Abstraction, Production, and the Possibility of Cosmopolitanism



Last week I wrote a post entitled “Nature, Nihilism, Nationalism, Morality, and the Existence of Superiority.” I’ve continued to ponder those same musings.

I’ve wondered to myself “What is the actual value of ‘nationalism’?”

This is at once both a genuine and a rhetorical question. (Here my thinking is both scattered an nonlinear, please bear with me).

Humanity has persisted primariy because of its capacity as a Tool Being. For example, our survival has been predicated upon the following ‘tools’:

  1. abstraction – the ability to create meaning-laden ‘symbols’ and ideas (language, mathematical notation, etc.)
  2. cooperation – the complex creation of ‘social’ life throug the establishment of norms and values (also abstractions).
  3. production – that is, the ability to create ‘tools'(/technology) – both material and non-material (symbols, ideas, norms, values, ect.)

In this regard, perhaps above all, the key to our survival is our neural plasticity. That is, our ability to not oly cognize but, to ‘re’-cognize, examine, observe, evaluate, and change/adapt ourselves, our ‘tools’ and ‘tool’ methodologies, i.e. our symbols, ideas, norms, and values.

A nation-state, for example, is but an abstraction, a non-material tool, its underpinnings being only symbolic. It is a ‘Production’ of ‘Abstraction’ and ‘Cooperation’. The nation-state is a combinative outcome (production) of ‘social’ (cooperative) Institutions (abstraction); the combination of the ‘state’ (Political Institution) and the ‘nation’ (Cultural Institution). Even its borders are non-material and are an arbitrary creation. No doubt like any other symbolic product of tool creation, it was an attempt to serve a purpose but, at what prce? At what cost? Has the ‘end’ justified the means? It has certainly not been without its faults. It has been and continues to be historically rife with tension, terror, and turmoil. Perhaps, it is a tool/technology that has out lived its usefulness, especially given the immense economic and ‘ecological’ disasters we are facing at present.

Rather than attempt to continue to ‘cement’ and ‘concretize’ a non-material notion, perhaps we should begin to ‘plasticize’ such cognitions, re-evaluate their performance, and make the necessary adaptations. Perhaps, a return (of sorts) is in order, a return and re-invention of the thought of Diogenes, a reinvigoration of a kind of cosmopolitanism, in which one’s primary identification is neither the nation-state nor the city-state but, to the polis of the cosmos, citizens of the world.

However, I don’t mean this in some idealistic or utopia way. In proposing a kind of cosmopolitanism I’m not advocating cultural relativism (multiculturalism/’tolerance’) – whch suggests that all cultures and all cultural practices have equal vaue.This is an ideological tool for hegemonic utilization which seeks to establish something of an implicitly or explicitly homgoneous mono-culture. In many cases, the multiculturalist endeavor actually avoids ‘difference’ and fails to honestly or authentically acknowledge the Otherness of the other and the corresponding inequalities. In this way multiculturalism actually serves as a means to maintain the status-qou. Multiculturalism functions as a kind of invisible imperialism and a cloaked colonialism supporting dominant culture (cosumeristic globalization, perhaps?).

By saying that I question the supremacy/superiority of some cultures or doubting that there are superior cultures I am not proposing that they are all of equal vaue.

On one hand, I’m attempting to avoid ethnocentrism, which attempts to judge another cuture by the standards of one’s own. This impairs sociological analysis, and what is needed is the furthered development of a sociological uderstading of culture.

On the other hand, I’m acknowledging that the atrocities denounced by the ‘tolerance’ of multiculturalism is, in fact, implicitly persistent within the muticuturalist’s culture. For instance, one may openly protest the malevolent sexism within the barbarous act of female genital mutilation but, will probably have nothing to say about the litanty of mutilations known as Plastic Surgery performed and undergone for no other reason than as an attempt to conform one’s body to the Western notions of sexiness, masquerading as a free-choice.

“The thing to do,”as Zizek explains, “is to change the entire field, introducing a totally different Universal, that of an antagonistic struggle which does not take place between particular communities, but splits from within each community, so that the ‘trans-cultural’ link between communities is that of a shared struggle”.

The point, then, of this re-invented cosmopolitanism is not  cultures of ‘equal value’ but, equal struggle. It is the universality of struggle and power relations. The universal unification of struggle betwen more and less advantaged groups. Universal Citizens of universal struggle universally united by the emancipatory struggle towards universal liberation.



What to do When Something You Love is Part of the Problem?

The past year and a half of my life has been tumultuous at best. It has been the epitome of what Shakespeare defined as the “winter of our discontent”. It has been a time marked almost exclusively by loss and misfortune. I’ve lost my job,having been laid off twice. I’ve lost my home. I’ve lost financial security. I’ve lost friends and relationships. I’m at the verge of losing my marriage. I’ve lost hope. I’ve lost belief in damn near everything. I’ve lost mental stability and above all, I’ve lost myself somewhere along the way, that is, if I had ever truly found myself to begin with. I’ve had to come to terms with what I’ve been denying for most of my life, the fact that I am clinically depressed. That diagnosis didn’t exactly come as a shock and it certainly is far from a new development. I’ve had bouts with dark periods and reoccurring instances of intense melancholy for almost as long as I can remember but, I had never been officially diagnosed, nor had I ever sought treatment until now. The maelstrom that has become my everyday life has simply exacerbated these already prevalent propensities.

I’ve recently started reading Jennifer Michael Hecht‘s book, The Happiness Myth, in it she gives an illustration that seems to all too accurately represent my experience here. She writes:

Consider that we all have an internal empty field at birth, and as we grow, we experience shocks in certain areas of the field, which we respond to by building up a great pile of stones in that spot, to protect ourselves from being hurt again. As time goes on, the inner field grows crowded with stone mounds. Moving around in such a field requires inventive choreography; and that dance is what a personality is. When life circumstances change, the situation turns worse, since none of your long-developed shortcuts and coping methods work now. You crash into walls. The crashing makes you go to therapy, but you go to therapy looking for new shortcuts that will allow you to navigate your city of rock piles under these different circumstances, and what the therapist wants to do is bring you to the pillars and help you unpile the stones. There is nothing in the mounds to be scared of anymore, so if you can just budge the rocks, you will come to have free reign of your mind, and of the world, again.

I conceded to therapy because, as Hecht explains, I have become claustrophobic in my ‘inner-field’ and all my coping maneuvers and mechanisms have failed me. It seems I can’t see the forest for the …pile of rocks. The horizon is blocked by the infinite burial mounds I’ve continually constructed. Underneath, something festers but, hasn’t died. I am full of the undead, things unresolved, a field of tell-tale hearts pounding, pulsing, beating, unceasingly under the floor boards of my psyche. And as Hecht illustrates, rather than providing me with the means to muffle the noise, to drown out the sound, or teaching a new methodology for avoiding the mound, my therapist is trying to give me the tools to pry up the floor boards and to unpile the rocks.

However, due to the previously mentioned financial instability I haven’t been able to afford to meet with my therapist frequently. In this regard, one of the things that has managed to bring me a bit of joy and grant me a welcomed and much needed distraction, as odd as it may sound, has been the World Cup matches. Within the 90 plus minutes of each match I can forgetfully sit in something closely resembling peace, blissfully ignorant, unaware, and mindful of the tragedy of where I am, temporarily pausing the sorrow and the pain of my context. Perhaps, even teleologically suspending my discontent, disdain, my regret, guilt, and my shame. Yet, even here there is something still being denied. Something dishonest.

Anyone moderately aware of current world events knows of the mass protests surrounding the World Cup and its oppressive presence within the country of Brazil. The Brazilian government’s involvement with FIFA has been nothing short of corrupt. They have torn down whole villages, wrongfully evicted families already impoverished by the injustices of an uncaring bureaucracy. People force-ably removed from their homes, thrown out into the streets with nothing and nowhere to go., weeping as they watch the demolition, witnessing the conversion, the transformation of what was once their neighborhood become stadium parking. All this done for the benefit of a sport that will line the pockets of those already bloated with wealth exploitatively acquired from the plight of the poor. And yet I tune in to every match. I watch religiously, all the while sweeping under the rug the terror and trauma of thousands of dislocated Brazilians grieving and mourning losses far greater than my own.

Does my loss justify my viewership?

Last week was the fourth of July and I was involved in a social media discussion regarding the compatibility/incompatibility of Christianity, the 4th of July, and the declaration of  Independence. I wrote the following:

I must greatly question the legitimacy of an an equality defined by a group of rich, white men who rose to prominence on the backs of slave labor. That fact must be recognized and addressed, to gloss over instances of hypocrisy that maintain oppression, would itself seem to be perpetuation of oppressive injustice. We can commemorate the accomplishments of the founding fathers and the biblical cannon but, equally we must exercise a radical honesty about the immensity of their faults, where they have fallen, and where they have unavoidably failed to live up to their own standards.

This, then, is my confession. My recognition of radical honesty. I am the oppressor. I am the 1%. I am one with the ones I propose to stand against. This is my apology. I am sorry that I tore down your homes so that my own pleasures could be served. I am sorry I took everything from you for my own entertainment. I am sorry that I destroyed everything you’ve worked for, everything you’ve earned, everything you’ve scraped together and scraped by on. I am sorry that I am part of the problem. I am sorry that I will still watch the next match. I am sorry that my apology isn’t enough. I am sorry that “I’m sorry” will never do, never make amends. I am sorry that I don’t know what else to do. I’m sorry…

Night Shift

Here’s another poem I’ve been working on. It still needs work but, let me know what you think.


With each new day I awake to the dawning of a brand new yesterday.

Tomorrow never arrives.

No hope on the horizon, just the eternal recurrence of all that has already been.

I am haunted by the ghost of tragedies past


Experiential Alterity…


In the forward to his book, As a Man Thinketh, James Allen writes that the objective of the text is to “stimulate men and women to the discovery and perception of the truth that – ‘They themselves are the makers of themselves’ by virtue of the thoughts which they choose and encourage” (5). Allen goes on to say that ” A man literally is what he thinks, his character being the complete sum of all his thoughts” (5).  These passages are quoted not to promote the traditional dichotomy of Cartesian mind/body dualism in which the material reality of one’s outer-world is pitted against one’s psychic inner-world. Instead, they are intended to indicate the “intra-active process” of “a material-semiotic matrix” (Tuana, 57). There is a reflexivity at work in which mind/body, thought/reality, attitude/life, are “performed-and-embodied” (Tuana, 60). In this regard, ‘life’ is “always already” ‘attitude’ and attitude/thought is “always already” reality/material. Nancy Tuana makes clear that “Reality is not composed of things-in-themselves or things-behind-phenomena, but things-in-phenomena” (61). Here, “Entities are not fixed, but emergent” (Tuana, 61).
Life is, as James explains, “present and alive…On freight-trains, on the decks of vessels, in cattleyards and mines, on lumber-rafts, among the firemen and the policemen…There, every day of the year somewhere, is human nature in extremis” (James). James demonstrates that “Divinity lies all about us,…the deepest human life is everywhere,” integrally intertwined with every shift of ‘perspective’, every change of ‘attitude’, and every alteration of thought and thinking (James). Here, every single ‘experience’, no matter how profound or mundane is ‘life-altering’. Every experience is a material-semiotic matrix, in which every ‘material’ experience is a psychological experience and vice versa, there-by altering ‘life’. Whether a breeze, a book, a sunrise, falling in love, or the birth of a child, each contains within it the unimaginable capacity and potentiality for the alteration of one’s attitudes, and correspondingly one’s life. After the death of my grandfather my life was marked by a melancholy, a loneliness, and a sadness which has never left me. The first time I saw a Pollock painting I knew I would never be the same, ‘altering’ what creativity means. With the experience of each reading of Hegel I am awakened, invigorated, and forever altered and changed. Everyday with my wife brings with it the joyous rupture of love’s sting, the vulnerability of what it means to ‘need’ someone, altering what it means to be alive. Every moment with my son is the greatest moment of my life and every experience of my daughter’s affections is rapturous. Every experience of the mundane is at once the experience of the utmost profundity. Every experience of the finite is an experience of the infinite. The absolute fullness of immanence is the excess of transcendence.
Allen, James. As a Man Thinketh and Other Writings. Stilwell: Digireads.com, 2005. Print.
James, William. “What Makes a Life Significant?” Introduction to Ethical Studies: An Open Source Reader. Ed. Lee Archie and John G. Archie. Philosophy.Lander.Edu, 2003. Web. 14 Oct. 2013
Tuana, Nancy. “Fleshing Gender, Sexing the Body: Refiguring the Sex/Gender Distinction.” The Southern Journal of Philosophy, Vol. XXXV (1996): 53-71. PDF file.

The Womb of the Social: Nurturing the Birth of ‘Mothering’ Contractions

Gustavo Guiterrez writes that “Human history has been written by a white hand, a male hand, from the dominating social class” (1976, 6). Guiterrez goes on to say explain that “Attempts have been made to wipe from their minds the memories of their struggles” but, “This is to deprive them of a source of energy, of an historical will to rebellion” (1976, 6). Likewise, Elisabeth Schussler Fiorenza shows that “Historians, philosophers, and anthropologists have emphasized that current scholarly theory and research are deficient because they neglect women’s lives and contributions and construe humanity and human history as male” (1984, xvi). These sentiments exhibit the imperative behind the work of Virginia Held and why the perspective she offers is so elucidating and so integrally vital, especially in regards to political and social thought and theory.

Indeed, Held, herself, makes these precise distinctions in her assessment of societal organization and corresponding social contracts stating that
Actual societies are the results of war, exploitation, racism, far more than of social contracts. Economic and political realities are the outcomes of economic strength triumphing over economic weakness more than of a free market. And rather than a free market of ideas, we have a culture in which the loudspeakers that are the mass media drown out the soft voices of free expression (2011, 782).

In this way, Held is both critical and skeptical of social contract theory’s validity and premises, explicitly questioning its framing narratives. If we look back to our Paleolithic ancestry we will find that our ‘Original Position’ in regards to social formation and interaction is perhaps nothing resembling the civilization of independent contractors supposed necessary by social contract theorists. The necessitation of the social contract proposed by such contract theorists as Rawls, Hobbes, Locke, Rousseau, etc,.., seems to be rather ahistorical, in that,they are something of a Westernized reflection of post-agricultural revolution societies posited upon pre-Neolithic civilizations, cultures, and contexts. Held concludes that “To see contractual relations between self-interested or mutually disinterested individuals as constituting a paradigm of human relations is to take a certain historically specific conception of ‘economic man’ as representative of humanity” (2011, 782). From an evolutionary perspective such a posturing would lead to a diminishment rather than an advancement of a species’ evolutionary fitness, that is, it’s ability to succeed in passing it’s genes on to the next generation. What is displayed in the assessments of many social contract theorists is perhaps a fetishization of the predominating structures and institutions as an idealization (perhaps even an idol-ization) set as a welcomed alternative to a fallaciously conceived ‘state of nature’, which is far more representative of the bias implicit within the ‘contractual’ framework rather than anything historically or anthropologically sound.

Instead, what we will see in humanity’s early stages are loose confederations of close-knit, kin-based hunter/gatherer societies that are familial in orientation. Humanity, then, is primarily relational rather than contractual. This seems to give added precedence to Held’s notion of ‘mothering’. Contracts create ‘obligations’, they do not create bonds, kinship, or relationships. Within the social contract individuals are incentivized or coerced to do only their duty, that is, to do only what is required of them, pursuing self-interest above all else with the exclusion of only that which causes harm to another. In this regard, contracts thrive upon ‘volunteerism’, ‘noninterference’ and ‘inaction’. Where as, Held’s focus upon the mother/child relationship centers upon “relationships that are nonvoluntary” and responsibilities that are “noncontractual…where the primary motive is concern for another’s welfare” (Calhoun 2011, 780). Even Rawls,himself, recognizes that “No society can…be a scheme of cooperation which men enter voluntarily in a literal sense; each person finds himself placed at birth in some particular position in some particular society, and the nature of this position materially affects his life prospects” (2011, 695). Kant, too, falls short here. Kant declares the universal imperative to treat others as ends in themselves yet, even his categorical imperative is implicitly self-centered, still treating others as means to an end, in that, one only treats others a certain way as a means to achieving their own preferred treatment. In other words, one’s self remains the ultimate end. Maternality or ‘Mothering’, instead, is responsive to needs, emphasizing care, “fostering transformative growth,” leading to “trust, cooperation, loyalty, and moral concern” (Calhoun 2011, 780). Held seems to make clear that the flourishing (blooming, blossoming, growth, development) of the individual and the flourishing of the community/society will require a ‘nurturing’ cultivation. Nothing short of a mother’s love will do.
Calhoun, Cheshire. “Virginia Held: Introduction.” In Political Philosophy: The Essential Texts, 2nd ed, edited by Steven M. Cahn, 778-781. New York: Oxford University Press, 2011.
Gutierrez, Gustavo. “Where Hunger is, God is Not.” The Witness . April 1976.
Held, Virginia. “From Non-contractual Society: A Feminist View.” In Political Philosophy: The Essential Texts 2nd ed, edited by Steve M. Cahn, 782-795. New York: Oxford University Press, 2011.
Fiorenza, Elisabeth Schussler. In Memory of Her: A Feminist Theological Reconstruction of Christian Origins. New York: Crossroad Publishing co., 1984.

The Dialectical Materialism of Apocalyptic Eschatology

In what may be one of the most quoted passages amongst the works and writings of Karl Marx, Marx writes in his introduction to his Critique of Hegel’s Philosophy of Right, that “Religious misery is in one mouth the expression of real misery and in another is a protestation against real misery” (3). “Religion,” Marx continues, “is the moan of the oppressed creature, the sentiment of a heartless world, as it is the spirit of spiritless conditions” (3). “It is,” Marx says, “the opium of the people” (3).

Marx’s description of the religious endeavor, in many ways, also serves as an appropriate description of the functioning of both Eschatology and Apocalyptic literature. Both are imbibing means of giving “expression of real misery,” utilized in giving vivid voice to “the oppressed creature.” The Eschaton and the apocalypticism, as it appears within the narrative and writings of the Kethuvim, serve as what Marx called “the sentiment of a heartless world,” and “the spirit of spiritless conditions.” John Edgar McFayden seems to sympathize with a similar summary suggesting that “the apocalyptic writers derive the future from the past and present, and make it an object of consolatory hope” (273). McFayden goes on to say that “with the apocalyptic writers the future is the brilliant counterpart of the sorrowful present, over which it is to lift them” (273).

A common feature in exilic/post-exilic thought is the revelatory realization of the immense incongruence and inapplicability of the ideas of retributive justice in the everyday workings of the world. Weeping by the waters of Babylon brought with it the all too real and cutting knowledge that the wicked more often than not go unpunished and the righteous all too often are down trodden, oppressed, exploited, and cast asunder. As Maya Angelou once wrote, “The caged bird sings of freedom.” Thus, with their brows bruised by the heels of their oppressors the Hebrew people begin to dream of the future, looking to a time when justice will roll down like a river, when the righteous will be raised to the right hand of God, when, as Marx has written, “the imaginary flowers which adorned the chain” will be plucked, “not that man should wear his fetters denuded of fanciful embellishment, but that he should throw off the chain, and break the living flower” (3). In this way, the apocalyptic/eschatological vision became the “opium of the [Hebrew] people” (3), as it was a way in which to self-medicate, dulling the pain and trauma captivity and oppression.

Yet the purpose apocalyptic vision of the eschatological imagination is twofold. Restating Marx, “Religious misery is in one mouth the expression of real misery and in another is a protestation against real misery” (3). There is not only expression of misery but, also protestation. Perhaps then, when Marx further suggests that “The abolition of religion, as the illusory happiness of the people, is the demand for their real happiness” (3), the demand of Marx most resembles that of the Hebrew apocalyptic literature in that “The demand to abandon the illusions about their condition is a demand to abandon a condition which requires illusions” (3). It is equal parts consolation and critique, as it only truly consoles via its critique of illusory consolation. Thus, continuing this parallelism of a kind of Marxian Dialectical Eschatology, when Marx describes the task of philosophy in the historical realm, he is at once elucidating that of the eschatological, in that “The immediate task of philosophy [/eschatology] when enlisted in the service of history, is to unmask human self-alienation in its unholy shape, now that it has been unmasked in its holy shape” (4).

There is, therefore, something of a paradoxical negation at work within these systems.

[It] includes in its comprehension and affirmative recognition of the existing state of things, at the same time also, the recognition of the negation of that state, of its inevitable breaking up; because it regards every historically developed social form as in fluid movement, and therefore takes into account its transient nature not less than its momentary existence; because it lets nothing impose upon it, and is in its essence critical and revolutionary (Marx, 17).

In this regard I would also suggest that the description of the Eschaton as “the ultimate fate of individuals persons: death, posthumous, heaven, hell, and resurrection” (Harris, 250), does not fully grasp the full expression of that which is eschatological. There is a profound “this-worldliness,” an immanent rather than a simply transcendent functionality available within the eschatological undertaking.  It is not simply talk of “End Things” but it too serves as a critique of the functions of the world, a critique of power, politics, economy, and authority. Perhaps one could say that that which is most purely apocalyptic is the apocalypse that tears away the very fabric of apocalypticism. Likewise, perhaps that which is most truly eschatological is the Eschaton that ruptures and breaks apart the very framework of eschatology. Perhaps, prodding further still, that which is most fully messianic is the Messiah that not only disrupts but, utterly destroys the very structures of messianism.  This is the eschatology of the everyday, which “defies the perverse reading of eschatology as some triumphant End of History where the divine trumps the human” (Kearney, 11).“Thus the criticism of heaven transforms itself into the criticism of earth, the criticism of religion into the criticism of right, and the criticism of theology into the criticism of politics” (Marx, 4).

Harris, Stephen L. Understanding the Bible. 8th ed. New York: McGraw-Hill, 2011. Print.

Kearney, Richard. “Epiphanies of the Everyday: Toward a Micro-Eschatology.” After God: Richard Kearney and the Religious Turn in Continental Philosophy. Ed. John Panteleimon Manoussakis. Bronx: Fordham University Press, 2006. Print.

Marx, Karl. “A Criticism of the Hegelian Philosophy of Right.” Selected Essays. Amazon Digital Services: Public Domain Books, 2006. Kindle Edition.

—. Capital: A Critique of Political Economy (Das Capital) . Amazon Digital Services, 2011. Kindle Edition.

McFayden, John Edgar. Introduction to the Old Testament . Amazon Digital Services: Public Domain Books, 2004. Kindle Edition.

The Problem of Pentecost: Part II

This is the continuation of a previous post entitled “The Problem of Pentecost: A Festival of Perversion in Two Parts.” This is the second part of the two part post, in which I attempt to explore and draw out the conceptual in-congruence and contradictions implicitly present within the cognitive social psychology of the modern practice and observance of the liturgical celebration of Pentecost.

If one was to ask a celebrant observing Pentecost what the impetus of the event is, more than likely the answer given, in one form or another, would suggest that Pentecost, in it’s Christian context, celebrates the birth of the Christian Church. Yet, when the original events of Pentecost are studied contextually, historically, anthropologically, sociologically, and, of course, religiously, one cannot help but notice that “The Church” given birth to at Pentecost in Acts 2 is quite simply nothing like what we have come to understand as the Church. The Church at present is the utter antithesis of what is witnessed in the community immediately following Pentecost. This was a bottom-up, grass-roots, non-hierarchical, egalitarian collective with no organizational structures, no committees, no creeds, no statements of faith, no building, and certainly no clergy. When set side by side, even a scant perusal reveals that these early “Christian” communities hold almost no parallels or commonalities with the ecclesiastical constructs we have before us now. What we have before us in the West is an externalized homogeneous objectification of what was once an internalized subjective individuation, i.e. a geographic space, an architectural edifice, and a fixed set of systematized beliefs and practices versus a fluidly eclectic non-standardized grouping, in which “The Church” is defined or demarcated as the differentiated individuals that comprise the community. This begs the question are we, in all actuality, celebrating the joining together of these counter-cultural discontents in the observance of Pentecost, or something else?
Being something of a veracious student of the sociology of religion, I recently read a book by Dave Ferguson and Alan Hirsch called On the Verge: A Journey into the Apostolic Future of the Church. While I more than adamantly disagree with many, if not most, of not only the authors’ starting points but also their conclusions and propositions as well. This is not to say that there are no point of interest or that the work is entirely devoid of value. There are several instances of elucidation or endeavors that do prove to be some what fruitful. They do effectively point out this differentiation in the conceptual understanding of the “Church” as an emancipated individual over and against the “Church” as an authoritative institution. Ferguson and Hirsch write that “We know intellectually that the church isn’t a building but a people, but our language and actions betray what we really think. That’s why we can talk about “going to church” or “getting married in the church” or “the Presbyterian church,” and so on.” Here, we see that in reference to the “Church” there is a chasmic gulf of divergence between intellectual cognizance and that which is phenomenologically experiential or understood in practice and practical engagement and application. Ferguson and Hirsch make clear that “We understand the word church in the context of its formal structures and institutions, rather than as dynamically located in the people” and that “most of us mistake the forms, theology, and models of church for the church itself.” As a result the “Church” is conceived of “as being made up of buildings, programming, creeds, rituals, denominational templates and formulas, symbols, clergy and religious professionals, and so on.”
One of the other areas in which I agree with the assessment of Ferguson and Hirsch is in regards to where they locate the origination of this conception. They propose that “this institutionalization of our way of thinking and doing church stems mainly from the period when Christianity became the official religion of the Roman Empire.” Beginning in the third century of the Common Era, Emperor Constantine had accepted and embraced Christianity, and in 380 CE Emperor Theodosius decreed Christianity to be the official religion of Rome. This would begin to ultimately shape, formulate, and systematize Christianity into the modern establishment of the present thereby impacting the whole of Western society. It seems that, as Ferguson and Hirsch conclude, “The previously subversive Jesus movement of the early church was now given magnificent buildings at the epicenters of towns and cities, was pressed by the emperor to standardize its theology and formulate creeds and to develop a formalized clergy caste to guard and maintain the affairs of the church.” The early Christians began as a loose confederation of radical heretics, heretical both Roman standards, in their dismissal of the state gods and state religion, and also by Jewish standards, in their rejection of many of the formalized ritualizations of the Jewish religion. Reza Aslan points out (here) that “Jesus himself was the quintessential reformer.” Aslan goes on to say that Jesus’ central message resides in this “one fundamental truth: the Temple does not have the right to define what it means to be Jewish; authority rests in the hands of individual Jews, and they need no mediator” and the Christ followers after Pentecost took their place in what Aslan calls “a long line of individuals who have seized the authority from institutions to define their religion for themselves.”
 Yet, after having been co-opted by Constantine the cusp of Christianity contrarily became obsessed with orthodoxy and weeding out heresy, that is any view that deviated from the creeds and doctrines formulated by the accepted mainstream of imperial Constantinian Christianity. Much in the same way that Lenin would eventually take over and declare an orthodox Marxism, Christianity had been high-jacked and its revised format has become normative, revealing that, as Ferguson and Hirsch suggest,”Constantine is still the emperor of our imaginations, of the way we see and experience ourselves as church, seventeen centuries later.” The radicality of the early Christian community gave way to the systematic subversion of everything Jesus and the community of Pentecost stood for.
Returning once again to Ferguson and Hirsch they stipulate that “Christianity is designed to be a people’s liberation movement, a social force, a viral idea passing from person to person through the medium of gospel and discipleship, creating gospel communities in its wake. And yet, by all accounts, most churches can be described as primarily institutional in form and nature.” What then is being celebrated in the institutionalized observance of Pentecost as the birth of the church? It is not the celebration of the empowerment of the first century community depicted in Acts but, rather a festival held in honor of the third century birth of Constantine’s organized perversion of Pentecost.
An authentic expression of the “Spirit” of Pentecost is not to be found in sacraments, tradition, or liturgy. It is not in the cloister, at the alter, or in the sanctuary. It is not in creed, council, or clergy. But, in the world, in the city, in the streets, the highways and byways, standing at the side of both the neighbor and the enemy, at the disposal of those in need. It is not within a Messiah, a Christ, or even in God, but in the death of God and the renouncement of all ideological, socio-religious, and socio-political constructions that impede the becoming of the individual. It is in the disavowal of that which we have sought to mask the traumatic responsibility of existence. It is in the rejection of what Nietzsche described as the “formula for every slander against ‘this world.'” and “every lie about the ‘beyond’…the deification of nothingness, the will to nothingness pronounced holy!” It is the acceptance of being adrift on an infinite sea, a horizonless ocean, with no objective guide and no absolute compass.
In a recent interview with Chris Hedges, Bishop George Packard expressed these notions astoundingly and poignantly clear, saying:
The spirit is calling us now into the streets, calling us to reject the old institutional orders. There is no going back. You can’t sit anymore in churches listening to stogy liturgies. They put you to sleep. Most of these churches are museums with floorshows. They are a caricature of what Jesus intended. Jesus would be turning over the money-changing tables in their vestibules. Those in the church may be good-hearted and even well-meaning, but they are ignoring the urgent, beckoning call to engage with the world. It is only outside the church that you will find the spirit of God (Read Full Interview Here).
It is well beyond the ecclesial doors that Pentecost is actually experienced, in a place without pews, scripture, or vestments, amidst outcast, excrement, and refuse. As Marie L. Baird suggests, “Christianity’s ultimate self-realization is in secularization” and perhaps truer words were never spoken when Ernst Blochdeclared that “only a Christian can be a good atheist, and only an atheist can be a good Christian.”