Was MLK a prophet?

Sunday, May 24, 2009



Although the public school system, at least in my own limited experience, shies away from even admitting that Martin Luther King, Jr. was a Baptist minister, there are a great many churches that point to him a modern-day prophet. Labeling anyone as a prophet is a complicated business and has been for some thousands of years (see Deut. 13, 18). While the prophetic quality of King's message is endlessly debatable and depends more on what you bring to the analysis than the actual content of his speeches and sermons, I think a more interesting avenue to pursue is to compare King's life and work with those of the Old Testament prophets and see what correspondences, if any, exist. What one finds, I believe, is almost an exact replication of the pattern set by the likes of Ezekiel, Isaiah, Amos, Jeremiah, and Hosea and elucidated by Rabbi Abraham Heschel in his book The Prophets. Some of the distinguishing features of this pattern is a moment of call to an unsought after prophetic task, a visionary quality, a great sensitivity to evil and injustice, an engagement in the indictment of contemporary society, and a life tinged with agony.

Perhaps a more interesting line of inquiry would be into the consequences of the acceptance of modern prophecy into mainline denominations Is it possible that King's "Letter From Birmingham Jail" could be canonized as some have sought to do? What new voices would the church be opened to? How would the church incorporate these voices into its regular worship and communal life? Could it be open to such voices without causing increased denominationalism?

Jesus saves. But how?

Saturday, May 23, 2009



Perhaps the most exciting theory I've learned about during my first year at HDS is the Giradian theory of atonement. Whereas most Christians understand the bumper sticker slogan "Jesus saves" to mean that "Jesus died to pay for our sins," René Girard argues that the Gospel, as a story about an entirely innocent victim, exposes the violence that forms the very foundation of human society.

His theory revolves around two principles: mimetic desire and the interconnection of violence and the sacred.

Girard understands all desire to be imitative: we don't desire objects for their own sake, we desire them because others do. As such, the people whose desire we imitate become obstacles to our obtaining the object, and thus our rivals. He suggests that if two people desire the same object there will soon be a third, then a fourth, and so on. Because desire is not for the object itself, the object is soon forgotten and what is left is only the antagonism of rivalry. With the object no longer in the picture, people cease to imitate others' desires and instead start to imitate their antagonism. Whereas before they wanted to share the same object, they now want to destroy the same enemy.

Due to this growing antipathy, an outbreak of violence occurs and an individual or group is made the arbitrary victim. After the victim's death, the group's desire for violence is suddenly appeased and peace suddenly restored. The victim comes to be understood as both the origin of the conflict and also the origin of the renewed peace. That paradox imbues the victim with a quality of sacredness. Girard argues that this process is cyclical and is at the very heart of human society.

In a survey of world myths, Girard discovered that most center on the culpability of the sacred victim and the righteousness of his or her killers. He found in the Gospels, however, a different pattern. The Gospels tell a story of an entirely blameless victim. In the accounts of Jesus' crucifixion everyone (from the disciples to Pontius Pilate) is culpable for Jesus' death BUT Jesus. The "good news," then, affirms the innocence of the victim and exposes the sacrificial means by which society maintains its equilibrium.

WHOA.

Love

Friday, May 22, 2009

One of the great leitmotifs of Martin Luther King, Jr.'s ethical and theological thought is his threefold conception of love comprising the categories of eros, philia, and agape. "Eros is a sort of aesthetic love.... Everybody has experienced eros in all of its beauty when you find some individual that is attractive to you and that you pour out all of your like and your love on that individual. Philia, however, "is a sort of intimate affection between personal friends. On this level, you like a person because that person likes you. You love on this level, because there’s something about the person you love that is likeable to you."


Of these three, agape represents highest form of love for King because it does not depend on personal preference but upon recognition of the other as a fellow child of God. It is this kind of love that is intended in Jesus's admonition to love your enemies. King explains it:


A
gape is something of the understanding, creative, redemptive goodwill for all men. It is a love that seeks nothing in return. It is an overflowing love; it’s what theologians would call the love of God working in the lives of men. And when you rise to love on this level, you begin to love men, not because they are likeable, but be cause God loves them. You look at every man, and you love him because you know God loves him. And he might be the worst.