Over the weekend I
attended the opening night of Arthur Miller's play The Crucible at The Young
Peoples Theatre Newcastle. The direction, by a very young Nick
Thoroughgood, emphasised fear and aloneness. But the aspect of the play that
struck me anew was the way religion was co-opted by an agenda of power and
subsequently made impotent.
Do you recall the
general plot? Set amidst the Salem Witch Trials of 1692, the play follows a
group of young girls who claim divine/demonic knowledge in their accusation
that many people in their rural village are in league with Satan. The fate of
one man, John Proctor, unfolds … from his affair with one of the young girls,
through the struggles of forgiveness with his wife, his attempt to disclose the
girls' pretence in court and a moral dilemma that leads to his hanging.
The play begins in
the house of the local preacher, the Rev. Samuel Parris, a man cautious of his
own reputation, who hopes to avoid the scandal of being associated with
witchcraft. He calls for help from another cleric, the Rev. John Hale, who is
acknowledged as an expert in such matters. Between them they promote the
church's authority to uncover and prosecute "the other" -- in this
case the vile offenders who, apparently, have sold their soul to the devil.
As has been widely
noted, the play has wider application than simply being a historic comment on
seventeenth century Puritan superstition. That the message is universal is made
clear by the Nick Thoroughgood's decision to re-dress the actors in pure black
and white for Acts 3 and 4. In the cultural context of 1953, when it was
published, the play challenged the extreme pressure in the USA to denounce
Communists, but it does not matter whether the accusation is witchcraft or
Communism, nor whether the accusation is true or false. What is really on trial
beyond the fourth wall is the process of "othering" -- the human
propensity to accuse and exclude; the futility of fear-driven victimisation.
At the beginning of
this victimisation is religion. Religion spreads a cloak of morality over the
fear and suspicion. Religion gives permission to exclude, and adds divine
authority to the denunciation of the "other". Neither Parris nor Hale
initially accused anyone of witchcraft. Parris was motivated by pride and the
protection of his own social standing. Hale wished to be led by the evidence
towards the truth. But both were coerced by social pressure, mislead by pride,
and beguiled by the taste of power. Neither was immune to the growing hysteria,
but instead fanned its flames and were swept along by its ineluctable fury.
In Act 4, both
Parris and Hale show the compassion and mercy that is more true to their
calling. They realise the girls' pretence. They understand the emptiness of
admissions made under the threat of death. They plea for leniency. But it is
too late. The fire has burnt beyond their control. Having served their own
demonic purpose, Parris and Hale are side-lined and impotent. Having ignited
fear and judgement, religion has ceased to be authoritative or even relevant.
Is this not a
pattern we have all seen repeated? Isn’t this what has happened within Islam --
where terrorists claim religious motivation regardless of how strongly Islamic
leaders denounce them? Isn't it what is happening in Australia as religious
voices accuse and damn homosexuals? Isn't it clear from the conservative
Christian support of Donald Trump and his obvious contempt of their support?
Religion is often
co-opted by causes that are deeply irreligious … but religion allows itself to
be so used.
The Christian church
has been side-lined in the Western world and hopelessly compromised, as it has
been by every regime and culture since Constantine. It is too late to reclaim
any respect. The church is compromised by sex abuse scandals, paternalism, patriarchy
and violence. But that is not the root. As The
Crucible demonstrates, the essence of the church's inability to sway
public sentiment away from hysteria towards justice and mercy is that, having
been instrumental in starting the fire, she is no longer needed. Once the
flames of fear, judgement and damnation have been ignited, the "powers and
principalities" -- whether political or spiritual -- can fuel them
independently, with or without religious endorsement.
The only way out is
to never buy into the devilish deal in the first place. If we deliberately and
explicitly recant our allegiance to every source of power, to every social
movement, to every nation and culture, then we might have the integrity to be
heard. The role to which the church is called is to subvert every "power
and principality". Like Christ, who didn't think that the power of heaven
was something to be grasped, the church is called to forsake all power. Rather
than seek power only to become impotent, the way of the gospel is to join the
powerless from beginning to end.
If the Reverends
Parris and Hale had followed that example -- if they had stood with the girls
instead of condemning their youthful follies, and if they had stood with those
accused of witchcraft instead of pandering to the later accusations of those
same girls -- then two things would have happened differently. The fire of
hysteria and fear would not have enough oxygen to take hold. And if the crunch
time still came about when justice was on the brink of failure, then the voice
of true religion, of compassion, would have retained the credibility to be
heard.
May we yet learn to
forsake power and to stand in solidarity with the accused.
way back about 1985. It's a humourous saga in the same genre as Gulliver's Travels, in which a lost traveller finds a land where physical sickness is punished but criminals are given medical attention.
. In that book and other readings at the time I learnt a lot about the retributive principle behind most modern law but also that there are other approaches to justice, including approaches that focus on restoration rather than punishment.
to understand Jesus' death from a non-retributive point of view.
