I've been reading Kester Brewin's pieces on "piracy" as a motif of Christian innovation and faithfulness. I feel compelled to write my own little critique of some ideas and approaches that are gaining considerable currency amongst many of us concerned to see the church engaging in creative mission. Kester explores the image of the "pirate" as a fruitful archetype of someone who bucks the system, kicks against empire, and releases "goods for all". His argument is that the church is in a block (as Judaism was blocked prior to the coming of Christ; which raises questions in itself) and needs "spiritual" pirates who undermine the exclusive and dominating character of church. These spiritual pirates are the "new heretics", in the pattern of Christ, (the archetypal heretic?), for which the emerging church is an example of. It's not clear what the emerging church's particular heresies are, but St.Paul's stuffy purity is contrasted with the bawdy self-aggrandisement of pirates with relish.
Kester is a very eloquent and stimulating writer, offering a huge amount of creativity to the contemporary church scene but I do want to take issue or at the very least push for some more considered theological reflection. The espousal of "heresy" as a motif reminds me of Pete Rollins' work, also, in particular his books "The Fidelity of Betrayal: Towards a Church Beyond Belief" and "The Orthodox Heretic" which explore similar themes. Again, Pete is a very engaging and creative voice but raises issues for me that we ignore at our peril.
I'll attempt to throw out some points and questions perhaps to begin a conversation that touches on complex philosophical grounds. What I sense in Kester's piece on piracy, and indeed in Pete Rollins' publications, is a de-centred viewpoint. Both are keen to articulate a place from the periphery that is "unorthodox", "heretical" or "piratical", in their terms. I'm reminded of Alasdair MacIntyre's assessment of contemporary society which has lost any sense of objective morality or authority; one that is working with the "fragments" of moral traditions. The arguments are pieced together, magpie-like, from sociology, philosophy, contemporary culture, with the occasional leitmotif of scripture (I won't even begin a critique of the cod-populist vision of Jesus the de-bunker of Jewish tradition, the anti-authoritarian on a mission that is all about correcting the wrong road of Judaism that Kester offers!). But this de-centred moral perspective forgets the one essential lesson of postmodernity: that all our standpoints are situated; there is no "view from nowhere".
What I feel I am left with if I'm to take seriously "the fidelity of betrayal" and a "plea for Christian piracy", is a moral vision centred on the individual and thus a "theology" that is yet another rotten fruit of modernity, (there are times when I wonder whether I should read this material acknowledging a wink and tongue-in-cheek at the hyperbole, but the gravitas afforded published books, my experience of their persuasiveness amongst Christians and the earnest hopes of the project (?) suggest I should be treating them seriously!). Kester and Pete are in danger of articulating something that is always and intrinsically "over and against" (the "empire" of the church). So where is it? Kester poses the question "what should we think of the Somali pirates", suggesting the global geopolitics of western oppression might give an alternative vision of who the real baddies are. Well, if you ask a poor Somali woman whose children have been killed by the Somali warlords growing rich on the piracy (for that is yet another side of the story), the answer would be a no-brainer. The point is that there is a coherent moral vision to be applied, inescapably, and we practice that moral vision in community and in our tradition. What i would describe as "an ecclesiology of iconoclism" is in fact licence for the individualism and self-referencing that i know Pete and Kester would otherwise disdain. The example of the shift from "pirate radio to BBC" and "Napster to Spotify" betray more than a whiff of the romance of the new, the trendy and the latest: a vision of consumerist heaven confirming my suspicions?
The perennial appeal of the "over-against" vision of Christian life plays into a necessary sectarianism, too. It is only in the obscure and the local that God's vision is played out, it seems. So we clearly should step aware from the public square of political engagement, international ecology and partnership with other groups because "establishment" is the real enemy!
Who in our churches are the outsiders, indeed? A question that brings to the fore the need to own our situated viewpoints. If you are a faithful old lady, comforted by Prayer Book communion in a rural parish church that no longer has any paid pastoral support from the diocese: you're entitled to feel on the margins. If you are a black Pentecostal in an inner city treated as an ignorant, rabid fundamentalist by the white, church establishment and the media you would justifiably feel on the margins. And if you're involved in a pioneering home group of Christians bringing creative, multimedia savvy worship in a non-heirarchical team leadership you might rightly feel that you're on the margins. Each of these would also have good reasons to be challenged about their self-perception. And that self-perception can be challenged when we own our part in the wider church body, hearing each other and being responsible to our tradition.
Being faithful is not about betraying, being unorthodox or romanticising ourselves as latter-day pirates, Robin Hoods, Al Capones or whoever. What story are we a part of? If we own the Christian story, we have a responsibility to bless and be blessed by the whole church; to challenge and be challenged by the whole church. There is truth and there is authority; we just don't have the complete take on what that truth and authority is. My discomfort with Kester and Pete is in the illusion that their denial of truth and authority disguises the inevitably alternative truth and authority they project. Truth and authority that comes from I know not where.