Christ the Moral Exemplar: Kierkegaard's Poetic Ideal

Introduction

Soren Kierkegaard, the 19th century chief critic of the state church of Denmark, wrote one of his most renowned books, Practice in Christianity, under the pseudonym Anti-Climacus in 1848, just one year after he had thought to end his work as a writer (Hong, xi). Of Practice, Kierkegaard noted: “‘Without a doubt it is the most perfect and truest thing I have written’” (Kierkegaard qtd. in Hong, xviii). Though Kierkegaard focused on a number of themes in Practice, such as the paradox of Christ as the “God-man” and the twofold “offense” of the God-man--that God could be an individual human being and that an individual human being could be God--he primarily intended, as it will be argued, to typify a Christian ideal in line with the “pedagogical model” of the ancients and the early church (Rasmussen, 153). Kierkegaard further set out to reveal “that one becomes oneself through imitating Christ” by following the model of “moral exemplarity” (Campaijen, 341). In other words, Kierkegaard’s work with Practice reflects his desire to reveal how the individual can achieve authentic existence as a human being by pursuing Christlikeness in one’s individual circumstances. This desire came out in the form of a critique of the 19th century Danish church, an institution that had, in various ways, lost touch with its pedagogy and moral exemplar, Christ.

Background

Kierkegaard’s main objective for writing Practice in Christianity was to reintroduce true Christianity into Christendom, to essentially reveal to the church that it no longer followed the true Christ but had instead put in his place an idol (36). As Kierkegaard notes:

…we [in Christendom] really do not care to find out in a deeper sense what it is [Christ] does; even less do we try with the help of God and according to our humble capacities to imitate him in doing the right, the noble, the sublime, the true…We are content to extol and…are ‘too scrupulous,’ perhaps also are too cowardly and flabby really to want to understand.  Christendom has abolished Christianity without really knowing itself (36).

Kierkegaard criticized the church in Denmark for making the act of becoming a Christian too simple, “as simple as putting on one’s socks” as he put it, and that the church had further placed too much reliance upon the evidence of “eighteen hundred years” of Christendom, as though the church’s existence somehow verified the truth of Christ (35). In so doing, the church had glossed over the paradox of Christ as the “God-man” and thus had watered down Christ’s teaching, making Christ’s teaching “a matter of course,” provable by reference to historical fact (Kierkegaard, 35). To become a Christian, one no longer had to confront the true Christ as in the manner of Christ’s contemporaries. One no longer had to confront the paradox that the infinite God was somehow a finite, individual human being. Even more, the recognition of Christ’s identity as moral exemplar, as one to model one’s life after, had faded into little more than a fickle admiration for his deeds. Christendom had, in effect, become a form “paganism” (Kierkegaard, 35).

Kierkegaard's Poetic of Mimetic Piety

According to Joel Rasmussen in his article “Poetry, Piety, and Paideia in Kierkegaard’s ‘Practice in Christianity,’” Practice “exemplifies a poetics that effectively retrieves the primary pedagogical model of both classical antiquity and early Christianity” (153). With the use of “paideia,” a form of teaching meant to “in-form” and “con-form” pupils to the values found within “the shaping narratives of the culture,” Kierkegaard wished to reintroduce the Christian paideia into Christendom (Rasmussen, 155). To succeed, Kierkegaard needed to denote first the relational difference between poetry and history, between the possible and the actual (Rasmussen, 159). Poetry in this sense does not refer to mere prose but rather to an understanding of the ideal that was meant to be imitated or pursued. For Kierkegaard, the poetic ideal that the individual should imitate in her personal life was the life of Christ (Rasmussen, 159). As Kierkegaard prays:

Lord Jesus Christ, you did not come to the world to be served and thus not to be admired either, or in that sense worshiped. You yourself were the Way and the Life--and you have imitators. If we have dozed off into this infatuation, wake us up, rescue us from this error of wanting to admire or adoringly admire you instead of wanting to follow you and be like you (qtd. in Rasmussen, 159).

Kierkegaard ultimately considered one of the chief failures of the Danish church to be its substitution of “a piety of ‘admiration’” for a “piety of ‘imitation’” (Rasmussen, 159). The church had shifted toward an emphasis on cognitive comprehension, speculation, and observation as the elements of “truth,” whereas the original Christian tradition of truth as “being,” as in the being of Christ, had fallen to the wayside (Rasmussen, 160). The notion that Christ literally embodies truth radically differs from the modern conception of truth as something results-based and objectively knowable (Rasmussen, 160). Moreover, to recognize that truth can only be known through embodiment and, further, that Christ is the embodiment of truth, means that one cannot come to know the truth embodied in Christ until one comes to embody Christ in one’s individual life (161). Kierkegaard, recognizing this truth, wished to reintroduce this way of understanding the truth of Christ and the Christian walk into the Christendom of his day as a corrective measure against the tide of modern conceptions of truth.

This correction, however, cannot come without “‘a frightful discovery…that the truth is persecuted’” (Kierkegaard qtd. in Rasmussen, 172-173). The poetic ideal set forth in Practice should inculcate the one who hears of it with “a great deal of trepidation and anxiety,” because the paideia of Christianity entails that the pursuit of the virtuous ideal comes with “the painful dialectic between typical human aspirations and the life of suffering” (Rasmussen, 172). Christ, who was the embodiment of truth, suffered for being the truth, and Kierkegaard thinks this fact should fill the one who wishes to mimic Christ with dread, for as one imitates Christ’s love, one will invariably imitate Christ’s suffering. Christendom had abolished this element of Christianity and in its place established a state religion with the pious ideal of admiration for Christ’s love and suffering rather than imitation.

Becoming Oneself by Imitating Christ

Rob Compaijen takes up the topic of imitation found in Kierkegaard’s writing in his article “Authenticity and Imitation: On the Role of Moral Exemplarity in Anti-Climacus’ Ethics.” Compaijen, using both Sickness unto Death and Practice in Christianity, shows that Kierkegaard argued that a person becomes oneself by imitating Christ (341). Kierkegaard thought that human beings come to understand their existence through praxis and that excellent praxis makes one self-identify as an excellent human being (Compaijen, 348). Of course, human beings can often associate various practices with their identity, such as their professions or positions of power, but according to Kierkegaard, profession and position “are very low ideals” in comparison to higher ideals such as citizenship (Compaijen, 348).

Recognition of the ideal further corresponds to a human being’s existence as “a self-conscious relation between reality and ideality” (Compaijen, 349). A human being acts rightly when he recognizes the factuality of his existence, and from this factuality, pursues the ideal, or an imagined possibility (Compaijen, 349). As a relation between the factual and the ideal, a human being can never truly grasp or achieve the ideal, because, as Compaijen notes, “only that ideal that can be strived for but cannot be realized does justice to human nature” as a self-conscious relation between reality and ideality (349).

Since, as already discussed, a human being achieves authentic existence and identity through the pursuit of the ideal from the context of her facticity, it is important to discern what the ideal is. According to Compaijen, when we enter into a practice, we immediately become aware of those who are exemplars of said practice (350). Thus, when one sets out to pursue the Christian ideal, one immediately becomes aware that Christ is the exemplar “who has shown what it means to exist, as a human being, over and against God” (Compaijen, 350). According to Kierkegaard: “‘in Christ is it true that God is man’s goal and criterion, or the criterion and goal’” (qtd. in Compaijen).

Christ exemplifies the ideal, first, in that an individual can at best approximate the life of Christ but never factually can achieve Christ’s ideal, which relates to the premise that to maintain one’s authenticity as a human being, the relation between the factual and the ideal as separate must be maintained (Compaijen, 351). Secondly, when one practices Christianity, which is the pursuit of Christlikeness, one immediately recognizes Christ as the exemplar of Christian practice (Compaijen, 351). As the ideal, Christ therefore reveals how to excel at being human, and, moreover, how one can, through the process of striving to imitate Christ, become oneself as a human being in the most authentic way possible (Compaijen, 353). Thus, as concludes Kierkegaard, by imitating Christ the individual becomes herself (Compaijen, 353).

Since to become oneself, one must become like Christ--or, at the very least, one must strive to be like Christ, to approximate Christlikeness in one’s actions--, one must now consider why the imitation of another makes an individual who they are as an individual. As Compaijen asks: “Isn’t one, through imitating someone else, neglecting one’s facticity as this particular individual, that which Anti-Climacus [Kierkegaard] describes as human reality” (355)? It seems that imitation may somehow contradict a human being’s relation to his facticity in the face of his attempts to imitate the ideal set by another. However, pointing to the words of Judge William, Compaijen iterates that the ideal self is “the self ‘which the individual has outside himself as the image in whose likeness he is to form himself, and which on the other hand he has within himself, since it is he himself’” (qtd. in Compaijen, 355). In other words, there is a “‘not yet, but already’” element in the imitation of Christ that entails the pursuit of the ideal that is both outside of oneself and within oneself (Ferreira qtd. in Compaijen, 355-356). When one comes before an exemplar, one imagines what makes the exemplar the ideal human being, and, since the imagination further “relates the ideal to [one’s] own existence,” one inevitably recognizes: “I should be like the exemplary other” (Compaijen, 356). The result is that one does not contradict one’s facticity when setting out to imitate an exemplar. Rather, the imitator views her imitation as imperative in reference to the facticity of her own situation in relation to the ideal.

It should be noted that Kierkegaard did not intend that imitation should equate to the literal imitation of Christ’s actions, but rather to “existing in the way he existed” (Compaijen, 356). To want to literally mimic every act of Christ signifies that the individual wishing to do so does not want to be himself, which contradicts his identity as a relation between factuality and ideality (Compaijen, 356). To be authentic, one must not forsake one’s “concrete” and “particular” existence (Compaijen, 356). The goal of imitation, rather, is to “express Christ’s being human in [one’s] own existence” (Compaijen, 357).

Compaijen notes regarding Kierkegaard’s thought that “an authentic existence should…consist in an existence in which reality and ideality are fundamentally different but are, nevertheless, related in the strongest possible way” (360). In a sense, this conception of authentic existence leads to the conclusion, according to Compaijen, that the “God-man,” or what Kierkegaard also calls the “sign of contradiction,” represents the epitome of authentic being, since the God-man is both “the facticity of being” in his identity as an individual human and the ideal in his identity as God (360). Christ practiced in reality God’s ideality. In Christ’s factuality, he practiced in factual terms the “measureless neighbor-love” of God (Compaijen, 363). It is this immeasurable love that represents the ideal practice for a human being. Though this ideal can never truly be achieved, the possibility of pursuing this ideal, as exemplified in Christ, from one’s own factual circumstances, represents the sort of praxis that leads to becoming genuinely human in one’s existence.

The Failure to Preach Christian Paideia: Avoiding the "Stumbling Block"

The recognition of Christ as both poetic ideal and moral exemplar seems to have faded in Denmark at the time Kierkegaard wrote Practice in Christianity; hence, Kierkegaard’s strong desire to reintroduce real Christianity into Christendom. Where the church should have taught that Christ represents a poetic ideal to be imitated, parishioners heard a message of Christ’s historical facticity, as an object that could be measured in the “eighteen hundred years” of church history. People no longer had to encounter the paradox of Christ the “God-man,” the “sign of contradiction.” The church seemed to have forgotten that the path to faith in Christ must begin with the offensiveness to rationality, to objective, measurable, and provable knowledge, encapsulated by Christ, who is both God and an individual human being simultaneously. Though “from on high he will draw all to himself,” Christ draws all to his majesty through his abasement (Kierkegaard, 153). His abasement, which is a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Greeks, is the paradox that one must confront and, through faith, come to see that this paradox, which is that this abased individual human being is God, is the truth.

Through this recognition of the truth embodied in Christ, as thought Kierkegaard, the Christian must set out to further realize that the perfect love of God enacted by Christ as an individual human being, represents the paideia of Christianity. The God-man is the poetic ideal, exuding the virtues valued by God and his people, and as such the God-man represents the moral exemplar of the church. Christ is the one whom individual Christians should imitate within their own facticity as individual human beings. In so doing, Christians begin the process of becoming themselves, of becoming authentic human beings as they pursue the perfect practice of limitless neighbor-love from the facticity of their individual circumstances. It is this pedagogical, poetic, pious mimicry of Christ that Kierkegaard so desperately wanted to re-instill in Christendom; however, the question of whether he succeeded is another matter. If appeal to historical fact tells us anything, it is that the need for a return to the poetic ideal as the foundation of Christian truth remains a prescient need in modern Christianity.

Works Cited

Compaijen, Rob. “Authenticity and Imitation: On the Role of Moral Exemplarity in Anti Climacus’ Ethics.” Kierkegaard Studies Yearbook 48.1 (2011): 341-363. Print.

Hong, Howard V. and Edna H. Hong. Introduction. Practice in Christianity. By Soren Kierkegaard. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1991. xi-xix. Print.

Kierkegaard, Soren. Practice in Christianity. Trans. Howard V. Hong and Edna H. Hong. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1991. Print.

Rasmussen, Joel D.S. “Poetry, Piety, and Paideia in Kierkegaard’s ‘Practice in Christianity.’” Kierkegaard Studies Yearkbook 45.3 (2010): 153-173. Print.

The Keynesian Fallacy: Lessons from FDR's "New Deal" for Christians Wanting to Use the Government to Fix Society's Woes

What follows is a research paper I recently wrote for a class on 20th Century American history. I argue in this paper that government intervention in the free-market economy during the 1920s led to the market crash of 1929 and the Great Depression that thereafter ensued. I further argue that continued government intervention a la FDR's New Deal prolonged the Great Depression. Bear in mind that I am not arguing that all government intervention in the economy is bad. I rather argue that certain kinds of government policies--such as the maintenance of a spending deficit and the artificial inflation of bank credit--have particularly degenerative effects on the economy. My hope is that this article will help Christians learn from past mistakes in government policy so that they can better understand what sorts of policies to avoid advocating when in the midst of tough economic times.

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Introduction

The causes behind the Great Depression and its duration are numerous and complex. No one factor or person bears full responsibility; however, various factors and persons do bear partial responsibility. Inflationary credit policies in the 1920s partly led to the market crash of 1929 and moreover to the unusually severe depression that thereafter ensued.  Beginning in 1933, President Franklin D. Roosevelt initiated a number of government programs designed to alleviate and reverse the effects of the Great Depression, and though FDR’s goal was recovery, his New Deal programs ultimately failed to restore the economy and further perpetuated the depression. Not only did government intervention in the economy lead to the Great Depression, government intervention further lengthened the Depression by repeating the same mistakes that led to the Depression in the first place.

Background--Great Britain and Her Minions

To understand the context of the Great Depression, and also the nature of the New Deal, it is necessary to consider the developments in economic practice that preceded these events, and few accounts of the pre-Depression era compare to that offered by Murray N. Rothbard in his book A History of Money and Banking in the United States. According to Rothbard, the effect of World War I on the international economy was nothing short of disastrous, and at the close of the war, many of the world’s major powers set their sights on restoring the international economic order (439). Great Britain, in particular, hoped to regain its economic preeminence, though this task would prove difficult since WWI had left the British economy vulnerable due to its “wracking inflation” and its lack of resources (Rothbard, 439). WWI, moreover, had left the United States, who was a latecomer to the war, as the only country with a currency still based on a hard gold standard (Rothbard, 439). Having a gold-standard based currency simply entailed that currency obligations could be redeemed in gold. During WWI, European nations had gone off the gold standard due to the high rates of inflation each nation utilized to finance their war efforts (Rothbard, 439). If Britain were to have any hope of regaining its international economic supremacy, it could not return to a gold standard, since doing so would mean the deflation of the British pound by 30 percent of its original value (Rothbard, 440). Moreover, should Britain allow the deflation of the pound, the U.S. dollar, which was still based on a gold standard, would take the place of the pound as the “financial center” of the international economy (Rothbard, 440).

To ensure that it would regain economic supremacy, Britain established a new sort of international economy; one based on the “gold-exchange standard,” which would permit Great Britain and the rest of Europe to keep their currencies inflated, and inflating (Rothbard, 440). To do this, Britain established the U.S. dollar as the primary support for all other currencies, and it used the dollar, rather than gold, for its reserves, and it then forced other, smaller European countries to use the pound for their reserves, rather than gold (Rothbard, 440). In short, Britain established a veritable upside-down economic pyramid with the United States at its base. Britain’s plan might have worked, too, if the U.S. had not also “unduly” inflated the dollar during the 1920s (Rothbard, 441). Inflating currency tends to render it “shaky,” and according to Rothbard, “the inability of this system, with pseudo gold-standard countries pyramiding on top of an increasingly shaky dollar-gold base, was to become evident in the Great Depression” (440).

Crash and Depression--The Mechanisms of Economic Homeostasis

Though by all accounts the economy prior to 1929 was booming at an unprecedented level, this “boom” resulted from “wasteful misinvestment” and the unduly inflation and expansion of bank credit (Rothbard, 12). As a consequence, the market crashed in 1929, and depression thereafter ensued (Rothbard, 12). This descent into depression followed by a boom reflects what many refer to as the “boom-bust” cycle; though, according to Rothbard, economists often misunderstand the nature of this cycle. It is often thought that periods of economic growth and contraction result naturally from the ebb and flow of the free market, primarily as a result of “a sudden general cluster of business errors” (Rothbard, 8). To the contrary, as argues Rothbard in his book America’s Great Depression: “The ‘boom-bust’ cycle is generated by monetary intervention in the market, specifically bank credit expansion to business” (9). During the 1920s, this very sort of monetary intervention was utilized to artificially fuel the economic boom, and by 1929, this economic growth came crashing to halt. During the 1920s, business leaders had been misled by the undue inflation of credit to overinvest, and by 1929, it had become evident that this overinvestment in fact represented wasteful investment (Rothbard, 12). As inflation permeated into the consumer market, the ratio of consumption to investment readjusted to reflect pre-boom levels with the result that the market crashed in 1929 (Rothbard, 12).

The depression that followed, which proved notably severe in contrast to the unprecedented boom of the 1920s, was, according to Rothbard, nothing short of a “necessary and beneficial return” to a normal economy, devoid of “the distortions imposed by the boom” (12). In short, the depression was a necessary and natural self-corrective response of the free-market economy to reestablish balance. Had this fact been recognized by government officials and the general public, and had they left the depression to work itself out, the Great Depression might have proved “mercifully short.” Government intervention only tends to lengthen and deepen depressions, yet, between 1929-1933 government intervention characterized government policies (Rothbard, 4). Practices such as lending money to failing businesses, spurring greater amounts of inflation, maintaining higher wages, keeping prices elevated, promoting consumption rather than saving, and subsidizing unemployment constituted the government’s response to the depression, and as a result, the Great Depression was only prolonged (Rothbard, 19-21). Such practices are counterproductive, and even harmful, primarily because they interfere with and oppose the elements of natural recovery.

But Something Must Be Done...Right?--The Ethical Drive to "Experiment"

Not everyone, however, agrees that the government should have taken a non-interventionist stance during the Depression. Arguably, had the government failed to offer immediate relief, countless people would have lost their lives due to hunger or illness. Up to the 1930s, the U.S. government had never recognized a responsibility to care for the elderly, the unemployed, the ill, and generally all others who were most vulnerable in times of economic hardship (Biles, 96). As FDR took the office of President, nearly eighteen million Americans needed relief, and almost one-fourth to one-third of the U.S. population had no way of supporting themselves due to unemployment, inadequate wages, or disability (Biles, 97-98). Though waiting out the depression would have shortened it, failure to act in the short-term would have proved particularly destructive, to the extent that inaction, though beneficial in the long-term, would have been morally untenable for the short-term. While by all accounts, immediate government action may have been ethically justified, the fact remains that government intervention, handled in the way it was by FDR’s administration, had the side effect of lengthening the depression.

It would be wrong, however, to fault FDR for trying to do something to help the suffering masses. In many respects, the New Deal was uncharted territory, an “experiment” to see what would work. Amity Shlaes notes in her book The Forgotten Man that most everyone recognized from the time of his inauguration that FDR “would experiment with the economy” (148). However, his experiments hardly consisted of anything truly novel. According to Roger Biles in his book A New Deal for the American People: “for all of Roosevelt’s famed willingness to experiment, [never] did New Deal policies originate from vernal ideas” (226). The centralized economic planning of the New Deal reflected President Wilson’s War Industries Board from World War I, and the establishment of social insurance policies had already taken place in Britain and Germany prior to World War I and also in various states (Biles, 226). The only remotely original New Deal policy, Keynesian deficit spending, did not overtly take place until later in FDR’s presidency after various other reforms had been tried (Biles, 226). Nevertheless, original ideas or not, FDR had no way of knowing what policies would or would not work prior to their implementation.

Keynesian Economics--The Failed Experiment

The long-term ineffectiveness of the entirety of the New Deal aside, Keynesian Economics proved particularly destructive for the economy. In 1933, British economist John Maynard Keynes, after whom Keynesian Economics is named, wrote a letter to FDR wherein he advised the president that government policy must entail intervention in the free market (Keynes, n.p.). In particular, Keynes argued for government deficit spending, or government investment beyond the federal government’s ability to maintain a balanced budget because, according to Keynes, an equalized balance between supply and demand could not guarantee full employment without government intervention in the market (Lawlor, 4).

Keynes advocated for various government policies, though two in particular were enacted during the Depression: deficit spending and low interest rates (Hazlitt, 421-422). Deficit spending entailed using government spending deficits to artificially maintain higher wages (Hazlitt, 421). The maintenance of low interest, which required printing more money to spur inflation, would supposedly combat unemployment (Hazlitt, 422). As it turned out, both of these policies failed to spur recovery as Keynes supposed they would. According to Henry Hazlitt, who thoroughly critiqued Keynesianism with his book entitled The Failure of the “New Economics,” Keynes’s theory had a number of flaws. According to Hazlitt, Keynes had a naïve definition of “full employment.” Keynes apparently failed to qualify full employment as “the absence of abnormal involuntary unemployment,” which would better define the nature of “optimum employment” in a free market (Hazlitt, 435). Moreover, Keynes mistakenly assumed that full employment was an end in itself for the free market. Instead, according to Hazlitt, optimal employment levels were merely a means to the achievement of more wide-ranging goals, such as maximizing consumer satisfaction (Hazlitt, 435).

Regardless of Keynes’s flawed presuppositions, the policies that emerged from his theorizing during the Great Depression had disastrous effects. In terms of deficit spending, data from 1931 to 1940 reveal that as deficit spending increased, so did the number and percentage of unemployed Americans (Hazlitt, 421). Going by these numbers alone, it seems evident that Keynesian deficit spending only served to perpetuate and worsen the levels of abnormal involuntary unemployment. The maintenance of low interest had a similar effect. As data from 1929 to 1940 demonstrates, as interest rates increased, via deliberate inflation nonetheless, unemployment increased as well (Hazlitt, 423). In Hazlitt’s view, deficit spending would not do the trick, and neither would low interest rates; rather, the economy required a “proper” balance between wages and prices (426). The only sort of policy intervention that the government needed to concern itself with was the maintenance of “sound currency,” the enforcement of “laws against violence and intimidation,” and the elimination of “laws which confer exclusive legal privileges and immunities on union leaders, or abridge the freedom of employers and individual workers to bargain” (Hazlitt, 426). In other words, the government should have let the economy recover on its own, all the while ensuring that people’s rights and their freedom to bargain would be upheld. As notes Murray Rothbard:

If government wishes to see a depression ended as quickly as possible…[t]he first and clearest injunction is: don’t interfere with the market’s adjustment process. The more the government intervenes to delay the market’s adjustment, the longer and more grueling the depression will be, and the more difficult will be the road to complete recovery (19).

Yet, FDR and his administration did interfere, resulting in the near decade long extension of the Great Depression.

Regime Uncertainty--Fallout from the New Deal

Beyond the counterproductive effects of deficit spending and artificially maintained low interest rates, government intervention during the Great Depression also may have had a negative psychological effect on private investors, further delaying economic recovery. Robert Higgs, in his article entitled “Regime Uncertainty,” suggests that the political atmosphere created by New Deal policies undermined private investors’ faith in the future viability of private property rights in the U.S. (586). From a legal standpoint, private property rights serve to guarantee private individuals the right to exclude others from using their resources, goods, or services (Sowell, 244). Private property rights allow for the existence of a “profit-and-loss economy,” and they further incentivize economic investment by ensuring that individuals can keep their returns on investment (Sowell, 177 & 245). Investment is a risky enterprise, coming at the cost of interest, dividends, and having to wait for future returns, and if the promise of future returns does not outweigh the present cost of investment, potential investors are more apt to hold onto their money (Sowell, 177).

According to Higgs, during the Great Depression, private investors were unwilling to invest their money because their hopes for gaining returns on their investment had been smashed by various government programs that seemed to threaten private property rights (586). Higgs lists a litany of acts passed by Congress between 1933 and 1940 that instilled doubt in the minds of investors that a private property regime would survive intact (571). In fact, some investors feared “more drastic developments” might ensue, such as the development of a “collectivist dictatorship” (Higgs, 571). Of course FDR’s administration had no desire to institute a collectivist dictatorship, as evidenced by the fact that many New Deal policies relied on private investment. Nevertheless, much of the rhetoric surrounding the New Deal “precluded the private confidence to invest” (Badger qtd. in Higgs, 572).

Despite the psychological fear that ultimately resulted from New Deal policies, at the start of his presidency, FDR had hoped to avoid damaging the confidence to invest. However, by 1934, under pressure from various outspoken radicals, a note of hostility began to emerge in FDR’s stance towards private investors (Higgs, 572). By 1935, FDR was surrounded by younger New Dealers and people who doubted whether business could act in accordance with the nation’s interests. As a result, FDR, no longer paying attention to the interests of business groups, supported various laws that went counter to the desires of private business leaders (Higgs, 572). Other actions by FDR, such as his 1937 “court packing scheme” and his attempts in 1937 and 1938 to reorganize the executive branch further dampened the hopes of private investors. Many saw the court packing scheme as nothing short of “‘a naked bid for dictatorship’” (Anderson qtd. in Higgs, 572). Moreover, his attempt to reorganize the executive branch convinced several that FDR intended “‘to subvert democratic institutions’ by ‘importing European totalitarianism into the United States’” (Leuchtenburg qtd. in Higgs, 573).

Though many of these accusations and fears were founded upon exaggerations of half-truths, these fears were nevertheless present. Regardless of the facts, investors were made sufficiently uncertain about the future of private property rights by FDR’s rhetoric and policies that they chose to abstain from investing their money. It ultimately was not until after World War II, with FDR dead and the New Dealers falling out of influence that faith in private investment finally returned (Higgs, 586). Though the federal government’s power had no doubt expanded significantly by the mid-1940s, “the nightmare was over” for investors, who no longer thought the government had “the terrifying potential” to undermine private-property rights (Higgs, 586).

Conclusion

The words of Thomas Sowell in his book Basic Economics appropriately convey a potential lesson to be gleaned from the Great Depression:

The tragic bungling of economic policy…during the Great Depression of the 1930s has sobering implications for those who regard government as a force to save the economy from the imperfections of the marketplace. Markets are indeed imperfect, as everything human is imperfect. But “market failure” is not a magic phrase that automatically justifies government intervention, because the government can also fail—or even make things worse (263-264).

Many government policies prior to the market crash of 1929 only contributed to the problem by encouraging easily available credit and maintaining low interest, which spurred unwise speculation and wasteful investment (Biles, 10). These policies further prolonged the Depression by preventing the economy from ultimately succumbing to necessary homeostatic mechanisms such as deflation, lowered wages, higher interest rates, and waning investment. Though such things would have proved notably harsh in the short term, they would have ultimately functioned as necessary and beneficial events that would have allowed the free market to self-correct for the artificially induced boom of the 1920s. Though the government may have been justified in trying to alleviate the suffering caused by the depression, it utilized various counterproductive policies that only served to prolong what was already an unprecedentedly horrible depression.  Not only were these government policies themselves counterproductive, but the rhetoric surrounding them, along with FDR’s seeming disdain for the interests of private business, also undermined people’s certainty that a profit-and-loss economy and private-property rights would survive FDR’s administration. “Regime uncertainty” pervaded the minds of various investors, who as a result were reluctant to invest their money since they had little faith that they would receive any meaningful returns on their investment. The economy ultimately did not improve until after World War II, when New Deal policies no longer were in effect and the threat of a “collectivist dictatorship” no longer seemed possible. Though, of course, FDR had no intentions of instituting a dictatorship, certain of his actions gave sufficient cause to suspect the worst, and intentions can never replace outcomes when judging historical events.

Works Cited

Biles, Roger. A New Deal for the American People. DeKalb: Northern Illinois University Press, 1991. Print.

Hazlitt, Henry. The Failure of the “New Economics”: An Analysis of the Keynesian Fallacies. New York: D. Van Norstrand Company, Inc., 1959. Print.

Higgs, Robert. “Regime Uncertainty:  Why the Great Depression Lasted So Long and Why Prosperity Resumed after the War.” The Independent Review 1.4 (1997):  561-590. Print.

Keynes, John M. “An Open Letter to President Roosevelt.” New Deal Network. 16 December 1933. FDRL: PPF: 140: Frankfurter, Felix. Letter.

Lawlor, Michael S. The Economics of Keynes in Historical Context: An Intellectual History of the General Theory. New York: Palgrave MacMillan, 2006. Print.

Rothbard, Murray N. A History of Money and Banking in the United States: The Colonial Era to World War II. Auburn:  Ludwig von Mises Institute, 2005. Print.

--. America’s Great Depression. 5th ed. Auburn: Ludwig von Mises Institute, 2000. Print.

Shlaes, Amity. The Forgotten Man: A new History of the Great Depression. New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 2007. Print.

Smiley, Gene. “Great Depression.” The Concise Encyclopedia of Economics. 2008. Library of Economics and Liberty. 30 September 2014. Web.

Sowell, Thomas. Basic Economics: A Citizen’s Guide to the Economy. New York: Basic Books, 2000. Print.

Love Your Neighbor as Yourself?

It says in Luke 10:27, “You shall love the Lord you God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself” (NRSV). These words found in Luke’s Gospel, specifically the part pertaining to loving your neighbor as yourself, comprise what many refer to as “the golden rule.” We often take the spirit of the golden rule to mean that we should treat others as we would want to be treated. Though this way of interpreting this passage certainly makes sense, is this particular understanding truly what Luke’s author meant to convey? Does “love your neighbor as yourself” actually equate to “treat others as you would want to be treated?” 

Luke’s Gospel is not the only place in the Bible where we see the golden rule mentioned. Take Matthew 7:12 for example, where we read “So whatever you wish that others would do to you, do also to them, for this is the Law and the Prophets” (ESV). It should be plain to see that this passage from Matthew is hardly any different from the traditional rendering of the golden rule, and therefore, I think, this passage from Matthew gives us clear cause to uphold the reliability of the “do unto others as you would have them do to you” version of the golden rule. 

However, what Matthew’s Gospel says is not what Luke’s Gospel says. In Luke we read that we should love our neighbor as we love ourselves. Like in Matthew, the golden rule in Luke relates how our actions toward others reflect some aspect about how we treat ourselves, but Matthew’s Gospel leaves us with a more straightforward message. Most people desire to be treated well by others.  As the ancient Greek philosopher Aristotle would state, everyone wants for themselves that which is good. The person who might read Matthew 7:12, therefore, would have little to contemplate, save that she should treat others well, because she also wants to be treated well. 

However, Luke’s golden rule leaves its reader with a certain degree of ambiguity. The person who reads Luke 10:27, which states that we are to love our neighbor as ourselves, may have occasion to ask, “How can a person love his neighbor if he does not love himself?” “How does our self-perception affect our attitude toward our neighbor?” “If a person hates himself, does he inadvertently transpose this hate toward others?” “If a person is depressed and thus sees her existence as having little value, does she view others in a similar fashion?” “If I obsess about looking for faults in myself, do I then spend my time with family and friends looking for faults in them?” When we simply take “love your neighbor as yourself” to mean “treat others as you would want to be treated,” we often miss the opportunity to confront ourselves with some of these powerful and important questions.

If we are to take seriously the command found in Luke to love our neighbor as ourselves, then in our attempts to love others we need to seriously evaluate how we love, or perhaps fail to love ourselves. I can say from personal experience that the way I have treated myself often has impacted directly the way that I have treated the people around me. I constantly strive for perfection in myself, but when I fall short of my standards, which I often do, I can get angry with myself, I can get cynical. In like manner, I often demand perfection from others, and when others come up short, I feel compelled to respond with anger, and I start to view humanity in the most cynical and depressing of ways. The unfortunate problem, often times, is not that I fail to love others as I do myself, but that I love others as I love myself all too frequently.  

Is there a remedy? What if for some reason you cannot find a way to love yourself, would you then always be unable to truly love others? I have no prescriptions or proscriptions here. I only ask that you take a moment to think about the ways you love, and sometimes fail to love both yourself and others. I would argue that a strong correlation exists between the way we view and treat ourselves and the way we view and treat others. Luke’s rendering of the golden rule should give us cause to consider this correlation and the implications that it has for our lives shared together in Christian community.

Redefining "Freedom" in the Land of the Free

What is freedom? If we allow mainstream society to answer this question, we would likely receive a response to the following effect: Freedom is the freedom of choice. Many of us in the church might likewise respond that freedom represents the ability to choose between this or that thing. But does such a definition accurately or comprehensively convey the true meaning of freedom?

If we take a moment to consider, for example, the definition of freedom held by the authors of the Declaration of Independence, the above understanding of freedom's meaning seems notably capricious, fluttery, and superficially transient. Did our nation's forebears sacrifice their lives so we could behave as consumers of a commercialized market that offers the "freedom" to choose which cell phone provider to use, which car to buy, which home to live in, or what TV show to watch? Obviously no. Of course, the Founders knew nothing about the sorts of amenities and technologies we have today; but, to focus on this fact is to miss the point. The Founders did not sacrifice for the freedom to choose but for the freedom to pursue. The Founders rightly understood that freedom implies the ability to behave according to one's fundamental nature. The authors of our Constitution believed that the fundamental nature of humanity is to have life, liberty, and to pursue happiness.

Now, we should take pause to note that liberty is above implied to represent something that we ought to be free to have. Thus, freedom does not equate to liberty, or to libertas, which implies the ability to act as one wills or pleases. Rather, the Founders believed that the will to act as one so chooses represents a fundamental component of one's identity as a human being, whereas freedom, then, represents the freeing of one to behave according to one's fundamental nature to will.

The Founders likewise regarded life and the pursuit of happiness as fundamental to humanity’s nature. Life, that which humanity has long regarded as universally and divinely sacred, ought to have the freedom to persist, grow, and thrive, for all such qualities identify the elements of life. The pursuit of happiness, too, is fundamental to humanity. Though none can be guaranteed happiness, for one must find cause to be happy in one's own way, all ought to have the freedom to pursue happiness, because such is what drives life forward by serving as the goal of the will.

All that I have said hereto I have not said to imply that life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness truly comprise humanity’s fundamental nature. I only have desired to show that freedom, which is so valued in American society, has very little to do with what we today have called our "freedoms." What we call freedoms, we should call rights, for the term rights I think is more apt to convey our meaning, since by the use of this term we refer to limits on the group with regard to its potential to act upon the individual. When we say rights, we refer to the group's responsibility to the individual, thus, the term rights, which is implied when we say freedoms, does not fully and completely describe freedom because the term necessitates that the group is bound by the rights of the individual. In any event, my point is that freedom means and only ever does mean the freeing, or the unbinding of a person, creature, or object to act according to its fundamental nature.

With freedom properly defined, let us move on to consider humanity’s fundamental nature. Let us first begin by assuming that the Founders were incorrect to define humanity’s fundamental nature as they did. Though life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness seem all well and good, we must consider the Founders' frame of reference for identifying these three things as fundamental to humanity’s nature. We often assume a Biblical foundation supported the the Founders' reasoning, but we mistakenly ignore the powerful, and arguably more pronounced influence of the Enlightenment on their perception of the world, history, God, and humanity. An important element of Enlightenment ideals that we should consider is the belief that Reason is the fundamental metaphysic that upholds all reality.

One of the more shocking characteristics of this belief was that it entailed that God was subservient to Reason.  As it was, and still is today, commonly said, "God cannot contradict Reason." The fact that such a phrase is heretical does not seem overt at first glance because it is so easy to assume that God, more than anyone, would be the most rational of all beings. However, some commonly overlook the fact that by qualifying God as one who cannot contradict Reason, we offer cause to think that God is beholden to a fundamental truth that supersedes Him. Reason, not God, becomes the standard by which all human thoughts, actions, and values are measured. To discover truth, one need not appeal to Scripture, one need only appeal to Reason. Reason, not Revelation, informed the Founders' belief that life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness were fundamental to humanity’s nature.

This is not to say, however, that the Founders' reason was not colored by Scripture. Indeed, we may rightly argue that no one can engage in rational thought without reference to one's subjective circumstances, and the Founders' circumstances most certainly were filled with references to Scripture. Nevertheless, the Founders, under the influence of the humanistic tendencies of Enlightenment ideals, believed they had arrived at their understanding of humanity’s fundamental nature by the power of Reason, separate from the word of God.

What, then, is humanity’s fundamental nature? I can you that we will certainly fail to answer this question correctly if we make an appeal to reason alone. Our subjective circumstances will most certainly influence the outcome of our logic. Where then should we turn? Let us turn to God, who, as the creator of humanity, knows best what constitutes humanity’s fundamental nature.

From Scripture, God's written revelation to humanity, we know that God has created us with the following characteristic: We have been created in God's image. Though the meaning of this revelation has been hotly debated, we may broadly consider that humanity's fundamental nature is to reflect the image of God. To reflect the image of something, that which reflects must be fundamentally oriented toward that which is being reflected.  A mirror cannot reflect light if the mirror is turned away from the source light. Likewise, a human being cannot reflect the light of God if s/he is turned away from God. Thus, if humanity's fundamental nature is to be a reflection of God, humanity must always be oriented toward God.

Freedom for humanity, therefore, is to be freed from that which prevents humanity from reflecting God. Since to reflect God one must be oriented toward God, that which binds a human being is that which turns one away from God. Thus, if we desire freedom, we must avoid being enslaved by whatever may turn us away from God.

And what are the sources of our enslavement?  According to Scripture: Any manner of idolatry, wickedness, sexual immorality, hate, despair, conflict, impatience, malice, infidelity, lack of self-control, and anything else that contradicts the Fruit of the Spirit, love for God and neighbor, and God's command to be holy as He is holy. Such forms of slavery as these represent the only true forms of slavery, for no other slavery exists than that which turns one from God. Moreover, no other freedom exists than that of being loosed from those things that prevent humanity from being oriented toward God.

From Scripture we know that slavery to sin can only be broken by Christ. Thus, no other source of freedom exists than Christ. Nothing else, no law, no human provision can offer freedom. Even the Constitution fails to offer freedom, because the Constitution cannot free anyone from sin or fundamentally orient anyone toward God, and its provision of rights does not lead to much more than a preoccupation with capriciousness rather than freedom. I of course do not mean to state that rights do not or cannot serve as a means to achieving good ends. We must be careful, though, to ensure that the provision of rights does not serve to enslave us from acting according to our fundamental nature. Since rights relate to the responsibility of the group to respect the will of the individual, a preoccupation with rights runs the risk of enslaving human beings by orienting them toward their own wills, rather than the will of God.

So, let us who have received the word of God not mistakenly praise our ability to say whatever we want on Facebook, our ability to eat whatever we want, or our ability to read and digest whatever media we want as if such things are the fruits of freedom. We may regard such things as gifts, provided they do not enslave us, but we should never go so far as to call the ability to do such things the freedom to act according to our fundamental nature as human beings. The moment we confuse capricious choice with the freedom to reflect the image of God, we demonstrate how truly enslaved we are.

Responding to Ferguson: A New Perspective on a Contemporary Debate

When we consider the racial, ethnic, socioeconomic conflicts of our day (and throughout time) a number of questions arise for us. How can these conflicts be conquered? Which side should we join? Are any of the sides even right?

Someone very wise once told me that the proper role of an intellectual, when in the midst of factions, is that of neutral mediator. Rather than arguing for this or that side, the intellectual should make an effort to educate people on all sides of a conflict, making all parties aware of what truly hangs in the balance. The intellectual should also strive to offer a new way of perceiving and approaching the issue at hand. While two conflicting groups may have an unwillingness to consider their opponent's perspective, both sides may willingly consider a third perspective, provided this third perspective is presented in a non-combative way. It is my intent to apply this method to the issue of racism currently gripping places such as Ferguson, MO.

We may broadly say that two factions exist in the Ferguson conflict: 1) those who argue that America's justice system is inherently racist in that it profiles against minorities; 2) those who argue that the justice system works perfectly fine.

Despite what many think, this conflict has nothing to do with the shooting of Michael Brown, nor the court case that followed wherein officer Wilson, Brown's shooter, was acquitted of murder charges. The events that transpired in Ferguson, tragic though they were, escalated as they did, much in part, as a result of the high level of media coverage. What would have otherwise gone unnoticed turned into a sideshow with a national audience. This is not to say, however, that the anger and hostility witnessed in Ferguson has no founded legitimacy. To the contrary, this uproar is the result of a more pressing issue.

Regardless of this issue's legitimacy, the claim that racism is the causal foundation of the riots and looting in Ferguson invariably serves as a distraction. How? It does so by proffering racism as the root of the problem, as the disease that under-girds our "broken" justice system. As a result, many have been distracted from recognizing that at the root of racism lies a more pronounced and fundamental ailment. And if we ignore the true disease, then we ultimately ignore the true cure.  Moreover, if we focus on the wrong disease, we inevitably will apply the wrong cure.

At the moment, the media, and many other talking heads, have diagnosed the nation as suffering from a broken, racially discriminatory justice system. The cure they prescribe is sweeping reforms, and protests in the meantime to raise awareness and bend public opinion to the demands of those seeking reform.

Without denying the need for reform, I would suggest that the diagnosis presented above is mistaken, in that what has been called a disease is in reality only one symptom of a deeper and more destructive disease. At the moment, it's as if the media and other outspoken voices have diagnosed a headache and prescribed aspirin when the source of the headache is in fact a brain tumor. The aspirin will only suffice to alleviate pain for a short while, but it will fail to end the headaches from recurring. In the same way, reforms will only make things aright for a short while, but they will fail to bring true healing or prevent the recurrence of racial mistrust.

If we ignore the true disease, then we will ignore the true cure. But, if we recognize the true disease, we will recognize the true cure. And if we recognize the true cure, we can apply it. So what is the true disease? The true disease is sin. More specifically, it is slavery to sin, which prevents us from freely behaving as God intended. Sin prevents us from being reflections of God's image. Sin prevents us from being holy as God is holy. Sin prevents us from loving God with all our heart, mind, soul, and strength. Sin prevents us from loving our neighbors as we should.

Sin not only results in racial profiling, it results in looting and violent riots. Sin creates division by ripping people apart based on race, money, accent, and political affiliation. Sin turns neighbors into illegal and legal residents, blacks and whites, Republicans and Democrats, Catholics and Baptists.

And what is the cure for sin? It is Christ crucified and resurrected. In Christ, humanity is freed from that which impedes humanity from acting as God intended. Through Christ, we can be free to reflect the image of God, to be holy as God is holy, to love God with our whole being, and to love our neighbors as we ought. Any other cure will not do.

The problem at hand is not a broken justice system. The problem is that people, no matter their color or station in life, fail to recognize that "all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God." Until people recognize the real problem, the effects of sin will continue to pervade the world. Another Ferguson will arise, more violent riots will follow, and all parties involved will only harden their hearts. No side is innocent. No matter who is the "victim," no matter who is the "transgressor," all are slaves to sin who fail to hear the truth.

And so let us, who know the truth, proclaim it!

The Other Side of the Pacifism Debate

By Miles Williams

In my last post, I played pacifist; not because I'm absolutely certain that I hold such a position, but rather to give voice to the position. Not to be biased, and to further give equal voice to an alternative position, the essay which follows is a critique, more or less, of John Howard Yoder's brand of pacifism. Once again, I don't hold a sure position on this issue, so take the sincerity of this post for whatever you think it's worth.

Two Points of Contention

Though I find many aspects of Yoder’s arguments for pacifism compelling, I cannot yet totally commit to the notion that pacifistic approaches to violence are always required by God.  I specifically would like to push back on two components of Yoder’s case which I think are the greatest shortcomings or weakness with his argument:  (1) Yoder’s pacifism makes sense in the case of self-sacrifice vs self-defense, but not in the case of sacrifice of another vs defense of another; (2) in contrast to what Yoder posits, the fact that “just war” [war done for the sake of justice; not for the sake of interplay between the egoistic desires of states] seems an unlikely occurrence is not solid grounds for casting aside the entire concept.

Regarding 1, my primary qualm with Yoder is more or less a personal misgiving I have for neglecting the use of violence when its use might serve to defend an innocent victim.  Perhaps my concern is a consequence of having watched too many superhero movies, but I feel this concern is the most common objection among many who hesitate to adopt pacifism wholesale.  For instance, what would be the best course of action if a serial rapist/murderer were to break into my home and attempt to assault my wife?  Should I just sit idle, justifying my inaction upon the premise that my wife has been given occasion to “accept innocent suffering without complaint” as Christ did on the cross (Yoder, 124)?  I must say “no”!  Yoder quotes 1 Peter 3:14-18, which states:  “It is better to suffer in well-doing…than for doing wrong.  For Christ also died for our sins…He, the just, suffered for the unjust” (124).  I cannot conceive, though, of what good my wife’s suffering would do in the above scenario.  If anything, I am most inclined to say that I would be the one doing wrong for not acting to defend my wife against the injustice about to be done to her.  I believe the nature of Christ’s suffering was of the sort that served to benefit others; and though we could say that her suffering would benefit the rapist/murderer, the beneficence would not be of a worthy or just nature.  Under such circumstances, even if I would have to kill the man attempting to assault my wife, I would consider inaction the greater sin.

Regarding 2—a point which I think we might appropriately conceive as an extension of point 1—Yoder states the following:  “The doctrine of ‘just war’ is an effort to extend into the realm of war the logic of the limited violence of police authority—but not a very successful one.  There is some logic to the ‘just war’ pattern of thought but very little realism” (204).  Contextually speaking, Yoder is writing in reference to Romans 13:1-7, a passage whereby many Christians have justified their participating in military action and police action for the benefit of the state.  While Yoder believes that this Romans passage may be suggesting that limited police action might be a role to which a Christian could be subject, he believes war does not apply.  However, if, as Yoder himself indicates, “just war” is nothing more than an international form of police action, what is there to distinguish it from police action within national borders?  Moreover, what is there to distinguish “just war” from the sort of defense to which I allude in point 1?  If I am correct that violent defense may be justified under certain interpersonal circumstances, then it may also be the case that such action can be taken in international circumstances as well.  Moreover, though there is a fair amount of reasonableness to Yoder’s assertion that the occurrence of a “just war” is implausible, implausibility is not sufficient grounds for dismissing the entire concept.

Paul says in Romans 12: 18, “If it is possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all” (NRSV).  This passage is surrounded by admonishments from Paul to the Christians living in Rome to live peaceably and lovingly with one another.  Paul also tells them to bless their persecutors, to not overcome evil with evil, and to let God be the arbiter of vengeance.  Verse 18 stands as the only potential exception to the entirety of Paul’s message; one not mentioned by Yoder and one which, I think, gives leeway to for considering that indiscriminate pacifism may not always be warranted.

Source

• Yoder, John Howard. The Politics of Jesus. 2nd Ed. Grand Rapids: Williams B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1994. Print.

Reconciling Pacifism with Old Testament Violence

By Miles Williams

What you see below does not necessarily represent my position on pacifism. I simply don't have a strong position on the issue, because, well, I'm not certain whether or not I agree with all its tenants. I'm more so posting this article to (1) start stirring the pot a bit and (2) to give voice to a position which I think, regardless of my beliefs about it, needs to be wrestled with and thought about by the Christian community. I wrote this essay for one of my classes, where I had to pretend I was responding to a letter from a friend who questioned how I could possibly maintain a pacifist position given the violence found in the Old Testament. Even though this essay may make me sound like a pacifist, I'm only pretending to be one for the sake of doing the assignment (once again, I don't know whether or not I agree with pacifism or not).

Dear friend, 

Your question regarding how I could possibly maintain a pacifist position, given the violence in the Old Testament, is understandable.  I hope the following argument will adequately demonstrate the veracity of my position, or at the very least, I hope that the following will clarify the matter for you. 

Many people mistakenly approach the Old Testament as if it held some pertinent answer to the question of “whether the taking of human life is morally permissible or forbidden under all circumstances?”  An ancient Israelite would never have conceived of such a modern question.  As John Howard Yoder indicates in his book The Politics of Jesus, “rather than reading with the modern question in mind, whether it confirms certain moral generalizations or not, the Israelite read it [the Torah] as his or her own story, as the account of his or her own past throwing light on who he or she was” (76).  As modern people, therefore, we ought to not neglect the intended meaning of the Old Testament—that it is narrative.  Though, of course, I do not mean to say that the Old Testament stories fail to convey moral truths.  However, if we want to gain a clearer understanding of what the violent stories in the Old Testament should tell us about morality, and about the nature of God, we need to first consider what the Israelite saw as significant about these stories.

            

According to Yoder, “one of the traits of the Old Testament story, sometimes linked with bloody battles but also sometimes notably free of violence, is the identification of YHWH as the God who saves his people without their needing to act” (76).  The Exodus story, for example, serves as a harrowing tale of God saving his people from captivity, without any need on their part to act.  The Israelites’ only call from YHWH was to believe and obey, while God did the work of defeating the Egyptians. 

            

Further on in Exodus, in chapter 17, we see the Israelites in battle with the Amalekites.  To the Israelite reader, the story is portrayed in such a way as to demonstrate the power of God; not the glorification of violence.  Moses, out of his own frustration with the Israelite people, endeavors to attack the Amalekites.  Yoder indicates, “this time Moses and Joshua respond in their own way to the Amalekites’ attack; they fight their own battle.  Yet the battle goes against them when Moses’ tiring arms lower the symbolic ‘rod of God,’ and they prevail only as the rod is again held aloft” (77; emphasis mine).  God, thus, gets the credit for victory; not the military prowess of Israel.

           

Sometimes, too, we see war portrayed as a negative consequence of Israel, or of its kings, failing to trust in YHWH.  In 2 Chronicles 16, we see King Asa chastised by a prophet for allying with the king of Syria rather than relying on God.  Asa is told by the prophet, “from now on you will have wars” (Yoder, 80).  War, then, can be a potential negative consequence of failing to trust YHWH.

            

While we as modern readers may look at the above stories and say “see, God does condone violence,” such is not what an Israelite would say.  The Israelite, instead, would look at the above stories and say “see, God saves his people when they believe in him and are obedient to his commands.”  These stories are not intended to offer us normative ethics regarding violence.  They rather convey the truth that God saves his people when they believe in him and obey him.  We moreover see, post Babylonian Exile, the emergence of a belief in YHWH as the miraculous preserver of the Israelite people—both in stories wherein military activity is used, and wherein no weapons are required.  “YHWH is an alternative to the self-determining use of Israel’s own military resources in defense of their existence as God’s people” (Yoder, 83).  Pacifism, therefore, is a position whereby I am simply saying that I will trust and obey God, and let him fight my battles for me.  Such was the perspective held by the Israelites who were always outnumbered and outmatched by superior enemies.  If you are still intent on the use of violence, however, there is good Biblical precedent for taking a sling and a stone to a machinegun fight.

Source:

• Yoder, John Howard.  The Politics of Jesus.  2^nd Ed.  Grand Rapids:  William B Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1994.

War - An Instrument of Politics

By Arthur Kerle--

Today I will be discussing the role of politics in war.  Or as I aim to show, the role of war in politics.  The notion of war as a subordinate to politics is one that, since Vietnam, our nation has been irked by.  Civilians, when playing armchair quarterback about America’s military actions, often lament about the level of oversight provided by ignorant politicians.  If they would just leave the business of war to the warrior!  Must they meddle in everything?

This was my opinion until relatively recently.  With the battles raging in Iraq and Afghanistan and family friends deployed overseas, I heard stories about how politicians were hamstringing the army and making it hard for them to do their job:  kill the enemy.  These stories backed up opinions I had already formed about politicians involving themselves in war.  The struggles of Washington regarding his political generals during the Revolution and the disastrous effects of the same during the Civil War were influencing factors in my view.  The term “political general” brought negative connotations rushing to the forefront of my mind whenever my eyes or ears encountered it.  My view of political oversight into war remained as thus until listening to a lecture on the topic:  Masters of War:  History’s Greatest Strategic Thinkers.  This lecture can be found at www.audble.com and is put on by The Great Courses series.  

First, a disclaimer.  As this blog aims to help Christians digest the complexity of today’s world and make well-educated decisions, in writing this, I am not condoning war as good.  I do, however, believe that war is not completely incompatible with Christianity – that is not to say by any means that I believe violence should be sought.  It is, nonetheless, important to have a basic understanding of politics because of the amount of influence it has over the happenings of both our country and the world.  War (or strategy) falls under the dominion of politics and the basic principles that I will discuss are applicable in many fields other than that of the battlefield.

Strategy is derived from the Greek word strategos.  Strategos, interestingly enough, means “elected general” and “politician.”  For the Greeks, a good strategist was, by the very definition, both a politician and a general.  A general, in the Greek sense of the word, had to consider not only military objectives but political objectives.  This is an important concept and as such, I would like to proffer a definition that is likely to be foreign to you: strategy is the process by which political purpose is translated into military action.  This definition of strategy is all important for our discussion.  By it, strategy is not an equal of politics but a tool of politics.  War is one means by which political goals are achieved.  Good strategy, therefore, effectively translates political goals into military action. 

Now that we have that out of the way, it is necessary to examine the purpose, thought process and goals of both a political leader and a general.  To illustrate, imagine the following situation:  Two football teams are entering the homestretch of a game.  The score is thirty-four to twenty-eight with the trailing team in possession and driving.  They have a first and ten with just over a minute and half on the clock at their opponents forty-five.  The quarterback wants to score and score quickly!  He wants the lead!  To do so he begins to use the no huddle offense.  His head coach, however, stops him.  The coach has considered the implications of a quick score:  giving the ball back to a very dangerous offense with plenty of time move the football.  If that happens, they lose.  They need to take more time off the clock before they score.

That difference in thinking in the analogy perfectly represents the differences in thought between a general and a politician.  The quarterback, representing the general, wants to do his job, he wants to score points!  The politician, or the coach in the analogy, is thinking in broader terms.  There are many other issues to consider than just scoring points or wining battles.  After all, history is littered with examples of generals who have won battle after battle but lost the war.

Before wrapping up, a quick example of just such a case in our nation’s history where a general won a battle but lost the war.  In Korean War, General Douglass MacArthur, hero of the Pacific in World War II, defeated the Soviet backed North and pushed them out of the South.  Had he stopped there, it would have been both a military and political victory.  But he did not stop there.  MacArthur drove his forces into the North, drawing too near to the Chinese border and prompting them to pour in their own troops, resulting in an ugly stalemate that settled little.  MacArthur exceeded the impetus of the attack in crossing the 38^th Parallel and scared the Chinese into action (fearing an invasion of China by MacArthur).  He had won, accomplished the main political objectives of the United States and their allies but because of a lack of political oversight, that victory morphed into a stalemate at the very best. 

Politics dominate the world, everything else is reliant on politics to a certain degree.  Warfare and its conduct is no different.  Not only should war be overseen by politicians but very closely monitored.  Without close oversight, war can quickly get out of hand and exceed the bounds of the political objectives that the military set out to accomplish.  Sound strategy should be conceived with political goals in mind and carried out by the generals under the watchful eye of the politicians.    

• Wilson, Andrew R. Masters of War:  History’s Greatest Strategic Thinkers. The Great Courses. Audio.     

A Global Economy with Local Labor: A Problem for Christians to Consider

It’s a rather common misconception these days that “globalization” entails the dissolving of borders and the institution of a “new world order.”  Nevertheless, the events of this past half century certainly do exude signs of a coming globalized world order.  But, in what way will globalization ultimately take shape?  I’ll make the argument below that globalization is, more or less, of an economic nature—not nationalistic.  In other words, well-defined national borders are not going anywhere[1]; however, the movement of currency will likely continue to flow unimpeded.  

Globalization is Economic—Not Nationalistic

“The accelerated worldwide economic and cultural universalization that has marked the move to post-Fordist types of production since the early 1970s is said to be trampling the borders of the nation-sate and making sovereignty increasingly irrelevant.  In some ways this is true, but it is important to see that the nation-state has been one of the primary promoters of this process.  Globalization is, in part, the hyperextension of the triumph of the universal over the local, on which the nation-state is founded” (Cavanaugh, 39; emphasis added).

                In many respects, William T. Cavanaugh (whom I quote above) has the nature of globalization, and the nature of how many of us today perceive globalization, nailed down.  We, today, see the current state of the global economy, with its freedom from the impediment of nationalized divisions, and we assume that this trend is indicative of the collapse of well-defined borders.  This assumption is wrong, however—at least in part.  The economy is indeed globalizing, and the nation-state can do little to stop this process.  However, far from this scenario being a problem for the nation-state, the opposite is true.  In fact, the nation-state often supports the freedom of cash flow, and it willingly sacrifices portions of its sovereignty for the sake international globalization (Cavanaugh, 40). 

                What we see going on today is nothing more than the continuation and inevitable result of the co-development of capitalism with nationalism.  Both the nation-state and the capitalist economy have co-existed, and mutually benefited from their conjoined support for each other, ever since their simultaneous emergence in the 16^th-17^th centuries.  It is in the spirit of this mutualism that the nation-state now supports the globalized economy, and vice versa.  But how is this so?

“Capital is now more mobile than ever, and nation-states have very little power to contain the flow of money and information across their borders.  Corporations have become increasingly transnational, discarding loyalties to any particular locations or communities and moving to wherever cheap labor and unrestrictive environmental laws can be found” (Cavanaugh, 40.)

Don't worry.  I'm no conspiracy theorist.

It seems as though corporations and economic elites are the true benefactors of globalization.  Nevertheless, the nation-state yet remains in full support of globalizing efforts.  Why?  The reason is simple:  “Capital is free to move where it wants, but labor is not” (Cavanaugh, 40; emphasis added).   Corporations fully support the nation-state and its borders because these borders, though they do not restrict the flow of money, restrict the flow of workers.  “[N]ational legal systems remain as the major, or crucial, instantiation through which guarantees of contract and property rights are enforced” (Saskia Sassen qtd. in Cavanaugh, 41).  To this end, the nation-state, with its labor laws, citizens’ rights, etc., makes the global economy more profitable for corporations.  Think about it this way:  Why would a major corporation shut down its factories in the US and set up shop in Mexico or in China?  The answer is fairly straightforward.  Labor laws in the US are far less conducive to maximum profits than the labor laws elsewhere.  Therefore, in order to make more money, transnational corporations seek out and exploit sources of labor where worker's rights are few and far between.  

The continued existence of the nation-state makes the globalization of the economy more profitable.  Because money is unimpeded by borders, yet labor and labor rights remain constrained by borders, transnational corporations can easily take advantage of workers who live in countries where few, if any, civil and human rights exist.  Herein, therefore, lies the real danger of globalization:  not that some new tyrannical globalized international political power is arising, but that a self-interested and non-ethically restrained globalized international economy is arising, and has already arisen.  In continuation with the past trend of nationalism and capitalism being co-supportive, in the wake of this globalized capitalist economy, the nation-state, by its very nature, has done, does, and will do little to stop the free flow of money[2]—not that the political apparatus could do much to control the globalization of the economy anyway; especially at the present time, since nation-states have already given up so much of their sovereignty to international corporate interests.

What This Means for Us Christians

                All of this information could understandably seem completely trivial and academic to some readers, but I would argue that this information has very real and tangible implications for Christians.  First and foremost, I think, in light of globalization being economic, and not so much political, we ought to spend more time paying attention to the economic interests of transnational corporations than we do to the nationalist interests of states[3].  As things currently stand, many of these transnational corporations are the biggest drivers of slave labor and unjust labor practices.  Many might argue that the globalization of the economy, since it is not mirrored in its globalization by nationalistic political powers, serves as the leading cause of oppression in the world today.  If such is truly the case, Cavanaugh warns us that "looking to the nation-state to defend the common good against the often-brutal consequences of globalization does not appear promising” (41).  The nation-state is simply too self-interested[4].  The church catholic, I think, is the one institution that has the greatest ability to fight the oppressive forces of this non-restricted globalized economy[5].  The church itself is a transnational body, and, thus, that which is most capable of reaching out to and saving those taken advantage of by globalization.  Such is the case primarily because the church is, unlike the nation-state, not self-interested, but self-giving[6].

Practical Implications

                While I did not expect to go this route with my argument, perhaps what I’m about to propose is not that far off from a practical example of how we as American Christians might, at least in a rather small and superficial way, fight the globalized economy’s abuse of foreign labor.  I propose that we could consider only buying products or goods which have been fairly traded[7].  What I’m merely suggesting is that we start paying attention to what we buy, who we buy from, and whether injustice was in any way, shape, or form a part of the process by which product “X” got from point A to point B.  As Christians, it is our calling to look beyond our national interests toward the transnational mission for which God has set us apart.  Isn’t it ironic that we expend so much energy worrying about minor quibbles between Republicans and Democrats that we neglect to worry about the impact Nike has on child laborers in China?  If indeed what I suggest about the nature of globalization is true, then Nike, and other such corporate entities, are the real world powers with which we ought to demonstrate our greatest concern.

Source:

• Cavanaugh, William T.  Migrations of the Holy:  God, State, and the Political Meaning of the Church.  Grand Rapids:  William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2011.  Print.

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[1] Though the nation-state will likely remain in place for quite some time to come, it may be that with the passage of time, and with the increasing influence of globalization on the market economy and our day-to-day lives, that a reshaping of the international political sphere may yet occur sometime in the future.

[2] Please be aware that I’m not trying to assert that a free-market economy is somehow intrinsically bad.  I think capitalism has great potential to do good in this world, but only if it can be restrained and guided by Christian ethics.

[3] We should, of course, not ignore nationalist interests.  Nation-states still play a very prominent role in international goings-on.  Take, for instance, the current state of affairs, as of this writing, between Russia and Ukraine.  This situation obviously has serious implications that highlight the prominence of nation-states in world events.

[4] It’s commonly asserted that the state exists to serve and protect the interests of the individual, a la John Locke and Thomas Hobbes.  Unlike the Lockian and Hobbesian models for whence the state derives its authority—that  being from the consent of the governed vis-à-vis a “social contract”—the reality is more complex and nuanced.  It’s safe to say, however, that the state derived its authority, both by force and by competition, prior to the a posteriori philosophical construct of the social compact between governments and governed as imagined by Hobbes and Locke.

[5] I don’t mean to refer here to Roman Catholicism, but to the universal church in general, sans denominational divisions.

[6] I would highly recommend reading Suffering by Arthur C. McGill, if you would like to learn more about what self-giving may actually entail for the Christian.

[7] Obviously we should do more than only buy fairly traded goods.  I’m only offering this as one, rather small example of what we can do.