Dispatches from the religious left

by Frederick Clarkson

  What does it mean to be part of the Christian Left? I can only speak for myself, but I see distinct differences between a progressive Christian worldview and the views of most leaders of the Christian Right. Here are some of my yardsticks for measuring the differences between the Christian Right and Christian Left.

  RELIGIOUS BELIEF: TRIUMPHALIST OR PLURALIST?

  A few years ago I was invited to a national conference of relatively conservative evangelicals to talk about how some Christians use specific apocalyptic readings of Biblical text to justify demonizing other people and groups. These folks felt this was a problem and wanted to know more about how to resist these tendencies. After my presentation, an audience member politely asked me what I thought of the fact that most of the attendees believed the only way to heaven was through accepting Jesus Christ as lord and savior-so that only Christians can be saved from eternal death.

  The preacher from the host church, next to me at the podium, touched my arm and stepped forward. "I know what our churches teach," he said, "and I am not going to challenge it." Then he paused, "but if God let's everyone into heaven, if everyone is saved, would that be such a bad thing?" In his elegant answer, the preacher demonstrated how humility can honor specific orthodox religious beliefs while creating space for democratic pluralism. His was a way to expand the circle of those seeking justice, not shrink it.

  When a religious leader insists that it is "my way or the highway" (to Hell), that attitude is called "Triumphalism." In Christianity, triumphalism has been the driving forces the Crusades and the Inquisition, as well as fostering numerous wars, purges, witch hunts, and the persecution of dissidents labeled "heretics."

  Partly in response to this grim history, the U.S. Constitution was designed to promote a pluralist society, where people can choose to have or reject religious beliefs, and change their minds about these things free from the undue influence of government or powerful religious institutions. The Bill of Rights starts out with the mandate that "Congress shall make no law respecting an estab lishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof." The Religious Left that I am helping build is one that defends pluralism against triumphalism, as we see pluralism as a core value of democratic civil society.

  GOVERNMENT: DOMINIONISM OR SEPARATION?

  "Dominionism" is a tendency among Protestant Christian evangelicals and fundamentalists that encourages not only active political participation in civic matters, but also seeks to dominate the political process, all as part of a mandate from God. The Christian Right's road to political power is paved with the tenets of dominionism. This highly politicized concept is based on Genesis 1:26:

  "And God said, Let us make man in our image, after our likeness: and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth."

  Most Christians read this and conclude that God has appointed humans as stewards and caretakers of the Earth. Some Christians however believe, as Sara Diamond explains, "that Christians alone are Biblically mandated to occupy all secular institutions until Christ returns-and there is no consensus on when that might be." That, in a nutshell, is the idea of "dominionism." In The Public Eye, Frederick Clarkson identifies the commonalities across the range of dominionist ideas:

  Dominionists celebrate Christian nationalism, in that they believe that the United States once was, and should once again be, a Christian nation. In this way, they deny the Enlightenment roots of American democracy.

  Dominionists promote religious supremacy, insofar as they generally do not respect the equality of other religions, or even other versions of Christianity.

  Dominionists endorse theocratic visions, insofar as they believe that the Ten Commandments, or "biblical law," should be the foundation of American law, and that the U.S. Constitution should be seen as a vehicle for implementing Biblical principles.

  Some liberal authors warn that most conservative Christian evangelicals desire a fascistic Christian Nationalist Theocracy, like that outlined by hardcore Dominion Theology movements such as Christian Reconstructionism. That's like suggesting that all vegetarians want to round up and execute meat-eaters.

  SACRED TEXT: MARCHING ORDERS OR STUDY GUIDE?

  For over a century, Baptists in the United States prided themselves on the belief that each individual was empowered to read the Bible independently, and to interpret the sacred text in his or her own way. This view began to change when authoritarian ultraconservatives took over the Southern Baptist Convention in the 1970s and began issuing ultimatums banning women as preachers and stigmatizing a growing enemies list that included gay people, reproductive rights advocates, political liberals, and even Freemasons.

  However, what if all sacred text is the inspired word of God, imperfectly understood and transposed by imperfect human beings? Then the point is to use the text as a study guide for trying to imagine the possibilities and our obligations to those possibilities. The Religious Left I am part of is composed of folks seeking the truth, but never so arrogant as to believe that they speak for God. We certainly don't use our sacred texts to justify oppression.

  Dr. Peter J. Gomes, minister at The Memorial Church at Harvard University, argues that the Bible must be read carefully to avoid using the text to legitimize "doctrinaire prejudices" in the dominant culture. In Zhe Good Book: Reading the Bible with Heart and Mind, Gomes suggests Biblical literacy as an antidote to Biblical literalism.

  RELIGION: EMPIRE OR LIBERATION?

  Ruby Sales is the founder of Spirit House in Washington, D.C. In the 1960s, she joined the Civil Rights movement while a student at Tuskegee University in Alabama. After becoming involved in the Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee, Sales was arrested in 1965 along other activists for protesting against segregation and conducting a voter registration drive. Upon her release from jail, Sales and her colleagues were confronted by an enraged white racist wielding a shotgun. To her horror, Sales saw her organizing colleague and friend Jonathan Daniels, a White Episcopalian seminary student, shot to death on the street after he pushed her out of harm's way. The trauma left Sales speechless for seven months, but she persevered, found her voice, and carried on with her activism, eventually attending the same divinity school where Daniels had studied. Today, Sales continues to struggle for justice, tempered with compassion.

  After the demoralizing 2004 re-election of George W. Bush, I spent several days with Sales and other activists. We talked about how we are mandated by our spiritual beliefs to stand up and speak out in support of justice, and how we all have to choose sides in the endless struggle. Are we on the side of the powerful, the arrogant, the bullies who seek empire? Or are we on the side of the weak, the impoverished, the marginalized, seeking liberation for those who are suffering under the weight of oppression?

  Sales placed the unsettling 2004 elections in the context of a historic struggle within Christianity:

  The Empire religion espoused by George Bush and his white Christian conservative allies is headed by a God who appears to be white supremacist, patriarchal, and upper class, one who stands on the side of enslavement and the genocide of native peoples throughout the globe.

  This is the message of conservative right-wing Christians, who misuse scripture to justify their beliefs, and hide their intentions behind self-centered and pious God talk that undergirds and propels exclusion and dominationwhether about the inferiority of women, black people, or lesbians and gays.

  Liberation Christianity begins with the assertion that God is on the side of the oppressed rather than the side of the Empire. This was the belief of a radical Jew named Jesus, who challenged the Roman Empire.

  Empire Christianity is based on oppression. My version of progressive Christianity sees sin as the will to oppress. Therefore, one of the ways in which we overcome sin is by opposing empire and working for the liberation of all people from empires, small and large.

  APO
CALYPTIC PROPHECY: GUERILLA WAR OR REDEMPTIVE PEACE?

  Christianity, Judaism, and Islam all draw from apocalyptic traditions that date back thousands of years. The words apocalypse, prophecy, and revelation come from the same linguistic roots; to day, the concept means the belief in an approaching confrontation representing a struggle between good and evil during which hidden truths will be revealed, after which society will be transformed.

  For fundamentalists such as Tim LaHaye and John Hagee, the apocalypse involves a global battle between Godly Christians and agents of Satan that will begin in the Middle East, follow by the return of Jesus to the Temple Mount in Jerusalem. Then, unless we all confess our sins and embrace Jesus, we will be gathered together and slaughtered by an angry God. The method of execution is a gigantic wine press that crushes us until our blood flows in a gushing river through the valley of Megiddo in Israel. Thus, the grapes of wrath. The cosmic hit list is long, and includes not just heretical or flawed Christians, but also secular humanists, Godless liberals, reproductive rights advocates, gay men, lesbians, Muslims, Hindus, and most Jews (except for the 144,000 who convert to Christianity in the nick of time, according to one literal reading of sacred Biblical text).

  Brenda E. Brasher, a sociologist of religion, explains that "Apocalypticism is potentially beneficent or potentially destructive" and what helps determine the outcome is how the "person or group or idea being confronted" is constructed. Brasher explains that this depends on the "definition of the status of the `Other' in the anticipated confrontation. If the `other' is constructed as wholly evil, then the ramifications are really horrendous." According to Brasher, in this negative dualistic form:

  Apocalypticism leaves no room for ambiguity in the stories told about the "Other." There is a real hardening of sides. We are good, they are evil. This is not a disagreement, but a struggle with evil incarnate, so there is no structure for a peaceful reconciliation.

  People are cast in their roles as either enemy or friend and there is no middle ground. In the battle with evil, can you really say you are neutral?

  In contrast to this worldview, the apocalyptic tradition of many African American evangelicals is far more positive and hopeful, rooted in the idea that the apocalypse will bring justice. One interpretation is that there will come a day when white Christians will confess the sin of racism and are forgiven and redeemed. This was the prophetic tradition of the Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr.

  MAKING PROGRESS

  "Pray for the dead and fight like hell for the living."- Mother Jones

  For many of us on the Christian Left, the inevitable apocalyptic confrontation is not a bloody guerrilla war, but the necessity of speaking truth to power, challenging the status quo, and thus transforming society. Our vision of prophecy leads us to seek the Beloved Community. For those of us challenging the Christian Right, the issue is not secular versus spiritual ideologies; the issue is how to craft a pluralist civil society that honors the dignity of both secular philosophy and spiritual faith-while insisting that theological claims alone should never dictate public policy. That is why we say we are challenging theocracy, because that is what the Christian Right leadership is increasingly sowing: a theocratic society.

  Stereotyping all conservative evangelicals as a bunch of theocratic fascists, however, is counterproductive histrionics. Most evangelicals don't want tyranny, and many have been involved for decades in movements to protect the environment, end the arms race, seek peace, alleviate poverty, develop compassionate policies for health care and housing needs, and support a living wage for working people. Reports that these are new trends or irresolvable wedge issues signaling the imminent collapse of the Christian Right are ahistorical and absurd.

  It is also counterproductive to denounce religion itself as the problem. Setting aside the historic reality that secular totalitarians have been just as bloodthirsty and brutal as religious totalitarians, there is the obvious practical issue that in a society where the vast majority of residents believe in God, no sensible and serious organizer is going to get very far denouncing religion. I work with plenty of secularists and agnostics, and while we happily debate religion and faith over a beer, when we are out in public as organizers, we set those differences aside so that we can build a broad coalition. Simply put, progressive need to learn how to work in alliance with people of faith.

  Loretta Ross is the National Coordinator of the SisterSong Women of Color Reproductive Health Collective in Atlanta, Georgia. She is adamant that if we want to build a truly progressive human rights movement, the "secular left and the religious left need each other," but, at the same time, we "don't need to pull each other to our particular point of view" on matters involving faith. People can maintain their own beliefs, while coming to understand that "real allies need each other in ways that are not patronizing or disrespectful," Ross says. "As organizers, we need to understand and enthusiastically support the need for people to have rituals and beliefs just like we want others to respect ours. It is kind of hard to persuade people you hold in contempt. We need to learn how to respect and embrace differences among people moving in the same direction."

  Across town, the Reverend Timothy McDonald, pastor of the First Iconium Baptist Church, explains that in the Black community, "it is almost expected that an independent Black pastor is engaged and involved in some way and some form with human rights and civil rights struggles." McDonald is a national leader in these arenas, as are many Black pastors and parishioners. Yet many White organizers are still reluctant to join coalitions with religious people of color. As a progressive, when I look for ideas from people of faith, I look to many different voices and beliefs, including the Reverend Carlton Veazey, President of the Religious Coalition for Reproductive Choice; Rabbi David Saperstein, Director of the Religious Action Center of Reform Judaism; the Reverend Susan Brooks Thistlethwaite, president of Chicago Theological Seminary; Mohammad Ja'far Mahallati of the Ilex Foundation, and Pastor Dan Schultz of the online community Street Prophets. On a personal level, I turn to friends with whom I share communion, including the Reverend Denise Griebler, a United Church of Christ minister in Illinois, and Dart Westphal, a community organizer, environmental activist, and lay leader at the evangelical Lutheran Church of the Epiphany in the Bronx.

  As a movement, the Religious Left is a work in progress. However, just think about how powerful it would be to build a broad coalition based on a shared commitment to craft a democracy that really works, and in which all people are full members. Where oppression, supremacy, and greed are denounced as uncivilized?

  Building such a movement is hard work. Bernice Johnson Reagon, an activist, scholar, and performer, appreciates the difficulty of building diverse and democratic coalitions. Attending a 1981 meeting of women held at a high altitude national park, Reagon found herself having difficulty breathing. In that she sees a parallel to building powerful coalitions. "I feel as if I'm gonna keel over any minute and die. That is often what it feels like if you're really doing coalition work. Most of the time you feel threatened to the core and if you don't, you're not really doing no coalescing."

  As progressives, let us agree to disagree on the issue of spiritual belief. There are so many other matters on which we can wholeheartedly agree. It's time to take a risk and do some real coalescing. As we enter a new phase of the struggle for basic human rights, the chances of success will be greatly enhanced if we learn how to bridge divides of race, class, gender, sexual identity, and personal beliefs that range from secular to religious.

  In the mid 1990s, I worked with human rights activists Loretta Ross and Suzanne Pharr to gather together a circle of progressive strategists to evaluate our work as national organizers and researchers. We did so with a real sense of humility. Our failures and missteps were many. Following three days of heartfelt discussion and candid self-criticism, we wrote "A Call to Defend Democracy and Pluralism." Here is how we ended our essay:

  The leaders of the anti-democratic right say their
movement is waging a battle for the soul of America. They call it a culture war. We believe the soul of America should not be a battleground but a birthright, and that culture should be celebrated not censored. We believe America is defined by ideas and values, but not those limited by religious beliefs, biology, bloodlines, or birthplace of ancestors. The time has come to stand up and vigorously defend democracy and pluralism against the attacks orchestrated by cynical leaders of the anti-democratic right. History teaches us that there can be no freedom without liberty, no liberty without justice, and no justice without equality; and we look forward to success because we know it is through the never-ending struggle for equality, justice, liberty and freedom that democracy is nourished.

  Today, I see young organizers stepping up to the challenge of rebuilding a truly democratic and diverse progressive movement for social change. I have great hope for the future as these activists assume leadership roles. Ultimately, I see us all as links in a chain of the struggle for justice that stretches back before recorded history and reaches forward into the future.

  WHO'S GOD?

  FAITH, DEMOCRACY, AND THE

  MAKING OF AN AUTHENTIC

  RELIGIOUS LEFT

  REV. OSAGYEFO UHURU SEKOU

  It seemed that both god and democracy had failed. How could a nation that claimed to be a democracy abandon the citizens of New Orleans? Why would god allow some of the poorest people in the nation to be swept away?

  As the post Katrina horrors unfolded before me, I was plagued by these questions of political angst. In addition, I was also experiencing a profound crisis of faith. I had moved to New Orleans to serve as founding Executive Director of the Interfaith Worker Justice Center of New Orleans. When I arrived a year and half after Katrina hit, I found a city in total disrepair, with few signs of organized success towards rebuilding.

  I lived in Algiers on the West Bank of the Mississippi River. Each day, at around 7:30 in the morning, I would leave my four room shotgun house and walk to the neighborhood cafe, Tout de Suite, responding along the way to several patrons singing, "Good morning, Reverend." I would grab a stool at the coffee bar, drank a double cappuccino, and depart to a similar serenade, "Have a good day, Reverend."