Until Justice & Peace Embrace (Part 1/3)
Two weeks ago I posted a video of Nicholas Wolterstorff speaking on the topic of justice in Scripture. At that time I mentioned being in the middle of his book Until Justice and Peace Embrace, and that I expected to finish reading it in about three years. Well, I’m happy to say I finished ahead of schedule. I had every intention of keeping this brief, but the book is simply so full of such rich material that I had to turn it into a three-part series. For anyone concerned with the intersections of faith, development, justice and peace -- as I am -- Wolterstorff gives us a lot to chew on. Here is some of what I found most helpful, broken down in bite-size pieces.
Appropriating the Reformed tradition
The book began as the Kuyper Lectures at the Free University of Amsterdam thirty years ago, and as Wolterstorff explains in the preface, the ideas he presented were an attempt to appropriate the Reformed/Presbyterian tradition to which he and many in his audience belonged. “Appropriation of one’s tradition implies neither uncritical acceptance nor total rejection,” he writes. “It entails a discriminating adaptation of its features to one’s own situation.”
World-formative vs. avertive traditions
The Reformed/neo-Calvinist tradition at its best, he says, is a world-formative tradition, as opposed to an avertive one, such as the predominant Medieval expression of Christianity. He spends a chapter articulating the difference between the two kinds of traditions, but in a nutshell, world-formative traditions (Reformed and otherwise) believe that faithfulness to God requires active involvement in society.
Lima, Amsterdam and beyond
Liberation theology emerged within the Catholic Church in revolutionary Latin America during the second half of the twentieth century. It too is a world-formative tradition, focused on theologizing through the eyes of the poor, and working for political liberation from rampant injustice -- even, if necessary, through violent means. Liberation theology and neo-Calvinism have some similarities beyond the fact that they’re both world-formative, Wolterstorff says, but they also have a key difference, and it’s a fascinating one to me: one (liberation) views societal problems through the category of sin; the other (neo-Calvinism) through the category of idolatry. Which is right? Can you pick one?
We do in fact live in a world-system in which the core dominates the periphery, characteristically out of greed and a lust for power. What is that but sin? We do in fact live in a world-system shaped by the practice of treating economic growth as an autonomous and ultimate good. What is that but idolatry?
Both frameworks have validity, Wolterstorff argues, and both correct deficiencies in the other. And this is where I am so impressed with him for appropriating his own tradition, just as he said. He doesn’t uncritically accept it or totally reject it. But he called his audience in Amsterdam, and he calls you and me today, to a vision beyond either of these two world-formative traditions. What is that vision?
Shalom
Shalom, he writes, "is both God's cause in the world and our human calling." It's "intertwined" with justice but distinct from it:
In shalom, each person enjoys justice, enjoys his or her rights. There is no shalom without justice. But shalom goes beyond justice. Shalom is the human being dwelling at peace in all his or her relationships... But the peace which is shalom is not merely the absence of hostility, not merely being in right relationship. Shalom at its highest is enjoyment in one's relationships... To dwell in shalom is to enjoy living before God, toenjoy living in one's physical surroundings, to enjoy living with one's fellows, to enjoy life with oneself.
Because shalom is about right relationships, it's about ethics and responsibility. But if enjoyment and delight are missing, it's not shalom. That's a pretty compelling vision, if you ask me. We'll explore some of its ramifications tomorrow.
Catholicism vs. Communism in Cuba
I’m always on the look-out for interesting reporting on the intersections of faith and social/economic/cultural/political trends in Latin America, so a headline like this really grabs my attention: God and Profits: How the Catholic Church Is Making A Comeback in Cuba. It’s from Tim Padgett in TIME and it takes a look at the resurgence of the Catholic Church and the looming questions about what role it will play in Cuba’s very uncertain future:
The church is discovering that being the first — and only — alternative institution to the Cuban revolution is both a blessing and a curse. As President Raúl Castro, who took over for his ailing older brother Fidel in 2008, tries to engineer politically perilous economic reforms in his severely cash-strapped nation, he seems to have decided the church is the only noncommunist entity he can trust to aid those transitions without seriously challenging his rule. Speaking to the National Assembly in August, Raúl even offered a mea culpa for decades of blacklisting "Cubans with religious beliefs."
Some accuse the Church leadership of turning a blind eye to the Castros’ human rights abuses, while others just say it's moving too slowly. Padgett makes a good point about tempering perhaps impossibly lofty expectations: the Catholic Church in Cuba wasn’t particularly strong even before the revolution in 1959, at which point Fidel Castro declared Cuba atheist, so any change in the country led by the Church will take some time. The fact that it exists as the "only alternative institution to the Cuban revolution" is itself an accomplishment.
But Cuba is changing. Raúl Castro has begun easing economic restrictions and entrepreneurs are finally enjoying some breathing room. Most recently, the sales of cars are finally allowed. Additionally, Padgett reports that a large international Catholic charity stands by, ready to do its part if the decades-long feud between Cuba and the US doesn’t stop it:
Caritas hopes to launch a micro-loan project to help Cubans grow beyond timbiriches — tiny informal businesses, like vendors of homemade sweets, that the Castros have allowed since the 1990s — to enterprises that can absorb the almost 20% of the state workforce facing layoffs. If Havana and Washington permit it, nonprofit groups in the U.S. and Europe tell TIME they're set to channel tens of millions of dollars to Caritas for a micro-loan fund. "My last hope is the church," says Roque, a thin, middle-aged former Cuban soldier who was among the throng welcoming Our Lady of Charity to Havana in September. "They help with extra food and are sending me to computer lessons."
I hope Caritas will be allowed to do its work and that the Cuban government continues to ease restrictions in general. For its part, I hope the US does away with the embargo. And I hope and pray that the rising evangelical church in Cuba becomes a full participant in the making of a more just, more joyful future for all Cubans.
Asi somos los guatemaltecos
The other day a guy named David Salazar, a Twitter acquaintance from Guatemala, sent me a link to this week’s Sunday magazine from Prensa Libre, one of Guatemala’s major newspapers. This issue of the magazine is called “Así somos los guatemaltecos” which roughly translates “This is who we are as Guatemalans.” Basically, it’s a study of Guatemalans’ attitudes and self-perceptions, covering a whole range of topics including education, economy, technology, government, and various social ills.
All of it is interesting and important, but I was particularly fascinated with the section on religious trends in the country, especially given my recent post about Christian citizenship in the country following the war.The authors editorialize a bit on the value of religion in Guatemala. Here’s my rough translation:
It’s not enough to profess a belief if one does not adhere to the principles of respect, help, love of family, and honesty, which result in a healthy and peaceful society. It does no good to attend church if it does not contribute to the eradication of the major ills of the country, like hunger, impunity, violence and corruption. It is important to practice a religion and to be spiritual, but these actions must be consistent with the precepts of good citizenship, which include valuing natural resources and life, searching for ways to contribute to the betterment of the community and, above all, respecting the beliefs of others.
While the majority of the population (48%) still adheres to Catholicism, the percentage of evangelicos (39%) continues to rise. Significantly, the study finds that the country remains overwhelmingly opposed to abortion, with 90% saying it should be illegal, and 95% of women saying so. There’s a brief overview on these trends and others, including quotes from leaders of the country’s three main religious entities: Roman Catholics, evangelicos, and the traditional Mayan religion. The Catholic spokesperson quoted is interestingly not the Archbishop of the country but Alvaro Ramazzini, bishop of San Marcos. In my writing on the indigenous opposition to mining in the highlands of Guatemala, I referred to him as one of the key leaders of the movement. This is what he had to say for this study on the role of religion in Guatemala:
There does not need to be separation between faith and life, and for the Christian it is fundamental to love God and neighbor, and that’s why I say: How can we say we’re Christians when we don’t do anything to love our neighbor in all aspects, and fight poverty, corruption and the insecurity that overwhelm us?
The magazine is all in Spanish, but here it is if you'd like to read it, or at least look at the charts and pictures.
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