The Death of Americanity

To bastardize a bastard, I quote what Bill Maher should have said at the end of his religulous documentary, "Religulous": "If humanity is to survive, Americanity must be wiped off the face of the earth." Maher started out the film by saying, "Everyone's so certain about everything, about what they believe, I want to be a prophet of Doubt." He became more of a prophet of mockery, albeit often a funny one, and ended with the greatest form of Enlightenment arrogance, asserting that religion must die if we are to survive. In this way, he joins the ranks of stupidity, bigotry, short-sightedness, elitism, etc. of the the pop-atheist movement led by the four horsemen of the apocalypse, which includes Ditchkins and company (cf. Stanley Fish's wonderful recent NYtimes review of Terry Eagleton's new book for the term "Ditchkins," Reason, Faith and Revolution; see also a new book The Delusion of Disbelief: Why the new atheism is a threat to your life, liberty and pursuit of happiness). Maher in fact became the Prophet of Certainty, a more recent kind of fundamentalism, what I have been calling "fundi atheism"; that is, he ended with asserting as much certainty in his position as every type of fundamentalist that he and the other bigots fear. He was...well...a fraction right: 1) for pointing out the silliness of so much of Christianity's trite beliefs and self-defeating ignorance; 2) that something must die. 

I've been talking now for a few years about "Americanity." In a brief definition, it is what American Evangelicalism in particular, and American Christianity in general (liberal or conservative), has been for a long time: a mix of American nationalism--and all that it implies (consumerism, materialism, isolationism, arrogance and apathy, zenophobia, historical and cultural ignorance, missionization by Americanization, simple, propositional faith claims with no new way of being, etc)--mixed with anywhere from a semblance of the Christian message to a fetishization of some of its most obscure and useless dimensions, usually by way of cultural and traditional and national accretions onto the original, beautiful subject of sin, salvation, the Kingdom and redemption, which usually means an anorexic theology of each. In something of a manifesto I've been working on very slowly, I begin:

The Sufi poet and mystic, Rumi, says that “A piece of rubbish jumps into the mouth of a living man, and only when he ejects it is he at ease.”  American Evangelicalism, along with Christian liberalism of the mainline denominations, has filled its mouth full of sand and alien particles, and now passes the same substance out in soup lines and to all the nations of the world.  It walks around like the frog that filled its mouth so full of f-lies that it can no longer eat and will soon die.  The last ones to realize the stench of this self-immolation have been the ones undergoing it.  The question is, has this rubbish jumped into the mouth of “a living man.”  

Of course, there are many redeemable characteristics of modern Evangelicalism--and I plan to try to find them. But I would wager that our ideologically obsessive state leaves us so much wanting in robust faith and practice, that overall, we have done an outrageous disservice to ourselves and the world. The new Christian dissidents, detractors, and the growth of the pop-atheists are a testament to this terrible deficiency. The Christian faith in the West, for the most part, has lost most or all of its revolutionary character and has acquiesced to the status quo of dominant culture in the US, being sterilized by a minima moralia and the flat surface of pop-culture and consumerism (see for example, a Times article from October of last year that begins with the question: "Has the so-called Prosperity gospel turned its followers into some of the most willing participants--and hence, victims--of the current financial crisis?").

Americanity is obsessed with "right belief," but to the extent that it is proper belief at all, it is accompanied primarily by mental assent, a social club that you get into the door with, "Yes, I am a Christian." I miss the good old Catholic days when it was actually difficult to become a Christian: you got an education in dogmatic theological matters, you were admonished to live rightly, to love, to give. In Americanity, it is the easiest thing to be a Christian, all the while holding out the false hope that you're a persecuted minority, a martyr even, whose rights and values are being taken away and fought against at every turn. This is why Americanity is ineffectual and down-right NOT CHRISTIAN. In good Kierkegaardian hyperbole, it would seem that, for the most part, only Americanity lives in America, not Christianity. It lives, in Father Calvin's words, "as with closed eyes," (I would like to write a treatise redeeming Calvin from the "New Calvinists" along with their American machismo, or pray someone else does) blind to the world unless it can "save" it, thus humans become objects, stars in crowns, rewards for our labors. Americanity is obsessed with "moral" issues, but what it doesn't realize is the contingency of these moralities, as Nietzsche would say, the decadence of these moralities, moralities of ressentiment, weak values that destroy life instead of live in the freedom established by Christ and explicated by the Apostle Paul. These moralities ostracize the ones who do not fit, make everyone hate us, and make a mockery of sexual ethics...Don't get me wrong, I'm certainly not averse to being hated for being a Christian, but for the right reasons: our love should be so offensive to the world that it is a mirror of its own grotesque hypocrisy and apathy. One of the section of the manifesto against Americanity is called, "The Bible as a Pack of Lies." This is not because the Bible is a pack of lies, but that it has been turned into one due to proof-texting, misreading, literalisms, etc. It should be clear, the type of literalism we see today has only existed for a few hundred years; historically, it is an aberration; from the early Church to the middle ages to the founding of the country, people had a much more literary robustness and ability to understand metaphor and metonymy. Also, to the extent that Americanity is married to conservative politics as it stands today, it is in serious jeopardy of losing all remainder of Christian semblance, for the typical conservative discourse is one of hatred, individualism, national arrogance, coldness to the underprivileged and virtually blind to the evil conditions of late capitalism. Thankfully, things are changing, and the typical 4-issue voter is passing away. However, a fundi liberal shift would not make much better of a human. In Boston I've seen enough to know that leftists can be as hateful and selfish and dogmatic as any conservative, often only giving lip-service to the values of charity, selflessness, compassion. The benefit they often have, however, is that at least their ideology more closely aligns with the Gospel, whether they are Christian or not. And I have found that many of the people I am acquainted with at the divinity school and elsewhere do indeed live out their beliefs. 

To some, however, this may seem like an outdated model of Americanity, of days gone by or, at least, relegated to the heartland (being from Oklahoma, one might understand why I don't necessarily see it this way, nor when one reviews exit polls on election day). For the Ameristians who have supposedly evolved out of the dark ages, we see a whole new set of dilemmas, some of them already mentioned in my last blog post. The mega-church has its host of problems, one being the failure to see its capitulation to the sound-bite mentality of American information dissemination and the shallowness of entertainment. This is no small problem, nor is it the complaint of an old crotchety man. These are not new criticismss by any means, but to the extent that they recapitulate passive, good capitalists who "seek" to be "better people" or more successful or more at peace, what Dallas Willard calls "sin management," they cannot stand precisely in the gap of the radical challenge of the Christian message, which defies all such characterizations.

All of this is perhaps why Americanity must die, and probably why it is, as Michael Spencer recently pointed out in his article, "The Coming Evangelical Collapse." I don't agree completely with his analysis or share his despair at seeing "orthodox" Christian belief fade, but his basic argument is correct. I rather agree with the wonderful Greg Boyd in his blog post imploring "Don't Weep for the Demise of American Christianity." Americanity is, I hope, in its death throes; whether Evangelicalism itself follows suit is an open question. In one way, there is soon to be a Void opening up in the Christian discourse of the nation, and the question becomes, What role are we going to play? How are we going to proceed with the funeral? (I suggest dancing and singing) and What are we going to fill it up with? Maher and Ditchkins are right to the extent that they have honed in on some of the most violent and hypocritical uses of faith, that is, what man does to it; they are also right in saying that something has to change. It does. But faith is the answer to religion. Christianity is radical because its a new way of being that is not beholden to the Law, nor to the mythical, nor to the otherworldly, nor to the nihilistic autodeconstruction of reason itself. The Christian lives a life of wonderment and passion, for the world is redeemed, the Kingdom brought only through his deeds, through his love; he works in fields he did not sow and reaps fields he will not harvest. She is in-between, a "vanishing mediator" for God and his work of drawing all things back to himself. Standard categories such as liberal, Republican, American, Jew, Greek, Mexican, Muslim are inconsequential, for we are all the same at the cross. One of my favorite theologians, Karl Rahner, argues that even the atheist cannot exist (an interesting article on the irrationality of atheists: "Look Who's Irrational Now".

And what is the Cross? It is a violent insurrection into the established order, it is chaos where once a semblance of peace existed, it is the splitting and sundry of social organizations and personal identity for the sake of one thing: God's radical and infinite gesture of love for humankind. Corporeal and social reality can experience this as nothing other than an offense, the offense of Christ, as Kierkegaard says. It is absurdly stupid--that a God should become a person, an offense to the Jews and a joke to the Greeks. G.K. Chesterton conceptualized the cross as an infinite singularity of love that burst out in every direction, encompassing all things. In Žižekian terms, it is a violent fissure within the Symbolic order, a cut that cannot be healed because it is the Real; the Symbolic will try as it may to cover it up, to ameliorate the blinding effects of Divine Love, but it will fail. 

And perhaps this is why Americanity will fail, too, because it has tried as it may to cover up the radicality of the event of the Incarnation, Crucifixion and Resurrection, the events that change everything and leave nothing in tact as it was, except as a new order of love, constituted by charity and community and zeal. Alain Badiou says that truth irrupts into the world as a surprise, and then that a community of the faithful organizes itself and every individual identity in relation to this Event. Thus I cannot organize my identity around a party, a nationality, ideological or theological convictions, "emergent" or otherwise. These, too, the market can sell me. I become a subject in my radical fidelity to this Event, in living in fidelity to the Event of the Incarnation. I suspect this is closer to what it means to be a Christian than going as a member to church on Sunday and watching Benny Hinn, or complaining about the Man and hypocritical Christians and becoming a member of Amnesty International.

In my next post or so, I want to contemplate some of the methods of Revolution we might begin to think about. If one is not convinced that things have to change, I can do nothing for you at this point. So we must move on to a conversation about the possitivity of our situation. Also, you might be interested in a terrific book by Carl Raschke, called GloboChrist. (a recent review from Christianity Today here) Carl lays out the implications of globalization for the Christian message and how it requires radical (i've used that word way too much in this post) incarnationality, that is, Christic contextualization of the gospel in every language and context, and how this, too, does not fit the typical identity names that we are comfortable with. It's a great book. 

Comments

[adam]

Soul-crushingly dark as the world may be I personally find hope in a person of your staggering intellect both concernend and consumed with saving the world. Most people who are intelligent are simply interested with destroying the things they think are hurting the world, all together rejecting the notion or need of salvation. Like our dear Mr. Maher.

It also gladdens me to hear your thoughts on pop-atheism, because I share them. It is stunning to me, honestly it gives me pause, when a truly cerebrial person cannot see that their seething hatred for a belief system, no matter how flawed they may believe it to be (most often Christianity and Islam but even something as repugnant as racism), is itself a fundamental imbalance, a facist disregard for human value and the sheer beauty of faith.

I do not pretend to understand the cross of Christ, what it means or what it did, but reading your compiled assessment and dwelling on it even briefly moves me (almost) to tears. I find hope in that as well, because it is the love (not represented by resplendent in) of Christ. And while the love is called offensive and no doubt somewhere someone will be angered by it (at least at first) I have noticed that most people at most times are unhinged by love, or if accustomed to it then at the very least overjoyed.

I look forward to your revolutionary writings. I would like to end with a question preceded by an explanation.

I have often heard as you have heard that Christianity is the one true faith because it lays claim to the one true God who is accessible only through His human counterpart/physical manifestation
Jesus Christ: the way the truth and the light.

I have often, as you have, met people who seem to embody this love, this idea, this reality of Christ and share it with those around them, even those these people I have met are not themselves Christians. I find musicians to be the purest form of this conundrum; great musicians. I do not know the depth of your love for music, I suspect, like mine, like Brandon's or Alex's or any number of others it keeps the Kraken company. I would guess that you have been to a concert or two in your time and have experienced the curious sensation by which a mere man, women or group of them, by sound engage a beauty a sadness a truth that is absolute, insofar as you can judge. And have seen the effect of this power on the people in attendance, the commradery, the bond it creates between them. Every time I witness this the same sad thought comes to mind,

"how can this person, this people, devoted to beauty and love as they are, if they are not Christians (and this is a good many of them) how can this person, these people, who nightly (and constantly via LP's and CD's) promote the brotherhood and joy that Christ professes not be on His side?"

What do you think?

Oh and by the way, Silence is being made into a film with Daniel Day Lewis and Benecio Del Toro as the leads in 2010

[Tyler]

Adam,

Your writing has become quite fecund and beautiful itself. I've really enjoyed you're comments and look forward to continuing conversation. (I'm also VERY excited about the Daniel Day Lewis and Del Toro in Silence!). Thanks for your kind words.

I don't know if I can say I share your love for music. I'm mad for classical, folk, and indie, but as a musician myself, one who was madly obsessed with playing in my teenage years, I've always had something of an ambivalent relationship to it, mainly feeling like a con artist while leading worship back when I was, and having dirty thoughts too. Verdi's are my favorite operas, Liszt blows my mind, and Schumann has a growing place on my list. I don't know how these musician folks wouldn't be, as you say, "on his side." Truth and Beauty, I would say, are--though I suspect this is the case whether the people subjectively are so or not. However, being a mediocre musician myself and knowing what it feels like to have a church or audience just a tad in the thrall, I don't know that it's any specific virtue to be able to bring people to that place, nor do I think it's particularly salvific within itself. If our emotional highs and intense moods, even mystical ecstasy brought about by music is a direct indication of someone being on the team of God, then you could say the virtual reality is wholly divine based on the fact that it can be for people "more real than real." Furthermore, direct neuronal short-circuiting that causes immediate synaptic firing without any external stimulus would be, respectively, Heaven, simply based on the "reality" of the experience experienced.

So while I adore and look for the euphoria it can inspire, and the memories, I don't necessarily put the greatest stock in music being proof of one's membership in the Kingdom of God. Nor does it seem like one's ability to appreciate it - even, in my opinion, in its most exquisite forms, opera and violin concerto - indicate that the person is necessarily kind, good, or Christian. After all, the Third Reich loved Wagner - well, that's a poor example: he is after all, as in Nietzsche's estimation, a decadent sickness that one must go through to get to health. Shall we say the Nazis just never made it to the other side of the river?