Words'nTone

Let me clarify again—the subject is the issue of poverty and how we utilize, what I consider, the private vs. public dichotomy in order to position ourselves and our responsibilities regarding the economically vulnerable and the poor. This dualism obviously has two sides, in which we find a convenient argument or policy or belief to split the two sides as somehow mutually exclusive to some degree, depending on how much we want to separate the two just to make our point and hold on to our position. It is my contention that we split the private and the public into neat, exclusive categories so we can feel safe, protected, and define the parameters of responsibility. It is this dualism of the so-called private sphere vs. the public sphere that allows for both sides (e.g. red and blue, conservative and liberal, citizen and state, church and government) to set limits on responsibility and roles.

For my purposes, I am not concerned as to who is responsible for developing social services or charity or even community action on behalf of the poor. My chief concern here is how this dualism, that is private vs. public, is faulty and used in ways that promote the well-being of the non-poor more than the benefit of the poor. Although I certainly believe this dualism is used by the state and by my more socially liberal friends (perhaps unknowingly for many), here, I am primarily concern in how Christians and the Christian community utilize this dualism to their benefit, making it an idolatry of power. In my book, Destroying Our Private Cities, Building Our Spiritual Life, I start my exposition on Paul’s letter to the Philippians within the context of our love affair with “our privacy.” I write:

My girl friend from college was staying with her sister and brother in law for the weekend. She was on an assignment for her course in child psychology. Her project: Observe how little children interpret the world around them.

One of the observations was unplanned. Her four year old nephew, Ben, unashamedly opened the bathroom door and entered, to the surprise of his aunt. Although a bit startled, his aunt was able to use the occasion to help Ben understand the concept of privacy.

“Ben, when people close the door, that means they would like to have their privacy.” Ben acknowledged his aunt’s instruction and went his way. The issue seemed to be settled.

Later that afternoon, Ben’s mother noticed his bedroom door closed. That was a bit unusual, she thought. She proceeded to open it to check on her son.

“Ben, are you all right?” she asked in a tone of concern.

Ben looked up and in a matter of fact voice said, “Mom, I closed my door because I want my own private city.”

That serendipity is as instructive as it is winsome. It is both appropriate and polite to respect another’s privacy. But there comes a time in a culture when the concept of privacy can hinder the equally appropriate sense of community. It can stifle cooperative participation in the responsibilities of the community. Attitudes such as my world, my choice eventually produce the pursuit of personal fulfillment. Like young Ben, people today seem to crave their own private city.

This plague of privacy has had a devastating impact on the Church and its mission. North American Christians have embraced our culture’s fascination for privacy, at the same time ignoring its consequences. Because we treasure our “private cities,” we are governed not by the will of God or the Scriptures but by personal fulfillment. And we view life from a very narrow perspective. Our Christianity becomes trivial and private because we relegate it to the private sphere of our lives.

Guinness, in his book The Gravedigger File, laments that Christianity to the believer . . . was once life’s central mystery, its worship life’s most awesome experience, its faith life’s broadest canopy of meaning as well as its deepest guarantee of belonging. Yet today, where religion still survives in the modern world, no matter how passionate or “committed” the individual believer may be, it amounts to little more than a private preference, a spare time hobby, a leisure pursuit. This worship of privacy has had devastating consequences for the Church’s participation in the missionary task.

The American habit of privatization and our love affair with the so-called constitutionally protected right of privacy hinders the Christian and Christian community from truly engaging the issue of poverty. We are conditioned to split responsibilities and roles into the private and public catagories. In the end, because of this idolatry we are not free to evaluate openly the issues of poverty and the biblical texts regarding poverty.

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The Private vs. Public Dualism 1 of 4, 2 of 4

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