The Ultimate Anarchist: Jesus?
May 10, 2011 1 Comment
I need to start this blog post with an apology: somewhere upon finishing my undergrad and moving back to Minnesota, I kind of fell off the blog-wagon. For that I am truly sorry. I have been wading through serious feelings of alone-ness and loss of purpose since being back in the Twin Cities and thus haven’t had much to write about (up until today of course, most likely because I visited the seminary where I am doing my MA, and got really, really excited to be around semi-like-minded individuals who share in the desire to explore God and the good life). So, I hope you—whoever you might be—accept my sincere apology for being a slacker.
And with that, let me say this: I have (un)officially decided to not vote anymore.
Let me unpack that a for you a bit. I have begun to explore the concept that to be a follower of Jesus is to be an anarchist within the nation-state for which I helplessly find myself bound to. Now, when I say anarchy I do not mean mass pandemonium and chaos, as so many people believe anarchy to be defined. Instead I call upon the Greek root of the word (ἀναρχίᾱ), which means very literally no-archy, or no one ruler.
Many may argue that to be a follower of the Way of Jesus is to bow down to his kingship. I believe this to be an antiquated, patriarchal way of viewing the Godhead. While kingly metaphor has Biblical legitimacy, you may know by now that I do not consider the Bible inerrant: it is a product of its time, its authors writing of their experiences with the Ones through their worldviews. The kingly references are of no exception to this. (A side note, ‘Ones’ is plural because I do not consider myself a monotheist but rather a trinitarian.)
‘Jesus as high-king’ is falling away from the reality that the person of Jesus came and was, quite frankly opposite of all things kingly, subverting and flipping what it was and is to be king on its head, making being king low as opposed to high and mighty. For it is through Jesus we are called friend, which is to live in equality with the Ones who love us for no good reason other than to simply love. Thus, I believe that anarchy, to live with no one ruler may be vitally important to our true fellowship with the Godhead, and in turn eachother. As we live in communal partnership, commitment and horizontal power infrastructures with the Godhead, so must we also live with one another, throwing out the vertical, hierarchical infrastructures in the same way Jesus did. Doing this calls us out of slavery and into community. It is transformational, and gives egalitarian power to all; power that doesn’t have to be scary and controlling, but rather inclusive and loving.
However, we must also consider this: “[So] give back to Caesar what is Caesar’s, and to God what is God’s.” As recorded in Matthew, it seems Jesus is saying we might live the seperation of what is God’s and what is the Empire’s. So how do we apply this to a theology of anarchy? I believe the answer (as if there is one) is to be both a realist and an idealist. It is to live within the system (realism) because, let’s be honest, there is scarce land anywhere in the world that is unclaimed and thus we cannot really get out of the ‘system’ and create our own little utopias as much as we might try. Yet, there is no need to bow down to the broken nation-states we uncontrollably find ourselves in (idealism). These ‘systems’ are not part of the communal Rule of the Godhead, nor do they concern themselves with the ever-breaking-in-communal-Rule (even if they say they do on the back of, for example, a US one dollar bill). This call to give to the Empire or God what is theirs cannot and should not stop anyone from being the voice of the idealist: the prophetess or prophet who points out and calls forth ones ability to be better, to change and to evolve from outside the walls of the ‘system.’
So the paradox is this: to be both the teacher (realist): the one who moderately and humbly listens and is evangelized to, while also being the prophetess or prophet (idealist): the one who radically speaks and evangelizes toward the communal Rule of the Godhead, calling forth ones ability to be better. In doing so we subvert our world through the sheer act of holy and confused love which, being given to us through the cosmic Christ gives us the ability to love for love’s sake. It is with this love of the Godhead and neighbor that we might consider removing ourselves from supporting the system that does, through its brokenness, oppress us all. While we may never be able to fully depart from said empire, is there not reason to, through the act of pacifist-anti-voting, challenge the system?
I was immediately caught by what you said here: “A side note, ‘Ones’ is plural because I do not consider myself a monotheist but rather a trinitarian.”
I’m surprised to here you state a theology of trinitarianism in opposition to a theology of monotheism. You may or may not be aware of the historical debates over the nature of God and the ancient creeds of the church. Declaring trinitarianism against monotheism is a departure from what has been considered the orthodox view of believers for the last 1700 years or so. Central to the creeds, particularly the Athanasian Creed is the understanding of God as both One and Three. It’s Trinitarian Monotheism, so to speak. I’m curious – how have you come about to separate the two?
Next, I find it hard to see Jesus as anarchist. He was indeed fully submitted and obedient to ‘one ruler.’ Looking through the gospels, particularly the Gospel of John, we continual see Jesus acting in submission and obedience to the will of the Father. We find in John 5 – that Jesus ‘only does what he sees the Father doing, he does nothing on his own.’ I can’t image a more focused statement on submission and obedience to authority. And in Philippians 2 we find that Jesus is exalted (an important term) because of his obedience. Obedience to the Father is something the Jesus tells us is required of us as well.
I’d also challenge the notion that Jesus was not political. He just did not carry out his mission using political power and other fallen power structures of this world. But he certainly did engage political systems (both religious and civil) and challenge them – the ultimate challenge being the cross.
I understand the tension of trying to live this out in community, but I think we need to be careful with making everything horizontal and throwing out the vertical. By flattening the Trinity to the horizontal and inline with community, we ignore the fact we have One just judge on the judgement seat – and it’s not the community.
You may find the idea of ‘kingship’ antiquated, but it remains a valid picture, both in light of a ruling authority and in light of the ability to exercise judgment. These pictures are necessary for us to get the idea as abstractions quickly lose meaning.
With regards to Caesar / God, there’s a tension here that’s trying to be resolved that I believe shouldn’t be resolved. We must be comfortable living within the tension of that paradox. When looking at passages like Romans 13, we find that even broken and corrupt governing systems are still an extension of God’s authority for peace and order in the land. We find other similar ideas with reference to authority over us. Bottom line, a rejection of the authority over us, even broken authority, is a rejection of the authority of God. Of course, there are some provisos, caveats, etc with that, but the basic concept stands.
Is the system broken, corrupt and oppressive? Sure. I don’t think John called it the “Beast (from the sea)” in Revelation (13) for no reason. What will our non-participation fix? Anything? Could our participation in a broken system lead to tearing down injustices? I believe so, and we’ve seen it before countless times. In fact, there are a great number of things that can only be changed by participating within / engaging the system. By disengaging, we allow others unchallenged power to continue in their injustice. I’m reminded of the old cliche quote from Edmund Burke that I think is appropriate – “All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.”