Celsius 9/11: Michael Moore and the church in Canada

While some Americans may have images of Michael Moore riding the Democratic donkey right into November and a crowning redefinition of American patriotism, we Canadians are in a unique position to see the significance of Moore's Fahrenheit 9/11 beyond its role as a Democratic campaign tool. (Not to suggest Americans see it as only that.)

Since we won't get to vote for Bush or not-Bush, and since we don't have to prove our patriotism to anyone, we have the luxury of an a-partisan, a-patriotic lens. From this vantage I see in Moore's film questions about truth and love in an age of oil.

Regardless of who is elected, the oil will keep flowing and these questions will continue to demand creative courage. And this demand calls particularly to the church--whether in the U.S., Canada or beyond--as we ought to have a unique contribution when it comes to truth and love (the same is true for other faith groups).

Oil is as much a part of the lives of Canadian Christians as it is a part of the violent politics Moore documents. If we are to talk about the Gospel of peace in our churches we have to talk about how we get to church. We have to talk about how we might experience and share more of God's love by untangling ourselves from the violent politico-economics of oil.

Through Moore's images of bereaved mothers, Saudi-style swank, and rock-n-roll war, what ends up on center stage is oil. He has read the signs of the times (even if some think he reads between the lines at points). Oil is the currency of our age. Seven of the eight largest corporations in the world are oil companies or car-makers. The other one of the eight is Wal-Mart, which operates the world's largest trucking fleet.

"Not in my name"

Fahrenheit 9/11 implies the Iraq intervention is in the name of the Bushites, not average Americans. The "not in my name" refrain is common in anti-war circles. It's even easier for us as Canadians to sneak our con-sciences out this ethical back door. But here the conversation must go beyond where Moore ably takes us. After looking at where the oil comes from and who sells it, we must look at where it ends up and who buys it.

It's tempting to point the ever-ready finger at the smug and affluent, but they are, to some extent only riding the crest of a wave of consumption that is our daily lifestyles. Without all of us having somehow been sucked into lifestyles wholly dependent on oil, Exxon, GM and the Saudi royalty would not have the clout they currently wield. Bush's foreign policy would be different.

Each mile we drive we enjoy the spoils of war and fuel the violent politics of oil.

This is not to let elected leaders off the hook, but power is a bottom-up phenomenon and we as human beings must take responsibility for our own entanglement in the dynamics of power and greed. Each $30 tank of gas is, in one sense, a contribution to the oil interests that tend to get their way. The image I have is of Donald Rumsfeld passing around the offering plate from one gas pump to the next, soliciting contributions to the cause.

Fahrenheit 9/11 leaves me wanting to extricate myself from the oil system. It has increased my zeal for biking, gardening, buying local and similar spiritual disciplines. I don't want any hint of crude on my conscience. I don't want my faith journey encumbered by it.

The good news is that each step away from oil's grasp is a step closer to the God of love. To use the words of 1 John 4:12, if we love one another --by discontinuing actions that harm our neighbours--God lives in us, and God's love is perfected in us.

Will Braun is a writer, aspiring gardener and avid bicycle commuter living in Winnipeg.

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