Monthly Archives: August 2025

Dear American Children: Just say “No” to Books.

Kierkegaard’s Ghost

(News that’s fake, but credible)

Dear children:

Books are dangerous. They can make you sad. They can confuse you. Books can make you question the wisdom of your elders who love you and only want the best for you. That is why the adults in your life are busy removing books from your school libraries. We here at Kierkegaard’s Ghost know you understand that thinking is a dangerous activity and not something you should be doing by or for yourself at your tender age. We know you understand that your parents, your schools, your churches and your government know far better than you do what you should be reading and what you should be thinking about. That is why they are working so  hard to rid the world of books and the harm they do. Nevertheless, in spite of all this hard work on behalf of those who love you, books remain a significant threat to your wellbeing. Books are still accessible to you in places like public libraries, book stores, online book sellers such as Amazon and at used book distributers like thriftbooks.com for reduced prices. You might even run across them in your parents’ personal library. Thus, to further protect you and help you avoid exposure to thoughts, ideas and information that should not be infecting your innocent minds, we are providing you with a list of the most dangerous books identified and banned in your schools.

List of books not to be read by children or young people.

Adventures of Huckleberry Finn

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer

All Boys Aren’t Blue

Animal Farm

Anne Frank: Diary of a Young Girl

Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret.

As I Lay Dying

Asking About Sex and Growing Up

Beloved

The Bluest Eye

Brave New World

Bridge to Terabithia

The Call of the Wild

Catch-22

The Catcher in the Rye

The Color Purple

Deenie

Fahrenheit 451

The Grapes of Wrath

The Great Gatsby

The Handmaid’s Tale

Heather Has Two Mommies

The Hunger Games

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

In the Night Kitchen

James and the Giant Peach

The Jungle

Lord of the Flies

The Lord of the Rings

My Mom’s Having a Baby!

Nineteen Eighty-Four

Of Mice and Men

The Pigman

Rainbow Boys

The Satanic Verses

Slaughterhouse-Five

Snow Falling on Cedars

Sons and Lovers

The Sun Also Rises

To Kill a Mockingbird

Ulysses

A Wrinkle in Time

These are some of the most dangerous books. But remember, all books are potentially dangerous. If you find a book, treat it as you would a bottle with a skull and crossbones on the label. DO NOT open, examine or even read the dust jacket. Also, please note that we may inadvertently have failed to delete links to these books that might inform you of their authors, their contents and the ideas they contain as well as to places from which they might be obtained. As mature and responsible children, we are confident that you will not take advantage of our carelessness to get your hands on these books and pry into matters your elders deem inappropriate for you.

Very Truly Yours,

Staff of Kierkegaard’s Ghost

**************************************************************

FAKE NEWS ALERT: The above article is satirical. The events it describes didn’t happen.  “There are people who will say that this whole account is a lie, but a thing isn’t necessarily a lie even if it didn’t necessarily happen.” John Steinbeck

Disciples as Resident Aliens

TWELFTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Proverbs 25:6-7

Psalm 112

Hebrews 13:1-8, 15-16

Luke 14:1, 7-14

Prayer of the Day: O God, you resist those who are proud and give grace to those who are humble. Give us the humility of your Son, that we may embody the generosity of Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

“For here we have no lasting city, but we are looking for the city that is to come.” Hebrews 13:14.

As those who follow me regularly know, I practiced law in New Jersey for eighteen years of my professional life. My practice consisted primarily of civil litigation. A lawsuit is a slow, cumbersome and expensive way to resolve disputes, That is why the vast majority litigants settle their claims rather than face the uncertainty and incur the expense of a jury trial. Still, there are risks on both sides of the equation. Settlement before trial risks leaving money on the table, while trying the case can result in no recovery at all. A case might appear strong and promise a big money judgment. But good attorneys know that they don’t know what they don’t know. That is why before an attorney tries a case or recommends settlement, the attorney assesses the value of the case, the strengths and weaknesses of the evidence on both sides. To facilitate this process, the rules of court have established procedures for what is called “discovery.” Attorneys on both sides of the case are permitted, within limits, to demand documents and examine the parties and their witnesses under oath prior to trial.

This might all sound straightforward. But it is not. Take document demands, for example. Documents may contain a wealth of information, but not all of it is subject to disclosure. A document may contain relevant information that is discoverable, but also information about a party or witness that is personal, private and unrelated to the case. Or the document might contain references to communications between the parties and their attorneys. As such, they would be exempt from the requirement from disclosure by the “attorney client privilege.” Thus, when attorneys produce documents to the opposing side, they take care to redact (black out) those portions of the document they believe constitute protected information. Naturally, attorneys interpret these legal protections as broadly as possible to avoid disclosing as much information as possible, particularly if they regard that information as harmful to their case. This, in turn, results in numerous applications to the court which must review the documents to ensure that the information redacted is, in fact, legally protected. Thus, every attorney knows that when documents are produced, the juiciest pieces of information are the ones that have been blacked out.

The above passage from the Letter to the Hebrews has, for reasons known only to God and the creators of the lectionary, been redacted from our reading today. Quite predictably, it is both juicy and relevant. The author admonishes his hearers “Do not be carried away by all kinds of strange teachings…” Hebrews 13:9. Understand that the writer is addressing a catastrophic horror experienced by disciples of Jesus along with all Jews generally, namely, the sack of Jerusalem and the destruction of the Temple in 70 C.E. Central to much of First Century Judaism, the temple appears to have been highly significant to early disciples of Jesus who also identified as Jews. Luke’s gospel begins and ends in the Temple. According to the Book of Acts, the temple was one of the earliest places of worship for the disciples. The temple’s destruction, frequently thought to be a sign the end times, was deemed the harbinger God’s reign. All four gospels discourage this expectation, which leads one to believe that it must have been present among early believers.

The believers addressed in the Letter to the Hebrews appear to have come unmoored, not knowing quite where they are geographically, historically or religiously. The temple and holy city had been destroyed, but the reign of God did not come. The disciple’s connection to the larger Jewish community was fraying.[1] Persecution, though not yet at the point of requiring martyrdom, was afflicting the community. Under these circumstances, communities are vulnerable to “all kinds of strange teachings,” baseless rumors and wild conspiracy theories that promise to make sense out of their fears, give them certainty and help them find direction. The QAnon phenomenon is a good contemporary example of what can happen when people are disoriented by a world that is unsettled, uncertain and changing just too damned fast. The temptation is strong to grab at any explanation that makes sense out of a senseless world, no matter how lacking in sense that explanation is.   

The author of the anonymous letter to the Hebrews acknowledges these realities of disappointed hope, uncertainty and persecution, but goes on to point out that they are not anomalies. To the contrary, rootlessness, exile, alien status and even the life of the fugitive are the very nature of discipleship. After delivering a stirring roll call of heroes of faith from the Hebrew Scriptures who faced the very dangers the community is now experiencing, the author points out that “these died in faith without having received the promises, but from a distance they saw and greeted them. They confessed that they were strangers and foreigners on the earth, for people who speak in this way make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of the land that they had left behind, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better homeland, that is, a heavenly one.”  Hebrews 11:13-16.

This message is critical for a church dwelling in a world that is increasingly nationalistic, tribalistic and divided along the fault lines of politics, religion and morality. These words from the book of Hebrews are critical and liberating for a church that, for most of the two millennia of its existence, has served as the moral and religious organ of one state or another. The extent to which the church has become symbiotically related to the state is nowhere better illustrated than in eastern Europe where Russian Orthodox Christians and Ukrainian Orthodox Christians are killing each other. The same nationalistic heresy is found in our American churches, most of which still sport the American flag in their sanctuaries and bless their nation’s wars on civic occasions. Clearly, however, in circumstances under which Christians answer the call to kill human beings made in God’s image in the name of nation, ideology, family honor or some other high cause, they are rejecting the reign of God and the City which alone is home to God’s pilgrim people and whose witness is to the one, holy, catholic and apostolic church transcending all humanly created artificial distinctions within the human family. To be a disciple of Jesus is to be first, foremost and always a citizen of the City of God. We reside elsewhere only as resident aliens.   

 The great theologian, preacher and teacher, Karl Barth addressed this ailment in 1914 at the outbreak of the First World War:

“In the political sphere the Church will always and in all circumstances be interested primarily in human beings and not in some abstract cause or other, whether it be anonymous capital or the state as such (the functioning of its departments!) or the honor of the nation or the progress of civilization or culture or the idea, however conceived, of the historical development of the human race.” Karl Barth, Community, State and Church.

Here is a Black spiritual, the authorship of which is unknown. Suffice to say that it was produced within a community that understands better than most American Christians what it means to be a resident alien in a land that his both hostile to God’s reign and to God’s people.

Poor Wayfaring Stranger

I’m just a poor wayfaring stranger,
I’m trav’ling through this world below;
There is no sickness, toil, nor danger,
In that bright world to which I go.
I’m going there to see my father,
I’m going there no more to roam;
I’m just a going over Jordan,
I’m just a going over home.

I know dark clouds will gather o’er me,
I know my pathway’s rough and steep;
But golden fields lie out before me,
Where weary eyes no more shall weep.
I’m going there to see my mother,
She said she’d meet me when I come;
I’m just a going over Jordan,
I’m just a going over home.

I want to sing salvations story,
In concert with the blood-washed band;
I want to wear a crown of glory,
When I get home to that good land.
I’m going there to see my brothers,
They passed before me one by one;
I’m just a going over Jordan,
I’m just a going over home.

I’ll soon be free from every trial,
This form will rest beneath the sod;
I’ll drop the cross of self-denial,
And enter in my home with God.
I’m going there to see my Saviour,
Who shed for me His precious blood;
I’m just a going over Jordan,
I’m just a going over home.

Source: American Religious Poems, Edited by Harold Bloom and Jesse Zuba (c. 2006 by Literary Classics of the United States). The origins of this song/poem are unclear. It may have multiple religious and cultural influences. The use of coded language common in Negro spirituals points to African American origins. The “crossing the River Jordan” may refer to crossing the Ohio River on the journey north to freedom. The “way” that is “rough and steep” could easily refer to the arduous and dangerous journey through the southern slave states and the “beauteous fields” that “lie just before” to the promise of a life of liberty in Canada or the northern states. In 1905 Black composer Samuel Coleridge-Taylor included the poem under the title “Pilgrim’s Song” in a set of piano arrangements based on melodies from African American hymnody. Over the last century it has found its way into a number of mainline hymnals but not, alas, into our Lutheran books of worship.


[1] It is perhaps a desire to remain rooted in the Jewish community that made some members of the church addressed in Hebrews overly concerned with “regulations about food.” Hebrews 13:9.

Sabbath-Pushing Back Against the Work Ethic

ELEVENTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Isaiah 58:9b-14

Psalm 103:1-8

Hebrews 12:18-29

Luke 13:10-17

Prayer of the Day: O God, mighty and immortal, you know that as fragile creatures surrounded by great dangers, we cannot by ourselves stand upright. Give us strength of mind and body, so that even when we suffer because of human sin, we may rise victorious through your Son, Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

“…the leader of the synagogue, indignant because Jesus had cured on the Sabbath, kept saying to the crowd, ‘There are six days on which work ought to be done; come on those days and be cured and not on the Sabbath day.’” Luke 13:14.

“…ought not this woman, a daughter of Abraham whom Satan bound for eighteen long years, be set free from this bondage on the Sabbath day?” Luke 13:16.

Technically speaking, the leader of the synagogue was right. Work ought not to be done on the Sabbath. The Sabbath was given to protect us from the tyranny of work. That is not to say that work is evil. To the contrary, the first human beings were tasked with caring for God’s garden in paradise. Work is a blessing. It is the means by which we care for the earth and for one another. Accordingly, when properly directed and exercised, it gives meaning, purpose and direction to life. But like all of God’s blessings, it has the potential to become a curse when the gift is elevated above the Giver or when it becomes a tool of greed and oppression rather than an instrument of service.

Our relationship to work in American capitalist society is complex to say the least. We tend to view labor as a commodity and judge the worth of individuals by the market value of their skills and the work of which they are capable. As a result, manual labor requiring few skills but demanding strenuous effort is considered cheap. The people who perform it are underpaid, overworked, often lack essential medical coverage and are seldom able to save enough to live their final days in dignity and security. These people often work in dangerous and unsanitary conditions doing jobs that upper middle class Americans would never do. Yet without this army of workers who clean our restrooms, collect our garbage, clean our offices, harvest our fruits and vegetables, slaughter and process our meat, deliver goods to the supermarkets and stack the shelves, our everyday lives would grind to a halt. Their value and the labor they contribute far exceeds their compensation.

Work is an obsession with us. The worst insult you can fling at anyone of us is to call us lazy. We take a perverse pride in letting everyone know how busy we are, how much we have to do and how little time we have for anything other than work. I internalized that compulsion early on and brought it with me into my ministerial career. Whenever asked how I was doing by a family member, a member of my church or a colleague, my reflex answer was “busy,” whether I really was or not. When serving my parish in New Jersey, one of my guilty pleasures was taking a walk to the Dairy Queen a couple of blocks from my office to enjoy a small hot fudge sundae. I say “guilty,” because there was always that voice in back of my head reminding me of everything else I could be doing. There were always hospital visits to be made, meetings to prepare for and worship planning to be done. In reality, the half hour I spent eating ice cream had no substantial effect on my ability to get these things done. No matter how many hours I worked or how much effort I put into my job, there were always loose ends, unfinished tasks and more to be done than a day would allow. But something inside me would not accept that. Because there is no end to all that needs to be done, there should be no end to my efforts. I knew, of course, that working too hard makes one less productive, less effective and less satisfied with one’s job. In spite of this knowledge, my compulsive drive to be at work usually won out. Ultimately, this obsession with work takes a toll on our physical and mental health. I had just enough will power to get enough rest to avoid that.

The Sabbath was given to protect us from the dangers of work by keeping it in its proper place. If nothing else, forcing us to spend a day doing nothing reminds us that we can put our work aside and, lo and behold, the sun still rises the next morning. The Bible tells us that God rested on the seventh day following creation. If God can put aside God’s work and rest, can we really say with a straight face that our work is so urgent and so important we cannot afford to put it aside for half a hour’s rest?

Though we in the Christian tradition have associated Sabbath with worship, it is more properly understood as a labor law. Recall that at the time the Torah was revealed to Moses, the people of Israel had been newly liberated from slavery in Egypt. Slaves of imperial Egypt were regarded in much the same way as laborers are considered in late capitalist America. They were fungible units, valued by the amount of work that could be squeezed out of them. God did not intend for Israel to become another Egypt. Accordingly, God mandated a day of rest to be observed by everyone, including slaves, animals and even the land itself. In Israel, labor was to be focused on producing food and shelter for all, including those unable to feed and shelter themselves. It was not to be exploited to enrich the few at the expense of the many or for empire building. No one should be crushed under the tyranny of uncompensated labor.

On its face, the objection of the synagogue leader seems reasonable. There are six days on which this woman could have come to be healed. Moreover, she had only to wait until sundown when the Sabbath ended. Her condition was not urgent-she had been living with it for eighteen years. So why the rush? Why not wait a few hours until after the Sabbath? The answer is precisely because this was a Sabbath day, the day of rest for all God’s people and all of creation. Take it from me, a person does not get much rest when the back is hurting. If you are permitted to water your domestic animals on the Sabbath so that they can enjoy their rest, should not the same apply to a human being deprived of rest by chronic pain and disability? What better time to lift the yoke of suffering than on God’s Sabbath? So far from violating the Sabbath, Jesus was honoring it by extending the rest it promises to the crippled woman in our gospel lesson.

Jesus is not, as some of us in the Christian tradition have maintained, abrogating the Sabbath. He does not regard it as a legalistic burden that can safely be ignored. To the contrary, Jesus takes the Sabbath far more seriously than does the leader of the synagogue. Jesus would extend the reach of Sabbath rest to all who find themselves excluded from it. So we need to ask ourselves, who are those among us excluded from Sabbath rest? Can we recognize them among low wage earners holding down two, sometimes three jobs only to live paycheck to paycheck? Can we recognize those denied Sabbath rest by medical insurers who routinely deny coverage for treatment to the most ill and vulnerable among us? Have we excluded ourselves from Sabbath rest by our manic obsession with success, wealth and recognition? How is Jesus inviting us to enter into Sabbath rest and extend that rest to our neighbors?

Here is a poem by Stanley Bradshaw expressing the longing for the kind of sustaining rest human beings need to be nourished, restored and re-inspired to live will.

Restful Ground

I have known solitudes, but none has been

Such as I seek this hour: a place so still

That the darkened grasses wake to no sound at all

Nor float their shadowy fingers in a wind.

I have known quiet in places without dark trees;

But after this clanging of hours, I seek a silence

Where the only motion is the quiet breathing

Of dark boughs gazing on the restful ground.

Source: Poetry, (March 1931). Stanley Burnshaw (1906 –2005) was an American poet. In addition to poetry, he is known for his works on social justice.  Raised by his parents who immigrated from England, Burnshaw was born and brought up in New York City. He began his secondary education at the University of Pittsburgh, transferred to Columbia University and then transferred back to the University of Pittsburgh where he earned his bachelor’s degree. After traveling throughout Europe, he returned to New York where he earned a master’s degree at New York University. Bradshaw held several positions early in his career, including assistant copywriter, advertising manager, drama critic and occasional book reviewer. He first became the editor-in-chief for the Cordon Company in New York, then president and editor-in-chief of the Dryden Press, a firm he started. Dryden merged with Holt, Rinehart and Winston in the late 1950s. Throughout his career, Burnshaw published many works of prose and poetry as well as books and editorials. He remained active in these and many other aspects of his career until his death in September 2005. You can read more about Stanley Burnshaw and sample more of his poetry at the Poetry Foundation website.

In Defense of Polarization

TENTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Jeremiah 23:23-29

Psalm 82

Hebrews 11:29—12:2

Luke 12:49-56

Prayer of the Day: O God, judge eternal, you love justice and hate oppression, and you call us to share your zeal for truth. Give us courage to take our stand with all victims of bloodshed and greed, and, following your servants and prophets, to look to the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, your Son, Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

“Do you think that I have come to bring peace to the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division!” Luke 12:51.

I recently heard a speaker at a Christian gathering say, “I am glad this country is polarized. I wish it were more polarized.” That remark sent some shock waves through the audience. I don’t doubt Jesus’ remarks had much the same effect. We usually view polarization, division and dissension as harmful and destructive. Many times, they are. I have lived through family rifts, church conflicts and political upheavals that disrupted the efforts of communities to pursue the common good, led churches to disband, ended friendships and alienated family members from one another. There is no question that polarization is destructive and contrary to God’s mission of reconciling the world to God’s self.

That said, there is something worse than polarization and conflict. Far worse than open conflict is a false peace offered by prophets, preachers and demagogues who “treat[] the wound of [God’s] people carelessly, saying, ‘peace, peace,’ when there is no peace.” Jeremiah 6:14. Far worse it is to remain silent in the face of comforting lies, cruelty and injustice, all for the sake of avoiding conflict, than to speak a hard truth rupturing the façade of a false peace that hides, shelters and perpetuates evil. Our wounded world cannot be healed with soothing words assuring it that all is well, no repentance is required and the status quo is the way things are and should always be. Such peace is no peace at all. It is poles apart from the peace God wills for our planet.

In order for the peace of God to reign, peace that follows justice, repentance and reconciliation in just that order, the false peace resting on the appeasement of evil, toleration of injustice and blindness to the suffering and persecution of our neighbors must be shattered. I suggest that the job of a disciple of Jesus in days such as these is to be a disturber of the peace. There can be no peaceful coexistence with a government that uses its military against peaceful protesters, sends masked goons to snatch honest and hardworking people from their homes, schools and places of work, divides families, propagates racist propaganda, ruthlessly persecutes transgender families and their children and denies medical care and treatment to the most vulnerable among us. These are not the ways of a righteous nation. They are the ways of an evil empire, the likes of which Jesus condemns in his parable of the last judgment and John of Patmos foretells destruction in the book of Revelation. There is no middle ground between equality and racism, rapists and their victims, truth and “alternative facts,” otherwise known as “lies.” There is no middle ground between the peace of God’s reign over a new creation and the fragile peace of despots and cowardly subjects desperately holding together the crumbling remnants of the old. Standing with Jesus sometimes means standing against your country, standing against members of your church or even standing against your own family.

I have previously related the story of Clarence Jordan and his part in founding Koinonia Farm. I think that story bears repeating here. Recall that Koinonia Farm was an intentional Christian community established in the State of Georgia back in 1942. It continues as a vital witness to the gospel to this day. Clarence Jordan intended for Koinonia to be a “demonstration plot for the Kingdom of God.”  For him, this meant a community of believers sharing life and following the example of the first Christian communities as described in the Acts of the Apostles. In order to bear witness to the church as a family in which there is no Jew or Greek, slave or free, male or female, Koinonia was constituted from its inception as a place where African Americans lived side by side with their white sisters and brothers. Not surprisingly, Koinonia Farm was a frequent target of Klan hostility and government initiated opposition in the deeply segregated south. In his book, Unleashing the Scripture, Duke University professor of religion and ethics Stanley Haueraus relates a pivotal incident in the story about Koinonia.

Shortly after Koinonia was founded, Georgia’s state attorney general made several attempts to outlaw the community, confiscate its property and evict the residents. Clarence Jordan sought the help of his brother Robert Jordan, a prominent lawyer with political aspirations. Clarence asked Robert to take on the defense of Koinonia Farm. According to a passage from a book written by James McClendon, the following exchange took place:

“Clarence, I can’t [represent you]. You know my political aspirations. Why, if I represented you, I might lose my job, my house, everything I’ve got.”

We might lose everything too, Bob,” [Clarence replied.]

“It’s different for you.”

“Why is it different? I remember, it seems to me, that you and I joined the church the same Sunday, as boys. I expect when we came forward the preacher asked me about the same question he did you. He asked me, ‘Do you accept Jesus as your Lord and Savior.’ And I said, ‘Yes.’ What did you say?”

“I follow Jesus, Clarence, up to a point.”

“Could that point by any chance be—the cross?”

“That’s right, [Clarence]. I follow him to the cross, but not on the cross. I’m not getting myself crucified.”

“Then, [Robert,] I don’t believe you’re a disciple. You’re an admirer of Jesus, but not a disciple. I think you ought to go back to the church you belong to, and tell them you’re an admirer and not a disciple.”

“Well now, [Robert replied,] if everyone who felt like I do did that, we wouldn’t have a church, would we?”

“The question is” Clarence said, ‘Do you have a church?’”

My own Lutheran tradition is big on giving government the benefit of the doubt. Citing (mis-citing) Saint Paul in his letter to the Romans, we have often drawn the wrong conclusion that whatever government exists has been established by God, serves as God’s minister of justice and should therefore receive the same degree of obedience as given to God.[1] Even unjust, ineffective or foolish laws must be obeyed-unless they forbid preaching of the gospel. Then and only then do we “obey God rather than human authority.” That is true, so long as we understand that proclaiming the gospel is not a matter of mere preaching, but of practicing the way of Jesus as he lived the precepts of the Sermon on the Mount which ultimately led to his execution under government authority. Showing mercy, granting protection and offering care to our neighbors who are transgender, undocumented or the victims of federal, state or local censorship requires breaking some humanly instituted laws. Discipleship requires no less, even if it splits churches, alienates long time members, divides families and triggers legal prosecution. A church divided over the gospel is far preferable to a church united under anything less.

These times call for preachers unafraid to unleash the sword of division on behalf of our most vulnerable neighbors in whom we cannot help but recognize the face of Jesus. Matthew 25:37-41. I have said it before and I will say it again: If you, as a preacher, are unable or unwilling to do this work, then for the sake of the church, for the sake of the world and for your own sake, step out of the pulpit and make way for someone who will.

Here is a poem by Denise Levertov that shatters the false and fragile peace of silence and complicity.

Goodbye to Tolerance

Genial poets, pink-faced

earnest wits—

you have given the world

some choice morsels,

gobbets of language presented

as one presents T-bone steak

and Cherries Jubilee.

Goodbye, goodbye,

                            I don’t care

if I never taste your fine food again,

neutral fellows, seers of every side.

Tolerance, what crimes

are committed in your name.

And you, good women, bakers of nicest bread,

blood donors. Your crumbs

choke me, I would not want

a drop of your blood in me, it is pumped

by weak hearts, perfect pulses that never

falter: irresponsive

to nightmare reality.

It is my brothers, my sisters,

whose blood spurts out and stops

forever

because you choose to believe it is not your business.

Goodbye, goodbye,

your poems

shut their little mouths,

your loaves grow moldy,

a gulf has split

                     the ground between us,

and you won’t wave, you’re looking

another way.

We shan’t meet again—

unless you leap it, leaving

behind you the cherished

worms of your dispassion,

your pallid ironies,

your jovial, murderous,

wry-humored balanced judgment,

leap over, un-

balanced? … then

how our fanatic tears

would flow and mingle

for joy …

Source: Breathing the Water (New Directions Publishing Corporation, 1987). Denise Levertov (1923–1997) never received a formal education. Nevertheless, she created a highly regarded body of poetry that earned her recognition as one of America’s most respected poets. Her father, Paul Philip Levertov, was a Russian Jew who converted to Christianity and subsequently moved to England where he became an Anglican minister.  Levertov grew up in a household surrounded by books and people talking about them in many languages. During World War II, Levertov pursued nurse’s training and spent three years as a civilian nurse at several hospitals in London. Levertov came to the United States in 1948, after marrying American writer Mitchell Goodman. During the 1960s Levertov became a staunch critic of the Vietnam war, a topic addressed in many of her poems of that era. Levertov died of lymphoma at the age of seventy-four. You can read more about Denise Levertov and sample more of her poetry at the Poetry Foundation Website.


[1] The reference is to Romans 13:1. Paul says no more than what Jeremiah and Isaiah said concerning Assyria and Babylon, namely, that they were being used by God as instruments of God’s judgment. Consequently, resistance to them would be futile. It is a long and speculative leap from there to conclude that Israel should support these nations in their military campaigns of conquest or that Christians should support the exploitive policies of the Roman Empire. Thus, while disciples of Jesus should pay their taxes, recycle their refuse and follow the rules of the road when operating an automobile, it does not follow that they should acquiesce, much less participate in governmental acts of oppression.

Living in the Future We Anticipate

NINTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Genesis 15:1-6

Psalm 33:12-22

Hebrews 11:1-3, 8-16

Luke 12:32-40

Prayer of the Day: Almighty God, you sent your Holy Spirit to be the life and light of your church. Open our hearts to the riches of your grace, that we may be ready to receive you wherever you appear, through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

“Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions and give alms. Make purses for yourselves that do not wear out, an unfailing treasure in heaven, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” Luke 12:32-34.

The reign of God is a gift. According to the scriptural witness, there is much in the world that is hostile to God’s good and gracious will for it. Human creatures, though created in God’s image, have had their hearts and minds infected hateful ideologies, violent politics and self destructive behavior. Many unspeakable horrors take place on this planet that God does not will, does not cause and does not passively allow to take place. These forces of evil will have their say, but theirs will not be the last word. God’s reign of diversity, equity and inclusion of people of every nation, tribe and tongue is the future toward which all creation is moving. And there isn’t a damn thing anybody can do about it.

The reign of God comes in God’s way, by God’s chosen means and in God’s own time. It is not God’s will “that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance.” II Peter 3:9. God’s strength is God’s patience. Our weakness is our impatience. Waiting for all to be drawn into the orbit of God’s love and woven into the fabric of God’s new creation is nearly impossible for a people raised on fast food, fast internet, fast cars and speed dating. For an impatient, fast moving “let’s get this done” kind of people, a God who raptures to heaven those of us who are ready and leaves the rest of the world to burn might sound appealing. But ours is not a God interested in saving a few souls from a sinking ship. God is intent on saving the ship. And because God has all eternity to work with, God will take whatever time is necessary to win every heart, reconcile every enemy, heal each of creation’s many wounds. It will take as long as it takes. And there isn’t a damn thing anybody can do about it.

Because the reign of God is a gift that God gives to us on God’s own terms, we are not responsible for implementing it. That is the liberating word Jesus delivers to his disciples. No need to be afraid. The kingdom is already yours. There is nothing you need to do or can do to obtain it. No one can stop it from coming. That, however, does not mean that Jesus’ disciples are to be idle. Though the reign of God is God’s future, God’s future is God’s present and God’s presence for the disciples. They are invited to live in God’s future now because, for them, the reign of God has already begun. They are free, therefore, to sell their possessions and give them for alms-a move that appears reckless and foolish to those outside of God’s reign. But as Jesus pointed out in last Sunday’s gospel narrating the parable of the “rich fool,” the pursuit of security in wealth and the power it brings is a fool’s game. The smart money is on Jesus. The only sure way to build wealth is to invest in God’s reign by building relationships with the outcast, the poor and the persecuted who are the objects of God’s passionate concern. Mercy, compassion, justice and reconciliation are the stuff out of which the new creation is made. Everything else is consigned to the trash heap.

So Jesus warns his disciples to be dressed, lit up and ready to receive the reign of God whenever it might show up. This is essential because, however distant the consummation of God’s reign might be, there is no telling when and where beams of light from its distant dawning might break into our present. There is no telling when, where and under what conditions we might have the opportunity to offer life altering assistance to a neighbor in need. There is no predicting what we might learn if only we can bridle our tongues long enough to listen. There is no telling when we might be called upon to speak truth to power or put ourselves between our vulnerable neighbors and the jaws of an oppressive regime. Jesus assures us that he walks with us in our daily lives, eager to break into our day with opportunities to live the coming reign of God in the here and now. Do not be afraid, little flock. God will give you the kingdom. Just see to it that you are watching and ready for it!

Here is a poem by Rakiya Foreman about the interplay between the transitory nature of each day and the persistence of dawn throughout its passing and at its demise as a lingering promise of the new day beyond the horizon. This persistent whisper of dawn is perhaps not unlike the reign of God which, though ever in front of us, is nonetheless ever present with us.

Whispers of Dawn

In the cradle of dawn, where shadows fade,

Whispers of light through the branches wade,

Soft as a sigh on the morning breeze,

A songbird awakens among the trees. 

Silver dewdrops on petals gleam, 

Caught on the web of a waking dream,

The earth, a canvas, dawn its brush, 

Painting the world in a tender hush.

Hues of amber, gold, and rose, 

Embrace the sky as the new day grows, 

Mountains stretch in a languid yawn, 

Welcoming the birth of dawn. 

Rivers murmur a quiet tune, 

Reflecting the light of the crescent moon,

As it bids farewell to night, 

Making way for the sun’s first light.

In the stillness, hearts find peace, 

Moments of grace in the morning’s crease,

Nature’s chorus, a symphony, 

Echoes through the land, wild and free. 

Footsteps tread on paths anew,

As dreams of night give way to dew,

Eyes wide open to the light, 

Embracing the world in morning’s sight.

A child’s laughter, pure and clear, 

Breaks the silence, brings us near,

To the simple joys of day,

As dawn gently leads the way.

The world awakes, yet holds its breath,

In the sacred stillness of morning’s death,

As the sun climbs higher, bold and bright,

We bask in the warmth of its ancient light. 

Whispers of dawn, so soft, so true,

A promise of hope in the sky’s deep blue,

Each day a gift, each dawn a chance,

To join the world in nature’s dance. 

Through the day, we carry on,

With memories of the quiet dawn,

A reminder in the hectic day,

Of morning’s soft and gentle sway.

In the cradle of dusk, shadows blend, 

Another day comes to an end,

Yet whispers of dawn linger still,

A promise of light beyond the hill.

c. 2024 by Rakiya Foreman. Rakiya Foreman grew up in a rural area where she spent much of her time outdoors. Today she lives in the big city where she enjoys writing poetry. This poem is her attempt to capture and share the awe and hope she feels each time she witnesses dawn breaking.