Without a doubt, one of the most hackneyed words of the early 21st century is “transparency.” Probably because the Internet has had the effect of laying just about everything bare, we now demand that all government entities be “transparent.” That is, no decisions should be made in the shadows. No deliberation should ever take place out of sight from the public. There should be no mystery about how our elected officials do business in our behalf.
Our president came into office promising “transparent” government, because the public was tired of wasteful spending and corruption creep. Government at all levels is subject to “sunshine laws” which prohibit private discussions by elected officials about use of public funds. But the desire for transparency has extended well beyond government. Education law now requires transparency of the classroom and the teacher’s grade book, giving more power to parents to advocate for their children against their teachers. Facebook encourages the transparency of personal lives, sometimes to the point of personal danger. The selling of endless lists generated by Internet usage, shopping cards, and credit cards has created an alarming level of transparency about personal buying habits.
I’m all for openness and honesty. Transparency, however, is a different matter. Not long ago, New York Times columnist David Brooks wrote, “Society is too transparent. Since Watergate, we have tried to make government as open as possible. But as William Galston of the Brookings Institution jokes, government should sometimes be shrouded for the same reason that middle-aged people should be clothed. This isn’t Galston’s point, but I’d observe that the more government has become transparent, the less people are inclined to trust it.” (David Brooks NY Times, 2/19/10) He’s right. Transparency doesn’t engender trust; it breeds mistrust. I served in a locally-elected government position for seven years. It became painfully apparent to me that the more “transparent” we tried to be, the more we were accused of not being transparent. This is partly because full transparency is simply not possible without causing great harm. That’s why even the most aggressive sunshine laws stipulate exceptions to the rule – such as discussions about specific employees, the sale of property (in order not to undermine the bidding process), and pending legal matters. So, the promise of full transparency cannot be kept, leading to more distrust.
I think a more important reason, however, is that trust has already been eroded in other more profound ways, and in an atmosphere of mistrust, transparency cannot repair the erosion. In fact, it accelerates it.
We live in an era of entitlement. I have a right not to trust anyone but myself. I have a responsibility to assume the worst in others until they prove otherwise. My first obligation is to myself and those closest to me. In the age of entitlement, any sense of a higher good, a common purpose, let alone a social obligation to care for one another, has been shredded. We implicitly mistrust all politicians (nobody ever calls them public servants anymore) not just because we blithely assume that all politicians are corrupt, but because the very notion of representative democracy interferes with personal entitlement. Our whole system of government is designed to represent communities at every level of government. It is intentionally designed to prevent the inertia of direct democracy by entrusting decisions to a smaller group of people who are able to gain access to all relevant information and make an informed decision on behalf of their constituents as a whole, not as separate individuals.
Forgive the civics lesson – one which some may take issue with. What I am more interested in is a question I have been turning over in my mind for some time. Is God, who governs the universe, “transparent”? Is our Christian proclamation that God became flesh in Jesus of Nazareth a confession of the transparency of God? It occurs to me that many, if not most, of the complaints I have heard about God over the years have to do with God’s unwillingness to be more transparent. These complaints are usually expressed in questions: “Why does God allow bad things to happen to good people?” “Why doesn’t God just give me a sign so I know what to do?” “Where was God when I prayed for my sick child to live?”
I don’t think Jesus makes questions like these any easier to answer. Yes, Jesus revealed God in a new way, but who’s to say this new revelation hasn’t actually prompted more questions than answers about the Almighty? John A.T. Robinson called Jesus “the human face of God,” but that means God is easier to approach, not easier to fathom. In fact, Christian theology teaches that, through the Incarnation, our humanity became more transparent to God. Jesus is our Savior because, while he is the Son of God, he knows our human predicament from the inside out. Jesus, who called upon God as “Abba,” invites us to know God intimately. But that doesn’t mean we know everything about God. In church, we bow before the mystery of God. In fact, we sometimes revel in that mystery.
Given all the demand for transparency these days, I am amazed that a community of faith compensates me to live out a vocation that is largely concerned with keeping confidences and spending time alone in the study of the scriptures and prayer. Why do they let me do this? Because they trust me. (When a congregation starts demanding transparency from its pastor, trust is gone, and the ministry, in all likelihood, is over.) Of course, openness and honesty are important in a church community. Church leaders should not be acting secretively, decision-making processes should be above board, and “parking lot” meetings should not take the place of honest exchange of ideas and opinions. Subterranean agendas promoted through rumors and whispering campaigns have no place within a Christian community. But to the extent that we are relating to one another as brothers and sisters of Christ, we invite self-disclosure; we do not demand it. We practice hospitality and give people as much space as they need, always inviting each other into fellowship and shared ministry. We don’t run background checks on people who join the church. We don’t interrogate them. We simply welcome people. We practice trust. We build community. And in all things, we give glory to “immortal, invisible, God only wise.”
Copyright 2010 by J. Mark Lawson
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