Definitions
The responses to my post on Bush’s gnosticism (a term, I would add, that I am using in the way Voegelin used it) keep coming back to a similar objection: I have defined orthodoxy and traditional Christianity in such a way that it must necessarily exclude a great many professing Christians in America in one way or another, or at least it would do so on specific points of deviation from orthodoxy. Put another way, I am trying to be precise, as opposed to lumping together a wide array of Christians under a convenient banner that imputes to them fidelity to orthodox teachings and Christian tradition that they may not necessarily possess. More exactly, I am insisting on maintaining standards used to judge such matters so that we call things by their proper names and describe things correctly. Most everyone can see the problem in labeling adherents to the liberal tradition as theocrats, because theocrats are necessarily illiberal, and I think most of us can see the problem in describing decentralist, civil libertarian, antiwar conservatives as authoritarians, because these people are actively critical of and opposed to authoritarian policies. I assume most of us agree that describing jihadists as fascists rather than as Islamic fanatics is misleading and possibly intentionally so, because jihadists are simply a very different group and hold radically different views about most things that distinguish them from fascists. Nonetheless, somehow it is supposed to be permissible to paint politically conservative Christians, some of whose views may be theologically conservative and some which are definitely not, as traditional and orthodox and then use this convenient labeling to say that the bad political fruits of their very un-traditional and un-orthodox views are the result of bringing orthodoxy and traditional Christianity into government and the public square. I think this move is an illegitimate one, because it is an attempt to trace the source of a destructive ideology, but in the process Linker is deliberately overlooking the content of the ideology and fixating instead on superficial rhetoric.
There seems to be a certain resistance to my argument, which surprisingly seems to be strongest from those who are not interested in any triumphs of orthodoxy. The pervasiveness of heterodoxy should put opponents of the “religious right” at ease, because a doctrinally confused or mushy religious conservatism poses no real threat to anything except right religion, but strangely enough the broad cultural triumph of heterodoxy even on the political right instills fears of orthodoxy’s political influence. It seems to me that theological, cultural and political liberals (who are not always the same people) are still fighting old battles as if there were still a large, concerted Anti-Modernist or traditionalist contingent resisting them, and at least some of them are having difficulty getting used to the idea that they have largely driven their opponents from the field and driven them to the margins of theological discourse and the culture wars. Even to the extent that liberal victories in different areas have provoked temporary backlashes and tactical inter-confessional and even inter-religious alliances, the very emergence of an ecumenical Christianity of the right, presaged by the rise of inter-confessional Christian democracy in Europe, and the (mostly rhetorical) idea of “ecumenical jihad” are pieces of evidence of how much ground orthodoxy has given up in most Christian confessions in America. As doctrine has taken a distant back seat to practical cooperation and limited shared policy goals, this was to some extent unavoidable.
As for the question of extensive heterodoxy, Ross had a good post on this last year. In it, he wrote this:
And of course a distinctively American strand of heresy is integral to a large swathe of what we think of as “conservative” Christianity [bold mine-DL]: You could call it Americanism or Moralistic Therapeutic Deism or something else entirely, but whatever label you choose it owes as much to Emerson, Hegel and Norman Vincent Peale as to Nicaea and Chalcedon, and its emanations and penumbras influence everything from the prosperity gospel to the foreign policy of George W. Bush.
Ross wrote earlier of “the American heresy” and said this:
The people who read Joel Osteen and Joyce Meyer and The Prayer of Jabez may be more politically conservative then the people who read A Wing and a Prayer, and read certain passages of Genesis and Leviticus more literally, but the theology they’re imbibing is roughly the same sort of therapeutic mush. Indeed, the big difference between the prosperity gospel that Osteen and his ilk are peddling and Schori’s liberal Episcopalianism has less to do with any theological principle and more to do with what aspect of American life they want God to validate.
It’s this promise of validation that is particularly important. This is the hope not so much that Christ arose from the dead and broke the gates of Hades to free us and our ancestors from our fetters, but that there is basically a way to reconcile taking up the Cross and following Him while not doing much to change how one lives or distinguish oneself from the conventions of contemporary society. It is an inoffensive, undemanding Gospel, which always seems to find loopholes for our self-fulfillment rather than calling for self-denial or sacrifice of any kind, and which exists not so much to call men to repentance as to endorse choices they have already made. Not everyone is equally under the influence of this heresy, and some resist it far better than others, but it is constantly pulling people off the royal road into one or more of a series of ditches where they find rationalizations for abuses of power, abuses of human dignity, abuses of creation and so on. No one, no confession, is immune to its effects, but what makes no sense is to say that the way to avoid falling into these ditches is to abandon the royal road and throw away the map that brought you to it.
Harold Bloom’s “The American Religion” addresses this same subject. Bloom (who claims gnostic sympathies himself) identified Emerson as a vital source for the American re-invention of the Christian faith.
He sees Mormon theology and Pentecostal views on “continuous revelation” as two highly distinctive examples of this post-Christian American religiong.
There’s a lot to comment on here, but let me start by saying first that I agree with a lot of this, and secondly that there is perhaps less real disagreement with the last post than it may appear. I know that for myself, and I suspect for others, we weren’t so much disagreeing with what you were saying, but more with the way that you connected it to the Douthat-Linker dispute. That is to say, you presented it as supporting Ross’ opinion and opposing Linker’s position, whereas in reality I think your position in many ways disagrees with both Ross and Linker.
But more on this later, after some further thought.
Brilliant post!
Okay … there are really a lot of different aspects to this.
First and foremost, upon reflection, I think that to a large degree Daniel and his critics are talking past each other. Daniel, in essence, is saying “don’t blame orthodox Christianity for what many (most?) Christians in the United States are doing.” Which is fair enough. But what some of the more secular people on this board, myself included, are saying, is that we aren’t criticizing Christianity per se; we are criticizing a movement, or, more accurately, movements, in the United States which have been quite destructive. Criticism which, ironically, Daniel shares to a significant degree.
As a secularist, I’d much rather live among Christians who partake of the kind of orthodoxy and tradition that Daniel identifies, as opposed to the current “religious right.”* But sadly enough, from both Daniel’s perspective and mine, that tradition in the United States is mostly absent. It’s as absent from self identified devout Christians as it is from less devout Christians.
Now, as a non believer and a secularist, if I had to choose between a nation of people with a belief system like myself and people with a beleif system like Daniel’s, I’d choose people like myself. But as interesting as that may be in the abstract, that doesn’t represent the real cultural/theological playing ground in the United States. I don’t think Daniel is saying otherwise. The real divisions are more depressing, for both myself and Daniel.
And that really brings us to core issue. Daniel is, in his own way and from a very different direction, criticizing the same religious right that Linker does. The quotes from Ross indicate that he shares some of these criticisms, though deployment of those arguments in the Linker debate would have, I think, clarified where Ross was coming from. But let’s be honest – even Ross, far more orthodox and traditional (as defined by Daniel) than the typical Christian conservative in the U.S., is worlds apart from Dsniel in … if not his belief system, in the implications that he draws from it. After all, while critical of Bush for many of the same reasons as Daniel, he was still a supporter of the Iraq war (with some current regrets), and is far from a non-interventionist, with fairly conventional beliefs about Amercia’s role in the world (tempered a little, but only a little, by Catholic just war teachings).
Which I think brings me full circle to the last paragraph of my post in the other thread. Even a relatively Orthodox/traditional Christian like Ross can reach radically different conclusions about such issues. It’s about the human nature and non-religious culture and ideology to a much larger extent than it’s about theological differences.
Would I prefer someone with Daniel’s world view, or even Ross’ world view, to someone like Bush? Well of course. But those aren’t the only options on offer. And as annoying as it is to Daniel and Ross to have people bash “orthodox” Christians for the sins of the Bush administration, it’s doubly annoying to see people like Ross (in essence) bash the secular left for the sins of the Bush administration.
*Yes, I fully recognize that the religious right is not a monolith, but certainly their voting patterns and politics tend to be highly correlated and very supportive of the kind of excesses that Daniel decries. And their most visible leaders … don’t get me started.
One final point. Daniel seems to think that his readers are disagreeing with his statment’s about “real” orthodox, traditional Christianity. Speaking for myself, that’s not the case. It’s more that, as a secularist/lapsed Catholic, I don’t feel qualified to agree or disagree with his opinion on that.
What we’re saying … okay, what I’m saying – is that the content of “orthodox,” traditional Christianity isn’t necessarily terribly relevant to the debate, given the absence thereof (for the most part) in the United States.
Which is ironic in a way, given that the U.S. is has more religiously devout people that most western nations. They just happen to be (in Daniel’s opinion, if I understand him correctly) mostly heretics.
Okay, I know that I said finally, but it occurs to me (should have occurred to me sooner, has in other contexts) that Daniel and myself, as well as most of his readers here, secular liberals and religious conservatives alike, are really debating about this stuff from the outside. We’re all disaffected from the current culteral milieu to a large degree. Heck, even as an agnostic left libertarian I probably have more in common with Daniel in terms of the kind of culture we would like to see than either of us has with, say, your typical politically moderate nominal Christain.
Ah, can’t stop myself. But this stuff really is interesting to me. This kind of builds on some of what I said above, but is maybe more focused.
Vis a vis Daniel’s second apragraph, I think he misunderstands the left reaction to the current religious right. The current heterodox, theologically divided religious right, is fairly united in it’s political manifestation, and that political manifestation is (a) malign, and (b) powerful in terms of electing conservative GOP candidates to office (at least until recently).
The fact that they haven’t been very successful in getting their cultural agenda adopted is indeed signficant, but doesn’t negate the above two facts.
“But what some of the more secular people on this board, myself included, are saying, is that we aren’t criticizing Christianity per se; we are criticizing a movement, or, more accurately, movements, in the United States which have been quite destructive. Criticism which, ironically, Daniel shares to a significant degree.”
Yes, I do share much of the criticism of the actions that have been taken. The trouble I have had over the last few years, whether it was with Sullivan’s book, Linker or any of a number of other people making similar arguments, is that we all tend to be in agreement that the effects of the policies that were actually instituted have usually been very bad, but there seems to be a huge gap in how we understand the origins or sources of the ideas behind the policies.
Whether it is Sullivan’s idea of “fundamentalism” or “Christianism” or Linker’s “theocons,” there is some concept put out there by some critics that is supposed to explain the entire Bush Era and its follies. The first problem is that no one idea or set of ideas can explain everything during this period, the second is that theocons/fundamentalists did not wield the kind of influence attributed to them, and the third is that the understanding of who the theocons/fundamentalists are and what they want is normally very badly off. As LMaggitti correctly notes, I have no great fondness for the theocons/fundamentalists who are the targets of these attacks, even if I am opposed to them for different reasons than you are, so I don’t have much of a stake in defending them as a group.
Where I do have more of a stake, and where I think the analysis simply does not fit the evidence, is in this claim, which Linker makes, that it was orthodoxy wot done it. I think this claim wouldn’t hold up even if you didn’t accept my more restrictive definition of orthodoxy. I am annoyed by this claim about orthodoxy/traditional Christianity for several reasons. One reason is that it is very similar to the claim that the flaws of the Bush administration were expressions of the flaws of conservatism. I would be willing to say that the *conservative movement* has flaws, some of which were expressed by the administration, but that its chief and most significant flaw was in its lack of conviction and willingness to acquiesce in almost anything in the name of party loyalty.
Likewise, conservative Christians share this flaw of sacrificing principle in the name of party loyalty, but this is a mistaken privileging of a political loyalty over religious obligation. The main legitimate criticism that can be leveled at conservative Christians, and I have made it many times, is the tendency to give bad political actors a pass because conservative Christians identify them as “their own.”
Obviously, I have other reservations and problems with what passes for modern and popular conservatism, so whenever I see someone saying that militarism, cheerleading for corporate capitalism and neoliberal trade policies, nationalism and justifications for mass consumer culture are “conservative” I don’t want to leave that claim uncontested. Instead, I want to make clear that what is called conservatism in this country has become (and perhaps already was for a long time) is very different from what I understand conservatism to mean. That doesn’t necessarily mean that my conservatism does not have flaws or that it does not have its own potential pitfalls and blind spots, but that I am going to insist that you not use the word conservative, at least not without some significant qualification, when criticizing these other things that I, too, find abhorrent.
Then there is simply a matter of assessing the content of administration policies and rhetoric and judging which groups have real influence. In other words, if the Bush years represented some nexus between traditional Christianity or even popular evangelical Christianity and the state, there ought to be some evidence of this in the acts and words of the administration’s officials. One can selectively emphasize the ccasional outbursts by the Gen. Boykins of the world to make the case that Bush and his people were governing as theocons/fundamentalists/Christianists/whatever, but on the whole there simply isn’t much proof that any influence evangelicals had went beyond Michael Gerson’s speechwriting, and even then this was evangelical Christianity as mediated through Gerson’s own bizarre filter.
Look at it another way that might make more clear what I am trying to say. Chesterton was by all accounts a faithful Catholic, and indeed the author of a book called Orthodoxy, and in many of his religious, social and economic views he has much to teach us, but he was also a political liberal (and Liberal) and a great admirer of the French Revolution, much as you might expect an early 20th century liberal to be. Chesterton eagerly supported British entry into WWI, which was one of the most undeniably futile, monstrous wars in human history, and what is more he even defended the war (waged against the last Catholic emperor, no less) as a war for Christian civilization. In this he was not alone, and this sort of nonsense flowed on both sides of the war, but to what do I attribute his pro-war zeal? Do I trace it to his Catholicism and his adherence to orthodox Christianity, or do I conclude that political enthusiasms–liberalism, nationalism or some combination of these and other things–had gotten the better of him and he then wrapped up his mistaken enthusiasm in Christianizing rhetoric? Specific examples are helpful, and this entire discussion would benefit from more of them.
On a final note, there needs to be a distinction between people who belong to traditional and orthodox confessions, or are among the more traditional in their confessions, and the public figures who claim to speak in their name or on behalf of orthodox/traditional Christianity. There also needs to be greater precision. If the problem someone has with religious conservatives in American politics is that they are pro-life, he would need to demonstrate that they have both great influence and that their influence on this issue has been pernicious. It makes no sense to say, “The Bush administration has been a disaster, mostly because of the Iraq war and the financial crisis, but it is formally pro-life and Bush is an evangelical, so pro-lifers and evangelicals are primarily to blame for the disaster and this is proof that religion and politics should never mix.”
On a tangential note, the reason why Linker’s opponents, such as Ross and Rod, often refer back to abolitionists and civil rights activists is to highlight the absurdity of Linker’s complaints about the mixing of religion and politics. This brings me back to an observation I made during an earlier debate on abortion, which is that pro-choice folks are not interested in secular or religious pro-life arguments because they are not interested in pro-life conclusions. How one makes the argument is beside the point, which is also why political liberals and progressives don’t mind if the Christian left frames arguments for their goals in Christian language. By the same token of what I have been saying above, it will very likely not be the fault of Sojourners and Commonweal (or whoever) if Obama’s presidency results in bad outcomes, no matter how many times Obama talks about the Social Gospel in between shoveling loads of our money at the banks. The open secret is that, for all of the Biblical rhetoric used by our politicians, serious Biblical Christianity is marginal and not very influential in our politics whether it is railing against economic and social injustice or whether it is condemning immorality and violence against the unborn, and especially when it is decrying unjust warfare.
I would agree with Daniel that it is not one particular religious trope that produces disastrous results like the Bush admin (or WWI for that matter), but a confluence of sources within the free-fall of modern society that can lead to some very strange hybrids. I’m pretty far on the liberal side theologically, politically, and culturally, but even I have my standards, and find Olsteen’s preachings utterly indigestable. Still, I can understand what he’s trying to do for people, and it’s not all bad. He’s dealing with the dilemma of trying to bridge the gap between Christianity and the modern liberal democratic life, which in cultural terms is simply unbridgeable without making big changes to both.
As the guy who often needles Daniel with the charge of theocracy, let me point out that traditional Orthodox Christianity is fundamentally a theocratic movement, from the beginning. What was Constantine but a theocrat? Traditional Christianity, whether eastern orthodox or Catholic, was always about using the power of the State to promote itself, institutionalize itself, and govern by its theological principles. This has been the case throughout the centuries wherever one looks. It’s only been in enlightenment Europe and democratic America that Christianity has been forced to change its stripes, and never willingly. The simple fact is that a devout orthodox believer, like Daniel, cannot help but be a theocrat to some degree, even if it’s a milder form of “democratic theocracy”, in which the people vote to install theologically-based leaders, laws, and policies. I can’t see how Daniel could vote for Baldwin unless this was precisely what he wishes to see come about in this country.
And this is the problem with Christianity intersecting with secular America, which forbids state recognition of religion. Christianity has been, by tradition since the time of Constantine, wedded to the notion of monarchial theocracy, and a part of Christian America wants to adapt that tradition to the democratic state we now have. That adaptation is uneasy, because there’s an inherent contradiction between the two. So it supports leaders with Christian/monarchist leanings, such as Bush, at the expense of secualr democratic principles (or even at the expense of various Christian moral principles that collide with the notion of state power, such as war and torture). But the basic problem is that to be a truly orthodox Christian, one can’t help but be a theocrat in one way or another, because that is what the tradition stands for in political and cultural terms. Ultimate authority is supposed to be invested in the Church, as it comes from God, rather than from the electorate. The policies of Christian culture are not supposed to be voted on. The law emanates from scripture, tradition, and revelation, not from compromises between differing elements of the electorate.
This isn’t to say I believe Daniel to actually be a theocrat. He’s just caught in the middle, like most everyone else, and is searching for some kind of plausible, workable solution. I don’t think he wants to institute a new Byzantine Empire here in America (correct me if I’m wrong), but he does feel compelled to lobby for policies and laws that are theologically correct, and that would express the orthodox theological viewpoint (such as outlawing abortion). And yet another part of American Christendom, such as the “liberal” Olsteen and others like him, is more interested in creating a form of Christianity which is wholy compatible with democratic capitalism, rather than at odds with it. The desire not so much to bastardize Christianity (though that may be an effect) as it is to end the war Christianity has with the modern world, by coming up with new formulations based on core Christian theology (rather than traditional cultural and statist ideals) which end the sense of conflict within the culture. In the process, a lot of traditionalism gets thrown out the window. But this is natural in America, which was based on throwing out the traditional political model of monarchy, which has been the basis for human politics since the neolithic.
And there’s a fair argument to be made that Christianity should not be identified with the monarchalist, theocratic principles of orthodoxy, but with only a few core spiritual principles of unconditional love, tolerance, and inner salvation (the Kingdom of heaven is within). As Jesus said, “Give to Caesar what is Caesar’s, and give to God what is God’s”. We could substitute “Secular Democratic America” for “Caesar” and come up with a similar attitude of tolerant indifference for the existing political structure, while remaining spiritually apart from it. Now maybe that’s not what the Olsteens of the world are preaching, but it’s better than becoming too identified with the existing political structure, which is the mistake orthodoxy made in Constantine’s time and the years since. And it’s better than trying to change the existing political structure to reflect one’s theology, since the core political theology of Jesus is one of spiritual separatism and inwardness, which is the meaning of “sacred”. He didn’t acknowledge political authority, and he didn’t seek it either. He had nothing to say to Pilate, even when his own life was at stake.
The liberal fear of activist Christian political movements is that seek to impose a certain kind of semi-heretical Christian theology upon alll of us. While it’s true that there’s an American heresy to contend with, there’s also the heresy of political orthodoxy itself, which runs counter to Jesus’ own life and teachings. As usual with these things, it’s most often a matter of attending to the plank in one’s own eye before worrying about the mote in one’s neighbor’s eye. If orthodox Christianity would absolve itself of its own heretical traditions (and I think it has actually been trying to do so for some time), it will have an easier time dealing with America’s various heretical traditions. The point being, that all political Christianity is a form of heresy.
Regarding Daniel’s response, as I suspected, I find much more to agree with than diagree with here. That may be in part because there is a surprisingly large overlap between what this agnostic left libertarian believes is wrong with our culture and polity, and what conservative orthodox Christian Daniel believes is wrong with our culture and polity.
But let me quible on one point that is a bit like chalk on the blackboard to me:
“The main legitimate criticism that can be leveled at conservative Christians, and I have made it many times, is the tendency to give bad political actors a pass because conservative Christians identify them as “their own.â€
From where I sit, it was not merely giving them a “pass.” For the most part it was active and enthusiastic support of the worst policies, whether we are talking about Iraq, american exceptionalism, torture, unrealistic optimism, lack of humility, and so on, all the faults of the Bush administration that my brand of secular left and Daniel’s brand of orthodox religious right can agree on. That may indeed be because of lack of orthodoxy rather than the reverse, but I don’t think that it can be denied that the current religious right in this country is (by and large, with obvious exceptions) perfectly fine with some of the worst excesses of the Bush administration.
Now here is where maybe Daniel’s “the public figures who claim to speak in their name” comment maybe comes in. I say this with some humility, given my lack of first hand knowledge, but what evidence I have seen (opinion polling, etc.) suggests that most self described religious conservatives mostly shared their leader’s views on the above issues.
Also:
“serious Biblical Christianity is marginal and not very influential in our politics”
The truth of this statement is highly dependant upon how one defines “serious Biblical Christianity” and how one defines “influential.” If you want to argue that most self identified religious conservatives are not “serious Biblical Christians,” then I’d agree with you. But whether or not the religious right is composed of “serious Biblical Christians,” they have been influential in the sense of providing decisive support to a certain noxious political movement.
what is called conservatism in this country has become (and perhaps already was for a long time) is very different from what I understand conservatism to mean.
Well, that’s the issue. 95% of those who profess to be devout Christians and conservatives have a different definition than Daniel does. (Note: I made that number up).
Also, there is no dichotomy between orthodoxy and Moralistic Therapeutic Deism. It is the Jesus-as-totem, God-as-tribal-chieftain God version of Christianity, which controls a political party, is the concern here, not Osteen’s insipid, cartoonish theology.
What’s more, Linker talked about Moralistic Therapeutic Deism as an adequate civil religion. The US can’t have any sectarian orthodoxy in that role; Moralistic Therapeutic Deism seems as good a thing as any for the job.
Daniel’s (and others’) critique of “fundamentalism” and evangelicalism is at least somewhat off the mark. First, there is a significant difference between evangelicalism (of the Dwight Moody variety) and fundamentalism (for example, of the Bob Jones variety.) The former engaged optimistically engaged society, adopting the US’ traditional optimism about human nature, and used secular marketing techniques to spread what it considered the gospel. The latter has a much more rigid biblical hermeneutic, a pessimistic view of humanity, strident opposition to Catholicism (that would translate to Orthodox Christianity except the Orthodox are an insignificant cultural influence in the US) and were traditionally alienated from society.
That changed after WWII, as a result of the triumph of America, rising economic prosperity, the rise of Billy Graham, and at least in my view, the establishment of Israel causing dispensational premillennialists to engage a political system they formerly opposed. (Albeit not in an intense degree until Carter’s election.)
And George Bush is not a fundamentalist by any definition. “Evangelical” does not mean very much as it refers more to a posture towards society than a theological disposition. Methodists (of which he is a part) are also not by any definition fundamentalists, although they originated in what could be described as revivalist, holiness evangelicalism.
I agree that Americanism has come to infect a broad swath of what would be considered “Protestant” evangelicalism and fundamentalism. But the generalizations here (and I wager by Ross and others) overstate things. Osteen’s strongest critics are not liberals (who actually share a great deal in common with him in an emphasis on materialism and human potential), his most strident critics are fundamentalists who criticize his preaching both theologically and practically (that is, it is biblically false and false in fact–people don’t make their own reality, don’t get rich because they will it, etc.)
I think what you need to recognize is that (unlike Catholicism and Orthodox Christianity which have rigid theological systems, the latter even though it is hierarchically diffuse), evangelicalism and fundamentalism cannot be easily generalized.
Your critiques would be closer if they focused on theological viewpoints among these religious trends–dispensationalism and, separately, the prosperity gospel that began back with Moody. It is also an interesting question that the changes, particularly in fundamentalism, have arisen because they largely abandoned their alienation from America’s culture and its political system.
I understand Daniel’s point about what he considers the correct definition of orthodoxy and how, were that adopted, it would change the cultural current he identifies among evangelicals. It certainly would. Still, I think if one is diagnosing the developments, a correct understanding of the origins of the religious trends is necessary.
(Of course, in my view, adopting the “orthodoxy” Daniel advocates would replace one culturally-influenced theology for another, but that’s beside the point. And I’m neither a fundamentalist nor an evangelical; I’m a primitivist which is a difference not relevant here.)
It may be that elsewhere I have not distinguished carefully enough between fundamentalists and evangelicals, but I think WRW misunderstands how I am using fundamentalist in this thread. I don’t think that evangelicals and fundamentalists are all that similar, and I would want to use fundamentalist in a much more limited way, which is another reason why I criticize Sullivan’s use of the label, which he applies very, very broadly.
I don’t accept Sullivan’s broad and misleading use of this label, and I have been referring to it here to remind everyone that what Sullivan calls “fundamentalist” would not only theoretically include both fundamentalists and evangelicals, but also any theological conservatives in Catholic and Orthodox churches and it would even extend to members of other religions. The real distinctions between actual Protestant fundamentalists and evangelicals would be entirely lost on him when he is talking about “fundamentalists,” because he blurs distinctions not just among Protestants but among all Christians who espouse socially conservative views. For him “fundamentalist” is not a description of one’s theological views, but of one’s combination of religious and political commitments.
I certainly agree that terminological confusion is a problem here. For that reason, I try to stay away from the term “fundamentalism.â€
But really I do think we need a term for political conservative Christianity as it manifests itself currently in the United States. Those who are concerned to various degrees about said movement aren’t necessarily concerned with the (large) doctrinal and theological difference among the different components of said movement. Their concern (which I share to some extent, while agreeing with Daniel that said concern is exaggerated by some) is based upon the fairly unified political movement.
It is also true that there are many people who are both conservative and Christian, but are not part of (or fully supportive of) the current Christian conservative political movement. But that is of limited relevance when critiquing the movement qua movement.
Seperately, as understandable as is Daniel’s desire to define (either narrowly or broadly) a form of “Orthodox” Christianity, I’m inclinced to think that Christianity as currently and historically practice resists such defintions, in any universal sense. (i.e., A Christian can reasonably state that certain practices and beliefs are “Orthodox” from the persdpective of his or her faith, and can even argue, as a matter of faith, that such definition is somehow “objectively” true. But the number of Christian doctines that are universal enough (among Christians) to be considered “orthodox” among Christians as a whole are pretty limited.
Also, re-reading WRW’s post, I see that it dovetails nicely with part of what I am saying. None of us here are really defending Sullivan* (for example), Rather, we are saying that some of his critics (and Linker’s critics) are making some of the same type of errors in critiquing them.
In a way, all of this is a little unfair to Daniel, as people like Ross, for example, are much more guilty of this than Daniel.
Finally, I do think that it would help Daniel’s commentary on these issues (which is mostly very good, by the way) if he were a tad less defensive. While it may seem, due to terminological inexactitude, that Sullivan and Linker are talking about people like Daniel, they really aren’t.
*except (speaking for myself) to the pretty limited extent of saying that, stripped of the terminological inexactitude and exageration, he does make some valid points.
Thank you, Daniel. I apologize for missing your specific point in this discussion. I certainly understand why you (or a traditionalist Catholic, I think “traditionalist” is a better term than “conservative” as it lacks political connotation) would be frustrated by being included with fundamentalist. A traditionalist Orthodox or Catholic will have quite different theological beliefs leading to his conservatism that likely will cause him to disagree, for example, on economic policy with a fundamentalist.
I suppose I question to whole point to Sullivan, et al’s inquiry; even to LMaggitti on this point. What is the purpose of examining and categorizing a “religious conservative” movement if you aren’t willing to consider the influences that lead the religious conservative in question to the political conclusions he holds? That will necessarily lead to a different analysis for Catholics and Protestants.
If (presumably liberals/secularists) wish to critique the Religious Right, that can obviously done based on the policies advocated. If they wish to be more sophisticated and actually look at the underlying belief systems that lead to policy positions (such a dispensationalist support for Israel), that’s fine too, but you have to actually consider the systems if you want to do that. Otherwise, it’s a waste of time. And it really seems to me that people like Sullivan just wish to toss around “fundamentalist” so (1) they can engage in the phony psycho-social junk science that all fundamentalists, whether Christian, Muslim, Jew, etc., are motivated by common psychoses or (2) so they can dismiss their opinions on stem cell, abortion, marriage, etc., as “theocratic. Either of those is intellectually lazy and shallow, and, in my view, a waste of time. I can’t even see where it has any merit from a sociological or poli sci standpoint.
If someone really wanted to do some interesting work on the Religious Right, it would be to what extent this political activism is actually consistent with the underlying belief system espoused. But that would quickly just become an academic exercise of no polemical value, which is why Sullivan, et al won’t do it.
“Otherwise, it’s a waste of time.”
I disagree; here’s why.
Let me start by saying what isn’t relevant. I’m convinced that simply criticisizing the movement based upon its religious nature is not legitimate or useful. I part company there from some secularists.
But that said, one can critique the religious right on the same grounds that any political movement can be critiqued. Which is to say, to the extent that a political movement has an impact (negative or otherwise) on a polity or society, it can be critiqued upon that basis. I think we can all agree than many movements do have such effects apart from their advocacy of specific policies.
I mean, we criticize, say, movement conservatism or contemporay liberalism all of the time on that basis. Why should the religious right be immune? It seems to me the contempory religious right is, if anything, a more cohesive/unified entity than contemporary liberalism certainly, and as much so as contemporary movement conservatism (with which it obviously overlaps). That is true if evaluated as a political movement, which is what we are talking about.
Now, the other questions which you raise are also interestring, but they aren’t, it seems to me, a necessary part of a critique of the religious right.
Just to throw in a critique that would be more likely to come from, say, Daniel or even yourself. One could argue that the contemporary religious right, by acting politically, is at the same time acting contrary to certain religious teachings, and undercutting non-political efforts at moral reform (or, at least, taking energy and resources away from such efforts). Why would such a critique, which is entirely seperate from disagreements on ispecific issues, and ignore doctrinal differences, be illegitimate? And if the movement can be critiqued in this manner, why not from a secular perspective?
All of this assumes that there is, indeed, a cohesive and somewhat unified politcal movement which we call the religious right. I think that there pretty obviously is, regardless of the clear doctrinal differences.
Sorry if I wasn’t clear. I agree that “the Religious Right”, if it can be adequately identified, can be properly critiqued like any other organized movement. But what you propose is a policy-based or tactical critique. My only point was that to critique the religious right on the basis of the religious influence upon its positions, without actually considering what that religious influence is, seems a waste of time.
I don’t think you can ignore doctrinal differences in order to make a critique that excessive political involvement is inconsistent with religion. A “kingdom of God on earth” mindset–which animated the abolitionists, for example–would be consistent with political activism. But is it consistent with Scripture?
I understand a secularist wouldn’t be interested in that discussion. And you can critique “religious conservatives” (as opposed to theological conservatives, who may not be politically conservative) it from a secular standpoint. I’m having trouble figuring out, though, how you critique the religious influence on politics without considering the religion.
I think the general modern use of the term “fundamentalist” refers to a fairly radical, modern interpretation of Christianity which, while seeking to return to the “fundamentals” of the faith, in fact invents a new version of Christianity that differs greatly from the traditional mode. Fundamentalists are not seeking to return to tradition, but see much of Christian tradition as obscuring the “true faith”, which is found in an almost free-associating, history-free reading of scripture, as if it popped out of nowhere to “reveal” the truth to those naive enough to imagine they can see the truth in it that the traditions have failed to notice. So what is called the “fundamentalist” movement is actually not just at odds with the secular world, but the traditional modes of Christianity as well. It’s notion of what is “fundamental” can be quite different from what the traditional Christian notion of the fundamentals of Christianity are. So while fundamentalists and traditionalist might agree about and even join together to fight the errors of the modern,secular world, they are nonetheless very much in conflict with one another theologically and docttrinally. It’s a very uneasy alliance.
I think Sullivan has a tendency to lump the more conservative of traditionalists along with the modern evangelical fundamentalists, to the degree that they are temporarily politically allied against secularism, without noticing just how different they are otherwise.
Without agreeing with Conrad’s evaluation of fundamentalism, his evaluation of Sullivan seems right on the mark and I suppose that was Daniel’s point from the start.
Other than to delegitimize the standing of religion in public debate, I cannot understand why Sullivan would persist in such an obvious error. If anything, it is a more curious question how it is that groups so dissimilar in theology could find cohesion in matters of policy. Again, though, that’s really a question for academics, not polemicists; and Sullivan is decidedly the latter.