2017

Seats at the Table: Jesus’ response to Nietzschean Power

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A friend recently sent me a video where John MacArthur was asked to give a “Biblical and Christ proclaiming view” on the events of Charlottesville. While I am in no position to critique MacArthur for his response, I think his comments were broad theological statements rather than a direct response to Charlottesville. No doubt others will have opinions about this video, but I just want to give the question a second look considering the discussion we started two weeks ago about “power.” What does the Bible tell us about the display at Charlottesville? Is the Bible capable of reorienting the world so that “power” isn’t grasped for with such violence and coercion?

Two weeks ago, I concluded my own thoughts on Charlottesville with a brief definition of privilege. “Privilege is the ongoing benefits of past successful exercises of power” (Crouch, 150). It’s important to remember that privilege is neutral. That is, privilege is neither good or bad, and it is usually invisible. Privilege can originate from oppressive or benevolent acts of power. Privilege can even be shared for the benefit of another. Just go back to my story about Steve if you want an example. In his book Playing God: Redeeming the Gift of Power, Crouch makes a distinction between neutral (though potentially dangerous) privilege and status. His definition of status is as follows:

“Status — at root, “where you stand” –is about your place in line. It is about the human drive to be ranked above another, to be counted more worthy than another … Status is about counting, numbering, ranking and ultimately excluding … We rarely have any control over where we land in these rankings; they are assigned based on realities that long preceded us. Status is by definition a scarce resource … Status is rarely anything but dangerous” (Crouch, 156–7; italics are mine).

Jesus and the Status-Obsessed

Though I suggested previously that the protestors at Charlottesville were more concerned about privilege than power, I think status is an even more precise term for what the alt-right group wants to retain. To that end, to the pursuit of status, Jesus spoke directly. Luke tells of a day when Jesus went to dine in the home of the ruler of the Pharisees (Lk. 14:1–24). Pharisees were the religious elite of the day, and they enjoyed a great deal of status. One historian wrote, “They had the greatest influence upon congregations, so that all acts of public worship, prayers, and sacrifices were performed according to their injunctions. Their sway over the masses was so absolute that they could obtain a hearing even when they said anything against the king or the high priest” (quoted by Unger in his entry on Pharisees, 998).

Given that this was the home of this elites’ leader, no doubt only the “supreme” Pharisees were in attendance. Jesus observed them as they took their seats at the table to dine and noticed that they worked their way around the room trying to position themselves in the places of honor. Every greeting was calculated, ever step intentional, every smile was a mask hiding their anxiety about their place. The Pharisees wanted their seat to reflect their supposed importance. In the middle of all the networking and posturing, Jesus gives this advice:

“When someone invites you to a wedding feast, do not take the place of honor, for a person more distinguished than you may have been invited. If so, the host who invited both of you will come and say to you, ‘Give this person your seat.’ Then, humiliated, you will have to take the least important place. But when you are invited, take the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he will say to you, ‘Friend, move up to a better place.’ Then you will be honored in the presence of all the other guests. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted” (Lk. 14:8–11, NIV).

At first, it seems Jesus is giving the Pharisees a new trick-of-the-trade, the kind of advice expected from Dale Carnegie or Tony Robbins. We know that can’t be the case because of what Jesus says to/of Pharisees in other instances. “The teachers of the law and the Pharisees sit in Moses’ seat … But do not do what they do, for they do not practice what they preach … Everything they do is done for people to see … They love the place of honor at banquets and the most important seats in the synagogues … Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites!” (Matt. 23:1–13). If Jesus is so strongly against the Pharisees status-hungry posturing, there is no way He is telling them how they can more easily obtain status. Instead, Jesus is making a powerful point about status. Status should be dismissed into the hands of the master of the meal. In other words, status should be disregarded, for honor, the recognition of one’s power and dignity, is never taken but bestowed.

If the Pharisees heard Jesus and missed his point, I’d imagine they all raced to the worst seat at the table, turning their eyes to their host waiting for him to assign the proper seating arrangements. That would be a sad sad scene, if that was in fact what happened, but Jesus’ next words suggest he stopped them just before they moved to reposition themselves at the table. This time, He directs Himself to their host:

“When you give a luncheon or dinner, do not invite your friends, your brothers or sisters, your relatives, or your rich neighbors; if you do, they may invite you back and so you will be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed. Although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous” (Lk. 14:12–14, NIV).

Jesus’ words reveal the naked truth about this entire dinner. The guests were only present to either gain more or demonstrate their existing status. To be invited to the house of the ruler of the Pharisees to dine with the most influential and popular new religious leader, Jesus, was sure to boost their profile. And, all the guests there were looking to elevate in that way. But, there host was playing the same game. If they were invited to that dinner with Jesus, it was because the host believed he was gaining some leverage on them by having them there that night. The entire event was a display of Nietzschean power dynamics (see description in my previous article) played out by people competing for their own interests, for their own power, for their own status.

The Dinner Table and Charlottesville

Unfortunately, many people, including the alt-right protestors, vie for status. In fact, anyone who works in an office setting with any number of meetings has likely seen a microcosm of the posturing on display at that dinner with Jesus. It’s no surprise that books like Survival of the Savvy: High-Integrity Political Tactics for Career and Company Success are growing in popularity, even in Christian institutions. Note the first word in that title: survival. In the last office I worked for, this was the dominating sentiment. Meetings were often perceived as miniature Hunger Games where uneasy alliances were made in hopes to survive and retain one’s status at the table. This pathos is at the core of the protest in Charlottesville, but the world does not have to be this way.

Someone asked me, after reading my previous post, to comment on the counter-protestors. My hope is that this exploration of Luke 14, power, and status starts to make my position clearer for everyone. My suspicion is that some counter-protestors still live in a world where power is a limited resource exchanged in zero-sum transactions. Success for any counter-protestor who believes this might look like a reversal of roles, where the underprivileged, low-status, and disempowered assume all the status available to today’s elite and use it to dominate space. This is no victory for anyone! And here is where Jesus’ response becomes most important.

After calling out the guests and host, Jesus transports them to a greater banquet by telling them a story. In this narrative, a man gave a magnificent banquet and invited many, but by the time the meal was prepared, guests made excuses and did not attend. Each excuse Jesus retold was rooted in the acquisition of new wealth, either relational or monetary. In frustration, the host of the banquet commands his servant to bring the poor, the crippled, and weak. This had already been done, so the servant is commanded to compel people on the streets to come to the banquet because there was still plenty of room at the table. At this banquet, the real world is clearly envisioned for Jesus audience to consider. There is room sufficient at the table for the wealthy and poor, for the strong and weak. This banquet host gives no regard to previous status, but simply makes room for the dignity of everyone who comes to the meal as invited guests.

Conclusion

The seminary I attended had a meeting dedicated to discussing issues of reconciliation called Mosaic Gatherings. I’m very proud when I think of these gatherings because of one particular story. While the group of students sat discussing privilege, the minority students were dominating the conversation. A white student asked with sincere consideration, “What place at the table do I have to talk about this issue?” The conversation turned, to my surprise, to the acknowledgement that this student belonged in the conversation along with his minority peers. Only together could Christ’s church be made visible in this small group, and only together could their power multiply for the service of others. It was a powerful moment.

There is a vision of the world that suggests power is limited, and people must fight to control it if they are to retain their dignity. Jesus promises a different way around “the table” all together. In the world He creates, power is multiplied and servants are honored. His people disregard their own status and have no problem taking the lesser seat at the table, for this makes room for others to flourish. His people make connections with the weak, knowing this does good and not harm to everyone. While he didn’t know it, a Pharisee trying to clear the air after Jesus’ uncomfortable speech was right when he said, “Blessed is everyone who will eat bread in the Kingdom of God!” (Lk. 14:15).

Indeed! Blessed is everyone who leaves the Nietzschean world for the world of Christ.

Does Justice have to be a Zero-Sum Game?

Alejandro Alvarez/News2Share, via New York Times

Alejandro Alvarez/News2Share, via New York Times

A Question for the Protesters at Charlottesville

“You will not replace us!” shouted the torch-bearing crowd of white men and women who marched on the University of Virginia over the weekend. Mr. Kessler, the event organizer, said in an interview that his goal was to “de-stigmatize white advocacy so that white people can stand up for their interests just like any other identity group” (italics mine). Both Kessler’s comments and the crowd’s declaration struck me as a deeply emotive commentary on justice and privilege. It appears, from their words, the protestors believe that current practices of affirmative action and diversity initiatives are mostly at their expense. In supporting the increase of power for a particular minority group, this country is taking, indeed stealing, the power of the majority. The alt-right marchers want with visible protest to retain their power. “You will not replace us!”

The events of this weekend prompted a question I’ve discussed with one of my conservative white friends. We’ll call him Steve. To be clear, Steve would never have participated in nor does he share the ideology of the protestors in Charlottesville, but together we’ve discussed the assumption underlying the weekend’s protest. I’ve asked Steve a question I now ask in response to the protester’s angry shouts: Does justice have to be a zero-sum game? In other words, do initiatives to provide power for one group always result in the reduction of power for another? If so, are these initiatives truly just? Is that what justice demands?

Early this summer, I read Andy Crouch’s magnificent book Playing God: Redeeming The Gift of Power. Much of my thought here originates in my engagement with Crouch’s book. I’ll be quoting it, and let me say in advance that you should consider reading the book for yourself. I hope to represent his ideas well, while also developing my own position in response to Charlottesville. I don’t pretend to give a definitive treatise on this weekend’s events but to frame them around the question I believe is at the core of what transpired. Some people fear they are in jeopardy of losing a good thing: power. Yes, power is a good thing, and the fear of losing or not having it has led many to acts of desperate violence. That is what I think we saw this weekend, and the conversation around power is a good and necessary one.

Crouch’s book begins with an exploration of definitions of power. He notes that many of us assume the proverb, “Power tends to corrupt and absolute power corrupts absolutely” (Crouch, 44). While power is a corrupting agent, many of us still think it necessary for existence. However, we believe this to be true in a very Nietzschean way. Friedrich Nietzsche wrote:

“My idea is that every specific body strives to become master over all space and to extend its force (its will to power) and to thrust back all that resists its extension. But it continually encounters similar efforts on the part of other bodies and ends by coming to an arrangement (“union”) with those of them that are sufficiently related to it: thus they then conspire together for power. And the process goes on” (as quoted by Crouch, 46).

The events of this weekend exist in a Nietzschean world. They make sense if we believe power is limited and space must be mastered by one body forcing out another. The uneasy union described by Nietzsche was on display in the alt-right crowd, a mix of KKKs, Neo-Nazis, and White Supremacists. For the time, their interests are “sufficiently related,” so together they marched for power. “You will not replace us” reveals that this collection of people believes it is being “thrust back.” They are, in their view, literally losing ground, and the Robert E. Lee statue that inspired the march is their proof. Thus, they use force (or, in their view, “power”) to regain their space. But, what if Nietzsche was wrong about power? What if it isn’t a corrupting force that should be wielded to dominate all space? What if the Nietzschean world isn’t at all the real world?

Redefining Power

Nietzsche’s vision of the world requires force, coercion, and assumes a limited amount of space and resources. It also assumes that all exchanges of power, a word that in this framework is synonymous with force, are zero-sum transactions. Zero-sum transactions are transactions where one person’s wealth increases by exactly the amount decreased in the wealth of the other person involved in the exchange. Exchanges of money are easy examples of zero-sum transactions. When making a $50 purchase, my wealth decreases by that amount while the person I am buying from is $50 wealthier. The total amount of wealth stays the same, and the only change is its distribution. While this mode of transaction defines the exchange of money, it is not a functional description of power transactions.

Crouch argues true power transactions are positive-sum transactions. Rather than use his example, let me reintroduce Steve.

Steve and I met in college. At first, I thoroughly disliked the guy, thinking him an obnoxious upper-middle class white guy who was clueless. Through a series of unexpected connections, Steve and I became close friends. I learned that he wasn’t at all who I believed him to be, and when we graduated from college my connection to him was a saving grace. I grew up in a family with no money management skills. My parents often spent more than they had, never kept an accurate budget, and often guessed at their ability to maintain payments on major expenses. I grew up learning those habits, and it made my time in college significantly more difficult. Steve, on the other hand, grew up in a family that taught him a great deal about financial planning and how to maintain economic health.

In my last semester, I landed a job that would pay me more than I had ever made. The prospect of managing that money while still properly handling my school debts terrified me. So, I called Steve and proposed to pay him (a zero-sum transaction) to teach me how to manage money. After discussing it, we agreed on a small amount and worked on managing my money together for 6 months. Today, at the age of 27, I have more saved for retirement than either of my parents, I am nearly debt free, and have a relatively healthy financial life. At the start of our friendship, Steve had significantly more power than me by simple means of his cultural and educational background. He grew up with a wealth of knowledge inaccessible to me through my more limited connections. However, in teaching me to manage money (a transaction of power) my power was greatly increased while his was completely undamaged. The overall power of financial stewardship was multiplied not just redistributed. This, like any other form of education, is an example of positive-sum transactions.

This suggests something about the nature of power. Power is not a force meant to be applied to gain and defend “blood and soil.” Power is also not synonymous with violence (Crouch spends some time dismantling this view promoted by C. Wright Mills in the book The Power Elite, 133–39). “Power is the ability to make something of the world… a universal quality of life; Power is for flourishing” (Crouch, 17, 37). True power multiplies capacity and wealth. In other contexts, we accept this idea more readily. For instance, the book Multipliers: How the Best Leaders Make Everyone Smarter, a best-selling book on management and leadership, posits as its central thesis that the best leaders (known in the book as “multipliers”) make the people they lead smarter. Their teams increase their capability of solving harder problems and adapt to changes more quickly. In contrast, the diminisher (the term used for poor leaders) “see intelligence as static” (Wiseman, 19). Most of us can quickly think of such leaders in our work experience. We can recall the leaders that empowered versus those who assumed we were incapable. Indeed, in discussions on leadership we seem to recognize the positive-sum quality of power, and we desire for more leadership of that ilk; leadership capable of making all of us more powerful.

Power, Trust, and Love vs. Poverty, Fear, and Hatred

The distinction between true power and the Nietzschean version of it deepens on two more points. True power and the multiplication of it doesn’t come free. “There is a kind of suffering required to enter into the virtuous circle of creative power, and the suffering is required of both student and teacher” (Crouch, 42). When I approached Steve about my money problems, I had to confess a deep need and reveal the poverty, not only economic, of my upbringing. As my teacher, Steve had to endure patiently the times I called him after foolishly spending my money on unnecessary purchases. The point is that true power was developed within the context of a trusting relationship.

Secondly, my acquisition of power was only possible through love. Like Crouch, I know how silly this sounds, but it isn’t silly when compared to the events of this weekend. We are much more capable of acknowledging the presence of hate than of love. The events of this weekend were, at base, motivated by hate, a deep desire to impoverish another for one’s self-benefit. In contrast, Steve acted from love, the desire to empty oneself to make room for the full flourishing of another. “Love transfigures power” (Crouch, 45). Crouch goes on to write:

“The power to love, and in loving, to create together, is the true power that hums at the heart of the world. The power to conspire, dominate and eventually become single, isolated, lonely god is lifeless and ultimately powerless. True power comes from the very creativity and love that Nietzschean power would extinguish” (Crouch, 52).

Both love and trust guide power to its proper end. I referred to the diminishers earlier as “poor leaders.” I think it’s important to say something about poverty. As I said earlier, a series of unexpected connections led to my friendship with Steve. Those connections enriched my life and gave me more power. The same is also true of Steve. Through me he gained access to others from which he can learn and whom he can teach. “Poverty is the absence of linkages, the absence of connections with others” (quote from Jayakumar Christian, as quoted by Crouch, 23). The “diminisher” and the alt-right crowd have this in common. They are both impoverished by their belief in a static amount of power in the world. This belief keeps them from loving and trusting relationships with the “other” in their world. As Crouch reminds us:

“Because the ability to make something of the world is in a real sense the source of human well-being, because true power multiplies capacity and wealth, when any human beings live in entrenched powerlessness, all of us are impoverished” (Crouch, 19).

Conclusion

While the protestors believe they are protesting the loss of power, I believe they fear a loss of privilege. “Privilege is the ongoing benefits of past successful exercises of power” (Crouch, 150). Privilege is, as Crouch notes, indifferent, if not often blind, to whether the original acts of power were creative (true power) or oppressive (Nietzschean power) (Crouch, 153). Steve bears witness to another way, a different world, one not ruled by the beliefs of Nietzsche. In the world occupied by Steve and me, there is freedom. Steve, indifferent to his privileged status, humbly taught me to count my pennies rightly. Given my line of work, it’s possible I may one day exceed Steve in wealth. We both don’t worry about that because we know it means there is simply more power for us to pay forward for the flourishing of yet another. In this, we see a glimpse of justice. So, does justice have to be a zero-sum game?