TWENTIETH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Genesis 2:18-24

Psalm 8

Hebrews 1:1-4; 2:5-12

Mark 10:2-16

Prayer of the Day: Sovereign God, you have created us to live in loving community with one another. Form us for life that is faithful and steadfast, and teach us to trust like little children, that we may reflect the image of your Son, Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

“Whoever divorces his wife and marries another commits adultery against her; and if she divorces her husband and marries another, she commits adultery.” Mark 10:11.

“Therefore a man leaves his father and his mother and clings to his wife, and they become one flesh.” Genesis 2:24.

If you are going to preach on the text from Hebrews or the Psalms, then you would be well advised to use alternative texts for the gospel lesson and the reading from Genesis. That is because these two texts carry with them a tremendous load of interpretive baggage that will determine how they are heard and processed. Of particular concern are those persons in the congregation who are divorced; persons struggling with issues of gender identity; and, of course, gay and lesbian folk who may not see themselves in either the creation story or Jesus’ remarks on marriage and divorce. Thus, in my opinion, if these texts are to be read in worship, they must be addressed in the sermon.

A few points need to be made with respect to the gospel. First and foremost, it must be emphasized that the question put to Jesus about divorce is a man’s question asked by men in what was (and to what a large degree still is) a man’s world. In first century Judean culture, divorce was the prerogative of men. Women could not divorce their husbands.[1] In a world without equitable distribution, alimony or child support, divorce imposed a disproportionate burden on wives. Divorced women had the option of returning to their father’s household, though there was no guarantee they would be well received. A divorced woman brought shame on her family. If the divorced woman had no family to which she could return, her future was even more bleak. In the world where Jesus lived and moved, divorce was an instrument of oppression against women and perhaps their children as well.

Jesus responds to his opponents’ question about divorce by expanding the scope of the discussion. Jesus would have them know that Moses had quite a bit more to say about marriage than how to end it. Jesus reaches back to the creation narratives from Genesis, also attributed to Moses. God created men and women to be “partners.” They were to support and care for one another in a covenant relationship of mutual faithfulness. Of course, then and now, marriages fail for numerous reasons. But the point to be made is that the failure of a marriage does not mean that the partners’ responsibility for one another is at an end. Here it is important to make the point that persons who have ended their marriage and yet continue to honor their obligations to support their spouses and care for the children born during the course of the marriage are not the equivalent of the men Jesus addresses who would simply dispose of their wives for a newer model. Divorced couples who continue to cooperate in raising their children, honoring obligations incurred during the marriage and maintaining a caring (if not romantic) working relationship are to be applauded, encouraged and supported-not judged and condemned.   

Lurking in the background here is the issue of domestic abuse. These words of Jesus concerning divorce, taken out of their context, have lent support to the false belief that God would have a person remain in an abusive marriage rather than seek divorce or separation. As with the sabbath, marriage was made for the wellbeing of people, not people for the institution of marriage. When a marriage ceases to be a sanctuary of love, human maturation and security for all family members, it must be set aside just as surely as the sabbath must be set aside in the interest of human health and wellbeing. God does not will for anyone to be abused physically or emotionally. This point must be made emphatically. It would also be helpful to list in the bulletin for Sunday contact information of persons and agencies providing assistance to victims of domestic abuse.  

And now we come to the Genesis reading. This story has been widely cited as a “proof text” for the proposition that the Bible views marriage exclusively as a life long partnership between one man and one woman. Of course, that is not the case. The Bible recognizes polygamy and concubinage (sexual slavery) as legitimate forms of marriage. It all depends upon which texts you chose to fixate. This is the problem that always arises when we approach the Bible with our own concerns and agendas. We desperately want the Bible to give us a hard and fast definition of marriage. But God is not particularly concerned about that. The quotation of what appears to be an ancient saying about a man leaving his mother and cleaving to his wife comes at the end of the story. It serves more as an illustration than a prescription. What God is concerned about is loneliness. “It is not good,” says God, “that the man [earth creature] should be alone.” If we read this text from the standpoint of God’s priorities rather than our own moral, political and societal interests, I think we come to some very different conclusions. God wills for human beings to experience friendship, love and intimacy. It is not good for any human being to be deprived of these good gifts.

Finally, a word about Jesus’ allusion to the first chapter of Genesis in which the poet declares of the human race, “male and female [God] created them.” Genesis 1:27. This verse is often cited as a proof text for the proposition that one is either male or female with no room for any other sexual or gender identification. Yet the poet’s language throughout the first creation narrative puts the lie to this notion. God separated the light from the darkness, calling the light “day” and the darkness “night.” Nonetheless, the moon and the stars light up the night sky and shed their light upon the face of the earth. There are caves and ocean depths where the sun’s day light never reaches. God separated the land from the water, yet millions of square miles of the earth’s surface are occupied by intertidal zones, marshes, swamps and wetlands that are neither entirely land nor sea-all of which are critically important to the world’s ecological health. Why, then, should it surprise us that human sexual attraction and gender identity fall on the same diverse spectrum? It is important that our gospel and the traditional creation texts with which it is paired be proclaimed in a way that all people can see themselves in the sacred narrative as persons God made “good” and persons God wills to know friendship, love and intimacy.   

This is a lot to cram into a single twenty minute sermon. That is why I question the wisdom of the creators of the common lectionary in juxtaposing our readings in this way. I think these issues are better addressed in a discussion setting where the whole biblical witness can be brought to bear. Nevertheless, for those of you preachers who feel bound to the dictates of the common lectionary, I wish you a double share of God’s Spirit this Sunday.  You are going to need it.

Here is a poem by Rickey Laurentiis about a kind of loneliness that might well reflect that of Adam. It is the sort of loneliness that God means to eliminate.

Trans Loneliness

Martha P. Johnson

Source: Poetry (July/August 2024). Rickey Laurentiis is an American poet who was raised in New Orleans, Louisiana. They are the author of Boy with Thorn, a work that earned them the Cave Canem Poetry Prize and the Levis Reading Prize and the PEN/Osterweil Award. Laurentiis’ poems have appeared in Boston Review, Feminist Studies, The Kenyon Review, The Los Angeles Review of Books, New Republic, The New York Times and Poetry. They have been translated into Arabic, Spanish and Ukrainian. Laurentiis is the inaugural fellow in Creative Writing at the Center for African-American Poetry and Poetics. They are also a Lannan Fellow. You can read more about Rickey Laurentiis and sample more of their poetry at the Poetry Foundation website.

[1] This was not necessarily the case for Judaism in the diaspora where Jews were subject to the laws of foreign jurisdictions in which they lived. This may be why Jesus expands the prohibition on divorce to include women.

NINETEENTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Numbers 11:4-6, 10-16, 24-29

Psalm 19:7-14

James 5:13-20

Mark 9:38-50

Prayer of the Day: Generous God, your Son gave his life that we might come to peace with you. Give us a share of your Spirit, and in all we do empower us to bear the name of Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

“Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart
   be acceptable to you,
   O Lord, my rock and my redeemer.” Psalm 19:14.

A lot of preachers I have heard over the years begin their sermons with a recitation of this verse. It serves as a prayer that the preacher’s message might faithfully convey the good news of Jesus Christ and its implications for the hearers. Though I have never used this verse of scripture in that way, I find no fault with such usage. Nonetheless, the scope of the psalmist’s prayer far exceeds whatever concerns we might have about the quality of our preaching. These words concluding the psalm must be understood in light of all that comes before. This psalm is a meditation on the “Torah,” translated in our English Bibles as “law.” That is an unfortunate rendering. We tend to think of “law” in terms of rules, statutes and legal requirements. American Christians, deeply individualistic as we are, view law as antithetical to faith or “spirituality.” The Pharisees get a bad wrap in a lot of our preaching because they have been painted as “legalists” who put rules ahead of human needs, compassion and justice. No doubt some of them fit that description-as do a lot of Christians today. But, on the whole, modern Judaism, which derives largely from the Pharisaic tradition, views the Torah much differently.

While the rituals, customs and requirements spelled out in the first five books of the Hebrew Scriptures might strike us as restrictive, they were designed to guard Israel’s liberty won for it by its God in the Exodus. A reminder of God’s faithfulness was found in each task of daily life. Preparing and eating meals, washing clothes, butchering animals and planting crops all contained seeds of meditation, symbolic acts and reminders of the new existence to which the people of Israel had been called. It is also important to understand that the Torah is not a changeless prescription written in stone. Judaism has always recognized that the Torah speaks to the here and now. It requires interpretation, reinterpretation and fresh application to ever changing circumstances.

It is for this reason that the psalmist meditates on the Torah. Its commandments are not a collection of dry regulations. They are windows into a deeper understanding of God and the world God made. They are not a legalistic prison enclosing the heart and mind, but a platform from which the psalmist is enabled to look into mysteries, a launching pad for the imagination.

I think there is much to be learned from this understanding of Torah. A lot of Christians I have encountered over the years, some within my own Lutheran tradition, tend to view the Bible as the sealed container of divine truth. There is, in the minds of these folks, a single “biblical worldview” built out of a fixed set of doctrinal assertions and moral absolutes found within the four corners of the biblical text. For such a constricted perspective, information, learning and imagination are dangerous. They can lead one to question the truth and doubt the integrity of the Bible. Banning books, restricting the academic freedom of teachers and subjecting text books to legislative mandates are all simply desperate efforts to protect a feeble and unsustainable faith from the rigors of intellectual critique. Such an outlook kills the kind of interaction with the Bible to which the psalmist testifies. It is hard to meditate on the Bible when you are expending all your energy and attention to protecting it.

While my own biblical training in seminary was nothing like the literalist approach I just described, it did little to encourage meditation. The historical critical method in which I was instructed acknowledged and even celebrated the complexity of the scriptures and the diversity of voices in and through which it speaks. But the method brought with it the same rationalistic and colonialistic biases of the nineteenth century in which it was birthed. We were warned against letting our imaginations run away with us when interpreting texts. Our job was, through a dispassionate application of textual criticism, source criticism, form criticism, redaction analysis and properly framing of the text in its “Sitz im Leben” (roughly translated, “historical setting”), unearth the grain of historically valid biblical truth to be proclaimed. Though much of what I learned about the Bible’s composition, history and transmission was helpful in a general way, it was not particularly useful in preaching or in meditating on the Word.

Of equal concern regarding the historical critical method is the nineteenth century baggage that comes with it. There is in the method a bias toward rationalism and empiricism that tend to boil all of reality down to what can be demonstrated in the lab. No doubt, empiricism has proven enormously useful in advancing the physical sciences. Applied to history, anthropology and religion, not so much. Nineteenth century protestant Christianity tended to view itself as the pinnacle of world religious evolution just as western society viewed itself as the peak of human civilization. Having shaken off the primitive beliefs in spirits, magic and divine agency, the church had evolved into a rational religion compatible with western culture as a whole. As a result, “lesser” religions tied to inferior cultures were generally dismissed as “superstitions.” This is precisely the same sort of arrogance that fuels the engines of right wing Christian nationalism.

Thankfully, there are many pastors, teachers and theologians who have moved beyond such narrow thinking. Liberation theologians, such as Gustavo Gutiérrez, Leonardo Boff and Jon Sobrino encourage us to read the gospels imaginatively through the eyes of the poor, oppressed and exploited. Black liberation theologian James Cone invites us to recognize the cross and resurrection as lived out by Black Americans struggling against systemic racism. Womanist theologians like Natalia Imperatori-Lee, Mercy Amba Oduyoye and Ivone Gebara call upon us to read the scriptures through the eyes and experiences of Black women. Employing the imagination to scriptural interpretation unleashes its redemptive power and makes space for the Holy Spirit to work. This, I believe, is what the psalmist means by “meditating” on God’s words.

Here is a poem by Billy Collings about the transformative power of books. In many respects, I believe it mirrors the dynamics found in the psalmists’ meditation on the Torah and the way in which we are invited to meditate on scripture as disciples of Jesus.

 Books

From the heart of this dark, evacuated campus

Source: Poetry (April 1988). Billy Collins (b. 1941) is an American poet. Though born in Ireland, he grew up in Queens and White Plains, New York. He served as the Poet Laureate of the United States from 2001 to 2003 and was a Distinguished Professor at Lehman College of the City University of New York. Collins has been recognized as a Literary Lion of the New York Public Library and was selected as the New York State Poet for 2004 through 2006. Collins has been inducted into the American Academy of Arts and Letters. He currently teaches in the MFA program at Stony Brook Southampton. You can read more about Billy Collins and sample more of his poetry at the Poetry Foundation Website.

“A hate group is an organization that—based on its official statements or principles, the statements of its leaders, or its activities—has beliefs or practices that attack or malign an entire class of people, typically for their immutable characteristics.” Southern Poverty Law Center.[1]

With that in mind, consider the following statements by the current GOP presidential candidate, Donald J. Trump.

1. On the campaign trail in 2016, Trump repeatedly made explicit racist remarks, from calling Mexican immigrants criminals and rapists, to proposing a ban on all Muslims entering the US, to suggesting a judge should recuse himself from a case solely because of the judge’s Mexican heritage.
2. While in office, Donald Trump referred to Haiti and African nations as “shithole countries” during a meeting with a bipartisan group of senators at the White House.
3. Trump has used terms such as “animal” and “rabid” to describe Black district attorneys.
4. During his debate with Vice President Kamala Harris, Trump baselessly accused Haitian residents of Salem, OH of being “in the United States illegally” (they are not) and of eating the pets of white residents (for which there is no evidence). As a result, numerous bomb threats have been made against schools and civic centers.

I honestly cannot see what more we need to classify the Republican Party as a hate group. I can understand the reluctance to do so. We are not talking about a fringe group, but one of America’s two major political parties. The danger of further polarizing the country is real and substantial. But more substantial than the danger of polarization is the danger of putting in power a party that has vowed to use the power of the national guard, local authorities and even the United States armed forces to carry out the “largest deportation program in American history”[2] against legal residents of the United States for crimes that they did not commit. And don’t think it will stop there. Trump has vowed that, once elected, he will “root out” his political opponents “like vermin.”[3] What does he mean by that? Maybe the same thing Adolph Hitler and Bonito Mussolini meant when they said it.

Think I am being hysterical? Let us focus on what cannot be disputed, namely, that the candidates at the top of the GOP ticket are spreading incendiary lies about an ethnic minority, thereby inciting acts of intimidation and threats of violence against them. And lest there be any doubt about the falsity of the claims made against Haitian residents of Salem 1) the mayor and the chief of police both say emphatically that the Haitian residents of the town are present legally; 2) that Haitian residents hold jobs, own businesses and pay taxes; 3) there are no reports of Haitians eating anyone’s pets.[4] Furthermore, Republican vice presidential candidate J.D. Vance admitted in a publicly televised interview that he made up the stories about Haitian immigrants eating family pets to get media attention.[5]

Enough is enough. It is time to stop pretending that the GOP is a benign political party vigorously participating in a healthy democracy. It is time to stop waiting for the Republican ship to right itself. You might just as well wait for the KKK to institute a program of cultural diversity. I hereby call upon the Southern Poverty Law Center to declare the Republican Party a hate group subject to monitoring and reporting. I further call upon all bishops, priests, pastors and church leaders to denounce specifically by way of public statements and from every pulpit the racist incitement of Donald Trump, J.D. Vance and the GOP, making clear that nobody associating with a political party spewing racist hate can claim to be a disciple of Jesus.   

Still think you can afford to ignore Republican attacks on Haitian residents of Salam, Ohio? Do you think none of this pertains to you? Do you imagine that you can safely stick to voting your pocket book and fixating on “kitchen table issues” and to hell with the rest? Then I invite you to reflect on these words of Martin Niemöller, a pastor, teacher and theologhian imprisoned under the Third Reich. What Republicans do to Haitians, Mexicans and the other groups they don’t like they can just as easily do to you.

First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Socialist.

Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Trade Unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—
Because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.

This Quotation from Martin Niemöller is on display in the Permanent Exhibition of the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum.  You can find out more about Martin Niemöller by visiting the site for the Holocaust Encyclopedia.   

[1] Southern Poverty Law Center website.

[2] See Republican Platform 2024.

[3] See “Trump compares political opponents to ‘vermin’ who he will ‘root out,’ alarming historians,” BySoo Rin Kim and Lalee Ibssa, ABC News, November 13, 2023

[4]  See interview with CNN’s Dana Bash, Rob Rue, mayor of Springfield, Ohio.

[5] See report by Luke Garrett, NPR 9/15/2024. In response to information refuting claims of Haitians eating dogs and cats, Vance replied: “If I have to create stories so that the American media actually pays attention to the suffering of the American people, then that’s what I’m going to do.”

EIGHTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Jeremiah 11:18-20

Psalm 54

James 3:13 — 4:3, 7-8a

Mark 9:30-37

Prayer of the Day: O God, our teacher and guide, you draw us to yourself and welcome us as beloved children. Help us to lay aside all envy and selfish ambition, that we may walk in your ways of wisdom and understanding as servants of your Son, Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

“Then he took a little child and put it among them; and taking it in his arms, he said to them, ‘Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.’” Mark 9:36-37.

Our relationship with children in this country is more than a little complicated and conflicted. We doll them up with designer cloths, throw wildly expensive parties celebrating each milestone in their lives, equip them with the latest digital doohinckies and spend hundreds of thousands to educate them. Yet for all that, our children suffer increasingly from anxiety, depression and substance abuse. Children are multibillion dollar consumers contributing substantially to our economy as Mattel, Playmobile, Lego and numerous other toy manufacturers can attest. Nevertheless, for all they contribute to the GNP, they have no voice, no vote, no super pac’s or lobbying organizations to represent their interests. Couples spend tens of thousands on IVF to conceive children even as we have children nobody seems to want warehoused in group homes throughout the country. Children, it seems, are more fungible products than persons; more objects than subjects in their own right.

In a newly published book, The Kingdom of Children, theologian and child advocate, R. L. Stollar observes:

“Our days-marked by extreme climate change, extreme wealth disparities, and extreme prejudice against marginalized people-are apocalyptic because they reveal the desires of our hearts in stark terms. As we grow numb to the sounds of mass shooters massacring children in schools, as parents watch their children suffer through formula shortages and school shutdowns and empty medicine aisles in the midst of a worldwide pandemic, it’s becoming strikingly clear how little our world values the lives of children. Our days reveal how much abuse and violence the powers-that-be will allow children to experience, provided it enriches their pockets or furthers their agendas to benefit adults.”

Sadly, the church does not have a great track record when it comes to prioritizing children. Church isn’t exactly the most child friendly environment. The two most common things a child hears in church are “be quiet” and “sit still.” That so many of our churches segregate children into nurseries and Sunday school during worship services speaks volumes. Church, as we practice it, is for adults. We have stood Jesus’ priorities on their head! I cannot begin to tell you how many people I have met over the years who left the church because of the way they were treated as children. We have not always been very helpful to children and young people struggling with tough issues, especially questions about gender identity and sexual orientation. Indeed, our traditional teachings on these matters have often led young people to believe that they are morally defective, unclean and unworthy of God’s love.

Sometimes, clergy and other church leaders have taken advantage of children’s natural trust and their vulnerability to abuse them horribly. I recently learned that a colleague of mine who served a neighboring parish to the one I recently served was arrested for repeatedly sexually assaulting an underage girl. I have always been aware that atrocities like these happen with shocking frequency among us clergy. But when it occurs in your own back yard, the stark horror of it all is brought into sharp relief.   How God’s heart must break when God’s church becomes an agent of harm to God’s little ones.

Today’s gospel invites us to imagine what the church-what our world-would be like if, like Jesus, we prioritized children. What would worship that includes children look like?[1] I am not suggesting that we turn Sunday Eucharist into a children’s service or reduce the liturgy to single syllables set to nursery rhymes. But I believe there are ways to integrate children into worship, giving them space to express themselves in their own terms. Further, I believe children belong in church on Sunday morning. Most of the teachable moments with my children came when they raised questions like: “Why do we have to go to church? Why does the pastor have to talk so long? Why does everyone up in front of the church wear those white robes?” The genius of such pedagogy is nowhere better illustrated than in the Jewish Seder, which begins with the youngest child asking, “Why is this night unlike all other nights?”

Recognizing that children will be children, accommodations must be made for their attention spans and arrangements for them to move about freely. To that end, my last parish equipped the fellowship room adjoining and open to the sanctuary with a carpeted play area with soft toys to which children could go during the service. Yes, sometimes they got a bit noisy and some people complained that they were disruptive. But on the whole, this arrangement allowed for our children to be children while still remaining a part of the worshiping community. This is the message we, as church, need to be modeling for our world.   

The world is not a safe place for children. Like many families today, Jesus’ family fled across an international border seeking sanctuary from political violence. Not much has changed. According to available data, approximately one in five children worldwide are affected by armed conflicts, with estimates suggesting that around 40% of civilian casualties are children. Some 148 million children in the world — about 1 in 5 — are chronically malnourished. And we are not talking only about the so-called developing world here. Nearly 14 million children in the United States faced hunger in 2023. According to the USDA, one in every five children, in this wealthiest nation in the world, is unsure where they will get their next meal. According to the National Coalition for the Homeless, 1.2 million children in the United States are homeless on any given night. However, the Coalition gets its information from schools. So when you consider that there is no accounting for children under 6 who are not in school, that number is probably much greater. Violent crime is particularly unkind to little ones. Anymore, simply going to school carries a risk of death or injury. Children and teens are more likely than the rest of us to die by gun violence.

What would the world look like if, like Jesus, we prioritized children? What if we determined that the life of a child is more important than any military objective? What if we determined that the lives of our children were more important than corporate profits that line the pockets of venture capitalists, inflate the salaries of CEOs and pad our retirement plans? What if we were more concerned about the kind of planet we will be leaving to our children than cheap fuel, fast cars and huge energy consuming homes? What if our children mattered more to us than any flag, nation, ideology or political affiliation?

Here is a poem by Michael Simms reflecting upon the legacy we adults have prepared for our unwitting children-the consequence, I believe, of making them an afterthought.

Who Will Tell Them?

Source: Poetry (March 2021) Michael Simms (b. 1954) is an American poet, novelist and literary publisher. His poems and essays have been published in journals and magazines including Scientific American, Poetry Magazine, Black Warrior Review, Mid-American Review, Pittsburgh Quarterly, Southwest Review, Plume and West Branch. His poems have also appeared in Poem-a-Day published by the Academy of American Poets. Simms was born in Houston, Texas and attended the School of Irish Studies in Dublin, Ireland. He received his BA from Southern Methodist University and his MFA from the University of Iowa. Simms founded the literary publisher, Autumn House Press in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. He served as its Editor-in-Chief until 2016. He is the founder of the online literary magazine Coal Hill Review and the publisher of the political magazine Vox Populi. You can read more about Michael Simms and sample more of his poetry at the Poetry Foundation website.

[1] I feel compelled to say that I do not believe “children’s sermons” are effective tools for inclusion. Most such sermons I have observed serve mainly to entertain adults in the congregation at the expense of children. Few things are more terrifying for a small child than being singled out and called up in front of large crowd, most of whom are probably strangers to them. Worse yet is having to be questioned in front of that crowd.

I have been unbelievably busy this week and, hence, unable to publish a fresh article for Sunday’s texts. Here is one from nine years ago that I hope is not to stale.

SIXTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Isaiah 35:4-7a

Psalm 146

James 2:1-17

Mark 7:24-37

Prayer of the Day: Gracious God, throughout the ages you transform sickness into health and death into life. Open us to the power of your presence and make us a people ready to proclaim your promises to the whole world, through Jesus Christ, our healer and Lord.

“For waters shall break forth in the wilderness,
   and streams in the desert;
the burning sand shall become a pool,
   and the thirsty ground springs of water;
the haunt of jackals shall become a swamp,
   the grass shall become reeds and rushes.” Isaiah 35:7.

I now live on the edge of a right-of-way through the National Seashore held by our electric power company, Eversource. The way stretches for several miles across Cape Cod to accommodate the company’s power lines. In addition to this homocentric utilitarian purpose, the right-of-way incidentally hosts a unique ecosystem. Osprey nest on the many polls towering over the trees from which they can view the three nearby ponds. They can frequently be seen flying over the house with a fish in their talons. Reptiles, black racer snakes and eastern box turtles sun themselves on the face of this miles long gash in the forest. Wild flowers, mosses and bushes that would not otherwise grow in the constant shade of full grown trees thrive on this narrow strip of open space. Walking to the edge of my property in the spring and summer months, passing through the tangle of pitch pines and white oaks onto the right-of-way is like steping into an alpine meadow.

Of course, the forest is not so easily put to flight. The pitch pines and oaks re-seed themselves in the open areas where they take root and begin growing again. Within a short time their height reaches my head. That means, of course, that Eversource must make a return every three years or so to clear the land lest the trees grow to the point where they obstruct its workers’ access to the power lines. For the greater (human)good, the right-of-way community of living things must be ploughed under and reduced to a barren waste. The first time I witnessed this violent incursion, I was convinced this remarkable, biodiverse meadow was gone forever. But before the season had ended, the flowers, plants and shrubs were already beginning to make a comeback. The following spring saw an explosion of life where a year past there had been only broken sod. Today the pines and the oak are back-as soon will be Eversource, I have no doubt.

My son, the evolutionary biologist, sees in this remarkable tenacity evidence of life’s dogged determination to adapt to the most adverse circumstances. It is surely that. But I choose to see in it also, as does the prophet Isaiah, a sign of God’s faithfulness to creation.

“As long as the earth endures,
   seedtime and harvest, cold and heat,
summer and winter, day and night,
   shall not cease.” Genesis 8:22.  

However many scars we human creatures inflict upon the earth, God continues to work the miracle of healing. We may yet succeed in making this planet or many parts of it uninhabitable for our selves and future generations. God may not intervene to save us from the consequences or our own selfishness, stupidity and blindness. But those consequences will not come from God’s hand. God, for God’s part, will be as persistent, indeed, more persistent in reviving, healing and restoring God’s good earth as we are headstrong in our lust to exploit it. Will God’s tender, healing touch prevail over the violent and destructive work of our hands? The prophet Isaiah seems to think so.

The Christion tradition of my childhood had little interest in creation as such. The earth, its geographic features, animals and plants were little more than the stage for God’s redemption of humanity. Whenever God finishes with all God intends to do with the human race, the world ends. The redeemed will be welcomed into eternal life, the wicked cast into outer darkness. The earth? The sun? The other planets? The Stars? The galaxies? Presumably they will simply be discarded like a candy wrapper. That always seemed wrong to me. A universe thirteen billion years old and ninety-three billion light years in diameter built solely for a single species on a planet infinitesimal by comparison with the whole and whose existence is less than a nanosecond in this great expanse of time? It seems a terrible waste of time and material.

I have come to believe, however, that the biblical view of creation is much larger than the Sunday School version I learned. Human beings show up only at the end of creation. Their commission to rule over the earth in the first chapter of Genesis must be interpreted through the lens of  the second chapter where the human creature is charged with tilling and keeping the garden. As offensive as it may be to our homocentric pride, the earth was not made for human beings. Human beings were created to care for God’s good earth. The earth’s problems arise from humanity’s refusal to accept its created limits and its desire to exploit rather than care for God’s garden. The ensuing violence that filled God’s good earth was so powerful and pervasive that God was tempted to make an end of humanity altogether. The flood narrative makes clear God’s rejection of this solution to human violence. Instead, God calls Abram and his family to become the blessing humanity was intended to be.

What climate scientists tell us today about the precarious state of the earth’s oceans, lands and ecosystems echoes what the Hebrew prophets have been trying to tell us for centuries. Our sinful conduct has severe consequences for the environment. The evil we do to one another has a profound impact on the ecosystems of which we are all part. The Prophet Isaiah warns us that

“[t]he earth staggers like a drunkard,
   it sways like a hut;
its transgression lies heavy upon it,
   and it falls, and will not rise again. Isaiah 24:20.

God hates nothing that God has made and so will not destroy the human race. But God’s human creatures might very well succeed in doing exactly what God has vowed not to do. We may well succeed in making this planet, or substantial parts of it, uninhabitable for our children. But I do not need to be convinced that the end of the world is imminent to be deeply saddened by what we are doing to it. It is enough for me to know that my great grandchildren may never see an elephant or gorrilla except in picture books, that they might never know a wilderness area big enough for them to get lost in, that they might never witness the return of monarch butterflies to the Cape in midsummer. If such is the world we bequeath to our children’s children, there is good reason for mourning.

But while the prophet leads us to mourn for ourselves and our planet, that is not where we are left. As our lesson illustrates, Isaiah foresees the day when “waters shall break forth in the wilderness, and streams in the desert.” His hope and expectation is that the world will be healed. Clean water will cleanse the parched ground, rushes and reeds will grow where once only rocks and sand could be found. I have seen enough evidence of that on the Eversource right-of-way to be convinced that God never gives up hope for creation. If God refuses to give up on this planet, how can we?      

Though we humans are surely not the “be all and the end all” we imagine ourselves to be, Saint Paul nevertheless makes the case that creation’s redemption is tied up with that of humanity. “The creation,” Paul tells us, “waits with eager longing for the revealing of the children of God; for the creation was subjected to futility, not of its own will but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and will obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.” Romans 8:19-21. Once freed from its lust for dominance, its addiction to privilege, its captivity to the cycles of vengeance and violence, its allegiance to the false gods of nation, race, blood and soil, humanity will finally be in a position to recognize the earth as God’s sacred possession and accept with joy, gratitude and faithful obedience its role as the earth’s caretaker. Then creation, or the piece of it for which we are responsible, will be free from bondage to the savagery of our consumeristic greed, our exploitation of its land, waters and air and our destructive wars. When humanity is set free from the power of sin, creation will be set free from exploitation.

In the miracle of the Incarnation God went all in, not just for humanity, but for all creation. In Jesus’ Resurrection God made clear that God will not be deterred from God’s redemptive purpose by the worst evil of which we are capable. God refuses to give up hope for this world God has birthed. That is the basis of my hope-along with the tell tail signs of that redemption in places like the Eversource right-of-way.

Here is a poem by Marge Piercy celebrating spring time vegetation with an exuberance like Isaiah’s. Hope springs eternal because it springs from the One who is eternal.   

More Than Enough

Source: Colors Passing Through Us (c. Marge Piercy; pub. Alfred A. Knopf, 2003). Marge Piercy (b. 1936) is an American progressive activist, feminist and writer. She was born in Detroit, Michigan. While her father was not religious, Piercy was raised Jewish by her mother and her Orthodox Jewish maternal grandmother. Piercy was a poor student in early childhood. But when she was bed ridden with German measles and rheumatic fever, she developed a love of reading-which was about all she was able to do. After graduation from high school, Piercy became the first in her family to attend college, receiving a B.A. from the University of Michigan. After graduating, Piercy and her first husband went to France, but soon after returned to the United States. Living in Chicago, Piercy supported herself by working various part-time jobs. During this time, Piercy realized she wanted to write fiction that focused on politics, feminism, and working-class people. She became involved in the organization Students for a Democratic Society. Piercy’s first book of poetry was published in 1968 and her first novel was accepted for publication that same year. You can read more about Marge Piercy and sample more of her poetry at the Poetry Foundation website.  

FIFTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Deuteronomy 4:1-2, 6-9

Psalm 15

James 1:17-27

Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23

Prayer of the Day: O God our strength, without you we are weak and wayward creatures. Protect us from all dangers that attack us from the outside, and cleanse us from all evil that arises from within ourselves, that we may be preserved through your Son, Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

“But take care and watch yourselves closely, so as neither to forget the things that your eyes have seen nor to let them slip from your mind all the days of your life; make them known to your children and your children’s children—” Deuteronomy 4:9.

The Book of Deuteronomy, literally the “second giving of the law,” is Moses’ swan song. The people of Israel are encamped before the Jordan River, poised to enter and take possession of the land of Canaan. But Moses, who led them out of slavery under the Egyptian Empire and for nearly half a century through the wilderness where they lived hand to mouth, will not be with them. He knows the time has come to pass the torch of leadership to the next generation. Moses also knows there is a danger lying ahead for the people of Israel far greater than those they confronted during their years of slavery in Egypt, in the trials they faced in their wilderness wanderings or even the threat of death they will soon meet from the armies of Canaan. The greatest danger Israel will face in the land of Canaan is forgetfulness.

Later on in Deuteronomy, Moses spells out precisely the nature of his concern:

“Take care that you do not forget the Lord your God, by failing to keep his commandments, his ordinances, and his statutes, which I am commanding you today. When you have eaten your fill and have built fine houses and live in them, and when your herds and flocks have multiplied, and your silver and gold is multiplied, and all that you have is multiplied, then do not exalt yourself, forgetting the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery, who led you through the great and terrible wilderness, an arid waste-land with poisonous snakes and scorpions. He made water flow for you from flint rock, and fed you in the wilderness with manna that your ancestors did not know, to humble you and to test you, and in the end to do you good. Do not say to yourself, ‘My power and the might of my own hand have gained me this wealth.’ But remember the Lord your God, for it is he who gives you power to get wealth, so that he may confirm his covenant that he swore to your ancestors, as he is doing today. If you do forget the Lord your God and follow other gods to serve and worship them, I solemnly warn you today that you shall surely perish. Like the nations that the Lord is destroying before you, so shall you perish, because you would not obey the voice of the Lord your God.” Deuteronomy 8:1-20.     

Wealth, power, comfort and security have a tendency to skew one’s memory. The danger here is that, once settled in the promised land, the people of Israel might begin to imagine that they are finally home, that their journey is over and that they have arrived. Nothing could be further from the truth. In the truest sense, Israel’s journey is only beginning. Israel is to be a light to the gentiles, a blessing to all the peoples of the world and an example of what it means to be human. This new people of God is not to be distinguished by the might of its armies, the magnificence of its architectural achievements or the wealth of its cities. Rather, its greatness is to be the “wisdom and discernment to the peoples, who, when they hear all these statutes, will say, ‘Surely this great nation is a wise and discerning people!’” Deuteronomy 4:6. Israel is only beginning its journey into becoming all that God has declared it to be.

Moses would not have his people forget that their earliest spiritual ancestor was called to leave home and live the life of a nomad in a land not his own. Genesis 12:1-3. Abraham, Sarah, Isaac and Rebecca fled across international borders to escape starvation, prepared to trade sexual favors for sanctuary. Genesis 12:10-20; Genesis 26:6-11. Jacob and his family likewise sought refuge from famine in Egypt where they were “redlined” in Goshen and ultimately enslaved. “It was not because you were more numerous than any other people that the Lord set his heart on you and chose you-for you were the fewest of all peoples,” says Moses. “It was because the Lord loved you and kept the oath that he swore to your ancestors, that the Lord has brought you out with a mighty hand, and redeemed you from the house of slavery, from the hand of Pharaoh king of Egypt.” Deuteronomy 7:7-8. If Israel is to know where it is going, it must remember from whence it came.  

Similarly, disciples of Jesus have no ground for boasting. We ought to remember well from whence we have come. Each year on Palm/Passion Sunday many of our churches read the passion narrative from one of the gospels. There we are reminded that our own spiritual ancestors were traitors, cowards and deserters. There were no heroes standing with Jesus on the night of his arrest. That the risen Christ sought out these very disciples who had failed him so miserably and entrusted them with the task of bringing the good news of God’s reign to the ends of the earth is by far the most profound act of grace in the New Testament. Like Israel, the disciples are chosen, not by virtue of their character and nobility, but by grace. They are not saved by their faith, but by God’s faithfulness. They are elected, not to privilege in the world, but to service for the world.  

Disciples of Jesus are sojourners who “have no lasting city, but we seek the city which is to come.” Hebrews 13:14. The one, holy, catholic and apostolic church knows no borders and recognizes no distinctions on the basis of nation, race, blood or soil. But just as Israel was prone to lapses of memory, so too Jesus’ disciples tend to forget that their Savior was a poor, dark skinned, non-citizen whose family fled to Egypt as refugees from political persecution. They tend to forget that the gentle reign of God Jesus proclaims advances through suffering love that embraces even the enemy as a neighbor. They forget Jesus emphasized that our loyalty to him and the kingdom he proclaims is measured by how we treat the “least” among us. Like the Pharisees in our gospel lesson, disciples of Jesus too often remember the bare bones of religious piety, but lose sight of the story giving meaning, direction and lifegiving power to their practices.

To forget our stories is to forget who we are and why we do the things we do. In Pierre Boulle’s book, Bridge over the River Kwai, a group of British soldiers under the command of Lt. Colonel Nicholson are taken prisoner by the Japanese during World War II and ordered to work on building a bridge across the River Kwai. In order to keep up the morale of his men under cruel and inhumane conditions of captivity, Nicholson orders them to take special care with their work. He directs them to build the best bridge possible to show the Japanese just how skilled and competent the British are and what the Japanese are up against. The bridge was to be a symbol of British power-an act of defiant resistance giving the captive soldiers a sense of purpose and dignity. But before long, Colonel Nicholson becomes enamored with his bridge, proud of the project-so much so that it consumes him. In the end, when British commandos show up to destroy the bridge, Nicholson joins with his Japanese captors to protect his bridge.

Colonel Nicholson forgot who he was. He forgot who his enemy was. He forgot why he was building his bridge. So, too, Moses knew that his people would be tempted to forget who they were, how they were called from slavery into freedom and the reason for which they were brought into the land of promise. He knew how easily commercial interests, national ambitions and the lust for dominance could subvert the Torah and empty it of its power to ensure justice and equity. Moses therefore admonishes Israel (and us) “neither to forget the things that your eyes have seen nor to let them slip from your mind all the days of your life.”  Deuteronomy 4:9

As “Christian” as America is alleged to be, a lot of American Christianity has little to do with Christ and a lot to do with political ideologies of hatred and exclusion. Much of what passes for Christianity in these United States manifests as a jumbled and conflicting collection of beliefs cobbled together from myths about American history, fundamentalist religion, convictions that God has providentially given this land to our European ancestors and divinely ordained its boundaries. Many American Christians insist that America’s constitution and declaration of independence are “divinely inspired.” Added to this slough of misguided notions is a toxic mix of fear, resentment and irrational hatred of foreigners, particularly those of color threatening to “poison the blood” of our nation. While these convictions are admittedly “extreme,” they are extremely common these days and, sadly, they have received a warm welcome by large sectors of a church that has forgotten its story.

Let us take care lest we forget where we came from. Let us take care that we do not forget the parable of the Good Samaritan, the parable of the Last Judgment, the parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus. Let us take care lest we forget that we worship a savior who was executed by the state and spent his last hours with two criminals also with him on death row. Let us take care lest we forget that we follow the Lord who reached out to touch people nobody else would touch with a ten foot poll. Most important, let us not forget that it is not too late to remember. Let us not forget that as often as we do forget, our Lord continues to remind us who and whose we are, where we came from and where we are going.

Here is a poem by pastor, theologian, teacher and martyr Dietrich Bonhoeffer reflecting on the struggle of remembering who and whose one is.    

Who Am I?

Who am I? They often tell me
I would step from my cell’s confinement 
calmly, cheerfully, firmly,
like a squire from his country-house.

Who am I? They often tell me
I would talk to my warders
freely and friendly and clearly,
as though it were mine to command.

Who am I? They also tell me
I would bear the days of misfortune
equably, smilingly, proudly,
like one accustomed to win.

Am I then really all that which other men tell of?
Or am I only what I know of myself,
restless and longing and sick, like a bird in a cage,
struggling for breath, as though hands were compressing my throat,
yearning for colours, for flowers, for the voices of birds,
thirsting for words of kindness, for neighbourliness,
trembling with anger at despotism and petty humiliation,
tossing in expectation of great events,
powerlessly trembling for friends at an infinite distance,
weary and empty at praying, at thinking, at making, 
faint, and ready to say farewell to it all?

Who am I? This or the other?
Am I one person today, and tomorrow another?
Am I both at once? A hypocrite before others,
and before myself a contemptibly woebegone weakling?
Or is something within me still like a beaten army,
fleeing in disorder from a victory already achieved?

Who am I? They mock me, these lonely questions of mine.
Whoever I am, thou knowest, O God, I am thine.

Source: Letters and Papers from Prison, (c. 1953, 1967 and 1971 by SCM Press, Ltd.). Dietrich Bonhoeffer (1906-1945) was a German Lutheran pastor, theologian and anti-Nazi dissident. He was a key founding member of the Confessing Church which rejected the Reich’s effort to impose Nazi ideology into its teaching. His writings on Christianity’s role in the secular world have become widely influential. In addition to his many theological writings, Bonhoeffer was known for his staunch resistance to the Nazi dictatorship, including vocal opposition to Hitler’s euthanasia program and genocidal persecution of the Jews. He was arrested in April 1943 by the Gestapo and imprisoned at Tegel prison for one and a half years. He was transferred to Flossenbürg concentration camp. Bonhoeffer was accused of being associated with the plot to assassinate Adolf Hitler, tried along with other accused plotters and hanged on April 9, 1945.

FOURTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Joshua 24:1-2a, 14-18

Psalm 34:15-22

Ephesians 6:10-20

John 6:56-69

Prayer of the Day: Holy God, your word feeds your people with life that is eternal. Direct our choices and preserve us in your truth, that, renouncing what is false and evil, we may live in you, through your Son, Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

“Now therefore revere the Lord, and serve him in sincerity and in faithfulness; put away the gods that your ancestors served beyond the River and in Egypt, and serve the Lord. Now if you are unwilling to serve the Lord, choose this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your ancestors served in the region beyond the River or the gods of the Amorites in whose land you are living; but as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.” Joshua 24:14-15.

This declaration of Joshua comes at the close of the book by his name. Israel is entering upon a new stage in its history. The future holds both promise and danger. In its own land, Israel has the unprecedented opportunity to become a people formed by Torah. Unlike the Egyptian Empire and the petty kingdoms of Canaan and its rulers who claimed godhood and exercised exploitive power over their subjects, Israel was to be a people ruled by the God who liberates slaves, champions the poor, the widow and the orphan. Israel is to model the way of being human that God intended from the beginning. It was being given the opportunity to become an agent of blessing to the world as was promised to Abraham.[1]

It should be noted that Joshua’s was not the first conquest of Palestine. For centuries before, the fertile crescent had been fought over by competing tribes, petty kings and empires. Though Joshua’s struggle was with the Canaanite city states residing in the land, Palestine was at that time nominally under the jurisdiction of the Egyptian empire. According to the Books of Judges and I Samuel, Israel’s hold on the promised land was at best partial and always precarious. The Israelite tribes were frequently under the control of competing tribes and rulers. Occupation of the land clearly was not the same as exercising sovereignty over it. Indeed, neither God nor God’s prophet Samuel favored Israel’s exercise of sovereignty and only reluctantly gave in to Israel’s demand for a king to rule over it that it might be “like the other nations.” Israel was not intended to be “like other nations.” Over all, Israel’s experience with monarchy did not produce the just and compassionate society envisioned in Torah, but led rather to its conquest, loss of the land and exile. Living faithfully as God’s people in the land of promise does not require the exercise of sovereignty over that land.

Disciples of Jesus interpret Joshua’s final words through the lens of the great commandments, namely, that we are to love God with all the heart, soul, mind and strength and the neighbor as ourselves. Saint Paul reminds us that, unlike Joshua’s struggle, “our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.” Ephesians 6:12. This is critically important for a world that is erupting into wars driven by the deities of nation, race, blood and soil. The devil would have us believe that our enemies are of blood and flesh. The devil would have us believe that our freedom and security depend on our willingness and ability to kill all who would take it away from us. The devil would have us believe that war is inevitable and necessary for the sake of the greater good. Understand that the devil is completely nonpartisan, taking no interest in the justice or injustice of any party’s cause in any military conflict. The devil takes no sides in war. He doesn’t have to. No matter who prevails on the battle field, the devil always wins.

According to the latest surveys, Christianity is still nominally the dominant religion in America. But I believe the surveys are wrong. I believe that the dominant religion in America is America. Think about this. If I were to boast that my children were volunteering to take up arms against people deemed hostile or resistant to my religion, one would think me backwards, primitive and uncivilized. But if I were to say that my children had enlisted in the armed forces, I would likely get a slap on the back and kudos for my family’s patriotism. I am, of course, not suggesting for one minute that killing for the sake of religion (or anything else for that matter) is justifiable. My point is that what people are willing to kill, die and send their children to die for says a great deal about what they hold most dear. For Americans, that is America.

It is important to understand that the Canaanites who sacrificed their children on altars and condemned women to a life of temple prostitution were not inherently cruel and perverse. They believed that the gods they worshiped demanded these things from them and that the wellbeing of the whole community depended upon satisfying those demands. Human sacrifices had to be made for the greater good. That is the mark of a false god. It always demands a blood sacrifice. America is no different. The blood of our soldiers must be given and that of our enemies shed to defend its interests. Child laborers in developing countries working on starvation wages must be sacrificed to ensure the flow of cheap goods we need to maintain “our American way of life.” Human sacrifice is not a relic of the dark and barbaric past. It is very much a part of American life, though we prefer to give it more palatable names.

I do not mean to say that America is inherently evil by identifying it as an idol. Idols, after all, are usually good things in themselves. They are good gifts of God that, due to our human propensity for disordered desires, have been elevated above the Giver. Government is a gift of God for maintaining order, ensuring justice and providing protection for the most vulnerable among us. Politics is a gift of God though which we are able corporately to love and care for our neighbors. But when the nation is elevated to godhood and politics become religion, the shedding of blood is sure to follow.

This week I have been watching the Democratic National Convention on and off. A political convention is about as religions as religion ever gets. It has liturgy, hymns, prayers and avid worshipers who chant responses on cue. It has speeches with all the hallmarks of revivalist sermons. These conventions were designed to stir up love of, admiration for and devotion to America. There is no disputing that they are good at what they do. I am watching this convention with mixed feelings. Clearly, I do not want to see another four years of Donald Trump. As thoroughly sickened as I am by our nation’s support of war in the middle east and eastern Europe, I am appreciative of the many positive contributions of the Biden administration and believe that Joe Biden is a good man who has given much that is good to this nation. So when I listened to his speech on Monday night, I was almost carried away by it. I was with him until closing remarks when he recited the words from the American Anthem, “Let me know in my heart when my days are through. America, America, I gave my best to you.”

With all due respect, Mr. President, no. I love my country. I love the American people. I will always try to do my part to make this land a kinder, more equitable and beautiful place. But my best belongs and always will belong to Another. America can never be first if I am to love it rightly and well. So as for me and my household, we will serve the Lord.

Here is a poem/song by Phil Ochs that illustrates well the blood sacrifice required of that religion called America.

White Boots Marchin’ in a Yellow Land

The pilots playing poker in the cockpit of the plane
The casualties arriving like the dropping of the rain
And a mountain of machinery will fall before a man
When you’re white boots marching in a yellow land

It’s written in the ashes of the village towns we burn
It’s written in the empty bed of the fathers unreturned
And the chocolate in the childrens eyes will never understand
When you’re white boots marching in a yellow land

Red blow the bugles of the dawn
The morning has arrived you must be gone
And the lost patrol chase their chartered souls
Like old whores following tired armies

Train them well, the men who will be fighting by your side
And never turn your back if the battle turns the tide
For the colours of a civil war are louder than commands
When you’re white boots marching in a yellow land

Blow them from the forest and burn them from your sight
Tie their hands behind their back and question through the night
But when the firing squad is ready they’ll be spitting where they stand
At the white boots marching in a yellow land

Red blow the bugles of the dawn
The morning has arrived you must be gone
And the lost patrol chase their chartered souls
Like cold whores following tired armies

The comic and the beauty queen are dancing on the stage
Raw recruits are lining up like coffins in a cage
We’re fighting in a war we lost before the war began
We’re the white boots marching in a yellow land

And the lost patrol chase their chartered souls
Like cold whores following tired armies.

Source: The War Is Over: The Best of Phil Ochs (1988) (c. Barricade Music Inc.) Phil Ochs (1940-1976) was born in El Paso, Texas. He was a folk singer/songwriter and contemporary of Bob Dylan, Pete Seeger and Arlo Guthrie. He wrote hundreds of songs in the 1960s and 1970s and released eight albums. He performed at numerous anti-Vietnam War, civil rights and organized labor rallies. Ochs’s mental health deteriorated in the 1970s owing to what is now known as bipolar disorder and alcoholism. Tragically, he took his own life in 1976. You can find out more about Phil Ochs and his music at this website. If you would like to listen to the above song as performed by Phil Ochs, click here.

[1] The book of Joshua is a problematic one for people of faith. The wars conducted by the people of Israel against the inhabitants of Canaan under Joshua’s leadership could fairly be characterized as genocidal. That this account of Israel’s conquest of Canaan does not likely reflect the actual historical realities on the ground is beside the point. I do not feel the need to defend or rationalize these wars (as though God needed or wanted our defense). Neither will I call in the historical critical cavalry to put the blame for Joshua’s rough edges on some anonymous redactor. I will only say that we who identify as Christian are disciples of Jesus, not Joshua, Moses, St. Paul or any other biblical figure. The way of Jesus is to love one’s enemies and pray for one’s persecutors. It is through the lens of this “great commandment” that we read, interpret and re-interpret the Bible. The theological assertion made in our passage from Joshua is that God has delivered on the covenant promise made to Abraham and Sarah. The land is now in the possession of their descendants.  

THIRTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Proverbs 9:1-6

Psalm 34:9-14

Ephesians 5:15-20

John 6:51-58

Prayer of the Day: Ever-loving God, your Son gives himself as living bread for the life of the world. Fill us with such a knowledge of his presence that we may be strengthened and sustained by his risen life to serve you continually, through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

“Be careful then how you live…” Ephesians 5:15.

Something deeply American in my bones wants to cry out, “How I live my life is my own damned business!” No church can tell me how or whether to worship God, what I should or should not believe or what is right and wrong. No government has the right to tell me to wear a seatbelt when I drive, a life jacket when I Kayak or tell me where I can and cannot carry my gun. What I do with my life is my own concern.

Of course, a moment’s reflection dispels that notion. The way I live does have an impact on others, whether or not I recognize it. It matters a great deal to my fellow citizens what I believe about God and how I worship God, especcially if I believe God wants me to destroy God’s enemies and censor literature I believe offensive to my God. I may not care enough about my wellbeing to buckle up, but the family members who depend on me and my fellow Americans whose insurance premiums are driven up by the severity of injuries incurred by careless people like me have good reason to care. The Coast Guard, law enforcement and victims of gun violence all pay heavy prices for the “freedoms” I insist upon. Unless I am a hermit living off the grid-and perhaps even then-my life is inseparably bound up with those of everyone else on the planet. How I live is not my own damned business.

How then should disciples of Jesus live out the kingdom of heaven in service to their neighbors in a self centered world intent on plunging itself into hell? Paul does not answer that question directly. Instead, he gives some pretty down to earth, small scale directions. Don’t waste time. Don’t be stupid. Don’t drink to excess. Instead, be filled with the Spirit. How? By singing. The Spirit is infused into the church through the singing “psalms and hymns and spiritual songs among yourselves, singing and making melody to the Lord in your hearts, giving thanks to God the Father at all times and for everything in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.” Let singing shape your heart, soul, mind and actions.

Song is a potent antidote to despair, helplessness and apathy. Martin Luther has said of singing:

“Music is hateful and intolerable to the devil. I truly believe, and do not mind saying, that there is no art like music, next to theology. It is the only art, next to theology, that can calm the agitations of the soul, which plainly shows that the devil, the source of anxiety and sadness, flees from the sound of music as he does from religious worship. That is why the Scriptures are full of psalms and hymns, in which praise is given to God. That is why, when we gather round God’s throne in heaven, we shall sing His glory. Music is the perfect way to express our love and devotion to God. It is one of the most magnificent and delightful presents God has given us.”

I wholeheartedly agree with Luther on this point, but with one caveat. I think that music trumps even theology. I know from experience that when I have been too tired, too dispirited, too overwhelmed with doubt to believe, I could still sing. I have often sung my way out of sorrows too deep for thinking through. In my view, talk therapy is overrated, but singing is highly underrated. Moreover, the value of singing is not merely therapeutic. The Civil Rights movement was animated by songs that sustained people of color throughout two centuries of slavery and decades of Jim Crow. The Power of Song, a book written by Guntis Šmidchens, documents the struggle for freedom by people of Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania and how their “Singing Revolution” won their independence from Soviet domination. A song can evoke visions, bring people together and inspire movements for change and transformation. It reaches back to the lives of ancestors, inspires the hearts of those living in the present and turns their gaze toward a better tomorrow. Recall the still potent anthem, We Shall Overcome, derived from a song by the Reverend Charles Tindley in 1903 and sung to the tune of an African American melody.

Saint Peter declares to Jesus in Sunday’s gospel, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” These words, enshrined and sung in our liturgy, testify to the power of music. Song is indeed the vehicle of lifegiving words, the lifegiving Word. You could almost say that singing is how the Word becomes flesh. Song is the means by which many individual members are united in word, in voice and in expression. Whatever divisions there may be in the congregation, whatever ill feeling between members, whatever divisive issues may be brewing, a good hymn sweeps a singing church into unity of thought and feeling.

In an insightful essay on a passage in Paul’s letter to the church in Colossae similar to our lesson from Ephesians, Amy Whisenand Krall points out that singing “both witnesses to the abundance of the new creation and enacts it. Taking part in singing together allows the congregation to inhabit that abundance and to grow up into the new creation; it gives body to what it means to grow into the maturity Paul desires for the congregation….As they take part in corporate singing, we find the congregation participating in thanksgiving to God in Christ, learning to give thanks together as diverse members who now constitute one community, the church, which is the Body of Christ.”  “A Singing Creation: Music Making and Christian Maturity in Colossians 3:16,” published in The Art of New Creation, (C. 2022 and edited by Jeremy Begbie, Daniel Train and W. David O. Taylor; pub. by Intervarsity Press), p. 142.

Can we sing our way out of the hateful ideologies, hurtful caricatures, insults and broken relationships that characterize so much of our common life these days? Consider this. On election day 2020 in Warren, Michigan a group of Donald Trump supporters and backers of Joe Biden started shouting slogans and insults at each other through bullhorns-a none too common occurrence. But then Matthew Woods, a 59-year-old Trump supporter and travelling musician, challenged the Biden supporters to a “sing off.” The opposing groups soon started singing together and even posed for photos. “We shook hands, hugged each other and apologized for saying bad words to one another,” Wood said. Harmony: Opposing “Trump and Biden groups make music together,” CityNews, November 3, 2020. To the cynical spirit of our times, this was but an anomalous island of civility in an ocean of uncivil and bitter acrimony. To people of faith, however, it is tiny flicker of hope, a fleeting glimpse into the better way of being human to which Jesus calls us, a new creation into which the Spirit carries us through song.

Here is a poem by Friedrich von Schiller extoling the power of song and its transformative potential.    

The Power of Song

The foaming stream from out the rock
      With thunder roar begins to rush,—
The oak falls prostrate at the shock,
      And mountain-wrecks attend the gush.
With rapturous awe, in wonder lost,
      The wanderer hearkens to the sound;
From cliff to cliff he hears it tossed,
      Yet knows not whither it is bound:
‘Tis thus that song’s bright waters pour
From sources never known before.

In union with those dreaded ones
      That spin life’s thread all-silently,
Who can resist the singer’s tones?
      Who from his magic set him free?
With wand like that the gods bestow,
      He guides the heaving bosom’s chords,
He steeps it in the realms below,
      He bears it, wondering, heavenward,
And rocks it, ‘twixt the grave and gay,
On feeling’s scales that trembling sway.

As when before the startled eyes
      Of some glad throng, mysteriously,
With giant-step, in spirit-guise,
      Appears a wondrous deity,
Then bows each greatness of the earth
      Before the stranger heaven-born,
Mute are the thoughtless sounds of mirth,
      While from each face the mask is torn,
And from the truth’s triumphant might
Each work of falsehood takes to flight.

So from each idle burden free,
      When summoned by the voice of song,
Man soars to spirit-dignity,
      Receiving force divinely strong:
Among the gods is now his home,
      Naught earthly ventures to approach—
All other powers must now be dumb,
      No fate can on his realms encroach;
Care’s gloomy wrinkles disappear,
Whilst music’s charms still linger here,

As after long and hopeless yearning,
      And separation’s bitter smart,
A child, with tears repentant burning,
      Clings fondly to his mother’s heart—
So to his youthful happy dwelling,
      To rapture pure and free from stain,
All strange and false conceits expelling,
      Song guides the wanderer back again,
In faithful Nature’s loving arm,
From chilling precepts to grow warm.

Source: This poem is in the public domain. Johann Christoph Friedrich von Schiller (1759-1805) was a German poet, playwright, historian, philosopher, physician and lawyer. He was born in Marbach, Germany. His initial goal was the priesthood. But in 1773 he entered a military academy in Stuttgart and ended up studying medicine. After a brief stint as a regimental doctor, he left Stuttgart to accept a post as professor of History and Philosophy at Jena. Schiller developed a close friendship with the already famous Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. Together they formed the Weimar Theater. You can read more about Johann von Schiller and sample more of his poetry at the All Poetry website.

TWELFTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

1 Kings 19:4-8

Psalm 34:1-8

Ephesians 4:25—5:2

John 6:35, 41-51

Prayer of the Day: Gracious God, your blessed Son came down from heaven to be the true bread that gives life to the world. Give us this bread always, that he may live in us and we in him, and that, strengthened by this food, we may live as his body in the world, through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

“So then, putting away falsehood, let all of us speak the truth to our neighbors, for we are members of one another.” Ephesians 4:25.

I have told this story previously, but it bears repeating in these days of “fake news,” “false narratives” and “gattcha journalism.” Not so many years ago, I was leading my confirmation class in a discussion of the Eight Commandment (Thou Shalt Not Bear False Witness). In so doing, I posed the following hypothetical. Imagine, I said, that you are on the school board. The board is planning to hire Mary Smith to be its treasurer. In that position, she will, of course, be responsible for managing school district funds. You learn that Mary was formerly convicted of embezzlement and sentenced to ninety days in prison. Should you inform the board about Mary’s conviction?

Under these circumstances, the class unanimously agreed that the board should be made aware of this event in Mary’s past. As treasurer, Mary would be responsible for managing a substantial amount of public money critical for the operation of the schools within the district. It would be a breach of duty for a member of the school board to turn a blind eye to the facts and allow the board to place a person with a history of financial dishonesty in this important position of public trust.

But then I added to the hypothetical. Mary was a foster child who aged out of the system when she turned eighteen years old. At that time, she was informed that she could no longer live in the group home where was staying. At just eighteen years of age and not yet out of high school, she had little in the way of savings, but desperately needed a place to stay. She finally found a room for rent, but the landlord insisted on a $300 dollar deposit. Mary was working part time at a convenience store during this period of her life. One evening, when her employer left early and asked her to close up the store for the night, Mary took three hundred dollars from the cash register to cover the deposit. She had intended to pay the money back again once she got established, but her theft was detected and Mary was arrested shortly thereafter.

Upon release from prison, Mary found a job at a restaurant. She put aside as much money from her meager salary as she could each week. As soon as she had saved enough, she went back to her former employer at the convenience store and repaid the three hundred dollars she had taken with interest. Her former employer was impressed with Mary’s offer of restitution and offered to re-hire her. Mary soon became her employer’s assistant and has been managing the store’s finances faithfully for over twenty years. In addition, Mary has been doing volunteer work with an agency helping first time offenders newly released from prison to find work and integrate back into society. She is currently serving as treasurer for her church.

The class agreed that having this additional information made the decision a great deal more difficult. Is something that happened so long ago in the life of a desperate and inexperienced young girl relevant to the woman she had become? There was some lively discussion over what obligation a school board member had under these circumstances. Some of the kids felt that there was no need to disclose Mary’s conviction and that doing so would be unfair. Others expressed the view that, although duty bound as a member of the board to disclose the conviction, they would also be obligated to provide the context and relate the exemplary nature of Mary’s subsequent life of integrity and service. All agreed that simply disclosing the conviction, without more, would be wrong.

Speaking the truth to our neighbors, as St. Paul would have his churches do, is not as simple and straight forward as it might seem. A single fact taken out of context can distort the truth, ruin reputations, reinforce prejudices, incite rage and generate unfounded fear. For example, many Americans believe that undocumented immigrants are a criminal threat to society. The Republican party, led by their presidential nominee, former President Donald J. Trump, has leveraged this false assumption to inflame the rhetoric around immigration from the U.S.-Mexico border. In so doing, Republicans[1] and their allies have highlighted cases such as that of the recently murdered twelve-year old Jocelyn Nungaray. Two undocumented Venezuelan men have been charged with capital murder in the killing. The case is, without a doubt, horrific and a great tragedy for the families involved. But the party and its leaders care less about those involved than the “rage value” this story has for feeding this nation’s racist hysteria and supporting their false narrative to the effect that America is being “invaded” by criminals, insane asylum discharges and other assorted “vermin.” As in the case of my hypothetical, so too in this instance, this one isolated fact is being exploited in support of a lie.[2]

Saint Paul knew well that the truth is more than the sum of the facts. For this reason, he goes on to tell his audience the manner in which the truth is to be spoken. “Let no evil talk come out of your mouths,” he says, “but only what is useful for building up, as there is need, so that your words may give grace to those who hear.” Ephesians 4:29. Thus, there are three considerations to be made in contemplating when and how to speak the truth. First, is it necessary to speak this truth? Just because a particular assertion of fact is genuinely accurate does not mean that it needs to be shared. It might arguably have been necessary for a member of my hypothetical school board to disclose Mary’s criminal conviction for the greater good of the public. But it would be quite unnecessary and wrong to share it with fellow members of the mall walking group, thereby needlessly damaging her reputation.

Second, will the information to be shared build up the church, the community and the people involved? As a pastor and as an attorney, I have sat through countless meetings of one kind or another. If I have one regret in life, it is over the hours of my life spent in council meetings, committees and litigation groups I will never get back. I would be hard put to say whether lawyers or pastors are more deeply in love with the sound of their own voices. What I do know is that a lot of what is shared does more to boost the ego of the speaker, vent personal frustrations and impress the rest of the group than further the purpose of the meeting. Speaking is reflexive for many of us. We would, I think, be better served to ask ourselves before we open our mouths, “Will what I am about to say build trust, enhance understanding and move the conversation forward in a helpful direction?”

Sometimes painful truths need to be spoken. Essential truths are not always welcome. The Hebrew prophets frequently exposed the painful truth about Israel’s injustice and betrayal of its covenant with God. But they did so always with the purpose of returning Israel to faithfulness and restoring its covenant relationship. As Professor Gerold O. West points out, sometimes the good news of the gospel needs to be experienced as bad news before it can be heard as good. Sometimes you must learn to hate what you most love before you can learn to love it properly. Luke 14:25-26.

Finally, one must ask whether the information to be shared will “give grace” to those who hear? In the final analysis, the truth is not facts, information or opinions. The truth is a person. “I am…the truth” says Jesus. John 14:6. Jesus came, John the Evangelist tells us, not to condemn the world but to save it. John 3:17. Everyone to whom one has opportunity to speak is a person for whom God sent the only Son. Thus, before speaking, one must ask: 1) whether the truth one would tell needs to be told; 2) whether the persons to whom one speaks need to be told this truth at this time; 3) what tone, tenor, words, images, parables or analogies can be used to tell this truth to these persons at this time faithfully, courageously and compassionately so as to move all involved toward the restoration of justice, reconciliation, peace and the strengthening of community. Speech that does not further these sacred objectives is not true, however factually accurate it might be.

Here is a poem by Robert Hayden about Fredrick Douglass, a man whose truthful speech still pierces the darkness of racial injustice with both judgment and promise.

Frederick Douglass

Source: The Collected Poems of Robert Hayden (c. 1966 by Robert Hayden; pub. by Liveright Publishing Corporation). Robert Hayden (1913 –1980) was an American poet, essayist and educator. He was born in Detroit, Michigan where he was raised by a foster family following his parents’ separation. The Haydens, his foster parents whose name he eventually took as his own, were contentious and abusive. Short of stature and visually impaired, Hayden was unable to participate in sports like most of his peers. He became a voracious reader, however, and developed a keen interest in writing. Hayden attended Detroit City College where he majored in English and Spanish. He left just one credit short of graduation in the midst of the Great Depression to serve in the Works Progress Administration Federal Writers’ Project. There he researched black history and folk culture. Hayden served as Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress from 1976 to 1978, a role today known as US Poet Laureate. He was the first African-American writer to hold this position. You can read more about Robert Hayden and sample more of his poetry at the Poetry Foundation website.

[1] Some have complained that my association of Republicans generally with the MAGA ideology of hate is unfair. In response, I can only point out that your party nominated as its presidential candidate the chief mouthpiece of racist MAGA ideology and sidelined everyone in the party who has had the courage to speak out against him. It is clear where your party is headed and if you are not down with where that train is going, the time to get off is now. Otherwise, you cannot complain about being known by your associations.

[2] Immigrants are actually 30 percent less likely to be incarcerated than are U.S.-born individuals who are white. See The Mythical tie Between Immigration and Crime, Stanford Institute for Economic Policy Research, July 21, 2023.