Walter Brueggemann was an American Christian scholar and theologian who is widely considered an influential Old Testament scholar. His work often focused on the Hebrew prophetic tradition and the sociopolitical imagination of the Church. He argued that the Church must provide a counter-narrative to the dominant forces of consumerism, militarism, and nationalism.
I have no idea if this is the same book as his "Peace," which is a newer title. Both are in print and available from Amazon. If they aren't, I'll have to pick that one up. My father studied under Brueggemann at PSR in the 60s, so he's got most of his books and I've been borrowing them, but not "Peace."
This is an interesting book. Bruggemann fascinates and repels me, and I'm finding his books equal measure great and awful, oftentimes with both categories swinging me back and forth on a sentence by sentence basis. The first chapter of this book is just stellar, but then chapters 2-9 left me cold, and I left them feeling like I wasn't much closer to understanding the meaning of "shalom" than before I started it. And then chapters 10-15 were stellar again. And then the last chapter, chapter 16, is a trainwreck, in which he bangs the healthcare drum, and in which his statism is really evident.
Yet I have a nagging doubt. If we are to cling tight to everything Brueggemann says we would have to assume that the ancient Scriptures were a foil for Liberation Theology propaganda and false dichotomies like "freedom" vs "chaos," the struggle between "vision" and "order." Sure, some of that is going on, but I didn't pick the book up about that. I picked it up to learn about Shalom, and here at the end of Brueggamann's vision I am faced with the fact that were I a pastor or gathering of Elders trying to implement his vision in my Church, I wouldn't know where to start, because everything is so vague. The only thing I'd come away with is that Shalom is "inclusion" of the outcasts, of everybody who is unlovely and "other." And we are supposed to do that, but by "inclusion" Brueggemann means radical feminist Pastors like his crazy wife, unrepentant homosexuals and others, the inclusion of whom are strongly implied in this book (for a good idea of his idea of inclusion, just look at his mess of a denomination, the UCC). Guess what? The Church is supposed to bring in homosexuals, the oppressed, the confused, the broken, the hurting - but there is one exclusion: unrepentance. There are those who have a weakness and failing in the area of homosexuality, but the sorts of homosexuals you see in churches like the UCC aren't there to "go and sin no more." They're there to "make a stand." And that they may not do.
I just get the feeling that Brueggemann is reflecting a lot of his own ideas onto the Scriptural texts - which shouldn't necessarily surprise us since one of the books he references positively in the notes at the end is called "The Social Construction of Reality." He seems to define this freedom of Shalom as a radicalized Liberation Theology war on the status quo, whatever that status quo is. Perpetual revolution. But if we're dealing with freedom and oppression, justice and injustice we sure shouldn't get our ideas about it from someone ensnared by the slavery of the misnamed Liberation movement. Someone whose definition of injustice does not include defending the life of the unborn children of the world is someone who has made a mockery of the word. But then again, there is good in the book too - you just have to apply the Biblical definition of "justice" and "injustice." There is genuine meat here, especially in the chapters I mentioned above, and I'm going to continue reading his stuff. As I said, I find him both stimulating and frustrating.
Halfway through the reading of "Living Toward a Vision," I happened to flip to the front of the book and discovered it was written in the 1970's. Normally, this wouldn't be cause for comment, but here, Brueggemann has managed to write about the philosophical and practical meaning of shalom in a way that still spoke to issues in Christianity today. I repeat: it's 2017 and this book is still and perhaps more important than it was in 1976. It immediately made me feel the same gripping feeling that I got when I read Amusing Ourselves to Death: Public Discourse in the Age of Show Business and realized that it had more to offer to the internet age than its original audience. How can these authors manage to be so timeless (or maybe ahead of their time)?
I think perhaps it is because Brueggemann centers around social justice in Christianity -- how it has always been an integral part of God's interaction with humanity -- and this still speaks to us today, more than ever. The world today cries for justice. And at the same time, there are powerful forces that hate justice, obstruct justice, and in fact, need injustice to continue in power. At one end, there is apathy for the oppressed, at the other there is oppressors who love that apathy. Yet, there are people in this world today who are crying for justice -- for women, for immigrants, for DACA, for refugees, for Syria, and for many more reasons. Brueggemann offers that this has always been the case, and the answer has always been: God hears. God hears, god acts, god gives.
He frames most of his points around the Israelites' slavery in Egypt. They cry out for justice, for a different way of life, and God intercedes in their behalf. In this scenario, he is a God who hears his people and actively does something as a response. He is not content to sit back, he is not content to let injustice happen. If Christianity today was only less concerned with government, policies, personal gain, liberalism, conservatism, and everything in between, I believe that we would see a Christianity like that God. Christianity hears. Christianity is not content to let injustice happen and does not reason away people who are hurting. Christianity acts.
And that is where the main premise of shalom intersects with the social-justice-theme. Brueggeman talks about shalom as a community where all are valued, and he poses that this should be the posture of the church. You must be a shalom person, and the church must be a shalom community. I think the main point to take away from shalom is being heard. For churches to claim they have shalom, they must hear the doubts, ideas, hurts, and joys of all members -- the poor, the sick, the young, the old... everyone. EVERYONE. And the concept of hearing is so profound in a world where the millennials are predicted to be "the loneliest generation." What if you could be heard? What if your struggle was not only acknowledged but prompted action? What if you had shalom?
If Christianity is to mean anything to the generations to come (which I believe it will), it will be through the efforts of those who hear, those who act, and those who do it because God did it first. It will not be through how long we can talk, how we look, how much clout we have, but through what we do for those in slavery.