Africa Reflections: Vuvuzelas

This is the second in a series of four reflections on my time in Africa:

I have to admit it, I was somewhat surprised to see how much attention the World Cup was getting when I made it back to the States. While it wasn't quite at the same levels as what I witnessed in South Africa, and really, how could it be, the amount of merchandising and media coverage surrounding the event surprised me. But what takes the cake, at least in my mind, is the amount of television coverage the games have been getting, something I never thought I'd see because soccer does the most unAmerican of things ... it doesn't allow for frequent commercial timeouts. However given all the coverage, one thing that doesn't surprise me is the general response to the vuvuzelas, also known as the freakishly annoying horns that buzz incessantly during every match. You see, for most of the last month that we were in Pretoria, the vuvuzelas were just as much a part of the World Cup build up as they are the event itself. For the first few nights, I felt like I needed to hide as I slept to avoid being stung to death by impending attack from the killer bees, but as the month wore on, and now for the games themselves, it's become more of a background annoyance, sort of like a dull headache that just won't go away. Now, matter how you view the constant buzzing, it's interesting to note how the lips behind the horns view themselves. For those armed with vuvuzelas and blowing as if their life depended on it, the horn isn't an annoyance, rather, it's their way of participating in the game ... it's part of what it means to be a fan. This strikes me as interesting, because the exact same action is perceived two entirely different ways, depending on who you are, and in one case, it's an important part of your identity as a fan, while on the other side, it's foundation to people's rejection of you. As I see it, this parallels an incident that happened about a year ago on the streets of downtown Denver. A fully legal Christian unity even called the Marcha de Gloria took place in a section of downtown where parades, fairs, and other such events typically happen. While I learned the details of what happened at the event the next day on denverpost.com, I'd gone looking to find out what was happening because of the posts that showed up in my Twitter stream during the event itself, posts that complained about Christians shutting down the streets and creating traffic problems. So, while the Christians marched, sang, and other otherwise celebrated their faith (you know, blew their vuvuzelas), what the world around them heard was a long, annoying, buzzing drone that said, "We don't respect your time." In some of the discussions that followed, my family and friends had reactions that fell into one of two basic camps. One one side you had those who defended the Christian's constitutional right to gather, march, and do all of the things they did. It's their right, as Americans, to blow their vuvuzelas, after all, just a few weeks earlier, one of the largest gay Pridefest gatherings in the nation took place on the same grounds, blocked off the same streets, and blew their vuvuzelas just as loud (actually, during the four years I lived five blocks from where these events happen, I can say that Pridefest tends to be the event where they're blown the loudest), so it's only fair that a Christian gathering receive the same time and consideration. Then there was the other side, which also happens to be were I reside. Now, I don't disagree that in the United States, Christians have just as much of a constitutional right to gather, march, sing or blow their vuvuzelas, however, I don't see that as being the main issue at hand, because I don't believe Christians should ever base on argument for their actions, be it the Marcha de Gloria or anything else, on their constitutional rights. I hold this position for two reasons, one theological and the second contextual. First, my theological argument. The simple point is that, for Christians, our lives are no longer about our rights, rather, the Apostle Paul describes us as slaves to Christ, or, as Luther said in the second half of his summary of the Christian life, "A Christian is a perfectly dutiful servant of all, subject to all" (On the Freedom of a Christian). So, rather than asking if it's our right to do something, Christians should be asking, "Does this love and serve my neighbor, or will I just be annoying people with the buzz of my vuvuzela?" Second, at least in the United States, Christians are not historically some fringe group that's been marginalized, rather, Christianity has always held a significant role in American public life, a role that's even greater if you argue America to be a Christian nation (read my thoughts on this here). Certainly Christianity is loosing the foothold that it once held, but this is a largely conscious decision by the broader culture. In other words, people are saying, "Christianity had it's time, we don't like what we're seeing, so let's try something else." As a result, when Christians press for their rights, they come across like the once popular girl in high school who took her social status for granted, lost her popularity, and is now begging for attention and insisting that she be made Prom Queen ... to jump analogies, what's heard is the annoying sound of never-ending vuvuzelas. Now, some might read this and hear me saying, "We should just conform to the culture around us not allow our beliefs to cause offense." But that isn't my argument at all, but I'll expand upon that next week when reflecting on laundry.

over 1 year ago JDart responded:

I'm sure you're growing accustomed to disagreement from me. I mean it in the spirit of Christian conversation, and hope it is received as such. If it helps, I probably agree more than I disagree, even though my disagreement is going to get more attention here.

I will agree that as Christians, our freedom is to be used to serve our brothers and sisters (Galatians 5, 1 Corinthians 8, Luther linked above).

But St. Paul appealed to his rights as a Roman citizen in Acts 16. Was that wrong? I don't hear you saying that we should conform to the culture, per se. I hear the opposite: that American Christians in particular should disregard their Constitutional rights, or when they're violated to simply roll over and take it. What's more, I hear that the relationship with government/authority is something of a one-way relationship. That is, be subject to it per Romans 13, but to work within the system for one's rights as a citizen (as St. Paul above or Jesus' example of the widow from Luke 18--understanding fully that her rights were not the point in his parable) are somehow out of bounds. In terms of this society, let the rest of the culture reap Constitutional benefits, but let the Christians merely be ruled.

(To be clear, Jesus promised troubles on account of faith, and ultimate victory over them on our behalf. It should never come as a shock to encounter antagonism to one's Christian faith. We have it on good authority to expect it. Would you agree that the increasingly dominant culture trends anti-Christian? To point to history as the evidence of marginalization, or more specifically to argue that a group really isn’t being marginalized, is kind of a moot point to me. It frankly doesn't matter if a group has been historically marginalized or not, if they're marginalized at all. The "historical marginalization" argument feeds the thought that a group perceived to be dominant frankly ought to be marginalized eventually to knock it down a few pegs and make way for the little guy. I don't know how quite to describe that thought--the words in my head are “social deconstruction.” “Social redistribution,” maybe?)

I suppose my issue is your use of "ever," as in, "...should ever base arguments...” above.

Ever and never are each a long time. Further, the Constitution is the document that charts the course of the nation in which we live as Americans—Christians and non-Christians alike. Ok, we don’t have to throw it in people’s faces how great and glorious it is to be Christians by throwing a big Christianity Pride festival. That would probably annoy me as a Christian. But I’d suggest a both/and approach to rights as a Christian. We have them, can appropriately press for them, but can also choose not to press for them in service to our neighbor. After all, there are times when pressing for rights is precisely about serving one’s neighbor.

over 1 year ago joe responded:

No problem Jason, taking time to listen to views other than your own is always healthy, if nothing else, to strengthen your own views. In this case, I'll agree that we're closer than apart. I'll admit, words like "always" and "ever" aren't helpful. I seek to avoid them, but my tendency towards hyperbole means they slips through sometimes. Moreover, in many settings, I'd be all for the both/and approach. I guess you could say this is an approach for such a time as this. Let me flesh that out.

In the end, these thoughts, as most things I write, flow from time I've spent with people outside the church, most of whom, at one point in their life, were connected to some branch of Christian tradition and made a choice to leave. As I've talked with them over time, my heart's been broken by how many of them attended church for years and never heard about grace, love, forgiveness, or anything else that ties in with the gospel. Rather, what they know of Christianity is judgment, hatred, exclusion, and everything else that ties with the law. Granted, you need both law and gospel, but nothing but law for years will leave you numb and resistant to anything else. Overcoming that numb resistance is my desire.

With that in mind, my comments about marginalization aren't about giving the little guys a chance or some other liberal agenda, rather, it's suggesting that Christians need to ask why this has happened. Were we given a position of authority and misused it? Have we placed law over gospel in our relationship with society? Did we forget our role as salt and light? If any of those things are true, fighting to regain our prior status only confirms that we've done those things and hardens our neighbor's false understanding of Christianity, and ultimately, Christ.

In my experience, forgetting about my rights and just seeking to serve has, over time, resulted in those who are opposed to Christianity asking me about my faith, what I believe, and what it means for me to be a Christian. While many still reject the faith because they have issues with the gospel itself, at least they are now stumbling on the one thing that should cause offense. Sadly, for many others, who like what they've heard, I've only been an exception to the rule of Christianity and they walk away because they can't imagine what I've talked about being true ... it's just too far from their experience and they're sure the hook's been baited.

But what if they didn't just meet me? What if they met an entire congregation of people in their neighborhood who challenged their false-understanding? Or what if they met three or four coworkers like this who all used the adjective Lutheran to describe their Christianity? What if they came to know the gospel not as the exception, but as the rule? It seems to me, those kinds of things are that resulted in the Early Church ascending to the place it did in society and gave it the voice that, hundreds of years later, many Christians assume is theirs by right.