Having read all three volumes of Gary Dorrien's masterful history of liberal theology, I am reminded that, as a general rule, theological liberals tended to downplay the question of evil. Indeed, Reinhold Niebuhr made it a central issue in his dialectical criticism of his liberal contemporaries. I agree with Dorrien's view that Niebuhr owed much more to the liberals than he did to the bourgening neo-orthodoxy of his time. I also agree that he overstated his indictment of the flaccidity of liberals on this particular issue. A third area of agreement, but one I think Dorrien does not explore in as much depth as he might have (although, with all that he did do, this is picking one tiny nit out of a beautiful head of hair) is the extent to which Niebuhr's dialectic was oversimplified, almost Manichaean in its dualism, and blind to the specific reality of evil; that is a surprising indictment considering the times in which Niebuhr lived and wrote, but I also think it is true for all that.
Niebuhr famously quipped that original sin is the only Christian doctrine that was objectively verifiable. I think he might better have said that radical evil is a Christian teaching that is objectively verifiable, then spoken of original sin as a Christian understanding and interpretation of radical evil. Be that as it may, both Niebuhr's time and our own furnish abundant evidence on the reality of evil, both personal and social. Whether it is the horrors of Burmese repression; the yoke of unrestrained capitalism run amok; the abusive spouse/parent destroying psyches and lives; or that most heinous example of individual evil, the serial killer - our world is filled with the reality that human beings, both as individuals and as a collective are capable of monstrous crimes against our fellows. The pleas of victims ring in our ears, occasionally drowning out our ability to comprehend a response.
Yet, for all that, we Americans remain almost institutionally incapable not only of calling evil by its name, but of recognizing its ubiquity. I remember the horribly stupid comments of former Secretary of State Alexander Haig on the September 11th attacks, "We lost our innocence." That is quite a claim considering our checkered history. Yet, it remains a persistent myth that the United States is an innocent in the world, going about our affairs of doing good in the world, only to be knocked for a loop by those whose intentions are only evil. In this narrative, it is only the Other who is evil. We are the lamb that is slain, the perpetual virgin, the "shocked, shocked" police captain to discover corruption under his very nose (everyone knows how that particular scene ends).
Some of this sense of our own innocence over and against the evil in Others is the dehumanizing rhetoric too often used when speaking, for example, of those serial killers whose acts destroy any sense of our calm serenity. They are described as "monsters", as "inhuman", as "animals". We recoil from the claim that the difference between them and us is one only of degree rather than of kind. We know we are not capable of tearing down the wall between what is acceptable and what is beyond the pale. We insulate ourselves from the indictment implicit in the criminal act by insisting that "We" would never do what "They" do, that "we" indeed are incapable of such acts.
Yet Christianity (since Luther at any rate) reminds us that the stain of sin is something each of us carries within us. I will leave aside the genetic theory of St. Augustine for the moment, while still insisting that there is something correct in the description of human beings as always wrestling with the reality of our own capacity for horrific acts. I believe that is part of the on-going fascination with each new serial killer, and even those who have (thankfully) passed from our midst - the taboos broken, the depth of depravity to which each successive example plummets catches something heinous in our soul, and we stare in bewildered fascination at the handiwork of these artists of destruction and, however we wish to deny it, we ask ourselves the question, "Am I capable of this kind of horror?"
The answer, of course, is "Yes".
Over the next few days I will explore some thoughts on evil, and some new ways in which we might think, speak, and represent anew for ourselves this question. This is prompted in part by some comments I made over here at Swinging From the Vine:
I would also add that we need to restore the vocabulary and the imagery of the demonic. Evil is something people talk about in whispers, occasionally referring to it obliquely. As Christians, we need to remember that radical evil is the enemy - not we mere humans, who are only its victims. If that means we restore, at some level, talk of a personal Devil, so be it. If nothing else, I have been recently reminded that evil is more than just the personal foibles of an individual, or the collective madness of nations and peoples. Unless Christians, especially American Christians (whose exposure to radical evil on a historical level is minimal), can recapture the depth and breadth of the language of evil as a personal and social force bent on destruction, then I believe our vocabulary is incomplete. I think that only in artistic endeavors can that reclaiming begin; I also think it will take an extraordinary effort of courage to do this.
I think it also necessary to explain that these thoughts have been prompted by some things to which I have been exposed in my own life recently. The need to deal with the issue of evil in an honest manner, to speak the name of that-which-must-not-be-named, is something I find increasingly pressing.
Before anyone think I am boasting of my own "courage" here, I would just add that, this is a blog, and the space for serious, in-depth discussion of these issues and questions is limited. There is also the ever-present reality of commenters who not only keep us honest, but also sometimes distract us with their stupidity.
Having said that, I shall next explore the very nexus of which I wrote in the comment above - the representation of evil for a new era.
