In die Bybel praat Jesus met die gesiglose skare voor Hom daar op die berg op 'n verrassende manier: "Julle is die sout van die aarde." Dit is nou al daardie mense wat arm van gees is, wat honger en dors na geregtigheid, wat vervolg word. Hulle is die mense wat die aarde smaak gee. Sonder hulle het alles laf geword. Dit is hulle wat 'n samelewing sy sout werd maak.
Die spiritualiteit van Jesus is duidelik: Jou menslikheid word gedra deur die manier waarop jy in liefdesverhoudinge leef.
Hier onder is 'n artikel uit vandag se NYT wat die sosiale implikasies hiervan uitspel. Ek lees die artikel graag in 'n tyd dat ek nadink oor die kerk as die plek vir mense wat nie altyd in ons tyd hoog geag word nie. Trouens, in sommige gevalle lyk dit of die kerk wil wegkom van te noue assosiasie met ongerekendes van die aarde.
Die artikel spel uit wat gebeur wanneer 'n samelewing op sy kop gekeer word: in 'n verbruikersmaatskappy word menslikheid nie deur 'n eerbare deugdelike lewensstyl gevorm nie. Wie jy is, tel nie meer so veel as wat jy het en hoe jy daarmee uithang nie. Nie net wys mense spoggerig en trots af nie, maar diegene wat nie soveel het nie, laat toe dat hulle minderwaardig voel.
Ryk mense was in 'n menslike omgewing nie altyd trots op hul besittings nie. Sommige het dit selfs weggesteek. Hulle wil nie gemeet word aan wat hulle besit nie. 'n Mens van wysheid weet dat sulke uiterlikhede maak jou nie.
Wat my opval in die lesers-kommentaar op die artikel is die verhaal van 'n verpleegster wat vertel hoe sy beleef het dat 'n skatryk man alleen in 'n hospitaal gesterf het sonder dat sy kinders by hom was, teenoor 'n werker wie sy seuns hom met groot liefde op sy sterfbed bygestaan het.
Die ou volkswysheid druk dit uit: die vere maak nie die voël nie.
Hier is die artikel:
Religion and
Inequality
By DAVID BROOKS
His
father explained that he thought his son might one day go on to become a fine
doctor, but he had also seen loose tendencies. Some hard manual labor during
college would straighten him out.
Judd
took the train to the university, arrived at the station at 10:30 and by 12:15
had found a job washing dishes at the cafeteria of the Y.M.C.A. He did that job
every day of his first year, rising at 6 each morning, not having his first
college date until the last week of the school year.
Judd
went on to become a doctor, a daring medical missionary and a prominent member
of Congress between 1943 and 1963. The anecdote is small, but it illustrates a
few things. First, that, in those days, it was possible to work your way
through college doing dishes. More important, that people then were more likely
to assume that jobs at the bottom of the status ladder were ennobling and that
jobs at the top were morally perilous. That is to say, the moral status system
was likely to be the inverse of the worldly status system. The working classes
were self-controlled, while the rich and the professionals could get away with
things.
These
mores, among other things, had biblical roots. In the Torah, God didn’t pick
out the most powerful or notable or populous nation to be his chosen people. He
chose a small, lowly band. The Torah is filled with characters who are exiles
or from the lower reaches of society who are, nonetheless, chosen for pivotal
moments: Moses, Joseph, Saul, David and Esther.
In
the New Testament, Jesus blesses the poor, “for yours is the kingdom of God.”
But “woe to you who are rich, for you have already received your comfort.”
In
Corinthians, Jesus tells the crowds, “Not many of you were wise by worldly
standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. But God
chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak
things of the world to shame the strong.”
Under
this rubric, your place is not determined by worldly accomplishments, but
simply through an acceptance of God’s grace. As Paul Tillich put it in a
passage recently quoted on Andrew Sullivan’s blog, “Do not seek for anything;
do not perform anything; do not intend anything. Simply accept the fact that
you are accepted.”
This
inverse hierarchy took secular form. Proletarian novels and movies made the
working class the moral bedrock of the nation. In Frank Capra movies like “Meet
John Doe,” the common man is the salt of the earth, while the rich are suspect.
It wasn’t as if Americans renounced worldly success (this is America!), but
there were rival status hierarchies: the biblical hierarchy, the working man’s
hierarchy, the artist’s hierarchy, the intellectual’s hierarchy, all of which
questioned success and denounced those who climbed and sold out.
Over
the years, religion has played a less dominant role in public culture.
Meanwhile, the rival status hierarchies have fallen away. The meritocratic
hierarchy of professional success is pretty much the only one left standing.
As
a result, people are less ambivalent about commerce. We use economic
categories, like “human capital” and “opportunity costs,” in a wide range of
spheres. People are less worried about what William James called the “moral
flabbiness” of the “bitch-goddess success,” and are more likely to use professional
standing as a measure of life performance.
Words
like character, which once suggested traits like renunciation that held back
success, now denote traits like self-discipline, which enhance it.
Many
rich people once felt compelled to try to square their happiness at being
successful with their embarrassment about it. They adopted what Charles Murray
calls a code of seemliness (no fancy clothes or cars). Not long ago, many
people covered their affluence with a bohemian patina, but that patina has grown
increasingly thin.
Now
most of us engage in more matter-of-fact boasting: the car stickers that
describe the driver’s summers on Martha’s Vineyard, the college window
stickers, the mass embrace of luxury brands, even the currency of “likes” on
Facebook and Reddit as people unabashedly seek popularity.
The
culture was probably more dynamic when there were competing status hierarchies.
When there is one hegemonic hierarchy, as there is today, the successful are
less haunted by their own status and the less successful have nowhere to hide.
