Life Table

Much of the history of this century—such as the power of totalitarianism and the weakness of liberalism and reform can be summed up by saying that personal existence has been undermined through forgetfulness of the paradox that “he that loveth his life shall lose it.”

The idea that every individual is of ultimate value, and should never be considered merely as a means, arose primarily from a religious ethic of humility and self-sacrifice. The redemption of the person was seen as the strange fruit of his abasement; resurrection must be preceded by crucifixion.

As the progress of industrialism led to the pouring of wealth over the earth, justice certainly was on the side of those who fought class disintegration and maintained that, in some basic sense, each man has an equal claim to the world’s wealth. But in the course of recognizing and enforcing this principle Western individualism has been altered in a way which, in the distraction and unsettlement of present-day societies may seem relatively innocuous but, judged by the original spirit of that individualism, has fundamentally perverted it: the stage of abasement and sacrifice has been canceled. Sanction has been given to each person’s quest for his own immediate earthly fulfillment.

This may seem like a kind of personalism; but its resemblance to the personalism which Western civilization inherited from Christianity is specious. The notion that the self is realized through sacrifice has been largely forgotten; the symbol of the Crucifixion has lost all vital relationship to the established way of life. Treasures on earth have come to be viewed as indispensable to self-fulfillment and not as a lure into the sphere of existence “where moth and rust doth corrupt” and where, consequently, the viability of the person is destroyed. 

There has occurred, in a broad sense, an unwitting return to Hellenic naturalism; the aim of life has come to be conceived as the development and satisfaction of the natural self. But what exists at present is a sentimental and degraded Hellenism, even as judged by the standards of Epicureanism: the good life is one which is within the easy, deliberate reach of the average man. And this, as countless commentators of the present-time have testified, is a life without much dignity. If we are to be Hellenists without degradation we must give up the notion of an intrinsic dignity in each person and become open to heroes. But the mass-market Epicureanism of the present is as far from that as it is from the Christian ideal of humility. Thus we are left with a personalism which is ghostly and senseless because it has been deprived of the life it received from its Christian matrix.

― Glenn Tinder, "The Crisis of Political Imagination" (1964)

*******

Dear Kate,

Today's headline: "Family rifts seem on the rise. Here's why they happen and how to cope."

Only in the news can we see a perennial human question being asked, our trouble purported to be properly identified, and easy victories declared by the end of a handful of grade school sentences.

Yet what else to do?  Good enough the question was raised at all, isn't it?  Better still that the piece is sprinkled with expert advices that we can act on and make a difference by the next minute?

It could have been worse, much worse.  Sprinkled around the sprinkling of expert advices are advertisements to estrange us from our Selves and objectify the Others, and our attention could have been given to those distractions, desecrations instead.  That the piece actually exists speaks about our desperation: if things aren't really so pressing we wouldn't allow something so depressing to make itself to the headline under the auspices of our corporate sponsors.

"We're very successful when both people are willing to come to the bargaining table and are open to change. But both people have to be willing."  Such is the answer at the end when the expert family therapist was asked about his "success rate" in reconciling family rifts.  Listen to his choice words, central image: a bargaining table.

The Lord's table we could have gathered around as a family to celebrate our lives together in the name of the One who has lost His and summoned us to follow likewise.  But since we are, in the words of the news article, "wedded to [the] more individualistic narrative of personal happiness," we can only bring ourselves to a table to "bargain," to claim our share of a power pie, address the economic and emotional imbalance on a seesaw of what we think is justice and freedom.  The best we will achieve is to not kill each other and, that, is being more civilized than our ancestors, whose statutes and icons we can't wait to smash to smithereens.

We all need to gather around tables and bring with us something to share.  If sacrificial love, the blood and body of Christ are no longer the meal we serve and partake together, we must come up with a different common recipe, a new lexicon to speak about our condition, novelties to engage our fragmented bodies and estranged hearts.  If our shared narrative is one of "personal happiness," then it's not hard to see why even churches would desecrate the Lord's Table with fruits not of the Spirit but self-fulfillment, maybe giving it the good name of us being "vocational" in our "calling," maybe by keep talking to each other without bringing to the table what Jesus has spoken to us personally and collectively from where he hung.

What are your favorite fries?  New restaurant?  Next travel destination when we arrive at "the light at the end of our tunnel"?  Should I invest in stocks or real estate?  If we find these questions more engaging than the one CNN allowed itself to raise today for the good of our common consciousness, we are at the wrong place to raise any question at all about life.  All the answers we are seeking are already sprinkled around the news article, under the auspices of our corporate sponsors who have a spectacular solution or two to sell us, to address problems we don't even know we have until we saw what was laid on their table for us.

Choose life.

Yours, Alex