Perhaps the reason I’ve been so uninspired of late in my blogging (besides the fact that I’m just generally ill and exhausted) is because I haven’t received any interesting articles from the FWD circuit. Well, the drought is over.

I read an op-ed piece from the Los Angeles Times this morning about that nebulous term, globalization, and its relationship to radical Islam. We talk about globalization a lot in terms of American multinational corporations—the insidious spread of Starbucks and McDonalds around the world, the exploitation of cheap labor by Wal-Mart and others, all those things. But as this piece points out, there are other forms of globalization out there.

Religious and cultural fundamentalisms strive just as hard to dominate the global scene these days. And such movements particularly appeal to those who have no power in the American form of globalization, or those who feel power slipping out of their grasp. Who signs up to be a suicide bomber? Kids who have grown up in refugee camps, with no stake in the current structure or hope for a better future. Who are Jerry Falwell’s biggest fans? Those men who feel increasingly threatened by a changing country, in which white Protestant men must compete with Latina Catholic women, black Muslim men, Indian Hindu computer programmers, and a host of other diverse people for authority in our increasingly multicultural society.

Marx talked about it in terms of class struggle, but the struggle really is about power rather than money (power just happens to be often tied to money). There is a reason that our Presbyterian ancestors, whose church polity influenced the framers of the American Constitution, were so keen on checks and balances. Even communists, proclaiming equality for the exploited, were too often seduced by power once they had it.

I often hear the complaint (and misconception, at least from my perspective) that feminism is all about women being better than men, women subordinating men. At its best, feminism isn’t about that at all—that’s why it actually meshes so well with the Christian message that we are all beloved creations of God, equally called to live into God’s purpose. Yet feminism and other justice movements aren’t 100% immune to that struggle for dominance, either. Nor is the church, to be honest.

Throughout history, power relations and the struggle for power have defined human existence. It is almost instinctual for us to claim as much power as we can, and to fiercely resist when someone else tries to take that away.

But aren’t we Christians called to something different? Jesus was all about relinquishing his power and authority for others, whether that was in washing his disciples’ feet or dying on the cross. In the endless power struggles between humans, what does it mean to boldly claim our equality as beloved children of God while eschewing control and dominance in the way Jesus did?

The powerless turn to physical violence to attain power. The powerful use other forms of violence—economic exploitation, violence of words, doctrinal violence—to maintain their power. As Christians who are in the world but not of the world, how are we called to resist? How do we speak up with Jesus’ voice, demand respect and equality for the marginalized, but not be seduced by the world’s ongoing power plays in the process?

All I can say is that we pray, worship, and listen for that still, small voice as we seek to live into the Gospel message—that God loves each and every one of us enough to relinquish all power, so that we might be free.

“Then the devil led him up and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world. And the devil said to him, ‘To you I will give their glory and all this authority; for it has been given over to me, and I give it to anyone I please. If you, then, will worship me, it will all be yours.’ Jesus answered him, ‘It is written, “Worship the Lord your God, and serve only God.”’” --Luke 4:5-8

Kelsey

Sorry, your muse was too busy doing his own work.