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Faith And Consequences

Who would now deny that the political ascendancy of the religious right has been bad for the United States? Its destructive consequences are plain for all to see. It has polarized the nation. It has injected theological certainties into public life. It has led political leaders to invest their aims and their deeds with metaphysical significance. It has made America a laughingstock in the eyes of the educated of the world. And it has encouraged devout believers to think of themselves as agents of the divine, and their political opponents as enemies of God. ~Damon Linker

I’ll be interested to hear Prof. Fox and Ross‘ reactions to this, because I expect that Prof. Fox will probably agree to some of this but ultimately find the critique to be overreaching and Ross will challenge most of the assumptions contained in this paragraph.  My response just to this first paragraph may take a post all its own.  The rest of the review of Wayward Christian Soldiers is actually much better than this initial framing that makes it part of Linker’s tired, old project of forcible separation of religion and politics.  The main reason for this is that Marsh’s thesis is much better than Linker’s own arguments on these subjects, but when Marsh is allowed to speak he makes many important points.  But first let us deal with Linker. 

It is debatable that the “religious right” has “polarized the nation,” but more than that is questionable whether the nation really is as polarised as Linker says, and further it is not obvious that this is undesirable even if it were true.  That is, it’s not clear that these consequences, even if the result of the activities of the “religious right,” are actually “destructive.”  The closer one looks at “the religious right,” the more one is struck by the extraordinary degree of hand-waving in which it engages and the paucity of influence it really has when all is said and done, but let us suppose that it has been able to do the things Linker claims.  Theological certainties are basically good things–why wouldn’t we want them ”injected” into public life?  “Injected” sounds bad–this is the sort of thing that junkies and poisoners do, they “inject” things, bad things, into their bodies or others’ bodies–but if instead we said that religious conservatives introduced (or re-introduced) theological certainties into public life, not only would religious conservatives agree that they have done, or tried to do, this, but they would be baffled as to why anyone would be concerned.  

If you believe in God and His final judgement, everyone’s acts and goals have metaphysical significance.  Linker has put things rather crudely, since this line does not just strike at Mr. Bush’s gnostic madness, but effectively attacks providential order and transcendent moral order by implying that there is something awry in attributing metaphysical significance to earthly acts.  The thing he is really attacking is the revolutionary urge to realise the Kingdom here below, but as so often with secular critics of religious conservatism Linker does not distinguish between fanatics and traditionalists.  Again, if you believe in God, everyone is ultimately an instrument of God and everyone is part of His providential order.  This is not something concocted by religious conservatives, and in any case it is once again not clear why this is inherently “destructive” or undesirable.  When Mr. Bush dresses up his war of aggression as part of some mission to realise God’s plan of liberating the world–a crazier, more destructive form of liberation theology, I dare say, than most of what comes out of Trinity United–that is worthy of condemnation, and, of course, many traditionalists have condemned it.    

Most depressing of all is this passage:

Just as the history of the civil rights movement has led the overwhelming majority of African Americans to identify themselves with the Democratic Party, so the vast run of evangelical Protestants have come to view the Republican Party as their natural home–the place on the American political spectrum where their distinctive outlook will be represented and championed.

I call this depressing because I am confident that many evangelicals believe this, and even now do not see that their genuine enthusiasm and loyalty are taken utterly for granted.  Their outlook will not be represented and championed.  It will be patted on the head and told to stay in its place, and if religious conservatives are very, very good, they will get an anti-Roe cookie while the culture goes to bits around them.  

Marsh, the author of the book, is right that the administration has engaged in blasphemy in its rhetoric.  Of course it has.  As I wrote last year:

For the same reason, there is something deeply disturbing about the conflation of God’s gifts and political liberty, and especially with the political liberation of other nations. (Disregard for the moment whether such liberation of other peoples is entirely genuine or in the best interests of the United States.) First, it can dangerously blur the lines between the sacred and the profane, investing the “freedom agenda” with a divine mandate and the presumption to represent God’s will in a shockingly impious manner. Even more importantly, in President Bush’s claim that God bestows universal freedom on all of humanity there is the danger of encouraging despair and loss of faith in a God who supposedly gives universal freedom but nonetheless withholds it from billions of our fellow human beings and who denied it to most of humanity for thousands of years. Bush’s assertion ends up sounding rather like a theistic version of Rousseau’s “man is born free, yet everywhere he is in chains,” which is a suggestion either of divine impotence or an invitation to revolutionary warfare to realize God’s supposed purpose of bestowing universal, political freedom on the world.

While I think the following overstates things a bit, I have a hard time disagreeing with this:

Just as nineteenth-century German theologians tailored God to fit the psychological needs of the rising bourgeoisie and the political needs of the Rechtsstaat, so twenty-first-century American evangelicals take their theological cues not from the Bible or the Church Fathers but from Karl Rove and Michael Gerson. 

More to the point, Gerson took his theological cues from his own sentimentalism, and the administration took its theological language from Gerson, and evangelical supporters of the administration embraced what Gerson had Bush tell them.  There is something painfully true about the critique of modern American evangelicalism as a form of liberal Protestantism, but not exactly for the reasons Linker gives.  It is the obsession with sentiment and feeling that unite the two.  Count me as broadly sympathetic with Marsh and Barth in their reaction against this, despite my obvious confessional and other differences with both.  Emotionalistic religion is not just personally alien to me, but I think it is a case of succcumbing to disordered passion.  We are all subject to disordered passion, but one of the worst kinds of this is the kind that distorts our understanding of revelation.

Update: Prof. Fox points to his response, which he wrote when the article came out a couple weeks ago.  Ross probably also responded already.  I must not have been paying much attention that week.

5 Responses to “Faith And Consequences”

  1. I have a post up that notes how arbitrary the exclusion of religious motivations from policy is. Isn’t it funny how you can enact any non-rational idea as government policy, so long as you don’t refer to supernatural.

  2. Thanks for the link, Daniel; you’re substantively correct in your guess that I would “probably agree to some of this but ultimately find [Damon’s] critique to be overreaching.” I also guessed that his first, inflammatory paragraph would distract many people from his later, arguably more sensible arguments; in that I suspect I was correct. But anyway, I did write a long engagement with Damon’s (and, indirectly, Marsh’s) arguments back when this article first appeared; give it a read, if you’d like.

  3. Now that I see your post, I know that I glanced at it, but yesterday it skipped my mind that you had already written a response. My “guess” was probably more of a partial memory of what you had said. Thanks for the comment.

  4. I don’t think Bush is trying to immanentize the eschaton. Rather, he’s resolving what he percieves as the dialectic. And crucially, the end state is not “heaven on earth” or the “kingdom of heaven” but the much more modest goal of what you call “liberal Protestantism”. It’s Fukuyama without the self-doubt… Clearly, Bush believes that liberal democracy animated by a religious spirit (any religious spirit will do) is the highest politcal order, and not the kingdom of heaven. If he were the religious revolutionary firebrand you and the article portray him as, why does he not bring the revolution home to America? The answer is, that his conception of the end state is quite modest and not even close to the Kingdom of Heaven…

    Another distinction, I’ve always felt folks lose track of when discussing this issue is the distinction btwn churchmen vs individual actors. It seems clear to me that churchmen acting politcally as churchmen presents many of the problems you lament, but how can a religious individual (i.e. Bush or an evangelical) act politically in any way other than in light of religious certainty?

  5. I think the reason not to inject theological certainties into politics is the same reason not to inject theological cerntainties into science - whatever their value is to any individual, their value to the collective of humanity is limited to what can actually be demonstrated and proven in life itself.

    I don’t mind theological certainties which can be demonstrably shown to be true, or to be of value. “Thou Shalt Not Kill” makes sense, because it can be demonstrated that murder is morally bad for any community. Likewise “Thou Shalt Not Steal”. But frankly, your belief in the final Judgement after death has no demonstrable truth, meaning, or value in life itself. I don’t begrudge your believing in it, but I would certainly resent it if you made it the basis for some political policy. The value of a policy proposal should rest on what can be demonstrated in life, not on what effect you might believe it will have on your fate after death.

    Obviously there are good reasons for this. My own theological beliefs are undoubtedly quite different from your own. But if they can’t be demonstrated to have any value in this life, I don’t see how they can be sensibly adopted by others simply because I appeal to theological certainty. This is no different than suggesting that scientists should bow to the theological certainty of religious people that we did not evolve by natural selection, but were created by God in the manner described in Genesis. I’m sympathetic to many aspects of creationist religion. I have my own particular beliefs on the issue as well. Yet I see no reason why scientific inquiry should be guided by such beliefs. It would lead to chaos and some very bad decisions with very bad consequences.

    So, as far as I am concerned, go ahead and inject theological notions into the public debate, but only if they are strongly supported by evidence, demonstrable in life, and not dependent upon belief or religious certainty. Much of theology is, in my opinion, false on all levels. I think that my own theology is right, however. Most people think similarly - they just think that their own theological ideas are correct, and those who differ are wrong. So what does a polity do? Vote based on theology, in which case the majority-held beleifs win, or vote based on demonstrable benefit, in which case only ideas, whatever their origin, that work get enacted? I think it’s pretty obvious what produces a more desirable society to live in.

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