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Davy
Carlin, in A Personal Voyage
of Taboo, has opened up what could prove to be
an interesting, and much needed, debate. The whole
issue of faith and politics is, as Davy rightly suggests,
a taboo subject. Churchmen will engage in inter-faith
dialogue. Politicians will engage in political dialogue.
Community activists will engage in inter-community
dialogue. But seldom will we find all three coming
together to discuss the relevance of faith to politics
and social policy. We like to think that faith and
politics and faith and social action are separate.
Yet scratch us deeply and we will find that many elements
of our political and social attitudes are influenced
by beliefs that stem from either theistic or atheistic
ideas.
In
many cases - perhaps the majority of cases - religion
is more civic (nominal) than spiritual, but just as
powerful in terms of its influence. I am not suggesting
that the conflict in Northern Ireland is a religious
conflict in the sense that people are fighting over
issues like transubstantiation or the veneration of
saints. However it is a conflict that does have religious
implications because in many ways it is a conflict
between Catholic Nationalism and Protestant Unionism.
This is well illustrated in the respective positions
adopted by both Eamonn de Valera and Sir James Craig
soon after the secession of the twenty-six counties.
As
early as 1931 de Valera claimed that "There was
an Irish solution that had no reference to any other
country; a solution that came from our traditional
attitude to life that was Irish and Catholic. That
was the solution they were going to stand for so long
as they were Catholic" . Four years later, in
his St. Patrick's Day address to the nation, de Valera
made it quite clear that Ireland was a Catholic nation
- "Since the coming of St Patrick 1500 years
ago Ireland has been a Christian and a Catholic nation"
and, he concluded, "she will remain a Catholic
nation". There was no mistaking where de Valera
stood - Ireland was, and would continue to be, a Catholic
nation.
Sir
James Craig, when Prime Minister of Northern Ireland,
responded to de Valera a few years later with his
much quoted comment, “In the South they boasted
of a Catholic state. They still boast of Southern
Ireland being a Catholic state. All I boast of is
that we are a Protestant Parliament and a Protestant
state”. De Valera’s Catholic Constitution
for a Catholic Nation was mirrored in James Craig’s
Protestant Parliament for a Protestant People, and
both were proclaiming publicly what most people knew
privately, that the politics of the Irish conflict
had deep religious roots.
Even
today we still use the terms Catholic and Protestant
as synonyms for Nationalist and Unionist. SDLP and
Sinn Fein spokespersons use the terms “Catholic”,
“Irish” and “Nationalist” interchangeably
when referring to their communities. DUP and UUP spokespersons
use the terms Protestant and Unionist in a similar
manner to describe their communities. There is a wide
range of social and political positions that are rooted
and grounded in theological principles. These need
to be addressed and they need to be addressed, not
just by church leaders and theologians, but by a broader
range of political, civic and community leaders.
It
is for this reason that I welcome the debate initiated
by Davy Carlin. However I am not sure that we can
unpack the core issues of religious influences, be
they for good or evil, on social and political life
if we get bogged down in a debate over the authenticity
of the gospels or the existence of Jesus. That debate
has been ongoing since the first century and will
continue so long as there are people who come to the
debate with their own theistic or atheistic presuppositions.
I am not suggesting for one moment that the historical
reliability of the gospels is not relevant. Far from
it, without the historical events recorded in the
gospels Christianity is just another set of beliefs.
Different
scholars have come to widely divergent conclusions
about the historical reliability of the gospels. Those
of us who have had the luxury of researching the scholarly
debates relevant to the reliability of the gospels
and the existence of Jesus will make up our own minds
based partly on our own presuppositions and partly
on the evidence and the quality of arguments based
on that evidence that is presented to us. For those
who have not had that luxury, the debate would be
meaningless; and for the vast majority of believers,
whether Protestant or Catholic, their faith is all
the evidence that they need. Clearly Davy and I hold
different views on the issue and I see little value
in us rehearsing the time-worn arguments for and against
our respective positions.
What
is important is the need for debate on the influence
of religion on social and political issues, particularly
where religion has been used as a tool for political
manipulation and oppression or where it has been used
to justify religious nationalism. As I see it, the
crucial issue in that debate is not so much the credibility
of the gospels as it is about the credibility of the
interpretations placed on the teachings of Jesus in
the gospels. Virtually all New Testament scholars,
both for and against the historical reliability of
the gospels, agree that they were written primarily
for theological rather than historical reasons. Thus
Matthew, Mark, Luke and John were primarily interested
in conveying their understanding of the person and
work of Jesus to their first-century readers. Interpreters
of the gospels are no different. Most New Testament
exegetes approach their task with certain theological
presuppositions. They may be influenced by the social
system or the political environment in which they
live or by the doctrine of the church to which they
belong rather than the social, religious and political
context of the first century. Thus all too often we
have theological interpretations of material based
on presuppositions, prejudgements and questions that
were not known to the gospel writers.
Schweitzer,
in his “Quest of the Historical Jesus”,
shows how 18th century commentators on the Life of
Christ reflected more the beliefs and ideas of their
own period than the period in which Jesus lived. The
rationalist Venturini gave us a rationalist Jesus.
The romantic Renan gave us a romantic Jesus. In more
recent times the pacifist, John Howard Yoder, presented
us with a pacifist Jesus while the liberation theologian,
Jon Sobrino, presented us with Jesus the Liberator.
Materialist approaches to the person and work of Jesus
are provided by the Portuguese Marxist, Fernando Belo
(A Materialist Reading of the Gospel of Mark”)
and Michel Clevenot (Materialist Approaches to the
Bible). In all cases the commentators start with the
premise that the historical Jesus did exist.
The
problem with so many interpretations of the gospels
and the teachings of Jesus is that we have as many
portraits of Jesus and as many teachings as we have
interpreters. The problem is exacerbated when the
interpretations are proclaimed as the truth to the
exclusion of all other interpretations and are further
exacerbated when these ‘truths’ influence
the development of social policy and political philosophies.
It is in such situations that religion can be used
as a tool for either political exploitation and oppression
or for spiritual and/or socio-political liberation.
For better or for worse gospel commentaries and the
theological concepts that are drawn from them are
based on presuppositions that are all too often read
back into the gospels rather than drawn out of the
gospels. It is my firm belief that Jesus should be
interpreted within the social, political and religious
context of the period in which He lived.
But
to get back to what I feel is a crucial issue - the
use and abuse of religion for social and political
purposes. To ridicule people for having faith in God
is to miss the point. We need to make people accountable,
not for the object of their faith, but for the practical
outcomes of their faith. If I claim to be a follower
of Him who demanded that I love my neighbour as myself
then I must be held accountable when I fail to practice
that teaching. As I see it, the big problem with those
of us who claim to be Christians is that we do not
always practice Christianity. We have a tendency to
practice our own prejudices and then try to use texts
from the Bible as justification. I am saying “we”
here, because I am all too aware of my own shortcomings,
prejudices and failures. If Davy Carlin is asking
people like myself to examine the relationship between
faith and politics (indeed, between faith and daily
living) with a view to getting rid of the negative
and destructive elements of religion that we have
tacked on to the teachings of Jesus, then I am in
full agreement.
Davy
reflects on the fact that religion generally takes
root amongst the poor. This is true. In a great many
cases religion provides an other-worldly source of
comfort in the midst of poverty and oppression. For
some it is a crutch to help them limp out of a bad
situation, but for many it is a genuine deeply felt
experience that remains even when the good times come.
It is because these genuine spiritual experiences
are so real that those at the top of societal power
structures all too often use religion as a tool for
social control and oppression. If the experience was
simply a shallow crutch it could never become a tool
for control. There is nothing wrong where a person's
faith genuinely brings a sense of inner peace and
fortitude in the midst of suffering. That is not something
to be knocked. A spiritual experience to be authentic,
and to have real life-fulfilling meaning, should exist
in times of joy as well as in times of sadness. What
we must challenge is the belief that a sense of inner
peace in times of despair is all that religion has
to offer offer.
True
religion must also facilitate actions that address
the root causes of poverty and oppression. It must
also challenge those who use religion as a tool for
social control. Fidel Castro said, “the church
should take the lead in responding to the widow, the
orphan, the hungry and the needy.” Notwithstanding
the differences in belief and ideology that exists
between Castro and Jesus, I would suggest that no
genuine follower of Jesus could disagree with his
statement.Indeed if we set Castro’s comments
alongside those of the Apostle James (James 1.27)
we will see that they are both singing from the same
hymn-sheet.
This
is where the debate needs to be focused and where
we can learn from liberation theology. Theology needs
to be done by those at the cutting edge of poverty
and oppression if it is to be relevant to their needs.
As J.R. Levison has noted, liberation theologians
"feel that the communities of the oppressed should
be the interpreters of the Bible". A theology
that identifies and names injustice and that leads
to actions that challenge injustice must be rooted
in the experience of those who have or are suffering
injustice. That will directly challenge traditional
methods of doing theology. Again, to quote Levison,
"In a world of injustice, biblical interpretation
must be shifted from the educated elite to the oppressed.
When this occurs, some interesting interpretations
of the Bible in general and Jesus in particular result".
A
"people's theology" must start with the
historical Jesus who lived and worked amongst the
people, not with a Jesus who has been defined philosophically
by theologians. That means analysing the socio-political
context of first century Palestine and interpreting
the narratives of Jesus ministry within that context.
A Christology that starts and ends with the creeds
has nothing to offer those who seek to challenge injustice
and oppression. Christology must start with the historical
Jesus for it is the Jesus of the gospels, not the
Jesus of the theologians, who challenged the social,
political and religious power structures of His day.
As
a scientific socialist, Davy will naturally feel that
Jesus (whether the historical Jesus or the Jesus of
the creeds) is irrelevant to his socialism. As a Christian
socialist Jesus is fully relevant to me. I am motivated
by the life and teachings of the historical Jesus
and sustained in my daily living by the Risen Christ.
This is where I part company with many liberation
theologians who appear to have problems with the idea
of a Risen Christ. If the crucified Jesus did not
rise again (no matter how you interpret the resurrection)
He was nothing more significant than any other radical
teacher. Why apply Marxist theories to the teachings
of Jesus if Jesus was simply one of many radical teachers?.
Marxism does not need Jesus to be relevant and liberation
theologians who reject the Risen Christ ought to stick
with Marx and go the full way an also reject the historical
Christ. With a foot in both camps are they not as
guilty as the powerful elite of using religion as
a political tool (albeit in a good cause)?
I
can respect Davy for being consistent. As a scientific
socialist he feels no need to use religion either
as a source of inspiration or as a tool to manipulate
others. I trust too that he will respect my position.
As a Christian my social conscience, and thus my social
actions, are rooted in my spiritual beliefs and I
would hope that my faith is my motivation and not
something that I use as a tool to manipulate others.
Where there is mutual respect for our differing belief
systems, coupled with agreement as to what is needed
in terms of social and political change, I believe
that we can do business.
As
Davy has rightly pointed out there are a lot of taboo
subjects associated with the issue of religion that
need to be unpacked. We have only scratched the surface
and perhaps we can continue with the debate without
imposing too much on the other contributors to the
Blanket.
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