At the recent Moltmann conference, theologian Doug Meeks argued that a theology of hope means that “neither Globalization, nor Empire, nor Terror, is fated.” By “globalization” here I think he means specifically market globalization, not the wider globalization of NGOs and cultural hybridity. We’re left then with Market, Empire and Terror. Are these the three key powers-that-be who define our world today?
If so, they have not yet merged—that is, they are still competing with one another. The anti-globalization movement would disagree that Market and Empire have not merged. But I suppose it would take a conspiracy theorist at this point to say that all three have merged.
I agree with Frank Lechner: the self-parodying Market theology that corporate priests preach is not, in fact, fulfilling its own predictions about itself. Because Market theology is a Lie, the counter-preaching of the anti-globalization movement must then be a counter-Lie. The anti-global rhetoric is the weaker of the two because its existence depends upon the prior existence of the Market.
What would an ethics look like that is framed by the problems of Market, Empire and Terror? What new practices are waiting to be created to show us novel ways of living in the midst of these three terrible gods? If the theology of hope is true, nothing is fated—not even the Market, Empire, or Terror. Perhaps that’s the starting point.
1. Legal does not equal ethical. Just because SixApart has a legal right not to support previously compatible plug-ins, for example, doesn’t mean they shouldn’t.
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I’ll believe liberals are interested in winning when they learn how to use guns. I’ll believe liberals are interested in more than playing at an imaginary world of alternative identities and ideals when they quit acting shocked that I own a BB gun. 
Consider the affluent few who expect their clergy, nonprofit, and education professionals to live in genteel poverty as a sign of their commitment to the cause. They follow Simon of Cyrene along the Via Dolorosa, workshopping his cross carrying technique and advising him of its grant potential. Heaven forbid he should balk at his burden. “You, sir,” they say, “should learn gratitude. And be more polite. People will judge our cause by your work.”
Swallowing the Nicene Creed means swallowing Greco-Roman metaphysics. Even if I wanted to do that, is it even possible today? Sure, the creed is beautiful and creative when read in its historical context, but lots of things are. Does that mean I should believe them all? 
