Saturday, June 26, 2010

James Davison Hunter in Christianity Today

Thank you, Joy, for posting snippets of that excellent feature piece in Christianity Today. The interview with James Davison Hunter is indeed excellent, and quite germane to our discussion. I would highly recommend it to all who are participating in this forum, or merely following it.

Here are some choice tidbits from the interview:

"Culture is far more profound at the level of imagination than at the level of argument. Deep structures of culture are found in the frameworks of our imagination, frameworks of meaning and moral order that are embedded in the very words we use. There's a difference between the weather and the climate. Contemporary politics is like the weather, changing day to day or week to week. But culture, in its most enduring qualities, isn't about the weather at all. It's about the climate. Changes in the climate of culture involve convoluted, contested, and contingent dynamics."

"[T]he title of my book [To Change the World] is ironic, because I'm trying to disabuse people of changing the world. We cannot control history—God alone is its author. We're accountable for our actions as individual believers and as a body of believers. The nature of that accountability is clear from Scripture, theology, and history. The point is not to change the world but to serve faithfully in our relationships, tasks, and spheres of social influence."

"The rhetoric of world changing originates from a profound angst that the world is changing for the worse, and that we must act urgently. There's a sense of panic that things are falling apart. If we don't respond now, we'll lose the things we cherish the most. What animates this talk is a desperation to hold on to something when the world no longer makes sense....It may be that the amount of rhetoric is inversely related to our actual ability or capacity to change the world. Most American Christians believe America owes its greatness to Christianity, which is now being uprooted. Uprootedness brings sadness and nostalgia. The problem here is not just the historical question—was America ever a Christian nation?—but the theological question, should America be a Christian nation? If you don't believe that America was ever or should ever be a Christian nation, you will evaluate cultural changes from a different vantage point. Some changes might be destructive, but you will not feel obliged to save America or to save the West. That's not the burden of faithful presence in the world."

"The state is the sole legitimate source of coercion and violence. When Christians turn to law, public policy, and politics as the last resort, they have essentially given up on a desire to persuade their opponents. They want the patronage of the state and its coercive power to rule the day. What makes this problematic, in my view, is that the dominant public witness of the church is political, rooted in narratives of injury and discourses of negation. The sense of deprivation among Christians leads to an ethic of revenge, or what Nietzsche called ressentiment. In different ways and to different degrees, the prevailing political theologies in American society today—the Christian Right, the Christian Left, and even the neo-Anabaptists—partake in that ressentiment and consequent will to power. And here's the tragic irony: Whenever Christian churches and organizations partake in the will to power, they partake in the very thing they decry in society."

"Christians need to abandon talk about 'redeeming the culture,' 'advancing the kingdom,' and 'changing the world.' Such talk carries too much weight, implying conquest and domination. If there is a possibility for human flourishing in our world, it does not begin when we win the culture wars but when God's word of love becomes flesh in us, reaching every sphere of social life. When faithful presence existed in church history, it manifested itself in the creation of hospitals and the flourishing of art, the best scholarship, the most profound and world-changing kind of service and care—again, not only for the household of faith but for everyone. Faithful presence isn't new; it's just something we need to recover."

8 comments:

  1. Can 300+ sects of christians, all originally disagreeing on doctrinal and theological points, really come together on sociological ones? Just curious...

    ReplyDelete
  2. In case you haven't been following the blog thus far, I dilated on that very point in the first post, entitled "I think not..." Maybe you have been. But I certainly agree that differences over theological first principals are nontrivial, and more often than not make any sort of concord on sociological (and, I would add, political) problems a virtual impossibility...

    Or did you just want to take advantage of internet anonymity to make a more or less unhelpful, slightly patronizing comment that added little to the actual dialog? Looks like you've erected a blogger profile just so you can comment here. That's really cool.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Octavius: you could be a little bit more loquacious in what you're trying to say and flesh it out a lot more than that; that being said, I see where you are coming from.

    (perhaps this is the intentional fallacy) but I think one of the things Hunter is sort of saying or implying from this article is that "mere christianity" is not enough. It lacks the imagination and solidarity that comes with tradition. And lacks what is necessary to truly be able to affect change.

    Pseudepigrapha: sarcasm will not help anything, and it will further the conversation about as much as patronizing comments will.

    ReplyDelete
  4. Jon: Good to hear from you again!

    My own view towards sarcasm is that it is the "salt on the food"; so long as the food for thought is served up as the main dish, a little sarcasm isn't necessarily out of place. Just look at the diatribes between Sir Thomas More and Martin Luther. Heavily theological, but excoriatingly sarcastic. Still, I appreciate your cautioning. I probably shouldn't have taken offense the way I did.

    Octavius Januarius: Sorry for being terse. Are you Charles Lejeune? It's immaterial, though I hope you are -- either way, would you please compose an actual post? I'd like to see you expound upon your thoughts, since I share them but get tired of reading my own posts on this blog.

    ReplyDelete
  5. This blog is just a wee bit huffy for my tastes. Or perhaps its that I am way more confused about the relationship between the two cities than I ever have been before.

    In any case, the reason for my commenting here is simply to mention that Julie McDermott (formerly Ryan) is James Davison Hunter's research assistant at the Institute for Advanced Studies in Culture (what's the difference between Studies in Culture and Advanced ones?) at UVA. That's all.

    ReplyDelete
  6. First, I don’t mean to sound condescending. Poor form on my part and apologies.

    I dislike Hunter’s statement that culture is profound on the level of imagination. Culture really has little or nothing to do with imagination, except for perhaps on God’s part - as when man creates a cheese, the cream he uses and the location of maturation will certainly impact the final product – Culture cannot be created, only cultivated.

    Now the question in my mind (and its natural extensions) is why the culture of Christendom was so great; furthermore, what led to its death; and finally, who dealt the killing blow? Who done it, if you will indulge my American sensibility.

    The first part of the question is easy to answer. Christendom’s culture was so great because at its very core (in theology, philosophy, art, music and every part of culture) it was an expression of the incarnate Son of God, who is both true and beautiful. Gothic architecture is arguably the greatest style of architecture to have ever existed – when the priest says “sursum corda” or “lift up your hearts” one cannot help but lift his heart while standing in a Gothic cathedral, it’s nearly involuntary. So it was in both art and music. Composers would create new expressions for the mass, but it was the same basic form expressing the same perfect thing - Christ's sacrifice. Art expressed Christ, the nativity, the Blessed Virgin, statues of biblical characters or scenes from the scriptures. But then something fundamentally shifted.

    The two extensions of the question I asked are the difficult part, and what I am trying to answer presently. I think the conclusion will perhaps become apparent once those are answered. I would appreciate input.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Mark: we're all strangers here. I'd appreciate some of your focused thoughts on the main board, as I'm sure Matthew would (he's the creator of the blog). If you have the time, please write something. I'd be curious to know what you think of the points I raised in "Too much history..." and "I Samuel contra Christendom."

    Octave January: I agree with your assessment of Hunter, to a point. I have no idea what he means when he says that "culture is profound on the level of imagination." No idea. It sounds contrived. However, I am equally at a loss when you say that "culture really has little or nothing to do with imagination." Even if one were to grant your point about how "culture cannot be created, only cultivated," I would submit that the cultivation of culture might require some imagination, too. Even if we're only tending a garden that God planted, wherein only He giveth the increase, it would still be an endeavor which would require the highest of our native gifts, which is, I would say, the imagination. Man's imaginative faculties, his ability to emulate God's divine creativity in producing works of culture, are evidence of the imprimatur of the divine image in him, are they not? You actually speak to this quite well in your description of art and Gothic architecture -- or at least you seem to. Or do you mean to imply that culture just happens and people are just there when it does? If man is not the creator of culture, is he not at least its shepherd? I wonder if the composers who created new liturgies and cantatas used their imaginations. Really, I'm not mocking you -- doesn't imagination actually have a lot to do with culture? I'm not speaking about a causal relationship between imagination and culture, but rather a strong correlation. I think the imagination, of all the faculties, is the most divine, the most heavenly -- a fact which, if true, makes it the most wicked of all when it is depraved, much like Aristotle's ideal and perverted forms of rule. Here I think Russell Kirk's treatment of Burke and the former's distinction between the moral and diabolical imaginations is quite apposite.

    You've given me, and I think everyone who has chanced upon our dialog, some very good food for thought. Thank you. You've also given me some ideas for a new post, one which I hope will maybe give some of that input that you'd like and move our conversation in a different direction.

    ReplyDelete