by Delwin Brown
Humanity:
Continuing the Creation
hree questions are fundamental to our experience as humans: Who are we to be? How should we live? and, Why do we fail to be and live as we should? We may not often ask these questions aloud, but we do not need to because we "feel" them daily. 'They are at the base of our everyday quandaries as ordinary talk and at the base of the philosophical outlooks that undergird our cultures. Not surprisingly, then, they are also fundamental theological questions.
If people are to consider Christianity seriously as a way of life, they are likely to do so initially because they think Christianity addresses these three questions in insightful and transformative ways. Indeed, more often than not what Christians say about Jesus, God, salvation, and the Church begins to get a hearing among others because of what Christianity has to say about being human. And the truth is that the strongest believer may from time to time question various aspects of Christian teaching-and those questions are to be valued-hut what hinds her or him into this tradition is its understanding of being human. Christians, like other people, begin with the human questions because we are human.
Who are We to Be?
For Christianity, who we are to be as human beings and what we are to do are inextricably connected. It would be wrong to claim that there is a single Christian viewpoint on these issues, but there certainly is a "family" of related viewpoints with common themes. As one might expect, the themes are most effectively communicated in the myths, stories, and symbols repeated throughout the biblical tradition and the history of the Church. Our reflective beliefs as Christians grow out of these "story" traditions as they bear upon and illuminate daily experience. So, too, our views of being human. These are not philosophical in nature, though they have implications for more abstract conceptions of being human. They are practical. And they focus in particular on the distinctive kind of responsibility that humans are given, and the special type of norms that should guide our exercise of that responsibility.
An especially interesting "introduction" to a Christian view of being human is a story found in the long set of creation myths and legends in the Book of Genesis. 'Ibis story is found in Genesis 2. It is brief, and explosive in its implications. In this, the second account of creation offered in Genesis (beginning 2:4b), God creates adam, which here means "humanity," along with the rest of the creation, not at the end of the creative process. But then, in verses 19-20, God does something quite remarkable. God brings before adam the entire array of living things that God has created and tells him to name them: "And whatever the man called every living creature, that was its name."
A name in the Hebraic tradition is not a label for something. It is a designation of that thing's meaning and place. To name something is to decide where it belongs, how it relates to the rest of the creation. In the Genesis 2 story, God brings things into being, and gives to adam responsibility for deciding how best to order them. God creates this world; humanity is to arrange it. So much for the view that the world is presented to us readymade! On the contrary, humanity is responsiblethat is, response-able-for continuing the creative process, seeking the best ways to order and relate the things that have been made.
Creative responsibility-or, perhaps, responsible creativity!is the theme of this story. It is a theme central to the entire biblical tradition. And the very fact that, in this story, God gives to adam the task of deciding, must mean that there are real decisions, real options, multiple ways that life might fruitfully be ordered. If there were not, there would be no point in telling adam to decide. No doubt there are also multiple ways that things should not be ordered-we must get to that, too. Further, there is the more troublesome fact that we don't pursue the forms of order that we know we should-that is a discussion for the next chapter on sin. 'The basic point here is about "creative responsibility" as the defining mark of being human. We are not called to conform to an already established plan; we are the creatures who are called to name the things God has created. Or, as the rabbis taught, our task is to assist in continuing the creation, as co-creators with God.
'I his is a more subtle version of the claim that appears also in the first creation story (Genesis 1:1-2:4a), namely that humans are given "dominion" over the earth. 'lhe common interpretation of human dominion has had disastrous consequences. It has been an excuse, especially since the industrial revolution, for virtually any use of the rest of the creation that might increase human delight, advance human comfort, and multiply human wealth. It has led, using a metaphor introduced in the last chapter, to the rape of the "body of God"
The idea of "human dominion" asserted in Genesis and throughout the biblical tradition, however, is a far cry from any license to exploit the rest of creation. First, it is not an entitlement or privilege granted to humans; it is a job, a work assignment. Second, it is a task to which we are called within a set of givens; the basic ingredients of creation are already established. Finally, it is a task given to humans who are fully a part of the web of creation, not to special beings who are above it. The pervasive tone of the Genesis stories is a sense of the massive interconnectedness of things. Naming the animals, exercising dominion, is a task we are to undertake for the good of the whole, of which we are but one valuable part.
'Ihe same understanding of dominion is even more pointedly expressed in the New Testament's paradigmatic idea of "dominion;' namely, the "lordship" of Jesus Christ. Christ the Lord, in the New Testament, is the Christ who comes to serve, explicitly rejecting anything like the role of kings who "lord it over their subjects" (Mark 10:42). If we continue to harbor any illusions about what human "dominion" means, it should now be clear: in the biblical tradition and, certainly, from a Christian standpoint, lordship is servanthood.
Being given dominion means being responsible for serving the needs of the whole creation, of which we are a part. It is not a place of privilege over the rest of creation to which we are called; it is to a role of special responsibility within the creation. 'that is central to the meaning of being human.
What are We to Do?
Clearly there are limits to our ability to name the animals. We cannot choose to "re-name" the so-called laws of nature. More important, even among the real alternatives, some possible forms of order should be avoided. But how are we to know? What are the guides?
Following the Jewish tradition, Jesus named two guides, the two "great commandments" First, we are to love God with all our heart, mind, and strength. Second, which is "like unto the first;' we are to love our neighbor as ourself. Those are our guides in deciding how to care for God's creation.
It is interesting that the interconnectedness which characterizes creation, according to Genesis, appears again in these commandments. We are to love God with all the parts of our being, not just some. Further, our love of God is connected to our love of neighbor-the latter obligation "is like" the former. Finally, love of neighbor is connected to love of self. Our love of God, which connects our whole being, is a love connected to our love of neighbor, which in turn is connected to our love of self. 'Ihe love that is to guide our naming is a connected love, holding together and balancing the lover and the loved.
Two points deserve special emphasis. First, serving the other is based on a healthy love, one that includes, rather than excludes, the love of the self. "Love your neighbor as [you love[ Yourself'." Servanthood may involve self-giving, but it is not self-diminishing. It is the freely chosen self-giving of a self that loves itself. Self-giving does not grow out of a hatred or abject denial of the self, its worth, and its needs. Rather, it grows out of personal, social, and spiritual strength, the giving of which will contribute to the health of the whole of which one is a part. And, we might add, to whom greater strength is given, greater self-giving may be required. Self-giving and self-love are held in balance.
Second, love of God and love of neighbor are inseparable. But how? How can love of God in any way be "like" love of neighbor? "Ihe answer is that the neighbor is on
e in whom the self-giving God is incarnate! Love of God requires love of the neighbor because God is incarnate in the neighbor.
The next step in seeking to understand what we are to do is to ask, "Who is my neighbor?" The answer is expressed in those shocking sayings of Matthew 25: "Just as you have done it to one of the least of these;' Jesus says, "you did it to me." It appears, too, in the story of the Good Samaritan. The point of the parable is simple and radical: the neighbor is whoever is in need. Whoever! This radical statement of our obligation overturns our common practices of service, practices that extend readily to family, friends, and others who think and live as we do. These more comfortable "lines of obligation" are superseded by the claim that our obligation is to all, but proportionate to their need, and so especially to the "least of these"
This notion of our obligation is radical because it is at once so personal and so comprehensive, so immediate and so cosmic. It extends to the neighbor-in-need and neighbors-in-need, to the stranger-in-need and to populations of strangers-in-need, to the other ... to the alien ... and to the enemy.... It extends, too, to the earth.
Our obligation to serve the well-being of the earth is a straightforward consequence of belief in the incarnation. From John's gospel on, Christians have believed that God is incarnate in what God seeks to save. And the claim of Romans 8 is that God seeks the salvation of the "entire created order. God is in all things, seeking to bring healing and wholeness to all things, to the whole creation, to the entire community of the cosmos. 'Ihose who seek to serve this God seek to serve what God serves.
If the interdependence of the world were not obvious enough already, it would in any case follow from Christian belief in the incarnation of God in all things. The creation is literally a "uni-verse"-that which has been turned into one. Each part has value, in the Christian view of things. In Genesis, each segment of creation is judged by God to be of intrinsic worth. In the gospels, each small creature is an object of God's tender care. But each part also has worth for the rest of creation. "Disease" in any part of the creation diminishes the health of the whole. Put in the terms of Paul's audacious vision, God cannot seek to save any part without seeking the salvation of the whole. Nor can we. 'Ihat is why our obligation is first of all to "the least of these;' those human and non-human places in the creation where need is greatest.
Guidance for Naming
Christianity provides a clear understanding of the human role in creation. It does not offer rules for exercising that responsibility. Any attempt to establish abiding rules is a mistake. They are not provided in the Bible or in the teachings of the Church. 'They are not provided in the teachings of Jesus, either, if we take seriously the New Testament understandings of Jesus. Our abiding guide is the two great commandments, love God and love thy neighbor. Jesus said the degree to which all legal and prophetic traditions are valid for us depends on-"hangs on" (Matthew 22:37)-the extent to which they fulfill these two commandments in their specific contexts.
These two commandments represent the abiding obligation of the progressive Christian. The specific social and ethical decisions of tines gone by, like our own moral judgments, are fallible, culturally limited attempts to give expression to these two commandments. We have much to learn from past applications, their weaknesses as well as their strengths, and we must be willing to hear the criticisms of our fallible judgments implicit in their judgments. But to let past "namings" replace our judgments is to shirk our responsibility to name the animals in our time and place.
In chapter 2 we saw that the authority of the Bible does not lie in its stipulation of one particular set of beliefs and practices to which we must conform. It cannot be that kind of authority if we are honest about the Bible-if, that is, we acknowledge the irreducibly diverse ways of thinking and acting conveyed in the Scriptures. What the Bible does communicate to us is a process of "pious" (in the best sense) witness, critique, response, and failure and growth. It is a process into which we are invited. We are taught through our participation in that deeply pious process. It authors us, forms us, feeds us, even when we depart from the judgments it conveys that were made for other times and places.
On important theological and practical matters, the Bible embraces difference. Partly for this very reason, Christians today differ in theology, modes of life, and decisions about human relationships. Acceptance of diversity, however, does not mean indifferent relativism. If there are not perfect ways to love God and the neighbor, in each circumstance some ways are far better than others. But diversity remains, and it should. Continuing diversity in the Church and in the human community seems to be the means by which the incarnate God restrains our longing for absolute perspectives and the arrogance they always engender. Differences provoke us to seek the better ways and prod us to do so in humility.
Another story from Genesis makes this point-the story of the tower of Babel in Genesis 11. Once upon a time, the story goes, people spoke one language and used words in the same waythey were in agreement on things. This unanimity prompted in them the illusion that they were absolutely right and thus they deserved to ascend into the heavens, sharing the place of God. God saw the human arrogance that uniformity gives rise to, so decided to force humans into diversity by giving them different languages. With different languages come different ways of life, different thought- forms, different religions and cultures.
Probably this is an ancient story that the Hebrews shared with other people of the time, a story intended to explain the diversity of human languages. But the story is theologically profound. It does not say that God separated people into different linguistic groups as a punishment-not at all. The diversity imposed on the human race was a safeguard, a protection against the illusion that we are or can become like God. God intervened when uniformity became excessive.
Diversity is essential to a healthy church and a healthy human community. It is God-given, according to Genesis. Not as punishment, but as a check on the presumption of perfection in every human community, religious or cultural, and as a means whereby each human community critiques and enriches the others.
We do not need to take these stories literally in order to see that they say something of importance about God and the ways of the world. Difference is a part of God's creative plan for the world. And if, as progressive Christians believe, God is present throughout the creation, then we must honor each form of life, each culture, each religion, with the understanding that each is a way that humans have exercised their obligation to order life, it is their way of "naming" their worlds.
'Ihis very diversity, however, reminds us that no one viewpoint, no way of life, no culture, no religion is perfect. Each is a human undertaking. God's gracious presence in human life everywhere is always refracted through fallible, human beings. For this reason, we must not only honor each tradition, we must also look at it critically. Indeed, we only truly honor a tradition if we care enough about it to seek to identify its failings, and encourage its self-criticism and change.
To honor a tradition is to approach it as a place that in some manner holds the imprint of God's grace and power. To criticize a point of view, which is part of honoring it, is to ask where it is lacking the fullness of God's grace, as understood from our perspective, and how it might become more wholesome and healing. As critics of other traditions, we are not without failings ourselves. So our critical observations and suggestions are themselves fallible. Just as we "honor through examination" other forms of Christianity, other religions, other social and cultural practices, so we expect ourselves to be critiqued, challenged and, possibly, changed by them. An authentic diversity is an engaged diversity; it is one in which our differences with each other are expressed, confronted, and reflected on with resolve.
Of course, an engaged diversity is frustrating, sometimes to the point of despair. The reason is clear. In most cases, our differences are about matters of great importance, about whether in fact we are loving God and neighbor in the best way. We differ in ou
r judgments about what loving means. Many of our current controversies-about homosexuality and samesex marriage, abortion and stem-cell research, taxation and economic policy, racism and affirmative action, freedom and national security, the environment and eco-justice, immigration and citizenship-are differences of this sort. These differences distress us because the issues are so important. However difficult, we must continue to struggle with them together.
But seeking to know the good, however vital, is not the most important question we face. According to the wisdom of the Christian tradition there is another problem of even greater moment. It is not doing the good that we do know!
Christianity calls this "sin" It is the topic of the next chapter.
POINTS FOR REFLECTION
• More often than not, what Christians have to say about Jesus, God, salvation, and the church get a hearing among others because of what Christianity has to say about being human.
• According to Genesis 2, God creates the world but humans are to arrange it, to order it. We are not called to conform to an already established plan. Our task is to assist in continuing the creation, as co-creators with God.
• Genesis says humans are given "dominion" over the earth. Dominion is not a special entitlement or privilege; it is a vocation of service undertaken for the good of the whole creation.
• What are our guides in deciding how to care for the creation? Jesus named two interconnected guides-to love God, and to love others as we love ourselves.
• Who is the neighbor? The neighbor, understood biblically, is the one or ones in need-individuals and groups, friends and strangers, allies and enemies, and the earth itself.
• Christianity does not offer rules applicable for all times. Our abiding guide is the two great commandments. The validity of other teachings depends on the extent to which they fulfill these commandments in specific contexts.
• Diversity is essential to a healthy church and a healthy human community. It is a God-given check on the presumption of perfection in every human community, a means whereby we critique and enrich each other.
