Monsterizing

For the last few weeks, I’ve been writing about scapegoating, the practice of imputing our sins, angers, discontent, frustrations, brokenness, on another who then bears it away either by going into exile or by being sacrificed. This week I want to address a way that we often participate in scapegoating, by “monsterizing” others. 

My spellcheck doesn’t recognize the word “monsterize,” so I guess I ought to stipulate a definition for it. Think of how “monsters” play in our imagination, in books, movies, and as a reference for people who we deem to be awful. Monsters represent a type of chaos that threatens our peace personally or our order collectively. In the Scriptures, the creation story in Genesis 1 shows how God brings order out of the primordial chaos, making the world a “good” place for human thriving. Various figures in the Old Testament would represent “monsters” that threaten to undo the order of creation – the serpent in the garden in Genesis 3; the “Nephilim” in Genesis 6; Behemoth and Leviathan; and so on. In the New Testament, we might think of the host of powers named variously as evil spirits, demons, unclean spirits, or devils. And, of course, throughout the Scriptures as well as subsequent Jewish and Christian tradition there are references to Satan, the Devil, Lucifer, etc., who embodies the ultimate form of an enemy intent on destruction. These “monster stories” try to account for evil that seems inhuman, but ever-present in the human story. 

Monsters have a curious effect on people. Imagine the crowd of angry villagers bearing torches and pitchforks, setting aside whatever differences they might otherwise have to attack the monster with their strength in numbers. And once the monster has been eradicated there is a modicum of peace in the village. Think about that storyline when you read the story at the beginning of Mark 5, where Jesus in confronted by “a man out of the tombs with an unclean spirit.” The villagers often tried to restrain him with shackles and chains, but he shattered them and spent his time in the wild howling and hurting himself. 

We know that, in the end, Jesus will not shackle or shame this person but will find a way to separate him from the unclean spirits, sending them into a herd of swine and leaving the man, “sitting there, clothed and in his right mind.” Before we jump to the end of the story, however, I want to imagine the untold beginning. Think of the stories parents told their children about him, the attempts the villagers make to subdue him or get rid of him. Think of the role he played in giving those villagers a common fear, common enemy, common quest to protect themselves. Once upon a time he was someone’s son suffering an inexplicable malady. Over time, he lost his personhood and simply became the “Mad Howler of the Tombs.” That is, he was monsterized. 

W e should monsterize things that are monstrous – a Nazi regime that systematically destroyed millions of lives; a Stalinist regime that murdered enemies and starved peasants; an institution of slavery and Jim Crow laws that systematically dehumanized persons for centuries. There are times that the symbol of a “monster” is precisely what we need to name the depth of evil. But the power to monsterize is often a mechanism by which ordinary people do awful things. When I was young, I was taught that a homosexual was a pervert. Period. The people who taught me that weren’t intending to be evil. It’s what they were taught. And the people who taught them were taught the same thing. So, our society ghettoized gay people into gay bars because they weren’t accepted in polite company, then we vilified them for always hanging around dens of iniquity like gay bars. This past Wednesday was the anniversary of when the US monsterized Japanese-Americans by putting them in internment camps. More recently we have monsterized homeless persons, immigrants, persons with mental illness or addictions, Arabs, and so on. When that happens, persons who otherwise try to exercise good will join in something awful because we imagine it is necessary to keep us safe. When we monsterize, we reduce our humanity by denying the humanity of others. Next week, I’ll try to tie all these essays on scapegoating and monsterizing into a way for us to enter the Lenten season that begins on Ash Wednesday, March 5. 

Mark of St. Mark

Scapegoating, pt.3

 Friends, 

Two weeks ago, I wrote the second of two essays on scapegoating, the practice of identifying someone on whom we place blame for the things that vex us, since there is nothing that draws people together more effectively than a common enemy – real or perceived. I interrupted that sequence last week to tell you about the “red cards” that we have produce, but will circle back now to pick up the thread. I will try not to retread old ground, but to finish my thought and I will try to set it up for those who did not read the earlier essays. 

René Girard is the thinker who has influenced my own understanding of “the Scapegoat Mechanism” the most. Girard argues that scapegoating is effective, which is why persons in power employ it again and again. Girard points to the words of the High Priest Caiaphas as the epitome of the scapegoating rationale when he said, “it is better for you to have one man die for the people than to have the whole nation destroyed” (John 11:50).  

Notice how close Caiaphas’ words are to a common Christian refrain that Jesus died as the substitution for us – “better for Jesus to die than for all of humankind to pay for our sins,” so to speak. Girard invites us to see Jesus’ crucifixion differently. Instead of seeing Jesus’ death as a sacrifice to appease God’s righteous anger toward us, Girard invites us to see Jesus as a scapegoat. Delivered into Roman hands by the religious leadership to secure their own power; tortured and executed by Roman hands to secure the power of the Empire. To keep the peace, either for the leaders of occupied Israel to follow the Pax Romana, or for the Empire itself to keep its subjects subjugated, someone must be identified as the sacrifice, whose death will bring peace. In that sense, for Girard, Jesus is no different from scapegoats throughout history who have been forced to bear pain on behalf of others. 

What makes the scapegoating of Jesus different is that we know that Jesus is innocent. He is sent from God to proclaim God’s reign and call us to a new way of seeing the world. He teaches God’s way and embodies God’s presence. He heals the sick, forgives sins, and takes away the stigma of those who have been called “sinners” – even before his death. Jesus’ innocent death exposes that the scapegoating mechanism itself is built on a lie. And the resurrection is God’s way of overturning the scapegoating mechanism. 

There are numerous ways that people have tried to identify the process of scapegoating others. Next week, I want to offer my own version of that story, stipulating a verb that I call “monsterizing.” 

Tune in next week,

Mark of St. Mark

Red Cards

 Last week, St. Mark's staff spent several hours printing “Red Cards.” We were asked by a school board member to print 1,000 of them and they work best if they are printed on cardstock, a firm and long-lasting kind of paper that takes a lot of time to duplicate and cut. There were some challenges with the template we received that we did not anticipate, but St. Mark's staff are determined folk and were anxious to fulfill the request to produce these cards. The red cards contain information about the constitutional rights of both citizens and non-citizens. We were asked to produce Spanish cards, based on the persons they were intended for. The cards are available in many languages and in English they read: 

You have constitutional rights

• DO NOT OPEN THE DOOR if an immigration agent is knocking on the door.

• DO NOT ANSWER ANY QUESTIONS from an immigration agent if they try to talk to you. You have the right to remain silent.

• DO NOT SIGN ANYTHING without first speaking to a lawyer. You have the right to speak with a lawyer.

• If you are outside of your home, ask the agent if you are free to leave and if they say yes, leave calmly.

• GIVE THIS CARD TO THE AGENT. If you are inside of your home, show the card through the window or slide it under the door.

The message on the other side of the card that one is giving to an agent reads: 

“I do not wish to speak with you, answer your questions, or sign or hand you any documents based on my 5th Amendment rights under the United States Constitution. I do not give you permission to enter my home based on my 4th Amendment rights under the United States Constitution unless you have a warrant to enter, signed by a judge or magistrate with my name on it that you slide under the door. I do not give you permission to search any of my belongings based on my 4th Amendment rights. I choose to exercise my constitutional rights.” 

Your staff did marvelous work last week in making these cards. Now I want to ask you to do two things. First, please read the information on this card from the perspective of someone who may feel the need to keep a copy of it in their wallet or by their front door. At the least, read it as an ally, who appreciates the meaning of the phrase, “constitutional rights.” 

Second, you may want to have one of these cards for yourself. In addition, I want you to imagine someone in your life who may want to have this card in their wallet or by their front door. You can order the template or some pre-made cards themselves here. 

I don’t know how you feel about immigration policy or the enforcement thereof. For the faith community, our political opinions are less relevant than our call to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly. Likewise, Border Patrol agents swear their loyalty to the constitution, not partisan politics. For immigration agents, then, these cards do not represent defiance. They simply enable someone to exercise the rights that the constitution ensures both citizens and non-citizens alike.

Where these cards are ineffective are when vigilantes feel empowered to take matter into their own hands or when neighbors look askance at someone whom they feel “doesn’t belong” here. Where they are ineffective are in the constant microaggressions that people often exercise against others, based on ethnicity, color, or language. I once heard that when a white person speaks more than one language, we consider them educated and sophisticated, but when a brown person speaks more than one language, it marks them as an immigrant. These cards cannot cure the malady of prejudice; only repentance and transformation can do so. Inviting others to repent and be transformed is also part of our call.  

Still, I encourage you to ensure that anyone in your life who may feel threatened by the immigration policies and rhetoric of the day has one of these cards. It’s the least we can do.

Mark of St. Mark