Bit of a digression from the usual mix of topics I write about but some recent happenings have made me want to jot this down. What follows are a few tips for those wanting to work with people experiencing homelessness in some sort of charitable institution or social service agency. This will be the first in a short series of post.
(1) Don’t pretend to be somebody you are not.
Maybe you haven’t been street-involved, maybe you’re just a kind person, a religious do-gooder, a social work student just coming out of school, or a person who got tired of the rat race and wanted to switch to a job that felt more “meaningful.” That’s okay. Don’t feel intimidated by co-workers that have way more professional experience, relevant knowledge, or who have had life experiences that are similar to those of the people whom you desire to serve. You may feel like you need to put on a front and pretend that you’re “harder” or have more “street smarts” than you actually have. Maybe you’ll even start talking all the street or prison argot like you know what you’re talking about. Don’t do that.
Faking who you are is one of the worst things you can do. A lot of the folks you are wanting to serve have learned to read people really well — when you’re on the street, in and out of jail, have spent a lot of time interacting with various social services and their staff members, or coming from various experiences of violence, marginality, and vulnerability, you can develop a good instinct about who is sincere and who is not. If you’re a faker, you’re going to lose the respect of the people whom you are trying to serve and they’ll put up with you but they won’t want to be around you (and your co-workers might feel the same way, depending on their patience level).
(2) Don’t remain who you are or have been.
Change. This is different than faking things. This is learning to be a different kind of person. Learn to be in relationships with people who are different than you and who (previously) may have made you feel awkward, annoyed, or scared. In fact, seek out the people who scare you and prioritize getting to know them. Doing that, you’ll learn about stereotypes that are embedded within you, even though you think you’re a wonderfully open-minded person. For example, I remember when I first started working with street-involved young people in Toronto — I realized that I was “naturally” gravitating towards the white gutter punk kids, and was more standoffish with the Jamaican soldiers or the aboriginal gang-bangers. I realized that I felt intimidated by them… and I realized that there were some race-related fears I carried within me even though I always thought I had no prejudices or anything like that related to race.
[A bit off topic but here’s a thought experiment for you: if you’re walking down a lonely street late at night and you see two white boys dressed in preppy clothing walking down the sidewalk towards you would you have a different internal reaction than if you saw two black fellas dressed in hip-hop clothing walking down the sidewalk towards you? What about two aboriginal guys covered in tattoos? Notice that the only basis for having a different reaction would be the appearance of the guys — their skin and clothing — and nothing else. Hmmmm…]
Also, there’s every chance that you don’t really know how to care about people and serve them in the ways in which they truly want to be served and in the ways that would really help them to attain the goals they have set for themselves. A lot of people will tell you what’s wrong with “the poor” or “addicts” or “juvenile delinquents” — from social service schools, to charitable organizations, to churches — and a lot of people will think they have “the answers” or “the solutions”… and a lot of those people will be wrong. This means that even if you don’t hold a lot of negative stereotypes about people who experience homelessness, you still might adhere to a model of service or of care that does a lot of harm. So, you may think you’re helping people but you’re actually hurting them.
This means that, if you get into this work, you’re going to have to be open to asking hard questions of yourself about yourself. You’ll have to be open to the criticisms of others. If somebody you are trying to serve flips out on you ask yourself: am I doing what is best? How can I do this different? Don’t just retreat to excuses like “Oh, he’s in psychosis” or “Oh, she’s mad but I’m just doing things by the book.” Step back and examine yourself. Same goes from criticisms you receive from co-workers — and you really need to invite those criticisms (I know I still need to do that… it’s probably a life-long thing). Don’t just think: “Oh, he’s burnt out” or “Oh, she just had a bad day.” Step back and think.
(3) Learn everything you can from everybody you can and apply it in your own way.
Listen, first and foremost, to the people whom you are claiming to serve. Listen to them as people. Like you would listen to your friends. Or family. Or teachers. Or anybody else. If you’re listening to somebody like she is a problem you are going to help solve, you’re not listening very well. If you’re listening to somebody like he is a charity case and you are doing him a favour, you’re not listening very well. Learn to be a good listener. Don’t just think about the next thing you’re going to say or how you’re going to fix everything up. Think about if things were reversed and you were doing the talking.
One of the most helpful initial things you can learn from the folks whom you claim to serve is who the good workers are (learn this from observation more than anything). What staff members are respected by the clients? Who do people go to when they really need to talk? Who do people go to for help with solving a problem? Why do they go to these people? Watch these workers. Learn from them. Ask them lots of questions. Questions are good and there is nothing wrong with asking them. Don’t feel shy — it’s massively refreshing to meet new workers who ask good questions (and if you are listening and watching like this, you will be asking good questions). Ask if you can join them in some of their conversations or in some of their tasks, projects or groups. Don’t feel offended if they say no. As they get to know you more, and as you demonstrate your caliber and character, you’ll receive more and more invitations to join various things.
Also watch and see what staff members are not respected by the clients? Who do they “put up with”? Who do they dislike? Why? Don’t be like them. By saying these things — I’m not saying that this is some sort of popularity contest. Respect is a deeper thing than popularity. Some people will say “Oh, the residents/clients/whomever don’t like me because I enforce the rules” or “because I tell it like it is.” Bullshit. I know people who enforce rules but whom are well respected (because of how they go about doing that) and people who enforce rules that are despised (because of how they go about doing that). And there are plenty of different ways to “tell it like it is.”
Same goes, by the way, for the staff members who are respected by the people whom we claim to serve. Some people will say: “Oh, they just like that worker because she’s hot.” Bullshit. I’ve known plenty of hot workers and some were loved and some were hated.
One point of clarification: when I say that you should learn to be like certain co-workers and not like others, I’m not saying you should try to be somebody else or somebody you are not (i.e. I’m not saying you need to be a faker). What I am saying is that you can learn basic characteristics or skills to apply or avoid and then find your own way to apply those things and your own niche.
So learn from the folks you want to serve and learn from your-coworkers. But you also learn about where you work. Learn what you can and cannot do there. Learn what other people do there. Know what is expected of you. Learn what other services are available in town and learn how to network with them. Learn the relevant legislation and learn about the broader socioeconomic, political, and cultural dynamics that are relevant to your work. In other words, learn to do your job and learn to do it well. You are getting paid because people are homeless — so everything you buy is bought with money you gained from being in a situation wherein homelessness exists. This means that, out of everybody in society, you’ve got a massive debt to people who are homeless (this is why some folks refer to social services as poverty pimps — people and agencies who have learned to exploit the context of homelessness for their own advantage and comfort… but more on that later).
Of course, all this learning takes time. And that’s okay. Just dive right in. The water is warm, and you will very quickly gain respect from your co-workers and from the people whom you desire to serve if they see you learning everything you can.
A Note on Derrida's Reading of "Counterfeit Money"
[A thought that occurred to me when I read Given Time: I. Counterfeit Money. I feel like I might be missing something so I’m throwing this up here hoping that those who know more about these things could expand on this.]
Given all the different angles, options, rabbit trails, and possible readings he explores, there is one reading of Baudelaire’s story (Counterfeit Money) that came to my mind fairly early on but that Derrida never mentions. It is this: what if the friend of the narrator is giving gifts to the narrator (not just one but two gifts)?
The narrators states that “You are right; next to the pleasure of feeling surprise, there is none greater than to cause a surprise.” In response to this the friend immediately surprises the narrator both by the words he says (“It was the counterfeit coin”) and the way in which he says those words (“he calmly replied”). This then sparks a series of thoughts in the narrator’s mind — as he tries to make sense of this surprising revelation — which is then interrupted by an even more surprising (and “appalling”) revelation from the friend of the narrator — he repeats the first statement the narrator made (albeit with a few alterations): “Yes, you are right; there is no sweeter pleasure than to surprise a man by giving him more than he hopes for.”
Notice this: the friend does not say that receiving a surprise is a greater pleasure than giving a surprise (as the narrator asserted). And he is more specific about the kind of surprise that creates pleasure in the one who creates the surprise — giving a person more than he or she hopes for. Is this not precisely what the friend has now done with the narrator? He surprised him (twice!). And this was more than the narrator hoped for — instead of causing him pleasure it appalled him and, rather than making him feel gratitude, it caused him to feel that his friend had committed an unforgivable offense!
One wonders, then, how Derrida neglected this reading for doesn’t it offer us something closer to an example of the “pure gift” he speaks about throughout this text? A gift that cannot be recognized as a gift, a gift that does not create any sense of debt, exchange or obligation, nothing is given back in order to annul the gift, it disappears in a flash (although that does not mean what has transpired in this event has no longer lasting impact) and so on.
If this is the case, one is left questioning the value of pure(r) gifts. While Derrida is certainly correct to observe how that which has been named “gift” (by Mauss and others) can very easily cause as much or more harm than help, one wonders if a more pure gift fares any better. The recipient is appalled and offended. The giver is judged and condemned.
There Was No Third Way
As I walked through the wilderness of this world, I lighted on a certain place where was a den, and laid me down in that place to sleep; and as I slept, I dreamed a dream.
I was standing with a crowd of people and two roads stretched out before us. The first road was broad and smooth. It was well-lit. The second road was narrow and rough and shrouded in darkness. The roads were not side-by-side. Rather, the broad way passed over the narrow way, and the narrow way passed below the broad way.
Those who entered the broad way quickly established property boundaries. The set up fences and built homes. They went into their homes and then never came out. The spent their days updating their Twitter feeds, friending or unfriending people on facebook, and ordering items from ebay. All the goods they ordered were delivered in giant crates that were heli-dropped into their yards. The same is true of the housing extensions they developed. The choppers would come and lower down another wing to their house, or another level for their highrise. Thump. A package would land, a person would scurry from his or her home — they all lived by themselves — gather the goods and run back inside.
The broad way was also a dead end. A giant wall was at the end of the street. Those who entered into it never left it.
I turned to examine the narrow way that ran below the broad way. Here I discovered something completely different. There were no fences, walls, or properties here. There was neither time nor space for such things because the people on the narrow way were holding up the way that passed above them. They would all take turns — those whose turn it was to hold things up, and those whose turn it was to rest and play, and those whose turn it was to care for, massage, and feed those who had just rotated off of holding things up. There were not a lot of goods here. The helicopters could only drop things on the top level and not much trickled down. People were poor and poorly dressed. There was a lot of suffering here… but there was also a lot of joy. Many of the people whom I have met in my journeys were down here acting as pillars of the earth above them. Some were single-handedly supporting large sections so that others could rest.
I also noticed that the narrow way did not end where the broad way ended above it. Rather, it continued on into a land that was flowing with milk and honey. Yet none of the people on the narrow way passed into that land. If they had done so, they would have made it more difficult for those who would have been left behind. If people had continued on, those left behind risked being slowly crushed to death. Plus, I observed, beyond a sense of duty or obligation, people remained because they loved the company of those who were with them.
However, the more goods that were ordered and delivered by the helicopters, the more housing extensions that were built, and the more things that were accumulated on the broad way, the heavier things became and the greater the burden became on the backs of those on the narrow way. More people got injured, less people were able to rest or play. More and more people were spending longer and longer amounts of time holding things up.
Then somebody new appeared upon the narrow way. This person single-handedly lifted the burden of the broad way from the shoulders of those who were on the narrow way. With the burden removed from their backs, all those on the narrow way began to pass out the far side, into the land flowing with milk and honey. Soon, only this one person was left in the narrow way. This person walked to the far side and, with a shrug of the shoulders, tossed up the burden that was being carried and entered into the new land on the heels of the others.
There was then a tremendous crash as the broad way came falling down. Everything was smashed in the fall. Houses collapsed and caught fire. Those who lived (alone) within them were caught in the rubble. They were wounded and the air was filled with their screams.
The one who had dropped them did not look back or heed their cries.
But then something incredible happened. Those from the narrow way, who were moving into the new land, did hear the cries of those in the rubble and they stopped what they were doing and, in one mass, came flocking back. They sifted through the rubble, they tended to the wounded, they wiped the tears of those who were weeping, and they helped all those who had been caught in the collapse into the new land with them. Not one person was left behind.
And then I awoke from my dream.
(And, so, you see, I opened with the first sentence from Pilgrim’s Progress because it seems that my dreams are as sublte as Bunyan’s… that is, they are not subtle at all.)
Ideology Lecture
[This is the transcript of a lecture I recently delivered for a course a friend of mine is teaching at Regent College, Vancouver. Any kind of engagement with this material is most welcome.]
Lecture 12/Jun/25 – Our Ideological Captivity
Introduction
The subject of this lecture is “ideology.” “Ideology” is a loaded term that has meant a lot of different things – when it was first introduced during the French revolution, it was used as to discuss “the science or study of ideas” then it came to denote a kind of false consciousness or set of false beliefs (as in Marx’s classic text, A Critique of the German Ideology) and, while it retains much of that sense in popular-level discourse, it now is used as a way of referring to “the set of beliefs by which a group or society orders reality so as to render it intelligible.” I will begin with this definition when I consider the form and role of “ideology” within our current context.
Before I get into that, however, we need to note that there is no non-ideological way to speak about ideology. What I am about to say is not a series of “facts” or an expression of some kind of “detached objectivity” but is, instead, a particular ideological perspective on ideology. This is inescapable, in part, as I hope to demonstrate, because all language is inherently ideological. Similarly, we ourselves, as subjects, are also inherently ideologically constituted beings. As far as I can tell, there is no escaping ideology – we cannot get around it or outside of it. We can only engage it from within. Therefore, I will present one perspective on the matter – the one I find most compelling – but it is up to you all to determine if this position is one that you find persuasive.
Having said that, I will explore five theses within this lecture:
- Ideology is that which creates and recreates our world every day.
- People – especially those with power – have a vested interest in creating a certain kind of world – one that favours their power.
- People with power employ a number of tools in order to impose the world they wish to inhabit onto others.
- The powerful are largely successful in imposing their world onto others, and most people, either willingly or acritically, accept the world created for them by the powerful.
- We will propose an alternative ideology that creates our world in a way that does not favour the powerful but favours those who are oppressed and abandoned by the powerful.
Most of my focus today will be on the first four points. Much of the rest of the course will be devoted to filling out the fifth point.
Continue reading
Censorship and Anarchism
[My last post sparked a somewhat polemical exchange over on the “Jesus Radicals” website between myself and Andy Alexis-Baker. Today I discovered that Andy, a blog administrator of that site, deleted the comments and so I posted another comment to try and make peace while also addressing some further issues of concern. That comment is what is duplicated here along with the email I received from Andy in reply to it. I want to post it here because I think it is important for us to consider this issues publicly — how does censoring our comrades fit within an anarchist or a Christian tradition? How do polemics fit into the ways in which we relate to one another? What happens when we share common goals and dreams but have trouble communicating with one another? Below is my comment.]
It is worth observing that a comment thread mostly between myself and Andy Alexis-Baker was deleted from this post (with no notice or explanation given to me). It was deleted shortly after a third party remarked how s/he had appreciated both of our blogs but hated the way that we were talking so snarkily to each other and pointed out how at least some Conservative Christians can get along with each other whereas we so-called radical Christians seem to have a hard time of doing that (my paraphrase). That was the last comment I saw in the thread before it disappeared. A few things are worth noting here:
First of all, this kind of censoring out of disagreeable disagreements is in direct opposition to anarchist approaches to speech and dialogue and, therefore, seems odd on a blog that claims to espouse that way of thinking. This approach, of course, if why General Assemblies at some Occupy locations have appeared to be drawn out and tedious to some but necessary to others (including the anarchists who helped to bring those GAs to North America). Anarchists generally believe in avoiding censorship, even when that means they get presented in a less glowing light ((it’s hard to be anti-authoritarian yet approve of censoring your comrades simply because you don’t like their tone).
Secondly, erasing the comment thread after the comment made by the third party mentioned above is a way of hiding the very real differences that exist between people who share common beliefs, commitments and struggles. Just because two people identify in different ways with anarchism, postcolonialism, Christianity, etc., doesn’t mean they are going to agree on all the details and it doesn’t mean they are always going to voice their disagreement with one another in a cordial manner. There is no point in whitewashing the public record in order to try and hide this… otherwise, if or when people actually choose to get involved with people like this in “real life” they could very quickly end up becoming disillusioned. People are people. Sometimes we talk to one another like lovers and sometimes we talk to one another like petulant children, and sometimes we even do that with those who share a lot of things in common with us. That’s how it goes, and I don’t see the sense of hiding it.
At the end of the day I believe that Andy and I are struggling to achieve similar goals and are dreaming similar dreams. I wouldn’t be surprised if we’re involved in similar actions. Of course, I don’t really know him in any way (apart from the persona he employs on this blog) but I see no reason why I should not wish and pray and hope the first for him. I am being completely sincere when I say that I hope the road will rise up to meet him. Which gets to the third point I want to make: even when we do disagree with each other, and use words that are intended to provoke the other person, it should be this recognition of what we have in common — these goals and dreams and maybe even actions — that both permits us to have the space to go at each other a little and permits us to come together and wish one another the best when all is said and done. That is to say, we need to learn to negotiate conflict amongst ourselves and, once again, simply erasing words from the record is not the way to do this. It is, instead, a habit we have inherited from the authorities whom we are trying to resist.
So, hey, I’m not sure which blog administrator chose to take that course of action, but I hope you will permit this comment to stand. Blessing to you all, and Andy most especially. Keep fighting the good fight.
[Postscript: here is the email I received from Andy after he deleted this comment:]
Dan,
If you wish to continue that line of comments form the Jesus Radicals site
you can do so via email. It is not going to remain on the JR site, nor
will any further comments along those lines. Call it what you want, but it
is not relevant to the post at hand, you can be rude to me over email.
Maybe I’ll read it, maybe I won’t.
Andy
While You're Talking About Revolution, I'll Be Over Here Having a Bud
[This post is a self-critical response to a poem posted over at “Jesus Radicals” entitled: “The Revolution Will Not Serve Budweiser“. I wrote it before I read their latest posting, another poem, entitlted: “Revolutionaries” but I imagine the line of thought is just as applicable to that post as to the previous poem.]
While You’re Talking About Revolution, I’ll be Over Here Having a Bud
Give strong drink to one who is perishing, and wine to those in bitter distress; let them drink and forget their poverty, and remember their misery no more. ~Proverbs 31.6-7
- The eco-conscious-anti-capitalist-postcolonial-intentionally-communal-Christian-anarchist-poets are talking about revolutions.
- They’re talking to us about opting out of drinking on posts available courtesy of Apple and PC and transnational telecommunications companies.
- Hardware made by child slaves who live in dorms with mesh over the windows in order to create lower suicide rates.
- Companies that take revenue gained from North American Christian anarchists in order to murder anyone who actually engages in genuine revolutionary activities elsewhere in the world.
- (Has nobody read Les Justes? “Il dit que la poésie est révolutionnaire.” “La bombe seule est révolutionnaire.” Can I get an Amen?)
- (Or the lament Psalms? “How can we sing the LORD’s song in this land?”)
- (Or Adorno? “Nach Auschwitz ein Gedicht zu schreiben ist barbarisch.” If that is the case, what of poetry written during Auschwitz… written not by the inmates but by the guards and the surrounding civilian population? Because, really, whose side do you think we’re on?)
- And they pile burden upon burden upon the backs of others, while never once coming close to following their own standards
- But they look righteous.
- And they sound righteous.
- And I think I saw a picture of them all at a protest.
- Or an Occupy assembly.
- Maybe even on an Ignatian retreat.
- Or on a sustainable farm.
- (All photos taken from their iPhones.)
- And they include Romero
- And the Berrigans
- And Kropotkin
- And Malatesta
- Amongst their interests on Facebook.
- And their blog even has a banner that says “I Support the Occupy Movement”.
- (Does anybody remember half a dozen years ago when everybody was putting a “Make Poverty History” banner on their blogs? How did that turn out?)
- In doing so, they also pile burden upon burden upon the back of people who are poor.
- People who are oppressed.
- People who don’t have the money for eco-farming.
- People who don’t have the money to shop anywhere but Wal-Mart in order to try and make their kids feel happy at Christmas time when all the other kids in their class are coming to school with shiny new presents.
- (And with shiny happy pictures taken on the iPhones they got from their parents.)
- People who don’t get invited on Ignatian retreats because they don’t sit still.
- And they talk too much.
- And they’ve been disagnosed with a personality disorder.
- And they just make you feel awkward.
- And bored.
- And drained.
- And pretty soon you just want to avoid them.
- Because despite your valiant six hours of investment they aren’t getting any easier to “deal with.”
- Plus they stink.
- And they might be contagious.
- Or have bedbugs in their clothes.
- And you don’t want them to steal your laptop or smartphone.
- And, shoot, this also piles burdens onto the back of people who drink.
- And bang herion.
- And smoke crack.
- And sell themselves on the street.
- Or in hotels.
- Or online.
- Or in alleyways
- Or sell other people.
- So, listen, man, I’ll tell you why we drink.
- Mike drinks because his wife committed suicide.
- Where were the eco-conscious-anti-capitalist-postcolonial-intentionally-communal-Christian anarchist-poets? Checking their Twitter feeds?
- Molly drinks because her kids were killed in a car accident.
- Where were the eco-conscious-anti-capitalist-postcolonial-intentionally-communal-Christian-anarchist-poets? Seeing if anybody commented on their latest blog post?
- Taylor drinks because she was roofied and raped at a party.
- Where were the eco-conscious-anti-capitalist-postcolonial-intentionally-communal-Christian-anarchist-poets? In the other room telling some poor overly polite sucker trapped as a captive audience why they don’t drink?
- Dale drinks because he can’t get opiates for his chronic pain because the doctors think he’s an addict.
- Where were the eco-conscious-anti-capitalist-postcolonial-intentionally-communal-Christian-anarchist-poets? Off building the Christian Anarchists World of Tomorrow Today Theme Park?
- Pat drinks because his parents kicked him out when he came out to them.
- Where were the eco-conscious-anti-capitalist-postcolonial-intentionally-communal-Christian anarchist-poets? Working on signs for a march?
- Sarah drinks because her uncle got her pregnant and she had to give birth to a dead child in the backroom of the family home so that nobody would know what had happened.
- Where were the eco-conscious-anti-capitalist-postcolonial-intentionally-communal-Christian-anarchist-poets? Discussing the latest from Naomi Klein in their reading group?
- Dave drinks because he was torn away from his parents, placed in a residential school, abused by the priests, and taught that he was, oddly enough, extinct yet still alive.
- Where were the eco-conscious-anti-capitalist-postcolonial-intentionally-communal-Christian-anarchist-poets? Sorting their recycling into the proper bins?
- Laurie drinks because it’s the only thing that enables her to fall asleep at night, after everything she has seen and done.
- Where were the eco-conscious-anti-capitalist-postcolonial-intentionally-communal-Christian-anarchist-poets? Heatedly debating if organic, gluten-free, microbrews could be accepted as donations to the community?
- Mike drinks because his wife committed suicide.
- I’ll tell you something else. I’ll tell you why I drink.
- I drink because I’m friends with Mike and Molly and Taylor and Dale and Pat and Sarah and Dave and Laurie and a multitude of others.
- But most of all, more than anything else, you want to know why I drink?
- I drink because of you.
- I drink because you talk and you read and you analyze and you blog… “Revolution! Ya Basta! Enough is enough!”… and you talk and you read and you analyze… and you talk and you read… and you talk… and you talk… and you talk.
- I drink because of you.
- But I don’t see no revolution. And I don’t see you doing anything revolutionary either. Nothing close to it. You and all the eco-conscious-anti-capitalist-postcolonial-intentionally-communal-Christian-anarchist-poets.
- (Debord taught us about the society of the spectacle and, look, at lot of what you say looks and sounds pretty spectacular.)
- (Beyond Debord, Baudrillard argued that even the spectacle has now faded and been replaced with the simulacrum and, I gotta say, a lot of the revolution you talk about sure looks and sounds like a copy without an original.)
- (Debord taught us about the society of the spectacle and, look, at lot of what you say looks and sounds pretty spectacular.)
- It makes a person wonder sometimes:
- Maybe this isn’t really about revolution.
- Maybe it’s about trying to create a pretty little guilt-free space for you and your friends.
- Maybe it’s about having your cake and eating it, too.
- Gaining all the benefits of middle-class, white, male, Western, Christian, privilege
- (I’ve mentioned smartphones already, right?)
- Without paying any price.
- (Apart from conference and retreat fees which a lot of us cannot afford.)
- Without making any real sacrifices.
- Gaining all the benefits of middle-class, white, male, Western, Christian, privilege
- But maybe you’re not succeeding.
- Maybe you’re still filled with guilt.
- So maybe you go to parties and talk to girls about why you don’t drink beer.
- Maybe that makes them feel like shit for drinking beer.
- Maybe that makes you feel righteous.
- Maybe you transfer some of your guilt onto them.
- Or maybe that just gets them to make-out with you and you can forget about things for awhile.
- Because, boy, for a middle-class White Christian male, you sure sound like an enlightened postcolonial feminist radical and that’s kinda hot!
- (Lord knows, we’ve seen enough men playing that card in activist circles.)
- Because, boy, for a middle-class White Christian male, you sure sound like an enlightened postcolonial feminist radical and that’s kinda hot!
- So maybe you go to parties and talk to girls about why you don’t drink beer.
- Maybe you’re still filled with guilt.
- Maybe you know you’re not making a difference.
- Maybe you know the revolution you speak of and dream of ain’t gonna happen.
- At least not on your watch.
- (At least not if you can help it?)
- At least not on your watch.
- Because maybe you don’t want it to happen.
- Maybe you like your smartphone too much.
- Maybe you like living life out of prison without a criminal record.
- Still haven’t gotten around to the eco-friendly backpacking tour in Costa Rica and a criminal record could really intefere with that, ya know?
- And how am I going to get to that “Religion and Radicalism” conference in Germany next year?
- Plus, the job market is hard enough these days, forget about it if you’re an ex-con.
- Because, hey, how many eco-conscious-anti-capitalist-postcolonial-intentionally-communal-Christian-anarchist-poets are being tortured in Bagram?
- How many have been picked-up by the Department of Homeland Security?
- How many are on a watch list as potential terrorist threats?
- Because I’ll tell you something else:
- Jesus died as a State-executed terrorist.
- So did Paul.
- So did a host of other early members of that movement.
- And other members who identified with that movement throughout history.
- When you all start going to prison, when you all start getting disappeared, when you all start surfacing in torture centres, well, then I’ll know you are serious.
- When that happens, I’ll sober up.
- I wouldn’t even be interested in drinking then.
- Until then, however, I’ll make you a deal. I won’t begrudge you your eco-conscious-anti-capitalist-postcolonial-intentionally-communal-Christian-anarchist poems, communities, conferences, and blog posts, if you won’t begrudge me my booze.
- We’re all getting by one way or another. And it’s hard to tell if your addiction is more helpful or harmful than mine.
- But look, man, I know it’s hard getting by. It ain’t fucking easy (if you’ll pardon a little more French in this post). So, do your thing, and I’ll do mine and we’ll all live and die and help and harm and often not know when were doing one or the other until we are all enfolded in the embrace of God.
- I’ll drink to that.
- And the next time I’m in the park with the fellas and the gals who gather there to drink Listerine or Colt 45 or whatever else people have gathered together, I’ll try to remember to pour a little out for you and the revolution you loved and lost.
- Cheers.
- And the next time I’m in the park with the fellas and the gals who gather there to drink Listerine or Colt 45 or whatever else people have gathered together, I’ll try to remember to pour a little out for you and the revolution you loved and lost.
Phil 1.1-30 (rough draft)
To the Philippians
(1.1) Paul and Timothy, slaves of none but the one true representative of God, the State-executed but divinely vindicated and resurrected terrorist, Jesus, to all those who have set themselves apart to join this movement — being in Philippi with an established counter-government.
(1.2) Grace to you and peace from God who now embraces and cares for us all — we, who are rejected by authorities who claim to be our fathers (yet who abandon us to poverty and misery and the laws of the occupiers, all the while telling us that we should be grateful that our so-called immorality has not made our situation worse than it is!) — and the State-executed but resurrected terrorist, Jesus, who is now the one true divinely elected representative of us all.
(1.3) I thank my God with every remembrance of you, and (1.4) always make joyful supplications on your behalf, with every supplication that I make (1.5) in view of your active and ongoing participation in this movement which embodies the good news of Jesus’ victory over all the powers of Sin and Death which are so prominently expressed in the terrain, the laws, the charity, the boundaries, the representatives and the “fathers” of our “fatherlands.” From the beginning until now you have actively participated in spreading this movement and this good news and (1.6) I am confident that the one who began this good (albeit illegal) work in you will continue to bring it to completion until the day of our representative and liberator, Jesus.
(1.7) It is just and right for me to think this on behalf of you all because you have me in your heart, for you all participate in my grace, both in my bonds — as I am now imprisoned as one who has gone throughout the Empire and established assemblies (what they take to be “terror cells”) in many of the major cities in the East — and in the defense and vindication of the good news. (1.8) For God is my witness, how I yearn for you all with the love of the one true divinely elected representative of us all, Jesus. (1.9) And this I pray, that your love may ever increase in deeper knowledge and all perception, (1.10) so that you may be able to approve superior things — for how we have learned that those things that we have been taught to think of as superior (things like laws and charity and fathers and rulers and philanthropists), are actually inferior and how hard it is to shake this way of thinking now — and that you may be undefiled (by participation in any of those things that the world of the empire takes to be “superior”) and without blame (by refusing to participate in those practices that the world of the empire takes to be “superior”) in the day of our representative and liberator, (1.11) having been filled with the fruit of justice through Jesus our representative and liberator to the glory and praise of God.
(1.12) I want you to know, beloved siblings, that what has happened to me has actually advanced the good news, (1.13) as it has become known throughout the whole entire military-political complex where I am imprisoned and to everyone else that my (State and law sanctioned) imprisonment is for a liberator who was also imprisoned, and even killed, at the behest of both State and law; (1.14) furthermore, many other members of our movement have become confident because of my bonds and are more willing to dare to speak fearlessly about the seditious content of our speech and our lives.
(1.15) Some make this proclamation, a proclamation made be those who act as official heralds of our representative and liberator (a surprising king over all kings!) out of envy and strife but some make it with good intentions. (1.16) These proclaim our representative and liberator out of love, knowing that I have been appointed to defend the counter-imperial and counter-intuitive good news; (1.17) the others make proclamations about our representative and liberator out of a sense of rivalry, not purely (they are defiled by their acceptance of and participation within notions and practices of “superiority” that we have already rejected) hoping to stir up trouble as I am in bonds (perhaps they believe that the authorities will be more eager to execute me if they catch on to the full content of what we are saying and doing and the full scope of our movement?). (1.18) But what does it matter? In every way, whether in pretense or in truth, our representative and liberator is proclaimed, and in this I rejoice.
And I will continue to rejoice, (1.19) for I know that this will turn out for my deliverance through your supplications and the bountiful supply of the spirit of Jesus, the state-executed by divinely vindicated and resurrected terrorist. (1.20) It is my earnest expectation and hope that I will not be put to shame but with all courage as always even now our representative and liberator will be magnified in my body, whether through life or through death (which means, of course, that I will continue to embrace shame as honour and the shameful as honourable!). (1.21) For to me, to live is the representative and liberator — to know him and to imitate him — and to die is gain — for then my imitation will be complete and I will be able to expect the same divine vindication that he received. (1.22) If I am to live in the flesh, that means fruitful labour for me — continuing to build this movement — and I do not know which I prefer. (1.23) I am hard pressed from both sides, my desire is to depart and be with our representative and liberator, for that is much better; (1.24) but to remain in the flesh is more necessary for you and for the movement as a whole. (1.25) Since I have been persuaded of this, I know that I will remain and continue with you all, so that you may progress in joyful faithfulness (even if that is a faithfulness unto death at the hands of the Powers), (1.26) and that you may boast again in Jesus, our representative and liberator, when I am present with you once again.
(1.27) Only live your life in a manner that is worthy of the good news of the victory won by our representative and liberator — which means embodying socioeconomic and theopolitical practices and relationships that are opposed to the practices and relationships that ended up producing the legal execution of our Lord — so that, whether I come and see you or am absent and hear things concerning you, you are standing firmly in the spirit of solidarity, with one psyche, wrestling and waging war for the embodied content of the good news (1.28) and not being frightened in anything by your opponents (who all too often have wealth and power and even the law on their sides!), for their opposition to you is a proof of their destruction (as enemies of the God who vindicated and raised our representative and liberator, Jesus) and it is also proof of your salvation (as you faithfully follow in the trajectory established by Jesus). This is God’s doing. (1.29) Because to you it was given, on behalf of our representative and liberator, not only to have faith in him, but also to suffer on his behalf (1.30) since you are having the same struggle that you saw I had and now hear that I still have — that is to say, since you, too, are now being treated as terrorists and threats the the very grounds of civilization.
Report on Churches Offering Sanctuary to People Experiencing Homelessness
[The following is a report that I prepared for a church in Sarnia, Ontario, that had been running a “Men’s Mission” — i.e. an overnight low barrier shelter program for men experiencing homelessness — out of their church building. They had been doing this by receiving a temporary zoning in order to run what is officially designated as a “Men’s Mission” within the Bylaws of this city. Due to a combination of factors — discriminatory attitudes and unfounded fears expressed by well-to-do neighbours — which were then treated as logical arguments! — not to mention public criticisms made by the Executive Director of the only other shelter in town — which is high barrier and had a vested financial interest in seeing the church-based program closed — the city refused to extend the zoning of the Men’s Mission and ordered the church to stop running the shelter program. The church then appealed this directive to a higher level of authority — something known as the Ontario Municipal Board [OMB]. This is when I entered the picture and drafted the following document for the church. As you can see the church has dropped their appeal and will continue to offer a place to stay for men who are experiencing homelessness as a part of their religious rights and freedoms. Below is the document I prepared regarding all of this. I am posting it here now that the church has gone public with its decision because it may be of use to any other religious group that goes through a comparable struggle.]
1. Statement of Appeal Withdrawal
The River City Vineyard (RCV) has made the decision to withdraw its pending appeal with the Ontario Municipal Board (OMB) regarding the temporary zoning it had received in order to operate a space classified as a “Men’s Mission” within the church at 260 Mitton Street North.
2. Reason for Withdrawing While Continuing to Offer Sanctuary and Shelter to Those Experiencing Homelessness
The RCV is withdrawing its appeal because it has determined that the building designation for the property at 260 Mitton Street North is all that is needed in order to continue to offer sanctuary and shelter to people who are experiencing homelessness. Therefore, the RCV will continue to offer these services to those who are in need of them, but will not be offering these services as a “Men’s Mission” (zoned UR1-27-T3) but will, instead, will be offering these services based upon its building being designated a “church (place of worship)” (zoned UR1-27).
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On Redundancy as Gift: A Resurrection Sunday Meditation
“Why do you call yourself ‘Beloved’?”
“In the dark my name is Beloved.”
~Toni Morrison, Beloved.
Having begun with the redundancy of the cross, we arrived at the redundancy of life — life as redundancy. What are the implications of this?
Well, once we get over our dismay about not being a necessity for anyone or any thing, we can begin to understand that redundancy and superfluity point to excess. Excess is over-abundance. Over-abundance, far from being worthless, is a gift. Recognizing our lives as redundant does not lead us to conclude that they are meaningless. Rather, this recognition enables us to understand that our lives are gifts — crazy, excessive, unnecessary gifts — given to ourselves and to each other.
Living as gifts, and life as a gift, means that who we strive to be and what we strive to do may be entirely removed from the domain of duty — if we are not needed then we are not bound by duty. Instead, we are free. Free to be and do what we desire (and not what we “need”) to be and do. I am free to love my children not because I must (in which case I am not free to love them at all), but because I want to. I am free to be a gift to others and free to understand that every living redundant moment and deed is a beautiful gift to me as well.
This is the domain of grace. Dying to ourselves-as-necessities is a dying to any and every rule of law and a resurrection unto the anarchy of grace. The Law wants us to think of ourselves as necessities — we must be and do this or that, and if we do not be or do this or that, then it is appropriate for us to be disciplined and punished. As necessities we are enslaved. Furthermore, the logic maintained by this rule of law then meshes seamlessly with the logic of contemporary capitalism — as workers, we need to earn money in order to consume superfluous items that are sold to us as though they were necessities (You need this credit card to be free, you need this car to have a healthy family, you need this scent to be desired by the other sex, etc.). This is the central lie in all of it. We can see through part of it — at the end of the day, we know that we don’t really need a lot of these things — but few of us can see through the whole of it — that we, ourselves, are not needed.
However, when we embrace ourselves as redundant, we are liberated from the law and from wage-slavery (working-to-consume), or from any other imperative. Instead of obeying, working, and consuming, we are free to love and to be loved. We are free to be joyful. We are free to be gifts to one another and to our own selves. Everything becomes grace. All the way down.
This is the message of Easter. As I stated at the end of my Good Friday meditation:
God dies every day for (i.e. because of) the sins of the world. That is God’s way of being with us. The crazy message of Easter is that this dying is not futile. And if the dying of God is meaningful then perhaps our living-unto-death is also meaningful. Perhaps death is not the last word for us. Perhaps, like the cross of Christ, we are redundant but not without meaning.
Our living-unto-death is not without significance. We are redundant but not without meaning.
Hence, the resurrection of Jesus throws open the tomb of the living (which I mentioned at the end of my Holy Saturday post). The stone is now rolled away and all of us are free. Free to love. Free to be loved. Free to play. Free to rejoice. The grave has been thrown open. It is up to us to choose if we want to follow Jesus out of it.
On the Redundancy of the Cross: A Good Friday Meditation
What, precisely, does it mean to say that our sense of morality and justice is reduced to the language of a business deal? What does it mean when we reduce moral obligations to debts? … A debt is the obligation to pay a certain sum of money… This allows debts to become simple, cold, and impersonal–which, in turn, allows them to be transferable…
…a topic that will be explored at length in these pages, is money’s capacity to turn morality into a matter of impersonal arithmetic–and by doing so, to justify things that would otherwise seem outrageous or obscene…
However, when one looks a little closer, one discovers that these two elements–the violence and the quantification–are intimately linked. In fact it’s almost impossible to find one without the other.
~David Graeber, Debt: The First 500 Years, 13-14.
A particularly fine example of those outrageous or obscene outcomes, intertwining violence and quantification, are substitutionary atonement theories proposed by Christian theologians regarding the crucifixion of Jesus. From such a perspective, humanity is in infinite debt to God but is incapable of paying that debt. Therefore, God chooses to pay the debt himself (yes, the male pronoun is appropriate for God in this theory) by sacrificing his son or, from a different angle, by laying down his own life, and his death then abolishes or pays or satisfies or nullifies this debt and makes possible the forgiveness of sins, reconciliation with God, and so on. Variations of this go back to the very origins of Christianity — references to Jesus as a sacrificial Passover lamb can be found in the some of the earliest Christian texts found in the New Testament, “substitution” and “satisfaction” atonement theories are heavily favoured by the streams of Christianity that like to refer to themselves as “orthodox” (even if the various “orthodox” parties also have a history of condemning one another as “heretics”).
Sin as debt… owing God… perhaps with the devil acting as the repo man… quantification and violence… justifying obscene actions (like killing one’s own son, like suggesting killing an innocent atones for the sins of many, like suggesting that this is the only way things could play out)… all these things are woven together in such atonement theories.
I can’t say that it makes much or any sense to me. Does God really have to sacrifice his own son, does Jesus really have to die, in order to restore right relationships with us? How does that work exactly? What kind of God would do this? Who chooses to organize things in this way? Or did God make some sort of gentleman’s agreement with the devil and this was his (yes, his) only out? Despite all the suffering and harm that would happen to the world, God kept his end of the deal, but then forced the devil to overplay his hand (causing him to lose his “right” to humanity)? Really? Again, what would this say about God? What kind of God would this be? Why would the devil by given any “right” to humanity?
For a long time, I tended not to worry about such things because I favoured the Christus Victor atonement theory (which harkens back to the earlier ransom theory of Origen). From this perspective, the cross of Christ wasn’t so much about satisfying God’s wrath, or abolishing a debt, but was, instead, the moment when God triumphed over all the coordinated powers of Sin and Death (and the devil, too, but I focused mostly on the former two — with Sin being nothing more than the physical and material outworkings of Death in the world). I was content to leave things at that for several years and not worry too much about it (because, after all, this theory has problems, too: for example, what kind of God would choose to go about winning a victory in this way? Why wait til then? Wouldn’t this mean that God had been defeated up until this point? Why would God permit that?). To be honest, atonement theories related to Jesus (much like justification theories related to Paul) haven’t captured my interest all that much. How God saves us hasn’t been an intense area of interest for me, that God saves us — and may save us in the here and now — has captured my attention to a far greater degree.
However, a few things got me rethinking this subject — not least, Graeber’s book, which made me ask: what if I think about this outside of the monetary language of business and commerce? — and asking myself what I actually do believe about all of this.
The truth is that I don’t actually accept any of the standard atonement theories. They don’t make sense to me (including the moral influence theory which, although it has more going for it than substitutionary theories, still has its problems). Here’s the catch: I can’t imagine that anything changed — at least as far as God was concerned — on the cross or after the cross. Instead, what we see in the stories of the cross and resurrection is the way in which God chooses to be when in the company of a world that is broken and marked by Sin and Death. What we see, if we believe the stories, is the way God has always been from the beginning of creation. And what is this way? The way of self-giving love, of solidarity, of kenosis, and the pursuit of the beloved. What we see is that God is with us and there is no place so low, so terrible, or so godforsaken, that God is not also with us there. Not only that, but God is with us in order to love us, to make us new, and give us life. All that the cross of Jesus “does” is provide us with a particularly stark example of this. Hence, the cross is redundant to the extent that it does not inaugurate this way of God being with us — it just helps some of us to (finally) get the point that this is how God always has been and always will be. It is an apocalypse, a revelation of that which is, not an event that changes everything that was or will be.
Therefore, from this perspective, Jesus dies for the sins of the world — not because sin used to prevent God from saving us and now longer does so — but because that is what God chooses to do when in relationship with a world defined by Sin and, most especially, Death. God dies everyday for (i.e. because of) the sins of the world. That is God’s way of being with us. The crazy message of Easter is that this dying is not futile. And if the dying of God is meaningful then perhaps our living-unto-death is also meaningful. Perhaps death is not the last word for us. Perhaps, like the cross of Christ, we are redundant but not without meaning.