Moral questions: What do Pat Robertson and Young Adults have in common?

David Brooks’ latest op-ed is getting a lot of attention. He is commenting on a study done by Christian Smith et al, Lost in Transition. Brooks writes:

Smith and company found an atmosphere of extreme moral individualism — of relativism and nonjudgmentalism. Again, this doesn’t mean that America’s young people are immoral. Far from it. But, Smith and company emphasize, they have not been given the resources — by schools, institutions and families — to cultivate their moral intuitions, to think more broadly about moral obligations, to check behaviors that may be degrading. In this way, the study says more about adult America than youthful America.

Adam J. Copeland ponders Brooks’ article and concludes:

I look forward to reading Smith’s book, but I’ll do so uneasily. When I somehow find the time to pick it up, I’ll do so with this question at the forefront of my mind: Is it that young adults truly have fewer moral resources with which to deal with moral questions than previous generations, or is it that today’s questions are so much more complex that young adults need more skills and understanding to just tread water in our consumeristic pluralized technologically-advanced globalized world?

After all, it’s much easier to teach and theologize that “murder is wrong” than it is to discuss unmanned drone strikes in remote border areas of Afghanistan/Pakistan during an unfunded “war on terror” lasting over ten years.

Christian Caryl writes about the use of drones and other robotics, how they are changing the nature of warfare, and the moral and ethical questions their current use and potential abilities raise. Particularly chilling is a first-hand account by a drone operator in Nevada of his experience targeting drones for use in Afghanistan:

Even though home and wife are just a few minutes’ drive down the road from his battle station, the peculiar detachment of drone warfare does not necessarily insulate Martin from his actions. Predator attacks are extraordinarily precise, but the violence of war can never be fully tamed, and the most gripping scenes in the book document Martin’s emotions on the occasions when innocent civilians wander under his crosshairs in the seconds just before his Hellfire missile arrives on target. Allied bomber pilots in World War II killed millions of civilians but rarely had occasion to experience the results on the ground. Drone operators work with far greater accuracy, but the irony of the technology is that its operators can see their accidental victims—two little boys and their shattered bikes, in one especially heartrending case Martin describes—in excruciating detail.

Jonathan D. Fitzgerald also considers Brooks’ article, uses it in class, and confirms Smith’s conclusion (and this is at a “Christian college”). Fitzgerald, like Brooks, blames this moral relativism on individualism, and sees the same among students identified as Evangelicals or raised in megachurches.

Christian Smith, author of the study, answers the question as well.

My experience is that most youth would like to understand and believe in moral realism—that real moral facts exist in the universe that are not merely human constructions—but nobody has taught them how that is possible, how all the pieces can fit together in an intellectually coherent way.

The problem may not be a failure of families, institutions, and culture. Moral reasoning in a complex, globalized world, is difficult.  I do think Copeland’s question is valid. I wonder whether earlier generations were better able to deal with a moral dilemma, or that they simply accepted rules as given and universal and given that the world, or the world they experienced was less complex, moral reasoning was easier. Distinguishing right from wrong is relatively simple when small communities, made up of relatives and friends, are providing the resources for moral reflection and the sanctions, too.

Unfortunately, it’s not just young adults who have difficulty with moral questions. Adults do as well, and so do so-called family values conservative Christian televangelists. Witness Pat Robertson. Here’s a takedown of his argument.

The Bearable Closeness of Being: Why Cities Create Community

This week, I’ve been thinking about one particular aspect of urban ministry that is frustrating and challenging, but also offers interesting opportunities. Among the issues raised in the discussion over the St. Francis house development (previous blog posts here and here) are increased noise, traffic, congestion, parking difficulties and vandalism. None of these is unique to the block on which the proposed development will be built. Urban churches deal with them every day and few are as affected by them as Grace Church. Three of the last four Sundays have seen parking restrictions and re-routed traffic on the streets around the church. We have had noise (and smells) from the Taste of Madison on September 4, and on September 11, in addition to the nightmare of the Ironman Triathlon, there were 9-11 services at the Capitol during our 8:00 service.

Still, the opportunities outweigh the challenges. In spite of the fact that people had incredible difficulty arriving for our 5:00 interfaith service on 9-11, there were around 150 people in attendance. All of that foot traffic around the square for Taste of Madison or the Triathlon is free publicity for our church and an opportunity to tell our story (at no monetary expense) to passers-by. Our courtyard garden is an important part of our mission, ministry, and outreach. I received a letter this week from a neighbor who praised its beauty and the hard work of our volunteer gardeners.

I was intrigued by an essay by Richard Krawiec that explores the community created in urban settings. He argues that our random or regular encounters with people in the city create a certain kind of community:

In the city, community is created when the clerk who knows your face lets you take the sandwich, trusting you’ll be back tomorrow to pay.  When the guy at the newspaper kiosk remembers your interest in the Red Sox and sums up last night’s game for you as he hands you the Boston Globe.  When the owner of the small café invites you in after he has closed and personally cooks you something to eat.

It is a set of interactions, human behaviours that have meaning and expectations between its members. Not just action, but actions based on shared expectations, values, beliefs and meanings between individuals.  Interdependent.

He contrasts that sort of community and those random encounters with suburbia. It is something I’ve noticed as well. We know our neighbors better in the year we’ve lived in our Madison home than we got to know in 5 years in a Greenville County subdivision. The complete essay is here: The Bearable Closeness of Being: Why Cities Create Community

There is a challenge that faces us, however. It is that many of our neighbors are students, who grew up in suburbia and may not realize that they are living in a community that includes people other than other students, and that living in such a community brings with it shared responsibility and some shared values. Each class needs to be educated about that, both by the university and by the larger community.

The Bearable Closeness of Being: Why Cities Create Community | Guest Blog, Scientific American Blog Network.

From an interview with Robert N. Bellah

Bellah’s new book, Religion in Human Evolution, is just out. I’ve linked to an earlier interview here.

This interview with Nathan Schneider is well-worth reading; full of insight and food for thought. But there are two quotations that I especially like:

The academic world is one of the few places where prejudice is supposed to be totally banned, and we’re politically correct on everything, but it’s still a place where you can attack religion out of utter, complete, bottomless ignorance and not be considered to have done anything wrong. It’s astounding to me to hear what some people can say with the assumption that everyone would agree with them, based on nothing whatsoever.

Schneider asked about “Sheilaism,” first identified in Habits of the Heart, the phenomenon that Americans increasingly create spiritual and religious meaning for themselves, without connecting to community of any sort. Here’s the interchange:

NS: An important part of your message has been the famous concern expressed in Habits of the Heart about “Sheilaism”—the kind of individualistic spirituality that you and your colleagues saw at work in the United States. Some have suggested recently, including your former student Harvey Cox, that some of these nontraditional spiritualities are finding a place in social and political life in a way that wasn’t quite recognized before. Is the way you think about new kinds of spiritualities evolving?

RB: I certainly think that so-called spirituality can have social and even political consequences. I’ve seen this among environmental activists, who often have some kind of eco-spirituality and who are very organizationally loose. They switch from one group to another, and if one group isn’t pure enough they go to another. And yet they spend a long period of their lives doing good work in a cause. In the end what I feel is most problematic about “I’m spiritual but not religious” is: what the hell are you going to tell your children? I’m allergic to the notion that so-called institutional religion—by which people mean organizations such as churches and synagogues—is bad. Institutions are very important and if you think you can get along without them, you’re putting yourself on the wrong line; you can’t.

NS: So your conclusions in Habits of the Heart stand?

RB: If you think about what has happened in American society, or even just today with what is going on with the Tea Party movement, Habits of the Heart was so right on. Radical individualism is even more evident today than when Habits was published twenty-five years ago. It describes the default mode of this deeply misguided society beautifully—horribly, but beautifully.

Bellah’s cautions concerning “radical individualism” are borne out in this article from USA today: “More Americans tailoring religion to fit their needs.”

 

 

Reflections on our Interfaith prayer service last night

To be honest, I’ve never been a big fan of interfaith worship. From my experience at Harvard Divinity School in the 1980s, it always seemed to reduce itself to the lowest common denominator or be an opportunity for progressive Christians to feel good about themselves for their inclusivity.

Still, when I began thinking about doing something interfaith for 9-11 this year, I thought it was important for religious people in Madison to make such a statement. Our city is well-advanced in its de-christianization, and by extension, its secularization. To offer an interfaith religious witness on this 10th anniversary was one way to remind people that knee-jerk anti-religious responses to terrorists claiming Islam as their warrant, and Christians using crusade language in support of a military response, were not the only religious options.

We live in a polarized society in which the differences among us, political, cultural, religious, are often stressed. But there is also a great deal that unites us–as human beings, as American citizens, and, yes, as people of faith. My goal was to offer a service that was an authentic witness to the diverse faiths that were represented, but that also expressed the faith we do share. Whatever any else might say to the contrary, Muslims, Christians, and Jews do worship the same God. We experience that God in very different ways, through different revelations and in different historical and cultural contexts. Perhaps those differences are due to human frailty; perhaps they a result of God’s infinite mystery.

We also share values–a desire for peace, for a shared common life, and for the possibility of living together in the midst of our diversity. To come together in that way is no small thing, given the histories that divide us–the wars we have fought, the violence, discrimination, and the Holocaust. In many parts of the world such violence between faiths is still a reality–witness the attack on the Israeli embassy in Egypt last week, and the Muslim-Christian violence in Nigeria.

We bore witness yesterday to the possibility of a different future–one in which violence is supplanted by peace and mutual understanding. But in a small way, we bore witness to another possibility–that the divisions in our culture and country that express themselves in language of great violence, may give way to a realization that in spite of our differences, there lies in our hearts, whatever our political views, a deeply-shared love of country, freedom, and democracy.

Our service made no headlines (in fact it took extraordinary effort for the local newspaper even to publish it in their calendar of events for 9-11) but there was a report on Wisconsin Public Radio. That can be found here. I suppose we were not flashy enough to be newsworthy.

Here’s video of an interfaith service held in Newark, NJ last night:

 

Images from 9-11-11 in Madison

It was a beautiful early fall day today, although temps were a bit warmer than they had been earlier in the week ( a high of 82, perhaps). Today was also the Ironman Triathlon. Like almost every other Sunday throughout the summer and fall, driving and parking downtown were adventures. I knew the triathlon began at 7:00, but knowing that it began away from our corner of Capitol Square, I imagined that the early service would be relatively free from noise. I was wrong. There was some sort of commemoration of 9-11 taking place at the Capitol. As I walked up to the church, I heard Copland’s Fanfare for the Common Man. There were speeches and bagpipes. Our service was accompanied by patriotic music; our recital of the creed drowned out by the flyover of a fighter jet. I preached on our memories of 9-11 and on forgiveness. That was the gospel, after all. My words seemed drowned out, at least symbolically, by all that was taking place at the Capitol.

Later, we had an Interfaith service. Jews, Muslims, and Christians came together at Grace to reflect on the past ten years, to mourn the dead, and pray for peace. The chant of Allahu Akhbar reverbated from the walls and ceiling of Grace.

I was grateful to all those who participated and all those, 150 or so, who attended. Coming to the service was a challenge because of the race; several people told me it took them an hour to get across town. Organizing it took a great deal of time and energy, but those of us who attended, and those of us participated thought it was well worth the effort. We prayed and remembered and could hear the loudspeaker shouting out race finishers from the other side of Capitol Square. And we made some connections, across denominations, and across religious traditions, connections that might deepen interfaith cooperation and understanding in this very secular city.

That juxtaposition was itself meaningful. It reminded us that life goes on; that, perhaps, we have been taking all of this 9-11 stuff too seriously (but on the other hand, who takes anything more seriously than a tri-athlete?).

And then we came home. I had a couple of beers and grilled some hamburgers.

And tomorrow? Tomorrow promises a full slate of meetings, and emails, and conversations, and getting ready for next Sunday. Life goes on.

 

 

Forgiveness Unbounded–A Sermon for Proper 19, Year A, September 11, 2011

 

Proper 19, Yr A

September 11, 2011

Grace Episcopal Church

 

Where were you on September 11, 2001? What were you doing when you heard the news of the airplanes flying into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon? What has been going through your mind these past weeks as the 10th anniversary has edged ever closer, and now is here? Continue reading

The Vultures will be circling! The ABC to step down?

Tomorrow’s Telegraph will run the story, predicting that Archbishop Rowan Williams will resign next year, after the legislation to permit women bishops passes General Synod. He would be required to retire at 70, and he’s only 61.

No doubt many Episcopalians will be glad to see him go, but they should remember the joy with which many of us greeted his elevation. We should also remember that with a Tory government in power, the possibilities for his replacement might not be any more agreeable to us than Rowan was, and will definitely not be as gifted a theologian.

It’s said that he wants to return to academe and that Trinity College, Cambridge is preparing a chair for him. In other words, he may have decided to follow Bishop Neil Alexander’s example–the Bishop of Atlanta announced his resignation to take up a teaching post at Candler School of Theology.

In the category of: movie stars’ poor judgment

Mel Gibson is making a movie based on the story of Judah Maccabee, which is the historical background for the Jewish celebration of Chanukah. Given the furor over the portrayal of Jews in The Passion of the Christ and his anti-semitic tirades, what can he be thinking? Let Christopher Hitchens remind us of Gibson’s attitudes.

The Tempest

We saw a wonderful performance of Shakespeare’s The Tempest at American Players Theatre last night. The play’s an old favorite of mine and we used it regularly back when I was teaching in interdisciplinary humanities programs at Sewanee and Furman. It works well in that interdisciplinary context because it touches on so many themes that are important for developments in Early Modern Europe. It also touches on themes I often highlight on this blog, particularly questions of human nature. A review of APT’s production by Terry Teachout is here. He was particularly taken with the musical score by Joshua Schmidt.

I’m intrigued by the different ways I encounter the same work of art over the years. With a play as rich as The Tempest, it’s not surprising that we hear and see new things with each new reading or production. Last night, however, what affected me most was this exchange between Ariel and Prospero (Act V, scene i):

PROSPERO

I did say so,
When first I raised the tempest. Say, my spirit,
How fares the king and’s followers?

ARIEL

Confined together
In the same fashion as you gave in charge,
Just as you left them; all prisoners, sir,
In the line-grove which weather-fends your cell;
They cannot budge till your release. The king,
His brother and yours, abide all three distracted
And the remainder mourning over them,
Brimful of sorrow and dismay; but chiefly
Him that you term’d, sir, ‘The good old lord Gonzalo;’
His tears run down his beard, like winter’s drops
From eaves of reeds. Your charm so strongly works ’em
That if you now beheld them, your affections
Would become tender.

PROSPERO

Dost thou think so, spirit?

ARIEL

Mine would, sir, were I human.

PROSPERO

And mine shall.
Hast thou, which art but air, a touch, a feeling
Of their afflictions, and shall not myself,
One of their kind, that relish all as sharply,
Passion as they, be kindlier moved than thou art?
Though with their high wrongs I am struck to the quick,
Yet with my nobler reason ‘gaitist my fury
Do I take part: the rarer action is
In virtue than in vengeance: they being penitent,
The sole drift of my purpose doth extend
Not a frown further. Go release them, Ariel:
My charms I’ll break, their senses I’ll restore,
And they shall be themselves.

It touches on vengeance and humanity, especially as Ariel wonders why Prospero cannot be compassionate toward those he has imprisoned when Ariel says that their plight would move him to pity, if he had the feelings of a human.

As we think about 9-11, Shakespeare challenges us to think about how our human nature requires more of us than demands for revenge.

Update on St. Francis House

 

In response to concerns from the neighbors of St. Francis House, the developers have revised their proposal to include an 8-story rather than 14-story tower. The proposal is now working its way back through the approval process. This week, the Urban Design Commission gave its go ahead subject to some minor alterations. The next important meetings are the Plan Commission on September 19 and the Common Council meeting on September 20. Bishop Miller has written a letter to all of the Madison-area Episcopal parishes, urging members to write letters to members of the Plan Commission and City Alders.

As I have said before, this project is an important step in the revitalization of Episcopal Campus Ministry for the 21st century.  The development itself will provide the revenue stream necessary to fund that ministry. But this is not just about money. I am most excited about plans for the ministry and especially for the future of St. Francis House itself. The developers’ architects will be using the original plans for the chapel as they design a renovation of the original chapel for worship. This will restore the chapel’s aesthetic integrity and create (or re-create) a beautiful worship space for the use of the ministry.. More information about the proposed development is available on the St. Andrew’s website.

Earlier discussion of the development is here.