Board of Contributors: 'Rooting out evil' is dangerous business Board of Contributors: 'Rooting out evil' is dangerous business (November 03, 2004)

by Nancy McGaraghan

Here is the church. Here is the steeple. Open the doors and here are all the people."

I remember saying this little childhood jingle with my friends. We used our hands: extended index fingers are the steeple raised up high, the thumb-doors open wide and the inward-folded wiggly fingers are the rows of people inside.

Older, we left our fingers outside of the "church," and smirked: "Open the doors and where are all the people?"

Now, artist David Oppenheim has literally turned this metaphor upside down with his sculpture, "Device to Root Out Evil." The sculpture, commissioned and then rejected by Stanford University, is a 22-foot-high country church upside down, its steeple jammed into the ground.

This story was picked up by newspapers (Weekly, Oct. 29). Ironically, the upside-down-church story appeared in the Chronicle one day after news of Hurricane Jeanne featured the shattered, overturned buildings in Haiti.

The parallel between these images -- the upside-down church and the overturned buildings -- is striking. In many ways, today's churches, especially Roman Catholic, are struggling for survival against the raging storm of disillusioned and embittered congregations.

Oppenheim's church also suggests that the "church" has its head buried in the sand -- perhaps a survival technique. In order to hold their own against the impact of mounting criticism and lagging attendance, some church leaders may believe it is better not to notice these signs of distress. What hurricane?

But Oppenheim's title, "Device to Root Out Evil," evokes a much more serious transgression.

Rooting out evil is the dark side of religion, past and present. It is the cause of private grief when human nature is seen as depraved, and of warfare between clans and nations "in the name of God."

The sculpture is particularly scary in its powerful simplicity. The cheerful little country church upended looks as innocent as a garden spade poised to dig out a nasty weed. It evokes images of simple people who soak up the preacher's sermon as "gospel truth," and who then draw a line between themselves as bearers of that truth and the bothersome, unenlightened, un-saved masses.

The righteousness of simple thinking assumes a black-and-white world. For those who have their ear to the "truth," evil lies outside themselves, in others. When push comes to shove, it must be rooted out. In the name of God.

Mark Twain tells a story about how animals and humans handle their differences. He taught a dog and a cat to be friends, then put them in a cage with a rabbit. The three became friendly. Gradually he added other animals -- a fox, a squirrel, a goose. The animals, being quite reasonable, according to Twain, accepted each other and went about living together.

Then he tried the same experiment with humans. He put a Roman Catholic and a Presbyterian in a cage, then added a Turk, a Buddhist, a Methodist and, last but not least, a Salvation Army colonel. When Twain checked the cage he found a chaos of bodies, collars, robes, fezzes, and turbans.

"These Reasoning Animals had disagreed on theological detail and carried the matter to a higher court."

Is Oppenheim merely adding his voice to Twain's? Is his sculpture a timely warning about the disaster that results when religion is used as a "device" to seek and destroy evil in people and beliefs different from one's own?

Or does it force us to consider religion primarily as an oppressor, a force that stirs up trouble? How could so much hate and bloodshed infiltrate the messages of love and forgiveness that the founders of nearly all religions professed and taught?

Religion betrays its own roots when it seeks to destroy evil or bully the bad guys into submission. Religion's higher role is to be a witness to the sacred in each of us and in the world. This witness draws us in by its own force. Gradually it helps us let go of our personal evil -- the barriers we put up, our doubts, greed, arrogance -- so each of us can be a spark of this sacred goodness. Religion earns its place when it makes us right with ourselves, each other and the world.

I do not know if Oppenheim's sculpture is legitimate art, or if Stanford's rejection was appropriate. But I do know that rooting out evil is a dangerous business, one that should not be taken lightly. Whatever the artist's intent, what this sculpture does, ultimately, is say, "Think about it!"

Nancy McGaraghan is a Palo Alto resident and a teacher and board member of Gracenter in San Francisco.She can be e-mailed at chezmcg@hotmail.com.

E-mail a friend a link to this story.