The War Inside

This clip comes from the movie The Fountainhead, with a screenplay written by Ayn Rand.  I consider the speech shown in the clip to be one of the greatest speeches I have ever heard.  It is also indicative of the constant struggle going on inside of me.

You see, I desire to be like Howard Roark, the man in the clip - I desire to defend man's right to live for his own sake.  I want to be a creator and not a parasite.  I look at the man Howard Roark - both in the words of this speech and in the book of the same title - and see an ideal to which I should strive...

But at the same time, Howard Roark is incompatible with my faith, with my desire to become like Christ.  In many respects, Christ is the exact antithesis of Howard Roark - a man who lives not for his own sake at all, but exclusively for the sake of others.  And this is the ideal to which I am called..

So one can see how there is a tension within me between these two noble ideals.  I say both are noble because I don't see this as an "old man" vs. "new man" debate or as Roark being exclusively bad.  There are parts of Roark's speech that are perfectly at home within my faith.  Christians should, for example, resist the attempts of any "collective" to destroy individuals.  One could argue that the call upon a Christian is to surrender to the collective that is the church...but this is not true.  Rather, the call for the Christian is to surrender to that which is Jesus Christ.

Further, who can hear these words and not want to be a creator and not a parasite:

"The creator stands on his own judgment; the parasite follows the opinions of others.  The creator thinks; the parasite copies.  The creator produces; the parasite loots.  The creator's concern is the conquest of nature; the parasite's concern is the conquest of men."

In short, I think that there is much in the speech of and the character that is Howard Roark that is admirable and should be striven toward.  However, Roark is not Christ.  Christ is the ultimate fulfillment of what Roark is describing, though.  For in Christ, we see a man who, though he appears to live exclusively for others, does so not out of a sense of duty or because someone has forced him.  Rather, Christ lives for the sake of others because it is precisely in him to do so.  It is the "work" of Christ.  It is Christ's identity.  It is the life of a man who, although he does not recognize the "right" of anyone to make claims on  him, chooses freely to allow and fulfill the claims of others.

I want to be like Howard Roark.  I also want to be like Jesus the Christ.  A little tension between the two may not be such a bad thing.

jB

Torture and Eucharist

I recently read Torture and Eucharist by William Cavanaugh.  Several people had suggested that I read it and told me how great a book it is, so I finally picked it up.  Cavanaugh frames his entire discussion around the Chilean dictator Pinochet and his regime of torture.  It is a brilliant foray into that vague place where the church and the political world come together, and Cavanaugh suggests an entirely new way of being the church in a confused and politically pluralistic world.

I was fascinated by how relevant Cavanaugh's words are for the United States today.  Most people (rightfully) don't categorize the US government with regimes such as Pinochet's.  However, it cannot be legitimately argued that the United States government never engages in torture.  Ask the Iraqi prisoners from Abu Ghraib or the victims of waterboarding or the various other "interrogation techniques" commonly used by agencies of our government.  To be sure, the United States participates in torture at least to some extent.  And that makes Cavanaugh's book all the more relevant.

I was further struck by Cavanaugh's indictment of both of the common methods the church uses to interact with the government.  Using the Catholic church in Chile as his example, he shows how both the "conservative" idea of having the church run the government and the "liberal" idea of complete separation of church and state not only are inadequate reactions against torturing regimes but actually enable the torturers.  What, then, are we in the church who want to be true to Christ's calling left with?

According to Cavanaugh, the principal goal of torture is to dis-member the community - that is, to break down the social links between people and create a mass of individuals.  Individuals can't revolt and force the torturers out of business, but a community could, so the torturers do everything in their power to drive individuals into isolation.  It is against this intended goal of torture that the church must set itself, and the "weapon" which the church wields in the battle is the Eucharist.

In the Eucharist, isolated individuals come and together and take in the body and blood of Jesus and become a community again.  The tortured person and the paranoid community can come together and be re-membered.  The body of Christ is formed in the act of the Eucharist as people consume the bread and wine and are, in turn, consumed into Christ himself.  Thus, the torturers' goal of driving individuals to isolation is subverted.  Further, the church can (and should, according to Cavanaugh) refuse to serve the Eucharist to those who participate in the apparatus of torture until they cease doing so - which is the heart of "excommunication."

Admittedly, the idea of "excommunication" works much better in the Catholic church around the world than it ever could in most American protestant denominations or even in the American Catholic church.  I can't help but wonder, though, what would happen if the leaders of the many churches in the United States got together and collectively said, "We will not serve communion to those who participate in or enable the apparatus of torture - in our country or anywhere else."

Certainly many of those who participate in US sponsored torture would call themselves Christians - as our current President does.  What would happen if, the next time communion is served where President Bush is in attendance, the minister politely but firmly refused to serve the President?  Would it make a difference?  Would it motivate Bush to consider changing his administration's policy regarding torture?  What if the people who actually do the torturing were also barred from Eucharist?  Could we see a massive shift away from the apparatus of torture?

Possibly...I don't know.  Perhaps such a movement would be irretrievably damaged by the lackadaisical attitude towards the Eucharist in most American churches.  One thing I do know, though: it would certainly be a step in the right direction if the church would stop pandering to those who clamor for theocracy and those who clamor for complete removal of the church from public and political life and make its stand as the representative of the already-but-not-yet kingdom of God in the world.

NOTE: This has been a woefully inadequate summary of a fantastic book.  I recommend that anyone who is interested in the intersection of church and the political world read Torture and Eucharist.  It is a hard book to read, but it is certainly worth the effort.