These days, it’s an understatement to note that the words “journalism” and “redemptive” usually don’t appear together. Yet, at its best — and there still is good reporting out there — journalism operates as a redemptive practice anchored in the simple act of telling the truth.
My desire isn’t to superficially spiritualize journalism or add some sort of glib Christian gloss. Nor is it my desire to make seasoned journalists roll their eyes, as they easily could do, by trying to cast an earthy profession in pretentious, otherworldly terms. But this notion of redemptive practice has been a perpetual point of reflection for me over the past 28 years, 13 in daily newspapers and 15 in academia. I am interested in how I can think about this field in a manner that’s sound theologically, independent of the the ideological impulses that color so much Christian thinking and free of the bankrupt arguments over bias that dominate press criticism (more on that in a future post).
I can’t pretend to offer an exhaustive discussion in one blog post — my posts tend to run too long already. But in bits and pieces, and drawing upon some examples, I do want to explore this notion of redemptive practice, to think aloud and try to solidify some thoughts along the way.
So, I’ll start here: Journalism operates as a redemptive practice whenever it enlarges our hearts. I’m not writing of sentimentalism but rather of the cultivation of empathy by taking us into someone else’s world. That is, through the craft of storytelling, our understanding, compassion and reflection are awakened and challenged. I use the word storytelling intentionally, for the best journalism is much more than imparting facts in a succinct manner.
One trait of great storytelling is that it is cathartic, or transformative, in nature. Philosopher Sissela Bok, borrowing from Aristotle, notes: “This experience of catharsis permits a schooling of the emotions and a deepening of one’s understanding of human nature …” Though Bok is examining the moral significance of violent media content, I think this notion can be applied to journalistic work as well, regardless of the subject matter. When our emotions are schooled, our hearts are enlarged. Neither the subject of a story, nor its consumer, has been diminished.
Borrowing from Bok again, the flip side is when poor journalism diminishes humanity, both of the subject and the consumer. To make her point, Bok draws upon Augustine’s account of his friend Alypius attending the gladiatorial games (emphasis added):
So he opened his eyes, and his soul was stabbed with a wound more deadly than any which the gladiator, whom he was anxious to see, had received in his body. He fell, and fell more pitifully, than the man whose fall had drawn the roar of excitement from the crowd.
When have you read or viewed a story and found yourself moved — not by the cheap emotional voyeurism of reality TV — but by a deeper understanding of another’s life? When, on the other hand, have you felt stabbed in the soul by a news report that (TV or print) that is exploitive of its subject matter? What distinguishes one from the other?
When we become more self-aware of what we experience when we partake in news, we can begin to grasp one way in which journalism can be a redemptive practice. This may well have less to do with the subject matter of a specific story but how a news organization treats that subject matter. Personally, I often feel stabbed if not assaulted these days when I watch much of cable TV news — yet there are moments when TV renders experience in powerful ways that enlarge my understanding of others. When do you feel enlarged or stabbed by the news your read and see?
If you’ve read this far (thank you), then consider examining one recent news package and your reaction to it — do you feel enlarged or stabbed in the soul?
On Sunday, The New York Times launched a yearlong series story about the deployment of an Army unit to Afghanistan, and its impact on both soldiers and their families. The print edition filled two full inside pages with words and photos; online you’ll find slide shows and videos to supplement the print story. Regardless of your reaction, why do you feel that way? What, good or bad, stands out for you in this work?
Signs of Grace 