Cultural Revolution

On May 16, 1966, Chairman Mao set into motion a movement of youth and peasants who would work untiringly for nearly a decade to rid China of all "foreign," "elitist," and "bureaucratic" elements. He called for the masses to unleash their frustration against the educated classes.

We call Mao's movement "the cultural revolution."

In that decade of ideological madness, the Chinese people learned to think and speak in clichés. Sentences often began with "as the Chairman says, …"

In the movie, The Red Violin, a woman who loves music has to hide her records and instrument from the young punks who roam the streets in search of people like her, people who care about culture. She has to sit in silence while sarcastic "no-nothings" publicly ridicule an old music teacher because the man had taught Bach and Beethoven instead of popular Chinese music. It was a time to hide one's love of learning, culture and refinement. For the moment, the mob was in control.

I believe that we are in a sort of "cultural revolution" like that in our own country. One can detect, in the political speeches from both the right and the left, an appeal to resentment, to class alienation and the economic anxieties of the populace.

On the left, this cultural war sounds something like: "wealthy people have made your lives miserable long enough. They make their money while you suffer. They get their health insurance while your children go sick. Aren't you tired of it? Don't you want a change? If we don't stop the right wing from controlling everything, some Hitler is going to take over soon and destroy the last freedoms we have left!"

On the right, the cultural war sounds something like: "Aren't you tired of how the people in the arugula and wine crowd keeps looking down their long noses at you? Well, that's who controls the media! That's who keeps trying to destroy your faith in God and the American constitution. If you let them get their way, you can say goodbye to your churches, your hunting parties and to any business opportunities that are still left in this increasingly socialistic nation of ours!"

This cultural divide deeply affects the church. It has become difficult to have a conversation about literature, art and culture from a Christian standpoint. It is even more difficult to talk about discoveries made in the last few decades in fields such as physics and paleontology. There are, to be sure, orthodox Christians in these fields and some of them write and speak, but one wonders how many believers have the patience or the capability now to actually listen to them.

I have lived long enough to see even biblical studies become a secondary concern of most churches and of most Christians. We seem to keep dumbing down and the more we do, the more shrill our voices become agaist those with whom we disagree.

To be sure, the intellectuals have brought some of this on themselves, including many theologians. Academia has become ever more detached from day-to-day reality. That is why people trained in our universities often display an alarming lack of common sense. They do often seem to mock the ideas and practices that bring comfort and meaning to millions of their fellow citizens. So it is tempting to mock them back – the pointy headed, good-for-nothing privileged class of lazy bums. However, if in the process of mocking the intellectuals we dismantle the culture and social graces that has made our civilized life possible, we may open the doors to the same barbarism that ruined Rome and brought a thousand years of a dark, illiterate, cruel and base existence to the peoples of Europe.

Our corporate leaders have also brought some of their woes on themselves. President Reagan convinced us that a rising tide would lift all boats. "If we would stop restraining business, we would create an economic machine that would make us the envy of the world. Health care would be better managed by the people who know how to make creative business decisions than by government bureaucrats. Our companies would make health care benefits a part of our pay."

Well, all of that worked for many years. Then, or so it seems to many of us, our corporate leaders learned that they could make even more money if they could break their unspoken contract with the American workers. They learned that they could employ the workers of other nations, people whose standard of living did not require the same salaries as Americans. They could buy and sell, merge, and dismantle their own companies. And, by the way, health care had now become too expensive for the companies to offer. So the workers, who were now making less pay relative to the current economic realities, were on their own. Of course, the ones who were actually sick would have a difficult time getting health insurance, but that was just the cruel reality of the global marketplace.

Regan was right, I think. However, he did not anticipate the effect of fallen human nature upon those who make corporate decisions. He was right to think that the "invisible hand of market will force a person to be prudent or to fail"; he did not seem to realize that the invisible hand of market forces will not force a man to be just or even mindful of the suffering of those who get crushed in the gears of our global economic machine. I am not saying that it is a business leader's responsibility to shoulder this reality, but by the turn if the century, we have convinced ourselves that it was nobody's concern. We had become social Darwinists – even many of us who oppose biological Darwinism!

So many of us have become dismayed and angry. Someone, or something has taken away our culture, our borders and our sense of national identity. Who is it? Who do we blame? What questions do we ask?

But where do we begin? Do we join the hatred of the left against business and thus destroy the structures that create our jobs? Or, do we join the hatred of the right against artists and intellectuals, who create the communication and dialogue that gives us meaning an purpose for our lives and culture? Which Cultural Revolution do we join? Which pied piper do we heed – the ones on the left or the ones on the right? How can we escape the sound-bite and cliche-ridden talk that passes for conversation, so we can figure out where we are and where we need to go?

My answer may sound self-righteous (and it may actually be self-righteous), but Christianity refuses to join either of these crusades against humanity. Christianity rebukes arrogant intellectuals and calls them to serve and to teach those who do not know. However, Christianity calls the person with financial gifts to serve others and not to forget the stranger, the sick, the elderly, the widow, the orphan and the other folks who get left behind.

I have been thinking about these things as all my friends push me to commit myself in this election. I am not ready to empower the rage of either side against the other. I am not holding myself aloof because I have no opinions. I am refusing to commit because I have not yet found a way to have a conversation about the issues of this campaign that is not an endless flow of clichés and repetitions of fear-based pandering.

I would like to consider the issues of this election in the light of the Lord's message in Matthew 5, 6, & 7. Senator Obama says that the Sermon on the Mount would wreck our Department of Defense. But isn't that the point? We are proclaiming a kingdom that will ultimately wreck every nation's Department of Defense. In the meantime, we tolerate the need for national defense; but we do not glory in it. We realize that even the Lord told us that we would always have the poor with us, but we don't forget them.

We take our civic responsibilities as serious as we can; but we never forget that no person and no human ideology can have our ultimate loyalty. Our kingdom hasn't come yet, but we judge all issues facing our present kingdom in the light of the values of our ultimate kingdom.

That's what makes a Chairman Mao and all his ilk so angry at us. We can't join their cultural revolution. We have another king and another country. So we make our decisions the best way we can, realizing that "here we see through a glass darkly and only then face to face".

And one thing more – some of the people on the other side of the aisle from me share my higher loyalties to the kingdom not made with hands. So I refuse to allow my transitory, provincial and limited understanding about political and cultural matters, to separate me from people with whom I intend to share eternity.

I have joined the real Revolution – the one that will soon overturn all the nations of this world. That's why I can't join the other ones -- at least with the deepest part of my heart. I am a citizen of this nation and a patriot. I believe that my allegiance to the kingdom of God has real consequences in this world in our time. I am not sitting around singing, “this world is not my home; I’m just a passin’ through. The decision to be a follower of Christ does not excuse us from the obligations that all mature people must accept, including those related to citizenship. It does force us to deal with life and with people very differently than unbelievers. It also helps us put political life in its place, as important but not ultimately so.

In Praise of Civility

When Walter Mondale and President Reagan were about to begin their first debate, Mondale began with a statement: "Tonight, I will say some strong things about the President's views and policies. I would like it to be understood that I mean no disrespect, either to the man or to his office. I enjoy President Reagan's company, and I know him to be a decent and kind man."

At this, President Reagan replied, "I like you too Fritz, let's go to it!"

The audience laughed and the debate began in earnest. Mondale did not hold back. He hit the president's policies hard. But he had already announced his boundaries: he was not going to cross the line into dishonor for his opponent.

Walter Mondale didn't win my vote that night but he did win my respect. He had modeled how a person can be passionate for his cause and still remain a gentleman. His words reflected what our national leaders thought, once upon a time: that it was as essential for a statesman to promote national unity as it was to advance his political persuasion.

I miss the values and the culture that Mondale demonstrated in that debate.

The attribute that Mondale demonstrated that night is called "civility." It is a word that is closely related to "civilization," the state of living and working together in a way that promotes the common good of all who comprise it. Civilization depends on people learning the sort of social protocol and mutual respect that will allow them to process their differences without destroying the underlying unity that makes their quality of life possible. Unless we want to adopt the ways of those nations where political differences get settled by civil war, we must remake and maintain our commitment to civility.

Here's another story that helped me learn the meaning of civility.

When I was a little boy, we became terrified about the threat of a Kennedy victory in 1960. There were all sorts of sermons and conversations in the air that year about how Catholics would run the government and persecute Protestants.

Kennedy won anyway, of course.

Some weeks after Election Day, my Dad heard me singing some anti-Kennedy chant I had learned in school. I forget the lines but it was about how unfit John Kennedy was to be President. When he heard me singing, my Dad, who had opposed Kennedy, told me to stop. I was never to sing that song again. He put his hand on my shoulder and said, "Son, John Kennedy is the president of our country. The Lord wants us to pray for him. The election is over. Mr. Kennedy won. Now all Americans must respect his office and pray for him."

The day the President was killed, my father wept. He did not say something like, "Well, Kennedy finally got his," or "That good-for-nothing Democrat is dead." He said, "Oh God, they've murdered our President." My father had somehow made the man whom he had voted against, "our president."

When we live in a democracy, we are not obligated to like the person who holds an office. We are even less obligated to like our political opponent. As believers however, we are always obligated to treat all people with respect, especially when they are the leaders of our nation. This is especially true for Christians, who are commanded to “pray for the king,” even if that king is Nero and is slaughtering other Christians.

As an American who has spent considerable periods of time living outside the country (as both of our current candidates for President have done) I have always marveled at the way we transfer the presidency and the other high offices of our land. Since the beginning, each party has been willing to pass the baton of leadership to their opponent because both have had a common commitment to values and institutions that they believed to be more basic than their underlying differences. This should not be taken for granted. It is a gift – a gift that requires civility and a high view of civilization.

Discussion about important issues ought to (and usually does) provoke people's passion. Apathy, especially over things that impacts people's happiness and well-being, is not a virtue. We all get heated about out politics, our religion and our standards of quality. We should; these things reflect who we are.

However, a warning is in order: ideas and issues are not made in the image and likeness of God; people are. It is, therefore, no crime to expose the weakness of a bad idea. It is a sin to ignore human dignity. Civilized life – learning to become a gentleman or a lady – is about making a difference between how we treat ideas and as opposed to how we treat the people who hold those ideas. Expressing sarcasm and cynicism about another human being – even our political opponent -- diminishes his or her humanity. Unbelievers can do it; a believer must not.

Mr. McCain is, as his campaign continually reminds us, a war hero. He has demonstrated extraordinary courage and patriotism in times and places where there were no cameras and no press.

Mr. Obama is an extraordinarily brilliant United States senator who now represents the hopes of millions of Americans that our long nightmare of racial division and social stratification is ending.

Surely, we can choose the candidate who most represents our views for the nation's future without demonizing, ridiculing and diminishing the other party's leader.

If all else fails, perhaps it will help to recall that when we ridicule a standard bearer of a national party during an election, we are ridiculing all those who support him. We push away our friends and family who believe differently that we do and leave no room for serious discussion.

Serious discussion requires civility, like that demonstrated by Walter Mondale in his fight for the presidency. He lost his quest for our highest office; he succeeded in keeping his country safe and united. If that's not strong leadership, I don't know what is.

What Is Liberalism?

What is liberalism?

Some of the popular definitions for the word "liberal" include "showing or characterized by broad-mindedness;" "generous and broad sympathies," tolerant," "having political or social views favoring reform and progress," " tolerant of change;" "not bound by authoritarianism, orthodoxy, or tradition;" "a person who favors a political philosophy of progress and reform and the protection of personal civil liberties."

"Liberalism," is thus a philosophy that seeks to advance "social progress," usually defined as continual movement towards increased personal freedom and broader protection for the individual from the threat of poverty, prejudice, illness and ignorance. Liberalism is thus an orientation toward the future rather than the past.

These definitions beg a question: who gets to define these terms? What is "progress," "poverty," "prejudice" and "ignorance?" How does a society alleviate the illnesses of its citizens? What is the "future" towards which liberalism pushes us? Is this future inevitable, irresistible, divinely determined or created by human initiative?

For most people claiming to be liberals, it is human government that becomes the agent of societal transformation, the force that enables "progress;" that is to say, "movement toward the future." Government decides what constitutes "ignorance," "prejudice," "progress," and "poverty" because democratic government is simply the formalized will of the people. As in the case of "conservatives," there are many different kinds of "liberals."

It may be shocking to many Americans to learn that our "liberals" are often viewed by Europeans and people of other industrial nations as "moderates" or even as "conservatives." Furthermore, even in our own country the definition of what makes a person a "liberal" varies from region to region. However, in hopes of gaining some common definition of a label we use daily, let's look at some of the possible meanings for the word.

Social liberals seek to create a secularized public sphere in which the representatives of the various religions (as well as those of no religion) can work together to maintain the common good of its citizens. The values of our public life should thus be founded upon the latest findings of science (including the social sciences.) Since a well-ordered society requires continual investment in the common good, social liberals are dedicated to public funding of such things as education, health care, mass transit, parks, and other resources that work together to promote human dignity and expression.

When stated this way, is likely that most Americans will have considerable sympathy for "liberalism." Americans generally prefer a future orientation rather than one focused on the past. The issues that provoke people who might otherwise think of themselves as "progressive" to resist the liberal label, involves the role of religion and religious values in society, the means by which social infrastructure is to be funded, and whether or not these aims can be reached without a loss of traditional culture and values.

A social liberal can be (although usually is not) a religious conservative. For example, a person who is deeply committed to his or her church and its teachings may not believe that the state ought to be an expression of any particular church. In this view, it is better for the state to be apathetic and neutral where religious questions and values are concerned. This encourages freedom for all religious people to express their various faiths unhindered by any state preference for a specific faith. Historically, this was the traditional Baptist position.

"Theological liberalism" is an intellectual attitude toward one's own faith that says in effect: "my faith contains many precious things that I do not want to lose. However, I am a modern person who must take into account all sorts of scientific discoveries and social advances. Therefore, a religious man or woman should reinterpret his or her faith in order to bring its values into the present age."

Theological liberalism makes it possible for some professing Christians in our times to support things that leave orthodox believers angry and bewildered. An obvious example is homosexual unions. Some church groups have decided that ordaining openly partnered homosexual church leaders is a "prophetic" statement that pushes the Christian faith into the modern world. An orthodox Christian, who may otherwise agree with the aim of political liberals to promote and maintain a social infrastructure, cannot conscientiously condone such actions. By rejecting such "progressive" actions, an orthodox believer becomes a "conservative" almost by default. In the present polarized political climate it becomes difficult to see another possibility.

Fiscal liberalism is the belief that a society's economic health is the result of strategic public investment. Strategies to advance social progress may include public debt or the printing of paper to float governmental expenditures. The best-known economist of this school is John Maynard Keynes, the architect of President Franklin Rooselvelt's New Deal.

A more extreme version of economic liberalism is the socialist (and mixed economy) model preferred by many European countries, especially in the aftermath of the Second World War. In this model, citizens are protected by an extensive social net that provides financial help during times of unemployment, by free or nearly free health care services, and by providing easy access to higher education.

Maintaining an economically liberal society requires the collection of higher taxes, of course, since someone must pay for all the social amenities enjoyed by the populace.

At the core of the conservative-liberal divide is the issue of how individualistic VS how communal a well-ordered society should be. Should a culture create the sorts of infrastructure that provide the greatest amount of good for the greatest numbers of its citizens? Or, should a culture provide the greatest possible amount of freedom for its creative and entrepreneurial citizens, who will in turn develop the businesses and organizations that will lift all the other citizens?

History suggests that a society that allows the greatest freedom for its creative and enterpreneurial citizens will produce the most wealth. However, this wealth often comes at an enormous cost for the elderly, the ill, the disabled and those who for whatever reason are unable to participate in the wealth of their fellow citizens. For this reason, American culture has tended to vacillate between a free-market and a commitment to social nets that protect the most vulnerable.

If you consider yourself to be a "liberal," you may want to ask whether you wish to embrace all the meanings of the term listed here or merely some of them.

If you do not consider yourself to be a "liberal", you may want to consider whether any of the aims of those referred to as "liberal" appeal to you, or whether you may share something in common with those who do.

What Is Conservatism?

What is conservatism?

The most obvious meaning of the word "conservatism" is "a philosophy that revolves around the intention to conserve." Of course, this definition begs the question – "conserve what?"

When we begin to answer the second question, "what are we trying to conserve?" we discover that there are many different kinds of "conservatives." Everyone who claims the label "conservative" is not trying to conserve the same thing.

I thought it might be helpful to look at some of the major "conservative" groups.

Social Conservatives work to conserve the values of their particular culture. In our country, we can break this subgroup down even further, into religious and secular social conservatives. A religious conservative wants to convince the nation to order its public life around the values of faith –in our country, that means some form of Christian faith. (In the American South, this means some form of Evangelical Christian faith.) A secular social conservative, on the other hand, wants to maintain the nation's traditional culture but is not as interested in the spiritual aspects of that heritage. Thus, a religious conservative may differ from a secular one over immigration or abortion. The religious conservative may be sympathetic toward his or her fellow believers from other countries, while a secular conservative may view immigration as undermining the traditional culture. In the case of abortion, a secular conservative may be much less passionate about the issue than his or her religious counterpart and may even believe that a conservative government should not interfere with a citizen's private choice.

Orthodoxy is a term worth noting here. Orthodoxy is fidelity to a common core of beliefs and practices that transcends one's own historical era or geographical location. Orthodox Judaism seeks to preserve and propagate the historical beliefs and practices of that religion. There are several forms of Christian orthodoxy – many of them related to ethnicity and culture, such as Russian and Greek Orthodoxy. However, all forms of Christian orthodoxy profess allegiance to a common core of beliefs that transcends the boundaries of time and space. For most Christians, the two major creeds of the faith embody that common core.

It is possible to be a religious conservative (and certainly to be a cultural conservative) without being orthodox. For example, a religious conservative may be passionate about the music, practice and traditions of his or her particular brand of faith while being apathetic about whether those practices have historical or biblical roots. In other words, religious conservatism is about maintaining one's religious culture (which may be decades old); orthodoxy is about maintaining one's connection to "that which has at all times and all places been believed by the whole people of God." Mormons are religious conservatives but they are not orthodox. Southern Baptists are orthodox, religious conservatives and usually social conservatives as well. Some Roman Catholics are Orthodox but not socially conservative.

Fiscal Conservatives preach the values of historical Capitalism. The most important philosopher of this philosophy is Adam Smith, the man whose ideas molded American capitalism. Alexander Hamilton, the first Secretary of the Treasurer of the United States, who almost single-handedly invented our economic system, was profoundly influenced by Smith's ideas.

Fiscal conservatives are usually (but not always) proponents of laissez faire capitalism, a fancy term that simply means, "allow the market forces to weed out bad financial judgment; don't try to regulate industry – the invisible hand of market reality will, in the long run, make life better for everyone." However, some fiscal conservatives (such as Theodore Roosevelt) have been in favor of placing boundaries around business to guard against the worst kinds of abuse against workers and consumers. (For example, a monopoly can control prices and supply in ways that rewards the monopoly but harms the consumer. Therefore, government will step in from time to time to insure that there is fair competition for goods and services in any section of the market.)
Here is a great term: "luddites!"
These people reject all forms of progress, including technological ones. The term has its roots in England, where textile workers once successfully resisted technological inventions for several decades because the new machines threatened to reorder traditional methods of making cloth.

Libertarianism is a belief that government should have a very limited function. Other than defending us when attacked or punishing murders and thieves, the libertarian's cry to government is "stay out of my life." People who hold this position have very little concern with "common goods or services." Parks, mass transit, food and drug regulation and so forth are not viewed as legitimate governmental concerns. Thus, while a religious conservative will fight for tough drug laws, a libertarian will resist the governmental intrusion into one's recreational choices. The same difference will surface around traditional morals.

A "conservative" in the American southeast is usually a religious conservative. A "conservative" in the American southwest is usually a libertarian. A conservative in the northeast is often religious and some sort of orthodox believer but probably not an evangelical. Wealthy conservatives in all these regions may or may not be religious but will most certainly be fiscal conservatives.

A religious conservative who is wealthy will probably be a fiscal conservative as well as a social conservative. A religious conservative from lower social economic levels however, may be a populist – someone who is willing to use public money to bring financial relief to people in financial duress.

As we can see, conservatism (like liberalism) is a very broad tent. An American Southerner who is a religious conservative and perhaps a fiscal one as well, may vote the same way as a libertarian but the two are hardly seeking the same kind of country. A fiscal conservative may disdain religious conservative values. A luddite who opposes trade with China will have very little in common with a free trade follower of Adam Smith.

The present bitterness in our public political discourse may well be due to the vastly different ways in which we try to define ourselves with only two labels – "liberal" and "conservative." The two labels have come to mean very little because we have tried to make them mean so much.

So if you consider yourself to be a "conservative" you should stop a moment to ask, "What am I trying to preserve? Are the people leading my party trying to conserve the same things that interest me? Am I voting for labels or have I made sure that the people claiming those labels truly hold to the values that I cherish?"

If you reject the label "conservative" for yourself, you might want to ask whether there is anything in life you wish to preserve and if so, whether you may have more in common than you might have thought with "conservatives" who wish to conserve the same things.