10/13/2024. Theocracy and the Constitution: two stories.

Pilgrimage: 2024

The God that holds you over the pit of hell, much as one holds a spider, or some loathsome insect, over the fire, abhors you, and is dreadfully provoked: his wrath towards you burns like fire; he looks upon you as worthy of nothing else, but to be cast into the fire; he is of purer eyes than to bear to have you in his sight; you are ten thousand times more abominable in his eyes, than the most hateful and venomous serpent is in ours.

--- Johnathan Edwards (1703-1758), “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God”

Two grand narratives have been at war in the United States since its inception. One is the central tenet of Christian Theology: The Biblical narrative of man’s fall from grace, which in turn is the reason God sent Christ to the world: to redeem us from our fallen state. The other grand narrative, one that emerged from Modernity, and is a legacy of intellectual thought, is that humans possess the inherent conscience, intelligence, and creativity to successfully negotiate the challenges of existence---on their own. The Biblical narrative is also a narrative 1) of dependence, in that it appeals to a higher authority for purpose and meaning; 2) the Biblical narrative deems itself infallible; and 3) it is a narrative of self-and-other loathing, as it views oneself and one’s neighbors, by various degrees, corrupted, if not evil, due to our fall from grace. The modern narrative, on the other hand, due to its faith in human potential; that is, our reasoning abilities, prodigious creativity, and our inherent moral conscience, is therefore, 1) a narrative that encourages both individual and collective rights and freedoms; 2) fallible though experiment and debate; and 3) the basis of the Constitution of the United States, as it places the responsibility for creating “a more perfect union” in the hands of human beings, rather than a supernatural authority.

And I posit that America's frantic, self-destructive momentum today is shaped by the Bible’s deeply dysfunctional story of humanity. Humans can be good or bad, of course, but the central tenet of Christian theology informs us that we are bad, and, frustratingly, through no fault of our own. The central claim of the Bible, the entire basis of Christian theology: that is, that humanity is guilty for the simple sin of being born human, worms it way through history over centuries and resides in culture as a deeply subliminal source of perpetual anxiety and conflict.[1] The logical extreme of this theology manifests in the authoritarianism of Christian Nationalism. Christian Nationalists see evil lurking in every human heart—a clear projection of their own fears and anxieties. In their view the “other” must be controlled, and if they cannot be controlled, the other must be punished until they are controlled. Might Makes Right, claims the fascist. This dark view of human nature is not just sad and sick, it is dangerous, and consequently, with the rise of Christian Nationalism, it could lead America to abandon democracy in favor of theocratic authoritarianism.

Authoritarianism's appeal is that it shifts the demands of personal agency over to a particular authority. “Only I can fix it!” declares, Mr. Trump. It is easier to obey than assume responsibility for one's own actions. Theocracy is therefore born, and with it, as any credible historians will tell you, theocracy’s inevitable horrors (see current Iran or Afghanistan, for two of many examples). The Founders were witness to the oppression and exploitation of kings, various popes and potentates, and other authoritarian figures, and created, though flawed, yet in principle, a document intended to liberate the great potential of human abilities. The Constitution, and by inference America, is the inspiring story of life and life’s possibilities; to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. The Constitution represents a strong faith in, and commitment to, the human spirit. To the extent America fulfilled the Constitution’s principles and values (clearly, not always the case), America flourished. To the extent America succumbed to voices that stir anger and suspicion of the “other,” that reject reason and imagination, that embrace willful ignorance, and submit to superstition and fantasy, we have (ironically) truly fallen from the great gift and grace of being human.  

You're thinking: “But I do not loathe myself or my neighbor!” Yet, I would wager that you would agree that a person who steals a car, for example, is guilty of a crime, and incarceration is a reasonable option as a form of punishment. Steal a car, go to jail. Simple. But I would ask the reader to take a moment and reflect on why anyone would believe that this is a reasonable solution to the problem? Science suggests that individuals who bring harm to others (from simple theft to mass murder) do so for two general reasons: 1) they suffered (or are suffering from) physical, emotional, psychological, or societal abuse; or, 2) they do so due to abnormal brain chemistry, or suffer a damaged brain from disease or accident. Such individuals who harm others are not guilty, in fact, they are sick and suffering. Does it make sense to lock a sick and suffering person in a cage? Yet, incarnation, or even state sanctioned murder, is overwhelmingly considered the solution to crime. And I posit that this is because the story our culture has conditioned us to believe, over millennia; a story that lurks deep in our collective personality, like (to steal from Adam Smith) an invisible hand, guiding our collective view on human nature, and much else, is the Biblical story that people do harm, not because they are sick, and require healing, but because they are inherently bad people and require punishment. This is the Christian view of humanity as expressed in its text: that we are all suffering because we are bad and must deal with it. Of course, those who can't deal with it might get locked in a cage, or murdered by the state.

But wait, love and forgiveness, Jesus says. Yes, love the sinner, not the (original) sin.

[1] I anticipate that many Protestants reading this (of which there are numerous denominations) are scratching their heads and asking: “But what about New Testament, Jesus, love?” Answer: I think that it’s no small coincidence that Protestant Reformation's break from the Catholic church, and with it New Testament Jesus, love, etc., emerged in history along with the printing press, which over time led to the Enlightenment, the Age of Reason, and the Renaissance. In short, Jesus’s New Testament’s message of brotherly love runs concurrent with humanity’s growing knowledge of the world through science, self-reflection, and therefore self-awareness, through philosophy and the arts. However, the story of our intrinsic guilt, and the need for Christ to forgive us of our guilt, and to eventually redeem us upon His return, remains central to Christian theology by varying degrees regardless of the denomination.

Also: I’m sure that many readers scoff at my suggestion that the Biblical story has such a pervasive impact contemporary culture. But here’s an example of Christian theology’s impact on contemporary culture, that, though pervasive, we seldom consider: narrative plot. According to Christian metaphysics, history has a beginning, middle, and end. The end, the denouement, is represented in Christ’s return. (Judaism, and Islam, the other great Monotheisms, are as well historical and end with the return of a savior.) Overwhelmingly, the plot structure of every story, novel, essay, Hollywood blockbuster, written in the West, or influenced by the West, is derivative of this Christian metaphysics: history has a beginning, middle, and end. In contrast, Eastern literature, with rare exception, tends to be nonlinear. The novel in Japan emerging only later in the 18th century concurrent with increasing Western influence. In short, our individual and collective behavior is heavily influenced by the Grand Narratives of our culture, though we apparently seem oblivious of this.