Scapegoating, pt. 2

 Friends, 

In last week’s post, I wrote about “scapegoating,” a process that gets its name from a communal rite in the book of Leviticus. (If you missed it, click here.) It also points to a larger phenomenon that lurks behind much of human history and our collective psyche, as I tried to show in the words of Caiaphas, the high priest who argued for Jesus’ death on the basis that it is better for one person to die than the whole nation to suffer. I am not original in showing the relationship between the biblical texts and cultural expressions of scapegoating. The term “scapegoat” has long been used by folks who never read Leviticus and has often been invoked by persons who never heard of Caiaphas. The writer who has most influenced my way of understanding both the biblical texts and the cultural meaning of scapegoating, is the French literary critic, René Girard. 

Girard wrote voluminously and his interests cover a wide span, with books that are challenging to read. Girard speaks of scapegoating as a “mechanism,” like a process that takes place in and around us, which shapes us and in which we participate, without necessarily consciously doing so. The Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy offers this summary, which I will try to break open a bit: “Over the years [Girard] has developed a mimetic theory. According to this theory human beings imitate each other, and this eventually gives rise to rivalries and violent conflicts. Such conflicts are partially solved by a scapegoat mechanism, but ultimately, Christianity is the best antidote to violence.”  

“Mimetic theory” is Girard’s insightful argument that we haven’t really matured much since our nursery school days. We can observe two children playing and how a toy sits unused and unnoticed, until one child picks it up. Then, suddenly, it is the pearl of great price that the other child must have immediately. After a brief period of screaming, yanking, and parental intervention, the toy once again sits unused and unnoticed by both children. It is not that the second child wanted the toy itself; it is that the second child wanted what the first child had – a form of imitation or “mimesis” for Girard. It’s the same rationale behind commercials that show famous beautiful persons using a product, so now we want it as well. “Mimetic theory” is this kind of imitation at work and often leads to rivalries, resentment, and conflict (all of which are key terms for Girard.) One effective tool to resolve those rivalries, resentments, and conflicts is the scapegoating mechanism, by which we impute those tensions on a common enemy, allowing “us” to achieve peace by condemning “them.” And it works. 

Scapegoating is effective, but only insofar as those who participate in it buy into pretense that the scapegoat is guilty. Rivalries, resentment, and conflicts have such a powerful hold on us that we are often altogether willing to join the pretense. Notice that Caiaphas’ words, “Better for one man to die than the whole nation to suffer,” is a calculation that has nothing to do with Jesus’ actual guilt or innocence. It just works. It works because we go along with the pretense; we go along with the pretense because it works. Both are true.  

The effectiveness of scapegoating makes it an enticing tool for those who are able to invoke it – usually those with some kind of power or influence. Of course, it’s a whole different matter for those who are chosen to suffer for it – usually those lacking power or influence. To buy into the pretense of scapegoating, we have to set aside our commitment to justice and truth. It is one expression of gaining the world by losing our soul.

And that is one thing that makes the Christian faith so curious. We serve, follow, and worship Christ as God’s incarnate presence among us. And, on the cross, Christ was the scapegoat, the one powerless one sacrificed – as Caiaphas prophesied – to save the people. And here is where Girard makes what I think is a brilliant argument: The Gospel message is that Jesus is innocent. The innocent one is put to death as if he were guilty, which exposes the whole deceptive nature of scapegoating, no matter how effective it might be. It is a lie. Jesus was innocent; he was crucified as one who is guilty; and the resurrection is the story of how God overturns the scapegoating mechanism. So, Girard argued that while scapegoating is an effective tool, the Christian faith exposes it as a lie and offers forgiveness as a better response to rivalries, resentments, and conflict. 

I know we’ve crawled deep into the weeds here, but I find Girard’s argument very instructive. Next week I want to explore the ways that I/we tend to buy into the scapegoating mechanism and how the crucified and risen Christ can save us from it. 

Mark of St. Mark

Scapegoating, pt. 1

 Friends, 

I walked out of the first interfaith event that I attended after moving to Orange County eleven years ago. I was torn about it. I had been the president of The Interfaith Alliance of Iowa when I served my previous church, so as a strong supporter of interfaith dialogue it was an was honor to be welcomed with tremendous hospitality at a local Islamic Center. The speaker for the event was a former undersecretary of something in the Clinton administration. After his opening remarks, he made a comment that I thought I misheard, because it seemed to presume that all of us in the room were opposed to same-sex relationships. I had not misheard. He dug in with an argument that one thing that can unify our different faith communities could be to stop the gay agenda in the US, in order to protect the family structure that all our religious traditions cherish.  

 

Please remember, I didn’t know anyone in the room, so I had no idea whether he was saying something with which they agreed personally and collectively or not. I just knew that, as much as I love unity and interfaith dialogue, I have no interest in a unity that comes at the cost of throwing the LGBTQ community – or any other marginalized community – under the bus. So I left. I didn’t make a scene, I didn’t disrupt, I was conscious of the fact that I was a guest and that for a white Christian man to get up and disrupt an event at an Islamic Center would be an act of white privilege presumption and historical unawareness that is problematic in itself. But I did leave. One woman noticed me get up, leave the room, put on my shoes and head out the main door, and she followed. She got my attention, introduced herself, and promised me repeatedly that the speaker’s comments were not how these meetings generally go. We had a lovely conversation, during which she convinced me to try this interfaith organization again. She was right. The speaker’s plea was an anomaly and over subsequent years I have found the Newport Mesa Irvine Interfaith Council to be a positive voice of compassion and justice for our community. So, today’s missive is not about the interfaith council. It is about scapegoating. 

 

Do you remember that movie when all the nations of the earth set aside their wars and differences to defeat the aliens who have come to attack us? The title is, “Every Movie about Aliens Ever” and it is a repeatable plot because nothing gathers people more than a common enemy. Sometimes that common enemy really is an enemy, such as when the US and the Soviet Union collaborated to defeat Nazism. It was an uneasy alliance. One Senator from Missouri (who later became president) suggested as the US entered the war that we ought to defeat Germany then keep marching east and defeat the USSR. Still, the photos of Roosevelt, Stalin, and Churchill at Potsdam are examples of how a common enemy can create unlikely allies. 

 

Scapegoating happens when we create that common enemy, in order to gloss over our real differences. The term comes from Leviticus chapter 16, when the Hebrew people would literally select a goat and impute on it all the pain, anger, and discord of the community – their sins, so to speak – and send it away, taking all of their sins with it. It was an uniquely insightful way of dealing with resentments that build up over time in every community and it steered the community away from its worst tendency, which is to scapegoat others, usually the most vulnerable. We create “them,” vilify the “other,” who threaten us and our tranquility. The Hebrews knew this experience because when they were in Egypt they were scapegoated and became the common enemy of their Egyptian masters. The public act of scapegoating was both a method of social healing and a confession that we have tensions, anger, and resentment, and we do not know how to resolve them. 

 

In the New Testament, the signature line for scapegoating came from Caiaphas, the high priest in Jerusalem, when the council wondered what to do about an upstart named Jesus and Caiaphas replied, “You do not understand that it is better for you to have one man die for the people than to have the whole nation destroyed” (John 11:50). We select the one – one person, one people, one race, one ethnicity – and we impose on them all the things we fear, and we allow ourselves to engage in cruelty and injustice because, “It’s better for one man [race, etc.] to suffer than for us all to suffer.” In the interfaith event that I attended, the speaker sought to build our interfaith unity on the perceived threat by the “gay agenda.” It was clearly an attempt at scapegoating that I am happy to say did not define the unity of the interfaith council. Next week, we will circle back to Caiaphas and explore the irony of the cross when it comes to scapegoating. 

 

Mark of St. Mark

Fires, Homelessness, Immigration - Challenges We Are Called to Meet

 Friends, 

 

A lot of things are happening all at once, demonstrating how much we need one another as a community that walks intentionally toward justice, earth care, and compassion. 

 

First, for anyone who has family or friends who have been displaced by the recent fires and are staying in Newport Beach: Newport Beach staff and community groups are hosting an informal gathering on Saturday, January 25 from 9 to 11 a.m. at the OASIS Center (801 Narcissus Ave.) to provide information and answer questions over coffee and snacks. 

 

Second, every year United to End Homelessness gives an update on the state of homelessness in Orange County. The next presentation will be online on Wednesday, January 29, from noon – 1:00pm. You can register for the event here.

 

The topics of those displaced by the fires and the ongoing challenge of homelessness overlap. I met with some Newport Beach city councilors this week, who anticipate that the need for housing will rise at every level of home values and, as a result, the housing market will be squeezed. As is often the case, those who can least afford housing will probably be most affected long-term. So, while there is immediate work to be done – temporary housing, clothing, etc. - the long-term work will endure, and we will be looking for meaningful and effective ways to respond. 

 

For those who want to make a monetary donation, we should be aware that scammers are shamelessly notorious for exploiting moments like this. So, our challenge is to find donation sites that we know are trustworthy and whose work is most helpful. One site, of course, is the Presbyterian Disaster Assistance, to which you can donate by clicking here. Another site – which I have not personally vetted but was recommended by the L.A. Times – is directed specifically toward domestic workers, over half of whom are women of color. You can donate to the National Domestic Workers Alliance here.

 

Another looming challenge for the church has to do with immigration. The incoming presidential administration has promised to ramp up efforts to deport as many non-documented immigrants as possible. However we are inclined politically and however we might feel about the legal processes surrounding immigration, the biblical call to ensure justice to the aliens/foreigners among us is consistent and clear. In our context, we ought to be thinking about domestic workers, caregivers, landscapers, farm workers, food service providers, and day laborers, whom many of us employ and rely on. Likewise, we ought to be thinking about students, from Glenn Martin Elementary to UCI and our local Community Colleges, many of whom may suddenly lose their family and support systems. 

 

I attended a workshop this week by the U.S. Immigration Law Group, to see what kind of resources we ought to gather and distribute to those who need them. I heard lots of good ideas and am gathering some resources that we can make available. I will try to keep you posted as we gather them, so you can take advantage of them as well. Please stay tuned. 

 

As I said, there’s a lot going on right now and the church is ever called to be a place of practicing justice, earth care, and compassion. Your pledges and contributions to the church continue to enable us to support our networking partners, educate, and amplify the good work that is being done, while trusting in God to empower us. 

 

Thank you for being the church,

Mark of St. Mark 

Where Luke's Story Has Taken Us

Luke, cc. 1-3 

From people of old there came two old people,  

their gametes had failed, they were growing quite feeble. 

An angel appeared to bring them some elation, 

a child was now coming, a next generation. 

 

Elsewhere was a woman, young and betrothed, 

the angel now entered into her abode, 

to say she was favored and having a child, 

the news was a miracle, the whole idea wild.  

 

The young mother paid the old one a visit, 

their joy was profound, their encounter exquisite. 

Their wombs were in sync, one danced as a portend; 

they prophesied hope and reversals of fortune. 

 

c. 2

Christ’s birth in the night brought celestial sensations, 

the angel, with others, paid a night visitation, 

to shepherds (of all folk) ennobling their worth, 

and sang of God’s glory and peace on the earth.

 

And after the child’s snipping and presentation,

they went to the temple for purification.

Two elders were there who spoke bright affirmations, 

they saw in this child God’s work of salvation. 

 

With annual treks for the feasts of Passover, 

when Jesus was twelve he chose to stay over. 

Confounding the wise with question he raised, 

his mother was worried but also amazed.  

 

c. 3

While some folks were rulers and other were priestly, 

the Word of the Lord came to someone quite beastly. 

He stood by the Jordan and called for deep change, 

then John warned the people their hearts were estranged. 

 

With mountains brought low and rough places made smooth, 

John’s message was not intended to sooth. 

It called for repentance, for things made anew; 

so sinners came asking what are we to do? 

 

The answers were simple, their effects were far-reaching,

“Share clothing, share food,” was the change John was preaching.

And to those who used power, who oppressed and extorted, 

“Be happy when you have enough,” he retorted.

 

“Could you be the Christ?” they asked the baptizer. 

“No, one is coming, one who is mightier. 

He’ll bring Spirit and fire, for a time of great cleansing,

he’ll show who is in and who’s just pretending.” 

 

One day Jesus came and he, too, stepped in, 

he too was baptized, who knew no sin! 

The sky was torn open, the Spirit alighted, 

a voice said, “My loved one in whom I’m delighted!”  

 

From people of old to the child of delight, 

with stories encompassing bright days and dark nights, 

the waters continue to offer a place, 

where we’re called “beloved” by dint of God’s grace. 

 

The Story of the Magi and Its Discontents

Matthew’s second chapter gives us a story about Magi coming to worship the newborn King of the Jews. “Magi” is a transliteration of the Greek term μάγοι, the plural form of μάγος, and it is related to our English term “magic.” So, why do we call them “Wise men” or “Kings”? I can only offer some preliminary responses to those questions, but largely I suspect Matthew’s story is just too raw and uncomfortable for many folks to take at face value. 

The people of Israel had a difficult history with astrology. Much of the Old Testament seems to have been written during or immediately after the exile, when Israelites spent several generations in Babylon, surrounded by its devotion to astral cults. I heard an Old Testament professor say that the casual way that Genesis describes God creating “the heavens and the earth” was, to protest against astral cults and relocate “the heavens” as a part of God’s creation, not as divine in itself. So, a story about Magi, who saw a star at its rising and discerned that a new King of Israel had been born, might at least deserve a footnote about how Matthew is not intending to give astrology any credit. Matthew offers no such footnote, but translators and interpreters of Matthew’s story have tried to “fix” Matthew’s story over the years.

I’m not entirely sure how the phrase “Wise Men” came to be a way of translating μάγοι. The annotations in different translations of the Bible that are comical in how they try to maintain translation integrity, without ruining a story that we have come to love. When the word “magi” first appears in v. 1, the New International Version reads “Magi” but annotates, “traditionally called wise men,” whereas the English Standard Version goes the other way by reading, “wise men” and annotating “Greek: magi.” The New Revised Standard Version reads, “wise men” and annotates “or astrologers; Greek: magi.” It’s a lovely hodgepodge of nobody simply translating μάγοι as “magi” and certainly not as “magicians” or “astrologers.” The only other times variations of the word μάγος are used in the New Testament are in the book of Acts (cc. 8 and 13). In each case, the person described is translated as a “sorcerer” or “magician,” and what they practice is “sorcery” or “magic,” with no annotations suggesting that they might be “wise.” 

The tradition of calling the Magi “Kings” is easier to trace. Isaiah 60 has long been embraced as a prophecy about Matthew’s story, since it mentions visitors who come bringing “gold and incense.”  In part, it reads, “Nations shall come to your light, and kings to the brightness of your dawn.” At least one early hymnodist, John Henry Hopkins, took his cue from Isaiah and wrote the song “We Three Kings,” which has solidified the idea that the Magi were royals ever since. Mr. Hopkins took another liberty in writing this song, although he was not the first by any means. Matthew mentions three types of gifts – gold, frankincense, and myrrh – but never number of Magi themselves. Through the years, church tradition has decided there were three of them, that they were Wise Men and/or Kings, granted them names (Gaspar, Balthasar, and Melchior), and even identified which countries they came from. 

In the end, Matthew’s sparseness makes this story so fascinating to me. He offers no explanation or apology for a story where certain Magi read the stars, saw the truth in them, and came to worship the newborn. In that same story, Bible scholars read the Scriptures and concluded that the promised one would be born in Bethlehem, but none of them traveled to Bethlehem to worship, leaving us with an uncomfortable story where stargazers were more in touch with what God was doing in the world than the Bible readers. I suspect that contrast is part of the reason the church has worked so hard to make the Magi exotic and downplay their magical interest and astrological reading.   

There’s a lot more to Matthew’s story that is worth exploring - not the least of which are the political implications. It is a fabulous, fascinating, and tragic story that doesn’t need us to sanitize of fix it, but to be humbled and learn from it. 

Mark of St. Mark