Showing posts with label America. Show all posts
Showing posts with label America. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

On Pop Theology Podcast: Episode 39 - A Christian Nation Full of Care Bears

by Ben Howard

This week Ben, Jesse and Sebastian talk about whether or not America is a Christian nation. We'll discuss the assumptions we grew up with, the conflation of American values with Christian values, and why believing America is a Christian nation makes the Revolutionary War ironic. There will also be references to The Giving Tree and Care Bears. Finally, you'll join us as we quiz Christian college students in a game called "Ben Franklin or The Bible".

If you like the show, please rate and review us on iTunes. It's the first step in our secret mission to take over the world.

You can download the podcast by clicking here. Or you can subscribe to the podcast by searching "On Pop Theology" in the iTunes music store.


Also, remember to "Like" On Pop Theology on Facebook and follow us on Twitter @OnPopTheology for all the updates, posts, and links throughout the week.

Finally, if you'd like to stream the podcast, you can do that here: 


Peace,
Ben


If you have any questions, comments, or if you just want to say hi, you can contact us at onpoptheology [at] gmail.com.

You might also like:

Tuesday, May 28, 2013

In Memoriam: Reflections After Memorial Day

flag, united states, america, stars, stripes, memorial day, rippling, pole, wind

by Sebastian Faust

I'm always ambivalent about Memorial Day, one of those chief pillars in our American civil religion. I'm ambivalent because I am a Christian pacifist. The whole "turn the other cheek" thing. The whole "bless your enemies" thing.

I'm ambivalent because the church I grew up in had the US flag up on the dais in front - a weird mingling of God's kingdom with American nationalism. Ambivalent because it was preached that we were a Christian nation with a manifest destiny laid out by God; some sort of new Israel.

I'm ambivalent because I too often heard the sacrifice of soldiers described in christological terms. They gave their lives so that I might live. It was unsettling to me. As a child, I thought, "Yeah, but Jesus didn't die with a gun in his hand; he didn't die because he couldn't shoot his enemy down."


I'm ambivalent because I know people in the military
, because I know people who have lost parents and siblings and spouses and children to the atrocities of war, because I don't want people to assume that, just because I think Christ called us to peace and to remain faithful through persecution rather than taking up arms against our foes, I thereby dishonor their loved ones.

It is Memorial Day. I am ambivalent.

And so, when it comes to honoring those who fell in battle, I will honor them, but in a different way.  I don't glorify their deeds. I don't call them heroes. But I glorify their humanity, the imago dei that beats in every breast. I mourn their death.
United Nations, statue, plough shares, swords, beat, hammerI mourn the fact of death, because it entered into the world that God has made for life. I mourn over war, because it takes up the tools of death as its own, and uses them to unmake the living. I mourn over a warring nation, not in some holier-than-thou sense, but in the sense that still we beat plough shares into swords, and from some quarters, this in the name of God, and it is painful. It leaves my mind unresolved. It leaves me ambivalent.

So what do I do with the things I mourn? What do I do with the things that hurt? What do I do with a world of militance?  If I am true to my beliefs, I bless it. 


I call on God to move, on God to bless, on God to send rain to the crops of the just and unjust alike.  I bless my friends, and I bless my enemies. I bless those on my side, and I bless those on all the others.

And there is a time for blessing the things that make me most uncomfortable.  There is a time to bless my ambivalence.
It does not mean that war is noble. It does not mean that death is heroic.  But there is a time to bless those who have fallen, even if I wish they had never taken up arms in the first place, even if i wish there there were no army for them to have joined, even if i mourn the cultural narrative of the glorious hero, and that it were instead the glorious human, in the image of the glorious God.

There is a time to bless. Yesterday it was called Memorial Day.


Bless the daytime
Bless the night
Bless the sun which gives us light.
Bless the thunder
Bless the rain
Bless all those who cause us pain.

Bless the free man

Bless the slave
Bless the hero in his grave
Bless the soldier
Bless the saint
Bless all those whose hearts grow faint.

- Benedictus, by The Strawbs

Sebastian Faust is an avowed heretic, armchair theologian, and a self-styled canary in the coal mine of pop culture. He takes life by the reins, bulls by the horns, and tigers by the tail, all while living in Nashville. You can't follow Sebastian on Twitter because he doesn't understand technology.

You can, however, follow On Pop Theology on Twitter @OnPopTheology or like us on Facebook at www.facebook.com/OnPopTheology.

You might also like: 

Tuesday, October 16, 2012

Who We Are Instead: Last Resort and Allegiance

by Ben Howard

Where does our allegiance lie?

Do we pledge our allegiance to our country? To our family? To our friends? Is there a moral code that undergirds who we are and serves as our ultimate allegiance?

These are the questions asked in the pilot episode of the new ABC drama Last Resort.

The show focuses on the captain and crew of an American nuclear submarine. With no prior warning and no known threat, the captain of the boat, Marcus Chaplin, is given an order to fire a nuclear weapon at Pakistan. However, when he receives the order, both the captain and his second-in-command, Sam Kendal, question its authenticity and refuse to fire.

When faced with the task of killing millions of people, Chaplin and Kendal do what no one in the military is supposed to do, they refuse to comply with a direct order. In response to their refusal, a fellow submarine is ordered to fire upon them in an effort to sink the sub.

Ultimately, Chaplin, in an effort to protect his crew from their own country, docks the submarine off the coast of a small island which he then commandeers as his base and new home.

Once again, this show is only a few episodes in, so there may be a litany of twists and turns in store that uncover different motivations for the characters involved, but so far the show's central questions concern loyalty, allegiance and hierarchy.

For Chaplin and Kendal, their allegiance to country is strong, but of relative importance when placed against their allegiance to humanity. When they are ordered to kill millions of people without knowing the reason, they ask. When their request is not answered, they say no.

I think Christians are called to hold their national allegiances just as loosely. Is it possible for a Christian to serve in the military or in government? Is it possible for a Christian to be part of the hierarchy? Part of the machinery of empire? Perhaps, but only if they are willing to say no when confronted with orders or choices that violate the humanity of themselves or others.

Some of you may have noticed that I said humanity there and not faith. It was a purposeful choice of words. As a Christian I do not need to defend my faith or my God, they will defend themselves. However, I am called, by my faith and my God, to defend other people; the helpless, the defenseless, the widowed, and the orphaned. I am called to defend and fan the flames of the image of God found in each and every person, including the image of God found in me.

My allegiance is not to a hierarchy or an empire, it is an allegiance to my community and my God. It is a hope that my faith will not force me to betray my community and that God will not abandon me or those I love. So I hold my citizenship loosely, just as I hold my association and allegiance to any institution loosely. I will participate and cooperate with them, but if I am forced to choose. I will pledge allegiance to God and those in his image.

Peace,
Ben

You can follow Ben on Twitter @BenHoward87 or email him at benjamin.howard87 [at] gmail.com.

Also, you can subscribe to On Pop Theology via RSS feed or email on the top right corner of the main page.



Monday, October 15, 2012

Who We Are Instead: Revolution and Redemption

by Ben Howard

A few weeks ago NBC premiered a new show called Revolution. You may have seen the previews during the Olympics. If you're trying to jog your memory, it's the one with the sword-fight scene, not the one with Matthew Perry or a monkey doctor. It's one of those shows that trying to catch the zeitgeist with elements reminiscent of The Hunger Games and Lost.

The show is set fifteen years into the future in the aftermath of a cataclysmic event that renders electronic devices unusable and electricity itself unattainable. No cars, no lights, no communication other than letters and word of mouth.

In the fifteen years since this blackout, the national government has fallen and bands of militias have taken over different sections of the country. Revolution is set in the post-event Midwest, near Chicago, an area under the jurisdiction of General Sebastian Monroe. Monroe has outlawed guns and the United States flag, now considered a sign of the underground rebellion.

Like any serialized show, the problems confronting the characters change on a week to week basis, but the central questions stay the same. The tension at the center of the show concerns the difference between who these characters were in the pre-event world and who they are now in an entirely different environment for which they were not trained.

Essentially, the characters are forced to deal with a disjointed narrative concerning who they were and who they are. If, like one character, you worked for Google, who are you now when the internet no longer exists? How does your past shape you when it no longer feels like its relevant to the essential qualities that make you who you are?

This problem of identity finds itself deeply embedded in both the American and the Christian narrative. Both communities are forced to struggle with a past, full of both highs and lows, that read more like myth than actual history. It is a past that exists, but for many in the community no longer bears a relation to present-day reality. How does this past affect us and how does it shape who we are?

The American narrative finds itself with two conflicting meta-narratives. The first is that of America as upstart, innovator and champion. This is the story we like to tell ourselves. The story of the United States winning independence over the British and establishing herself as the “Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave.” In this story, the United States grows and evolves emerging as the hero of World War I and World War II and the world's only superpower. This is the story of greatness, but it is not the only story.

There is also the story of oppression. A story that includes the genocide and repression of an indigenous people as well as the oppression, importation and slavery of a race different from that of the nations founders. It includes institutional racism and sexism that have existed long after the legal abolition of such things. It includes the blood of numerous wars and “military actions”.

Both are stories. Both are true. Both define part of what our nation is today and how we have been shaped as citizens of that nation.

It is unlikely that anyone reading this participated in either the good or the bad parts of this story. We did not write this story, but is still the story of us. In the same way that the characters from Revolution must deal with both who they were before the blackout because it has essentially shaped who they are now, so we must deal with the story that shaped us even if we are no longer active participants in that story.

A more acute example of this comes from one of the main characters in the show, Miles Matheson. Miles is the uncle of the ostensible protagonist, a teenage girl named Charlie Matheson, who seeks him out when her father is murdered and her brother is kidnapped. Since the show has only aired four episodes as of this writing, Miles back story is understandably vague, however we do know that he is a former Marine and was one of the founders of the now dominant and dangerous militia headed by Sebastian Monroe, his former friend and colleague.

Much like the American story, Miles' story is one of good and bad. He is a good Marine and tries to restore some semblance of order after the blackout, but in trying to assert his power his good intentions become warped and he creates a violent machine of destruction and oppression. This is often the story of power.

Now Miles, without the authority of his previous life, but with the knowledge and wisdom of what that power can do, can begin a journey to redeem his identity and find salvation for his past acts by helping his young niece.

This is the place where I feel the American story diverges from the Christian story.

The Christian story has a lot of commonalities with the American story. An underground, revolutionary movement with new ideas about how to organize society breaks free of its oppressive chains and rises to power and prominence. In this new position of prominence it has been able to wield nearly unmatched political authority, but this authority has also led to darker moments which taint the narrative.

In the Christian story we must deal with a past that includes the violence of the Crusades, the violent oppression of dissent during the Reformation, and the bloody conflicts between Catholics and Protestants all over Europe, but especially the British Isles. In addition, the church has stood idly by while numerous other atrocities occurred including the genocide of indigenous people on multiple continents, the oppression of minorities around the globe, and corruption within its own community.

With this in mind, the Christian story must sound alarmingly like the American story. However, the Christian story promises the hope that Miles searches for in Revolution, it promises the hope of redemption. A redeemed story embraces both the positive and the negative, the story we want to tell and the story we want to hide. In order to be redeemed, Miles must embrace both the person he was and the person he is in order to become the person he will be.

This is the Christian hope. It is not a story of abandonment and starting over, it is a story about recovering and embracing the old story and all its flaws in order to help write a new, redeemed story. This is the revolutionary message of the Gospel, not that the old will be rejected in favor of the new, but that the old will be redeemed as part of the new creation.

It is a hope that looks forward instead of back because much like the characters in the show, we will never be able to re-create the world that was. Like them, we must work alongside God and his Spirit to create something new out of something old and we must embrace the freedom and redemption that this brings.

Peace,
Ben

You can follow Ben on Twitter @BenHoward87 or email him at benjamin.howard87 [at] gmail.com.

Also, you can subscribe to On Pop Theology via RSS feed or email on the top right corner of the main page.