Church as Embedded Distinction
Being the Church in a Violent World
"The first task of the church is not to make the world more just but to make the world the world. [Such a thought] draws on the Gospel of John. You don’t know that there is something out there called the world unless there is an alternative to that, and that’s called church. So the fact that there is a gathered body of people around the world that are interconnected through the Holy Spirit creates an alternative that is named world.
"Now world is God’s good creation, that has taken the time of God’s grace not to be church. That doesn’t mean everything about the world is wrong, but it does mean that the world simply lacks the possibilities that the church has been given by God’s good grace. And that’s an eschatological set of judgments about why it is that God has called out a people from the world to be for the world, so that the world might know what it means to worship God."
-Stanley Hauerwas
Another shooting. Another news headline of innocent people, children, for crying out loud, gunned down. Another trip around the outrage cycle as disbelief, grief, and exasperation find ways to be released/expressed/placated. What are we to do?
The social media feeds are filled with suggestions. And, amid all the reductionism and avoidance, there are glimmers of truth. Laws need to protect people. And, yes, robust policy alone will not unbury us from this political death we call American politics. And, as is customary for a mediating theologian, I find myself on both sides. I strongly believe we should outlaw assault weapons, but I’m acutely aware that lawbreakers will always break laws. I’m also aware that if tragedy likes this were to come to my community, I would be on the side demanding change. I’m a hypocrite, but I’m attempting to be a compassionate one.
Scripture would call me to lament. I don’t do it well. Lament seems far too passive, but it doesn’t need to be. Lament recognizes powerlessness, but it also marshalls what few reserves we actually have. The paradox of lament is that only God can repair the savage brokenness of our society. And God has given us his Spirit to be the change we want to see. I am simultaneously powerless and empowered when I declare, “The world is a broken place.”
This righteous anger that rises up as we confront our brokenness can be a good thing. But let us never allow our critique of the world to be but a scapegoat for our culpability. There is no objective "me" separated from "them." Such perspectives do not take the systemic nature of sin seriously enough.
As a lover of the church, I must challenge those of her body who use their religious perspectives as an ultimate trump (no pun intended) card on world events. How do we expect to challenge the divisiveness of the world when we remain just as divided as it is? The stunted imagination of the world always leads to violence. Compromise, conversation, and compassion take deeper commitments than the knee-jerk responses were accustomed to. The church is equipped by the Spirit to have sanctified imaginations to bear witness to alternative possibilities. You’ll first need to stop looking to Donald Trump or Joe Biden to fulfill the messianic hope that is ours in Christ Jesus.
These critical framework conversations rarely seem to happen in our society or the church. The former is excusable, the world is not the church. The latter is sinful, the church is failing to reveal a credible alternative. Maybe it's because we have not distinguished these realms enough in our heads and hearts. The church must be about creating an alternative to the world. This means we can never have a naive appreciation for social progress, even when that progress is law. Laws are broken, and the failure of imagination still remains. Would an alternative community have stopped a Nashville shooter? I cannot answer that question fully. But, what I do know is that an alternative community could help a society built on anger, warfare, and vindictiveness to express their deep lament in formative ways instead of the quick release valve of violence.
But we need to allow the Spirit to convict us before we point fingers. It is a Christendom posture that assumes that A) we can imperialistically go into the world announcing what is good for it all while B) not acknowledging that we are a part of the original problem. Such objectivity (to sound a little postmodern) is untenable. The church in America does not exist as a wholly separate other. Rather, we exist as an embedded distinction. We show up everywhere that non-Christians do, and our presence is to be peculiar and winsome.
But what is distinct about the American church from larger American society? It seems that if it isn’t about sex, then we don’t have much to offer. Maybe Christians could commit to not kill one another? Stay together? Bring hope to their respective workplaces? Not kill their young and old?
At the end of the day, you and I can wax philosophically on social media about what Jesus would or wouldn't do, but we have not modeled a great deal of difference. Be careful when Jesus calls out the same issues and leaders again and again, you may be a tad guilty of scapegoating.
So what would I do differently? I humbly present a few ideas for moving forward:
The first task of the church is to be the church and let the world be the world. How might your utopian vision be realized in the people of God? Don't start big church but start with local congregation. Are you as united there as you would like the world to be? The kingdom is not of this world. It is not the church, and it’s not a world government. When brokenness occurs, our response cannot be to attempt to make an earthly institution into the kingdom (or speak disparagingly because it is not the kingdom).
Truly lament. Recognize your culpability with the brokenness of the world. There is great injustice in the world. You and I are part of it. It does not exist separated from our spending habits, lifestyle choices, and constant quest for security.
Allow vitriol to be converted into virtue. Vitriol leads to outrage which leads to violence. Violence continues to blind us to any sort of real solutions. Virtue flows from a place of inner transformation. Transformation occurs with an experience of Christ. Vitriol will never lead to the fruit of the Spirit. Transformation allows the Spirit to produce such fruit; we become a people of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Gal. 5:22-23).
Very practical: before you call out a person on social media (whether you know them or not), how would you feel with such words and that tone being directed at you? Would it move you to change?
I don't claim to have the answers. I don't claim to be absolved from the vitriol of the world. I lament the loss of life, and I’m angered that it occurs so regularly. We can do better, and we must do better. But that better will not come apart from my humility to acknowledge that I don’t fully know how best to respond. I lean into the church, because only through her life do I find a vision of something more beautiful and uniting than the discord of my country.
I long for alternatives, and I still pray that the church can be in the world and not of it. I believe our embedded distinctiveness creates spaces for conversations of hopeful change to occur. Our churches could be places to challenge their faithful to repent of their violence and choose the costly, peaceful way of Jesus. Nothing says Jesus like sacrificing oneself for the world. Instead of watching innocents be assassinated, let us live sacrificially so that the deepest needs of the world are met in our fellowships.
I want to be like the great G.K. Chesterton who, when The Times of London invited several eminent authors to write essays on the theme "What's Wrong with the World?," wrote the following letter:
Dear Sirs,
I am.
Sincerely yours,
G. K. Chesterton
Actually, I'll take my first step in emulating Chesterton right now:
Dear blog readers,
I am.
Sincerely yours,
J. S. Barnhart