Last week I watched the new release Thor (2011), and this morning I awoke reflecting upon the “alien.” Over the years I have grown more and more frustrated with how, as a culture, we represent our engagement with “aliens.” And, now, I will finally put my ideas on electronic paper and submit them to the feedback of the generous and keen readers of Liberal Evangelical.

I joke with my wife that during my youth and college days I kept moving so far to the right that I woke up one day on the left. I'm not the first person to undergo this strange metamorphosis and there may be very good reasons for it. However, before diving into the bubbling cauldron of political ideals, I should pause to defend this post as relevant to the Liberal Evangelical project.

Anyone who has read Lost in the Middle? and/or Found in the Middle! knows that one of the primary concerns of LiberalEvangelical.org is to create loving Christian communities centered around the life and witness of Jesus Christ. We believe that such communities have many important rolls to play in the world, among these, Liberal Evangelical communities are dedicated to living in love with difference. Our focus is on finding ways to sustain heterogeneous communities in which peoples of different races, creeds, ethnicities and political persuasions can all worship together. Too many Evangelical churches create tightly knit homogeneous communities by focusing on ideological and doctrinal purity. We aim to be Liberal insofar as we shun purity in favor or inclusion. To this end, today's post is dedicated to an odd topic: a spirited defense of Conservatism.

I am convinced that many Christian conservatives may have more in common with Liberal Evangelicals than one might expect, if we can look past tired culture war hot button issues and focus on deeper ideals and values.

But Lord, I was only exercising my constitutional rights.

I'm surprised by how little attention a recent event has gotten in the American press. It seems that the Florida "pastor" who had been threatening to burn the Koran, did so. It also appears that the mainline press did the responsible thing and didn't give this demagogue the media attention he craved. Would that the story ended there.

But Lord, I am not responsible for the murderous actions of religious zealots on the other side of the globe.

"Pastor" Terry Jones' decision to send some kind of message by burning the Muslim scriptures ended up costing at least 12 UN peacekeepers (PEACEKEEPERS!) their lives.

His actions were commented on by the Afghani President, and a mob of extremists in Afghanistan reacted by attacking UN peacekeepers and beheading at least two of them.

But Lord, I was standing up for the Bible.

"Pastor" Jones's reaction was straightforward, though it's worth reading the entire NY Times article for the necessary context.

Jones replied, “Emotionally, it’s not all that easy. People have tried to make us responsible for the people who are killed. It’s unfair and somewhat damaging.”

Of course the Afghani President and the murderous mob is responsible, but responsibility is not a zero sum game.

Martin Luther King, Jr., when speaking about the parable of the Good Samaritan, would frequently encourage that we not forget a key feature of the story—the context. The Good Samaritan became the “Good” Samaritan because he, and only he, responded to the plight of an assaulted traveler. And, when interpreting this parable, King, without diminishing the praiseworthiness of the Samaritan’s acts, asks “What about the conditions that give rise to the abuse of travelers in the first place?” “Why is the road to Jericho so dangerous to innocent travelers?” His profound interpretation urges us to continually penetrate into the deeper causes of violence and harm in order to ameliorate them, and this urging is challenging, helpful, and necessary; yet, sometimes devastating events occur that transcend the pitfalls of social structures, and when such events occur, we are thrown back on the call to be the rescuers, those who render immediate aid. And, the recent earthquake and tsunami that demolished and devastated Japan is just such an event.

As I drove to work this morning I listened to an NPR retrespective on the history of US relations with Gaddafi over the years. I was most struck by some of the comments made by Presidents Reagan and Carter—Carter called him a skunk! In the eyes of America Gaddafi went from being a freedom fighter to a ruthless dictator. He then became a kind of ally in the fight against terrorism and, it seems, he is now back to being thought of as a dictator. I realize that his actions over the decades were erratic, so some waffling in U.S. foreign policy is to be expected, but it also seems likely that our opinion of him and his regime has shifted to and fro as our perception of our own interests has evolved. So then I ask, what are our interests…and more importantly…what should our interests be?

Let’s notice a few things about our reactions to the events surrounding the protests and revolutions happening in North Africa and the Middle East. I’m not particularly interested in the media coverage of the events. I want to look instead at North Americans, the lookers-at-a-distance. Because that is all that most of us do, myself included. We look.

Well, if we’re honest, we worry as we look. Most of us look on and worry about what this all means for us. We see young Muslim women and men facing down armed riders on camel and horseback and, standing up against anti-tank weapons being fired at civilians. But just as a young man’s thoughts inevitably turn to love in the Spring, our thoughts turn to the mundane things of our lives and the possible effects that the revolutions on the other side of the globe might have on us.

I must admit that I’ve put off considering the issue in this blog in part because I always try to let events stew a bit so that I might write more considerately, but also because I legitimately do not know whether or not these revolutions are the kind of events on which Liberal Evangelicals can stand united. Rest assured dear reader, this will not be a call to repentance. I will not chide you or myself for thinking primarily of spiking gas prices and potential terrorist safe havens. It is inevitable that all of us consider most and first those ramifications that will directly impact our families, our jobs, and our nations. It is inevitable, but we oughtn’t be blind to the fact that our immediate interests as Western consumers and citizens may not align with our long term interests as Christians and world citizens. So I ask, can we identify at least a few core principles on which we are willing to stand united? Allow me to offer up a few candidates.

Katrina, Haiti, the Gulf—we hear news reports as these calamitous events transpire; we see pictures that evoke empathy, sympathy, and compassion; we have and hear discussions about relief efforts and rebuilding enterprises. But, after a few days these stories fade to the background of the news cycle. As the days and weeks pass, references become more and more infrequent, and, as a result, concern for the affects and aftermath of these events begins to shift to more current happenings. Yet, occasionally, a news report revisits the past and inquires into the status of the recovery project. Seth Borenstein’s article “Scientist finds Gulf Bottom still Oily, Dead” for the Associated Press is one such report.

“Toe-may-toe,” “ta-mah-toe”…. cheddar or Swiss, pen-stripped or plaid, romance or action, Dial or Dove, Bounty or Brawny… many of the choices that we encounter in our day-to-day activities are inconsequential. Most likely, it makes very little qualitative or quantitative difference which alternatives we actualize. Yet, sometimes, these choices are consequential. Sometimes there are moments in our day when what we do or don’t do, what we concentrate on or gloss over, who we listen to or who we ignore radically impacts our lives, the lives of our loved ones, the lives of others, and the environment that we live in. Sometimes these choices are binary, like the examples above, but this is not always the case. Sometimes there are multitudinous alternatives, each with their own pains-pleasures, efficiencies-inefficiencies, goods-evils, blessings-curses, harms-healings, benefits-costs; and, in these cases, we feel pulled, tried, confused, and challenged as our values and aims encounter intricate obstacles. Expectedly, members of congress frequently encounter such trying situations while navigating the legislative process; and, a recent report by The Washington Post highlights one such situation.

Several months ago a visitor to LiberalEvangelical.org posted the following comment. I intended to respond, but the holidays got in the way and then world events interfered, and before I knew it, almost one third of a year had passed. Well, I think it’s time.

On October 7, 2010 a visitor wrote:
“So what makes you evangelical? Do you believe in hell? If so then you're a horrible, heartless person. Do you believe the Bible is the literal word of God? Including the homophobic parts? If so, then you must be either very conflicted or very disingenuous. And if you don't believe these things, then what makes you evangelical? Is it just a word that you enjoy saying?”

The questions themselves are not difficult to answer. In order I’d say the following.

I’m an evangelical because I believe in the good news of Jesus Christ.

No.

No.

No.

I’m an evangelical because I believe in the good new of Jesus Christ and do not think that the Gospel is the same thing as the literal text of scripture.

Yes, I enjoy saying the word for two reasons. First, it is true. Second, it shatters expectations. Liberal and Evangelical have contradicting connotations in the culture wars, but we put them together to emphasize that the ideas themselves are not contradictory when we get past stereotypes and get down to the roots.

Now that I’ve given honest answers, let’s get to the more important issue. There is some obvious pain behind these questions, pain that we all need to think about addressing. Let’s meet that pain head on.

Difference is about us at every turn. You may be tall; I may be short. You may enjoy reading books; I may enjoy watching movies. You may value urban life; I may cherish country living. You may call for lower taxes; I may vote for an increase. You may be a vegetarian; I may be a carnivore. You may be heterosexual; I may be homosexual. You may pray to the Christian God; I may pray to Allah. Differences in lifestyles, tastes, and values are ubiquitous. And, when considering differences of values on the level of nation states, one must seriously consider how differences are going to be negotiated by means of public policy.

We all are still painfully aware of the death dealing violence perpetrated by Jared Lee Loughner on the 8^th of January. Our memories are still capable of recalling the eerie mug shot of a man who had just wounded 14 people and stole the lives of 6 others. Representative Gabrielle Giffords, who was conducting a “Congress on your Corner” session, was Loughner’s primary victim, and though he failed to assassinate her, he did manage to inject into her life (and the lives of her loved ones) indescribable physical and psychological trauma. As we stand awestruck by Loughner’s cruelty, many of us ask, “What causes someone to do such a thing?”

On December 24, 1968 Apollo 8 astronauts snapped the picture now known as “Earthrise.” Earthrise captures, for the first time in human history, the Earth rising over the lunar landscape. Upon first sight of this magnificent event astronaut Frank Borman said in quiet awe, “Oh my God! Look at that picture over there! Here's the Earth coming up. Wow, is that pretty.”* Once the photograph was released it became for many around the globe an iconic image representing both human solidarity and human frailty. Now, Forty-three years later, the opportunity to behold the grandeur of the Earth from space has been extended beyond supremely skilled astronauts to the outstandingly affluent.

We try here at LiberalEvangelical.org to avoid knee-jerk reactions. So often our immediate impulse, when faced with shocking events, is simply to lash out in an emotional and habitual manner. We strive to avoid this kind of impulsive action, though I’m sure we sometimes fail. All of us sometimes fail.

When the Arizona shooting occurred, I fought the impulse to run to my keyboard. Many other commentators did not, and I can understand the fact that many of them work on deadlines that do not apply to me so I won’t offer recriminations. Recriminations abound in our society, adding to them seems fruitless.

But I’m glad that I had the opportunity to think and listen for a while before responding.

As both of my loyal readers know, I’m not a terribly partisan fellow. I’ve voted for Republicans, Independents, and Democrats in my voting life. And as this blog has shown over the years, I’m interested in politics primarily as a source of lessons and metaphors regarding the challenges of living with difference. I look to the political realm to help me reflect on the ecclesiological world: How can we worship and work together as a single Body of Christ even as we maintain our doctrinal, social, and stylistic differences? With this in mind, I can’t and won’t respond directly to the tragic deaths and injuries in Arizona. Any second hand analysis that I might offer would be useless. Instead, I’ll merely talk about personal responsibility and re-ask Cane’s questions, perhaps the most profound question ever put to God in the Bible. “Am I my brother’s keeper?”