Multiculturalism: The Bulwark of Tradition

It's Christmas time again. Time to complain about how much "Traditional American" culture is gone away, and how those evil PC people have renamed Christmas "Holidays" and renamed a green piney-thingy the "Holiday tree." It seems to me a rather silly contraversy -- the White House still has a Christmas tree, and the "Holiday tree" was on its way to becoming a tradition in its own right -- but I think it has a fundamental root in reality.

More and more, "everyday" people feel like their ability to freely and enthuiastically celebrate a common culture is threatened by a blanket of bland inoffensiveness. GKC talked of people of his times who called "an all-consuming hatred of Christianity" an "all-embracing love of all religions," but I think that the current round of controversy has nothing to do with Christianity. Christmas trees started out as inoffensively Christian (at least in one popular form of the legend) -- a way for Martin Luther to recapture the beauty of God's stars shining through God's trees. It may also have started with some pagan holiday or another -- that's certainly true of most "Christian" holidays. In any case, Christmas trees are now purely secular -- a place for Santa to put more material goods for the lucky kids of America.

Not that this is a bad thing -- such cultural celebrations, even when so tainted by something as insiduous as greed, bring us together and give us chances to reflect on what values we do hold. Even the gift-giving itself (almost certainly pre-Christian in origin) can be seen as about the spirit of giving, rather than that of getting. "For everything that is created by God is good, and nothing is to be rejected if it is recieved with gratitude, for it is sanctified by means of the Word of God and of prayer." (1 Tim. 4:3-5) I think that Christmas, though not directly of God, would fall under that general principle.

All of which goes to say -- Christmas is good, and national holiday celebrations are a limited good. It still doesn't change the fact that Christmas is under attack.

And here, in one sentence, is why: America has become less multicultural.

Such a comment may seem strange, especially given America's long history of heavy-handed attempts to destroy nondominant cultures, but I believe that it is the case. In fact, I would go further to say that the current "multiculturalism" movement is a reaction, not against the sins of our fathers, but against the machines of this age.

Here's why:

America once was a nation of immigrants. Despite the fact that they fled their fatherlands in order to seek a new life in America, they kept their native culture, at least for a couple of generations. The mainstream often bore unbridled racism against these immigrants, be they Jewish or Irish or Mexican. But the response that brough success -- the response, one could say, that made America great -- was one that would be called racism today. It was a conviction in individual's hearts that they were better than all these Americans who have had everything handed to them on a spoon because they were Jewish or Irish or Mexican. It was a conviction that they could band together as a group, and work together to make America better than it ever was, because it could be their America, too, and an America with their "superior" race was far better than an America without it.

Is it any wonder, then, that statistics constantly demonstrated that immigrants tended more strongly to represent the American values of hard work and family than native-born citizens? Such an emphasis, however expressed, has been the bedrock of any successful culture, at least until it became "sophisticated" enough to follow the path of Nero.

More tellingly, is it any wonder that African-Americans only began to make strides towards civil rights when the "black pride" and "black is beautiful" movements arose? Or that the currently chosen phrase, which arose out of that movement, carefully and clearly states the dual-allegiance inherent in all successfully "homogenized" immigrant groups?

The problem is that now, more than ever, immigrants who come to America are forced to leave behind their culture. Their children may be able to absorb American culture, but with a dwindling number of traditional cultures in America, they absorb a much more bland, uninteresting cultural hegenomy. Immigrants once were reviled for their race, and fought proudly as a group to be better Americans than those lazy chauvenists born with a spoon in their mouth. Now immigrants fly over individually, and even though the cultural is moderately more "inclusive," they find that in a vacuum they can't remember what cultural distinctives they had to offer, or what they're supposed to do over here other than the time-honored process of earning money to pay for relatives' immigration. America grows in size, but even as its population gets more multicolored, its cultural traditions seem to be fading away.

But there's a further problem -- we are all now strangers, and the number of cultures we touch daily is multiplied infinitely. If we can't know who our neighbors and co-workers are, then we live in fear that some action or comment might offend them. It seems that, more and more, the way to "get by" is to simply forget that you have any culture or traditions, except perhaps those that directly aid in working "longer, harder, and smarter." To be American is to eat at McDonalds, live in a neighborhood of houses identical to your own, and ship your kids out to day-care.

All of which is to serve as a reminder of the twin secular bulwarks of culture, family, and sanity -- tradition and immigrant cultures. True multiculturalism and the American dream are natural-born soulmates, yet they so often seem pitted against each other. Those "liberals" who speak of "attacking the dominant culture" most likely are just setting up the next-in-line culture for a similar fall; those conservatives who want to "close the borders" and wall in "traditional America" ought to look at what gave "traditional America" its wealth of tradition.

Of course, all of that is to say that I'm thankful as can be for Thanksgiving, that traditional holiday that is all about multicultural cooperation, immigration, the family -- heck, even the neotraditional American ideal of overconsumption (hmm...the political term "neocon" begins to make more sense...).

Of course, the holiday ain't perfect, but neither was Plymouth. In both cases it's a miracle that anything works. Hence the thanks.

Two Initial Thoughts on Walk the Line

1) There is a scene, early on, when Johnny Cash is auditioning for a record label, playing standard Gospel songs in the standard Gospel manner. The label owner tells him that his music is commercially unviable, because its old and "people want to hear you sing a song that you really believe in." His requirement was that the music contained passion, honesty, and innovation, and Cash developed to excel in all three categories (which was good, because he never really had much mechanical skill.)

My question was: "When did record companies change their mind?" Alan said that it was basically when The Beatles became stars, and somehow demonstrated that branding can be more important than quality. That, plus the fact that studios became big enough to shape and form markets (by dictating what artists people hear of, for example), rather than merely fill them.

It's sad to see how the same studios responsible for Brittany Spears were started with love and care, dedicated to innovation and artistic integrity. Of course, good art is a gift and certainly not something we deserve, so it is wonderful to see how studios helped to nurture talent, and I can't wait for the undeserved pleasure of owning and repeatedly listening to Live at Folsom Prison.

2) Speaking of the above, there is one great line. I can't remember the dialogue entirely correctly, but it goes something like this:

"Your audience is good Church-going Christian folk. They don't want to hear you singing songs to make rapists and murderers feel better."

"Then they aren't Christians."

I don't really see how so many people can claim that Walk the Line ignored the religious and specificially Christian side of Cash's life. I mean, he's clearly a sinner, and the movie takes great pains to show how he "hurt everyone that I've known" with his sin. His return from drug addiction ends with an exquisit shot of him returning through the doors of a Southern Baptist church. Are Christians (and Americans) really so stupid that they need to have things beat into their head with the ugliest stick possible?

One thing's clear: Walk the Line certainly does a lot better job of pointing out just what is so important about grace than the bland praise song of joy Cash wasn't able to "believe in" during his first audition. Or the modern book series Left Behind, for that matter. Not because it's a sermon, but because it is honest, and it is about the life of a Christian who excelled at, like Paul, seeing himself as the chief of sinners.

Even if the Christian was one who didn't follow his own advice that "this is being recorded ... so we shouldn't be using any words like 'damn' or 'shit' or 'hell' or anything."

Christianity, Philosophy, Theology

I just saw The Interpreter today, and it has brought up some rather interesting thoughts. Especially since I have been thinking about my own writings as of late.

The movie (spoiler warning!) serves as a basic morality tale, and its moral is rather simple - "vengence is a lazy form of grief." The protagonist overhears a plot to assassinate the dictator. She then spends the entire movie trying to reconcile her belief that the only way to recover from a murder is to forgive the murderer, rather than seeking vengence. By the end of her movie, the list of the dictator's victims include not only the interpreter's parents and sister, but (later) her brother, her lover, and the one man who was able to keep her in touch with her native country. So, of course, by the end of the movie, she has the dictator at gunpoint, and a choice between vengence and peace.

In the film, she makes the decision to forgo vengence, (possibly) partially because of the need of her protector to have an example of someone who can refuse vengence. It's a good ending, and the only real ending to make the point, but as a Christian who really feels a need to write fiction, I couldn't help but write two alternative endings.

The first one would be the most autobiographal ending. She pulls the trigger, and murders the dictator. She is plagued by guilt, and eventually is converted to Christianity, meaning that in addition to the obvious knowledge that she's a sinner (she blew the guys brains out!), she gains the knowledge that she can be saved not by her works, but through the grace of the God who humbled himself to become a man in Jesus, and even to die like a criminal and thus conquor death. She would then turn to God without being perfect, and live the rest of her life in a hopeful struggle against sin -- a struggle where God is on her side, and where truly damnable sins are truly forgiven.

But there's a not-so-fun ending.

She doesn't pull the trigger. She isn't a Christian.
She walks outside and is run over by a bus.

As an artist, I can't imagine myself writing that ending, despite the fact that as a Christian I believe utterly that people do go to Hell. I believe that while we are broken, flawed, and corrupt, there are Stories that appeal to us on a fundamental level, and that those Stories do so because they tell of what ought to be, the "eternity" that God "has written in the hearts of men, so that they are [in their sins] without excuse." So why is hell excluded?

Now, to Get to the Title

Preaching forgiveness to obvious sinners feels right. It's what Christ seems to have done, even going to the point of dismissively saying that "I have come not for the healthy, but for the sick." Pure religion before the Lord is to "care for orphans and widows, and keep oneself unstained from the world." And, of course, the Christian ought to above all things remember that we are "beggars," that our virtue is "filthy rags," that we are no better than any of the worst sinners, save for the grace of God. I may not always show Christ's love, or care for those less fortunate, or remain unstained from any number of sins -- but I am certainly a good enough sinner to remember Christ's grace, and turn as a result in praise to God. That, I suppose, is Christianity.

However, there's another component of Christianity -- revealed Truth. It isn't an accident that even the Son of God spent many years impressing everyone with his immense grasp of Scriptures, and growing in wisdom as a human. It also isn't an accident that a significant part of the New Testament is comprised of writings describing the central doctrines of what should be taught in the Church, and that a significant element of Church history has involved responses to heretics that counter the various "false doctrines" that are, indeed, quite dangerous to one's soul. That, for this article at least, is Theology.

But as far back as I can remember, I have been passionately devoted to the cause of understanding. I wanted to know how the Space Shuttles managed to do the impossible and leave even the great confines of Earth; I wanted to know why one didn't, and what went wrong when I saw Challenger explode on live television. I wanted to know why I enjoy certain stories and not others; I grew to want to find out why people enjoy stories that I don't, and if I can learn to enjoy those, too. Above all, as a Christian I've wanted to understand both why and how I ought to serve God; I've also wanted to understand Who this God is who deserves my absolute service. And, with the caveat that "as far as the heavens are above the earth, so My thoughts are above your thoughts, says the Lord," I believe that a desire to understand Christianity is not wholly in vain. Solomon was once described as a man "half after God's heart," but I don't believe that Proverbs or Ecclesiastes represents the half that didn't follow God. That is Philosophy.

Which brings me back to the original problem. If I write a story of man's sinfulness and God's forgiveness, everything harmonizes and works together. But stories of a Hell for people whose deeds are better than mine aren't so comfortable, and don't feel so Christ-like. I feel that some Calvinists seem to look at those stories and say "ain't it neat! See how everything, even those damned vessels, glorifies God." But as a broken vessel myself, I can't see how it glorifies God to choose some to die, and some to live, seemingly by the lottery of the culture they were born into. But as Job demonstrates, we never see the full decision-making process of God, and in fact we can't.

So I guess, until He shows me otherwise, I'll keep telling Christians to remember that everyone's a sinner (including themselves), and when I'm talking to non-Christians I'll just tell them that I'm a sinner saved by the grace of God, and that they can likewise recieve God's grace. And if an atheist asks me about his loving mother who wasn't a Christian and is now dead, I'll just shuffle my feet awkwardly and feel sad. Who knows, maybe that's supposed to be a part of being unified with the divine "man of sorrows," who was "well acquainted with suffering."

On the Disobedience of Christ: A Confession of Hope

(The following was first posted in response to a Xanga posting by CabraEnano.)

1) I am a very sick person, and a sinner. Even as a Christian my hope is in God, not myself. Yes, I am saved for obedience to God, but I've often been confused about what that is.

2) One of the wonderful things about Jesus' tirades against the Pharisees is that he points out that it is possible to put people under a weight of obligation beyond what God has commanded (and that, indeed, the pharisees have done so.) He never says that the whores and tax collectors shouldn't repent, but there is another extreme that is even more damaging -- that of striving to be someone who always APPEARS right, and who follows limitations beyond God's simple commands because that makes him feel more righteous than others.

3) I feel that that has happened to me with my history in the Church. Very severely. Mainly with "rededicating" myself to God (a heretical concept) and calls to "go beyond" music in worship to the "heart of worship" that is all about some special instant where I choose to unite myself with God.

4) I feel I would be wrong to not point out what I see as heretical. Especially in a Church that honors Luther for saying "here must I stand" when the Catholic Church (the obvious bearers of the Gospel) set up for the people false rules and regulations for how to go to Heaven. I don't see much of a difference between "if you just give your money to the Lord's work as a sign of your faith in Him, we'll give you an indulgence that guarantees you a spot in heaven" and "if you just commit now, right now, and pledge to follow God by [reading your Bible every day/preaching to X people per week/etc.], then God will bless you and you will feel at peace." In either case, the Church seems to be telling me that I can do something that isn't specificially commanded in Scriptures, and as a result of that I'll be assured of specific rewards from God.

5) One of my recurring sins is bitterness towards the Church. When one has felt that two false "sins" (his inability to emotionally transcend worship music, and his inability to keep those rash promises he made when the music was praying and a guy was screaming with religious fervor) must mean that he is without the power of the Holy Spirit and thus unsaved, and when those thoughts lead to weeks of longing for death in order to escape the millstone of that inability to give anything of worth back to God no matter how hard he tries -- then I suppose such bitterness is at least psychologically explainable.
But it's still a sin. Especially since it tends to make me want to condemn anyone who (rightfully) has given up something that is itself good for the greater cause of Christ. Which puts me in the exact same category of those I am embittered against.

In Conclusion: How than shall I live? For me, an excellent role-model has been G. K. Chesterton -- a man whose writings and life often ignored cultural norms and false regulations of man, and through them discovered the joys of Christian virtue. Rich Mullins, who cursed and chain-smoked, and whose music demonstrated a passion for Christ above all things throughout the many seasons of his too-short life. Will Kroll, who Freshman year had purple hair, who had a penchant for talking in such a free manner that sometimes his jokes were rather shocking, and who always seemed to live life in a manner that required prayer and submission to God as a prerequisite, and resulted in a light heart and a willingness to show love to everyone.

I could give many more examples (these are representative), but the point is this -- I do not believe that what I was attracted to was merely sin with an aura of Christianity. I think that what I was attracted to was a Christianity that often shockingly cast off the expectations of culture for what a "respectable" person did, but that sought to be mastered by God's law. All of those people studied the Bible as a divine document inspired directly by God, but (with the exception of Rich when he was VERY young) none quoted Scriptures nearly as elaborately as they studied them. For they remembered the central element of Scriptures -- "the Word became flesh, and made his dwelling among us, and we have seen the glory of the one and only."

And that's why, when I am closest to God, I can still enjoy being a rogue and a pirate, and at times purposefully flaunting the customs of Man. And, through God's grace, I have faith that He shall make me a slave to His Laws, so that even in my chaos I can keep myself unstained in the slavery of all sin -- especially (for me) the bitterness, arrogance, and deadly confusion of "free thought."

Even More Prop. 2 -- response to Xanga comments

Socrates:
That's exactly why I would vote AGAINST a proposition making gay marriage legal. But, if I am correct, the state of Texas doesn't allow gay marriages in the first place.

As far as homosexuals being oppressed -- I would absolutely say that they are not being oppressed by any laws. Point taken.

Now, as far as your comment "you can behave however you want but don't expect society to affirm and support what the vast majority of Americans believe is immoral." A much better (and probably convincing) point. Although, it would be nice if we had a definition for "vast majority of Americans." It also makes today's vote a rearguard action.

Which, I guess is the main deal. Today's decision is just pyrotechnics. The average Christian family considers divorce normative, even if a bad idea. (And I think everyone thinks divorce is a bad idea.) Homosexuality seems to be heading the same direction, and Christians' attempts to boycott television, Disney, etc. haven't really done much of anything.

Right now, I just don't see putting any more energy into thinking about Proposition 2. I don't want to single out homosexuality as the cause of the demise of the family, because it is an effect. I believe the church should condemn homosexuality. As for the government -- well, I'm just tired.

If only they had added the phrase "lifelong" in relation to marriage, I would've voted as soon as the polls open, even if I had to miss class to do it.

But if they'd added the word "lifelong," I suppose it would've never gotten past the senate. So Christians now condemn all sins it is politically expedient to condemn in their locality.

More Thoughts on Prop. 2

1) The question is not "is homosexuality wrong." The question is also "to what extent ought the Church to deputize the State." I don't think any Protestant wants lying to be a punishable offense, and I don't think many want the death penalty for rebellious children. I think most Protestants consider Christ's New Covenant to be one of personal calling to Christ according to the rules set by Scriptures, not the New Legal System of the Government.

2) If we are deputizing the state against sexual sins, why has there not been an amendment making divorce far more difficult? I mean, the Church knows more about divorce than those outside of it (and from personal experience, too!) Why not start by instituting reforms against the sins that the Church is most familiar with? Or are we not concerned about sexual sins, so much as about the sexual sins that aren't common in the Southern Baptist Convention?

3) Even though sexual sins are of vital importance to believers (and even nonbelievers, though the Scriptures don't focus so much on that) as "sins committed inside your body," should that be the first place the Church decides to deputize the government to do its work? Esp. in a state such as Texas, which gives NO support to those with Downs Syndrome, for instance.

Feeding the hungry, clothing the naked, caring for widows and children, etc. -- these seem much more broad-reaching commands than "preaching morality to the world." In fact, the only time I see morality really preached to nonchristians in scriptures, it is only to point out the fact that they are all sinners. It is Christians who we are to judge (and even then, "not I, but Scriptures.") (I could be wrong here, and would love to look up any examples you have to give.)

-- I know I don't have to support a whole party to support a single proposition, but at the same time I just am very leary of this particular emphasis among Christians on homosexuality. It seems part of the impulse to condemn only those sinners about which they can easily say, "I never was, nor ever wanted to be, one of those buggering unpatriotic liberal pinkos."

Give me a proposition prohibiting divorce in all nonabusive cases, and I'll sign it in a heartbeat. Give me a proposition to outlaw abortions and protect innocent lives, and I'll join your bandwagon. But give me a proposition that tries to limit the effects of sin on nonchristians by restricting sins the Church doesn't tend towards, and I begin to get just a little bit hesitant.....

Vote yes on Proposition 2, Texan Christians, and Support the Republican Party Always!

Because Jesus beat sinners with whips and loved moneychangers unconditionally.

Actually, I'm far more undecided than it sounds like, and would like more arguments. But please, please, if you don't want me to vote against prop. 2, don't tell me that homosexuality is the greatest threat to the family unless you can back it with statistics. And tell me why we haven't first made an amendment that makes divorce more difficult.