Saturday, August 10, 2024

Sermon: Second Breakfast


           
 In the Fantasy movie, “Fellowship of the Rings” there is a scene that most people know, even if they don’t know it, because it became an internet meme.

            Two hobbits, Merry and Pippin, are dilly dallying, and Aragorn (in most films he’d be the classic hero, 
but one of the fun things about the Lord of the Rings series is that the traditional hero type plays second fiddle to a bunch of Hobbits—silly little gentlemen in waist coats), 
Mr. Hero’s hero, Aragorn, says, “Gentleman we do not stop until nightfall.”

            To which Pippin replies, “What about breakfast.”

            “You’ve already had it!”

            Pippin scoffs, “We’ve had one yes, but what about second breakfast?”

            Worried, Merry replies, “I don’t think he knows about 2nd breakfast, Pippin.”

 

            And this Angel of the Lord is offering a similar thing to Elijah
—you need second breakfast, 
you need to be hydrated again, 
you need two naps…

             By this I mean we need to receive from God that which allows us to heal, recover, and salvage our lives from the humiliations and despair of this world….

            And also, we need to receive from God that which prepares, fortifies, and sustains us for the journey of faith…

Prayer

 

            The Prophet Elijah arrives at that solitary broom tree, which we read of in 1stKings, 
after an awful confrontation with the Prophets of the pagan deity Ba’al. 
He and a few of his countryman executed these pagan prophets (450 of them in total)… 
and the King and Queen respond by threatening to Execute Elijah… 
that’s why he’s run off into the wilderness.

            And he’s had enough… 
like a child caught on a carnival ride that is too much for him, 
Elijah just wants it all to end… 
“They want me dead, what if I do it myself!”

            Or perhaps he suffers from moral injury
—killing another person can wreak havoc on your soul, 
and Elijah did just order the slaughter of 450 human beings… 

 

            Did you know one of the most common artifacts from the Civil War are rifles stuffed full with bullets
—the majority of civil war soldiers never fired at another person, 
instead they just kept loading and loading their guns until one side ran away from the battle field… 
so you can imagine Elijah
—heart ripped to shreds over what he has done.

            Or perhaps Elijah is just dead tired
—a friend who is more into Biblical Geography than I, pointed out that when Elijah goes for runs in scripture, it is a super-hero kind of endeavor
—going like 45 miles an hour or so… 
so perhaps he’s just spent.

            Or, taking a plain reading of scripture, 
the nasty cycle of God’s people failing to be faithful is too much for him… 
he finds himself in the same place as his ancestors, 
“Why do we always find ourselves in the desert
—the wilderness?”
 
Stripped bare, out there and all alone. 
Why does this keep happening?

 

            We wonder that too, sometimes, right? 
When we’re exhausted, 
mentally unwell, physically sick, 
taking care of loved one, 
at our wits end, 
the end of our patience, or rope
—those times when we’re in danger of thinking poorly and make bad decisions, 
When we don’t show up as our best self
—exhaustion and despair… 
we are often not fully there
—fully present and careful.

 

            Now, this was a tricky sermon to write as a Lutheran,
because this incident in scripture can so easily be hijacked as mere advice about self-care.
            If I say things wrong, you all will assume that Elijah just needs to boot strap himself into wholeness… 
that this whole thing is about taking care of YOURSELF… 
do these three things and you’ll be healthy, wealthy, and wise…

            And to be clear, self-awareness and taking things slow when need be, is holy and good 
(what I said in the children’s sermon still stand)
—our body is a temple of God, 
Sabbath is a Commandment, 
and we’re made in the image of God, 
so ignoring our self can be unholy… 
but the Gospel is more than a self-help philosophy.

 

            The Gospel is also a blessing of human weakness
—it is calling us into our need… 
Elijah isn’t okay, and he can’t get up and eat save outside intervention, 
he can’t have second breakfast, or even first, save this divine messenger who cares for him!

            Elijah is stripped bare, in the desert, and he has to rely on God!

            He receives rest, food, and water to heal him in his hurt. 
He receives a second-time rest, food, and water to fortify him for the journey. 
Fortify him to encounter the very voice of God! Because you see, what happens next is he goes through thunder and fire and earthquake, 
only to find God in utter silence, 
in a still small voice! 
This re-affirms that God acts in the small stuff, 
blessing is found in weakness, not tumult.

            No amount of doing, of self-care, can move Elijah from despair to new life
—but Despair and New Life is surely the Goodness given to him as a gift. As Christians, we can unashamedly say that is the Gospel! God moves us from death to life!

 

            God feeds and frees us from despair, 
and God feeds and frees us for the journey of faith, 
a journey where we encounter God’s very voice
—God’s Word
—Jesus Christ, 
in common simple things. 

            As Luther strikingly points out, when we notice that which is necessary and nourishing for our life, we are receiving our prayed for daily bread!

            And here’s the corollary to that
—just as the common stuff of this world contains the voice of God, 
when we cease to struggle to save ourselves, 
no longer assuming that we just need to do one more thing, 
that we just need to be or do enough and despair will vanish, 
we find a new bedrock for self-care work
—you are enough, 
because you are undergirded by the God who ALREADY loves you! 

            Not because we’ve been given a task, but because we are loved. 
Loved in our despair and loved on our journey. 
Loved through community, word and water, bread and wine—common gifts.

             And any theory of change, of transformation—of moving from despair to new life, that is worth its salt, has to go through that—love. 
Anti-depressants and Love! 
Cognitive Behavioral Therapy and Love! 
Regular sleep and exercise and Love! 
NA, AA, ACA, Al Anon and Love!

            People don’t change because you to-do them to death, 
people change because they have a stable loving place to begin their journey
—second breakfast, hydrated again, two naps.

 

            Now that Fellowship of the Rings scene has one more moment that most people miss
—as Merry and Pippin groan over their singular breakfast, 
Aragorn throws them each an apple. 
A small thing, but a sign of understanding and care.

            To close here is one final Lord of the Rings Quote, this time from the wizard Gandalf, “Some believes that it is only great power that can hold evil in check. But that is not what I have found. I've found it is the small things, everyday deeds of ordinary folk that keeps the darkness at bay.” Amen.


 

Monday, August 05, 2024

Millennials Meeting the Moment


 

              So, I’m watching the Foundation TV show on Apple+, and it has got me thinking a bit about historical forces, and particularly Generational Theory. I’m one of those people who read Strauss and Howe’s giant Generational Theory book back when it was in vogue. These two studied every generation of Americans from colonization to the present. They noticed a pattern of four generations that seemed to reoccur over and over again. This theory has been adopted by Church Growth folk, Political Consultants, and undergirds much of the language we use to talk about generational shifts and strife.

-One generation meets and defeats a crisis. Their ways of doing so shape how they re-set society after the crisis.

-Then the next generation who were too young to participate as adults in the crisis, take the previous generation’s reshaped society and improves it, often times softening its edges to do more than meet a crisis, but have a life.

-Then the next generation, who never knew the crisis and have experienced the boon of the new society, reacts to it, usually with a spiritual fury. Think the Great Awakenings and/or “Turn on, Tune in, Drop Out”.

-Finally, the fourth generation takes that spiritual energy and turns it into the physical and social work of dismantling the society set up by the first generation. This in turn prepares the way for the next generation to meet and defeat the next American crisis.

              Obviously there is a lot more to it than that, but that’s the broad stokes of the idea. You can see where the current living generations fit into Howe and Strauss’ system in my little chart above.

              According to Strauss and Howe there was only one break to this pattern, the Civil War. Their explanation was that the crisis broke out too soon, the generation who should have met and defeated the crisis weren’t adults when the crisis hit, as such there was an awful and bleak period in American life that almost ended our country and way of life.

              Now, since September 12th 2001, most of the Strauss-Howe people have been announcing that my generation, the Millennials, were too young when the crisis hit. We could only be foot soldiers in the War on Terror, so the Baby Boomers grasped onto the national agenda and did the changing for us. Then, when the Great Recession hit, the Strauss-Howe folk again said, “Shoot, the Millennials are too young to lead us out of this great crisis.”

              I think, the War on Terror and the Great Recession weren’t the crisis points that Millennials are fixing and rebuilding society in reaction to. Instead, I think the Crisis my generation are meeting and will meet, are the Pandemic and the Climate Crisis. It seems like the post-COVID re-set that is currently happening in society is the Millennials reshaping American norms and values to meet those twin challenges. I’m shooting from the hip on this, but just something I thought was worth sharing.

Saturday, August 03, 2024

Sermon: Hope, Unity, Freedom, Vocation, and Maturity

 

              Today’s reading from Ephesians is the bridge between Theology and Exhortation
—the midpoint between the idea and the deed.

              Before it Paul insists that:
the life of the Church
points the whole world
—that which is seen and that which is unseen
—to the Gospel.

              After it Paul goes into detail about
how Christians ought to live together.

              And this bridge, today’s lesson, is built upon the stuff of Baptism:
Hope, Unity, Freedom, Vocation, and Maturity.

Let us pray.

 

              The multi-nation prisoner swap has been in the news the last few days,
and the focus has been on its complexity…
but it is worth considering quite simply the people involved.
A marine imprisoned for almost six years, two journalists sentenced for a combined 22 years, and so on.
Imagine the pent-up worry and the back and forth of despair and hope rattling around in these folk’s souls!

              Paul knew a little something of that,
that’s why Ephesians is littered with captivity language.
As Paul Scholar NT Wright reconstructs it,
the highest and lowest point of Paul’s ministry both took place in Ephesus.
For 3 and a half years he ministered to a growing gathering of Christians there…
and then the locals took notice.
They imprisoned Paul and dragged the leaders of local congregation into the Amphitheater and the whole place erupted in denunciations and beatings.
Paul could probably see the whole thing,
impotent to do much of anything.
—some of the pillars of the church in Ephesus publicly renounced their faith.

(Riff on actual persecution, instead of crying wolf)

              And Paul is again imprisoned, likely writing to some of those same folk who crumbled under pressure.
And he reminds them to have hope,
for Christ has captured captivity itself!
Have hope, even on the other side of the silencing storm of persecution,
even on the other side of failure
—there is hope!

 

              In the ancient world there was an assumption about the structure of the universe
—that it consisted of dualities (Antimonies)—this not that.
Jew/Gentile, Free/Slave, Man/Woman, etc.
—you can’t have one with out the other,
 and unity ought to be founded on being this, not that.

To this framing of the world Paul points to Baptism,
Being in Christ as a different foundation for the Church
—a church united in its diversity,
encompassing all those things folk think are fundamental divisions,
Unity in Diversity is “God’s multifaceted wisdom.”

              And today, the Church is Great when it is united in its diversity,
when it scrambles the antimonies we still construct as a society
—class divisions, racial categories, age brackets, political silos…
nothing shows off the Gospel like:
-political rivals kneeling at the same altar,
-elders and elementary school kids sharing about their week at coffee hour,
-poor and rich singing the same hymn,
-African American and European American at the same communion table…
one body, one Lord!

 

              Paul understands that these little Christian communities he’s writing to are more than Mystery Cults
—self-serving religious organizations, helping members get ahead in the world with winks and nods
—instead it is, we are, the Body of Christ.
If Paul was a chemist, he might say that Christ’s body has the property of gas,
it expands to fill the room. It seeks to go out into the world and be all in all.
Freed FROM sin, death, and the devil,
FOR the sake of our neighbors.

              As Deitrich Bonhoeffer once wrote, “The Church is the Church only when it exists for others.”
Christian Freedom is a journey that starts at from and moves to for! Freedom for others.

 

              Paul describes some of the roles in the Church:

Apostles: Firsthand witnesses of the Resurrection.

Prophets: Those speaking in Jesus’ name to guide the whole group.

Pastors: There to look after the church.

Teachers: Training people’s minds to focus on Christ.

              If I was Paul, I’d describe those gifts as vocations
—the spiritual aspect of all the Roles, Relationships, and Responsibilities we have.

              Then he points out that these roles are meaningful, not for their own sake,
but in so far as they build up the Body of Christ,
creating mature and loving Christians.

Our vocations ought to promote thriving and love!

 

              Finally, Paul warns the Ephesians about something he experienced at Corinth in spades,
communities caught under the spell of Charismatic preachers
and pushed to embrace those very divisions the world offers.
An immaturity irreconcilable with the Christian faith.

He insists the Christians in Ephesus ought to embrace maturity by being
rooted in communities of care,
where trusting Jesus
and the truth of the Gospel
are evident.

 

This movement from theology to praxis, idea to deed, being to doing
—are all rooted in what the Spirit is about to do through water and word for you, little Andrew!

In Holy Baptism you will be:
-captured by hope,
-united into the one body of Jesus Christ,
-freed from sin, death, and the devil for your neighbor,
-called to a baptismal vocation,
-and started on a journey toward Christian maturity. A+A

Monday, July 29, 2024

Rebuilding Bridges (Theology of Crisis)

 Rebuilding Bridges (Theology of Crisis)

Augustine, Simone Weil and me


Scriptures: 1 Samuel 3:1-11 and Ezra 3:10-13

          In the book of Samuel, we get to read about Samuel, the last Judge of Israel, who almost functions as a King. He is a bridge figure between two worlds, two ways of being Israel. The story of his life reflects the crisis of this transition.

Before Samuel, Israelite society was decentralized. According to the book of Judges the 12 tribes govern themselves—they were semi-autonomous, other than in times of crisis, when God sends a charismatic individual to unite the tribes and deal with the threat. Likewise, worship is done locally, and strange bands of prophets wander the land doing mighty and surprising deeds.

After Samuel his society is centralized. Like other nations the Israelites are ruled by a dynastic king. The government and temple are located in Jerusalem, and prophets largely cease their wandering and instead serve in the king’s court.

The book of Ezra tells of another crisis in the life of God’s people. They were freed from Exile in Babylon, and given funds to rebuild the temple. And they do. It is a glorious thing—the younger returners have dreamed of this day their whole lives. The aged returners have done so too, but they remember what once was.

The rebuilding of the temple is both a thing of joy, and a sorrowful event. Such a clamor, weeping and huzzahs intermingled. Shouts of, “Is this it? Shouldn’t it be better? Don’t you remember the good old days?” as well as, “Finally, what we’ve been waiting for! It is here, God will be present with us again; God’s glory among us!”

Imagine, in both of these times of crisis and transition, how folk had to re-think everything. Not only that, they had to live differently, imagine in new ways, and dream sacred dreams like never before! Times of crisis can be the most fruitful and faithful, because the only other option is failure.

 

St. Augustine—City of God

          Once the eyes of Rome fell upon the Christian faith, persecutions, be they led by Emperors or neighbors with pitchforks, began. The Faith hid and struggled and did what it could to survive. Then along came Emperor Constantine, who first made Christianity a legal religion within the Roman Empire, then the preferred religion of the Empire, and finally THE religion of the Empire.

This was a heady time for the Faith, going from outsider to insider, persecuted to persecutor, all in relatively short order. Such a reversal could only be ascribed to the Holy Spirit. “Could,” these Christians wondered, “this be the reign of God Jesus describes in those parables? Great reversals are surely a sign of resurrection and new life!”

 “Could,” they wondered within a generation of their acceptance and ascendancy, “the Roman Empire and the Kingdom of God be one in the same? Could the Kingdom be a literal kingdom, not an experience to be noticed and savored, a framing to help us discern the Spirit at work, but instead a particular government, a particular secular patron turned sacred? Being a good Roman Citizen and being a Citizen of the Kingdom of God are one in the same!” they concluded.

And then, in the year 410 of the Common Era, Rome itself, the heart of this new Kingdom of God, was sacked. “Oh no! If Rome fell, does that mean God has failed? What do we do now?”

After a decade and a half of reflection, Augustine, a Bishop in the hinterlands of the Empire, Hippo, North Africa, wrote a response. In a thick book titled The City of God he answered the question, “Did the Kingdom of God fail?” He unraveled what had become ungainly wound, the distinction between the City of Rome and the City of God, secular citizenship and being a Christian.

To this day City of God, written in response to such a crisis, informs not only Christian theology, but also political philosophy and theories of the mind. When you have to rethink everything from the root, every branch blooms afresh!

 

Simone Weil—The Need for Roots

          Another such crisis was that of Europe after the Second World War. Simone Weil, a French Christian Mystic, considered the crisis of confidence in her home country of France, as well as the continent as a whole. She noted how quickly France fell to the Nazis, and how German fell under the sway of fascism so easily. She felt those events were two sides of the same coin. Both were symptoms of a similar demoralization and lostness that pervaded Europe. If those were all symptoms, the disease was rootlessness. The bulk of the European continent had been uprooted from any semblance of tradition or family or nation or much of anything else. Industrialization and urbanization were the Petri dishes in which totalitarianism and demoralization grew.

          And this would have simply been an interesting assessment, save that Charles DeGaulle was working on a new constitution for France, and he asked Weil to not just diagnosis the disease, but also offer a cure. Weil threw herself into this project and offered the following:

Reinvigorate Local French Cultures—Part of why France failed to fight, Weil surmised, was that they were being told to fight for Parisian values, yet they were not Parisian; at the same time, they had been discouraged from identifying with their regional culture for so long they no longer identified with it either. For generations they had been encouraged to throw off their local culture, but were still looked down upon as parochial in their attempts at assimilation, and therefore they were left rootless. So, Weil saw the way forward to be a celebration of local French culture alongside the Parisian mainstream.

Choose to Decolonize Africa and Asia—To lose a colony is to be humiliated, to create more men pining and valorizing the past, to root themselves in domination and oppression. To free your own colonies is to be on the right-er side of history, to give your people something positive to celebrate now.

Create decentralized and contextual education—If factory work in cities creates alienated and broken men who won’t fight for their nation, or alternatively will be attracted to strong men, teach non-factory work. Teach, too, local cultures so every French-person has something to be proud of, be they in the center or at the periphery.

Decentralize manufacturing and give workers incentives to work—Again, if the majority rushing to one or two manufacturing hubs leaves the urban folk feeling squished and atomized and the rural folk feeling abandoned, shift how manufacturing operates. Sure, things might be a tish less efficient, but if that reinvigorates the spirit and pushes away fascist tendencies, it is worth it. For that matter, meaningful work gives people dignity and a sense of purpose, so prioritizing that over idleness, even when it is inefficient, is worthwhile.

Have fact checkers for everything—One of the horrifying things about totalitarianism that Weil noticed was how ruthlessly truth gets mugged. For that reason, France ought to fight against disinformation at every turn.

Redefine Patriotism as that which can be lost… a Politics of the Cross (like Theology of the Cross)—The lines between patriotism and nationalism were easily blurred and many of the finer details of a national life, not to mention the little people, can be easily lost in the shuffle. For that matter, so much of the totalitarian vision involves false nostalgia and promises of an impossible future. Part of a healthy patriotism is seeing the good that is actually present, and preserving it.

Redefine French Identity as a people for humanity—So much of nationalism is defining who a people are not. I am German not Polish, French not Spanish or Algerian. Weil flips that on its head, what if the French identity is defined by inclusion and solidarity with all people?

 

Pastor Chris—The Four D’s

          That brings us to our present crisis, the crisis of the North American Church. If the statisticians are right, the mainline tradition (denomination churches associated with the European Protestant tradition who have structures in place to weed out bad actors and hold people to account. I serve in the ELCA, a hub of the Mainline tradition.) will cease to exist in about a decade.

          I’m just one guy, certainly not a mystic like Weil or a Genius-Saint like Augustine, but I think I occasionally can see things clearly, and this is my assessment.

In the present crisis, the mainline tradition is failing because it is not grappling with the four Ds: Disestablishment, Decentralization, Demographic Shift, and most importantly, Disenchantment.

 

Disestablishment:

          When the Baltimore Colts were a team, or so I’ve heard, they were only allowed to play football after a certain time on Sunday, on order of the Archbishop of Baltimore. Then when Baltimore got a new team, the Baltimore Ravens, the Archbishop went to the owner of the team to schedule when the team could play on Sundays, and he was gently shown the door.

          As the above story illustrates, something has fundamentally shifted in how American society treats Christianity. While America has never had an official state religion, we have often informally acted in ways that centered the Christian faith. This is an insight Theologian Douglas John Hall has famously pointed out in his own country, Canada. There were once a host of cultural norms that assisted the church, and the church has grown to rely on them. In fact, often the Church returned the favor, teaching American cultural values instead of the gospel. As long as the Church was vaguely “nice” a bunch of social organizations would help it out.

          For a variety of reasons (Bowling Alone dynamics, the end of the Cold War and the rise of the War on Terror, etc.) that reality came to an end. Some in the Church are desperately trying to claw our way back into the halls of power, others despair. I would suggest the whole situation is an opportunity.

We can now reconsider all those formal and informal cultural connections and start again. The Church has been given an opportunity to rethink how we make partnerships. One of the places doing this sort of work, at least on a building use level, is Partners for Sacred Places in Philly. The Mainline needs to intentionally remake connections with new partners. We need to re-imagine our place in society and find where the Holy Spirit is already acting in our neighborhoods!

 

Decentralization:

          Once, or so I have been told, the world was centralized. Everyone received news from a single trusted newscaster, desks in schools all faced forward looking at a teacher, organizations were very hierarchical, a top-down kind of thing. The Church too functioned in this way, top down, facing forward in your pews, trusting the Pastor as the authority on the Faith. And this all worked quite swimmingly, at least for a time.

          Now everyone gets their news from information silos, classrooms are modular and virtual, and organizations are taught to value decentralized, democratic, “leaderless” leadership, as most clearly articulated by the book The Starfish and the Spider. And probably most noticeable, the internet has flattened the world.

          And the Church has changed, some. The ELCA constitution uplifts lay leadership and democratic principles in a way predecessor bodies did not. When Covid came around we managed to get most of our congregations onto the internet. But we’re still struggling with this.

I can’t help but think of a very confused Roman Catholic who attended my congregation for a time. He had discovered from some amalgamation of the “History” Channel and chat rooms on the internet that the difference between Protestants and Catholics was that Protestants acknowledged that the Apostle Paul was a werewolf (that was the thorn in his flesh). When I burst his bubble, he wasn’t fazed. He decided I was an authority figure who was hiding “the Truth.” Then he started attending an “Entrepreneurial” Church down the street where the Pastor agreed that mainline Churches often hide things from “the people.”

So, what do we do in a flat, leaderless, democratic, virtual, world? We harness it. We recognize that 12 disciples, inspired by the testimony of Mary and her crew, and empowered by the Holy Spirit, changed the world. “Oh no, we have small churches” can be transformed into “Wow, we have small teams of empowered people excited to be the Church in the world!”

Imagine if we took seriously the Church’s duty to equip and encourage lay folks! Imagine if we embraced holy experimentation, every congregation had a solid and sustainable internet ministry, and we met out in the world, becoming seeds thrown out into the world doing Kin(g)dom work!

 

Demographics:

The ELCA, and many Mainline denominations, identify as white and middle class. And there was a time when that seemed to serve us well. After the world wars European refugees poured into our country looking for Churches where they could belong and become American at a pace that was comfortable. In the heyday of the Mainline, middle-class jobs paid well and offered opportunities for women not to work. This meant congregations had access to funds and volunteer hours.

To be clear the above description was never that neat, just talk to old timers, especially the women and immigrants, or talk to non-white Lutherans, they have a whole different story to tell. But, granting the above story, it didn’t last.

On one hand, immigration from traditionally Lutheran countries tapered off. On the other, being middle class shifted. Those who think of themselves as Middle Class are now time poor, and financially poorer, than early generations, just read Reich, or Steve Bannon, for that matter. Hence new members aren’t beating down the doors, there are fewer volunteers, and donations are down.

          Luckily what is a “traditionally” Lutheran country has changed. Ethiopia has the second largest Lutheran population in the world, followed by Tanzania. For that matter, Guyana has a thriving Lutheran tradition, and if you’ve ever been to a Guyanese wedding, the first thing you notice is how racially diverse the country is. So, I tell folk, invite anyone who looks Guyanese to Church, because that’s a way of saying, invite everyone! Throw away those preconceived notions of what a Lutheran looks like!

For that matter, we need to take a hard look at what middle class practices of the past serve us well, and which don’t. And, the impoverishment of the Mainline should refocus us on poverty and point us to how Church is done by impoverished people!

 

Disenchantment:

          Finally, behind all the above there is a larger challenge we face, Disenchantment (this presentation has changed since the first time I gave it, and named only the 3Ds above, then I read Hunting Magic Eels and decided there is a 4th D). Put baldly, maybe badly, the way the average American lives makes it hard to believe in God at all. Our habits and focuses point us to the material and secular things of this world. We have trained ourselves to notice the ball, but miss the gorilla.

          So, what to do? Reenchant the world! Encourage:
Holy Friendships—prayer partners and chancing sharing your faith with others.

The Romance of the Faith—passionate preaching, feeling as well as thinking, encouraging people to reflect on their own faith stories,

Practice Gratitude—reflect on the “roses and thorns” of your day, and give thanks for the roses,

Embracing Beauty—paint murals on churches, reflect on iconography, create new pretty singable music.

 

Conclusion:

          Times of transition and crisis are frightening but can also be times of faithful rethinking. When God’s people find fresh footing, they can do amazing things, they can move forward again.

Augustine’s rethink of the faith has created modes of thought both secular and sacred that still are helpful almost 1700 years later. It is astonishing that a Christian Mystic was so revered (or the crisis was so severe) that a secular government would ask for her advice. Finally, what I see as our own crisis as Church is frightening, but not insurmountable; we just have to faithfully think through where we are at, dream new dreams, and follow the Spirit’s leading.

Monday, July 22, 2024

Bridging the Gap (Race)

 Bridging the Gap (Race)

Isaac Asimov, Howard Thurman and Cornel West

(As an aside I did not teach this lesson this last time around, because Cornel West is running for president, and the Church ought never be a partisan place. If we become the Democratic/Republican/Green/Libertarian Party at prayer, we’ve lost our way.)

 

Scriptures: 2 Kings 17:24-28 and Luke 10:25-37

          The lesson from second Kings is a description of the formation of the group we now call the Samaritans. The Assyrians, who were the big empire of the time, controlled captured populations by transplanting them from one end of the empire to another, thus eliminating any home field advantage or cohesion among the oppressed. In 2nd Kings we see the 10 northern tribes displaced and replaced by this group of non-Israelites. They end up converting to the religion of the land (remember this is an origin story told from the outside) not because they were faithful, but because they were afraid of the local fauna, the lions.

          So, you have these outsiders who convert out of necessity instead of tradition, who grow up parallel to Judaism, who claim the same identity, perhaps even a truer identity (The Samaritan telling of their origin story is that they’re the faithful remnant that didn’t go to Babylon and kept as scripture only the books of Moses, not the paganized additions compiled by the exilic community). At best they are the “black sheep” of the family, the cousin group that isn’t invited to family gatherings. At worst they embody a pre-modern version of the Uncanny Valley—the experience of robots and really good graphics becoming so human-like that their subtle differences freak us out.

          You have these outsiders who were brought to Israel in 722BC, who live among the other Judaisms of the time through the exile in 586BC, through Alexander the Great’s reign in 323BC, through the Maccabean revolt in 160BC, all the way to Jesus’ day, roughly 33AD. So, 755 years of living beside and among mainstream Judaisms, and yet there is still great division and hatred of these outsiders, these others. Progress is not inevitable, changed hearts and reconciliation doesn’t just happen.

In John’s Gospel Jesus is called a Samaritan as an insult, and in Luke’s Gospel and its sequel, Acts, the pivot point that moves the Gospel from Jerusalem out into all the world is the inclusion of the Samaritans. Once the Church is able to take the gospel to Samaria, spreading out into the gentile world seems possible. All the world becomes a neighborhood where the love of God might be shared.

          And Jesus’ most famous stories about who our neighbor is centers the Samaritans. Those you would traditionally expect to act in a neighborly manner, miss the mark, and only the one who is seen as the evil other, the one whose very essence is missing the mark, gets a bull’s eye. The one who acts as neighbor to the man in grave need is a Samaritan.

 

Asimov:

          The famed science fiction author, Isaac Asimov, once penned a very different sort of book, a commentary on the Bible! In his section on the Samaritans, he makes a startling point, if you want to understand how Samaritans were treated in Jesus’ day, just look to how America was treating African Americans in Asimov’s day!

The Samaritans are a people taken from their native land, who adopt the religion of their surroundings for the sake of their safety, and hundreds of years later they are still treated as second-class citizens. If you want to know what that might look like existentially, just look to how America treats African Americans.

After all, their ancestors were taken from their native land, they adopted the Christian faith under the duress of white folk and then took it and made it their own; it is a faith of freedom, hidden away in the hush harbors noting that Moses was a liberator of slaves and Jesus came that we might be free indeed. And despite centuries of being neighbors, black folk are still treated as second class citizens, there are still instances where, “Guess who your neighbor is, him!” would make people feel uncomfortable.

 

Howard Thurman

          Howard Thurman starts his short and powerful book Jesus and the Disinherited with an experience he had in India. In the midst of a conversation with his host there, he was asked, “What are you doing here?” And the host wasn’t meaning, “why are you on a good will tour,” but instead, “why would an educated Black man be Christian, and show up in a non-white country as a representative of the faith.” Surely he knows white Christians lynch their black coreligionists, surely he knows white Christians upheld slavery in the name of the Faith, surely he knows the Christianity is used to justify empires of oppression! To which Thurman responds with his defense of the Faith.

He names Jesus’ life situation as one of a minority in an empire and he insists the Gospel is a tool to resist oppression. For example, embracing humility means the dominant culture can never humiliate you and being rooted in your identity as a Child of God can buffer you from the dehumanizing weight of domination. In a segregated society the church can be one of the few places where culture and race can be crossed in a natural way, and those kind of connections force people to see each other as just that, people, unique individual persons.

And please do not read Thurman as a Pollyanna, he readily acknowledges the oppressions his host points to. For example, his own grandmother, when she learned to read, insists that she would not once read the Apostle Paul, because his letters were the only place in the bible from which the white preacher would preach, “Slaves be obedient to your masters as unto God.”

 

Cornel West

          Cornel West follows in the reading of scripture that Thurman uplifts; Jesus’ place as a minority in an empire has unique resonance for African Americans, and that insight can be expanded out to all of scripture. If the bible is read from that perspective, it is better for everyone. Such a reading keeps oppressive tendencies at bay and encourages everyone to work for a better world. It is a sure defense for all people who are discriminated against, be it based on race, class, gender or sexual orientation.

          A mistake that gets made, West says, is that these insights get translated into economic programs to uplift and protect the least, last, and lost. That’s a start, but not enough. Instead, there ought to be a truly democratic culture.

People’s voice shouldn’t only be heard because they have enough money to shake up the marketplace. No! Society should be shaped in such a way that makes every voice matter, because they matter, not simply because they are an economic unit. The way such a reality might come into existence is a sort of fusion politics—the least, last, and lost banding together across racial and economic, gender and orientation lines to make sure everyone is cared for and heard and treated as a person.

 

A Note about Post-modernity and Race

          One speculation that I’ve heard from a professor I respect very deeply, is that the claims of post-modernity came about as a refusal to fit Black experience into the Grand Narrative of modernity. In other words, rather than integrate the history of the oppressed into the story of modernity, it seemed preferable to sacrifice the grand narrative in total. Naming black suffering as objective fact, measuring the pile of bodies brought about by slavery and segregation, was just too much.

An alternative reading is that post-modernity is that very integration. A critique from the underside, a recognition that what seemed objectively good to enslavers was objectively bad to the enslaved, suggesting an extreme subjectivity to the observer. So many so-called scientific truths, be they measuring skulls or sociologically analyzing temperature zones or tying linguistics to racial superiority, were all fraudulent and done in service of power, not by the power of systematic observation.

 

Conclusion

          Jesus’ parable about a good Samaritan was shocking because Jesus’ society would consider no such thing; the gap between Samaritan and the Mainstream Judaisms of the time was unthinkably deep and wide. Asimov was able to notice a parallel to that gap within his own society.

Thurman didn’t just notice that gap, but lived in that gap and recognized Jesus’ genius to be the free offering of tools to survive the implications of that gap for the oppressed. More than that, he offered personal connection as a way to bridge that gap. West too offers a bridge, a reflection that another gap exists, one between the economic well to do and those of whatever race who are on the other side. Additionally, West’s method of crossing the gap is a society that invites everyone to actively participate in our collective life, flattened non-hierarchical democracy as a method of filling in that gap for good.

Monday, July 15, 2024

Burning Bridges (Post-Modernity)

Burning Bridges (Post-Modernity)

Descarte and John Caputo

 

Scriptures: Matthew 5:1-11 and 1 Corinthians 1:18-31

          What does blessing mean, if it is for the poor? How can mourners and those who are persecuted be blessed? Happy are those, in the most unhappy of plights?

What is wisdom, if it does not see God in the world? What is strength, if it is only used to slam a boot on the messiah’s shoulder? What too is folly or weakness, if it lays flat all that this world holds dear? How does all political and religious might stack up to God on a cross?

Both of these texts short-circuit expectations and give such nuance to words like wisdom and blessed that they make language weird. If you think you have power, you don’t have power. If you think you understand blessing, you don’t understand blessing. The prevailing stories of political might and religious holiness—that the crucified are criminal and those that die upon a cross cursed—aren’t true or God ordained, in light of the God who is revealed to us on the cross.

          Likewise, the post-modern project seeks to weird language, and short-circuit unreflective expectations; it punctures big stories societies tell themselves and looks at the world from its underside.

Legos a Metaphor:

          Legos are amazing. On one hand, they are a really neat way to make a model, be it an airplane or fire house, castle or pirate ship. On the other hand, they are an amazing way to let your imagination go wild, the pieces of a pirate ship can be rearranged and made into an RV or multiple little boats or a cave. For that matter, the firehouse and the castle can be combined in ways that don’t look anything like what’s on the box.

          And those two ways we play with Legos, as model kits and as building blocks for the imagination, are a good way to think about modernity and post-modernity. Modernity would say the building blocks of life fit in a particular way, Post-Modernity would say, “The connection between things is not clear.”

          Just to build out from that model:

-Modernity would say, “I think, therefore I am.” Reality can be ascertained by an individual mind looking at the world and gathering data. Observation is how we build knowledge.

Post-modernity would say, “There are eyes and minds that you can not know.” It would question and “deconstruct” the observations of Modernity.

-Modernity sees Truth as universal and objective.

Post-modernity sees truths as relative and subjective.

-Modernity tries to tell a grand narrative, a big story about the world.

Post-modernity declares, as I stated before and I’ll state again, “The connection between things is not clear,” and so telling a larger story about them is an act of power and will.

 

Descartes:

Rene Descartes lived during the brutal wars of religion in Europe. He wondered, quite sincerely, which Dogma that people are killing one another over, is true? How do you ascertain truth at all?

Eventually he came to a novel solution. Truth comes from an individual mind observing the world. “I think, therefore I am.” Our observations of the world are the starting place for finding truth.

It is from this set of assumptions that the modern world is born. With enough observational power big stories can be told, grand narratives that are universal in scope. The surety of dogma can be replaced with the surety of observation and measurement.

           

Caputo:

          John Caputo is a post-modern theologian who sees the post-modern rallying cry, “The connection between things is not clear!” as one deeply in line with the Christian faith.

In fact, for Caputo, deconstruction—taking apart the Lego model and wondering if the pieces could be put together differently; noticing the ways that the choices that went into the construction were not done in a dispassionate and objective manner, but indeed were filled with biases and passions—is an act of idol smashing. Any story, Caputo would say, that is big enough to be totalizing, is also big enough to be an act of idolatry.

Caputo’s ultimate example of deconstruction is the cross. God is executed by our big totalizing ideas. God is executed, and when you realize that’s the case, everything else in this world, the way we’ve fashioned the world that allows for our killing of God incarnate, is suspect, is fair game to be questioned, called out as subjective and relative, unmasked as acts of power and will. If the powers of observation can’t see God at work in the world, perhaps they can’t apprehend a universal truth as well as they would claim.

 

Conclusion:

          There is a chasm between the modern world and the post-modern world. It seems that once you cross that chasm you can not help but burn the bridge behind you. The act of deconstructing big stories and protestations of objectivity are alienating. Yet it is worth noticing that both modernity and post-modernity can come out of faithful longings. Descartes desired a way to know truth in the face of an explosion of dogmas, and Caputo wields deconstruction against the many idols of the modern age.