Cultural values

Review: Dominion

/ rtrube54 / 4 Comments
Cover image of "Dominion" by Tom Holland

Dominion

Dominion, Tom Holland. Basic Books (ISBN: 9781541675599) 2021.

Summary: A history of Christianity describing its cultural and moral impact over two millenia from its shocking beginnings in a crucifixion.

Perhaps one of the most staggering observations Tom Holland makes in this massive book comes near the beginning:

“That a man who had himself been crucified might be hailed as a god could not help but be seen by people everywhere across the Roman world as scandalous, obscene, grotesque. The ultimate offensiveness, though, was to one particular people: Jesus’ own” (p. 6).

Whatever one thinks of Christianity, accounting for its rise, spread, and cultural impact is not easy to explain. The “scandal of the cross,” that its central figure, who died one of the most ignominious deaths, is revered and worshipped as “Lord” by nearly a third of the world’s population, is difficult to account for.

Tom Holland moves from these beginnings to explore the milieu within which Christianity arose and how one might account for its spread. He notes the radical inclusiveness of Paul’s message, cutting across ethnic and class distinctions and challenging the claims of empire. From here, he traces a sprawling history, from the early doctrinal controversies and councils all the way to the Beatles’ assertion that “all we need is love.”

The book does far more than chronicle the rise and spread of Christianity. It argues for the moral and cultural influence of Christian faith, a heritage he claims we continue to live off of in our secular age. However the history is not merely one of compelling ideas and exemplary moral figures, though we encounter much of this. We also encounter ruthless political and church leaders who extend the church’s influence by human might or detract from it by their corruption.

For example, consider the history of slavery and the church’s equivocal witness. Opposition to slavery can be traced back to Gregory of Nyssa:

“Gregory was moved by the existence of slavery not just to condemn the extremes of wealth and poverty but to define the institution itself as an unpardonable offence against God. Human nature, so he preached, had been constituted by its Creator as something free. As such, it was literally priceless. ‘Not all the universe would constitute an adequate payment for the soul o£ a mortal,’?” (p. 142).

Yet for centuries, the church assented and even offered theological defenses of slavery. But leaders of the same church, from Wilberforce in England to the abolitionists in the U.S. appealed to both creation and the gospel as a basis for eliminating slavery. Often, when the church failed to act, its sharpest critics, such as Nietzsche, use the church’s teaching to call out its failures.

The parade of figures to which he introduces us is breathtaking. One of those whose story I’d not known was Elizabeth of Hungary, a princess who dressed as a beggar and served under a tyrannical abbot. She alternated time between a kitchen and a hospital, caring for the poor. She died at twenty-four. Because of the reports of miracles, the church elevated her to sainthood. Her name was on the hospital where I was born.

Holland makes a compelling case for the impact of Christianity on cultures, from hospitals and universities, to the end of apartheid in South Africa. But I wonder if he stretches the case at times, such as in his discussion of Marxism. Yes, some have argued it a Christian heresy. However, its vile destructiveness in so many places makes me question that.

I also wrestled to keep the thread of his argument in the rapid succession of so many people and events. Despite the book’s size, this is actually not a large book considering the expanse of history Holland tries to cover. And in the modern period, he jumps from 1916 and Tolkien’s work to the Sixties, and then to the present. Inevitably, he must be selective. For example, he says nothing of Karl Barth or Reinhold Niebuhr. The latter deeply influenced George Kennan, the architect of the West’s policy of containment that brought the eventual fall of communism.

I think part of the problem is that the narrative proceeded by a series of vignettes, breaking up narrative continuity. Holland gets away with this by writing so well. However, based on what I’d heard, I expected a more compelling argument. Instead, I got one vignette after another. Each was engaging, and on reflection, they make a cumulative the case for Christian influence to this day. But what this pointed up to me was how hard it is to do what Holland attempts.

At the same time, his narrative and its implications do raise important questions in an era we call “post Christian.” Particularly, I wonder how long can we live off a Christian “legacy” before we exhaust it? And what then?

Growing Up in Working Class Youngstown — Working Class?

/ rtrube54 / 10 Comments

Recently, I received a comment on Facebook to one of my previous posts asking about the “working class” part of the title for these posts, and why that modifier. Why not just “growing up in Youngstown.”

That’s a fair question. I’m not interested in fostering class warfare by any means. And I realize that Youngstown when I was growing up was comprised of lots of people who were not “working class.” And strictly speaking, my father worked in sales and lower management positions in insurance and retail, as well as for a time, with a manufacturer who eventually moved out of the Youngstown area. If anything, he probably earned less most years than those in labor positions.

However, the physical, and social location that shaped me significantly was growing up on the lower West side, in the shadow of the mills. Most of the fathers on my street worked either in the mills or some other labor job. Likewise for many of the fathers of children in my elementary school. It was different by the time I got to Chaney, where some of the student body was from more middle class, and at the time, suburban parts of the West side. I was aware of the difference — in clothes and life experience.

This series of posts began when someone asked me what it was like growing up in working class Youngstown. It led to some thinking about the values and experiences that I think shaped many of our lives–from food to family to faith and values of hard work, self-reliance, and the love of beauty in a life that was often hard and harsh. We loved Mill Creek Park and Idora Park as oases from all the mills along the Mahoning River. We loved music, and dances, and art as things that made the hard work worth it. I don’t think we were alone in loving those things but I think they had a particular meaning for those of us who grew up in working class neighborhoods.

What has impressed me is how rich the life experiences of growing up in my working class neighborhood were. Sometimes I think “working class” or “blue collar” people are thought of as culturally impoverished. Yet my reading about these things points to “athenaeums” where workers took classes to improve themselves and their knowledge of the world. Some of the sharpest and most creative people I’ve met come from these backgrounds. In our neighborhood, many parents, though tired from work, cared about our homework, took us to libraries, and showed up at parent nights at school because they wanted us to succeed.

We may not have always traveled to far-flung places, but we appreciated a day at the lake, an overnight at Niagara Falls or staying in tourist cabins where we brought our belongings in shopping bags, and not fancy suitcases. I don’t think we thought much about what we didn’t have, but rather lived grateful for any enjoyment we could snatch from life that revolved around hard work at home or the factory.

So, while the things I write about have Youngstown as a common thread, when I write about things like field trips to Stambaugh Auditorium or neighborhood bars or family grocery stores, I’m writing out of the particular place and community within Youngstown where I grew up. I’ve had a lot of experiences since leaving the Valley and I work these days among highly educated folk. But I carry those “growing up” years in my heart and outlook on life.

Writing about it and interacting with so many who have shared these experiences has helped make more sense of life. A philosopher by the name of Kierkegaard once said that “life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.” Maybe another way of saying that is that understanding where you have come from helps you know where you must go. I hope these posts, and the conversations we have around them help us all a bit in that way.