Wesley – Conclusions

What can Wesley do for us today? That has been the issue of all of these lectures. It has been my proposal that he can support Wesleyan evangelicals and free them from their tendency to knee-jerk conservatism, moralism, and negativism. He can support Wesleyan liberals and free them from their tendency to humanism, to relativism, and to half-heartedness. He can support Wesleyan liberationists and free them from their tendency to self-pity, divided loyalty, and fragmentation. He can support Wesleyan process theologians and free them from their tendency to intellectualism, distance from biblical roots, and divided loyalty. He can help all of us to understand better the relation of grace and responsibility and to work out its implications in personal and corporate life.

If each group sat at Wesley’s feet and corrected its weaknesses accordingly, they would still remain distinct. But their differences would no longer be seriously divisive. They would be more matters of emphasis than of rigidly defined positions. Each group could appreciate the emphases of the others and recognize the value of having some group maintain that as their primary focus. The groups would complement one another. The Wesleyan movement as a whole would be strengthened by the diversity.

Of course, the Wesleyan movement would continue to have disagreements within it. Of the many current issues that divide us I take abortion as an example. Not all Wesleyans would agree on whether abortion is ever the most moral choice, and if not whether it should be outlawed or left to the judgment of those most intimately involved.

It would be difficult to guess what position Wesley would take on these issues, and, in fact, it would not matter greatly. The key issues are not ones he addressed or on which central features of his teaching cast any direct light. When does distinctively human life begin? How is the value of the fetus is to be weighed against the needs and desires of the mother? If we come to agreement on these issues as Wesleyans, is it appropriate to attempt to impose our agreement on the wider society through political processes? Or should public policy be broadly permissive, leaving decisions in each case to those most immediately involved?

The divisions I have been discussing would not, in a healthy Wesleyan context, determine answer to the questions about abortion. That is, a Wesleyan evangelical would be open to arguments on both sides of these questions, as would a Wesleyan liberal or liberationist, or process theologian. The current tendency to line up on the issue in terms of the party from which one comes reflects non-Wesleyan aspects of each of the current groups.

Today evangelicals tend to support legislation restricting the freedom of pregnant women to have abortions. But this is more because evangelicals have adopted a conservative stance than because of their evangelical heritage from Wesley. Since the issue is not discussed in the Bible, the greater emphasis of evangelicals on staying close to biblical teachings is irrelevant. The tendency of contemporary evangelicals to appeal to tradition to support conservative positions would be checked by Wesley’s far more selective use of tradition, and much greater openness to current evidence. Wesleyan evangelicals would have to join liberals in a broader appeal to the Bible’s emphasis on God’s care for each individual person and try to work out the implications of that central conviction for these difficult questions.

Similarly, there is nothing about a Wesleyan liberalism that settles these questions. Liberals have often emphasized the sacred worth of each person. Approaching matters from this perspective heightens the importance of the question as to when the fetus becomes a person. Liberals could agree with Augustine that the human soul emerges at quickening and make a sharp distinction between abortions before or after this point. But they may make a different judgment on this point, identifying the beginning of authentically personal life with quickening, or with birth.

If their conclusions restrict the morality of abortion, they face a second decision. Should their conclusions only guide their own decisions, or should they try to pass laws that restrict the behavior of others. There is a tendency in liberal thought to leave as many decisions as possible to individuals rather than to introduce governmental restrictions. On the other hand, this does not apply in cases where a decision seriously injures others. We are thrown back on the question as to when the fertilized cell becomes an "other" to be protected by the state.

Liberationists, similarly, cannot decide these questions easily. They are particularly sensitive to oppression and seek in every way they can to liberate people from it. Feminists have emphasized the age-long oppression of women. They have pointed out that women have not been permitted control of their own bodies. Such control, they often emphasize, should include the freedom of a woman to decide what to do with a fetus that exists within her womb. For this reason there is a strong tendency for feminists to argue against any state-imposed restrictions.

Nevertheless, most feminists have deep feelings about the preciousness of the potential life that develops within women. They are convinced that even those who seek abortions share these feelings. They support the right to abortion because circumstances are too often such that other concerns rightfully override this one.

On the other hand, the concern for the weak and oppressed that is central to liberation theology can cut in a quite different direction. It is the fetus that is most powerless and voiceless. However powerless the woman may be in relation to other social forces in a patriarchal society, she is powerful in relation to the fetus. A liberationist may conclude that it is important to speak and act for the fetus.

Process thought deals more directly with some of the issues than do the fundamental principles of the other groups. On the question of when the fertilized egg develops into a human person, it answers unequivocally that this is a gradual process. There is no one point at which it occurs. But it does not draw the conclusion that before the fetus becomes a human person it has no intrinsic value. For process thought everything, and especially all living things, have intrinsic value. Their destruction is an evil that requires justification. On the other hand, life is not possible without the destruction of other life; so no

Among living things, those that have integrated subjective experience, or souls, have special value. If quickening corresponds to the emergence of a unified experience in the fetus, then it is an important stage in the movement toward human personhood. The abortion of a quickened fetus inflicts more pain and destroys more value than an earlier abortion. But it is not murder!

The greatest value of the fetus, however, is not its actual intrinsic value. The greatest value is its potential to become a human person. The ending of that possibility is more serious than the suffering and present loss involved in abortion. The latter is comparable to the killing of other animals or, more exactly, to their fetuses. The moral importance of abortion lies in cutting off as yet undeveloped possibilities.

No absolutist conclusions can be drawn from this. The failure to fertilize an ovum also cuts off undeveloped possibilities. But the fertilization of every ovum and bringing the resultant fetus to term would have consequences so appalling that noone could advocate an effort in this direction. We live in a world in which only a few of the potentials for life can or should be realized. We must make judgments about which ones, The greater the potential and the further its realization has been advanced, the more serious the loss. But this cannot place an absolute demand upon us.

Wesleyans must judge whether to appropriate the implications of process cosmology. They are, I believe, open to evangelicals, liberals, and liberationists. But persons from any of those camps can also reject them. They are not distinctively Christian, but they seem to me fully compatible with the faith, at least as a Wesleyan understands it.

If we recognize that in order to draw conclusions about matters of this sort, we must ask questions not answered by faith in any direct way, the tone of our debates can be improved. Christians should be able to debate philosophical questions without supposing that those who differ with them are less committed to Christ. Our unity in Christ allows for disagreement about many matters. These disagreements may be intense and prevent common action on important issues in our time. Recognition of the authenticity of one another’s faith does not mean indifference with respect to the philosophical issues on which we disagree or the diverse actions resulting from those disagreements. But the Wesleyan movement should be able to maintain its unity despite these debates. This is surely Wesley’s own view. It should be that of Wesleyans today.

In my first lecture I noted that the four categories of Wesleyans I identified are far from exhaustive. There are many other foci of attention among us. It is interesting, even remarkable, that so persons with such diverse emphases can all appeal, legitimately, to Wesley as a supporter. It is obviously not possible, in the concluding lecture, to discuss any of these other contemporary forms of Wesleyanism in any detail. But I would like to say enough to indicate that the movement from mutual conflict to complementarity and mutual appreciation is possible across a still broader spectrum than considered in the previous lectures. I will speak briefly about the seven additional emphases noted in the first lecture: orthodoxy, postliberalism, liturgical renewal, multiculturalism, institutionalism, spirituality, and healing.

Of these the first two present themselves as theological options for the church. Both are reactions against the liberalism treated in the second lecture, especially against what I recognized as its weaknesses. But both take positions that reject also much of what I believe Wesley would support in liberalism. In this way they enter into a relationship of conflict with liberalism rather than simply offering a different emphasis.

John Wesley was a great admirer of the Greek Fathers. He had much less appreciation of the Latin Fathers and very little for the medieval theology that grew out of their work. The tradition from which he developed his own thought skipped from the Greek Fathers to the tradition of the Church of England. In this evaluation of tradition, he was in agreement with many Anglicans.

One can argue that the Greek Fathers were in closer continuity with the gospel the New Testament writers. Their church was the one most directly continuous with the New Testament church. Hence, in order to understand the meaning of the gospel for a wider community than the first generation, these Fathers are our best source. Where we cannot answer our questions directly from scripture, we should have recourse to them.

Among evangelicals rather widely there has been a renewed interest in the Greek Fathers. Among some evangelicals, this has led also to an interest in the form of Christianity that is in greatest continuity with these Fathers, that is, Eastern Orthodoxy. A significant number of conservative evangelical Protestants have converted to Orthodoxy!

Obviously, a renewed interest in the Greek Fathers has Wesley’s blessing. It has also been attractive to a number of Wesleyan conservatives. It leads to the formulation of doctrine in ways that are clearly conservative but that differ from Roman Catholicism and well as Calvinism. It provides an authority over against current cultural developments, both liberal and liberationist.

The main problem from the point of view of Wesley’s heritage is the exclusivist tendency of orthodoxy. It tends to exclude all who find the history out of which they live to be one that has broken the relationship to this ancient past. A broken relationship does not exclude learning and appropriating much, and Wesleyans who retrieve the wisdom of the Greek Fathers can contribute much to this for all. But for many of us there have been developments in knowledge and understanding during the intervening centuries that make a simple retrieval of an eighteenth century figure like Wesley impossible. A repristination of second- and third-century writers poses even more severe difficulties. Their formulations of faith cannot be separated from their worldview, or from the culture of the Roman Empire of the time. That worldview and that culture are alien to us.

The post-liberal theology reacts to many of the same weakness of contemporary Wesleyan movement as does Orthodoxy. It wants to reestablish the radical difference between Christianity and the surrounding culture. It wants Christian meanings to shape the whole of life rather than compete with others arising from other sources. Many of its doctrinal and ethical conclusions would agree with those drawn from the Greek Fathers.

Nevertheless, in some respects the strategy is proposes is at an opposite pole from the orthodox one. It attacks liberalism for its commitment to universal and objective truth. It believes, no doubt with some justification, that the quest for such truth has undercut its commitment to the distinctive biblical and traditional forms of Christianity. However, in this attack it appeals to postmodern philosophy rather than to ancient wisdom. In its effort to achieve a universal vision, liberalism has continued the ancient tradition including that of the Greek Fathers, so that the attack on liberalism also condemns any return to earlier forms of theology including that of Wesley.

Post-liberalism believes that by giving up the attempt to formulate universal truths we become free to affirm our own distinctive Christian vision. This consists in an ordering of symbols and meanings that constitute the Christian faith. Our task is to immerse ourselves in this Christian way of thinking so that it shapes the whole of our vision. The community that lives in this way can be truly faithful to its heritage. If it is a Wesleyan community, then it will be faithful to this Wesleyan heritage.

There is a high price to be paid, however, for this move. Wesley’s evangelical zeal stemmed from his conviction that God is a reality for all people, that grace works in all, and that all are called to love God and neighbor and can be empowered to do so by grace. To think that this is one way of organizing thought, life, and feeling alongside other ways, that it is true for those who live by it but not for others, undercuts the zeal to explain to others the situation in which they objectively exist whether or not they have previously recognized it. The Wesleyan movement would never have come into existence if Wesley had thought in this way. It can be a form of renewal for those who half-heartedly commit themselves now to Wesleyan communities. It cannot motivate a new evangelism.

This does not mean that post-liberals have nothing to contribute to the Wesleyan movement today. There is no doubt that much of what constitutes us are particularities whose value does not depend on their universal truth or relevance. This does not reduce their usefulness as a way of forming us individually and collectively. We need to learn how to socialize our youth into our distinctive meanings and symbols to give them a special Christian identity. We cannot agree with post-liberals that all our beliefs are of this character. The God we worship is much more than a symbol. But, of course, the way we image God is an image that expresses our distinctive history and experience. Its value is for those who share that distinctive history and experience. Socialization into the community that lives from these meanings is an important contribution to the revitalization and renewal we so badly need. Post-liberals have shown us that we can emphasize our particularity without undertaking to impose it on others who have a different history and experience.

The other groups to which I have referred are more clearly matters of emphasis rather than efforts to shape the whole of the Wesleyan heritage. One such group has focused its attention on worship seeking the deepening of the church’s life through liturgical renewal. Certainly, they, too can appeal to Wesley. Usually they move in the direction of Episcopal liturgy with a strong emphasis on the Lord’s Supper. This was the form of worship in which Wesley himself participated.

The loss of this form of worship among resulted, not from a preference for something else on Wesley’s part, but from a peculiar history. He did not think of the movement he initiated as an alternate church. It was to supplement the established church and its worship. Nevertheless, when Methodists gathered they engaged in activities akin to worship. These had a highly informal and somewhat emotional character. For many Methodists they were more satisfying and meaningful than the formal services of the Church of England. When Methodism became a separate denomination, this history of evangelical worship carried over into its services. The Anglican liturgy, so precious to Wesley himself, largely disappeared.

The liturgical movement has developed across denominations. Wesleyan participation in it has been significant. There is no doubt that it has helped many Wesleyan communities to develop or recover forms of worship that mean much more to the participants.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, no one form of worship appeals to all. The tendencies in a high church direction can be felt by some as an abandonment of the deeply personal, truly heartfelt celebrations that have been so important to them. The music that appeals to more traditional worshippers may fail to touch generations of youth. To be faithful to Wesley is to be as concerned about practical consequences in these respects as about continuity with tradition. The Wesleyan revival involved radical innovations in church music in the eighteenth century. A new revival may require as much daring in our time.

For some Wesleyans today the greatest challenge confronting the church is to respond to the diversity of cultures and ethnicities that now characterize urban American society. This was not the problem Wesley faced. Looking back we can recognize that the societies he established were culturally and ethnically largely homogeneous. But to maintain an ethnically homogeneous church in a context in which there are Christians of many ethnicities impresses many as a failure to display the unity in Christ that was certainly a deep concern of Wesley.

The challenge is immense. The easiest response is to include within a denomination congregations of varying ethnic types. These can worship in their several languages and styles. They can be encouraged to have fellowship with one another and to unite at district and conference levels. This remains the majority pattern. But may find this profoundly inadequate. Cannot our unity in Christ be expressed in worshipping and working together as believers?

Of course, this is not difficult if it means only that a church made up primarily of one ethnic group, such as Euro-Americans, opens its doors to all. Most such congregations have some ethnic diversity. But this is still not real openness to the multi-cultural reality of our society. That requires that the many cultures have an equal share in shaping the shared life. Enormous efforts are expended to achieve this result. Thus far the results are modest in comparison with the extent of the work done. But for some Wesleyans attainment of a genuinely multi-cultural church is the greatest test of our seriousness in believing that Christ transcends all cultures.

I have labeled another segment of our church "institutionalist." This term is often pejorative, implying that some are devoted to institutional matters independently of any concern for the purposes of the church. But many of the people to whom I refer care deeply for the church and believe that it is very important to carrying out God’s purposes on Earth. They notice that many Wesleyans seem more intent on pushing their particular agenda and using the church to further these special ends than on enabling the church as a whole to survive and flourish. They focus their attention, therefore, on the institutional church and its health, even when this means discouraging some of the initiatives that come from one group or another within it.

They, too, can appeal to Wesley. Of course, for him, institution-building was for the sake of accomplishing the ends of the movement, and about these he was quite clear.

Some contemporary institutionalists have greater difficulty articulating more fundamental ends and purposes. But Wesley would have supported their conviction that without the institution, little happens on a long-term basis. It is because he gave so much attention to institutionalizing his movement, and did so so skillfully, that among the great revivalists only he left a lasting mark on society.

The danger among institutionalists is that they may suppose that the survival and health of the church can be assured by proper institutional arrangements. Wesley certainly knew this was not true. And, even if it were true, what would thereby survive might be of little service to God. Institutional structures must serve the church’s mission, and without renewal of commitment to that mission, no structure will do more than buy a little time.

This recognition of the emptiness of the church as institution has aroused in our culture broadly and within the Wesleyan movement a strong interest in spirituality. "Spirituality" means many things. It is sometimes contrasted with "religion," on the assumption that religion is tied to institutions and traditions whereas what people now need is free of these outer trappings and authorities. This no doubt expresses the fact that many people have not been liberated and empowered or deeply touched inwardly by their experience in churches. They are looking elsewhere for what the churches have failed to give them.

The preference for spirituality over religion can also be an expression of the consumer society and its individualism. People want recipes for inner serenity and confidence that do not involve interaction with others or taking responsibility for institutional life. The private practice of meditation can fulfill this need.

Wesley certainly understood the spiritual hunger that is so widely expressed today. He read widely in the mystics and appreciated much of what he found. But he was also critical. Mysticism as an effort at self-improvement was doomed to failure. Our growth is a matter of God’s grace working in us. Also, mysticism could be individualistic, whereas the Christian life is inherently social. The small group movement at the heart of Methodist organization expresses his own sense of how to advance the spiritual quest. It was social both in its involvement of social interaction within itself and in its concern for the relationship to others of all who are involved.

Wesleyans today who recognize the deep spiritual hunger of our time characteristically reaffirm the importance of small groups. These have never died out in our churches altogether, but they have lost much in intensity and have come to be regarded as optional rather than central to our participation in the movement. The Wesleyans who emphasize the renewal of spirituality through small groups would certainly have Wesley’s enthusiastic support.

Problems remain, however, with the term spirituality itself. Its origins in monastic devotions still tinge its current use. Our Wesleyan concern is for the deepening of love for God and neighbor, not for esoteric experiences. Love inherently expresses itself in action. We are not cultivating an inner state as an end in itself. The term "discipleship" captures more of this than does "spirituality."

Another special focus among Wesleyans is on the renewal of a healing ministry. They note that physical and psychological healing was as central to Jesus’ ministry as was the forgiving of sins. Often they went together. They note also that Wesley devoted time and attention to physical health, even if he separated this somewhat from his evangelism.

Wesley separated these in part because he was taught to do so by the science of the time. In that science, the physical world was understood to be passive matter. On matter God acted from without, since it had no within. More recent biology and physics have replaced this view with one that asserts that the physical world is composed of energy rather than passive matter. There is indication that energy events take account of one another, that they have an inside as well as an outside. If so, then Wesley could extend to bodies his understanding of how God works in the human psyche and in all living things – that is, inwardly and persuasively. One can also understand how intimately the psyche and the body are interrelated. This gives us the opportunity to see salvation also in a more holistic way.

The truth is that many people are more concerned about their physical and psychological illness than about their sin. It may be that the good news for our time needs to recover the full breadth of that proclaimed by Jesus. In response to John the Baptist’s question about his Messiahship, he replied: "the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news preached to them." In announcing his mission in Nazareth he read from Isaiah: "The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor."

Can we proclaim such a gospel today that includes physical and psychological healing? Some think so and believe that those who do so will both be more faithful to the New Testament and more effective in reaching people in this new century. They voice a very important challenge to a church that has compartmentalized body, mind, and spirit.

In my judgment Wesley would have been happy to see these dimensions of human life more fully integrated. He would warn against promising what cannot be delivered or regarding ill health as necessarily a sign of lack of faith. To add guilt to sickness is not good news. But to affirm that God works through every cell in our body to bring healing and health and that our openness to grace can further that working is not alien to Wesley’s teaching.

It is time to pull all this together in its relevance to its challenge to contemporary Wesleyans. What are the implications of what I have been saying? They are that if we are all willing to evaluate our various concerns and emphases in new dialogue with Wesley, we may be able to pull together instead of using our energies in contesting with one another. We might be able to engage in a whole new era of evangelism.

This program would give central place, rather obviously, to evangelicals as those most explicitly committed to sharing the good news. But it would require that evangelicals abandon their tendencies to moralism, conservatism, and party spirit. Their effort would be devoted to understanding what the good news is for our time and to sharing it effectively.

I have suggested that the good news would be more like that proclaimed by Jesus. The narrowing of the good news to the forgiveness of sins would be reversed. Certainly that would continue along with Wesley’s emphasis on the presence of the Holy Spirit enabling us to grow in love of God neighbor. But it would be further enriched by the theology of liberation and by those who emphasize the holistic nature of human existence. We would proclaim the good news that God has purposes for the world and for each of us within it and that through grace God makes the realization of those purposes possible.

There would be no defensiveness in this new evangelism in relation to the best thinking of the time. That does not mean that we Christians would simply accept the conclusions that come from assumptions alien to our beliefs. But we would engage the discussion in a completely open spirit with no special pleading. In inviting people to open themselves to God and join with us in a movement to realize God’s purposes, we would present our gospel as at the cutting edge of critical thought, not as an intellectual backwater. We would bring the good news to the university as well as to the poor, and we would challenge the learned as well as the ignorant.

The full formulation of what God calls us toward would be continuously reviewed and revised. This would be both in light of what we can learn from all who work with us and in light of what we observe to be the effects of our proclamation. We would be pragmatists in the way Wesley was.

Like Wesley we would organize and institutionalize our work. Here, too, we would, like Wesley, improvise and learn from failures and successes. We would also appreciatively toward others who were working toward similar ends through other means and organizations. Some of these would be other Christian groups. Some would be related to other religious communities or consider themselves entirely secular. The realization of God’s purposes in the lives of individuals and in the world at large is so vast a goal that we would know that many approaches are required. But we would aim to make as great a contribution to the salvation of the world in this new century as Wesley made in England in the eighteenth century and Methodism made in the United States in the nineteenth century as it spread scriptural holiness across the land.

I realize, of course, that what I see as possible for a re-Wesleyanized church is far removed from present reality. Whereas Wesley sized up the problems of eighteenth century England and found a way of responding, we hardly attempt to analyze the deepest problems of our own time. We exhaust ourselves in quarrels about a few ecclesiastical and moral questions. Meanwhile our youth abandon us in droves because we are irrelevant and boring.

This is not the only possibility. The needs of the world, and even of our own nation are even more acute now than they were in Wesley’s day. As individuals people suffer from meaningless and seek meaning fruitlessly in the acquisition of wealth or in irresponsible sensuality. Failing in all this they turn to alcohol or become addicted to drugs. Frustrated, people turn to violence against one another and especially against those who are different. Their need to know the love of God and experience it in their lives is palpable.

Nationally, we are concentrating wealth in fewer and fewer hands. The rich grow richer while the poor grow poorer. We have become insensitive to the suffering of the poor and ignore the existence of the underclass created by our economic policies. Our prisons house one-fourth of all the prisoners in the world! The policies that determine who is imprisoned are heavily racist. As politics is governed more and more by the wealthy, masses of people have given up hope in democratic policies and do not even vote. In these ways much of the progress we thought we had made in this country is rapidly eroding.

One effect of empowering the rich is to reorder the whole world’s economy for the benefit of corporations. These, and not national governments, now rule the world. The growing separation between rich and poor in our country is vastly magnified when viewed on a global scale.

Meanwhile the economic growth that increases the wealth of billionaires is exhausting the planets resources. We are using them at an unsustainable rate, which means that we had are on a collision course with disaster. We are giving out of fresh water, of wood, or soil, of seafood, and of oil. The promise that technology will solve all these problems is grounded in a faith that is not directed to God. Instead of adapting to the need to be cautious and move toward sustainability, we are raising the temperature of the planet in ways will disrupt climates everywhere with unpredictable but disturbing consequences. From all these crises the poor suffer first and most.

Perhaps the reason that we Wesleyans do not now proclaim the good news is that we have no confidence any exists. But if we believe in God we cannot give up our hope. Nor need we do so. Much of course is already lost, but much can still be saved. And human beings can adjust to losses in ways that lead to more humane relationships among them instead of mutual destruction. God cannot give us now what would have been possible had we repented thirty years ago, but God can still give us much. That is good news worth proclaiming.

Wesley the Liberal

My dictionary gives as its first meaning of "liberal" a political definition. To be liberal is to support "political views or policies that favor non revolutionary progress and reform." In Wesley’s day that definition fit the Whigs rather than the Tories. But Wesley was a Tory.

The progress and reform advocated by the Whigs was in the direction of the free market and capitalism. The Tories resisted many of these changes. They created greater freedom for the middle class but on the whole, at least initially, undercut the social structures that gave some security to the poor. Retrospectively we associate these changes with the extension of democracy, but it in evaluating Wesley’s politics, it is important to recognize that it was primarily a matter of giving more power to those who were gaining wealth in the process of industrialization. It was not empowering the workers or benefiting the poor.

The meaning of "liberal" in economic terms is quite similar. It supports the freedom of those who have money to use it as they will. It opposes governmental restrictions on market activity. Again, it benefits the bourgeoisie, but often at the expense of the poor as well as the landed gentry who were the mainstay of the Tories.

In politics the meaning of "liberal" gradually changed. Today we often consider those who support the freedom the market against governmental controls as the conservatives. Those who want the government to insure that workers and the poor have a fair share of the nation’s wealth are the liberals. I judge that Wesley’s support of the conservatives of his day was more like the liberalism of today than like contemporary conservatism. Hence, even in the political field, contemporary liberals can claim his support.

Of course, calling Wesley a liberal in these lectures refers primarily to theology and churchmanship rather than to politics. In this area it is just as true to say that Wesley was a liberal as that he was an evangelical. Just as being an evangelical does not make Wesley entirely supportive of all contemporary evangelicals; so being a liberal certainly does not mean that Wesley would support everything that is said and done by contemporary religious liberals. Testing today's liberalism against that of Wesley can help to refine what in that liberalism can contribute to the healthy future of Methodism and what needs to be purged.

Perhaps the most unequivocal way in which Wesley was liberal was in his insistence on human participation in the process of salvation. He associated his thought with the liberal Arminius against the dominant conservative Calvinism that insisted on the doctrine of predestination and all its consequences. He made this emphasis on human participation central to his message.

For this reason, almost all Wesleyans, even those who most emphasize their conservatism, are liberal in this sense. Almost all affirm human participation in the decisions that shape spiritual destiny while affirming also the priority and primacy of grace. Sadly, few have understood the subtlety of Wesley’s doctrine, and many, including those most active in seeking to win souls for Christ, have emphasized the capacity of the human will to respond to God’s offer. As Robert Chiles pointed out, during the nineteenth century, American Methodism as a whole shifted from Wesley’s teaching of free grace to an emphasis on the freedom of the will.

Once this move was made, there were two directions to go, neither of them faithful to Wesley. The more conservative direction was to emphasize that one can choose to believe and live as one is required by God to do. To fail to make this choice can then be depicted in frightening terms, whereas great rewards can be promised for a righteous choice. This move leads to legalism.

The other, "liberal," possibility is to celebrate the human freedom and dignity bestowed by God upon us. Human personality is sacred. We are encouraged to take responsibility for our own lives, to follow our convictions, to realize our full human potential. Of course, we are to respect the sacred worth of all other persons as well, and in all of this we are to be grateful to our Maker and express this gratitude in worship and life. This way lies a Christian humanism that is semi-deistic.

Those who follow the two directions noted are often suspicious of one another. The conservatives rightly see that Wesley’s passionate quest for true righteousness is muted among liberals. The liberals rightly see that Wesley’s deeply spiritual account of the Christian life in terms of love of God and neighbor and all that means is turned into a set of do’s and don’ts by many conservatives. But neither really appreciated Wesley’s vision of God’s grace bearing us forward in the Christian life.

Actually, aspects of both distortions are often found in the same people. Moralistic tendencies were present among liberals as among conservatives, although the list of do’s and don’ts was likely to be different. And too many conservatives lost the passion for true righteousness while priding themselves on holding on to traditional beliefs. An authentically Wesleyan emphasis on God’s empowering and liberating grace is still rarely heard in Methodist preaching.

I am saying, therefore, that on a very central point, Methodist liberalism departed from Wesley’s liberalism. I affirm Wesley’s liberalism and deplore what replaced it. Nothing is more important for the future of Methodism than a recovery of Wesley’s doctrine of grace and responsibility. I will return to this in the lecture on Wesley and process theology, since it is my claim that process theology can help to clarify and support

A second respect in which Wesley was clearly liberal in his own time was his attitude toward those with views differing from his own. The liberal position in the Church of England was Latitudinarianism. The idea was to enable Anglo-Catholics and evangelicals to accept one another as fellow members of one English church. Wesley was certainly Latitudinarian in his view of the Anglican church.

More surprisingly, Wesley carried the same attitude into his own movement. He welcomed people of diverse theological orientations and convictions into the Methodist organization. He did not impose his personal views upon them.

Still more surprising was his attitude toward those outside the Protestant fold. He took considerable risks in his appreciative approach to Roman Catholics. On the other side, he acknowledged the genuine piety of Unitarians. It was more important to relate to such people in love than to attempt to convert them.

Such views were liberal in Wesley’s day. This charitable attitude toward those with different views within one’s denomination is all too rare in our own day. Extending an appreciative and cooperative spirit toward those who are usually excluded from the fold is a challenge to Wesley’s followers today as it was then.

Today the acute issue confronting Christians is whether they can or should extend to those outside the Christian family a similar appreciative and cooperative spirit. Newly confronted with this issue in the second half of the twentieth century liberals have responded affirmatively. This shift has deepened the rift between them and conservatives. Our question is how the legacy of Wesley cuts on this matter.

In the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, Wesleyan liberals shared with evangelicals enthusiasm for the conversion of the heathen. But as liberals learned more about those whom they were seeking to convert to Christianity from other religious traditions, they became less sure. The Parliament of World Religions in Chicago in 1896 was a turning point in liberal thought. The Layman’s Commission headed by William Ernest Hocking was another step.

In general, liberals did not withdraw support from missions. The Report of the Laymen’s Commission did not call for that. But liberals wanted to emphasize meeting the recognized needs of other people rather than converting them to Christianity. They favored a more dialogical approach in which Christians could learn from others as well as teach them. Liberals continued to believe that Christianity had certain advantages or superiority over other religious traditions, and these they wanted to share. But the more conservative view that all who belonged to other communities were damned or depraved was no longer convincing to them.

Can liberals appeal to Wesley for support in this more positive appraisal of other religious traditions? Surprisingly, they can. Of course, Wesley was preoccupied with bringing the gospel to those within Christendom who had not appropriated it. With the exception of Native Americans, he was not engaged in missions to those outside of Christendom. I am not aware of any efforts on his part to convert Jews. He developed no systematic position on the question of the rightness of converting sincere members of other religious communities to Christianity. I am sure he would not have turned anyone away, but he did not organize missions for this purpose.

Such comments as Wesley made about persons of other faiths were surprisingly positive. He found the behavior of supposedly Christian people at least as barbaric as that of any "heathen." His openness to the actual situation would have led him, almost certainly, to admiration for Buddhist and Hindu saints, had he known them. It would be idle to speculate what theory he would have developed about the sources of their virtues and how these are related to Christ. But it would not have been true to his character to deny the wisdom and virtue he encountered because it was not associated with beliefs similar to his own.

Unfortunately, too many liberals have taken another step, one that carries them far away from Wesley. Having recognized the values of other traditions, they regard the position to which they are drawn as outside of faith. They associate Christian faith with the Christian exclusivism that they now reject. Their liberalism leads them to the edge of the believing community, even to viewing it with some detachment. One of the factors eroding the spirit and commitment in the United Methodist Church is the relativistic tendencies that are so widespread among liberal members.

There is no support in Wesley for this weakening of conviction. For Wesley it is Christian love that leads us to be open to what is positive in others. If the evidence led Wesley to recognize wisdom and virtue in members of other communities, it would be as a Christian believer that he would affirm this. Some Christian doctrines might require modification, but his convictions about the supreme importance of loving God and neighbor would in no way be weakened.

This openness to persons of other faiths is closely related to another central tenet of liberalism. Christians should be open to truth and wisdom from whatever source they come. The distinction here between liberals and conservatives is usually a matter of degree, but the degree is important. Conservatives cannot reasonably claim to be uninfluenced by scientific and historical knowledge in their understanding of their faith. Liberal Christians continue to give the central place in the formation of their thinking to the Bible and the Christian tradition.

Nevertheless, conservatives fear that liberals allow changing cultural attitudes to shape their commitments, and liberals see conservatives as defensive in relation to new knowledge. There is justification for the criticisms each levels at the other. Nevertheless, I believe that a nondefensive openness to psychological and sociological knowledge, as well as to the natural sciences is more faithful to Wesley, despite the fact that the consequences of such openness may lead to ideas that were foreign to him. In short, I am stating my conviction that on this very important point, Wesley would support contemporary liberals.

Thus far we have considered topics on which there is considerable continuity from Wesley’s time to ours. Here we will turn to one that took one dramatically new form for Christians in the nineteenth century. The question of how to judge what is our authentic heritage from Wesley on this matter is more speculative.

A remarkable development in the nineteenth century was in the field of historical scholarship. Much of this development was closely related to efforts to understand Christian origins. A central question for many was how to understand Jesus as a real historical figure.

The formulation of the question already had theological assumptions built into it. If Jesus was God-incarnate, then the effort to understand him as a historical figure – that is, in terms of standard historical scholarship – was misplaced. Nevertheless, the quest for the historical Jesus took place and involved a quite new approach to scripture in general.

One defining element of liberalism has been its openness to the findings of this scholarship and to rethinking doctrine in light of it. Conservatives are more cautious about doing so, determined to preserve especially beloved ideas and teachings against the acids of modernity. Fundamentalists, of course, reject the critical historical approach to the Bible altogether, pointing out that it is based on the assumption that the Bible is a human document like others to which the same methods of scholarship can be applied.

One cannot reasonably declare of an eighteenth-century thinker what position he would have taken on a nineteenth-century issue. But if the eighteenth-century thinker is somehow authoritative for us today, it is difficult to avoid this kind of speculation altogether. One could make a case for all three answers.

One can find statements by Wesley that could support Fundamentalism. Certainly he shared with most Christians of his day a strong sense of the inspiration of scripture. His argument that because there are claims to inspiration within the Bible, the authors must either be inspired or liars has a Fundamentalist ring.

On the other hand, the rigid literalism we associate with Fundamentalism was not characteristic of Wesley. Think of his skillful handling of Romans 8:28-30 in his Notes on the New Testament. He was open to the relevance of historical knowledge to the interpretation of texts. Since his own approach to all reality was from a perspective soaked in the Bible, however, he would certainly not have abandoned this point of view readily! He might have taken a non-Fundamentalist conservative position.

One can also make the case that those Wesleyans who refused to be defensive in relation to the new scholarship were faithful heirs of Wesley. Wesley was an enthusiastic proponent of scientific knowledge, believing that it contributed to our understanding of God. As the same kind of scholarly, critical inquiry was turned on human history, it is hard to think of Wesley drawing limits. I doubt that he would have refused to apply these critical methods to the study of Israel as well. Liberals can claim to be his true heirs.

I personally want to claim him for a fourth position, one that supports critical scholarship but engages it critically in terms of its assumptions. I’ll return to this in the lecture on process theology. This can be regarded as a form of liberal theology; so at this point I will simply argue that Wesley would support no holds barred biblical scholarship and rethink his teaching in its light.

Within the Wesleyan family, the institutional split between liberals and conservatives was chiefly over the desirability of maintaining Wesley’s teachings on the Second Blessing and perfection in love. As this point it is apparent that the conservatives had Wesley’s explicit teaching on their side. Wesley taught that God could give us a purity of heart that was free from all motives other than love of God and neighbor. He taught that this gift could come suddenly to those who truly desired it and believed. Some segments of the Wesleyan movement placed on this a great deal of emphasis. One could also argue that they distorted Wesley’s teachings in some respects, but that is not my point here. The liberals who abandoned this teaching clearly broke with explicit doctrines of Wesley. Can they in any way claim to be faithful to Wesley in this break?

I think the answer is Yes. The appeal must be away from Wesley’s explicit teaching and to his reasons for those teachings. If similar reasons could lead his followers to change the teachings, they can still appeal to Wesley’s authority. Why, then, did Wesley teach the possibility of entire sanctification in this life?

Of course, he justified his teaching from the Bible. But the biblical support for entire sanctification is less than that for predestination. Most biblicists do not teach it. The presence of biblical support was not the reason for the teaching.

I believe that he taught this doctrine for two main reasons. First, he found convincing the testimony of some that they had arrived at this state of perfect love. He was disappointed that some of them subsequently fell from this condition, but this did not lead him to deny that they had held it, and that others continued to do so. Of course, he knew that many who sought this condition failed to attain it, including himself. He also knew that not all claims were valid. In short Wesley tried to formulate his teaching to conform to the evidence.

Second, Wesley was deeply concerned that believers never grow complacent. The idea that the Christian life always includes sin allowed for such complacency. Wesley wanted his followers to open themselves constantly to the working of grace within them to overcome the remaining sinful motives. He was not willing to set any limit to what God can do with a human life. That implied that perfect love is a possible gift of God. The force of this concern that people not become complacent about their present condition is strikingly, if puzzlingly, expressed in his idea that even those who have attained entire sanctification should keep growing.

In the nineteenth century, many Wesleyans became troubled about the outworking of this teaching. Their reasons for rejecting it were largely shaped by the evidence. They saw the preaching of entire sanctification as leading to self-deception on the part of many. This self-deception was too often accompanied by a kind of self-righteousness that Wesley would have abhorred. Liberal Wesleyans decided that an emphasis on the Second Blessing as an immediate possibility for all believers did more harm than good.

To oppose emphasis on a teaching on practical grounds does not necessarily mean that one denies the truth of the teaching. Some liberals thought that perfection in love is possible. But they thought that its occurrence would rarely be connected with dramatic experiences. They thought also that any who attained to this state would be unlikely to advertise the fact. And finally they thought that none of us are really in position to judge such matters about others or even with regard to ourselves. These reasons for de-emphasizing the doctrine can claim to be faithful to Wesley.

In the late nineteenth century another reason for turning from this doctrine of Wesley emerged in the form of depth psychology. Eighteenth-century writers were less aware of the unconscious depths of the psyche than either earlier or later thinkers. With a fuller awareness of these depths, the possibility of determining the purity of motive must be more radically acknowledged. The fact that those who honestly felt that they had attained perfection in love found later that they were not in this condition adds weight to the assumption that there is more to human experience than what can be discerned by honest introspection. I believe Wesley would have been open to being informed by this kind of psychology.

But liberals cannot claim Wesley’s support if their account fails to urge believers on towards greater holiness of life. Here liberals have been mixed. On the one hand, there is a strong liberal emphasis on righteousness or virtue. Many liberals continue the Wesleyan emphasis on love as the one truly Christian motivation. Neo-Orthodox theologians pointed out that liberals were naively optimistic about the possibility of living a life of love and even of solving social problems by loving actions. Liberals can, thus, urge people to become more loving, never resting in the extent to which they fulfill this ideal.

Nevertheless, the absence of the emphasis on grace creates a rift between the typical liberal call for love and that of Wesley. Liberals too often make it seem that the achievement of love is within our power, that we can choose to be more loving. For Wesley, every advance in love is the work of grace, even though that grace will not effect love apart from our openness to it. Still, liberals may be closer to Wesley on this point than their Neo-Orthodox critics. In any case the liberal de-emphasis on the Second Blessing does not in itself entail the liberal tendency to emphasize free will instead of free grace.

I have been speaking of Methodist liberalism within the context of the ongoing Wesleyan movement. I have argued that liberals, like evangelicals, can claim considerable support from Wesley, but that both groups in their present form have departed from valuable parts of Wesley’s thought and spirit. I want to conclude this lecture by discussing Wesley’s likely response to what presents itself as mainstream evangelical thought today. I believe that such a comparison will show that Wesleyan evangelicals today are themselves liberal.

On June 14, 1999, Christianity Today published a manifesto entitled "Evangelical Essentials." How would Wesley view this understanding of evangelical Christianity?

The first striking comparison is the content of what is essential. Wesley did affirm some teachings as essential. To the best of my knowledge he never undertook a systematic account of what these are. But his references to them suggest that they are quite few and are quite directly related to the heart of Christian experience. If disagreements about doctrine do not strike at the heart of Christianity, then mutual tolerance is called for.

Robert Chiles has found three key places where Wesley tells us what the essential doctrines are. At one place, he lists original sin, justification by faith, and holiness; at another, repentance, faith, and holiness; and at a third, the new birth and justification by faith. It is true that on various occasions he mentions other doctrines as essential, including more objective ones such as the deity of Christ and the Trinity. But on these matters he still allows considerable leeway as long as the teaching continues to support the understanding of Christian life as the movement from sin to holiness on the basis of God’s free grace.

The recent statement of evangelical essentials also calls for "unity in primary things, with liberty in secondary things, and charity in all things." But its tone is very different. Here there seems to be a careful effort to draw boundaries and to exclude liberals. The intention is to formulate the one correct definition of many doctrines even where it is not clear that different formulations would have any deleterious effect on Christian experience or on how the believer lives. In short, while Wesley’s approach is irenic, the contemporary evangelical approach is polemical.

One issue on which the manifesto is emphatic and clear is Christian exclusivism. Those who do not receive Christ "will face eternal retributive punishment," regardless, apparently, of the quality of their lives. Indeed, the boundaries of salvation are drawn even more narrowly. One must not only personally affirm the humanity of Christ, his incarnation, and his sinlessness, but one must also maintain that all of this is essential to the gospel. I find it doubtful that Wesley personally thought in this way. I am confident that he would not have asserted that those theologians who affirm that the humanity of Jesus was a sinful humanity would be damned for such a belief. And I am certain he would not have required that all who wanted to join his movement think in exactly this way.

Perhaps the greatest difference in this form of evangelical theology and that of Wesley is a matter of emphasis. To a Wesleyan’s eyes, a word striking by its rarity in the document is "love." To be fair it is not absent. At one point God is called "loving." We are called to love God’s truth. And it is emphasized that Christian love for other Christians should not be restricted by differences of race or gender.

But this is a far cry from Wesley. One can read the whole movement of grace as increasing love for God and neighbor in the believer’s heart. Sanctification is the process of love more and more fully dominating the motives of the Christian. And the grace by which we live manifests God’s love for us. Love of neighbor may sometimes focus on fellow Christians but it certainly is not limited to them.

One place where there may be some Wesleyan influence in the manifesto is in the strong statements made about sanctification. There is unabashed affirmation that there is growth in the Christian life. Sanctification is "the transformation of life in growing conformity to Christ through the power of the Holy Spirit." There are statements of this sort that Wesley would endorse enthusiastically.

On the other hand, he would be less comfortable with the insistence that righteousness is imputed. According to the manifesto, it is essential be believe that the actual transformation effected by the Holy Spirit is the outworking of imputation. For Wesley an emphasis on imputation is uncongenial.

Wesley would have been likely to respond to much of this document that he could assent to its content. I doubt that he would personally object to bodily resurrection, ascension, and enthronement, although these are not the themes of his teaching. Nevertheless, he would have been uncomfortable. Although the document does not explicitly affirm predestination, its picture of God and God’s role in the world leads in that direction. And he would certainly have opposed including all of this in essential doctrine.

Furthermore, I have argued that on some of these points the changing situation and growing knowledge of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries would have led Wesley to come down at a different place. I suspect that he might affirm that what is resurrected is the spiritual body of which Paul spoke rather than the fleshly one. I suspect that he would avoid language about ascension and enthronement that have spatial and local implications. In general, I believe he would minimize the importance of the more mythological-sounding doctrines of traditional Christianity in favor of those most closely related to the Christian life.

In conclusion, I emphasize that the differences between Wesley and this affirmation of evangelical essentials differentiates him from the mainstream of current evangelical teaching far more than from today’s Wesleyan evangelicals. The problem for them is that those who now most frequently define evangelicalism are more Calvinistic than Wesleyan. When Wesleyans emphasize that they also are evangelical, they are drawn toward this Calvinist form. The danger is that they become more insistent on particular doctrinal formulations, including some that are not closely related to Christian experience and life. In their reaction against liberalism, they may move from Wesley’s irenic approach to difference to a more polemical one. When this happens, to other Wesleyan ears, their message does not sound like good news.

But it is clear that much of contemporary liberalism has moved even further from Wesley. Too often, Wesley’s openness to differences becomes indifference to doctrine. His respect for people of other faiths becomes relativism. The agreement that we are not Fundamentalists or evangelicals as defined by this manifesto is clearer than the positive affirmation of the Gospel.

Wesley was a liberal, but for today’s Methodist liberals to become true Wesleyan liberals will require a commitment and dedication that are too often lacking. The false identification of liberalism with the absence of conviction and disciplined living receives far too much support from the practice of many who think of themselves as liberals.

Wesley the Process Theologian

You may understandably think that this title is the most anachronistic of all. If a process theologian is one who has been influenced by philosophers such as Alfred North Whitehead and Charles Hartshorne, then obviously you are right. Historical influence does not work backwards in time.

But my argument is that in a general sense process thought has been around for a long time. In philosophy in the West, we trace it back to Heraclitus. In India it was richly developed by Gautama Buddha. In general, if we consider the two main sources of Christian theology as the Bible and Greek philosophy, we can say that process thought is more characteristic of the Bible than substance thought of the Greeks. Given this broad use of the term, it is not anachronistic to claim that Wesley came down much more on the side of process.

Let me explain my use of the terms "substance" and "process." If I ask you give me examples of substantial things, I suspect you will point to rocks and sticks, plants and animal bodies, perhaps also atoms and heavenly bodies. Most Greek philosophy, except for Heraclitus, took its cue from reflection about things like this. Most modern science did so as well.

Now if I ask you to identify some processes, you might find that a bit less clear. It might be better for me to ask you to identify some events. That you can do easily. A lecture is an event, and so is an election. A wedding is an event, and so is a war. Birth and death are events. I could then explain that by a process I refer to a sequence of events. A person’s life from birth to death is a process. So is the history of Israel.

It should now be easy to understand the sense in which I claim that the Bible is more about processes than substances. There is very little reflection about objects and their attributes. There is a great deal of story telling and history.

In the formation of Christian theology, the Greek influence was very great. Whereas most Biblical talk of God locates God as an actor in a story, the theology forged in the early centuries is deeply influenced by Greek reflection about substances. The resulting picture of God is in severe tension with the actor in the story. We are told that God cannot be affected by anything that happens. God cannot act differently at different times.

The understanding of Jesus is also affected. Instead of thinking primarily about the story of Jesus in the gospels and how God is involved in that story, we are offered reflections about how the divine substance and the human substance can be united in one person. The resultant doctrine led many to suppose that Jesus was not really affected by interactions with others. He was so far removed from ordinary human experience that Christians needed an intermediary in order to relate to him. Mary served that purpose for many.

The Reformation was in part a protest against the dominance of Greek substance categories over biblical historical and personal ones. But the former were never systematically excised from official doctrine, and Aristotle quickly recaptured a leading place in Lutheran theological education. To a surprising extent, conservative Protestant philosophers of religion continue to follow the guidance of Thomas Aquinas, the great Aristotelian theologian.

Calvin belonged to the nominalist or voluntarist theological tradition. Instead of focusing with Thomas on the being of God, he focused on God’s will. This could be a more biblical, event-oriented, approach. But Calvin emphasized the immutability of God as much as the earlier substance-oriented theologians had done. The logical implication is that everything is determined from the outset by God’s one, unchanging act of will. The narrative history told in the Bible is, then, simply the outworking in time of that eternal act.

Now there is much in Calvin and in subsequent Calvinists that is far more fully influenced by the biblical account. There is much process in Calvin. Nevertheless, his most fundamental pronouncements work against this, and to a considerable extent he was willing to draw the logical conclusions. Some of his followers went even farther in doing so.

At this point you will understand why I claim Wesley for the process side of this long debate. Wesley sees God as working with each human being through the course of our lives. He pays close attention to the actual changes that occur: the emergence of faith, growth in love, falling back into sin. A large part of his preaching and theology deal with the stages of this process and how God works in them. None of this is decided from all eternity. It is worked out in a real process of interaction between the individual and God.

Of course, Wesley did not think of this in terms of the distinction between substance and process. Hence he did not thematically work out the implications of choosing for process. He is not a process theologian in the sense of having chosen to build his theology in relation to a process philosophy instead of a substance one. He was far from ignorant of philosophy and he engaged philosophers in significant ways, but these philosophers did not themselves develop their thought in terms of this alternative. They were all substance philosophers, even though their work began the process of undercutting the concept of substance. Wesley was a process thinker, I believe, because he was immersed in the Bible and because he was radically open to what he actually experienced.

This far you may be able to accompany me even if you are not sympathetic with any of the forms of contemporary process theology. But I would like to persuade you that there are important features of Wesley’s thought that parallel closely with more technical doctrines arising out of recent process philosophy. In short, I believe that Wesley’s theology as some forms of contemporary process theology are more closely related than one would expect from their quite different social locations and histories.

The contemporary form of process thought to which I will limit my remarks is that of Alfred North Whitehead and his followers, among whom I count myself. Whereas Wesley came to his theology chiefly out of his study of the Bible and his personal experience, Whitehead was a mathematical physicist trying to make coherent sense of deep perplexities created by new discoveries in the early part of this century. On the other hand, this exaggerates their differences. Wesley was keenly interested in science and saw it as another basis for understanding God and the world. Whitehead was keenly interested in religious experience and believed that any adequate cosmology must learn from it and make sense of it. Incidentally both were products of vicarages of the Church of England.

In my opinion, the greatest theological contribution of Wesley was his way of affirming human responsibility for our ultimate destiny and daily life while strongly maintaining the primacy of faith. This provided a third way between Calvinism and deism. Calvinists thought that they must exclude any human contribution to salvation to avoid allowing Christians to believe that they were saved by their virtue. Deists thought that God gave us free will and that everything else is up to us. Wesley found both views deeply alien to the Bible. The problem was formulating a coherent alternative.

One possibility is to say that God urges all of us to accept the gift of salvation, and that some do and some don’t. This is a sense acknowledges the primacy of grace, but since the result depends on a human decision, the Calvinist fear is realized. Finally, believers can claim that they deserve salvation because they chose rightly. Wesley agreed that this possibility of boasting must be excluded.

To exclude boasting, one may say that God works faith in our hearts, but that this grace is not irresistible. We contribute nothing to the positive outcome, but by our resistance we may prevent it from happening. In this case, while we are rightly blamed for failing to be saved, we can take no credit for our salvation.

Wesley comes close to this view, but it does not quite express his understanding. This view is normally associated with a somewhat external view of God’s working and the notion that human nature is completely sinful. In this case there is a competition between the gracious work of God and the sinful resistance of human nature. But one wonders how there can be degrees of resistance on the part of a completely sinful nature. One wonders also whether it must not be God’s decision to overcome or not to overcome the resistance.

Wesley changed this picture by locating the working of God within the human being. He kept the view that human nature is entirely sinful, but he regarded human nature in this sense as an abstraction from real human beings. An actual human being, even a baby is already the union of God’s grace and human nature. Thus an actual human being makes choices that result from the particular way in which grace and nature are united in that person. This choice is constantly affecting the way in which grace can function in the next moment. It clearly affects the question of whether justification will occur and how far one will go on to perfection in love.

In this way Wesley gives a large role to actual human decisions. But these decisions are never made independently of grace. To the extent that they are oriented to the reception of more grace, they are already informed by the grace that has worked there before. Noone can boast of any achievement as if that were not dependent on the working of grace. One can only thank God for the great gifts bestowed on one and pray for continued strength to make the decisions for which one is responsible.

Theoretically, one can still press for more clarity about the respective contributions of human nature and grace. I am not sure that Wesley had the tools for a wholly satisfactory answer. But for the practical purposes of preaching and teaching, Wesley’s formulations offered a third way that won the hearts and minds of many. In earlier lectures I have bemoaned its loss in Methodism if not in the Wesleyan movement as a whole.

Now let us turn to Whitehead. He formulated his model of human experience for quite different purposes. But in surprising ways he supports and clarifies Wesley’s vision.

Whitehead saw every occasion of experience as a coming together of the whole world in that locus. Our personal past informs the present. Recent bodily events. including sensory awareness of the external world, also enter into that experience. Through these, the whole human past and even the whole cosmic past play some role. All of this is heavily laden with emotion.

If we suppose that this is an exhaustive account, however, we cannot understand either novelty or human freedom. The present would be simply the outcome of the past. In William James’ words, we would be living in a block universe. The all-determination of God’s will in Calvin would be replaced by an all-determination by nature.

Much scientific work is carried on as if this were an exhaustive picture. But Whitehead points out that the scientist who engages in this work acts as though he were a responsible person who chose to do this work. Whitehead insists that this practical assumption of all action, deepened in religious experience, must be accounted for in an adequate cosmology. This requires that there is something present in each occasion of experience that is not derived from the past.

This factor must introduce into the occasion of experience the possibility of responding to the inflowing world in more that one way. These ways include the appropriation of novelty. Of course, the possibilities are closely related to what has happened thus far, and in the great majority of cases, the range of possibilities in a single moment is quite limited. But cumulative decisions can still make a great deal of difference.

God calls this factor entering into every occasion of experience God. God is thus the source of freedom and responsibility. God is also the call to make the best choice among the possibilities. In this way God is the giver of life, the explanation of conscience, and the ground of hope.

Let us look at Wesley’s problem from this perspective. Apart from God’s presence in an occasion of experience, there is the total impact of the past world on the present moment. This has elements in it that are both good and bad. If we trace back the good elements, we will find that their goodness derives from God’s contribution to them. That contribution is so thoroughly intermixed in the whole that one cannot sort it out.

But without God’s fresh incursion, the present will simply reenact that past in some changed pattern generated by the respective strength of the many forces that impinge on it.

The fresh coming and calling of God in this moment changes that. Because of it, the present moment can and must make a decision. It can decide largely to ignore the new possibilities God offers and fall back into habit. It can decide to adopt the finest possibility, the one to which God calls in that moment. Or it can make an intermediate decision. That decision will influence the kinds of possibilities God can give in the next moment and how open the person will be to God in the next moment.

What determines the person’s choice? Here the answer is: Nothing determines it. The choice emerges out of the interaction of the whole past with the call of God in the present. It is, in a sense, causa sui. But whereas it is caused by nothing other than itself, it is influenced by everything, and especially by the decisions made in the past and by God’s persuasiveness. Those earlier decisions were also the self-determined outcome of the interaction of the pressures coming from the past and the fresh calling of God.

For my own part, I find this eminently congenial to Wesley’s thought, illuminating of my own experience, and conceptually satisfying. No doubt my own reading of Wesley has been influenced by what I have learned from Whitehead. I am sure also that the existential meanings I draw from Whitehead’s cosmology are deeply affected by the influence of Wesley on my life. All this, I think, is as it should be.

There is a second contribution that process thought can make to Wesleyan theology today. This is a critique of the dominant worldview. I will pick up from my discussion of how liberalism has been radically open to the sciences and to historical scholarship. I said that I thought Wesley would approve that. But I do not believe that Wesley would be happy with all the consequences of this openness. I believe that Wesley would have approved a counteroffensive against a good deal that we are asked to think and believe as people open to contemporary scholarship and science.

To take a rather obvious example, God has been excluded from the university. To affirm that God acts in the world is to violate the canons of science and scholarship as they operate in our world. When we bring standard historical scholarship to bear in the interpretation of the Bible, this means that a priori we exclude the activity of God as an explanation of any historical occurrence reported there.

The weight of the modern worldview goes further still. There are many extraordinary events recorded in the Bible. We call them miracles. In the eighteenth century believers in God divided between those who thought that God set up a law-abiding world and left matters to these laws and those who believed that God also intervened supernaturally from time to time. The latter lost out so far as the course of scholarship is concerned. That is probably inevitable, and even desirable, if these are our only choices. The result has been that scholars simply deny that any of these events actually occurred.

Process theology advocates another possibility. Since God is present and active in every event, the notion of supernatural intervention should be rejected in favor of a theistic naturalism. But in such a naturalism the activity of God is an explanatory factor to be reckoned with. Furthermore, the range of possible events is far wider in a process world than in a substance world. The evidence for parapsychology, so commonly excluded because it violates the dominant worldview can be sifted, and in large part appropriated. In this view, many strange and wonderful things have happened. We should not be simply credulous, since we know that imagination and literary license play a large role in reporting what has happened. But we should also not be dogmatically incredulous.

Process thought also provides a way that overcomes the tendency toward relativism resulting from openness to the wisdom of other religious traditions. Let us consider why that tendency is so widespread. It is typically thought that if two traditions hold different views of ultimate reality, they cannot both be correct. One may defend one against the other, or one may become skeptical of both. One may take the linguistic turn and deny that religious statements are about reality, interpreting them as expressions of value and ways of ordering life meaningfully. It seems that only those who defend the truth of one traditional affirmation against all the others are likely to maintain evangelical zeal! And to many, this seems narrow, rigid, and bigoted. Liberals often decide that there are many paths up the mountain of truth or salvation, and that one should not judge the beliefs accompanying one path better than those accompanying other paths.

There is another way of looking at matters. Process thought understands the totality of reality as being far richer and more complex than any individual or culture can ever appreciate or realize. Each culture highlights certain features of the whole and learns much about that. The features highlighted in cultures differ. What they come to know in their attention to these different features of the totality is, or can be, mutually complementary. To learn what another culture has discovered does not necessarily conflict with affirming the full truth of what one’s own culture has learned.

To make this a bit more concrete, consider the difference between the cultures from which Christianity comes and those of the East. In both a great deal is said about form, but what is said is quite different. Aristotle distinguished between form and matter and saw the imposition of form on matter as of primary importance. Mathematics and science developed through the study of form abstracted from matter. There is little attention to matter as such.

In the opening verses of Genesis we are told that when God began creating the Earth was a formless void. Thus the reality of the formless is acknowledged. But attention is directed entirely to God’s creation, which entailed the imposition of form on this void. There is little reflection about the void and formlessness. All value is associated with what is formed.

In contrast, any Westerner who studies Hindu, Buddhist, or Taoists texts is startled to find the fascination with the formless. Somehow the formless seems more real, more ultimate, than what has formed. To reach it one goes behind the forms. One comes to realize that at the deepest level one participates in this formlessness. The quest for release from the world of appearance is pursued through meditational practices that move beyond form.

Of course, this is a vast oversimplification. In the West we find mystics who seek the Formless. There are great differences among Hindus, Buddhists, and Taoists with respect to their valuation of form and formlessness. Nevertheless, it is not an exaggeration to say that the East has been learning a great deal from the West about form, especially as that has been studied in mathematics and science. And a considerable number of Westerners have been seeking to learn about the Formless from Eastern teachers.

There are great differences between the ways of thinking, the valuations, and the orientations that arise out of these two foci of attention and concern. Many of the formulations developed by their practitioners are in conflict. But in principle and in general, it is possible for knowledge of form and of the formless to be complementary and to be unified into a larger whole. In that context it is possible to affirm both the Christian God and the Buddhist Nirvana. Learning about Nirvana and accepting the wisdom associated with it need not in any way weaken our convictions about God.

I will illustrate also in a more familiar example. Western medicine has been based on a well-established understanding of the human body. Eastern medicine, I will take the Chinese version as my example, has been based on a different understanding. The tendency of Western doctors has been to assume that their picture of the body is virtually exhaustive. It has no place for the kind of energy flows on which traditional Chinese medicine is based. On this basis, one may simply reject Chinese medicine a priori as superstition.

Fortunately, this has not happened. Enough Western doctors have observed the efficacy of acupuncture that they have recognized it as a valid approach to healing. Meanwhile the Chinese have recognized the great achievements of Western medicine. The two are complementary. There is still no fully articulated account of the human body that shows how the Western and Chinese maps are complementary, but that is implied by the fact that both systems work. To accept Chinese medicine in no way denies the efficacy of Western medicine.

To point out that a process worldview critiques assumptions that are almost universal in scholarly research and opens is significant only if people are open to issues of worldview. Many of our contemporaries have concluded that interest in such questions reflects a now outdated mindset. Since Kant, it is widely thought, the effort to hold scientific and moral questions together in a unified context has been shown to be misguided. As the sciences have developed, any effort to derive a unified coherent picture from them has also been abandoned. Even within physics there is not much interest in developing a coherent quantum theory or integrating relativity theory with it. Certainly the social sciences have quite separate assumptions and implications. Deconstructionists tell us that any effort to achieve a unified worldview aims at hegemony and is thus oppressive.

Many theologians rejoice in this abandonment of worldview interest. It means that they need not concern themselves to relate the articulation of faith to other arenas of thought. On the left, this often means that theology is a system of symbols that does not claim to describe any independent reality. On the right, it often means that one can describe reality as revealed without concern about other approaches to reality,.

Both find an advantage in the new autonomy of theology. If theology must adapt to new scholarly findings, it can never be settled or complete. It is always vulnerable to new discoveries by historians and scientists. To relate theology to a cosmological scheme such as Whitehead’s either leads to failure to recognize its provisionality or to an endless modification both of the cosmology and of theology as scholarship advances.

Process thinkers accept this condition. Whitehead’s cosmology seems to us the best we have. He himself certainly recognized that it is incomplete and provisional. He did not think that meant that it was likely to be totally overthrown by new developments, but it certainly means that it is endlessly subject to revision. Process theologians believe that the same is true of the affirmations of Christian faith. It is the human condition that we must live and think without finality or certainty. That does not mean that we cannot have considerable confidence in some of our assertions! It does not mean that we are unable to act decisively in terms of the best that we know.

Few would claim that Wesley thought in these post-Kantian ways. But I have argued on other matters that Wesley would have been open to new forms of scholarship and would have adapted his teaching to their implications. Hence both liberals and conservatives who reject the quest for a comprehensive overview could claim that given the course of intellectual life, Wesley would have followed the direction they have taken. In their view, his confidence in reason would have been replaced by a formulation of beliefs that was fully autonomous from other lines of inquiry.

I recognize that Wesley might have responded that way over time. I affirm, however, that this would have been a profound change that he would not have relished. The union of faith and reason in his theology was important to him. That he could appeal to scientists in support of his teaching gave him great satisfaction. The liberal replacement of statements about objective reality with the ordering of images and symbols appropriate to a community is quite foreign to his vision. It tends strongly to undercut the passion for evangelism, working much better in established communities of believers. The claim that revelation provides us with knowledge of objective reality would have been much more readily acceptable, but that this knowledge is disconnected from that gained from other sources would have been disturbing to Wesley.

My claim, then, is that Wesley would be sympathetic toward fresh efforts to develop an overview inclusive of both science and faith. That this overview supports some of his central beliefs would have added to his interest. That it also provides a basis for criticizing scholarly assumptions that undercut acceptance of much in the biblical stories would also register positively with him.

At the same time, I acknowledge that we cannot tell whether he would have been willing to side with a small intellectual minority against the dominant thinking of the time. Perhaps he would, after all, have felt that Christians must accept the predominant intellectual consensus and find some way to articulate their beliefs within it. In that case, the efforts of Wesleyan process theologians turns out not to be faithful to his spirit. Although I prefer to think that for the sake of affirming the unity of all God’s work, Wesley would have been willing to counter the dominant intellectual currents of our time, I know that I do not know.

Thus far I have been primarily making the case that process thought can be helpful to those who want to be faithful to Wesley. It is not parallel to evangelical, liberal, and liberationist forms of the Wesleyan movement. Whereas most practitioners of all three reject process thought, a few in each group appropriate it in part or in whole. It is obvious that I wish more would do so.

One obstacle to its appropriation by evangelicals and liberationists is that the theological appropriation of Whitehead’s thought occurred initially among liberals. That means that process theology as it now exists has a strongly liberal caste. Liberationists initially took it as just one more instance of comfortable members of the white male establishment indulging their intellectual interests in a profoundly oppressive world. There was some justification for this critique. But on the whole process theologians have been open to learning from liberation theologians, and some liberation theologians have recognized their need for types of reflection with which process thought can help them. The lines are not as sharp as originally posed from the side of liberationists.

The strong support among process theologians for liberationist concerns has not always helped to bridge the gap toward evangelicals. Especially those evangelicals who maintain a strongly Calvinist tradition are understandably suspicious of process thought. Nevertheless, there is a large overlap of concerns between evangelicals and process thinkers.

Many evangelicals share with process thinkers resistance to the fragmentation of knowledge that characterizes the modern university and the world in general. Their believe that God created and rules all things leads to different conclusions. Sometimes their efforts to bring coherent lead to imposing answers on scientists in ways that do not seem responsible, but most of them prefer to find ways of dealing responsibly with science without allowing its implicit atheism to determine the outcome.

Most evangelicals also share with process theologians the commitment to be realists in their theological affirmations. In terms of the current use of language, this means that they remain metaphysical, refusing to think of "God" as only a symbol of the community’s faith. They share interest in God’s nature and actions with process theologians. In the case of the more Calvinist evangelicals, it is true, the resulting dialogue is likely to be polemical.

Many of the reasons for the hostility toward process thought by Calvinist evangelicals are similar to their reasons for suspicion of Wesley. Hence there is no need for Wesleyan evangelicals to share in this hostility. Those who continue Wesley’s emphasis on God’s love and on human responsibility find at least some congeniality with Whitehead’s philosophy. Accordingly, a number of Wesleyan evangelicals have allied themselves with process theology on many points. A much friendlier relation is possible here.

I need to close by noting differences between Wesley and process thought and the warnings we process theologians should expect from Wesley. The most obvious is that it is quite possible to become so enthusiastic about Whitehead’s cosmology that the primacy of devotion to Christ is lost. One can become a Whiteheadian instead of a Christian. This has happened. And of course one can become a Whiteheadian as a Jew or as Buddhist. In other words, a Whiteheadian Christian may end up serving two masters. A Wesleyan process theologian cannot follow this course.

This warning can also be formulated in terms of the role of the Bible in process theology. Many process writings in the field of theology approach biblical teaching from the outside, whereas Wesley approached all questions from a point of view that was immersed in scripture. This expresses the fact that most process theology to date has come out of the liberal camp. Two hundred years of biblical scholarship have led to a more external relation to scripture on the part of too many of us. This is a problem that can be corrected by those evangelical process theologians who are genuinely immersed in scripture rather than distinguishing themselves by their objective statements about biblical authority.

Wesley would also warn us about an intellectualism that turns attention away from the personal needs of ordinary individuals. To accept process philosophy does not need to have this effect. But excitement about the solution of intellectual problems can easily distract from effective dealing with deeply personal ones. Wesley organized believers so as to strengthen their faith and enable them to support the evangelism of others. Liberals have lost touch with that, especially the evangelistic dimension, and process theologians coming from the liberal tradition share this weakness. We are more likely to be evangelical about process thought than about the Christian gospel.

Obviously, I am not the best critic of process thought. I hope the previous paragraphs indicate that I have heard criticisms that I take seriously. I am personally clear that my deepest loyalty is to Christ. I came to Whitehead at a point in my life when my Christian beliefs seemed unsustainable in the light of what I was learning of the modern world. The encounter with Whitehead enabled me to remain a Christian and, indeed, to deepen, and I hope, purify my faith.

For me the task is so to understand Christ that the tension between my belief in him and my conviction of the fruitfulness of Whitehead’s philosophy is overcome. Today my faith in Christ is so informed by the worldview I have learned from Whitehead that I can hardly separate them. Perhaps Wesley would warn against that as well. But for myself, I find it an empowering basis to challenge the unchristian culture in which I live. I like to think that Wesley would approve this vocation.

Wesley the Evangelical

I am a Wesleyan. In one sense I have always known that. Although in my childhood I attended chiefly ecumenical Protestant churches in Japan, I knew that I was a Methodist. I was baptized by a Japanese Methodist bishop, and I joined a Southern Methodist church in Georgia at the age of seven. By then I was aware that Methodists looked to John Wesley as their founder. In high school I remember arguing with Presbyterian friends about predestination.

In another sense, I make the statement today with greater emphasis than I have in most of my adult life. My concerns as a young adult were with Christian faith in general -- whether I could continue to be a believer at all. At that juncture it mattered little to me whether the belief would be Catholic or Protestant, much less whether it would be Lutheran or Methodist. The piety of my youth had been shattered by its encounter with modernity, and I teetered on the brink of total abandonment.

I attended the Divinity School of the University of Chicago, an institution with liberal Baptist roots. I attended the First Baptist Church of Chicago because of its openness to Japanese-Americans during World War II and its Japanese pastor, Jitsuo Morikawa. My teachers at the Divinity School were Episcopalian, Unitarian, Presbyterian, Baptist, and Congregationalist. Wesley was not a significant figure in my theological education.

On the other hand, it never occurred to me to change denominations. If I could be a Christian believers at all, I had no desire to be anything but a Methodist. Eventually I qualified for ordination as a Methodist by taking courses in the correspondence school. The North Georgia conference was suspicious of my Chicago-informed theology, but I squeaked through.

For three years I taught at a little Methodist junior college in Appalachia. Then I went to Emory University. I taught a broad swath of courses. The theological issues in a Methodist seminary dealt with the Reformers, by whom one meant Luther and Calvin, and with their contemporary heirs, Barth, Tillich, Bultmann, and the new quest for the historical Jesus. As a "process" theologian, my struggle was to get a foothold in the conversation.

Actually at Emory I did not teach systematic theology. I taught historical theology, and in doing so I did make the point that Wesley should be taken seriously in that discipline. But I spent more time teaching philosophy and humanities in the university than historical theology in the School of Theology. Wesley was one of a hundred figures to whom I gave some attention.

When I came to Claremont in 1958 I was at last able to teach what mattered most to me, that is, what I thought Christians could responsibly believe in the twentieth century. Of course, I still spent much more time introducing students to the great theologians of the twentieth century than propounding my own ideas. In neither category did Wesley figure significantly.

Nevertheless, my interest in Wesley grew. On the occasions when I read about him or dipped into his writings, I was impressed. Also, I became aware that I was more deeply influenced by him than I had realized. As I reflected on the differences between Wesley and the earlier reformers, I saw that these were quite similar to my differences with the Neo-Reformation thinkers who dominated the mid-century discussion. I realized that I was Neo-Wesleyan in much the same sense that they were Neo-Lutheran and Neo-Calvinist.

I remained somewhat suspicious of the whole "neo" approach. And I was suspicious also of the "back to Wesley" tendencies among some Methodists. My own sensitivities accented the enormous intellectual and cultural changes that had occurred in the past two hundred years. Wesley as an eighteenth-century thinker was not as remote from us as Luther and Calvin, but the distance remained great. I knew that it my own religious crisis, reading Wesley would have been no help.

Also, one of the great contributions of Wesleyan denominations seemed to me to be their ecumenical character. I do not mean only that they participated in councils of churches. I mean that in their seminaries, or at least in those of the United Methodist Church, the emphasis on Methodism was muted. Lutheran seminaries accented Luther and the Lutheran confessions. Presbyterian seminaries accented Calvin and the Reformed tradition. Both favored professors who stood in those traditions. We Methodists sought the best professors we could get with little regard to their denominations. The back to Wesley movement seemed to encourage a denominationalism that would be a backward move for Methodism. I wanted Wesley to be heard as one part of a much larger heritage, not singled out as especially normative.

I have stated this in the past tense. That does not mean that I have changed my mind drastically. I am still far more concerned for the future of ecumenical Christianity than for that of my own denomination or the Wesleyan movement as a whole. But my perception of the situation has changed.

First, I have become clear that my concern for ecumenical Christianity instead of denominationalism was also Wesley’s. Indeed, the Methodist tendencies in that direction are derived from him. There is, therefore, in principle, no tension between going back to Wesley and locating him as simply one figure, however impressive, in the ecumenical tradition.

Second, and more important, I gradually realized that my denomination, like most of the old-line denominations, was in serious trouble. In the fifties and sixties I had taken the denomination for granted as the context in which I would work. My ecclesiastical politics were directed to influencing the denomination in the direction of my concerns and convictions. But the decline of the denomination as a whole called for different responses. I regret to say that I was all too slow in shifting gears.

In so far as I have shifted gears and taken some responsibility for the health and future of my denomination, my major efforts have been directed toward renewing lay theology in the church. I became convinced that one major reason for decline was that theology had become an academic discipline rather than the articulation of the faith of ordinary Christians. Unless lay people came to their own confession of faith and were committed to the beliefs at which they arrived, I could not, and cannot, foresee a healthy renewal in the life of the denomination. I did not consciously come to this conviction under the influence of Wesley, but I have little doubt that as the leader of a great lay movement he would agree.

Third, I saw that as the denomination overall declined, instead of drawing together, its leaders became more intense about their differences. Fragmentation accompanied decline. The Methodist ethos that had enabled people of diverse views to work together in mutual respect was an early casualty of numerical losses. That ethos, I now saw more clearly, was itself derived from Wesley.

In this situation I began to think that a return to Wesley, however qualified it must be by the centuries that separate us, could help us to recover the ethos of mutual appreciation and support and a common vision of who we are together and where we want to go. This would not end disagreements about homosexuality and the nature of Biblical authority, but it might provide a context in which these disagreements could be less threatening and Methodists might be more willing to make room for differences.

These judgments have not turned me into a Wesley scholar. I am indeed grateful that there are Wesley scholars around from whom I can learn, and I commend their work to you. Obviously, I like the work of some better than that of others, and on some points I am prepared to enter the argument despite the acute limitations of my scholarship.

There is today a tendency to accent the interpretive character of every statement about a past thinker. Some theorists treat these statements more as new constructions than as clues to the real intentions of the past thinker. This is a healthy reaction to any claim that our historical reconstruction is purely objective or neutral. No Wesley scholar today can avoid selectivity and bias in representing Wesley to us.

But it would be unfortunate if, recognizing this relativity of all our interpretation, we gave up the constant testing of our interpretations against the received texts in the community of scholarly interpreters. I want to commend the society of Wesleyan scholars for their ongoing work in this respect. I think we are much closer to the historical Wesley as a result of their careful scholarship.

My role, however, is not to be a part of that community. I am not a Wesley scholar. I am a theologian who recognizes the influence of Wesley in my own work and who sees the potential of Wesley to help the United Methodist Church and perhaps other Wesleyan denominations as well. I hope my use of Wesley is responsible. I certainly do not want simply to read back into him what I think is needed today. But I am engaged in asking questions of him that were not in his mind. To ask what a past thinker would say about a current issue introduces a level of speculation that gives a central role to the interests of the interpreter. I want to acknowledge that before I proceed.

This lecture and the following three begin with a consideration of segments of the contemporary United Methodist Church. I have selected evangelicals, liberals, liberationists, and process theologians for consideration. My thesis is that all of these can find support in Wesley. It is also my contention that all have failures and weaknesses that need serious criticism, and that much of this criticism can be developed in dialog with Wesley. I hope that those of you who are members of other Wesleyan denominations will find some relevance in these reflections.

Evangelicals, liberals, liberationists, and process theologians, in their present forms, by pressing their several agenda, are tearing the church apart. My thesis is that genuinely Wesleyan evangelicals, Wesleyan liberals, Wesleyan liberationists, and Wesleyan process theologians would respect and appreciate one another. Disagreements would remain, but they would be greatly reduced. And together they could launch a new evangelical movement appropriate to the twenty-first century.

Indeed, the list of types of contemporary Methodists could have been considerably extended. There are also the Orthodox, the post-liberals, the liturgical traditionalists, the multiculturalists, the institutionalists, and those primarily interested in spirituality or in bodily and emotional healing. These also can find support in Wesley. I will comment further on these other groups in my concluding lecture.

I should acknowledge that one or another of the forms of Wesleyanism I have just listed might well be a better candidate for full-length treatment than process theology. Although process theology has some following, it hardly functions as a form of Wesleyanism analogous to the others. A few who have adopted process theology are evangelicals or liberationists; but most, are liberals. This has skewed the use of process categories in particular directions.

My attention to the relation of process theology to Wesley is, therefore, self-indulgent. It is a topic of particular interest to me. And this is the topic on which I am best qualified to speak.

One more acknowledgment of limitation is in order. I realize that I am addressing an audience that is not primarily United Methodist. Nevertheless, as I speak of the contemporary situation and its need of Wesley, my reference is chiefly to the United Methodist Church. I am not sure to what extent my comments are relevant to other Wesleyan churches. It is my impression that most of them have stayed closer to Wesley, or at least tried harder to do so, and have been less caught up in the diverse movements that have swept the denominations that became the United Methodist Church. Certainly they have done much more to keep Wesley studies alive, and for that we United Methodists owe them a great debt. On the other hand, some of them may have read back into Wesley a more conservative, dogmatic, or moralistic mentality than he in fact exhibited.

It is time now to turn to the specific topic of this lecture. To assert that Wesley was an evangelical is the most obvious of my claims. If Wesley was not an evangelical, who was? In my judgment, shared by many, he was the most important leader of the evangelical revival of the eighteenth century. Of course, he was an evangelical!

Nevertheless, that does not mean that all characteristics of those who claim the label, "evangelical," in our time apply to Wesley or that he would support everything that is being done under that rubric today. Hence there is a need to sort out the meanings of the term. For example, I am going to argue in the next lecture that Wesley was a liberal. Today the word "evangelical" is typically paired with "conservative," and it is characteristic of those who call themselves "conservative evangelicals" to be sharply critical of liberals. Of course, Wesley would also be critical of many forms of liberalism, but it is important that today's evangelicals not read their opposition to liberalism in general back into Wesley.

Of course, there are many respects in which Wesley was conservative. Indeed, this is true of all Christians, including those who call themselves "liberals." To be a Christian is to conserve the truth of the Christian gospel. This involves retaining beliefs that are not supported by the culture generally. Often these beliefs were more widely held in the past than they are in the present. They may, indeed, be in radical opposition to dominant elements in the culture. In many contexts in our nation today, especially in our universities, to affirm the reality of God is a very conservative act.

On the other hand, when "liberal" means simple accommodation to the culture, then there are good reasons to attack liberalism. Just as Wesley does not fit today's model of the conservative evangelical, so also his liberalism was quite different from that of many contemporary liberals. For one thing, Wesley's liberalism was certainly not opposed to evangelicalism!

Now we can ask, what was the heart of evangelicalism in the eighteenth century? It was the belief that the gospel had utmost importance for all people individually and that this placed a supreme obligation on believers to bring the message to those who had not heard it. Since the established churches were not reaching large segments of the population, evangelicals could not be content with ordinary churchmanship. They must organize to bring the message to those who needed to hear it even if this brought them into tension with the established structures. No one worked at this task more constantly or effectively than John Wesley.

Those who call themselves "evangelicals" today are also often in the forefront of efforts to bring the gospel to those who have not heard it effectively. In this they are in healthy tension with the dominant tendencies of the United Methodist Church. For various reasons, most United Methodists have redefined evangelism as inviting their neighbors to go to church with them, and even this kind of evangelism is spoken about more than it is practiced. To whatever extent "evangelicals" actually bring the gospel to the vast numbers of people in our society who need its message, they stand in the tradition of Wesley and rightly claim his mantle against the dominant trends in my denomination.

Furthermore, today's evangelicals rightly recognize that a major reason for the failure of Methodists to witness to their friends and neighbors is a lack of confidence that they have anything of great value to share. This is the "liberalism" they rightly deplore. Here, also, today’s evangelicals stand fully with Wesley and bring needed critique.

Today's evangelicals rightly identify the loss of conviction about Biblical authority as a major source of the decline of evangelical fervor in the United Methodist Church. Here, again, they can claim the heritage of Wesley. No preacher has ever been more biblical than he. His sermons are often little more than rearrangements of biblical texts with a few connectives thrown in! He lived and thought in the language of the Bible. He saw the world through biblical spectacles.

Finally, today's evangelicals continue a tradition of deep personal piety. This involves the cultivation of a sense of closeness to God, experience of the Spirit, and intimacy with Christ. There is an expectancy of divine aid and guidance, a trust in providence, a readiness to respond to God's call. There is also an examination of motives, a readiness to confess one's failures and sins with real feeling, and a cultivation of loving relations to others.

Of course, I speak in idealistic terms. But evangelicals give time and attention to these dimensions of faith, many of which have been lost in much of the church as piety was redefined as pietism and rejected. Today in circles where this has happened keen interest has arisen in "spirituality." People hunger for deeply-felt religious experience of the sort the evangelical tradition has never lost. But the focus on spirituality leads more in the direction of mysticism than of the piety Wesley ultimately encouraged. It often separates the inner life from the outer life in a way that evangelicals avoid. Inner serenity often replaces love of God and neighbor as the primary goal. Evangelicals who are more faithful to Wesley avoid these dangers.

In these ways, many features of contemporary Wesleyan evangelicalism give authentic expression to the impetus from Wesley. Evangelical services often call for personal decision in ways that most other Methodist services do not. They challenge youth more effectively than most Methodists and evoke decisions for full-time Christian service at a higher rate than others. No doubt more evangelicals are able to engage their neighbors in serious discussion of their faith than is true of most other Methodists. Probably a higher percentage of evangelicals than of Methodists generally consciously and intentionally make their personal decisions, day by day, on the basis of their faith. Almost certainly they give more time to Biblical study and prayer than most others. It is likely also that they give more generously of their substance. Methodism needs its evangelicals!

Unfortunately, all this, commendable as it is, is still a far cry from Wesley's own evangelicalism. Wesley undertook to supplement the activity of the Church of England with a program aimed at bringing the gospel to the masses of estranged people and helping them to transform their personal and social lives. Contemporary Wesleyan evangelicals, at least in the United Methodist Church, have taken only one major initiatives in this direction, the establishment of a separate board of foreign missions. They did so because they wanted missionaries to deal with personal conversions to Christ and avoid liberationist entanglements. In general their claim to be evangelicals is more that they believe in evangelism than that they practice it on any large scale.

Indeed, the difference between many contemporary Methodist evangelicals and Wesley is greater than this would indicate.

First, evangelicals today often associate their position with that of holding fast to traditional doctrines. No doubt there is some justification for their belief that the lessening of knowledge and conviction about these doctrines has left a void that leads to lack of evangelical fervor in the church as a whole. But Wesley himself was more impressed by the fact that people could disagree on many of these matters and yet commit themselves with equal fervor to the evangelical task. He did not insist on holding to any particular Christology or doctrine of the Trinity, for example.

One might argue that this difference in attitude toward doctrine reflects a difference in our situations. In his day diverse views were held with real conviction such that people acted on them. Today people are lacking in such conviction. To renew it, some evangelicals argue, traditional doctrines must be vigorously reaffirmed. But if this is the argument, its supporters must recognize that they cannot claim the mantle of Wesley for this approach. And thus far the practical gains from trying to re-impose orthodox teaching have been modest indeed.

If evangelicals would direct their criticism chiefly to the absence of conviction and fervor, so widespread, in the church, they could play a very positive, and authentically Wesleyan, role in promoting serious doctrinal study in the church. But too often they direct their attack not at this great weakness of the church but at those who do have fervent beliefs leading to commitment and action, when these beliefs differ from the one's held by evangelicals. It is here that their departure from Wesley is most harmful.

Second, some evangelicals call for a renewal of an otherworldly outlook. Certainly much of the revivalism associated with the American frontier urged people to consider the rewards and punishments that were promised after death. The erosion of fear of Hell has played a significant role in ending the effectiveness of that kind of evangelism. Some evangelicals want the church to reemphasize its belief in life after death as a place of judgment.

No one doubts that Wesley believed in life after death. But what is surprising is how little he appealed to fear of Hell or even to the expectation of rewards after death. His preaching focused overwhelmingly on growth in love in this life worked in our hearts by the Holy Spirit. It was hunger for this deep personal transformation that he evoked in his hearers.

Third, in the public sphere, the most visible aspects of the evangelical witness today are typically moralistic, and the moralism is often related to sexuality. In Wesley's teaching sexual matters are hardly mentioned. He held believers to very high standards, but these were all derived from his understanding of the implications of the love of God and neighbor.

This moralistic tendency in contemporary evangelicalism also leads evangelicals to play a divisive role within the church. They have made themselves especially visible by leading the attack on homosexual activity. Here they have insisted that the national church restrict the freedom of annual conferences with respect to ordination and the freedom of local congregations with respect to the kinds of services they are allowed to hold. In short, in order to impose their views on the church as a whole they have insisted on centralizing authority in the national church and using that authority to demand that many -- bishops, clergy, and lay people -- act contrary to their consciences. This is profoundly unWesleyan!

Fourth, the understanding of biblical authority they use to justify this program is one that few Methodists would employ in other areas. It is not one that draws support from Wesley. His biblicism comes from immersion in the Bible and testing everything in terms of the conviction that God is love and of the love commandment. The current evangelical biblicism turns a few scattered condemnations of certain homosexual practices in the ancient world into a law against all forms of homosexual activity today.

Obviously, I am not being neutral or dispassionate on this matter. I think that denying freedom of conscience to a third of its members has been a profoundly unWesleyan act of the United Methodist Church. When Christians must choose between obeying church rules and their convictions about what God calls them to do, a good many will follow God's call. The efforts of the denomination to prevent this, led and goaded by its evangelicals, are creating tensions that may lead to schism. The claim that this suppression of conscience of fellow Methodists must be done in order to be faithful to the Bible is remote from Wesley's own biblicism.

Let me hasten to say that I do not know what Wesley's views on homosexuality were. There is no indication that he thought much about the matter. Nor would I dare to conjecture "what Wesley would say if he were alive today." His lack of attention to sexual behavior might lead him to say that any Christian should be prepared to be celibate if the active expression of sexuality would be an offense to others. That would mean that he would oppose homosexual unions. On the other hand, he might judge that all persons should find that way of life that best enables them to love their neighbors as themselves and God with all their hearts, minds, and soul. He might judge that, for some, faithful relations with another person of the same gender would be best. What he would not do, I am convinced, is build a political campaign within the church to exclude all who judge differently on this matter and who would act on their judgment.

More broadly we may ask how Wesley would view the contemporary evangelical movement as a whole. Would he regard it as expressing his spirit and his deepest concerns? I do not think so.

What, now, would it mean to recover an authentic Wesleyan evangelicalism in our day? It would build on the existing piety of many ordinary Wesleyans, whether or not they label themselves as evangelicals.

These Methodists believe that their relation to God as Holy Spirit through Christ is of supreme importance for their lives. They hunger for a deeper realization of the Spirit's presence and working within them. They seek through prayer and Bible study to find God's will for their lives. They know that growth in grace expresses itself in their love of God and neighbor. They know that their love is halting and imperfect, but they try to let it determine their actions.

They know also that love of neighbor has very real and concrete meaning. It means attentiveness to the neighbor's needs and willingness to respond even at considerable personal cost. It means that this response is more important than the accumulation of personal wealth or attaining success in the eyes of the world. They know also that responding well takes thought and is learned partly by trial and error.

They understand that neighbors are not only those who live nearby but also persons on the other side of the world. Concern for them cannot express itself as directly. It may mean giving money in support of education, health care, or agricultural missions. It may mean support of legislation that will benefit them.

They believe deeply that the life of love that the Holy Spirit is working within them is one that is needed by others as well. They see many around them whose lives are misdirected toward the accumulation of earthly goods even at the cost of human relationships. They see some who have turned to alcohol or other drugs to ease the emptiness and despair of a meaningless life. They are convinced that the deepest need of these people is to hear the good news that God loves all and is ready to work savingly in the lives of all who will allow that to happen. When they can do so in ways that do not push others away, they witness verbally to their beliefs.

They know that their churches are far from perfect, but they believe in the importance of the fellowship of believers and in gathering for worship. They want their children to be brought up in that fellowship and to be encouraged to seek God's will for their lives. They give generously of their time and talents and money to support their church. They emphasize the positive contributions of church leaders rather than their weakness and disagreements. They strive for unity and harmony in the body of Christ.

They love the United Methodist church but not in such a way as to question the work of God in other denominations. They support working with other Christians wherever that helps to further God's work in the world. They want mutual understanding and appreciation, not suspicion and competition.

They know that people are often most comfortable in the company of persons much like themselves. They know that suspicion and hostility can develop toward those who are different, even toward those who share the Christian faith. They know that historically many Christians have been racists and nationalists in ways that are deeply contrary to the gospel and to Wesley's message and mission. They regret the community's sins and their own participation in them, and they seek to repent in the full sense of changing direction toward a love of those who are different that enables all to contribute freely to the common good.

When they encounter Jews or Muslims or Buddhists or Hindus, they are open to seeing goodness in them as well. Knowing that God works in all, and recognizing the wisdom and virtue in the lives of those who do not affirm Christ, they thank God for these people as well, and are open to learning from them. But they are also ready to witness to them of their own experience of Christ.

Are there many United Methodists like this today? I think the answer is Yes, but I fear the number is declining. On the one side, the open spirit of many of them has eroded their confidence in the universal importance of Christ. They have become more relativistic and less sure that they have something to offer others.

On the other hand, the danger of losing the specifics of their faith has led others to follow leaders who call for closure. Openness to the Spirit is then understood to channel their thinking and acting in prescribed ways. They are taught to oppose other factions in the church and to become militant in promoting particular views about personal morality.

Can this polarization be reversed? That is my hope. That would require that those whose confidence in the centrality of Christian faith has been eroded recover that confidence. It would require that those who, in order to defend that centrality, have moved to closure and legalism return to their former openness. This cannot happen by simply reversing what has happened in recent decades. It can only happen by moving forward in particular ways.

I am proposing that reencountering Wesley can help. I am proposing that there will be much more hope of help if, as these people reencounter Wesley, other groups of United Methodists also do so. In the next lecture we will consider Wesleyan liberals and their relation to Wesley.

The Theological Stake in Globalization

I. Ecclesiastical Globalization

Christians have been interested in globalization from the earliest days of the faith.

We inherited from Israel a story about the whole earth; so we have understood ourselves in the context of global history. We have understood that the good news about Jesus Christ was to be carried throughout the world. (Mt. 28:19; Acts 1:8) Although this globalizing impulse has waxed and waned, it has never been absent. Finally, in the nineteenth century, it came close to realization with the implantation of Christian churches in almost all countries.

In the twentieth century, this form of Christian globalization has been called into question. We have come to recognize that the missionary movement has often been too insensitive to its cultural bias. We have confused the gospel with North Atlantic culture. We have connected missions with colonialism. We have disrupted traditional cultures. And we have failed to appreciate the wisdom of the other traditions from which we have sought converts.

This has not led us to lose interest in globalization, but it has changed the character of the globalization we seek. We have emphasized the importance of the indigenization of Christianity in the many cultural contexts in which it now exists. We have encouraged autonomy of these indigenized churches from Euro-American control. We have developed a World Council of Churches in which these younger churches have equal place with the older ones.

Even more important, perhaps, since the World Parliament of Religions in 1894, the emphasis has shifted from proselytizing to dialogue and cooperation. We have

recognized that we have much to learn from other religious traditions. We are now seeking new institutional expressions of our shared concerns, such as the new ongoing World Parliament of Religions and the United Religions Initiative.

During the same period some of us have become aware of the global context of our lives in a different way. Earth Day 1970 awakened us to the devastation human beings had wreaked on our natural context. The famed essay of Lynn White, Jr. on the "Historical Origins of the Ecological Crisis" forced us to recognize that our own teachings had contributed to the blindness and indifference to this context that characterized most of Western culture. The church is now struggling to think globally about these matters.

However, we have not gathered here to reflect about ecclesiastical globalization. Our concern is with economic globalization and, specifically, with that form of economic globalization that has advanced so rapidly in the past twenty years. I am invited to address this truly remarkable phenomenon from the standpoint of a Christian theologian.

II. Economic Globalization

Does a Christian, as Christian, have anything distinctive to say about this form of globalization? The answer to this, as to so many questions, is Yes and No. On the No side, Christians have no monopoly on any of the concerns that we may offer to the discussion. We derived most of them from the ancient Hebrews, and they continue to inform contemporary Judaism. We share many of them with modern ethical humanists as well as adherents of other religious traditions. On the Yes side, clearly, we do have relevant concerns. We also have strong convictions. There are many people who do not share all our convictions, but we feel that we have the right to voice our convictions in the public arena alongside others. I will identify seven such convictions and comment on the implications of each for the evaluation of economic globalization.

First, we have a concern for the whole world. We oppose parochialism. We believe that people everywhere are just as precious in God’s sight as our next-door neighbors. We are convinced that our concern for the well-being of others should extend to all of them.

Economic globalization scores quite well in this regard. It brings people all over the world into contact with one another. Caricatures and stereotypes of various foreigners are modified positively if they do not disappear altogether. Ethnic prejudices decline. People from various parts of the world are treated more or less equally, depending on their roles in the market rather than their race or nationality

Second, we affirm the enjoyment of economic goods. Although ascetic practices have their place in some spiritual disciplines, it is a limited place. Good food, fresh water, adequate clothing, comfortable homes, reliable health care, and other goods and services produced by the economy are positive values.

The global economy is unquestionably producing a vast increase in goods and services. In and of itself, Christians support the goal of supplying more goods and services, and the globalized economy is doing this on a large scale.

Third, there are other values that are not produced by the economy. Perhaps the most important is human community. We believe that rich relations among people are essential to personal well-being. We rejoice that these relations can now include global ones, but we believe that ongoing relations with those close at hand are crucial.

On this point a Christian must be critical of economic globalization. One of the disturbing features of the earlier Christian globalization was the disruption of existing communities. Economic globalization disrupts on a much larger scale. Further, whereas the new Christian churches constituted important communities for the converts, economic globalization generates nothing comparable

Fourth, we believe that human beings flourish when they have considerable ability to shape their own lives. This is partly a purely individual matter, but it is more importantly a matter of personal participation in community decisions.

With regard to individual decision-making, there may be some gain from globalization. It can be argued that the breakdown of traditional community frees individuals. The market is composed of individuals who freely buy and sell labor and commodities. Each makes his or her own decisions. On the other hand, the great majority of individuals lose access to any means of production. When they sell their labor, they have no self-determination in the day-to-day decisions about how it will be used. People with whom they have no personal contact, often in distant parts of the world, typically decide whether their jobs will continue or end. Most feel – and are --more powerless than they felt – and were -- in traditional society

Fifth, we are concerned not only for all who are now alive but also for generations yet unborn. We believe it is always important to consider the long-term consequences of actions as well as the short-term ones. Since people are in general inclined to emphasize short-term consequences, our task is often to extend the horizons.

Advocates of economic globalization often appeal to just this principle. They recognize that the disruptions it introduces are painful, but they are confident that, in the long run, all will benefit. On the other hand, the more radical critics of globalization believe that continuing in the present direction will lead to disaster. Christians divide in their judgments on this exceedingly important question. I will return to this topic.

Sixth, we are convinced that what should concern us most are the consequences for those whom Jesus called "the least of these." (Mt. 25:40,45) In New Testament times these were often identified as the widows and orphans, because their place in society was least secure and most marginalized. Today we call for a preferential option for the poor.

. This is one of the places where Christian perceptions clash most sharply with supporters of contemporary patterns of globalization and with the dominant schools of economics that justify them. Much of economic theory deals with how to attain sustainable growth. Distribution of wealth and income are not built into the theory. Welfare economics avoids issues of income inequality by appealing to the principle of Pareto optimality. In their book, On Income Inequality, (Oxford: Clarendon Press, expanded edition, 1997), James Foster and Amartya Sen explain this as follows: "The principle of Pareto optimality was evolved precisely to cut out the need for distributional judgements. A change implies a Pareto-improvement if it makes noone worse off and someone better off." The situation is optimal if no change would improve the lot of some without worsening that of another. In other words, even a substantial improvement of the lot of the poor is not favored if it would cost the rich anything at all. (pp.6-7).

It is obvious that Foster and Sen are among the many economists who are not indifferent to inequality. On the contrary, they have contributed alternative approaches. Unfortunately, the more influential modification of welfare economics has been effected by Kaldor and Hicks, who argue in utilitarian fashion that an improvement has been made as long as gains to gainers exceed losses to losers. Although in principle this would allow for improving the lot of the many poor at the expense of the few rich, in practice it has functioned to support growth-oriented policies that have been detrimental to many of the poor. Since it is economic thinking following either Pareto or Kaldor-Hicks that shapes globalization, and since the poor are in fact not profiting, at least not proportionately, Christians must be critical.

This list of Christian concerns could have been formulated a century ago. It is largely uncontroversial among us, although there are disputes about the relative emphasis to be placed on each concern. But from today’s perspective, these concerns are far too limited. During the past thirty years we have come to recognize that our standard teachings ignore the natural world, viewing everything in human terms. Some Christians continue to defend this anthropocentrism, but most of these now recognize that human well-being is bound up with the well-being of the natural world. Other Christians, among whom I count myself, have gone further to reaffirm the Biblical doctrine that the whole world is God’s creation and that God saw that this creation was good even apart from human beings. (Gen. 1:11, 18, 24) The World Council of Churches has declared "the integrity of creation" to be a central guideline for its work, along with peace and justice.

How does globalization affect the integrity of creation? There are respects in which it may help. For example, industry in developing countries is less efficient in its use of resources and more polluting than that in developed countries. Transnational corporations transfer technology that improves this situation. But overall, globalization has contributed to rapid deforestation, over-fishing, exhaustion of fresh water supplies, degradation of soil, pollution of the air, and global warming

III. Economism

In view of these considerations, Christians can only conclude that the present form of economic globalization has been promoted in terms of a system of values that we cannot support. In recent decades society as a whole has been persuaded that the most important value is economic growth. I call this ideology "economism." It is profoundly opposed to Christianity. Indeed, for Christians, it is an idolatry, one that was specifically rejected by Jesus (Mt. 6:24). A Christian must condemn a society that organizes itself for the pursuit of wealth and encourages its citizens to order their lives in this way. Since the globalization now occurring in the world is an extension of that type of society, as a Christian, I cannot support it.

In response to the power of this idolatry, our primary role as Christians may be to instill the values that come from serving God and not wealth. The values identified above are among these. If we had succeeded in this task, and if other religious and secular communities had also succeeded in transmitting more humanistic and ecological values, society would not have become economistic. We are now called to confess and repent more than to criticize others.

Nevertheless, we have another task as well. We cannot simply critique economism and its consequences. We should propose forms of economic life that more nearly conform to our understanding of the world and our concerns for it.

The situation is analogous to that faced by the church of my youth. In those days, the 1930’s, the dominant idolatry was nationalism. The idolatry was obvious, even explicit, in Germany, Italy, and Japan, but in less virulent forms it was present in other countries as well. This idolatry plunged the world into the horrors of World War II.

It was easy to see that nationalism was an idolatry, but condemning it did not mean that we rejected nations as such or failed to care especially about our own. We typically taught that while nationalism was bad, patriotism was good. Devotion to God does not exclude many subordinate devotions, such as devotion to one’s country, as long as they remain subordinate

Today we need a similar response to the new idolatry of economism. We reject the idea that the meaning of human life is to be found in the pursuit of wealth. We deny that economic growth is to be sought at all costs. We oppose the restructuring of societies everywhere based primarily on economic considerations. We reject the industrialization of the health care system and the redefinition of education as preparation to serve the market. We oppose the idea that the courts should be more committed to supporting productive efficiency than to fairness. We struggle against the domination of politics by economic interests. But we emphatically do not deny the importance of the economy and its capacity to serve essential human needs

Accordingly, it is important for Christians not only to condemn economism but also to propose ways to make the economy serve humanity better. For some years I have been trying to make such proposals. They have centered on the questions of human community and a sustainable relationship to the natural world. They have, of course, also dealt with the distribution of wealth and income, but primarily in the context of community and ecology. Today I will reverse the order and focus on the question of poverty. If we complain that the present global economy fails the test of serving the poor, what changes can we propose?

IV. The Dominant Proposal

Before launching into proposals for major changes, we need to consider the possibility that the present form of globalization can itself solve the problem of poverty. The argument that this could be accomplished was first presented in the Brundtland Report to the United Nations. A thoughtful book by Robin Marris, entitled Ending Poverty, (New York: Thames and Hudson, 1999) reaffirms this claim, building on a 1997 White Paper for the British government. (Eliminating World Poverty: A Challenge for the 21st Century).

Marris believes that 5% annual growth in the developing world can be maintained, if it is not blocked by non-economic factors, such as revolution and war.

Even taking account of the increase of population, this rate of growth, evenly distributed among social classes, would eliminate absolute poverty by 2050. By the end of the century, he proposes, slower growth in the developed world will increase per capita income four or fivefold. By that time, the 5% growth in the developing world will bring about a thirty-fold increase in per capita income there and will close the gap between now developed and developing countries. In this scenario, global production would increase five-fold by mid-century and thirty-fold by the end of the century.

I will consider this proposal in terms of three types of criticism. First, how can we insure that the poor will participate proportionately in the growth? Second, is the required growth possible? Third, does the proposal take into account the economic and human costs of growth?

V. Participation of the Poor in Growth

Thus far, growth has not been distributed equally among classes. Despite a huge increase in global production in the past fifty years, nearly half the world’s people still lives on less than two dollars a day. A recent United Nations report states that in the last five years, the percentage of the world’s population earning less than one dollar a day has increased from 17% to 19%. That this is not simply a matter of an early phase of development is shown by the fact that the poor have lost ground in the United States during the past quarter century. When governments and labor unions do not interfere, the market tends to concentrate wealth in the hands of the most powerful players, the rich. This has been happening globally, and Marris does not discuss how this is to be changed.

Without equal distribution, the total increase in production would have to be much larger. If the income of the poor rises at half the rate of GDP, then the total increase required to remove absolute poverty would have to be a factor of ten; if the rise is one-fourth as fast, a factor of twenty. To achieve such growth will take far more than fifty years. And since considerable growth in GDP can in fact take place with no improvement whatsoever in the condition of the poor, as recent U.S. history has shown, even these ratios may be optimistic.

The point here is that, at the very least, one who wants to solve the problem of poverty by economic growth must consider how a reasonable portion of that growth is to reach the poor. The changes required would not challenge economic globalization as such, but they would challenge its present form. This present form reflects what is known as the Washington Consensus, involving the United States government, the International Monetary Fund, and the World Bank.

The Washington Consensus centers on the idea that development should be through corporate investment rather than governmental and intergovernmental grants and loans. To encourage corporate investment, national boundaries should be downgraded so that goods and capital can flow freely around the world. In short, the ideal is that a single global market replace the international economy that was dominant in earlier decades.

Each country should privatize all productive assets and make them available for purchase by international capital. It should cease to protect its businesses from international competition and concentrate only on that production in which it has a comparative advantage. It should adopt governmental policies that make it attractive for transnational investment. To a truly remarkable degree, the Washington Consensus has governed global economic policy since the early 1980s, and in the nineties, it has approached its goal of a unified global market.

There has been no lack of protest. The East Asian tigers have pointed out that they achieved their success in ways quite counter to the requirements of the Washington Consensus, and there has been much opposition to some of these policies in developing nations and in the United Nations. The World Development Report 2000 confirms that the World Bank’s concern for poverty reduction has led its leadership out of the Washington Consensus, recognizing that, by itself, the growth produced by economic globalization has not met the needs of the poor. However, the Report did not go as far as some had anticipated in critiquing the results of economic globalization. It continues to claim that globalization does benefit the poor, and the Bank continues its commitment to a globalized economy within which the investments of transnational corporations will be the main engine of growth. Although there is now talk of a post-Washington Consensus model of development that adjusts to some of these criticisms, it continues the commitment to globalization and overall economic growth, differing only in regard to the best means of achieving this. (Cf. Charles Gore, "The Rise and Fall of the Washington Consensus as a Paradigm for Developing Countries," World Development, May 2000, pp. 789-804.) Only among some of the nongovernmental organizations does one find a more radical critique of the focus on economic growth and globalization.

The policies promoted by the Washington Consensus have also shaped internal affairs in this country. It may be easier to understand these policies by focusing on how they work out here. In the United States they take the form of what Barry Bluestone and Bennett Harrison call "the Wall Street model" (Growing Prosperity: The Battle for Growth with Equity in the Twenty-First Century. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Company, 2000). This model is so designed as to prevent the poor from benefiting from economic growth.

The basic assumption is that investment is the engine of economic progress. Investment depends on borrowing, and the amount invested depends on the interest rate. Hence keeping interest rates low is of crucial importance. Because rates rise if there is fear of inflation, we need policies that prevent inflation. One such policy is to maintain sufficient unemployment to keep wages low. If economic growth threatens to reduce unemployment below five or six percent, it is the duty of the Federal Reserve Board to cool the economy by raising short-term interest rates. This anti-inflationary policy is to be accompanied by reduced taxes, especially on the rich, a balanced budget, de-regulation of business, weakening labor unions, free trade, and capital mobility. One may readily see that the growth resulting from these policies will not be evenly distributed among social classes.

A number of recent writers (e.g. James K. Galbraith, Created Unequal: The Crisis in American Pay. New York: The Free Press, 1998) have recognized this and proposed alternatives. Bluestone and Harrison call their alternative "the Main Street model." It calls for a larger role for the government in promoting research and development as well as education, for fair trade based on labor rights and standards, for an expansionary fiscal policy, for rising wages and improved employment security, and for regulation and taxation of speculative capital movements around the world. The net result would be to distribute income more equitably.

It is obvious that the goals and intentions of this model are more in harmony with Christian concern for the poor than is the present system. The question is whether policies following from it would have their intended effect or would in fact lead to the runaway inflation against which the Wall Street model is intended to guard us. Is the Wall Street fear that low unemployment would lead to runaway inflation well grounded?

The standard argument is in two steps: the Phillips Curve and NAIRU, the non-accelerating inflation rate of unemployment. The Phillips Curve posits that as unemployment rises, inflation declines and, of course, that as unemployment is reduced, inflation rises. It implies a trade-off between these considerations. It allows liberals to argue that reduced unemployment is worth acceptance of a somewhat higher rate of inflation, while conservatives argue for acceptance of higher levels of unemployment for the sake of reduced inflation.

In 1968, however, Milton Friedman introduced an argument that soon gave the victory to the conservatives. He argued that if unemployment triggers wage increases, the rate of inflation will rise much faster than the Phillips Curve indicates. It will be accelerated by expectations of inflation that will feed on themselves. Interest rates will rise in anticipation of inflation thus fueling further inflation. It is important, therefore, to keep unemployment at its "natural rate," which is the one that does not accelerate inflation.

Recent historical experience of low unemployment without inflation has opened the door to questioning whether federal policy to keep wages low by maintaining unemployment has ever been justified. The unemployment rate has fallen well below the supposed NAIRU without inflation. There are alternate readings of the history that show that the pre-NAIRU policies geared to reducing unemployment had positive effects throughout the economy. It may be that full employment brings into production unused fixed capital, the cost of using which is minimal. As a result, even if the workers are less efficient or wages rise, the cost of the goods they produce does not increase. It may also be that when labor is scarce, employers are under more pressure to institute laborsaving practices and hence raise productivity. In any case, there is now good reason to challenge any continuation of the unemployment policies that have for decades imposed such suffering on the poor. They are particularly vicious when combined with so-called "welfare reform" that punishes those who are kept unemployed by just these policies.

In addition to these fiscal policies, wages are kept low by international competition. The extent to which this applies to U.S. wages is uncertain, but it is quite certain that the Structural Adjustment enforced on developing countries by the IMF and the World Bank encourage them to compete for transnational investments, and that low wages are one of the ways they compete. Often in the process of structural adjustment, the lowering of wages is achieved by deflation of the currency combined with no increase in wages. If the Mexican peso is reduced in value by thirty percent, and wages in pesos are held constant, the buying power of the worker declines.

The Main Street model of Bluestone and Harrison corresponds with the "people-centered" approach to development. In this model, nations control their own economic affairs and develop programs that are specifically targeted to the relief of poverty. In the 1970s and 80s, India’s growth rate was slow, but its economic independence allowed it to reduce the proportion of its population that was poor. In the past decade, its acceptance of the Washington Consensus has led to faster growth but no further reduction of poverty. (Amitabh Pal, "Does Global Economic Policy Help the Poor? No. Globalization Severely Harms Them," The Hartford Courant, July 29, 2000.) Policies directed to the people-centered goal of poverty-reduction are quite different from those directed primarily to an increase of GDP.

VI. Limits to Growth

There are many who view the global situation in such a way that the goal of increased growth appears entirely unrealistic. They see the global bio-system as already under acute stress. Present patterns of human life on the planet are already unsustainable. A vast increase of production will hasten catastrophe. Although Marris shows, rightly, that a five-fold increase in production need by no means quintuple the stress on the environment, those who deal concretely with what is already happening to agricultural lands, forests, fisheries, air, and water are not thereby reassured.

Economists on the whole are in a poor position to respond to these concerns. They have been schooled to believe that where capital suffices, natural resources pose no limit. This conviction is so deep that most of them apply it quickly when confronted with particular problems. The idea has so much truth that they feel no need to explore the limits where it breaks down.

There are two main elements in this truth. First, better technology can often make use of resources inaccessible to the older technology. Second, a more abundant resource can be substituted for one that is becoming scarce. These changes occur on the dictates of the market. That is, when the price of a mineral rises, it is worth investing in new technology and mining lower grades. Or it is worth finding a substitute, such as a form of plastic, that can do the same job

Robin Marris is far from indifferent to ecological questions, and he does snot rely entirely on market signals. For example, he has a very simple solution to deforestation. This should be forbidden by law. He does not tell us, however, how the multiplying demand for forest products is to be satisfied.

With regard to the supply of fish, he points out, rightly, that many edible species not yet exploited can replace the popular ones that have been decimated by over-fishing and that there can be more fish farms. When demand exceeds supply, the price of fish will rise. Consumers will then shift to alternative sources of protein. But he does not tell us what these are and where and how they will be produced.

Marris takes the prospects of global warming seriously. He expects its negative and positive effects on agriculture to balance out. Flooding of low-lying islands and coastal plains and increased destructiveness of storms will be costly, but since the annual cost will be around one and a half per cent of Global World Product, it is affordable.during the first half of the twenty-first century.

This does not mean that Marris is complacent about long-term consequences. He knows that these would eventually become catastrophic if nothing were done to halt the build up of carbon in the atmosphere. But he is convinced that technology can be developed to stabilize these emissions at an acceptable level while production rises dramatically.

Like most economists, Marris is not particularly concerned about food production. Agriculture is an area to which economists often point as illustrating their thesis. The application of capital and new technology has vastly increased global production. There has been no global shortage of food. Hunger results nor from the lack of food but from inability to pay for it. Amartya Sen has shown that this is true even in the case of famines occasioned by crop failures. (Poverty and Famines: An Essay on Entitlement and Deprivation. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1981). The solution, therefore, is economic growth. Sen has also shown that food production has increased faster than population over the long haul and has continued to do so in the past quarter century. (Development as Freedom. New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1999, Chapter 9)

Nevertheless agriculture is an area in which those most deeply involved are highly skeptical of the economists’ confidence that vastly increased demand can be met. Lester Brown was a leading participant in one of the economists’ great success stories, the Green Revolution. By applying new technology and capital, production of several grains was vastly increased. India, which was suffering from shortages of food, became a net exporter of grain.

But Brown warns us strongly against technological optimism. Whereas thus far actual global food shortages have been warded off by just the kind of developments economists count on, possibilities for such developments are becoming scarce. His book, Who Will Feed China? (New York: W.W. Norton & Co., 1995) shows that China’s population growth combined with a rising standard of living will lead to an enormous increase in demand, while the loss of cropland will make it difficult to increase production. China will need to import huge quantities of grain, more than is likely to be available, thus driving prices up and working great hardship on the global poor. In more general terms, he argues that around 1990 a shift took place from world food abundance to a lessening ability to meet demand. A reader of Brown finds talk of a fivefold increase in the next fifty years difficult to believe.

The limits of agriculture are relevant to other aspects of the confidence in growth as a solution to poverty. Those who seek alternatives to what is growing scarce, often look to plants. Ethanol can replace gasoline, but as agriculture presses its limits, one cannot foresee a great increase of ethanol production. A five-fold increase in the consumption of paper cannot come from trees unless huge areas are returned from agriculture to forestry. Alternately, growing other crops from which paper can be made will compete with food production.

This is, of course, just one example of the problem of projecting a fivefold increase in production, not to mention a thirty-fold one. When particular shortages are viewed in isolation, solutions are often imaginable. But when one traces through what is involved in a proposed solution, one often finds that it conflicts with the solution of other problems. Limits to growth are not so easily wished away.

The problem of limits is exacerbated by population growth. Marris recognizes this and factors it into his calculations of what is needed to eliminate absolute poverty. There are two features of population growth, however, that he does not consider. His calculations assume that this growth is distributed evenly over the national population, whereas in fact it is concentrated among the poor. In addition, the figures are based on the work of demographers; most of whom do not take into account that the poor often choose to have more children when their prospects improve

VII. The Costs of Growth

Thus far I have spoken as though a vast increase in production slanted to the benefit of the poor would in fact solve the problem of poverty -- if it is physically possible. I have then raised the question of its physical possibility and expressed my own doubts about the kind and amount of growth projected. I now want to challenge a deeper assumption, that is, that growth in the sense of a general increase in economic activity would improve the real economic well-being of people in general and of the poor in particular.

In the discussions thus far, "growth" has meant, as in the conversation generally, increase in gross product. Marris’s proposals deal with per capita Gross Domestic Product. Like most economists, he assumes that this measures, or at least correlates with, economic well-being. This judgment needs to be examined.

GDP includes many things that do not benefit anyone and ignores the losses associated with production. When crime goes up, GDP rises by including all the increased expenditures on police, and courts, and prisons. When an earthquake strikes, all the costs of treating the injured and of rebuilding fatten the GDP. When global warming forces millions to leave their homes and build new ones, GDP will rise. The losses are not subtracted. When oil reserves are reduced, the market value of the oil adds to GDP, and nothing is subtracted because of the reduced reserves. The value of household work is ignored, so that the rise of GDP occasioned by a shift from household to market production counts as pure gain. Also, economic growth may depend on longer hours of labor. The GDP does not take account of the loss of leisure even though economists recognize this as an important consideration.

Noone disputes this. The only question is about the importance of the discrepancy. In the sixties, criticism of reliance by economists on the GNP persuaded William Nordhaus and James Tobin to develop a Measure of Economic Welfare, adding to and subtracting from the GNP as economic teaching dictated. They compared GNP and MEW from 1929 to 1965. Overall they found that there was no important difference between their rate of growth in the thirties and forties. However, in the fifties and sixties, while per capita GNP continued to grow rapidly, per capita MEW leveled off. Although their diagrams clearly showed this, they ignored this fact in their own conclusions. They said there was enough overall correlation between the two measures that they were satisfied to use the GNP as an indication of economic welfare.

Given the scholarly and personal character of the two economists, I find it astounding that they failed to note that in the years since World War II, economic welfare had not been appreciably improved by massive economic growth. I can understand this failure only in terms of their devotion to standard practices in the discipline of economics as it relates to policy. A Christian values actual effects on human beings more. Accordingly, I worked for some years in the eighties to get persons more qualified than myself to renew this project by developing an Index of Sustainable Economic Welfare. My son, Cliff, ended up doing most of the work. We published our results in For the Common Good, which I wrote with Herman Daly. Later, an organization called Redefining Progress picked up the project and developed an improved measure, which it called the Genuine Progress Indicator. Similar projects have been undertaken in a number of other countries. The results have shown that economic growth as measured by GDP now often leads to little or no improvement in sustainable economic welfare. In some cases, welfare actually declines while production increases.

In many parts of the world, no doubt, overall growth is needed. Everywhere there is need for some forms of growth. Increased production is certainly not to be systematically avoided. But a general effort to generate growth is a very inefficient, and sometimes counterproductive, means of achieving the kinds of economic growth that are really needed for economic well-being.

If we consider other values important to Christians, the case is still stronger. Consider an example well known in the United States: a factory closing. Policies aimed at increasing GDP favor closing a factory when the capital invested in it can be invested more profitably elsewhere. All the expenses of the move add to the GDP, as does the added profit in the new location. Economists believe that labor should be mobile and find employment elsewhere. In the long run all are expected to benefit.

Sociologists have studied communities that have lost their means of livelihood in this way. They note the rise of alcoholism, wife and child abuse, divorce, mental illness, and so forth. If these are considered at all in economic theory, it will be as GDP increases through the purchase of more alcohol, heightened expenditure on counseling and social work, and increased costs of police, courts, and prisons, and repairing battered bodies.

"Development" in Third World countries is typically accompanied by similar costs. Millions of women and children have been sold into prostitution or have adopted that life as their only option. Poor peasants in Latin America who have now become poor dwellers in favellas have lost the cultural and communal support that once gave some meaning to their lives. Around the world, tens of millions of people, mostly women, who once eked a living from the soil, now labor long hours for pitiful pay, cut off from family and village life, sleeping in worker dormitories. By World Bank statistics, they are part of the success. They now earn more than a dollar a day, but for them, too, the human cost is enormous.

VIII. Some Proposals

If there are many miserably poor people with extensive real economic needs, but policies directed primarily to growth are exceedingly inefficient means of meeting these needs, what can be proposed? Good proposals are harder to come up with than blanket denunciations! But Christians cannot turn our backs on the other peoples of the planet.

All along, Christian and other nongovernmental organizations have been pursuing another model of development that expresses our values much better. We call this "community development." A development worker spends time with the people of a village to understand the nature of life there along with its problems. She or he asks the villagers to discuss what improvement they would most like to see. Perhaps the great distance they have to go to procure water troubles them. The development worker can then offer to help them solve this problem. The help may consist of a pump and a little technical knowledge. But the villagers must install it. Only if they understand it and have ownership will they successfully maintain and use it over a period of time.

In economic terms, the pump will improve the productivity of the villagers. The hours they save in getting the water can be spent on their farms or in making clothing. Of course, the gain will be small in terms of GDP. But it will be a gain for all of them with little or no countervailing cost, economic or social. They may still be poor, but not as poor. It is also possible that success in one such project will lead to another. Perhaps they can be equipped with metal ploughs to replace the wooden ones they have been using. Perhaps they will learn to make more efficient cooking stoves or plant and tend a woodlot nearby.

It is important that these changes not make the villagers dependent on outside technologists or financiers. Appropriate technology is technology they understand and can keep repaired. Replacing a water buffalo with a tractor is usually the wrong step.

Another form of development directed to the poor is micro-lending. Very small loans are made to very poor individuals who have ideas about what they could make and sell but no capital with which to begin. This has been remarkably successful in empowering people, especially women; and the vast majority of the loans are repaid. Again, the contribution to GDP is small, but the contribution to human lives is considerable, and there is little cost to count against the gain.

These examples of people-centered development fit best into a decentralized economy. The international economy that prevailed before the Washington Consensus allowed for more local initiative than does the globalized market that now prevails. Markets controlled by democratic institutions work better for people than markets controlled by transnational corporations. It is important that ordinary people, through their social, cultural, and political institutions take back the power to order their lives.

Obviously, decentralization cannot be supported if it means only fragmentation. Many issues, including economic ones, can only be dealt with on a planetary basis. Our goal must be that the many communities around the world understand this need and constitute themselves as communities of communities. At the global level the United Nations is such a community of communities. Unfortunately, the great economic powers, led by the United States, have prevented the United Nations from shaping the economic life of the world. The European Community in many ways has provided a good model of a community of communities. Unfortunately, in the past decade it has been moving toward an integration that would lose much of the value of more local control. The global market drives it in that direction, whereas a much more promising direction for the planet would be regional, national, and local markets. If that model were accepted, the individual nations involved could go further in the decentralization of political and economic power within them.

In addition to the support of bottom-up development and the decentralization of economic and political power, Christians can support efforts to direct conventional development into channels where the costs are small in relation to the gains. One policy, supported by economists in theory, is pricing goods to cover their full cost to society. The purchaser would have to pay, in the form of a tax, the full cost of the pollution for which gasoline, for example, is responsible. This would be not only the effect on local air quality and of pollution caused by its extraction, transportation, and refining, but also its contribution to global warming. Of course, these calculations would be very difficult, but even some rough approximation would shift significant expenditures into less destructive channels and encourage the purchase of more efficient vehicles.

Similarly, owners of capital who wish to shift the location of their production should pay the full cost of doing so. That would entail an arrangement with the community they are abandoning that will enable it to reestablish itself around some other economic activity or assistance to those who are ready to move on to train for other work. The real costs of the move may prove greater than any gain from it. We should not allow the corporation to have all the profits, while society bears all the costs.

To slow exhaustion of natural resources and avoid the abrupt transition to other sources, the government could limit extraction to something like 3% of known reserves. Auctioning the right to extract this amount (or to import from another country) would allow reduction of other taxes, encourage more efficient use of the resource, and initiate the transition to other sources at an earlier date.

With enough checks in place to protect human communities and natural resources and to reduce pollution, the Main Street paradigm proposed by Bluestone and Harrison could be tried. Even if full-cost pricing and extraction policies slow GDP growth, full employment at a living wage may still be possible.

Economists may complain that policies of this sort work against increased productivity, which is the engine of growth. I have made it clear that I do not regard increasing GDP as a goal worth pursuing. The Christian aim to which I subscribe is human well-being, of which sustainable economic welfare is an important part. Once we have blocked those channels of growth where in fact the cost is greater than the gain, we can seek as much efficiency as possible in others. But in a world in which the real shortage is not labor but resources and sinks, the productivity we should emphasize is of these resources. By these measures, it turns out that the old-fashioned methods of the Amish are more productive than agribusiness.

        1. The Land Tax

I conclude with one more proposal for the relief of poverty. It is that made by Henry George in his book, Progress and Poverty. Whereas discussions of poverty among most economists deal with income, George focuses on ownership. Inequality in the former realm is great, but it is still greater, and growing more rapidly, with respect to ownership.

According to a study by Edward N. Wolff for United for a Fair Economy (See David Moberg, "Congress Feeds the Rich," In These Times, August 7, 2000, pp.17-18.), the concentration of wealth has been increasing rapidly. Between 1983 and 1998, the wealthiest one per cent increased its wealth by 42%. The next 39% gained about half that much, and the middle 20% added 10% to its holdings. The shocking news is that the net worth of the bottom 40% declined by 76%!

If we want to reduce poverty without enormous overall increase of economic activity, we must consider changes in ownership even more than in income. Without confiscating property, society can reduce its value by taxing it. Replacement of the income tax by a wealth tax would make the tax system more progressive.

At present real property is taxed, whereas other forms, such as stocks and bonds, are not. One possibility would be to tax all property as real property is now taxed, and much could be said in favor of such a move. But George’s proposal is quite different. He made a distinction, which has resonance with the Biblical and theological tradition, between what human beings make and what is simply given to us. The latter is the land. In principle it should be a commons functioning for the benefit of all. Sites, in distinction from what is built on them, should not be private property at all. Their value is a function of social developments and not of human labor.

The proposal to which this leads is that taxes on buildings be abolished, whereas the tax on sites be raised substantially. Ideally this tax should ultimately be close to rental value. This would insure that sites be used for the most profitable purpose. Speculative holding of unused land would end. The disincentive to improve decaying buildings would end. Land would become more widely available to those who want to use it. And revenues from this source could replace other taxes, most of which discourage practices, such as work and entrepreneurship, that society should encourage.

There is much in standard economic teaching supportive of taxing sites. A group of American economists, led by James Tobin, wrote to Gorbachev in 1990, encouraging him to retain the land of Russia for the government in the process of privatization, using rents as a major source of income for the state. Unfortunately, this implication of economic theory has not been emphasized by most economists or taken up widely in the United States. This is true despite the fact that such cities as Pittsburgh, which have made minor moves in this direction, have had excellent results.

The ramifications of shifting taxes drastically from improvements, income, and consumption to land are multifarious. George’s theory is far more complex than I have indicated, and much work is needed to bring it up to date. Today the commons includes such things as broadcasting frequencies and air space. George was convinced in his day that private ownership of what should be the commons was the primary cause of poverty. The idea is well worth exploring today.

IX. Conclusions

Deliberate planning and massive human effort have created the present system of globalization. This system exploits the poor and enriches the wealthy. It destroys human communities and devastates the natural world. It is widely supposed that pressing forward in the present direction will reduce global poverty. I have offered reasons for doubt. Since Christians care about the world’s poor, we must look for other solutions.

We are told repeatedly that there is no alternative to the present system. (Thomas Friedman, The Lexus and the Olive Tree. New York: Farrar, Straus, Giroux, 1999.) Globalization, it is said, is the product of technological progress, and one cannot turn the clock back on that. There is much truth in that statement. We all live on one planet, and technology has brought us much closer together. That is reality, and it holds great promise. But that there is no alternative to living closer together on this globe in no way means that there is no alternative to the present economic system of globalization.

The supporters of the present system want us to believe that the inevitability of globalization of some sort entails the inescapability of this system. As long as we believe them, Christians will have to make the best we can of a very bad deal, ministering to the system’s victims. But Christians do not believe in fate. This system is the result of planning and political decisions made in accordance with the Washington Consensus. I do not question the sincere belief of those who established this Consensus that it pointed the way toward universal prosperity. But those of us who believe that its assumptions are in error and its values misplaced have the right and duty to propose other goals that can also be approached through planning and political decisions. Christians are among those who have this responsibility.

I cannot be sure that the adoption of the policies I advocate would solve the problem of poverty. It may be that it is too late. In some parts of the world the consequences of economic globalization combined with the population explosion have already generated catastrophes of staggering dimensions. There are seemingly insoluble social and political problems, often exacerbated by these developments. The likelihood that the proposals I have made be adopted seems close to zero. It is easy to despair.

But as a Christian I cannot do that. I must live by hope. There have been wonderfully surprising historical changes in the past half-century that occurred with startling abruptness. One thinks of Vatican II, the ending of the Soviet Empire, and the transformation of South Africa. In all these, the Christian sees the working of God through responsive human beings.

Perhaps our own nation, which has led the world into the worship of wealth, will awaken to the idolatrous and self-destructive character of the ideology of economism. Perhaps the world’s people will recognize the impossibility of solving human problems with a growth whose costs often exceed its benefits even in strictly economic terms. Perhaps the economics profession will devote some of its enormous knowledge and profound insight to finding another way. Perhaps national leaders will have the will to implement a deeply different form of international life. None of this seems likely. But Christians can look to God in hope.

International and Transnational Trade

Trade among human communities has been a part of normal human life for tens of thousands of years. Coastal tribes traded with those in the mountains and desserts, each gaining prized goods they could not otherwise have enjoyed. Trade encouraged peaceful communication and interchange; it broadened the horizons of thought and imagination; it stimulated technological advances. In more recent times trade of this sort has continued, and it continues to contribute greatly to human welfare. Tropical fruits can be enjoyed by persons living in temperate climates while those living in the tropics can have foods that grow only in the temperate zone. When we think of trade in these terms, we can only favor it and oppose obstacles to its smooth functioning. The issue is not, then, whether there should be trade among people living in different places. There should. The issue is instead who should make the decisions regarding what is traded and with whom and under what circumstances.

Through most of history communities imported only those goods they could not acquire or produce locally. According to this norm each meets its own needs as far as possible, trading only for other goods. The opposite ideal is that each should import whatever can be produced more economically elsewhere.

Closely related to these two norms for trade is the question: Who should make the decisions: communities or individual trading units? If communities, they tend to the former ideal; if the trading units, to the latter.

Third, if communities play a role in decision-making, what are these communities? In traditional societies they moight be villages or towns; in the modern period, nation states.

Answers to these questions lead to two quite different models of trade. In one model, nations may be thought of as the units of trade. This is associated with support for domestic production even when goods could be imported more cheaply. Although it is rare that nation states, are the trading units, because they regulate trade according to their interests, we may speak of this system as "international trade".

The trading units in the past have been individual businesses, sometimes relatively small ones. Today, they are chiefly transnational corporations. Trade controlled by these corporations and not restricted or regulated by national governments should be called "transnational trade". Prior to World War II most trade that crossed national boundaries was international. Since World War II, and especially since 1980, the involvement of national governments in decisions about trade, has been reduced, turning these over to transnational coroporations. Today, trade is increasingly transnational.

The change has not occurred without argument. But the terms of the debate have tended to obscure the real issues. International trade has been called "protectionist", because governments often favor businesses within their own borders in relation to those outside. Protectionism has been seen as a form of favoritism. Transnational trade is called "free", because corporations are free from governmentally-imposed restrictions. People prefer "free" to "favoritism". The less loaded terms "international" and "transnational" allow a more open discussion.

Much of the support of each of comes from those businesses which benefit. Industries that can survive only with protection from external competition favor the former; those that profit from extending their activities across national boundaries support the latter. Christians will ask instead which kind of trade contributes most to the common good.

The dominant political and economic forces in the world today strongly favor transnational trade. They are supported, and largely motivated, in this by the implications of the economic principles now taught in our universities. Economists assume, quite reasonably, that a shared goal is prosperity. There is still much poverty in the world, and the global population continues to increase. A great deal of economic growth is required in order to increase prosperity and spread it more widely. The question economists ask, then, is how best to attain economic growth.

There have been two approaches to attaining growth. One has been through governmental planning and bureaucratic management. This is called socialism. The other is by leaving economic actors to make their own decisions. This is a market economy or capitalism. Market economies work much more efficiently than managed ones, and economists can show why resources are more efficiently used when free transactions set prices. What to produce, how much to produce, and at what price to sell are decisions to be left to the economic actors.

A second question is that of the size of the market. Economists have pointed out that the larger the market the more efficient production can be. If each town manufactures all of its own goods, many of its factories will be very small and cannot achieve "economies of scale". A single large factory can produce sufficient hats or belts or buttons to meet the needs of many towns. The cost per unit will be much less; so the consumers will get more goods at cheaper prices. Competition is important for the market to work; so it must be large enough to support a number of large factories competing with one another.

The larger market makes it possible to locate production where it is most economical, that is, most efficient. Once again, this lowers the cost of production, and prices to consumers are further reduced. This argues against governmental restrictions over the movement of capital investment and goods. Until recently, however, most nations believed it appropriate to regulate trade across their boundaries. But the argument for lareger markets counts against these restrictions.

Most Christians agree that transnational trade enables goods to be produced more efficiently and that this leads to overall economic growth. In principle, the increased production should make it more possible to meet the needs of the poor. Hence, most Christians have supported the transfer of decision-making power from national governments to transnational corporations.

There has been, however, accumulating evidence of negative effects of this shift of power. Despite the overall growth of the economy, it is not clear that the lot of the global poor is improving. The gap between the rich and poor nations and between the rich and the poor within most nations is growing. If, for Christians, the primary reason for desiring global economic growth is concern for the poor, this is reason enough for second thoughts about supporting the move to transnational trade.

The counterargument is that it is a mistake to concern ourselves with current distribution of income. If income is now concentrated in the hands of the rich, they will use their increased resources for new investments. These investments will generate more jobs. Increasing demand for workers will reduce unemployment and raise wages and wages. In the long run the gap between rich and poor will again decline. For the sake of all, therefore, it is important to stay the course.

Nevertheless, the case against "staying the course" is strong in the eyes of many of those who observe close up the consequences of the present policies. In their view, the problem is not simply that the poor are growing relatively worse off. The problem is that they are often displaced from traditional homes and are becoming less and less able to meet their own needs. The trade policies adopted for global economic growth increase their misery. Millions who were once able to subsist from their plots of land and surrounding forests have now been forced to depend on wage labor which is in little demand.

Furthermore, the reasoning through which advocates of the now dominant policies call for staying the course is not beyond criticism. This reasoning assumes that increasing investment will generate sufficient new employment so as to raise wages globally. This is contrary to actual present trends and seems unlikely in the foreseeable future. Not only is there already a huge pool of unemployed labor throughout the world that is continuing to grow because of the population explosion, but also transnational trade has the immediate effect of reducing the need for workers. Imported goods destroy existing industries. More efficient agricultural production undercuts subsistence farming. Shopping malls put millions of small retailers out of business. And ever intensifying competition leads to "downsizing".

If the global economy doubles in size several times, and if population growth is restricted, the optimistic expectations of the believers in the present system may still eventually be fulfilled. But can the global economy grow tp this extemt?

This is not an economic question. Economists develop their models on the assumption that the condition of the physical world is not important. It is physical scientists looking at what economic growth has already done to the planet who raise this question. Many of them doubt the availability of the resources necessary for continued economic growth. More urgently, they point out that the environment cannot cope with the pollution already inflicted upon it. Global warming is only one form, but the costs it alone inflicts on the future are horrendous.

Supporters of growth argue that with this growth comes technological progress and that this generates the needed resources and means of keeping pollution within acceptable limits. They point to great improvements possible in the efficiency with which resources are used and recycled. They show that when societies attain a certain level of prosperity they devote increasing economic resources to the improvement of the environment. The ability of our children to deal with the consequences of global warming will depend, they argue, on the economic resources available to them. Therefore, rather than slow economic growth, we should do all we can to accelerate it.

Christians as Christians are not especially well equipped to judge the merits of such arguments. Predictions of the future based on projections from past experience are notoriously unreliable. This recognition may lead to placing priority on meeting the current needs, and hence of opposing those policies that now worsen the condition of the poor and of the environment. But those who are theoretically convinced by these arguments continue to regard this as sentimental and counterproductive.

Christians as Christians are better equipped to consider how economic gains are to be valued in relation to other gains and losses. For example, it can hardly be doubted that economic growth requires destruction of traditional communities. This can be seen in rural America and in many parts of the Third World.

Christians recognize limitations to traditional communities. Christianity arose as a new voluntary community set overagainst communities of kinship and custom. If the destruction of traditional communities were accompanied by the rise of new communities that met basic human needs for relationship and promised heightened personal participation, this might be regarded as a gain. But in hundreds of millions of cases this has not happened. The slums in cities in this country and those surrounding Third World cities result from economic "progress".

Another loss that accompanies the enlargement of markets generally is the reduced ability of people in local communities to manage their own affairs. When the economy of the community is controlled by persons who have no stake in the community, there are few major matters still subject to its own control. The transfer of power to larger political units is the inevitable consequence. But this is accompanied by a feeling of alienation.

Some now call for a return of power from federal to state and local levels, but unless this includes power over the local economy and the movement of people into or out of the community, it cannot amount to much. For example, if governmental aid to the poor is determined at the state level, generous states will attract poor from other states and bankrupt themselves.

Similarly, if states undertake to improve working conditions in their factories and to apply stringent pollution controls, it will prove "economic" for factories to move to neighboring states that entice them with the promise of a more favorable "business climate". In short, the pressure inherent in this one-sided decentralization is to lower standards.

The problem becomes more critical when international trade gives way to transnational trade. The market now extends beyond all political boundaries. Concerns for workplace standards and pollution cannot be expressed in legislation in one country without functioning to encourage factories to move across borders in order to escape the costs entailed.

Whenever markets extend across political boundaries, the political units defined by these boundaries are under pressure to compete for investments. This competition inevitably consists in part of relaxation of standards that impose costs on local production. Transnational trade exacerbates this problem because no larger political entity can establish minimal conditions.

Although, viewed globally, supporters of transnational trade can argu that eventually workers will benefit from increased production, workers in high-wage countries have no assurance that their situation will be improved in the foreseeable future. On the contrary, there is an inevitable tendency toward equalization of wages within a free market. Many of the industries that once paid high wages to blue collar workers have moved to countries where much lower wages are accepted. Most of these workers have had to take jobs that pay less. Other workers have accepted reduced wages in order to keep their employers from moving. This process continues. U.S. wages have fallen steadily over the past twenty years, and there is no foreseeable end to this decline.

The consequences of transnational trade are more dramatic in what we have called the Third World. Many Third World countries made consierable economic progress during the fifties and sixties in the context of international trade. They defined national economic goals and encouraged trade that supported these goals. International institutions such as the World Bank and International Monetary Fund accepted these policies.

During the seventies, partly because of OPEC's success in raising the price of oil, these nations became heavily indebted, and by the eighties, many were no longer able to make payments on their debts without assistance. The price of this assistance was in part their move from international trade to transnational trade. They have been required to open their economies to transnational corporations without restriction and to allow these corporations to become the major economic actors. With the conclusion of the Uruguay Round of the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade and the new World Trade Organization, they can no longer protect their financial and service institutions from competition with transnational corporations. In short, they have been forced to give up control of their own economies.

The takeover of the economies of Third World countries by transnational corporations has been for the sake of economic growth. In some cases it has contributed to that goal. However, it does not always do so. That it should do so is a principle still widely taught in economics textbooks under the heading of "comparative advantage". But this principle assumed that trade would be international rather than transnational. It does not apply in the current situation.

Another confused argument is often offered for the move to transnational trade. This appeals to the impressive success of several Asian economies, especially, Japan, South Korea, Hong Kong, and Singapore. The argument is strong when it shows that market economies are able to grow faster than bureaucratically-managed ones. But it is misplaced when it is used to argue for transnational rather than international trade. All of these countries exercised firm control over their own borders during the period of their transition to prosperity.

The Christian's decision about these two models of trade will hinge largely on judgments of the value and importance of maximum global economic growth. The chief argument for transnational trade is that it is the means of attaining this maximal growth. Arguments favoring international trade are based on valuing community, emphasizing immediate improvement of the lot of the poor, avoiding extreme gaps of income internal to nations, and retaining the ability of people through political processes to have a say in determining what happens to them. Many believe that economic growth should be sought only as it contributes to meeting basic human needs.

There is a second level of concern about the current global commitment to growth that expresses itself in imposing the system of transnational trade on all. No one officially claims that economic growth as now measured is necessarily an improvement in the economic wellbeing of individuals. Nevertheless, the global system is geared to maximizing this growth as if it were supportive of such wellbeing. Hence the question of better measures of true growth is coming increasingly to the fore.

At this point Christians should participate vigorously. When economic measures cease to deal only with the price of goods and services exchanged in the market and begin to consider other matters, then questions of human value enter in. If the measure we need is one that includes economic goals generally, then it should include questions of distribution. Most Christians agree that adding a thousand dollars of income to a poor family improves the economic wellbeing of a nation more than adding it to a rich family that. Most Christians also believe that reducing the time spent in caring for one's children in order to earn money outside the home should not be counted as pure gain.

Furthermore, most Christians are concerned for future generations. Our present system is based on the assumption that current growth contributes to future wellbeing. But when current growth leads to growing ozone holes, progressive global warming, the exhaustion of soils, and the disappearance of wetlands and fisheries, costs are being imposed on the future. How should these be counted in evaluating economic performance?

A San Francisco organization, Redefining Progress, has produced a Genuine Progress Indicator for the United States. This takes into account the issues mentioned. The results show that during the past twenty years economic growth as measured by current indicators, especially Gross Domestic Product per capita, has been accompanied by decline in real economic wellbeing. This suggests that Christians should not automatically support policies whose chief advantage is that they promote growth in Gross Domestic Product or Gross World Product.

Christians are increasingly viewing these questions still more broadly. The World Council of Churches encourages us to think in terms of "the integrity of creation". We must then ask whether the move from international trade to transnational trade promotes the integrity of creation. It can be argued that by promoting efficiency in the use of resources it does so. But it can also be argued that by taking away the power of local people to protect their environments and encouraging the export of natural resources, it works against this.

My own conclusion is that we should withdraw support from the move toward transnational trade and seek to strengthen the ability of nations, especially in the Third World, to control their own affairs. In short, what Christians value can be attained better when national governments, more or less representative of their people, make decisions about trade. Many will do so unwisely, but those who suffer from their errors have some possibility of influencing them and making changes.

One reason for supporting international trade versus transnational trade is the conviction that economic actors should operate within parameters that are set by democratic means. When freed from responsibility to governments, they are responsible only to their stokholders who, qua stockholders, are interested in profits rather than in the general good. This goal could also be reached by forming a democratically controlled transnational political unit. The present World Trade Organization is not such a unit. Its membership and procedures are shielded from the influence of concerns other than the promotion of trade.

But it is not impossible that the WTO could be made much more responsible to the global public. It might be transformed, for example, into an agency of the General Assembly of the United Nations. Nongovernmental Organizations might be given the right to participate in its decisions. It might direct trade to the common good as understood by the people of the world.

Such a move would take us a long way toward global government. This is, for many Christians, a worthy goal. And, indeed, few would deny that, as so many of our problems become global in scope, increased power in the hands of global agencies is essential. Working out a way in which these global agencies become responsible to the people of the world is a task of enormous importance and difficulty.

My hope is that along with strengthening and democratizing global institutions, we also return as much power as possible to political units that are closer to ordinary people and in which they can feel some participation. This is the Christian principle of subsidiarity. Christians could make a contribution by leading in reflection about what kinds of political and economic power should be exercised at what levels. In that context, questions about trade could receive appropriate answers.

The Greening of Theology

"The greening of theology" is itself an attractively "green" phrase. It means something to all of us, and there will be a family resemblance among these meanings. Beyond that it leaves us with a lot of freedom to give it what meaning we want.

I traced in my panel with Tom Regan what might be called the "greening of the WCC." But one might ask, at what point was it greened? Was it enough that it said human societies should be sustainable? Or was it green only when it spoke of the integrity of creation. Or is it not yet green when it refuses to discuss animals and how we should relate to them?

I think it is better not to identify the greening of theology only with particular positions taken. The question is also whether a green sensibility affects the whole. In this sense the Vancouver assembly was not as green as the Nairobi one, even though there was an advance in doctrine.

Since I have shifted to a green sensibility, I need to say what I mean by that. I mean a sense of embeddedness in the entirety of the world and especially a sense of relatedness to living things. Today a green sensibility can hardly be dissociated from keen concern about the decay of the biosphere. But that is not built into the meaning of the term. In earlier days there was a green sensibility without this concern, and today there can be great anxiety about calamities that await us without any green sensibility.

Most of us urban Westerners, especially us males, have little of the green sensibility. Certainly this was true in my case, and my condition has changed only partially. This lack of sensibility showed itself in the fact that although the teacher from whom I learned Whitehead, Charles Hartshorne, did have green sensibility, and although this affected his lectures, I paid very little attention to this aspect of what he said. Further, when I wrote A Christian Natural Theology, although all the materials for expressing a green sensibility were there, nothing came through. The lack shows up again in that even after I had been awakened to the environmental crisis, as I pursued my writings in anthropology and Christology, the natural world was hardly present. In short, when I dealt with issues other than the condition of nature, the sense of being part of that nature, whatever my explicit doctrines, had little affect on what I said.

Nevertheless, I was not completely lacking in a green sensibility. When I finally exposed myself to the literature that dealt with the ecological crisis, its emotional impact did not have to do only with my concern for the future of human beings. Even more intense was a sense of participating in the dying of the trees and the birds. I had not realized how much I loved the woods until I began to notice that they were in decline, realizing that each time I came to them they had died a little. I felt that dying as my dying too. And I have realized that ever since there is a kind of innocent happiness that has become impossible for me, that could be possible again only if I supposed that the dying of the biosphere had been reversed. There is a deep level of my being at which I feel my oneness with the whole system of living things.

I am very sure that those feelings have played a role in my persistent return to the topic of what we industrialized Westerners are doing to our planet. But my male, academic conditioning has kept these feelings at the extreme periphery of my writing and even of my awareness. Only a paragraph here and there expresses them with any force. And this omission is not even a conscious choice to keep the argument on a rational plane. It is the habit that shapes character. And it is that character that limits the greening of my theology.

There is a place for the greening of theology that is the correcting of long-held wrong doctrines, the call for changes in action, and reflection on all sorts of issues in light of the crisis we face. Greening in that sense can have desirable results and even affect the sensibility as well. I am proud of what I have contributed to this kind of greening of theology.

As might be expected, the greening of theology has proceeded somewhat further in some feminist theological writing. I think especially of Elizabeth Dodson-Gray and to a lesser extent of Sallie McFague. But for theological argument that is at the same time truly green, I choose Jay McDaniel. His two recent books, On God and Pelicans and Earth, Sky, Gods and Mortals unite green sensibility with green thought in a way that constitutes a fine model for the future.

Much of the best writing is outside the boundaries of theology but yet pervaded by religious feeling. Loren Eisely is perhaps the best known writer. He not only expresses a green sensitivity but he evokes it in his readers through both his style and content. The writings of Lewis Thomas, such as The Lives of a Cell, accomplish something of the same thing in a quite differnt style. Annie Dillard and Doris McClintock make similar contributions.

The dominant positive sensibility encouraged by Christianity has focused on interpersonal relations -- real respect for each person in her or his uniqueness. That sensibility, almost unconsciously, pervades most theological writing. One reason for resistance to the greening of theology is a fear that this deep-seated humanism will be weakened. If that happened, it would not be a true greening. For us as Christians to feel our deep connectedness with all living things cannot mean that we reduce our respect for other human beings or lose our sense of kinship with them. This is not a zero sum game. When we really allow ourselves to feel the relations that constitute our being, we will be closer both to other people and to the rest of the living world. This comes to expression in all the theologians I have mentioned.

But when we look at matters in terms of these few examples, we see how far we have to go for a true greening of theology. If one visits the sessions of the American Academy of Religion, with the exception of one or two explicitly devoted to ecological concerns, the very topic of the natural world rarely appears. Indeed many of the discussions proceed as if the physical world did not exist at all. Even in the feminist sessions, the green sensibility is sometimes hard to discern. The greening of the academy lies far in the future.

Similarly, if we examine the curricula of our seminaries, we find this discussion still at the extreme periphery in most cases. A few sessions in a course on Christian ethics or the inclusion of an eco-feminist book in a course on women and religion would be typical examples. There is also the chance that the professor of Old Testament will deal with the critique of that document for its anthropocentricity. A course on the ecumenical movement may discuss the positions the WCC has taken on green issues. Even this is progress from where we were fifteen years ago, but, for the most part, green concerns remain extra-curricula.

If we turn to the local church, the situation varies. Here and there are congregations that have been somewhat greened. But we know that is rare. An occasional mention in a sermon or an occasional lesson in an adult class may be hoped for, but little more. Sometimes, on the other hand, in working with the smaller children attention is given to living things and the wonder of them. It seems we are expected to outgrow this and go on to more important matters.

At the denominational level there has been more progress. Under the leadership of Jitsuo Morikawa in the seventies the American Baptists dealt with Christian responsibility for the natural world with great seriousness and remarkable depth and wisdom. Recently the Presbyterians have adopted a fine report from its eco-justice task force on Keeping and Healing the Creation. The Unitarian-Universalists have adopted a remarkably green plank in their short creed. Indeed, most of the denominations are moving in the right direction. The greening of the denominations, like that of the World Council of Churches is in advance of the greening of the academy.

Indeed, the academy is peculiarly resistant. Greening involves seeing things in their interconnectedness. The academy is structured around the division of subject matters and into departments. Greening involves a sense of relatedness or unity that is deeply subjective and then also implies kinship in what is felt. The methodology of the academy involves the strict control, if not the elimination, of the student's feelings and the neglect or denial of the feelings of what is studied, whether that is human or not human.

As long as theology is a university discipline seeking respectability in that context, it is hard to see how it can be greened very far. Further progress will require either that it reduce its connectedness to the university or give leadership to the reform of the university. Instead of using its connection to the university to claim freedom from the church, it will need to use its connection with the church to critique the university and encourage reforms.

Keller knows that this has become a favorite theme of mine, and she has herself written brilliantly about the university. Neither of us has discussed the topic before under the rubric of greening, but much of what we have said fits under this heading. Rather than repeat my criticisms and proposals for university reform, I will focus on how the greening of theology would in itself contribute to university reform.

The first step in the greening of theology would be to orient research, whether in term papers, dissertations, or books and articles to the needs of the world. This would break with the role of theology as a discipline, where research is either a way of entering more fully into the discipline or advancing its reflection based on its history and current needs. In short it is a shift from allowing the discipline to determine the direction of research to allowing the needs of the world to do so.

This would be a shift from academic norms to Christian ones, and it is in this sense that I spoke of appealing to the church for leverage against the university. It would not mean that the work we did was less intellectually demanding. On the contrary, it would be more so. It would mean that the direction of study and research would be changed.

It is my belief that we already have more freedom as theologians to do this kind of work, and to encourage it in our students, that we utilize. I can testify to having found a great deal of elbow room myself. I have not only been able to write books on what I wanted, I have also been able to encourage students to select dissertation topics according to their deepest interests and concerns. Sometimes these expressed their place on a personal journey rather than their judgment of the needs of the world, but these are usually not too far apart.

I am arguing that we in theology are unusually free to make this move. First, the understanding of what constitutes theology even among ourselves is quite fluid. Nothing that we do will satisfy all our colleagues, but we can get ourselves excommunicated only if we go to outrageous lengths. Encouraging our students to tackle real problems will not put us beyond the pale. Secondly, our colleagues in other fields are more or less mystified by what we do and do not really expect it to conform to their patterns. Our dealing with real questions, that they too recognize as important, and encouraging our students to do so will heighten their interest rather than reduce it. The restriction lies not, in most cases, in departmental rules or real peer pressure. It lies in our internalization of university norms and habits of mind as they operate in the more secure and established disciplines. It is our desire to show that we are just as academic as the others that inhibits us.

Not every dissertation in order to be green must explicitly discuss the natural world. But if we understand the real problems of the real world in any depth, we will see that specifically human problems are not really separable from the larger reality in which human beings are embedded. Similarly, human ways of responding to other human beings are not disconnected from beliefs and attitudes about the natural world. Where that awareness is present, the work will be green.

The greening of theology as a challenge to the university does not require only that the direction of research be based on judgments about the needs of the world, it requires also that once a problem is identified, the question of how it is studied is not restricted by disciplinary boundaries. If it is a real need that we address, then our task is to employ whatever resources are most helpful in doing so. It is simply not the case that real problems can be dealt with effectively from within any one discipline. Only problems defined by the discipline or highly abstract expressions of real problems can be dealt with in that way.

Theologians have great advantages in this respect. Real problems involve questions of value. That is true almost by definition. Unless there is some question about how we should respond to a need, or, at the very least, how we should think about it, there is no real world problem. Theologians do not pretend to be engaged in value-free inquiry as do the practitioners of academic disciplines in general. A second advantage is the reverse side of an obvious weakness. It is very unlikely that much of the knowledge and informtion needed in order to deal with the problem can be derived from within the academic discipline of theology. We will go elsewhere for that, but in most cases not to just one discipline. We will ask for help in all kinds of ways. In the process we will involve other scholars in solving our problem. This is not likely to offend them; it is more likely to generate interest.

Third, we can try to attend to our own feelings, and can encourage students to attend to theirs. This is already involved in asking ourselves and them the question of what seems truly important as a basis for selecting topics for study. It is surprising how difficult that is for some students, or perhaps it is not so surprising, since they have been socialized into academia. They must also make their own judgments about how best to approach the topic, and that involves close attention to their own intuitions. It is another step from that, a large one, certainly, to becoming aware of the feelings of connectedness that contribute to the sense of importance of some topics and can guide the approach to the solution. The green sensibility, to whatever extent it is present, will lead to using information from other disciplines with a difference, working back from the abstracted data to the feelings that lie behind it.

One example of a dissertation that fits the pattern I am describing is that of Catherine Keller.

I am proposing that in doing all this, the theologian is true to her task or his. I am also proposing that to pursue such a task will be subversive of what is destructive and wrongly restrictive in the university. It will show the possiblity of giving thinking a place it is denied in the disciplines. It will show that such thinking can be directed toward real problems in the real world, rather than merely academic ones. It will build bridges among disciplines. And it will show that deep feeling and real understanding can contribute to constructive thought. It will inspire envy, perhaps even rebellion.

Today the greatest restriction on theologians is there desire to do work that is recognized as appropriate by the standards of the university. I am proposing that the greatest liberation of the university may come when its faculties demand the freedom to do the kind of important and creative work done by theologians. This is a mad dream, I know, but it is my dream nevertheless.

Economic Aspects of Social and Environmental Violence

I

When we think of violence, what first comes to mind are violent acts by individuals or groups against individuals. We think of rapes and murders, lynchings and muggings, beatings and armed robberies. We want the police to protect us from this violence. Unfortunately, we know that police are tempted, in turn, to employ their power in violent ways, chiefly against those guilty of crimes, but sometimes against the innocent. The cycle of violence on the part of individuals and groups goes on.

Bad as this violence is, it is worse when the state, instead of restricting it, supports and requires it. Political authorities have always exercised violence against their own people, especially those they suspected of being threats to their power. But in the twentieth century, state violence reached previously unheard of levels. For the sake of building a communist society, Stalin killed millions and imprisoned millions more. The Nazis undertook to purify Germany of Jews, gypsies, and other undesirables through extermination undertaken through bureaucratic processes.

We Americans do not think of ourselves as having employed state power in any such way. We know that national power was used violently to drive Native Americans off their land down through the nineteenth century. We know that southern states used their power to enforce segregation and protect whites who engaged in violent acts against blacks in order to maintain total white domination over them. But we now think of the national government much more as the protector of human rights. This is not entirely false,

We tend not to recognize, however, the amount of violence the national government is exercising in the war against crime and the war against drugs. In order to reduce individual violence as well as drug use, we have created a prison population of two million. One fourth of all the prisoners in the world are in the United States, most of them jailed for non-violent crimes. Although drug use is more or less equally spread among ethnic and economic groups, most of those imprisoned for this crime are poor and ethnic minorities. In the name of law and order, enormous violence is inflicted by the United States against its ghettoized people.

In this same century war also took on new dimensions. It has been waged against entire populations instead of armies. The aim at total destruction came to its fullest expression when the United States twice dropped atomic bombs on Japan.

World War II has conscientized all of us about the horrors of state violence. It has turned us against nationalism. We are appalled as we see nationalism raise its ugly head again in the former Soviet Union and especially in the former Yugoslavia. When ethnic groups undertake to destroy each other, our moral condemnation is unambiguous. Personal, group, and state violence remains a problem, but at least the wrong involved in this is widely understood.

In all civilization there has been another kind of violence -- economic. In much of history it has been closely related to the forms noted above. The rich have been able to impose their will on the poor because they could employ persons to exercise violence for them and they could influence state action. We see this glaringly in the goon squads employed by the wealthy in some Latin American countries to intimidate and kill those who protest their actions. These goon squads often work closely with the military power of the state.

We know that in this country as well, wealth reduces the chance of conviction for crimes. It also buys influence in government. On the whole the United States government throughout history has supported the interests of those with money. Today the power of wealth in the political process is glaringly evident. We recognize that this situation is corrupt, but we do not ordinarily think of it as a form of violence. This is because the violent consequences are indirect, and we are not accustomed to tracing these connections.

Furthermore, many of the policies that have violent consequences are enacted by conscientious people. They promote these policies because the best scholars recommend them. Usually we think of violence as done by vicious people. It is my thesis that throughout history, but especially today, most violence is done by righteous people. This is especially true of economic violence.

The general point that virtue is no insurance against committing violence points to the importance of beliefs. In the Middle Ages, the motivations for the Crusades were undoubtedly mixed, but without the deep conviction of conscientious Christians that they should rescue the Holy Land from the infidel, they would not have occurred. Even the torture of heretics grew out of conscientiously held beliefs. In the modern world, the horrors mentioned above were often committed by Communists and Nazis who were true believers. If nations could not count on the deep loyalty of their citizens, the great wars of recent centuries could not have been fought.

II

After World War II, nationalism faded in the North Atlantic region. It has been replaced by what I call "economism." Economism is that organization of society that is intentionally in the service of economic growth. All other values, including national sovereignty, are subordinated to this end, with the sincere expectation that sufficient prosperity will enable the world to meet its non-economic needs as well.

The ideology of today’s economism is neo-liberal economics. This does not mean that every neo-liberal economist favors economism. An economist may affirm that the task of economists is to describe the economic order, and that of politicians, to balance economic concerns with others. The decision for economism has been a political one to the effect that the economic order is the most important, not a decision by economists. Nevertheless, understandably, many economists have enjoyed their new status as high priests and theologians of the new order. In general they can be counted on for support.

The global market toward which neo-liberal economic ideology directs us is also strongly favored by the dominant economic players. There is thus a coincidence of the self-interest of those with greatest wealth and the implications of the theories of those who study the economy most dispassionately. This has displaced the coincidence between national governments and those who wrote the histories and songs that celebrated the glory of nations.

How, then, does economism cause social and environmental violence? It does so by creating a society oriented to the increase of economic activity through the market. In the working of the market, there is a tendency to concentrate wealth, since the possession of wealth gives one the advantage. Furthermore, there are economies of scale, which mean that the greater the wealth concentrated in one organization, the easier for it to function well in the market. Accordingly, great wealth is achieved by the absorption or destruction of innumerable small players.

This is particularly dramatic in Third World countries. The products of industrialized countries displace local production, putting the native artisans out of work. Local industries cannot compete with transnational corporations without the governmental support that the economic theory forbids. Indigenous banks and insurance agencies are put out of business as well or bought up by transnational ones. This is one form of violence promoted by the system recommended by neoliberal economics.

The disruption of traditional society is a necessary condition for the emergence of an economistic society. Such a society depends on the willingness of large numbers of people to undertake tedious and unrewarding work at low pay and in very poor conditions. Few members of well-functioning traditional societies are willing to exchange their lives for this kind of labor. But when the presence of the products of industrial societies undercuts the livelihood of traditional workers, they have no choice.

This operates on an especially large scale in agriculture, since most people in traditional societies are farmers. In these societies subsistence agriculture is primary. Of course, farmers also produce food for the village market where they exchange their products for goods produced by others. Such farmers have very little money, but most of the time they can feed and clothe their families and enjoy a respected place in their communities.

Of course, in many traditional societies, peasants worked for landlords who took their entire surplus and kept them near the survival level. In Mexico, these peasants revolted from time to time, sometimes successfully. Unfortunately, the landlord class usually reestablished itself before long. After one such revolution much of the land was divided up among the peasants, and to prevent its re-concentration in the hands of the few, the government passed laws forbidding its sale. This led to the continuation of a society of peasants each with a small farm. A decade ago some ten million Mexicans lived on such farms.

Mexican leaders saw this as an obstacle to economic development. This form of agriculture is labor intensive and it produces little surplus for export. It adds little to the Gross National Product of the nation. Economic progress requires that labor be made more productive by the introduction of machines and chemicals. This requires much larger farms.

One main function of NAFTA was to facilitate this change in Mexican agriculture. Since the land in question was fertile and productive, and since Mexican labor was cheap and governmental restrictions few, U.S. agribusiness was interested in moving in. But first the peasants must be persuaded to sell their land.

The first step was to change the law, giving the peasants the legal right to sell. The second step was to undercut the peasant economy. This was accomplished by reducing tariffs on the importing of competing crops from the U.S. These were cheaper because of agribusiness methods of production that do not count the cost of lost soil, contribution to global warming, the exhaustion of aquifers, or the pollution of waterways.

The economic policies that drive millions of people off their land and out of their traditional villages are violent ones. They are analogous to the enclosure movement that drove peasants off their land in the eighteenth century. They produce a large pool of unemployed people desperate for work. These will accept almost any pay and conditions.

III

This opens up the possibility of another form of violence -- sweatshops. Technically, in this country at least, sweatshops are defined in terms of their violation of laws. They are manufacturing establishments that fail to comply with health and safety standards and/or pay less than the minimum wage and/or require laborers to work overtime without the required recompense.

Such establishments had largely disappeared in this country, although agricultural labor practices often had a similar character. But with the move from national economies to the global one, sweatshops have returned on a large scale. The largest industry in Los Angeles is garment manufacturing, and most of this is done in sweatshops. Only very recently have objections led to steps to correct this. In the global economy, efforts to correct it in Los Angeles will probably lead to more manufacturers moving across the border to Mexico.

Production in Third World countries does not always violate laws, since there may be few laws to violate. Once their traditional economies are destroyed, these countries are forced, in the global economy, to compete with one another to attract capital investment. They do so by keeping wages low and leaving conditions of work for manufacturers to determine. This brings about the "race to the bottom." The result is often something approximating slave labor. Since employers often favor young women, it is these on whom much of the violence is inflicted.

Indeed, in some respects conditions of today’s workers are sometimes worse than those of slaves. Slaves represented a substantial capital investment, and owners benefited from keeping slaves in condition to work for decades. In contexts where there is an almost unlimited supply of workers, employers can wear them out and discard them. They have no investment in their health or well-being. It is cheaper to replace them than to care for them.

The destruction of the traditional economy leads to other acts of desperation. Many peasants, in order to survive, sell their daughters into prostitution. Prostitution has been a part of traditional as well as modern societies, but it is now operating in some "developing" countries on an entirely new scale. Sex tourism is now a major industry.

Supporters of economism may share in deploring these widespread incidents of violence. They may undertake to moderate them in various ways. But they believe that the gains that come from following economistic policies outweigh the losses and will eventually bring benefits even to those who are now suffering. They tend to depict the conditions of people in traditional societies as extremely miserable, so that the changes that strike me as profound violations of their humanity are viewed as progress, however minimal. They point out that millions of young women are competing for employment in the new sweatshops, and they argue that this means that however bad, their work there is preferred to the alternatives. They treat the alternatives as the product of the traditional society that I have described more positively, rather than as the result of the destruction of the traditional economy by modernity. Since the coming of the sweatshops raises the national GNP, they believe that in due course all will be more prosperous. Hence the violence is temporary, the long run gains will be permanent.

There are many reasons for disputing this perception. The most obvious is environmental. The expansion of production that is central to the economistic program overall adds to the violence done to the environment. It speeds up the exhaustion of resources and the pollution of the environment. It leads to the extinction of species especially by destruction of their habitat. This violence is enormous.

Those who believe that the present violence against peasants and workers is temporary, and that the eventual rewards will make it all worthwhile, suppose that economic growth can continue indefinitely. In their view, eventually goods will be so plentiful and so cheap that all will enjoy them. There will be no misery based on economic want.

Unfortunately for this scenario, our economy is already unsustainable. We can show this in many ways, but because the worst consequences of our current activities lie still some distance in the future, they are easy to ignore. Many live by a faith that technology will solve those future problems when the time comes. Others have little hope but see no alternative but to do what one is expected to do now. Complacency and despair both support continuation of present patterns.

There are parts of the world where the future is already upon us. Many of the most polluted of the world’s cities are in newly industrializing parts of China. There the environmental cost of "development" is immediate. Pollution of the air is so serious that it adds immediately to the cost of healthcare. There have been cities where this added cost exceeded the income from factories, and some of the latter have been closed accordingly.

It is too bad that we cannot act to protect our Earth before the cost of not doing so becomes so immediate and pressing! The fact that it is our children who will pay for much of what we are doing should be sufficient to move us. Indeed, the plight of indigenous peoples and of the nonhuman species with whom we share the planet should touch our consciences as too high a price for us to be paying even in terms of immediate consequences.

IV

Probably today the major obstacle to change is the enormous power of those who profit from the present situation. But that power rests to a considerable extent on the support of the dominant economic theory. Many people of goodwill would resist the take-over of the world by transnational corporations if they were not assured by those they regard as experts that this process is the one route to a good future for all. These experts sincerely believe what they tell us, since the theory they have studied and teach affirms this. Belief systems are immensely important. We see what our systems of belief lead us to see. The rest is anomalous and largely invisible.

For this reason it is important to understand neo-liberal economic theory. I do not mean that we need to study the complex mathematics in which it usually expresses itself. What we need to grasp is much more readily accessible to us in any standard introduction. What is important can be formulated most easily in terms of the values that are omitted. It is predictable that what is not considered in the theory will not be considered in evaluating the outcome of the theory in practice.

No theory in any field is comprehensive. The study of any one set of features of the world or society will concentrate on those concepts most useful for understanding just those features. Hence it is not a serious criticism of economic theory to note that it does not deal with cultural or religious or ethical values. From one point of view it does deal with them in the sense that it considers in an abstract way everything people care enough about to spend money to procure. But it does not value Shakespeare more highly than pornography. Indeed, if the public spends more on pornography than on Shakespeare, then pornography is a greater value as measured by economists. If people happen to be generous or philanthropic, economic theory accepts their expenditure of funds alongside others. But there is nothing in the theory that encourages such generosity. Indeed there are indications that those most formed by the theory are less likely to see reasons for giving to others than are those less influenced by it. The rational behavior encouraged by the theory is not other-regarding.

Points of this kind could be elaborated at length, but I will not do so here. I do believe that the dominance of economistic thinking reduces our tendency to encourage the improvement of taste and our generosity toward one another. But I do not insist on these judgments. There is no necessary connection between the theory and this kind of practice. But there are some omissions that have a dramatic and direct effect upon how an economistic world functions. I will consider three: fairness, community, and nature.

V

Fairness or justice is a concept that is central to political theory. As long as society is governed by political considerations, with economists simply making one contribution alongside others, the absence of this concept in economics was not of major importance. But we are considering here what happens when the relation of the economic and the political orders is reversed, when the political order redefines itself as in the service of the economic one. Then the absence of justice in the thinking of the now dominant ideology may be expected to have immense consequences for society as a whole.

My point is not the obvious one that economic theory does not discuss justice or fairness in the political, legal, social, or educational spheres. That could hardly be expected. The point is that it does not consider fairness or justice in the economic sphere either. Hence, there is no belief or commitment that can check the concentration of power in fewer and fewer hands and the abuse of that power in violence against the weak. There is nothing in the theory to direct our attention to the consequences of economic growth for the poor or to favor a more equitable distribution of the world’s goods. That the rich grow richer without benefiting the poor is acceptable so far as the theory is concerned. It is also accepted in practice in our world.

This by no means implies the absence of economists whose humanitarian and political commitments lead them to be concerned about the distribution of wealth. Many have made studies of distribution, and their personal values are often quite clear. But these concerns fall outside the theory. The theory treats this matter chiefly under the heading of Pareto optimality, and this treatment makes clear that distribution is not the economist’s concern as economist.

Pareto optimality begins by pointing out that none of us are in position to judge the inner states of others. We assume that in general people prefer to have goods and services, and that the more money they have the better off they are. But we cannot say that additional income to one person adds more value than additional income to another. That could be judged only by one who could share the subjective experience of both. Since no such sharing is possible, economists must eschew any valuation other than that of favoring an increase in overall well-being as measured by overall income.

To put this more concretely, the principle of Pareto optimality tells us that we cannot judge whether the addition of $1000 to the income of a family now receiving $10,000 annually is better than the same addition to a family now receiving $100,000 a year. As long as someone benefits and noone loses, there is improvement. Such improvement is the goal of economic policy.

I trust that you understand the importance of this doctrine for a world governed by economic theory. Suppose economists had moved in a different direction, as they might have. Very important to economists is the understanding that the fifteenth sweater or a fifth ice-cream cone is not as valuable to a consumer as the first. Particular wants are satiated, so that once we have enough of one commodity, we prize something else more. They might have concluded that for rational beings something like this applied overall, that the eleventh thousand dollars, needed to supply food, clothing, and shelter for a family, is of greater value than the hundred-and-first-thousand, which would barely be noticed. But economists chose instead to argue for overall insatiability of wants with no possibility of judging among them.

If economic theory had taken the other direction, then in an economistic world there would be concern for the meeting of basic needs of all before adding to the wealth of the few. Policies directed to that end would be very different from those that we have in fact adopted. It is not economism as such, but the particular theories that govern our economistic world, that make us largely indifferent to the vast and ever-growing disparity in the distribution of the world’s goods. There is here, violence against the poor.

I did note that Pareto optimality opposes the enrichment of one group at the expense of another. It requires that no group be harmed. Harm is measured by loss of purchasing power. No other forms of harm count. It is important to those who support the current global market, therefore, to argue that although the poor have not benefited proportionately from the global market, they have benefited a little as measured by per capita income, or, at least, they have not lost. Figures are very difficult to obtain. Much of the claimed gain comes about in the shift from self-sustaining peasant life to dependence on the market, and many are skeptical that the small gains in income mean that those involved are better fed, better clothed, or better housed than before. I share that skepticism. And if we compare the condition of the poor in urban slums with that of the poor on subsistence farms, my own judgment is that there is more loss than gain.

My point here is to illustrate the importance of theory. Since the theory says we should not support policies that worsen the economic condition of the poor for the sake of further enriching the rich, it is important for those operating by the theory to argue that the poor have not been damaged in the process. On the other hand, that they obviously have not benefited much is not important. The growing gap between rich and poor is not a matter of concern.

VI

Let us turn to the second of the three missing concepts that I am highlighting: community. The idea of community is that relationships with other people are important to who we are. Our well-being is affected positively by the well-being of others with whom we are in community. The family is the extreme instance of community. But the same principles apply to relations with neighbors, and in traditional communities, to the whole village. The smooth functioning of the community is important to the well-being of all its members.

Economic theory has no place for this. It is markedly and avowedly individualistic. Homo economicus is an individual human being who rationally seeks to gain as many goods as possible for as little labor as possible. His or her relations with other people are competitive. Sometimes it is recognized that the economic actors are households, so that economists do not attribute to relations with the household the same competition that characterizes relations between households. But nowhere in economic theory is there any recognition that individual households are better off when the community as a whole is better off.

In the first decades after World War II many Westerners went to Third World countries to help them "develop." Many did so idealistically. Most of them took for granted the Western model of development, along with the economic theory that supported it. They were distressed to find considerable resistance among traditional people. They could point out that more money could be earned if some members of a family would go to the city to work in a factory. But both those whom they encouraged to go and those who would stay home disliked the break-up of the family and the larger community entailed in such a change. They did not see the additional goods they might acquire as more valuable than the human relationships that would be damaged. Development experts complained that they could not make progress until they could modernize or rationalize the thinking of these backward people.

Largely, I think, by eroding or undercutting the economic basis of many traditional societies, we have succeeded in breaking this resistance. There are many tales of violence that can be told about this process. Of course, persuasion in the form of advertising and education has also played its role. The application of a theory that places no value on human community has destroyed much.

In our own country we can see the outworking of the theory. At the beginning of the twentieth century we were a rural society with thousands of small towns. Many farms were operated by their family owners. Many families lived fairly well. The little towns were also reasonably healthy in economic and other ways. At the end of the century, we are an urban and suburban society. The countryside has been depopulated except as it provides retreats for city-dwellers. Most of the small towns have disappeared. A few have grown in size as major centers.

There are many causes for this drastic social change. An important one is the economistic judgment that agriculture should become more efficient. It should be industrialized, so that fewer people can produce more food. To take advantage of new machinery, farms had to become much larger. Obviously, if farms grow ten-fold in size, then nine formerly independent farmers either leave farming or take work as employees on the former farms. Since the purpose of enlarging farms is to substitute machines for human labor, most must leave.

Some who are forced off the farm no doubt find good lives in the cities. But others do not. In either case, the quality of rural community declines drastically. What is interesting is that this decline plays no role whatsoever in the evaluation of this change by economists. Lester Thurow is a leading liberal Democratic economist, and I have no doubt about his concern for people and for justice. Indeed, he has even written about the need for community. But socialized as he is into individualistic thinking, he has had no eyes for the destruction of community by the industrialization of agriculture in this country. He has stated that the one area of greatest gain in the American economy has been in agriculture. He means, of course, that there is where production has been continued with the greatest reduction of labor.

I need here to emphasize a point I have made earlier. If economics is understood as one contribution alongside others, such as sociology, political theory, cultural studies, and so forth, then there is no serious problem. Economists could tell us how to increase total production; sociologists could tell us how to improve community life; political theorists could describe policies that promote participation and justice; students of culture could describe the effects of various proposals in that area. It would then be up to the community as a whole how to balance the various values. Concern for the health of the community would play a large role in the resultant decisions.

But we have noted that this is not now the way decisions are made. Economic considerations rule, and all others are subordinated to them. In that context the failure of economists to consider the value of communal life, stemming from their individualistic understanding of human beings, has devastating effects. It is a major source of violence.

The same lack shows up in the positive evaluation of factory closings. Economists strongly support the mobility of capital. Seeking overall growth, they note that capital should be invested where it is most profitable. This enables it to contribute to the largest amount of production of those goods that are most in demand.. If an Indiana factory is less profitable than a comparable factory in South Carolina, then the rational and proper decision for the owner is to close the Indiana factory and produce in South Carolina.

Economists as economists give little thought to the reasons that production in Indiana is more expensive or to the consequences of the closure to the factory town. The reasons are often that the factory is unionized and the workers are well paid, whereas in South Carolina a more docile labor force is willing to work for lower wages. The gains for the workers laboriously won over decades of struggle are quickly erased. A whole community whose economy is based on the factory is wiped out. We know that abuse of alcohol and drugs increases along with physical abuse of women and children. There is a great deal of violence here. But the factory owners would, in economic terms, be irrational to be swayed by such considerations. To consider the human values of a healthy community is not "rational."

Today the factory would be more likely to move to Mexico than to South Carolina. Although the workers in South Carolina are willing to work for less than those in Indiana, they cannot compete with workers in Mexico. And when Mexican workers complain of their low pay, they are reminded that Haitians and Central Americans will work for even less. We are back to the race to the bottom.

VII

Thus far I have emphasized the violence worked on human beings because of the lack of attention to justice and community. Equally important is the violence worked on the nonhuman world because of the virtual absence of nature from economic thinking. I say "virtual absence" because it can be argued that nature has been present in economic thinking under the rubric of land.

In the beginning of modern economics, land played a role as one of the three factors in production. In the earlier physiocratic economics developed in France, land had been central. It was believed that it was land that transformed seeds into plants with far more seeds, thus bringing wealth to the owners of land.

The British founders of modern economics argued that capital and labor are also important factors of production. Although they did not deny the role of land, they focused on the other two as the sources of dynamic growth in the economy. In the struggle for power between landowners and capitalists, they sided with capitalists. Hence they downplayed the role of land.

This process of downplaying continued through the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Marx omitted both land and capital, arguing that labor is the one factor in production. Capitalist economics opposed Marx by insisting on the independent importance of capital, but it increasingly treated land either as a form of capital or as a commodity. Its distinctive capacity to transform seeds into plants played no further role. In other words, the connection of land to living nature was lost.

One might suppose that economists would have a great concern for the natural resources used by industry. Surprisingly, they do not. The reason is that the cost of natural resources is a very small part of the cost of industrial production. Also, in the calculation of that cost, economists point out that most of it is a matter of the capital invested in extracting or producing them combined with the labor. The value of the copper in the ground turns out to be negligible for most purposes. What value it has can be included under capital or treated as a commodity.

Outside the profession of economics there is today a great deal of concern about the exhaustion of resources. We worry that over-fishing and disruption of parts of the ocean eco-system are already reducing the availability of food from the sea. We worry that global forests are disappearing. We worry that arable soil is eroding and that water for irrigation is being used unsustainably. We worry that the supply of oil on which our industrial civilization is based will be largely depleted within twenty or thirty years.

Economists as a group do not share these concerns. They believe that capital is a substitute for natural resources in the sense that it can enable us to use the resources more efficiently, find ways to extract and use lower-grade materials, develop substitutes, and move to quite new modes of production. They point out that technology has repeatedly done this in the past. It will do so again as prices rise and make alternatives profitable. In short, if we behave rationally in increasing production, the market will respond to signals about shortages and evoke the new technologies we need.

You will notice that in this economic model, nature plays no role. No attention is paid to the actual condition of the natural world, just as none is paid to human community. Those who do pay attention to this are far less sanguine about the capacity of technology to solve all problems. It cannot solve the problem of habitat loss. Thus far its applications to agriculture have speeded up the erosion and degradation of soils. The green revolution, the greatest success of technology in increasing yields, has also made agriculture far more dependent on oil and reduced the biodiversity that provides security against devastating pests. The replacement of natural forests with plantations of new, fast-growing trees helps to provide timber and paper but speeds up other losses. Even if technology can provide new sources of energy when oil is exhausted, the market signals supposed to trigger the needed changes will come far too late. Economists have much to contribute on these matters, but when we follow them while ignoring geographers, ecologists, and zoologists, we continue to work devastating violence on the natural world. This devastation is already affecting hundreds of millions of people.

VIII

Economic theory allows a somewhat larger place for the consideration of pollution than for natural resources. Pollution can be treated under the heading of "externalities." The terminology points to the fact that this has not been a central concern in the formation of economic theory.

The first discussion of externalities dealt with positive externalities. It was noted that when homeowners beautified their front yard, they benefited all who lived nearby or walked past. But gradually it was acknowledged that there are negative externalities as well. A market transaction will always benefit both parties, but it may have incidental consequences that are deleterious to others.

For example, when one buys gasoline from a filling station, one does so because one wants the gas more than the cash. The owner of the station wants the money more than the gas. The exchange benefits both. However, as one drives on, one contributes to the pollution of the atmosphere. Many people who are not involved in the market transaction are affected.

Acknowledgment of this has led many economists to support Pigovian taxes. The idea is that when we purchase anything, we should pay the full cost. Since some of that cost is now borne by the public at large, we should pay a tax that compensates for that social cost.

If the economic profession would put the weight of its authority behind a thorough system of Pigovian taxes it could lead to directing economic development in much less destructive channels. Unfortunately, this is a far less central concern of most economists than is the free movement of capital and goods. Furthermore, the accurate calculation of Pigovian taxes would be extremely difficult. Nevertheless, to follow up on the important example above, many countries charge high taxes on the purchase of automobiles and fuel. Thus far the United States has resisted serious consideration of this step

The most controversial application of the principle may be with respect to global warming. It is almost certain now that human activities are contributing to a rise in planetary temperatures. It is almost certain that this is already leading to an increase in storms and other destructive weather patterns. In the long run it will cause a rise in ocean levels that will threaten many small islands and deltas. It is likely to speed up the extinction of species and seriously disrupt agricultural production. It may lead to changes in ocean currents, such as the Gulf Stream, the destructive consequences of which would incalculable.

Thus far few economists have supported proposals for drastic changes in economic policy to slow the rate of rise of temperature. The tendency is to assume that our greatest need in confronting problems of this sort is economic prosperity. Many believe that with sufficient resources we can make the necessary adjustments, build the necessary dikes, and compensate those whose property is destroyed by worsening storms. In short, it is better to accept the growing violence than to derail economic progress.

IX

This essay is written by a Christian as part of a pair of essays, Buddhist and Christian. I have made little explicit reference to the point of view I bring to these matters. I hope that people with a variety of points of view can agree on much that I have written, although I know that those with some other points of view see matters quite differently. Many of those by whom I have been most influenced are not Christian. It is far more important that we work together to counteract the violence in which we are collectively involved than that we emphasize differences in our approach.

However, in concluding, I will comment briefly on how I understand my faith to have influenced me in looking at these questions. First, my faith leads me to care about the world as God’s creation. Every creature has value in itself and for God. This creation is not composed of a set of independent features that can be adequately understood in abstraction from one another. It is concretely a unity.

Within this whole, my faith directs me to be particularly concerned with what happens to the weak and vulnerable. Traditionally this attention has been directed chiefly toward weak and vulnerable human beings. We must evaluate policies and programs first and foremost in terms of their effects on "the least of these."

My tradition emphasizes human responsibility. In our creation story, we are given responsibility for the whole. Recently we have been repenting for having exercised our responsibility as if it were license to exploit. It is our task now to rethink both our heritage and the nature of the world for which we bear so much responsibility. This requires that we analyze especially the most influential patterns of thought and the most powerful actors in today’s world.

The three omissions from economic theory that I have emphasized no doubt express quite clearly my Christian theology. Nothing has been more central to my heritage from the ancient Jews than a concern for justice. It is easier to rally Christians around that slogan than any other. The results of our struggles for justice have often been ambiguous, but we cannot abandon our efforts. Our concern for the weak and poor is largely a concern that they be treated justly.

Concern for community has also been part of our heritage. Protestant thinking, and especially the Enlightenment thinking that arose from it, reacted against the kind of community that restricted the freedom of its members and forced them into conformity. Thus the form of Christianity I have inherited has had a strongly individualistic caste. But this can only go so far for Christians. We know that we are bound together in the community of the church. We are members one of another. And we know also that our mutual participation extends to the whole of humanity, if not to all creatures.

For Christians it is important to recognize both our individuality and our participation with one another in communities. Paul Tillich emphasized the polar relation of these elements in his systematic theology. Many Christians have used the phrase "person-in-community" to affirm this polarity. Communities do not flourish, indeed they are not true communities, if their members are not fully developed persons with distinctive and varied individuality. But individuals cannot become such persons except in community. To Christian eyes, the Enlightenment’s emphasis on individuality is one-sided. Its political and economic theories based on this individualism are unrealistic and destructive. I was led by these considerations to develop with Herman Daly an "economics for community."

Finally, the point at which we Christians have recognized our failure most clearly is in our long ignoring of what we now call "the integrity of creation." We have allowed ourselves to accept the modern dualism of humanity and nature, mind and body. But when confronted with the unbiblical character of this dualism and by its historic consequences, few Christians have defended it. Most of us who have thought about these matters have repented. Whether our repentance has gone far enough is another questions.

But today we readily see in economic theory the error of which we were long guilty ourselves. We see that it locates all intrinsic value in human experience, the satisfying of human wants, and treats everything else as merely instrumental to human ends. We see the terrible consequences to which this leads. And we are ashamed that we have ourselves so often thought in this way and that we share responsibility for its continuing prevalence in Western civilization.

We have been engaged in trying to purge this error from our own formulations. As we do so, we readily note its presence in other formulations of Western thought. What is false for Christian theology is false for these other parts of Western civilization as well. We are not hesitant to identify and criticize, although we should be very hesitant to do so self-righteously. Our own historic errors have much responsibility for the errors of contemporary academic disciplines and humanistic culture generally. But our guilt does not relieve us of the responsibility to name the errors of others.

The Disappearance of Theology from the Oldline Churches

The title assumes a particular meaning of "theology," but not one that requires a narrow and precise definition. What has disappeared is the serious activity of faith seeking understanding or self-consciously Christian reflection on important issues. "Disappearance" also requires explanation. It cannot mean that no members of these churches engage in theology. I, for one, try to do so, and I am certainly not alone. It means, instead, that theology no longer plays an important role in the life of these churches. It exists on the periphery, tolerated, but not employed in making basic decisions. By "oldline churches" I mean, of course, those churches that once considered themselves "mainline." They continue to serve a large segment of middle America. What I have to say may apply to some other churches in some respects, but I emphatically do not have the Korean churches or the Black churches or the conservative evangelical churches or the charismatic churches in mind as I write.

By churches I mean both the congregations and the bureaucracies, hierarchies, and conferences through which they govern themselves as denominations. For convenience, I am not including the seminaries. However, the disppearance of theology from the churches is partly the result of its decline in the seminaries, and partly the cause of that decline. Theology was relegated to professional specialists, and increasingly it is abandoned by them as well.

The rise of "religious studies" has played its role in limiting the place of theology. This label refers to the kind of study of religious phenomena that is normative in departments of religion in most universities and many colleges. It brings to bear on these phenomena methods that have been developed by anthropologists, psychologists, sociologists, and historians. The data studied are both contemporary religious life and the history of religions. Although this approach was honed in secular universities so as to fit the general ideology of the university, it now dominates much graduate education in religion, so that many of the doctoral students from whom seminaries draw their faculties are educated in this way.

A second important approach has replaced some of the kind of theology I have identified. This is thinking about the Christian faith and the church in the interest of the liberation of particular oppressed groups. Some of those who do this remain theological in my sense. It is as Christians that they call for liberation. But for others the commitment to liberation is primary and Christian teaching and communities are employed for the sake of this liberation.

A third activity that has drawn off a good deal of energy from theology is the critique of the Christian heritage. This can be closely related to either of the first two approaches, but it can also be distinguished from them. The criticism may be aroused by the awareness of the depth of anti-Jewish teaching in the tradition and its continuing power for evil. Or it may be that the long history of repression of the body and its sexuality excites criticism. This criticism can come about in the context of faith seeking understanding, and in this case it characteristically moves on to repentance and theological change. But much of it does not understand itself or present itself in this theological way.

A fourth nontheological style of work in seminaries is devoted to the advancement of the traditional academic disciplines. The work of many Biblical scholars, for example, is shaped much more by the state of their discipline and the sense of what its new methods can learn than by the Christian faith of the scholars. Christian identity is largely bracketed in this process, so that it is emphatically not a requirement for participation in the academic guild. Obviously, then, the work of these scholars is not theology as I have defined it.

Theology as faith seeking understanding or intentionally Christian reflection on important questions is largely relegated to the professors of systematic theology. Some of these continue to pursue the task vigorously, but others devote more of their time to studying and teaching the thought of other theologians or sharing in some of the approaches listed above. Some devote themselves to defending classical positions without clarifying what these mean for life and action in a very different world. The work of faith seeking understanding, especially if we think of this as the kind of faith that operates in the mainstream of the oldline churches, is at the periphery of seminary teaching.

Much the same point could be made if "theology" were defined more literally as reflection about God. Religious studies and the Biblical and historical disciplines employ only those methods and approaches that are approved within the university. They cannot, therefore, speak of God. Of course, they can talk about what is said about God by those people or texts they study. But they cannot themselves affirm anything about God. For the university God is not an explanatory factor in what happens in the world. Scholars in these fields may share their private beliefs at times, but they cannot allow these to influence their teaching.

Those who are primarily committed to liberation or criticism are themselves in some tension with the university norms. They are not excluded from affirmations about God, but they are much more likely to concern themselves with images of God or language about God than with God. Hence, once again, the direct task of theology is left to the systematic theologians, and not all of these are comfortable to take it up. To affirm God and to think of God as in any way explanatory of events in the world is to place oneself outside the university ethos, the ethos accepted by so many of the theologian's colleagues. On the other side, if the theologian takes serious account of the many reasons that God is excluded from the university, her or his work is not likely to be well-received in the church.

Since so little of the scholarly and intellectual work of the faculties of theology is geared to the service of the church, it is not surprising that the church takes little interest in this work. Scholars largely write for one another and for the students to whom they assign their books. They do not expect any continuing interest once the students have graduated and become pastors. The chief exception to this in recent times is among women pastors, some of whom do keep up with the work of feminist scholars and theologians.

Having relegated theology to the professionals, and finding their work of little interest, the church has given up on theology. The dominant attitude is one of suspicion. In any case, since few church leaders or pastors read the writings of their faculties of theology, they prefer to assure themselves that they are not missing anything of value. This fits well with the anti-intellectualism so characteristic of much of our culture.

Preaching is largely based on popular psychology and common sense. This is suffused with a pious ethos and some traditional Christian rhetoric. It is designed to reassure and motivate rather than to stimulate thought about what it means to be a Christian in our complex time.

Denominational leaders make their decisions largely in terms of the wellbeing of the institutions they lead. Serious reflection about what the Christian faith calls these institutions to do and be is rare. Certainly, ethical considerations and compassion for individuals play a role. But on the whole good management practices are prized more than theology. And when Christian beliefs are explicitly appealed to, one suspects rationalization rather than theological reflection.

Pastors and denominational leaders work together to protect the lay membership from controversy. This reenforces the marginalization of theology, since latent beliefs about what the faith is vary greatly. The result is that lay people normally learn about controversial matters only through the secular press.

Three examples will suffice. The oldline churches are ecumenical in spirit and support the work of the World Council of Churches. Nevertheless few lay people learn through their churches about the work of this Council. Hence, when they read an expose of the World Council in Readers Digest they feel betrayed. The denominational and pastoral response is to soothe their feelings and relapse into silence.

On the whole academic professionals are content with the gap between themselves and the churches since it guarantees minimal interference. However, a few are distressed that lay Christians are kept in the dark with respect to what is happening in the study of Christianity in the university and even with respect to the general intellectual and cultural character of the present age. One of these professionals was Thomas Altizer who wrote a book with the shocking title of The Gospel of Christian Atheism and then cultivated the public media. The book itself was little read, but Time magazine featured "the death of God" on its cover and the church was not able to conceal from its members that the dominant cultural community no longer affirmed the reality and activity of God. Considerable public discussion ensued, but little of it took place within the churches. Their role was to assure the faithful that the problem was not serious.

Currently the churches have a similar opportunity to open up discussion which, in general, they again treat as a threat. Robert Funk has organized many of his New Testament colleagues into the Jesus Seminar whose function it is to package New Testament scholarship in a form that gains secular media attention. Thus far it seems that the churches will pay as little attention to the ensuing discussion as possible because of the fear of its negative effects on the institution.

The oldline churches have paid, and continue to pay, a high price for their abandonment of theology. Lay people no longer look to the church for guidance in most of their affairs. These include ethical decisions, family life, and even spirituality. One wonders what role is left to the church! Young people growing up in the church sense how restricted its contribution has become and are not persuaded of its importance. They may have nothing against it, but large numbers of them see no reason to continue their parents' loyalty. The major reason for the decline of the oldline churches in numbers is their inability to hold most of their children once they have reached the age for making their own decisions.

When the churches can no longer avoid controversy by smoothing things over, the positions that emerge in debate have little relation to the Christian faith. Instead, they simply reflect the deep divisions in the culture. When the churches establish commissions which engage in thorough and conscientious study, the general membership is unaffected by their arguments. Since their commitments are not in fact based on faith seeking understanding, the understanding that emerges from faith is of little interest to them. They care only whether their side wins.

The current debates on homosexuality illustrate this point. The church avoided serious reflection about sexuality as long as it could. It knew this would be controversial. Not having encouraged lay people to reflect about their faith on any topic, they are now forced to call for such reflection on a peculiarly difficult and emotion-fraught subject. The results are painful. Since there has been no habit of reflection and no clarification of how Christians are to think about anything, Christians suppose that their gut feelings represent normative Christian teaching.

Most of the argument is little more than rationalization of these feelings.

Even so, for one who believes that without theology the church can only wither away, the present situation is hopeful. Since the issue of homosexuality will not go away, the church's usual response to controversial topics cannot be employed. It has to encourage its people to reflect as Christians. Unaccustomed as they are to this challenge, still some do respond. There is some possibility that church leaders will recognize that such reflection is needed on other topics as well, that a habit of theological reflection, and that alone, can provide a context in which new problems can be met in a healthy way. There is some possibility that churches that engage seriously in reflecting on important issues will begin to affect the thinking of their members. There is some possibility that such churches will persuade their youth that they are worthy of participation and commitment.

None of this can happen without a shift from the present dominance of institutionalism to a fresh understanding of the church's mission. That, too, can only occur through theological reflection. Unless we ask as Christians what God is calling us to do and be, we cannot get beyond the institutional survivalist mode that is in fact undercutting the prospects of survival. But we cannot change from those habits except as we renew the effort to understand our faith and what it requires of us in this bewildering time.

The theology for which I am calling is one that takes place within the church. Denominational leaders must function as theologians. Pastors must reclaim not only the title but the reality. And lay theology must be renewed. All this can happen, if church people decide it is worthwhile, even without changes among professionals. But its occurrence would in fact have a great effect upon professionals, and the renewal of theology among professionals would also greatly aid the church.

The renewal of theology among professionals does not require the abandonment of the approaches sketched above. It does require that those who follow each approach claim their Christian identity and reflect on how that identity justifies and encourages work done in the chosen style. This would also affect the topics that were pursued. For example, instead of selecting research topics entirely because of the state of the discipline, a historical scholar can select a topic that the church finds important in its own theological work. Instead of being guided only by the needs of a particular oppressed group a liberationist may seek to help the church as a whole find the appropriate response to the recognition of its role in that oppression.

But in addition to these shifts of emphasis within present approaches, faculty as a whole can be asked to join the church in reflecting about their faith. Rather than leaving such reflection entirely in the hands of systematic theologians, all who are Christian should be involved. This is not really a radical proposal. As recently as twenty years ago New Testament scholars provided much of the theological leadership. A few still do. That tradition can be renewed, and a revival of theology in the church would encourage such renewal in the seminary.

There are quite practical steps that could be taken to renew theology in the seminaries, should the churches decide that theology is important for them. Suppose denominational leaders recognized that instead of waiting for internal crises to initiate a process of study and reflection, it would be good for the churches to be proactive. Suppose they decided that there are other issues as important as homosexuality on which the church needs to do Christian thinking. Perhaps one such issue might be the growing underclass that is the product of the globalization of the economy. Perhaps another such issue is the threat of practical nihilism that is engendered by the decline of traditional faiths. Perhaps a third is how Christ is to be understood in a world in which many people, including Christians, view the Dalai Lama as a great spiritual leader.

The point here is not to identify the most important questions. The problems our society faces are innumerable and they pose challenges of many kinds to the churches. The point is simply to illustrate the fact that there are difficult questions to which the church has yet to give thought. If the church decided that giving guidance to its own members, and perhaps even to a larger community, were part of its mission, it could use its resources to that end. Among its most important and underused resources are its seminary faculties.

That is not to say that members of these faculties are under worked. Most are very busy. But it is to say that in their work they are directed chiefly by considerations than the needs of the church. If a denomination turned to a specific faculty with a specific question, requesting guidance in thinking about it, that faculty could organize itself in such a way that students and teachers could work together over a period of years to come up with ideas that would often be genuinely helpful. Of course, this would not work if after receiving such reports there were no serious response from the denomination. But if the reports were widely disseminated and the resulting discussions influenced denominational policies, other seminaries would gladly take part in dealing with other topics.

The focused purpose of any such project would be helping the denomination renew Christian thinking about crucial issues. But the incidental benefits would be enormous. The current mutual suspicion between seminaries and denominations would be replaced by collaboration in a shared mission. Faculties themselves would be challenged to exemplify the integration of the various fields that they now leave to students. Students could work with professors and get a taste of what serious theological work can be, whether in Bible, church history, Christian ethics, psychology of religion, history of religions, or systematic theology. In short, for a little money and a little effort denominational leaders could transform their seminaries and their relation to the church, but if, and only if, they themselves become serious about the role of theology in the church.

Is there any possibility that the church renew theology? I do not know. The usual response to decline is to close ranks and try to survive. That has been the pattern thus far. But sometimes, when it is overwhelmingly evident that that strategy fails, that, as Christians should have known all along, those who try to save their lives lose them, there emerges the willingness to take risks. This has happened in some local congregations. Perhaps it can happen at denominational levels as well.

Shaping a Vision for Cultural Pluralism

Globally, cultural pluralism is a truly critical issue. Under its impact the nation state is giving way. At the same time we in the United States have committed ourselves to building a nation state on the basis of cultural pluralism. Is this possible? We Christians have committed ourselves to making it work within the church. If we succeed, perhaps this will be the greatest contribution of the church to the wider society in this generation.

In this paper I want first to look at the global situation with all its testimonies to the divisive character of cultural diversity. I will then turn to the U. S. experiment -- the forms it has taken thus far. In the third section I will offer two more promising models that we can now envisage. After that I will come to the church's contribution and our responsibility.

I

The word "nation" has had a double use. My dictionary gives as the first meaning: "a people, usually the inhabitants of a specific territory, who share common customs, origins, history, and frequently language or related languages." The second meaning is: "an aggregation of people organized under a single government, a country."

Many of us have not been especially sensitive to the difference between the two meanings because in European history nations in the second sense came into being largely to express the aspirations of nations in the first sense. That is, the French people, defined by common customs, origins, history, and language, created the nation state that is France. Nationalist sentiment has supported the French government against other governments. France is thus a nation in both senses.

But the fit between national boundaries in the second sense and nations in the first sense is rarely perfect. Even in France there are Basques who do not identify themselves culturally as French. Their national feelings bind them to the Basques in Spain. Also there are French-speaking people in Switzerland, Belgium, and Canada who do not identify with France.

As I grew up I assumed that the primary determinants of national feeling were the boundaries of nation states. I assumed that French Basques were primarily French, whereas French-speaking Swiss, Belgians, and Canadians were primarily Swiss, Belgians, and Canadians. Today we know that the situation in each case is different, and that cultural-linguistic differences are extremely important.

Switzerland remains the great success story of a pluralistic society in which the political boundaries largely correspond with the personal loyalties of its people despite cultural-linguistic diversity. Belgium has survived an acute internal struggle between its French and Flemish populations by giving equal status to the latter after centuries of subordination. For example, the great University of Louvain has divided into two. The old campus has now become Flemish, called the University of Leeuwen. A new campus was built a few miles away for French-speaking Belgians. At present the effort to hold together in one country two quite distinct cultural and linguistic communities seems to be succeeding. Only time will tell.

Canada is currently in the news because of separatist feeling in the predominantly French province of Quebec. Here the French minority seem more committed to their Frenchness than to the nation-state of Canada. On the other side, much of English Canada has been unwilling to yield its cultural dominance so that Canada could become a truly bi-cultural country.

I have chosen mild examples. It is easy to find more violent ones. There are the division of the Indian subcontinent between India and Pakistan and the continuing ethnic struggles in the former. There is the long-protracted struggle in northern Ireland. There are the independence movements of various cultural groups in the Soviet Union. There is the ongoing struggle of the Kurds in Turkey, Iraq, and Iran. There are the rebellion of the Tamils in Sri Lanka, the bloody disintegration of Lebanon, and the near-hopeless frustration in Israel. There are the endless tribal conflicts in Africa as the people there try to adapt to the boundaries imposed upon them by colonial rulers. There is the millenia-long "Jewish problem" in Europe, as the national feeling of the majority again and again led to the persecution of the Jewish minority in its midst, culminating in our own time in the "final solution." It seems in general that governmental boundaries are not as determinative of personal loyalty as we once thought, and that cultural and linguistic loyalties are more intractable.

II

Let us consider the American experiment against this background. It is a remarkable one, and it has been remarkably successful. A high percentage of people from many cultural backgrounds have transferred their primary loyalty to this country. This has often happened soon after arrival, and after several generations, intermarriage and cultural assimilation are often so advanced that national origin becomes quite minor in one's self definition. Against the background of European nationalism all of this is to be celebrated as realizing something of the meaning of the motto: e pluribus unum.

Today we are all aware of the limits of this accomplishment. The many who became one were all European. Even that requires more careful formulation. The Irish, the Italians, and Eastern Europeans found themselves on the periphery of a Protestant culture. As late as World War I, even persons of German descent were viewed with suspicion. Still, in fact, the unifying process had gone a long way. There has been no serious movement for the autonomy of ethnic groups of European origin. All have been in fact loyal to the government of the United States. And today Irish, Italian, or Eastern European origin is no barrier to public acceptance.

For non-Europeans the story has been very different. Against the Native Americans, genocide has been practiced on a large scale. Africans came as slaves and were denied any opportunity to become part of the society even after emancipation. Asians and Hispanics were accepted as laborers but not as real participants.

It was only after World War II that we began to face up to the severe limitations of the unity we had sought. We had assimilated Europeans with many ethnic backgrounds into an English-speaking and primarily Protestant-secular culture. But within our national borders were large numbers of Africans and Hispanics, and smaller numbers of Asians and indigenous people, who were marginalized. In spite of their exclusion from political and economic power, most of these groups identified themselves as American and wanted to be more accepted as part of the unity. Hence the first response, especially under pressure from Black leadership, was to extend to these groups the methods by which others had been assimilated.

The most important instrument of the assimilation of the many European ethnic groups was public education. Most Blacks had been segregated into very inferior schools. We integrated the schools as well as other public facilities. The goal was to assimilate all minority groups into the majority culture and ethos.

For one group this experiment has worked brilliantly -- the Asians. Once legal restrictions were removed and racial barriers lowered, Asians entered the mainstream of American life. The only problem in the public schools is the dramatic way in which they have outperformed other groups. It would be easy to imagine that within a few generations, the question of ethnic origin would become no more important for Americans of Asian descent than it now is for Americans of European descent.

But just this possibility raises questions about the ideal. Is the unity we want that of assimilation into the dominant Anglo culture? The question is asked on both sides. Anglos have become more aware of the limitations of their own culture and more interested in the cultures of the East. To eradicate that culture from persons of Asian descent no longer appears as an unqualified gain. From the side of the Asians, the culture into which they are asked to assimilate appears decadent. They do not want to give up the values and spirit that enable them to succeed so brilliantly in American society.

For Blacks and Hispanics the issue appears somewhat differently. Access to public schools and to other institutions from which they had previously been largely excluded turns out to be less beneficial than they had expected. For some of their number, it works personally. They can rise through these institutions, internalize the Anglo ethos, and succeed in the public competition so central to that ethos. But for many others, a majority, it does not work. Their cultural heritage and the ethos it has produced have not emphasized those values that lead to success in Anglo culture. To whatever extent self-esteem depends on that kind of success, public openness to their particiption in the competition lowers their self-esteem. They can continue, with some legitimacy to blame public prejudice and discrimination against them, but the truth is that others, with differing cultural values, including members of their own ethnic groups, have been able to succeed despite the obstacles. To whatever extent success in competition in Anglo culture is a measure of the excellence of a culture, their cultures are inferior.

This raises acutely the question of the justification of the hegemony of one culture in the unity that is to emerge out of the many. Perhaps African, Latin American, and Native American cultures have values that are radically different from European and Asian ones, values that lead to different measures of human wellbeing and success, and perhaps the effort to replace those values with others that will lead to success in Anglo culture is a mistake.

The community that has been struggling longest and most self-consciously with this question is the Native American. For centuries now, when the U. S. government has not promoted or at least allowed genocide, it has worked to eradicate the difference between Native American cultures and the Anglo one. Native American culture has certainly suffered under this assault, but it has not been destroyed. The consciousness of its value and the willingness to sacrifice for its preservation have been part of the experience of Native Americans for many generations.

For reasons such as this the ideal of assimilation of all to Anglo culture has given way to the ideal of pluralism. The Black Power movement was a crucial expression of this shift. Blacks learned to be proud of their Blackness and of all that meant culturally. In theology we were forced - painfully - to recognize that our heritage in Christian thinking was white, and that other racial groups had an equal right to determine what Christianity truly is. Instead of emphasizing the "one" that the nation was to become, we emphasized the multiplicity of cultures that could enrich the whole.

But clearly there is a problem here for both church and state. No community or institution can exist without some commonality or unity of purpose and values. If each ethnic community within it defines the end for the whole in different terms, terms expessive of its distinctive perspective, decisions at the inclusive level will have to be made purely in terms of power. Indeed, the more radical expressions of black power were suppressed by force, and the more radical proposals to the churches were simply voted down.

III

Most public discourse and public action in the United States moves between assimilationism, called integration, and pluralism. It is often assumed that there are no other choices. For those who are able to succeed in public competition within Anglo society, assimilation dominates public behavior, while privately, or in conjunction with others of their ethnic group, they may cultivate their distinctive cultural values. Generally, despite the rhetoric, the assimilative process is primary and advances with successive generations.

Meanwhile, the situation for those who do not succeed in the competition established by dominant Anglo values becomes more disparate all the time. They do not have institutional embodiments of the values of their cultures which provide different contexts for measuring success. Above all there is no economy expressive of their values where they could succeed without betraying their heritage. To fail in the dominant competition is to be reduced to squalor. Only the Native Americans have been able to maintain some semblance of a distinctive economy in which their values can be expressed, and this is quite minimal and unsatisfactory.

The Black Muslims offer another model of more successful pluralism. They have carried their separation from the dominant society into the economic realm. Although the basis of their successful businesses does not, so far as I can tell, have any special connection to African or Afro-American culture, its separateness allows them to maintain their separatist identity in other ways.

III

The question now is whether there are other models for thinking of our national goal of e plurabis unum. Can there be sufficient unity without eradication of the diversity of cultures? Are there other ways to deal with cultural pluralism than assimilation and separateness. A Black professor at Garrett-Evangelical Theological Seminary, Henry Young, has just published a book dealing with this question: Hope in Process: A Theology of Social Pluralism, and my reflection on this topic owes much to him.

One way to think of this matter is to distinguish two levels. One can say that to be a participant in any society one must accept a minimum core of values. To be a full participant in the life of the United States, for example, you must be loyal to the nation state and you must internalize those values that enable you to be effective in its economic life. Beyond that, pluralism can prevail. You can continue in the religion of your choice. You can celebrate the art and literature of your people. You can maintain cultural connections with the land of your ancestors. You can raise your children as you see fit, so long as that does not prevent them from assimilating the core values of the society.

To a large extent this expresses the present situation. Assmilation is required in matters that are essential for national unity and economic order. Beyond that, pluralism is welcomed. We have freedom of religion. We all enjoy the multiplicity of cuisines that are available, as well as contacts with the arts of many countries. But this compromise trivializes culture. Fundamentally, it is a continuation of the assimilationist program.

Young proposes that we employ an ecological model in thinking of a pluralistic society. Here the unity of all the diverse species does not consist in an homogenization. Each retains its real difference from all the others. But each contributes to the richness of a whole that is very different from any one of them.

The ecological model is extremely suggestive. Members of any one of the species making up the eco-system have some relations primarily with other members of their own species, but they are also intimately interrelated with members of other species. This balance of separateness and interaction is one of the strengths of the model.

Obviously, such a model is an analogy, not to be pressed in every direction. In an eco-system, many of the relations between species are those of predator and prey. The food chain is a kind of hierarchy that we have had too much of in human society. There is a ruthlessnes in relation to the survival of individuals that we do not want to carry over. Also eco-systems do not relate to other eco-systems in ways analogous to relations among countries.

The most important contribution of the ecological model is that it provides a vision of unity that does not involve assimilation of all to the norms and values of one culture. It suggests that each ethnic community can be itself with integrity and pride and contribute its distinctiveness to the whole without derogation of the contributions of others and without divisiveness. Its acceptance would set before us a complex agenda that would reverse many of the major trends in today's world.

Because I believe this model is, indeed, the appropriate one for the present, I want to explore what would be required to move in this direction. I am especially concerned with its economic implications. Since I do not believe that the present economic order is compatible with any ideal other than assimilation, leaving the unassimilable aside as mere liabilities, I believe the economic implications are radical.

The main reason that the present economic order is incompatible with the ecological model, or any other genuinely pluralistic one, is that it is based on homogenization. This is built into its theory. All people are understood in terms of the traditional Homo economicus, a rational self-interested individualist who sells labor and buys goods in the market. This is in real tension with Western Christianity, but it is in more drastic violation of all the other religious and cultural traditions. For the sake of economic development, accordingly, the goal is the rationalization or modernization of all societies, and this involves breaking up established communities and overturning deep seated cultural perceptions. In short it requires cultural homogenization.

An equally central part of economic theory and practice is the emphasis on specialization. It is by specialization that productivity is increased; and economic growth depends on productivity, that is, the amount produced per hour of labor. At first, this meant specialization within a community, but the specialization was rapidly extended to communities as a whole. In the United States, instead of producing on a single farm all the food needed to sustain a family, whole states specialize in producing one particular crop. In the Third World whole countries become mono-cultures oriented to export, depending for their food on imports from other countries specializing in other crops. If each specializes in what it can produce most efficiently, there will be more food for all.

Some people celebrate this as "interdependence," and they may even use the ecological model in thinking of it. It is true that fewer and fewer peoples can feed and clothe themselves without importing what they need from others. In that sense we are more and more dependent on one another for our survival. But this means that global interdependence is achieved at the price of making all peoples dependent on those who control international trade. The ecological model, in contrast, pictures local communities as self-sufficient. The interdependence is with those with whom one lives day by day. The ecological model personalizes relationships. The dominant economic model makes everyone dependent on impersonal forces, the rational effort at profit maximization on the part of the great transnational corporations.

The dominant economic model works toward centralization of economic power and homogenization of culture. The ecological model can be implemented only by drastic decentralization of the economy. There are some encouraging forces moving in that direction today, but the overwhelmingly dominant forces are still governed by the long-established economic model.

I speak with a sense of urgency because of what is happening just now in trade relations at the global level. Global trade, and therefore the global economy, is governed by a set of rules known as GATT, that is, General Agreement on Trade and Tariffs. The present rules were developed as compromises between the advocates of complete "free trade," the ideal that follows from dominant economic theory, and those who felt that nations should have some control over their own economies. These present rules have already given the advantage to the former, so that global interdependence has grown at the expense of relative self-sufficiency at the local level. Still there have been some gains with respect to that goal also. Third World countries have been able to restrict some of the most obviously exploitative practices of transnational corporations. The ideal of self-sufficiency, at least in food, has won some ground.

The United States government in the eighties, however, has been deeply committed to free trade as the solution to global economic problems. It has expanded free trade with Canada and Mexico, and in what is called the Uruguay round of negotiations, it is persuading the leaders of the great trading nations to adopt a new GATT that will outlaw the policies by which nations have defended themselves against the worst effects of free trade. For example, the present agreement allows a country in which there is famine to stop the export of food in order to feed its own people. The new proposals would forbid that as in restraint of trade. Even if that particular proposal is dropped as a compromise, the other provisions will have much the same effect.

Those who would move the world decisively in this direction know that many people would be hurt by the new rules. But they are convinced that in the long run all will be better off since the total production of goods and services will increase. Hence they want to reduce the political force of what they see as short-sighted opposition. To this end they are keeping the negotiations secret. At least one person who has tried to alert others to what is going on has been threatened with prosecution for espionage under the Logan Act. Clearly the proponents of these new proposals know that a great deal is at stake. Even in this country all national or state legislation designed to protect human health, the rights of workers, family farmers, or the natural environment will be subject to being overruled as in restraint of trade. Third World governments will be drastically disempowered.

Of course, the administration cannot implement the agreement without congressional approval. Here lies the hope of those who believe that the homogenization of the planet and its control by a few economic interests is a disastrous end to human history. We know that trying to solve the problems of the planet by speeding up economic production will not work, since the environment simply cannot survive this kind of pressure. The unimpeded pursuit of general economic growth, directed only by market mechanisms, is suicidal. Some of us believe that with time to organize and make the case, Congress could be persuaded to block these agreements.

Probably the administration thinks so too. Their passion for secrecy suggests as much. Further, they have arranged with Congress that it will have no authority to amend the agreements. Instead it will have to act within sixty days of receiving the proposals, and a simple majority vote for or against is all that Congress is allowed. This vote may come this fall, while our representatives are preoccupied with elections.

As you can see, I have decided that it is not appropriate to speak abstractly of pluralism at a time when the possibility of developing healthy pluralistic models is about to be lost, perhaps forever. I suspect that most of you have regarded agreements about international trade as too technical to be of interest. I hope you will become interested. I fear that the destiny of the planet is about to be irrevocably decided.

If these final steps of homogenization and centralization are avoided, and if we can retain some room to experiment with other models, how would this work out? I propose that in our country, more and more groups should develop relatively self-sufficient local economies with an agricultural base in family farming and an industrial base in small factories. It has been shown that a quite small community, say ten thousand people, can produce most of what they need, and indeed do so in ways that retain healthy competition. Some of these communities might be ethnic, and ethnic values might dictate the amount and kinds of goods that were desired as well as the way they were produced. Others would be multi-ethnic, and could experiment with ways in which small communities could be enriched by diverse contributions. All would aim at sustainable relations with the natural world. I am not suggesting that these communities would not trade with one another. Most of them should and would. But this trade would be free in a sense in which what is called "free" trade is not.

Let me explain. A few centuries ago most countries, and even most regions within countries, produced the necessities of life. They were then free to trade or not to trade with others. When they chose to trade, they did so because this could improve the quality of their lives. Europeans could survive without spices, but by exchanging their surpluses for spices, they could enjoy their food a great deal more. When the exporters of spices acted voluntarily and received in exchange goods that enriched their lives, both sides gained by trade. This trade was truly free.

But the legacy of colonialism, and the effects of the neocolonialism of contemporary trade policy, are quite different. A country that can no longer feed itself is not free not to trade. It must sell its products at whatever price others will buy in order to purchase food at whatever price others will sell. Its only freedom is to choose between this exchange and starvation. To call this trade "free," as is normally done, is a travesty. Truly free trade can be restored only as local communities become relatively self-sufficient. Obviously this will also be a greatly reduced trade, requiring far less fossil fuel and contributing much less to the Greenhouse Effect. But here we are emphasizing that it will be a form of economic life that will allow people of different cultures to express their values in what they produce, how they produce it, and how they live.

My greatest sense of urgency is focused on this ecological model. But there is another model of pluralism that also seems to me to have relevance to our thinking of the future of this nation. It could be called the evolutionary model to complement the ecological one.

In interpreting the world of living things, evolutionary models have played a large role. They have been dangerous. When applied to human society they have been used to justify the survival of the fittest, meaning by "fittest," whoever survives in the military and economic competition. In relation to the natural world, they have led to depreciation of simpler organisms and preoccupation with the latest and most complex products of the evolutionary process.

Nevertheless, evolution is a fact, and its focus on cumulative change producing desirable results is not wrong. The ecological model by itself abstracts from all of this and can support a quite static world view. The ecological model, when abstracted from possible negative uses, provides us a way of thinking of e pluribus unum that avoids taking one extant culture as normative or just leaving the many as many. Still it suggests that each of the many remains internally unchanged. In this model the cultures are not modified by their relation to one another.

What I am calling the evolutionary model works best if we think of the evolution of the eco-system rather than of the evolutionary emergence of a new species. Here the assumption is that the healthy functioning of the eco-system brings about positive changes in the species that make it up. In the context of human society, it means that different cultures can learn from one another and be enriched and transformed by what they learn.

As I am thinking of this model, it does not mean that one culture is assimilated into another or that their differences will disappear. Each culture will continue to be that culture. But a culture is not static. There is not an ideal form of the culture somewhere in the past which is to be forever preserved. Cultures change and grow, and one of the main causes is encounter with other cultures. These encounters are often destructive, but they need not be. A culture with sufficient confidence and rootage in its own traditions can adopt and adapt from other cultures in creative ways. As several cultures learn from one another, there are growing elements of commonality among them. But because that commonality emerges from divergent histories that remain alive, there is no homogenization.

With respect to cultural pluralism in the United States, I am subordinating this model to the ecological one. The assimilative force of the dominant culture is so great that few minority cultures are in position to learn from it without being absorbed by it. The immediate need is to strengthen the basis for a healthy pluralism. But one of the reasons for calling for such a healthy pluralism is that it provides a basis for growth and transformation on the part of each community. Out of such growth can come elements of unity that are not now present in any of the ethnic groups.

IV

What do these models imply for the church? They certainly imply that the church should support and nurture self-esteem in all of the ethnic groups that take part in its life. The church is already doing much in this direction. It gives visibility in leadership positions to representatives of diverse ethnic groups and includes their voices when decisions are being made.

Nevertheless, giving leadership to representatives of ethnic groups is not enough. Indeed it has its ambiguities. Almost inevitably, when members of nondominant ethnic groups are given high offices in the church, they are expected to act very much as holders of that office have always acted. In other words, the very ways we have of honoring ethnic groups works towards their assimilation into the dominant inherited pattern.

Critics speak of this as co-optation. They are not wrong. But when they imply that this a conscious strategy deliberately adopted by the majority in order to disempower the minority, they usually are wrong. I believe that the present leadership of the church is genuinely committed to ethnic empowerment but lacking in models other than assimilation and separation. To give leadership in the church is a form of assimilation. To form ethnic congregations tends to be a form of separation.

The ecological model would encourage a measure of separation at the congregational level but would then emphasize patterns of relationship among these congregations that are currently rare. The structure of our church brings congregations together at the district and conference levels, but it does not encourage networking of congregations with one another. If congregations of the dominant ethnic group seek out congregations of smaller ethnic groups, asking their assistance as well as offering help, the contribution to self-esteem, and to the building up of healthy pluralism, will increase.

We also have opportunities to contribute to self-esteem and support cultural pluralism in relating to ethnic groups outside the church. Some of these ethnic groups express their ethnicity and strengthen their cultural heritage through the traditional religions of their cultures. Appreciation for other religious traditions has grown dramatically among Christians, and this has already led to growing self-esteem among participants in these other traditions. Most of the initiative for relationship with these groups still lies in Christian hands, and many local churches can take such initiative. It may be even more important that when other religious groups approach us we respond positively.

Perhaps the most difficult place to strengthen the self-esteem of persons from other cultures is when they are part of the local congregation itself. The assimilative force of such membership is overwhelming, especially if there are only a few members of the ethnic group in the congregation. Indeed, assimilation is what they may want. If so, it would be absurd to discourage it or to make them feel guilty for this desire. The task then is simply to support self-esteem in this process. On the other hand, if they want to maintain separate cultural identity within the predominantly Anglo congregation, we can create opportunities for them to discuss this project with other members and teach the congregation about the values of their distinctive heritage. But realistically they must accept the fact that the congregtion will have the character of the dominant group.

The situation is different in the much rarer case when the congregation has no dominant group but is itself genuinely pluralistic. Here is an opportunity to experiment with both the ecological model and the evolutionary one. The ecological model suggests that diverse services of worship be offered to express the ethnicity of the several groups, although there would also be special occasions to celebrate the unity of the whole. It would suggest that the several groups accept diverse roles that all see as complementary and mutually supportive, serving one another.

The evolutionary model would allow a measure of separateness but would see the goal as evolving a form of worship that would be different from that of any of the traditions involved, yet fulfilling of the deepest concerns of each. Dialogue aimed not only at mutual understanding but also at mutual transformation would play a major role.

V

I began by suggesting that the church has the possibility of modeling for the larger society some healthy pluralistic patterns. I hope that I have suggested ways in which, to some extent, we are already doing that. I hope also that by offering models of what we are doing at our best, I can encourage that behavior. I do commend the ecological and evolutionary models to you, if both are used with due caution and the recognition of their respective dangers. I especially ask that all who affirm cultural pluralism sound the alarm about the new and critical threat posed by proposed new trade policies. While the church is modeling healthy models, it must ask that the government not take actions that will block their implementation.