Picture this scene. It’s the late 1980s. My wife and I are co-pastoring a small church in a rural hamlet in upstate New York. We each work half-time. We’re raising our young children. I have only a few grey hairs. I’m preparing to return to grad school by reading a lot. 

I’m especially reading Stanley Hauerwas, who was a tour de force at the time. I won’t here go into Hauerwas’ theology, accolades or idiosyncrasies. I was a big fan. 

Was I lonely, naive, hungry, hopeful? For whatever reason, I mailed Hauerwas a letter. These were the days of writing on paper, trying to get letterhead to go straight in your dot matrix printer, finding an error or two, printing again, licking an envelope, then a stamp. I wish I could remember what I wrote about. I think it was several questions about an essay he had written.

Surprisingly, in a few weeks, I received a thorough and kind reply. I was shocked and elated — and eager to write again. We corresponded back and forth a few times. I believe I once sent him a draft of an “As We See it” that later appeared in Perspectives — today’s RJ predecessor. Again, I received a keen and timely response. Although in fairness, it was obvious Stanley was dictating the letters into some kind of recording device, to be transcribed by someone else. I don’t recall why I stopped writing. I’d like to hope that if I dug deep enough, I could still find his letters in my files. 

To call Stanley a “friend” would be overreaching. But through the years when our paths crossed at conferences and guild meetings, he was never anything but accessible and friendly–acting, at least, like he knew me. 

* * Where Did Christianity Go Wrong? * *

In 2001, Time Magazine named Hauerwas “America’s Best Theologian”. He responded by saying, “‘Best’ is not a theological category.”

The following section is an excursus of sorts. If you decide to skip ahead to the next section, you can still lead a full and happy life. The tie to Stanley Hauerwas may seem faint; although for me, it is quite clear. I hope you’ll come to see the pebble Stanley put in my shoe; how his way of looking at the world trained me, blessed me, and distressed me.

Basically, I’m laying out options to the question “Where did Christianity get off the track? At what key juncture, did the church move in the wrong direction?” — not fatally, but in a way that has caused significant damage across the centuries. I am going to toss off in a few sentences what has been debated in too many books to number. Some of you will not appreciate my summaries. Others will disagree with my evaluations. 

  • We chose Paul over Jesus. Proponents, which I would especially associate with old school Protestant liberals, contend that St. Paul took the simple, earthy ethics of Jesus and transformed it into a complex system of doctrine focused on the afterlife, while elevating Jesus from winsome rabbi to cosmic ruler. I’m not a subscriber for many reasons, among them, the simple fact that Paul’s letters were written before the canonical gospels.

  • We were duped by Constantine. When Emperor Constantine declared Christianity the established religion of the Roman empire, it was celebrated at the time — and still is by many. But, the argument goes, Christianity lost its essential upside-downness, trading counter-cultural and costly discipleship for the privileges of being the empire’s lapdog. I first encountered this in the work of John Howard Yoder — besmirched though his memory may be. Today it is advanced by many. I more-or-less accept it, although the ongoing collapse of Christendom has been more complex and trying than many of us expected. 

  • We chose Augustine over Pelagius. This seems to be especially fashionable as of late. Augustine encumbered us with original sin and an obsession with sexual sin — so the argument goes. Christianity turned gloomy. Goodness and blessing were extinguished in favor of an incurable curse. Once more Christianity picked doctrine and correct belief over a distinctive, holy lifestyle. Pelagius was a humble, good-living monk and Augustine was blustering and troubled. I won’t defend everything Augustine, still I lean his way. For us in Reformed circles, the Synod of Dort vs. Arminius might be seen as an encore of this debate. 

  • We swallowed the Enlightenment. Typically, this is not viewed as significant as the divides mentioned above. But among the things I learned from Hauerwas and have struggled to metabolize ever since, is that this may afflict today’s church more than the others. In celebrating individual freedom, materialism, and mobility, our sense of church and connectedness were lost. While science and secularism are often portrayed as the boogeymen that arose here, the Enlightenment brought us a sense of mastery and being the rational captains of our own destiny. Over time, this wore away the Christian notions of humility and mutuality.

* * Help Me, Stanley * *

We’re back. Thanks for your patience! 

In my time as a pastor, I occasionally would find myself thinking, “Stanley would be disappointed in me here.” But I discovered that I couldn’t be as rigorous as he advocated. 

Over the years, Stanley’s evaluation of the Enlightenment continued to haunt me. When I became too critical, friends more realistic than I, would ask if I didn’t appreciate flush toilets and freedom of speech. My own disquiet was additionally stirred by my frequent contact with French society, (through my wife) and its revolutionary version of the Enlightenment. (Which nation state is most emblematic of the Enlightenment? The United States, France, or the former Soviet Union? Please keep your responses to less than 200 pages!)

Vicktor Orbán

My puzzlement only increased recently as I watched critics of the Enlightenment do strange things like move to Hungary out of admiration for authoritarian leader Vicktor Orbán. Others spout anti-women, anti-LGBTQ+, and pro-Trump bromides. Then, in the pre-election discussion of what fascism is, one internet sage wrote, “All fascists begin with a critique and rejection of the Enlightenment.” Yikes! Please sir, I don’t want to be a fascist!

In my distress, I decided to reach out to Stanley, after all these years. Basically, I shared what I’ve written above. How can I continue with my reservations toward the Enlightenment without becoming a friend to authoritarians? Is there someplace where Stanley (and I, too?) zigs, where they zag?

And Stanley replied! He even was kind enough to seem to remember me. Just as my portrayal of the problem is in shorthand, so is his reply. Nonetheless, I found it wise and full of deeper undertones. Here’s the gist:

Authoritarian politics are produced by liberal individualism because they give rootless people something to believe in and someone to hate. The alternative to liberal (capitalist) formations is locality. A politics of concrete matters — e.g. good water to drink — is the alternative to the assumption you need a strong leader.

I won’t try to exegete his words. They give me peace and some confidence. I hope they do likewise for you. Still, wrestling matches in the soul are good, and mine isn’t finished.

I’ll conclude simply by expressing my gratitude and admiration for Stanley. He blessed me when I was young, and now he has blessed me again when I’m old. 

Thank you, Stanley. And may the peace of Christ be yours always.

Share This Post:

Facebook
LinkedIn
Threads
Email
Print

11 Responses

  1. So many gold nuggets here. An excellent framework so concisely presented! Thank you, Steve.
    My favorite is “Best is not a theological category.” Rather, we have Tov, Shalom, as our standards: balance, intended-purpose, relational integration, interconnectedness.
    Doctrine always points toward the “best” interpretation. Genesis 1, on the other hand, suggests that God operates on a “very good” standard.

  2. I love “the gist” of his answer. When will we learn that a “strong man” (perhaps in every sense of the term?) is NOT the answer?

  3. Steve
    I loved Stanley’s definition of liberal individualism. The rootlessness stems from forgetting who we are are whose we are.

  4. So good, so wise, so well put. Pithy and sharp. (Did you train in sportswriting with Red Smith?) I might add that I think the worse choice was Augustine over Irenaeus.

      1. Irenaeus: eschatological salvation includes the renewal of the earth. Augustine: eschatological salvation means going off to heaven and the earth be damned.

  5. Thank you Steve.
    I love Stanley. I got to know him by reading his memoir, which I picked up in a little free library in Princeton NJ.
    His personal story is fascinating.
    “Hannah’s Child, a Theologians Memoir”

  6. Heavy sledding made delightful. Thoughtful and helpful. Thanks for the arrows pointing out further reflection and reading.

  7. Rootless people. As Nolan Palsma suggests, the opposite of this is people who belong, body and soul…. I tend to understand “rootlessness” as a condition not necessarily of individualism but of disenchantment, the loss of a sense of real participation with God in the course of our lives. I hope this is not true, but when I hear the words, “Send your Holy Spirit, we pray, that the bread and wine may be to us the body and blood of Christ,” and I look around, I am fairly sure that few of us have a world view that can make sense of these words. We are unable to take in the new wine of scientific discovery; it bursts our old theological wine skins. Radical individualism is itself a condition of disenchantment.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *