Postmodernism: Does it mean what you think it means?

(Photo credit Sairam Sundaresan)

By Zach Schmitt

Say the word “postmodernism” in Christian circles and you will likely be met with blank stares or disdainful reactions. Some may consider philosophical movements too abstract and distant to affect the average Christian, others may see them as dangerous and harmful. But whether we care or not, outside forces do shape and mold the church, and it is vital that we are aware of what is happening.

Christianity was born into a very pre-modern world. Its longevity, however, has meant that it has had to face the rise and fall of many philosophies and movements. During its entire existence it has faced a multitude of opponents starting with pre-modern paganism and continuing into postmodern a/theology. I will attempt to track and define these oppositions. Additionally, I will note the influence these movements have had on Christianity, and if Christianity can ever be called modern or postmodern.

While the title addresses strictly postmodernism, I feel it would be difficult to describe without first setting the stage with the philosophical movement of modernism

The Rise of Reason: Modernism

The Enlightenment brought with it a fair share of opposition toward Christianity. Open opposition, such as Nietsche’s declaration, “God is dead,” did less to attack Christianity as did the rise of Reason. Science became the “Prince of the Age,” and man began to look to himself as the center of all things. Naturalism, found in the science of Darwin and others, believed that all that could be known came from this world. The individualism found in the works of Descartes, Kant, and Hume meant that man could come to knowledge strictly by his own abilities; he did not need an outside force to instruct him. Optimism in science led many to believe that we were constantly progressing upward. Science had replaced the need for a god.

Christianity was met with these challenges and responded in several ways. The first response saw many turn to Deism. A God existed but only an impersonal one; we could not know Him or have a personal relationship with Him. There was a clockmaker, but not a Father. Secondly, others, viewing the benefits of humanism, began to adopt a Social Gospel which preached freedom from oppression instead of freedom strictly from sin. This twist in Christian thinking took the focus off of man’s spiritual self and turned it to his physical self. Man began to find himself at the center of even Christianity. Ultimately these movements mostly failed or found themselves marginalized in Christian circles, but some aspects of modernism still exist in Christianity. Chiefly, the individualism of modern thought can be found in Protestantism. When Martin Luther found himself in front of a Catholic trial at the Diet of Worms, he stated, “Here I stand. God help me.” He stood alone on his own reason and challenged the very structures of the Catholic Church. Luther’s use of reason has continued. Christians have continued to search and construct apologetics based on human reason and many pastors today fit logical constructions into their preaching. While they certainly come with their own challenges, these elements of modernism have been helpful in connecting with the modern world while at the same time remaining faithful to biblical principles.

Caution Deconstruction Ahead: Postmodernism

Perhaps the Church’s acceptance of several modern ideals has led it to so strongly oppose the beliefs of postmodernism. Certainly postmodernism, like modernism, has not been kind to Christianity. Jacques Derrida strongly opposed the idea of a transcendental signifier, or a god who could rise above and explain truth to us. Jean-Francois Lyotard and postmodernists after him have railed against the idea of a metanarrative, or a story to explain other stories. Michel Foucalt’s web or network of knowledge made total knowledge of truth impossible—there is too much to grasp. Furthermore, relativism has been misconstrued by some followers of postmodernism to mean that all conception of truth are equally valid. This ambiguity and deconstruction of truth is at great opposition to Christianity’s absolute message. But, as with modernism, elements of postmodernism have been adopted by Christianity.

With the rise of postmodernism, came the rise of post-colonialism. Edward Said discusses in his text Orientalism that the West has created a strange and mysterious image of the Orient and declared this to be real. This has led to a fundamental misunderstanding of culture and created a dominant Western way of life. Many Christian missionaries in the modern era believed that a Christianizing of an indigenous people meant changing their culture to a Western lifestyle. This was in many ways unhelpful and even dangerous. However, a rise in postmodern thinking has brought with it a beneficial questioning of Western beliefs. Recently, a group of missionaries witnessing to a tribe in Southeast Asia faced a challenging situation when, after the tribe’s leader accepted Christ, the whole tribe came forward to communally accept Christian beliefs. The missionaries were at first uncertain what to do.  Didn’t these people have to make the decision to accept Christ their own? The concept of group conversion is foreign to a Western Christian because of how tied our beliefs are to ourselves. Individualism has unnecessarily embedded itself deeply in our faith. The New Testament has several stories where a head of a household believes and is baptized with his entire household, the example of the Philippian jailer in Acts 16 being the most prevalent. These actions are foreign to Westerners, but not wrong in light of Biblical witness

The Church’s Response

Is a postmodern Christianity possible? I do not believe that it is just as a modern or Eastern or Roman Christianity is not possible. Christianity is its own entity entirely: transcending movements, cultures, and philosophies. If the Church wraps itself up in a particular movement, like parts of it tried with modernism, then it loses sight of its basis. Deism and the Social Gospel were unsuccessful because they limited God and elevated man; in much the same way, the Emergent Church (perhaps the most apparent postmodern Christian movement) was so muddled by plurality and anti-foundationalism that it is all but completely dead.

With that said, the church can certainly use postmodern ideals to connect with this postmodern world. The demariginalization formulated by Judith Barth and the widening of “the circle” that Iris Young proposes present Christianity with an interesting opportunity. The modern ideal of a rich, athletic, white male should not be the only one that the Church attempts to reach. Christianity would do well to demonstrate a love to the people on the outside—after all Jesus ate and worked with the outcasts of Jewish society. Moreover, the evil beast that is relativism in the Church’s view could be used for great benefit in witnessing. Richard Rorty, when describing relativism in his text “Solidarity or Objectivity,” said there is nothing to say about truth apart from the societies in which we live. Living in a postmodern, relativistic world the Church could easily agree that our view of truth is limited by our culture, but that there is someone who stands outside of and beyond the world in which we live who can transcend these barriers: that someone being God. Finally, even in the postmodern world of today, science still holds a tight grip on what is considered to be truth. But David Griffin in his work Reenchantment of Science proposes a view that truth exists outside of science–existing in poetry and music and in countless other fields that cannot be quantified. His conclusion shows us that to limit truth to one field limits our humanity!

Christianity cannot get bogged down in movements, in philosophies, or in anything of this world. It must always live beyond these ideas. But that does not mean that it cannot adopt and use elements of these movements to focus and to maximize its work. Paul used the idol with no name to evangelize to the Greeks, and we can use postmodernism (and modernism) to share God’s love to our world.

In Defense of One Hero

This article is written as part of our mini-series on heroes. Read Samuel Schmitt explain why multiple heroes are a good thing here.

(Photo Credit Pawel Kuczynski)

By Zach Schmitt

“Your heroes are dead

They were all in your head

When nothing is left we’ll start again.”

Project 86’s song “Your Heroes are Dead” tells us a story of great import. Our heroes are imaginary, failing, and ultimately harmful to our spiritual development. Mere men will always fall short of the example that we need to follow—if we look to them we will always be disappointed. This passage is a difficult one to write. Our world has always been filled with legendary stories of great men (and women) who have done incredible deeds. From the ancient Beowulf myth to the contemporary stories of Batman, from King Saul in Israel to Napoleon in Imperial France we see the story of heroes permeate cultures through time and geography. It is of my opinion that when we are talking about heroic figures we must split them up into two figures: real, historical figures and fictional characters. In the following I will argue that both are insufficient models for the Christian to pursue. I must clarify before I begin that I am not throwing the entire concept of the hero-figure off the moral cliff; I believe that there are very important elements that can be revealed in heroic individuals, but with these beneficial aspects come several important cautions.

“Folks need heroes, Chief. It gives them hope.” –Sergeant Johnson, Halo 2

The above quote comes from the introduction to the second Halo when Master Chief is on his way to receive a medal for his heroic actions in a previous conflict. Master Chief is reluctant to spend time in the spotlight, until Sergeant Johnson repeats to him the well-worn line we have all heard: we need heroes because we need hope. I agree. But any hope that we place in fallible man is nothing more than false hope. We can never find a man who will provide the expectations that we seek in them. We will always be let down. The most recent Batman movies offer a very similar proposition as Sergeant Johnson, but instead of holding to the statement, we see by series end that perhaps what people need more than heroes is truth.

King David was a man after God’s own heart. He slayed Israel’s great foe, Goliath, and killed tens of thousands of the giant’s countrymen. He wrote hundreds of praises and songs to God and poured out repentance for the sins he had committed. David is perhaps the best example we have been given of a true hero figure. Perhaps just as famous as David’s triumphs, however, may be his greatest failure. He steals the wife of one of his best soldiers and has him murdered on the field of battle. On top of it all, David acts as though he has gotten away with everything! Once he has been called on his sin by the prophet Nathan, David does come to repentance, but not without grave loss to his family (For generations!) and to the nation of Israel. Does this fit into our conception of a hero? Would you ever see a movie about this?

When my cousin was in grade school she was obsessed with the Abraham. “He’s the coolest!” she used to say. But as her weekly Bible study went on she began to learn more about him. Eventually she got to the story of Abraham’s time in Egypt. She heard about how he decided to make his own path by leaving the Promised Land in times of trouble and handing over his wife when times got even tougher. Abraham, this huge figure in her life, had just fallen to the same sins that she did. My cousin was pretty shocked and angered by this development and she went on about how much she hated Abraham for several weeks. I am pretty sure she has moved on at this point, but I can’t help but be reminded of how many times I have felt just like my cousin. No matter how much I admire or look up to someone they will always fail to live up to the image I have created for them. Perhaps what we find most shocking is that no man is better off than our own selves. Of course, we have had this warning for quite some time. Romans 3:23 tells us, “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” We are all fallen, none of us can offer hope. Folks needs heroes, but we cannot be them and neither can David or Abraham.

Fictional heroes are more prevalent in our thinking, but are they any more useful for us to emulate? There is no doubt that heroes of fiction can demonstrate a higher and more consistent moral character than that of real men. Captain America seemingly never wavers from his convictions. He always does the right thing in spite of hardships and every kind of opposition. Luke Skywalker faces off against the greatest evil in the galaxy and he does it without the help of a targeting computer or much training in the Force. Yet somehow he still manages to defeat the greatest forces of evil—both in the Empire and within himself. These two characters and countless others have been the models for boys for half a century, and yet we have seen no moral improvement in the upcoming generations. What is ultimately difficult with these characters is that when you try to live out their positive traits in your own life you find that you are incapable to grab that remote with the Force and even less so to always make the right decision. Fictional characters are just that, fiction. They are another unattainable ideal.

I see only a little use in the portrait of the conventional hero; the anti-hero, however, has great potential. The idea of an anti-hero is a literary device that changes the expectations of what a hero is supposed to be. Han Solo (Star Wars), Jay Gatsby (The Great Gatsby), Rick Grimes (The Walking Dead), and Malcom Reynolds (Firefly) are a few better known examples of the place of the anti-hero in story-telling (Christopher Nolan’s Batman is another prominent example, but he was just a bit too close to the conventional hero for me to consider). Each exhibits different flaws and imperfections; none are always examples we can look up to, but all of them do occasionally exhibit strong moral characteristics. These are often portrayed in ways that involved very difficult decision making, self-sacrifice, and often great loss. The truth is that doing the right thing is not always easy and it always comes with a cost. Luke 9:23 says, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.” It is a daily battle, a daily struggle and we will fall, but ultimately we know that the reward at the end is worth it. Truth is a vital component of the hope that we have, and I think we see a much truer story in certain anti-heroes.

Is there any such thing as a real hero? Yes. One. The One who offered true salvation and lived a perfect life. He controlled the largest empire ever and defeated each of his foe’s attacks. He sacrificed Himself to save His people and defeated Death. Jesus, the Savior of the world, and His actions are the most impacting of all time. If we were ever to follow after one man, one archetype, it is Him. Folks don’t need heroes, they need a hero who offers Hope and Jesus is the only person who can.

Men will always fall short, real or imagined. How should we respond? The answer is certainly not to discard all of our hero stories and look up to no one. Augustine once said to believers that wherever “truth may be found, it belongs to his Master”. The same can be said for any truth in men—ultimately it points back to the Creator. Some men really do contain good character and strong moral standings. The actions we can admire in those men are actions that reflect the life and commands of Christ; we should emulate them in their goodness. At the same time, we should be careful not to place our hope in those men—because they will never offer us the Hope we need. Let’s not outright abandon the hero stories, but let’s abandon the common image of them. If we do not, we will find ourselves helpless at the worst possible time. Hope is only truly found in the Son of God.

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What do you think? Do the dangers of heroes outweigh the benefits? Let us know in the comments.

In Defense of Heroes

 This article is written as part of our mini-series on heroes. Read Zach Schmitt explain why heroes may be more detrimental then helpful here.

 

Phtoto Credit: Heather Hart @ Heather Hart Studio

By Samuel Schmitt

Heroes have fallen out of favor. From The Walking Dead to Watchdogs, it is the anti-hero, not the hero, who is ascendant. Our protagonists are deeply flawed and selfish, frequently saving the day more by accident than anything else. We relate to them, see ourselves in them, and empathize with their struggles, but we don’t look up to them, not really. Moreover, we take joy in removing heroes from their pedestals, in fault finding those lauded for virtue, in bringing everyone down to the same level. We don’t like the idea some people are better then others in any respect, so we try to find the worst in everyone to justify our own problems. This is nothing new. In Tides of War, one of the characters explains why Athens condemned Socrates,

“Men hate him for this (his goodness), because to acknowledge his nobility is to concede their own baseness, and this they can never do.”

I have no problem with the rise of the “realistic” anti-hero. I acknowledge that all human beings are fallen, and everyone has problems. However, we don’t just do our heroes harm when we seek to lower everyone to the same moral level, we harm to ourselves, because whether we like it or not, we need heroes.

What is a hero?

The English word hero was first used in the mid-14th century and was derived from a pair of Greek words meaning “protector” and “defender.” According to Merriam-Webster, one of the primary definitions is “a person who is admired for great or brave acts or fine qualities.” The Meriram-Webster definition is the type of hero we’re referring to here. The person can be real or fictitious, Abraham Lincoln or Frodo Baggins. The important part is that he is someone with admirable traits, generally exercised for the benefit of others.

Note that they don’t have to be perfect. They just have to be admirable. Consequently, I propose that they don’t have to be virtuous in every area of life to be admirable in one or several areas. I don’t have to applaud King David’s polygamy to admire his love for God. I don’t have to endorse George Washington’s theology to admire how he resisted repeated attempts by others to give him more power. I don’t have to embrace Luke Skyewalker’s whininess (to put it politely) in order to admire the mercy he showed his (spoilers) father in the end. This principle is so universal and common-sensical* that it hardly needs statement. Virtually everyone has a friend, parent, mentor, or sibling that they admire and want to be like in one area of their life but not in others. A realistic view of our heroes is necessary, but having the heroes themselves is also necessary.

Heroes Embody Abstract Virtues

 

Integrity is an abstract virtue. I could explain it in terms of remaining true to your beliefs, elevating principle over social pressure and living authentically; or I could point at Captain America. You’d likely forget my explanation, but you’d probably not forget his example. Abstract, ethereal virtues seem unreal when spoken about as merely virtues, but tell a story (whether fiction or non-fiction) about someone living out a virtue and suddenly the virtue has become real.

Humans love stories. More importantly, humans remember stories, because stories are relatable. You have probably forgotten most of the equations your high school math teacher taught you, but I would bet money you remember at least some of the stories that your history teacher told you. Likewise, a lecture on the value of integrity would put someone to sleep, but a story about Captain America standing up to the mob is memorable. The story would stick with me. The story would inspire me. The story is something I would want to live out.

Heroes Offer a Model

In addition to showing us what an abstract virtue is, heroes show us how to live them out. Tolkien shows how to write a fantasy world into existence. Sergeant York shows how to fight with both strength and mercy. Nehemiah shows how to lead a discouraged team. Heroes are the moral pioneers; they show us give us a map we can follow or, at the very least, a place to start.

Obviously, for the Christian, the ultimate example of this is Christ. But having Christ as our primary hero does not mean we cannot have any other, lesser examples to look up to. Christ is the perfect model, but he is not the exclusive model. He has enabled others to be good through His grace, and these can be admired as well, so long as they are not elevated above Him. In fact, the apostle Paul recommends that the Philippian church look to and follow his own example in Philippians 4. These other heroes need not be idols against God; on the contrary, if the Bible is true, then humans are the divine image bearers. Those in our history (and stories) who do good deed are bearing that image of God’s goodness. They don’t detract from His honor; they reflect it.

Heroes Give Us Courage

Even when we know what to do and how to do it, we still often doubt that it can be done. Fear hijacks our imagination and fills us with dread of the future. The hero helps reclaim the imagination for good. As G.K. Chesterton says,

Fairy tales do not give the child his first idea of bogey. What fairy tales give the child is his first clear idea of the possible defeat of bogey. The baby has known the dragon intimately ever since he had an imagination. What the fairy tale provides for him is a St. George to kill the dragon. Exactly what the fairy tale does is this: it accustoms him for a series of clear pictures to the idea that these limitless terrors had a limit, that these shapeless enemies have enemies in the knights of God, that there is something in the universe more mystical than darkness, and stronger than strong fear.

The heroes, invented and real, show us that there is hope. The real heroes, with their real flaws, show us that good can triumph over evil in the real world. The Mother Theresa’s, Martin Luther King Junior’s, and William Wilberforce’s show us that it is possible to make a lasting difference for good in the real world.  The imaginary heroes – the Narnians, Jedi, and Avengers -show us that even our imaginations need not be held in the grasp of fear. Evil, both external and internal, can be overcome.

 

 

*(editor’s note- we reserve the right to make new words)

 

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What do you think? Do the benefits of a heroes outweigh the dangers? Let us know in the comments.