A Review of Mountains Beyond Mountains

Tracy Kidder, Mountains Beyond Mountains. New York: Random House, 2004.

Mountains Beyond Mountains tells the story of Dr. Paul Farmer, a medical anthropologist and practicing physician whose work in Haiti has made significant inroads in treating tuberculosis and AIDS patients. For those who are interested in learning about the day-to-day realities of healthcare faced by Haitians and others living in underdeveloped countries, this book is an excellent introduction to the issues at hand. While Farmer is not a missionary, his work has been significantly shaped by the best of liberation theology and international development theory. To understand Farmer’s work is to gain insight into many of the issues that missionaries must struggle with as they seek to minister effectively in cross-cultural and poverty-stricken contexts. I highly recommend this book. But beware! Once you pick it up, you won’t be able to put it back down until you’ve finished it.

A detailed review of this book is available here.

A Review of Doing Christian Ethics from the Margins

Miguel A. De La Torre, Doing Christian Ethics from the Margins. Maryknoll: Orbis Books, 2004. xvi + 280 pp. Paperback, $20.00. ISBN 1-57075-551-5.

Written in the same vein as his award-winning Reading the Bible from the Margins (Orbis, 2002), De La Torre's latest book achieves two important objectives. First, it fills a much needed void for instructors looking for an introductory textbook on liberation ethics. Second, it adds to the growing number of Christian voices on the margins that proactively seek to challenge those from the dominant Eurocentric culture in the U.S. to think and act theologically or ethically from the perspective of the disenfranchised. This book is based on an undergraduate course that De La Torre, a Cuban-American professor of religion, taught by the same name at Hope College, a small liberal arts school affiliated with the Reformed Church in America. [Note that De La Torre is currently teaching at Iliff School of Theology in Denver, which is affiliated with the United Methodist Church.]

Doing Christian Ethics is divided into four parts. In part I (chpts. 1-3), De La Torre outlines his understanding of ethical theory, the major contours of which will be recognizable to those already familiar with liberation theology. Beginning with the premise that ethics is done from a particular social location, he points out that educated white males have traditionally dominated ethical discourse in academia. Consequently, their scholarship is not value neutral but reflects their position of privilege and power in society. Common pitfalls that characterize both historic and contemporary Eurocentric ethics include, amongst other things, the ethical dualism that emphasizes (1) spiritual concerns to the exclusion of social concerns, (2) individualism to the neglect of koinonia, (3) grace in favor of works, (4) heaven instead of the here and now, and (5) failure to generate life- and society-transforming praxis. Consciously or unconsciously, ethics done from a position of privilege only serves to reinforce ideologies of power that perpetuate unjust social structures such as racism, classism, and sexism. Because such ethics thwart Christ's mission "that they (the marginalized) may have life, and have it abundantly" (John 10:10), De La Torre challenges his readers to embrace a system of ethics that is consistent with Christ's example of identifying and standing in solidarity with the oppressed.

For De La Torre, the starting point for doing such ethics is reflection on lo cotidiano or the everyday life experiences of the disenfranchised. On this point, De La Torre makes a significant yet welcome departure from typical liberation theologies. Even though he has elsewhere established his identity as a Latino theologian, he deliberately chooses not to limit his ethical reflection to the life experiences of U.S. Hispanics. Instead, he attempts to construct an inclusive approach to ethics that encourages marginalized groups to work together in their common struggle for justice while refusing to allow them to be pitted against each other by dominant culture. One significant omission is that De La Torre draws primarily from the work of liberation ethicists while ignoring the ethical reflections of disenfranchised evangelicals—a sizably larger group from the margins. While this is a perennial oversight of liberation theology in general, exclusion of such a large constituency compromises De La Torre's claim that his ethics are fully grounded in the experiences of the marginalized.

Part I concludes with an outline of De La Torre's own five-step version of the hermeneutic circle, an important tool which moves the reader beyond simply questioning the ethical discourse of the dominant culture or analyzing the social conditions of the disenfranchised. Rather, it encourages the reader to engage in society-transforming praxis. For the reader from the dominant culture, such praxis is not about exchanging social locations with the marginalized but completely leveling and dismantling racist, sexist, and classist power structures. By doing so, the reader moves beyond mere belief, which is inadequate for salvation in and of itself (Jas. 2:19), and embraces the deeds of faith (Jas. 2:17) that are required to work out his or her salvation with "fear and trembling" (Phil. 2:12).

Parts II, III, and IV give the reader an opportunity to apply the hermeneutic circle to a variety of ethical case studies under the broad categories of global relationships, national relationships, and business relationships. Each section is four chapters in length, with the first chapter of each giving an overview of the topic and the remaining three chapters offering a series of case studies under specific subtopics. De La Torre's case studies differ from those in traditional textbooks in that they are not canned stories designed to elicit a theoretically "correct" answer to an abstract question (e.g., Is killing ever justified?) Instead, they are real-life stories, grounded in the experiences of marginalized people, which seek to move the reader beyond "spectator-type" ethics into society-transforming praxis. Only the first three steps of the hermeneutic circle are covered in each case study. They are followed with a series of discussion questions designed to help the reader arrive at a strategy for praxis by reflecting on the remaining hermeneutical steps through the worldview of the marginalized. For the most part, this is an effective pedagogical tool. But since many prospective readers may have little experience at viewing the world through the eyes of the disenfranchised, it would have been helpful if De La Torre had given two or three case studies where he shows how they have been resolved in his own classroom.

De La Torre's choice of case studies is interesting as it demonstrates how even something as simple as deciding what topics are worthy of ethical reflection is determined by one's social location. Not surprisingly, topics such as genetic technologies and human cloning—standard fare in most contemporary ethics textbooks—are omitted as they are issues far removed from the everyday experience of the disenfranchised. In contrast, De La Torre includes an entire section on business ethics, focusing on topics such as corporate accountability, affirmative action, and private property—concerns that directly impact the marginalized yet rarely, if ever, are addressed in mainstream Christian ethics texts. Most telling—perhaps a reflection of De La Torre's own social location as a middle-class male—is the conspicuous absence of case studies on topics such as prostitution, domestic abuse, abortion, and birth control—all of which are crucial for women on the margins. Nevertheless, De La Torre has succeeded in providing sufficient methodological background that creative instructors will find this book to be a good starting point for considering ethics from the margins in their own classes as well as writing additional case studies that consider the life experiences of marginalized people from other social locations.

De La Torre makes a compelling theological case that those from the dominant culture find their salvation by giving up their power and privilege so that those on the margins can live the abundant life. More importantly, he provides the necessary ethical tools for committed readers to engage in society-transforming praxis. Even so, this is a message that many in the dominant culture will find difficult to accept. And while some might readily give their theological and mental assent to the truth of his words, the real question is how many of us will actually engage in the praxis that De La Torre's method calls for.

This review originally appeared in the Denver Journal.

A Review of Three Months with Revelation

Justo L. González, Three Months with Revelation. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2004. 184 pp. Paperback, $11.00. ISBN 0-687-08868-2

Unlike many of the current popular writings on Revelation, this new devotional guide is not just another outline of end-times events. Instead, Justo González--a Cuban American theologian--approaches Revelation in light of the oppressive context of the Roman Empire in which it was written, arguing that it sought to comfort and bring hope to persecuted churches in Asia Minor. Consequently, its primary significance for today is that it serves as a call to obedience amidst hardship and persecution. Though, it is often misread as a message of terror by those who enjoy economic privilege while living in spiritual complacency.

First published as Tres Meses en la Escuela de Patmos (Abingdon, 1997), this translation now makes an important perspective from Latino/a biblical interpretation accessible to English-speaking readers. Having previously authored two other books on Revelation (see here and here) as well as several additional devotional titles in his Three Months series, González is eminently qualified to share his expertise on Revelation in an easy-to-read devotional format that is appropriate for either individual or group study.

Three Months proceeds through the book of Revelation sequentially, dividing the book into thirteen separate weeks that are in turn subdivided into seven daily readings. Each reading offers an analysis of the daily text that is organized according to the inductive approach (see-judge-act) typical of liberation theology. In order to facilitate the book’s use by study groups, the final reading for each week is double in length and includes a section on recommended group activities.

Typical of González’ previous work in biblical interpretation, Three Months’ strength lies in its sensitivity to the context of empire that shaped the life of the early church as well as its ability to draw lessons from that context for today’s churches. This becomes especially apparent by the second week of the study which discusses the seven letters to the churches (Rev. 2-3). Two of these churches—Philadelphia and Laodicea—are at opposite ends of the spiritual and economic continuums. Philadelphia was economically poor and spiritually rich in contrast to Laodicea, which was economically rich and spiritually poor. Noting that this reflects a general tendency for poor, persecuted churches to be faithful to God and wealthy, unpersecuted churches to be unfaithful, González challenges his readers to consider how their own comfort and complacency keeps them from faithfulness and what they might do to more closely follow the example of Philadelphia rather than Laodicea. In subsequent weeks, González develops this emphasis on faithfulness further, showing how it goes beyond mere personal morality to include one’s social responsibility and political commitments as well. Needless to say, such analysis will probably be uncomfortable for readers whose interests are closely aligned with those of today’s empire.

A weakness of Three Months is that, in order to spread the material out evenly over a three month period, the daily studies often use artificially short snippets of text where two or three days worth of reading might more comfortably be combined into one. This results in a pace of study that sometimes creeps along much too slowly, making it difficult for readers to keep the big picture in mind. While such a problem is not unexpected in a devotional guide, it is a nuisance that detracts from an otherwise high quality work.

I normally tend to avoid using devotional guides, finding most to be superficial and unchallenging. But González was different, offering a deep theological analysis of scripture while simultaneously sharing it in a way that can be easily understood and applied. More importantly, his words are a challenge to all Christian believers who wish to heed Revelation’s call to obedience amidst the oppression of empire.

A Review of The Prophet and Power

Bob Corbett has recently written a very lengthy and detailed review of Alex Dupuy's new book on Jean-Bertrand Aristide, titled The Prophet and Power (Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, 2006).

Basically, the book is a survey of Aristide's influence on Haiti and Haitian politics, beginning with his early days as a liberation theology priest in the 1980s until he was ousted from in his most recent presidency in early 2004.

Unlike most of what has been written about Aristide in the English language press during the past twenty years, Corbett argues that Dupuy's analysis tends to avoid an either/or dichotomy, providing a more nuanced interpretation of Aristide's legacy:

Alex Dupuy’s over-arching thesis is quite different. He makes a strong case that this story lacks any blameless good folks. Whether it is Aristide’s person and personality, the activities of his party and supporters, or any one or group of his Haitian opposition or the U.S.-led international community, each and everyone comes in for severe and intelligent criticism. There just isn’t, on Dupuy’s account, a “right” or “good” side in this story for the country of Haiti. It is a terrible tragedy of the repeated history of the fall of one failed state, being replaced by an equally failed state.

During Aristide's tenure as a parish priest, Corbett explains:

The first Aristide is, on Dupuy’s account, an appealing figure, but with a radical contradiction in his person and views. I am impressed and persuaded by Dupuy’s analysis that THIS early Aristide is best understood as a man of contradictory tendencies (italics mine): a reformer with a true passion to bring about reforms consistent with the liberation theology concept of “the preferential option of the poor,” yet as a personal revolutionary and one who sees himself as not only a prophet, but as a leader not responsible to others.

Later upon being elected to the presidency of Haiti, these contradictions in Aristide's personality coupled with Haiti's volatile internal situation proved to be his undoing:

He preached democracy and revved up a great deal of support for this notion, yet he had an almost impossible time acting democratically within Lavalas or as president. He seemed deeply committed to his own vision and one was either with him or against him. The clash was devastating.

More importantly, he preached democracy, seems to have wanted a rule by law, but faced enormous forces against him, many of which were using physical force. Thus the more revolutionary, prophetic Aristide turned to the non-democratic “power of the people” to protect him.

Perhaps what got Aristide in the greatest mess was his advocacy of and refusal to deny the use of Pere Lebrun (fiery necklacing of people with tires). Not only was this a terrifying threat to government officials and opposition people in the bourgeoisie. It was a frightening inconsistency – at times Aristide seemed to be agreeable to working with the opposition and compromising here and there, and at other times he would be talking of how wonderful this tool was. It created strong doubt in the minds of many of the reliability of any alliance with Aristide.

I have long argued that Aristide had a brilliant career as a liberation theology priest who helped to bring about the demise of Haiti's corrupt Duvalier regime, but that he failed dismally as Haiti's first freely elected president. Dupuy's book helps us to understand why. Clearly, The Prophet and Power is a must-read book for anyone interested in understanding the legacy of Jean-Bertrand Aristide as well as the broader issues of why Haiti remains stubbornly ungovernable.