FOURTH SUNDAY OF EASTER
Prayer of the Day: O God of peace, you brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus Christ, the great shepherd of the sheep. By the blood of your eternal covenant, make us complete in everything good that we may do your will, and work among us all that is well-pleasing in your sight, through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.
“After this I looked, and there was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, robed in white, with palm branches in their hands.” Revelation 7:9-10.
There are any number of ways to proclaim the Easter message through the lessons for this Sunday. God’s power over death is graphically illustrated in the raising of Tabatha through the ministry of Saint Peter. Of course, the twenty-third psalm opens up a portal into life’s journey through times of peace and plenty, threats from hostile forces and into the valley of shadow, accompanied always by the Shepherd whose faithfulness perseveres even in the face of death. In the gospel lesson, Jesus declares that God’s gift to Jesus’ sheep is eternal life and that no one can snatch those sheep out of his Father’s hand. Finally, the lesson from Revelation gives us a glimpse at God’s ultimate future in which all nations, tongues and peoples are united in joyful worship and praise. Though I think a preacher could go in any one or more of these angles, I am drawn this week to Revelation.
As I said last week, the Book of Revelation has been subject to some egregious hermeneutical malpractice throughout history. Rightly understood, John of Patmos’ visions provide hope and encouragement to seven struggling, marginalized and often persecuted communities of faith. They are not, as so many preachers of pre-millennial ilk contend, a jigsaw puzzle that, properly put together, will disclose how, when and under what circumstances the world will end. John writes to assure his churches that, small and insignificant as they might feel themselves to be, they are the first fruits of God’s new heaven and a new earth. It is not the predatory beasts representing imperial authority, wealth and power who prevail in the end. When all is said and done, the multitude “from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages” are found worshiping the Lamb who was slaughtered. The future belongs to worshipers of the Lamb, not those who pursue and rely upon raw imperial and economic power.
In a world where nationalism is on the rise and fascism is now mainline American politics, the message of Revelation is, as I said last week, more relevant and urgent than ever. In a political climate where the words, “America first” are on the lips of so many, the church needs to speak a firm and unequivocal “no.” America is not first in any sense whatsoever. The reign of God is first. Loyalty to the Lamb is first. One cannot recite the Pledge of Allegiance out of one side of the mouth while confessing the Apostles’ Creed out of the other. You either believe in one holy, catholic and apostolic church that relativizes all national, tribal, ethnic boundaries, or you put loyalty to these identities over and above your allegiance to Jesus and the reign of God he proclaims.
American believers, as I have often said before, generally lack the conceptual tools to distinguish between patriotism and faith. When John F. Kennedy addressed concerns about his Catholic faith and whether it might compromise his loyalty to America during his 1960 presidential campaign, he asserted that he would not be influenced by the Vatican and that, if elected, he would fulfill the responsibilities of the presidency without reservation. To be fair, Kennedy was responding to a pervasive suspicion on the part of many Americans that the Roman Catholic Church was out to subvert American democracy and surreptitiously infuse its faith through government channels. He wanted to make clear that he was not a political agent of the Vatican. But I believe he went further than a disciple of Jesus should go when he vowed he would not be influenced by his church. Can a follower of Jesus ever promise not to be influenced, formed and subject to Jesus and the community of faith to which that disciple belongs?
To his credit, Kennedy at least recognized that loyalty to the United States was distinguishable from loyalty to Christ and his church. That distinction is altogether lost on vice president J.D. Vance who stated recently that “as an American leader, but also just as an American citizen, your compassion belongs first to your fellow citizens….That doesn’t mean you hate people from outside of your own borders, but there’s this old-school [concept] — and I think it’s a very Christian concept, by the way — that you love your family, and then you love your neighbor, and then you love your community, and then you love your fellow citizens in your own country, and then, after that, you can focus and prioritize the rest of the world.”[1] This is a classic articulation of what some have termed, “Christian Nationalism.” There is, however, nothing Christian about it. It is simply plain old nationalism with a little Christian window dressing.
This week the cardinals of the Roman Catholic Church convene in conclave to elect a successor to Pope Francis. Should we protestants care? Is it any of our business? I believe it is. At our best, we Lutherans understand ourselves, not as a separate church, but as a confessing movement within the church catholic. There is, we believe, one church. For all of its many faults and shortcomings (all of which can be found within our own protestant faith communities), the Roman Catholic Church is the one Christian communion that, more than any other Christian body, transcends national borders, including a wide variety of “tribes and peoples and languages.” The Bishop of Rome has a huge platform from which to address our planet’s existential threats of climate change, thermonuclear war, increasing wealth disparity and authoritarian rule with the liberating good news of Jesus and the just and gentle reign of God he proclaims. All disciples of Jesus should be praying that the Holy Spirit will guide the cardinals in their deliberations to the selection of a humble, wise and courageous leader to speak from that platform.
That said, we are mindful that the cardinals are not electing the messiah. The new Pope will almost certainly not be “progressive” enough to satisfy many of us mainline protestants whose denominations have ordained women for decades, welcome LGBTQ+ folk and champion reproductive rights. A few thoughts on that score. First, the positions taken by the Roman Catholic Church on these issues are no different than those held by the Lutheran churches in which I grew up just five decades ago. It took our church centuries to arrive at the broader and more inclusive points of view we hold today. Is it realistic to expect everyone else’s opinions on these same matters to turn on a dime?
Second, whatever our official positions may be, the reality on the ground is often quite different. My own ELCA maintains what is, in effect, an apartheid system with respect to welcoming LGBTQ+ folk. There are “reconciling in Christ” churches that are openly safe and welcoming. But churches that do not so identify? They might be welcoming, but they might not. Women still face congregational skepticism, compensation inequity and obstacles to positions of leadership in our church. In short, our actual practice often falls short of our public witness.
Finally, I know many lay and pastoral leaders in the Roman Catholic Church who are working tirelessly to enhance the standing of women, broaden the church’s understanding of sexuality and build ecumenical bridges to other faith communities. I am old enough to remember being in their position within my own church as it moved at a snail’s pace opening public ministry to women, welcoming gay and lesbian couples as full participants and developing a compassionate approach to reproductive rights. We can and should support the Roman Catholic Church in its bold witness to God’s love for the earth and God’s special concern for the poor so elequently expressed by Pope Francis. At the same time we need to support those within that church seeking to reform it. After all, we protestants, especially those of us who identify as Lutheran, know well that we are all together in the process of reformation. We do not all arrive at the same place at the same time, whether as faith communities or individuals. In the meantime, we travel together by the light given us toward the end envisioned by John of Patmos, a vision that shapes, transforms and redeems our lives.
Here is a poem by Jones Very reflecting on the new heaven and earth to which John bears witness.
The New World
The night that has no star lit up by God,
The day that round men shines who still are blind,
The earth their grave-turned feet for ages trod,
And sea swept over by His mighty wind,
All these have passed away, the melting dream
That flitted o’er the sleeper’s half-shut eye,
When touched by morning’s golden-darting beam;
And he beholds around the earth and sky
That ever real stands, the rolling shores
And heaving billows of the boundless main,
That show, though time is past, no trace of years.
And earth restored he sees as his again,
The earth that fades not and the heavens that stand,
Their strong foundations laid by God’s right hand!
Source: American Religious Poems, Harold Bloom and Jesse Zuba, editors; pub. by Library of America, Inc. p. 96. This poem is in the public domain. Jones Very (1813–1880) Though a minor figure in the American poetic pantheon, Very’s work was highly regarded by such prominent figures as Ralph Waldo Emerson and Bronson Alcott. He studied at Harvard Divinity School until he succumbed to religious delusions that lead to his expulsion. His style bears the mark of his devotion to William Shakespeare whose sonnets he often emulated. You can find out more about Jones Very and sample more of his poetry at the Poetry Foundation website.
[1] Word on Fire, In this article, Dr. Richard Clements makes a valiant, if ultimately unpersuasive defense of Vance’s remarks, referring to the concept, “ordo amoris” or “the ordering of loves.” Vance’s remark drew a pointed response from none other than Pope Francis who stated unequivocally that “Christian love is not a concentric expansion of interests that little by little extend to other persons and groups.”
Peter's Outer Cape Portico 