“A Sacred Use of the Profane?”
I received a call from a colleague at a Christian university. As a professor in the university’s theater department, there had been a complaint about the language in a production of Arthur Miller’s All My Sons. Leaf through Miller’s text and you’ll find a few “damns” and “hells.” The complainer was incensed that the school would call itself “Christian” and yet offer such “secular” material to its patrons. And he came on quite strong, unsettling the student actors unfamiliar with how to respond to someone who saw no validity in offering a significant play in the American theater canon. There seemed little to dissuade him, it was the occasionally crude word that dismissed for him the possibility of redemptive engagement with the play and the cast. I was asked to help with a discussion within the department about the issues raised.
I began to gather my thoughts about how to approach such a disagreement concerning the possibility of the sacred use of the profane. The following is my beginning offering on the topic, originally presented at the CITA conference in Virginia Beach in the summer of 2003.
I would begin my portion of the discussion by raising the notion of the sacred nature of all deliberations, noting the seminal Abraham Joshua Heschel observation about “something being sacred in every event,” including the event we call “debate.” This would include not only deliberations about ecclesiastical structures, theological perspectives, and ethical conundrums, but also what in many circles might be considered “secular” disputes, like play aesthetics and the play selection processes of a theater. The exchange with the dismayed patron and the play participants was certainly over sacred territory and much could be mined in a mutually respectful exchange.
Secondly, I would address the point raised by philosophers, John Peck and Charlie Strohmer, in their wonderful introductory book on the integration of faith and life, entitled, Uncommon Sense. They note that the Bible gives FIVE different reasons why Israel did not possess the Promised Land quickly and fully. This multiple explanations approach provides an alternative model to the “one-explanation syndrome” Peck and Strohmer deem as often hindering a biblical wisdom in understanding the times. The FIVE reasons for Israel’s failure are as follows:
A TECHNOLOGICAL REASON (Judges 1:19) Israel did not have sufficient armament. The text says that they “took possession of the hill country, but they were unable to drive the people from the plains because they had iron chariots.” At the time the infantry of Israel was no match for the iron chariots of the Canaanites. Interestingly enough, the description is preceded by the assuring pronouncement that “The Lord was with the men of Judah.” It is as if the writer wants readers of Israeli history to avoid the temptation of simplistically assuming that military stagnations are only caused by the withdrawal of Yahweh’s presence. In addition, the reader must note that not every military and cultural deficiency in ancient Israel invoked a miraculous intervention from Yahweh’s hand.
A SOCIOLOGICAL REASON (Judges 1:28-2:3) This passage accuses the people of Israel of disregarding the command of Yahweh to drive out the various Canaanite people from the land, stating they have “disobeyed me” in not tearing down pagan “altars” and by living in “covenant with them” (2:2). God’s response was to inform them that, essentially, neither would He drive them out (2:3). And the reason? So that the Canaanite peoples would become “thorns in their side” and their gods would become “snares.” The result would be that Israel would learn by experience the sociological lesson of the cultural devastation brought about by premature social/cultural integration.
An EDUCATION/PSYCHOLOGICAL REASON (Judges 2:22-3:5) The Lord explicitly states that some Canaanite peoples remained in the land so that Israel would gain battle experience and military savvy through the inevitable conflicts between the two peoples. There were lessons to be learned in war, and the people of Israel had yet to learn them.
A RELIGIOUS REASON This is typically the single answer provided by most believers familiar with Israel’s history. It is almost customary to point to the nation’s “disobedience” (Judges 3:7) and their failure of faith (Judges 10:10, 13). This is typically seen as the single cause of their inability to drive the Canaanites from the land.
AN ECOLOGICAL REASON (Deuteronomy 7:22) The text says that the Lord will drive them out “little by little,” not allowing the Israelites to drive out their enemies “all at once.” The reason given is that the population of “wild animals” would rapidly increase with the decrease in human population. Without the sufficient number of human predators, the number of wild animals would grow dangerously large.
Again, Peck and Strohmer’s primary point is that multiple explanations for complex issues are vital for developing biblical wisdom.
In the conflict over the production of All My Sons, a “multiple explanations” approach can also be considered. Such an approach may assist participants in resisting the temptation to prematurely dismiss orientational opponents and come to a mutually engaging place that leads to peace, mutual edification, and a more God-glorifying aesthetic vision.
Consider the following:
One explanation is tied to an observation that might pose as a lesson in biblical SOCIOLOGY, found in Romans, chapter 14. Paul was attempting to preserve the “unity of the body in the bond of peace” by helping Christians on differing sides of several issues get along. Paul was not interested in superficial peace amongst the believers, but was desirous of helping differing factions understand the overarching truths that underscored the fact of their positional unity and allowed for the fact of their permissible differences. One of those overarching truths was that Christians were to trust that those believers who differed from them in certain “scruples”—be it “eating meat offered to idols” or “observing certain holy days”—were doing these things “as unto the Lord.” But the sociological principle that might assist us in future discords, is that those with the more liberal orientation, those described as having “stronger” faith (those who eat meat offered to idols, those who treat every day alike) have a tendency to condescend to those of weaker faith (those who disagree with them). Paul describes it “as looking down” on those who only “eat vegetables.” Conversely, those who St. Paul describes as having “weaker” faith, those who have a deep conviction prohibiting them from eating meat offered to idols, those who rigorously participate in special holy days, have a tendency to condemn those who disagree with them or those whose behavior doesn’t confirm their convictions. Paul said “don’t look down,” and “don’t condemn.” You can see this “sociological” pattern in our contemporary political landscape. Those closer to the conservative end of the spectrum have a tendency to condemn their policy opponents; conversely, those closer to the liberal end of the spectrum have a greater tendency to condescend to theirs.
St. Paul, dealing with the same issue, when addressing the Corinthian church, says in chapter 8:2, “We know that we all possess knowledge.” The Corinthians were people on both sides of the issue of whether or not a believer was permitted to eat meat sacrificed to idols. He then puts forth an oft-quoted maxim: “Knowledge puffs up, love builds up.” Clearly, people on both sides of the issue regarding crude dialogue in stage plays are confident that they have adequate “knowledge,” assuming their orientational “opponents” would be benefited by a perspective transformation. We, the “artistes,” are lovingly desirous of imposing our worldview and aesthetic “insight” upon the reactionary, fundamentalist, Christ-against-culture Neanderthal. From the opposite end of the spectrum, we, the kingdom “vanguard,” are desirous of imposing our vision of cultural sanctity upon the liberal “crossovers” more interested in relevance than holiness. We all “know” that we possess clarifying, convincing, and threateningly compelling “knowledge.” The results, after a typically unsuccessful attempt at converting the “ignorant” or “libertine” are sociologically speaking, an entrenchment of separate, incestuous worlds of fellowship.
St. Paul clearly indicates that such “knowledge” leading to a conviction about any controversy in unavoidable—people are typically not without explanation for their positions. But, and here’s the rub, St. Paul reminds his readers that such “knowledge,” as natural, necessary and correct as it may be, is never an end in-and-of-itself. It is always to be a means toward making us more loving people—lovers of God (which makes us “known” by God, vs. 3) and lovers of orientational opponents. Without this overarching vision of ultimacy, without love as the informant of knowledge, the “knowledge” itself becomes a justifier of alienation between Christians and a calloused destroyer of souls (v. 11).
Here is another observation from the text in 1 Corinthians 8, which, along with Romans 14, provides a biblical context for approaching controversial matters where agreement is not absolutely necessary. It is important to note that much like the very public nature of our arena as theater artists, the controversy over eating meat sacrificed to idols could also have a very public battleground. Those who had a “stronger” faith, (those whose conscience was not wounded by eating meat sacrificed to idols), did not always eat such sacrifices in the privacy of their own home. St. Paul says that some of the stronger Christians ate their meat in the temple of the idol (v. 10), and, thus, the “weaker” Christian, whose conscience could be wounded, not only witnessed the purchase of the sacrifice, but the disregarding, satisfied faces of the eater. St. Paul went on to say that this highly visible demonstration of Christian freedom (v. 9) might well prematurely “embolden” (v. 10) a “weaker” believer to break with the dictates of his conscience and so “defile” himself.
Note the possibility of a “weaker” brother in a contemporary situation, prematurely, and without sufficient understanding, misconstruing Christian “liberty” and biblical “bondedness to aesthetic wisdom” as an invitation to impurity of mind and speech.
A second explanation is a principle of literary interpretation. Audiences, including audiences of the Bible, are to distinguish between what is presented as merely descriptive from that which is prescriptive. The rape of David’s daughter by her step-brother is part of the biblical narrative (2 Samuel 13). But it is clearly descriptive, not prescriptive. The story describes the results of wayward disregard of the law of God. It does not condone, distort, or minimize the causes and costs of sinful attitudes and behaviors. Many of the plays that are part of the Western theater canon, All My Sons included, would clearly fit into this category of literary policy. Francis Schaeffer, the late Christian evangelist, described this as the “minor theme” of the Bible. If the major theme was the presentation of process that led to the ultimate triumph of Christ, the minor theme is the truthful description of the consequences of sin. Both themes are legitimate subjects for the believing artist.
A third principle in this “multi-explanation approach,” might be labeled social-psychological: John Peck has made the observation that there appears to be an unavoidably arbitrary and inconsistent nature of any cultural system rigidity. The church of the ante-bellum South, evangelical in nature, explicit in its advocacy of moral purity, became an institutional bastion of cultural racism. The contemporary fundamentalist church, with all its laudatory emphasis on personal sanctity, evangelism, and its “high view” of scriptural authority, has failed in past decades to adequately condemn the sins of greed and racism. Jesus of Nazareth’s contemporary opponents, the Pharisees and teachers of the Law, tithed faithfully—giving a tenth of their spices; but in the process were shown that their rigid devotion to legal minutia prevented them from seeing the more significant issues behind the law—justice, mercy, and faithfulness (Matthew 23:23ff). This is true of any rigid fundamentalism, even secular fundamentalisms. Note the PETA rigidities, the Politically Correct rigidities, the Feminist rigidities, the Christian Coalition rigidities, the rigidities of any theological, philosophical, artistic, or cultural system. It does not mean that we must demolish all rigid “sticking points” and, thus, obliterate the possibility of absurd inconsistencies. It only means that we need to recognize these inherent paradoxical pressures as a segment of the necessary messiness of life’s journey and, with the recognition, make sure we don’t major in the absurdity. It is impossible to completely avoid the tendency to “strain at gnats and swallow camels.”
A fourth contextual explanation in our multi-explanation approach is more in line with a description of prophetic ministry. Heschel describes the prophet as being “stunned by man’s fierce greed,” and, as a result, has a tendency to “feel fiercely.” This “fierceness” can be revealed in their obediently profane descriptions of the profaneness of a culture. Such descriptions are rarely the source of public readings of scripture, or appropriate for children’s sermons. Ezekiel especially is not fit for the pristine boundaries of our church sanctuaries. Note his description of the spiritual harlotry of both Samaria and Jerusalem in chapter 23. The unchaste sexual pursuits of two sisters, Oholah (Samaria) and Oholibah (Jerusalem) are chronicled: they have chased after lovers in Assyria, Egypt, and Babylon. The cyclical pattern of their lusts is described, blinding passion, inevitable betrayals and anguish, and finally a short-lived disgust. But, ultimately, their lascivious passions are resurrected. Objects of their blindly focused lusts are explicitly described by Ezekiel (v. 20) as foreigners with genitals “like those of donkeys,” and genital emissions “like those of horses.” (Perhaps, kids, it’s time to be dismissed for “children’s church.”) Also note that Ezekiel states that her “promiscuity” increased as she recalled “the days of her youth, when she was a prostitute in Egypt” (19:23). This speaks to the preying, possessive nature of certain sexual encounters, exalted in one’s memory as the standard by which all subsequent experiences are judged. It is the nature of the addictive personality to seek an exacting reoccurrence, thus minimizing the ability of the addicted to immerse in the unique “pleasure” of the offered “now.” Another thought to consider is the “memories of youth” being a source of mortality crisis, the existential threat of aging and associated sexual disability. In the words of Jerry Lee Lewis, “trying to prove he still can.”
Also note the profaneness of Ezekiel’s God-ordered depiction drama in chapter four. After depicting the assault and destruction of Jerusalem, essentially a crude sand-box fashioning of the city and the prophetic detail of its conquest—miniature battering rams, and attack ramps—Ezekiel is commanded by the Lord to bake bread made of wheat and barley, beans and lentils, millet and spelt. The baking fuel to be used in the sight of all the people is to be human excrement, (v. 12), “excrement,” “crap,” feces, if you will. I can imagine a good many citizens of Jerusalem walking several blocks out of their way to avoid exposing their children to such an untidy dramatic depiction. Ezekiel protests in v. 14: “Not so, Sovereign Lord! I have never defiled myself. From my youth until now I have never eaten anything found dead or torn by wild animals. No unclean meat has ever entered my mouth.” The Lord relents and allows Ezekiel to bake his bread (his “hand prop”) with cow manure instead of human excrement as fuel (v. 15). What a concession. Although, the text explains the usage of the “excrement” as symbolic of Israel’s being forced at His hand to eat defiled food in a foreign land (v. 13), I can’t help but note another implication and associated meaning. The picture describes Israel’s self-sustaining sustenance, that food which keeps it alive and self-confidently vibrant, as being fueled/baked by feces.
The point is that Christians should not automatically dismiss the prophetic possibilities of an art work because its topic or language wouldn’t be appropriate for a Sunday School picnic. Ezekiel wouldn’t be invited either, and, perhaps, appropriately so.
And a 5th contextual explanation is the simple AESTHETIC principle of “fittingness.” If we were watching a movie about a 21st century alcoholic roofer—alienated from his wife and his catechism class—we would find it aesthetically unfitting if, after hitting his thumb with his hammer, the roofer shouted, “Ouch, that hurt!” It would immediately end our “willing suspension of disbelief,” and, thus, pressure us to dismiss it as inauthentic.
Unless Christian playwrights and screenwriters are only going to write about pristine aristocrats from any generation but their own, they will be forced to touch the profane.
I have attempted to offer a multi-explanation approach to addressing the debate about profane language in stage plays. Often when bringing this up with my students, they feel cheated because I have not definitively pronounced whether or not they can follow the Lord and use an occasional curse word or confidently audition for a David Mamet (or Arthur Miller) play. Even though I have a strong opinion, my stronger, guiding conviction is that faithful residents of God’s Kingdom can disagree on these matters without finding self-justification for condemning or condescending to their orientational opponent.
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