Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Should a Christian Display a Portrait of Robert E. Lee?

Don’t read this post. That’s right. I don’t want you to read this post. What I’d much rather have you do is click over to Russell Moore’s post today regarding whether a Christian should display a picture of Robert E. Lee in their home.

Dr. Moore is the Dean of the School of Theology and Senior Vice-President for Academic Administration at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. From time to time on his blog, Moore to the Point, he posts ethical questions he’s received, allows time for readers to give their feedback and then gives his own answer. His answers inevitably display a depth of gospel wisdom that almost makes me wish I was a Baptist.

Today’s post was, in my opinion, the best answer of his that I have read to date. He makes one great point after another. Again, I really would urge you to read the whole article, but if you must have the abridged version, here are some of the highlights:

He argues against the oversimplification of historical figures and warns us against both demonizing those we see as “villains” and canonizing those we see as “heroes.”
The fetishistic use of historical figures is precisely what leads to the kind of “absolute good vs. absolute evil” characterizations we often see among Christians in the way they view current leaders…That’s the kind of hagiography that led to George Washington’s cherry tree inability to tell a lie. Well, George Washington was a great man, but he was also a liar. And so am I, and so are you. Unless there was a star shining over Washington’s birthplace (and there wasn’t), then Romans 3:10-19 applies to him as well as to all of us.
So should a Christian display a picture of Robert E. Lee in their home?
I don’t know. I can’t tell you one way or the other because what’s more important than a single picture is the general ethos of a home…The issue is love of neighbor and the mission of Christ. That’s why the Apostle Paul refuses to lay down simple rules about eating vegetables or eating meat (Rom. 14:1-23). If that picture would hinder your being able to show hospitality and love with your brothers and sisters of every background and race, take it down.

But, if you keep it up on the wall, let it be, like every historical portrait, a warning…(For) a gentleman as devoted to character as Robert E. Lee, who had thought long and hard about the evils of slavery, was so conditioned by his time that he couldn’t see past his blind spot. So what makes me think that I could have escaped a similar blind spot? And what is so common in our culture right now that we can’t even see it, as we think we’re serving the Lord?
Moore concludes with this:
Robert E. Lee was a complicated figure, a sinful rebel (in more ways than one) who bore the image of God. And so are we. Lee was gifted in commendable ways even as he used those gifts sometimes in ways that ought to horrify. So do we. We ought to be honest, in both directions, about Lee and about our neighbors and ourselves. And that ought to cause us to search out our own lives for that hidden sin, that secret hatred, that conforming to the pattern of this age that we don’t see and don’t think to ask about. Ultimately, no matter how we seek to whitewash our heritage or our personal stories, we’ll only conquer it all at the resurrection from the dead. Until then, we watch our hearts, pray for wisdom, work for justice, and love our neighbor.

Deep in my heart, I do believe that we shall overcome some day.

2 comments:

Unknown said...

What does that mean "sometime in ways that horrify"? Without raising the question of the virtues of secession, let us remember that according to the dominant political/philosophical views of the day, secession was (until Lincoln) deemed a right reserved by the states through the 10th Amendment (not to mention the acts of the various legislatures which asserted their right to secede as a precondition of acceding to the Union. Indeed, CS General John Pemberton of PA stated that his reason for becoming a Yankee general in the Confederate Army was that, as a cadet at West Point his civics classes asserted that the Union was a "voluntary compact of the several States" and was not inviolate. Gen'l Lee, having been offered command of the Federal Armies by Lincoln, declined, stating that as a citizen of Virginia (there was no such thing as US citizenship until the 14th Amendment), he was duty bound to resign his commission in the US Army and go to Richmond to defend his homeland.

If we're going to talk about actions that horrify, how's about we look at the Yankees who, for the 1st time in centuries, engaged in total war of a type that was not repeated until the Axis Powers began their wars of conquest in the 1930s.

The real question at hand, I should think, is whether or not we will violate the consciences of those whom we wish to have in our homes. Perhaps, too, a discussion of the 2nd Commandment might be appropriate. But to say that Lee did things that horrify? I have no idea to what the author refers. How is it horrific to wage an honorable defensive war in response to the aggressive depredations of an implacable, invading foe? inquiring minds want to know.

(PS-- Pete, I assume you directed me to this to get me wound up. Mission accomplished. :-)

Deo Vindice.

Pete Scribner said...

Austin, I didn't send you this to get you riled up (although that does sound like something I might do!), but rather to get your feedback.

I don't know exactly which things he did, but the statement that Lee did things that ought to "horrify" us needs to be taken in the context of the very next sentence which succinctly states, "So do we." I think the gist of what he was saying at that point was simply that all sin is horrifying compared to the holiness of God and that we are all horribly guilty.

Did you just read my post or did you read the original blog entry by Moore? He is a Southerner (capital S intended) with many positive things to say about Lee (some of which you mentioned). You'd probably get a better feel for what he's saying by reading the whole thing, which (I reiterate) I really feel was well done.