THIRD SUNDAY OF ADVENT

Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11
Psalm 126 or Luke 1:46b-55
1 Thessalonians 5:16-24
John 1:6-8, 19-28

Prayer of the Day: Stir up the wills of your faithful people, Lord God, and open our ears to the words of your prophets, that, anointed by your Spirit, we may testify to your light; through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.

“And John testified, ‘I saw the Spirit descending from heaven like a dove, and it remained on him.’” John 1:32.

Though the outpouring of God’s Spirit is always an extraordinary event, this is not the first instance of it in the Bible. The Spirit of the Lord fell mightily upon the judges of Israel giving them strength to perform superhuman feats in their battles for Israel’s liberation. e.g., Samuel at Judges 15:14-15. God’s Spirit fell upon Saul shortly after he was anointed king of Israel. I Samuel 10:6-10. In our lesson from the Hebrew scriptures, the prophet declares, “The Spirit of God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to bring good tidings to the afflicted.” Isaiah 61:1. Of course, there is the marvelous story in the second chapter of Acts about God’s outpouring of the Spirit upon the disciples at Pentecost. Acts 2:1-21. So, too, the Spirit of God descended from heaven upon Jesus, says John. But John goes on to say one thing more. “[The Spirit] remained on him.”

The Greek verb translated here as “remained” is “meno.” This verb can be translated as “live,” “dwell” or “lodge.” One who “remains” in this sense is one who does not leave the realm of the sphere in which one finds oneself. “meno.” can also mean to “continue” or “persist.” Indeed, it is used in all these senses throughout John’s gospel. The first disciples Jesus called followed him home and “stayed” with him. John 1:38-39. The Samaritans brought to Jesus by the woman he met at the well invite Jesus to “stay” with them and Jesus does just that-for two days. John 4:39-40. The bread of heaven Jesus promises to all who believe in him “endures” for eternal life. Jesus “remains” in Galilee rather than going up to Jerusalem with his brothers for the Feast of Tabernacles. John 7:1-9. Jesus tells his audience that those who “’continue’ in my word…will know the truth and the truth will make you free.” John 8:31-32. Rather than going immediately to the bed side of Lazarus upon hearing that he was ill, Jesus “stayed” two days longer in the place where he was. John 11:1-6. Jesus tells his people that whoever believes in him does not “remain” in darkness. John 12:46. During his last hours together with his disciples, Jesus tells them that God the Father “dwells” in him (John 14:10) and that the Spirit “dwells” within them. John 14:17. Jesus admonishes his disciples to “abide” in him just as a branch clings to the vine (John 15:4) and to “abide” in his love. John 15:9. All of these verses employ that same word, “meno,” variously translated in the English text.

The import is clear. God’s Spirit remains on, continues with, abides in, dwells with and persists with Jesus. In the same way, Jesus’ disciples remain, continue, abide, dwell and persist with Jesus, just as Jesus remains, continues, abides, dwells and persists in the Father. In the seventeenth chapter of John’s gospel, Jesus prays that his disciples may be one even as he and the Father are one so that “the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them.” John 17:26. The love which is the glue binding the unity of the Trinity is to be reflected in the community of faith grounded in Jesus. This is the testimony of John the Baptizer.

John’s good news comes to us during a time when most of us find it hard to keep our congregations, families and communities glued together. Pandemic has robbed us of so much that once mediated the Spirit’s binding power: the gathered community; the Sacraments; singing together; greeting one another with the peace of God; simple gestures like hand shakes, hugs and back slaps. Yes, I am thankful for the technology allowing us to be together virtually. We are better off with it than we would be without. Still, for me, it serves as much to remind me of our separation as it does to connect us.

Despite all this, John’s testimony is good news. It is good because it reminds us that our unity, like all of God’s good gifts, is a gift of grace. Once given, the Spirit cannot be taken away from us. She remains, continues, abides, dwells and persists with the church. Though physically distanced from one another, we are neither distanced from Jesus nor abandoned by the Holy Spirit. John’s testimony assures us that the Spirit travels through the prayers arising our homes, telephone calls, cards, letters, texts, emails, U tube worship services, Zoom meetings and whatever other channels she might make use of in this time of our physical separation. The Spirit is nothing if not innovative.

I am hopeful that the church will come out of this time of pandemic with an enriched sense of the ways in which the Spirit works among us. It is my prayer that we will begin to recognize how deeply we need and depend on one another. I hope that the time we spend apart will strengthen our prayer life, remind us of our frailty and deepen our compassion for our neighbors. I hope that we will emerge from this dreadful epidemic with a deeper appreciation for the people whose faithful work maintains the network of health care, food distribution, sanitation and safety that we are so prone to take for granted and undervalue in times of relative peace and prosperity. I hope that the events of the past year have opened our eyes to the vast disparity in resources between those of us who identify as white and people of color. More so, that having had our eyes open, we will be driven by God’s Spirit to pursue justice. Though much ecclesiastical activity seems to have ground to a halt, rest assured that the Spirit remains at work in Christ’s church.

Here is a poem by Emma Lazarus reflecting on the synagogue in Newport, Rhode Island, the oldest in the United States. It was built in 1763. At the time Lazarus wrote her poem, the building was abandoned. It has since become the home of a worshiping Jewish congregation once again. Lazarus reflects on the lively faith that sustained so many generations to which the synagogue testifies in much the same way as John the Baptizer testifies to the Spirit he witnessed remaining upon Jesus.

In the Jewish Synagogue at Newport

Here, where the noises of the busy town,
The ocean’s plunge and roar can enter not,
We stand and gaze around with tearful awe,
And muse upon the consecrated spot.

No signs of life are here: the very prayers
Inscribed around are in a language dead;
The light of the “perpetual lamp” is spent
That an undying radiance was to shed.

What prayers were in this temple offered up,
Wrung from sad hearts that knew no joy on earth,
By these lone exiles of a thousand years,
From the fair sunrise land that gave them birth!

How as we gaze, in this new world of light,
Upon this relic of the days of old,
The present vanishes, and tropic bloom
And Eastern towns and temples we behold.

Again we see the patriarch with his flocks,
The purple seas, the hot blue sky o’erhead,
The slaves of Egypt,—omens, mysteries,—
Dark fleeing hosts by flaming angels led.

A wondrous light upon a sky-kissed mount,
A man who reads Jehovah’s written law,
‘Midst blinding glory and effulgence rare,
Unto a people prone with reverent awe.

The pride of luxury’s barbaric pomp,
In the rich court of royal Solomon—
Alas! we wake: one scene alone remains,—
The exiles by the streams of Babylon.

Our softened voices send us back again
But mournful echoes through the empty hall:
Our footsteps have a strange unnatural sound,
And with unwonted gentleness they fall.

The weary ones, the sad, the suffering,
All found their comfort in the holy place,
And children’s gladness and men’s gratitude
‘Took voice and mingled in the chant of praise.

The funeral and the marriage, now, alas!
We know not which is sadder to recall;
For youth and happiness have followed age,
And green grass lieth gently over all.

Nathless the sacred shrine is holy yet,
With its lone floors where reverent feet once trod.
Take off your shoes as by the burning bush,
Before the mystery of death and God.

Source: Emma Lazarus: Selected Poems and Other Writings, (c. 2002 by Broadview Press) Emma Lazarus (1849-1887) is most famous for the words of her poem, The New Colossus, inscribed on the base of the Statute of Liberty.

“Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

She was one of the first successful and publicly recognized Jewish American authors. Lazarus was born in New York City to a wealthy family. She began writing and translating poetry as a teenager and was publishing translations of German poems by the 1860s. Lazarus was moved by the fierce persecution of her people in Russia, a frequent topic of her writings, as well as their struggles to assimilate into American culture. You can sample more of Emma Lazarus’ poetry and read more about her at the Poetry Foundation website.

SECOND SUNDAY OF ADVENT

Isaiah 40:1-11
Psalm 85:1-2, 8-13
2 Peter 3:8-15a
Mark 1:1-8

Prayer of the Day: Stir up our hearts, Lord God, to prepare the way of your only Son. By his coming strengthen us to serve you with purified lives; through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.

“The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” Mark 1:1.

Beginnings are seldom noticed as such when they occur. Seemingly inconsequential happenings can set in motion a string of unforeseen consequences radiating their effects like ripples over the face of a pond generated by the impact of a small stone. There is no way I could have known that a fleeting glance and exchange of smiles with a young women I met passing through the church basement thirty eight years ago was the beginning of anything. It might have led to nothing at all. Or it may perhaps have flowered briefly into one of those relationships that, for whatever reason, fades into one of the many “roads not taken” along the winding paths of our lives. Indeed, if either of us had been engaged in conversation with someone else or if the timing of my entrance had been delayed or accelerated by any number of potential distractions, our brief encounter might never have happened. Yet from this vantage point in the autumn years of my life, I can recognize that meeting of our eyes as a critical turning point, the beginning of a relationship that has nurtured, sustained, transformed us-and generated three children and five grandchildren.

So, too, the appearance of a preacher in the wilderness of a backwater province on the fringes of the Roman Empire might well have gone unnoticed-but for the fact that there was a young man from the town of Nazareth coming forward with many more to be baptized by this preacher. Reading forward to the account of Jesus’ baptism, it isn’t clear whether John the Baptizer or anyone else saw the heavens rent asunder and the Spirit descending upon Jesus. For all we know, this might have been for John just another day’s work. From our standpoint as recipients of the good news about Jesus, we recognize this moment as a profound new beginning.

Of course, there have been other “beginnings” in the scriptural narrative. The words spoken by John in our gospel lesson were first pronounced by the prophet Isaiah declaring a new beginning for the people of Judah languishing in exile. Both of these beginnings harken back to “the beginning” where God speaks the cosmos into existence and quickens it with God’s divine breath. Genesis 1:1-5. In truth, eternity intersects with every nanosecond of time and God’s being sustains every molecule in the universe. Thus, every occurrence, however seemingly insignificant, involves a “God factor” making it at least potentially the beginning of something big.

Knowing this to be so, can we dare hope that any of the events within this last dark year of political chaos, pandemic and racial violence is the beginning of something beautiful? Do we dare imagine that one day George Floyd’s murder will be remembered as the spark igniting a national effort comparable to the New Deal and the Marshall Plan to dismantle systemic racism and reverse its centuries of insidious effects? Do we dare hope that the Covid-19 pandemic will be remembered as the event that finally convinced us universal healthcare is both a human right and essential to the common good? Will the Trump presidency finally awaken the American Church to the dangers of nationalist idolatry and move us to a deeper appreciation of the church’s catholicity?

Farfetched? Maybe. But Advent is, after all, the season of hope. If we believe that God spoke light and being out of darkness and nothingness, birthed the people of Israel from the chains of slavery and worked the miracle of resurrection in the darkness of a tomb, is it such a stretch to believe that God has been at work redemptively in what we all know to have been a bleak year?

Here is a poem by Mary Ellen Edge contemplating the hiddenness of beginnings and their concealed potential.

Beginnings

Dawns are always wonder-dawns
Of perfect untouched hours;
Buds are perfect promises
Of unseen perfect flowers.

Youth is life unlimited,
Not yet defined and small-
Not yet poured out in queer-shaped jugs
That cannot hold it all.

Source: Poetry, June 1923. I have been unable to find any information about this poet or any of her other works. I would appreciate any information anyone else might be able to provide.

FIRST SUNDAY OF ADVENT

Isaiah 64:1-9
Psalm 80:1-7, 17-19
1 Corinthians 1:3-9
Mark 13:24-37

Prayer of the Day: Stir up your power, Lord Christ, and come. By your merciful protection waken us to the threatening dangers of our sins, and keep us blameless until the coming of your new day, for you live and reign with the Father and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.

“Beware, keep alert; for you do not know when the time will come.” Mark 13:33.

Rev. Kyle Childress, a pastor and teacher I greatly admire, grew up and ministered most of his life in the state of Texas. He tells a story about an old rancher whose face was permanently sunburned and lined from decades of living outside. He had developed a “perpetual squint,” so that, daylight or dark, indoors or out, he always looked like he was squinting, looking across some pasture for a stray cow in the face of glaring sun and blowing wind. Squinting, looking into the distance for so many years had shaped his face. Indeed, it had shaped the way he looked at everything.

Pastor Childress goes on to reflect on how we are shaped by where our gaze is fixed and how the course of our lives is determined by who and by what we love, hope for and expect. Seems to me that is a good thought with which to start the new church year. It is a great parable through which to view the season of Advent. Truth is, we are shaped by our longings and what we desire determines how we live and how we treat each other.

In our gospel lesson for this Sunday, Jesus encourages his disciples to keep their gaze, their perpetual squint, on his coming. That is easier said than done. There is plenty out there to distract us. There will be wars and rumors of war, says Jesus, earthquakes and famines. Mark 13:8. Of course, we don’t need Jesus to tell us that. But then Jesus goes on to tell us about things we have not yet experienced; things that are not simply part and parcel of human history. The sun will cease to give its light. The moon will turn dark. The stars will fall from the sky. All those things we thought where constant; all those things we imagined would never change suddenly do. And then, they will see the Son of man coming in the clouds with great power and glory.

The Greek word “erchomi” that we translate as “coming” frequently means rather “to appear.” So we might better translate this verse “then they will see the Son of Man ‘appearing’ in the clouds.” That is an important distinction because it is not as though Jesus left us alone two millennia ago only to return at some point in the distant future. He is here now. He has always been here for eyes that can see him; for eyes that have been trained to search for signs of his appearing and the unfolding of God’s reign. For those whose perpetual squint is formed by Jesus and the reign of God he promises, those signs are everywhere.

On election day 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. “’Let’s forget about politics. Let’s hug each other and be friends.’” Harmony: Opposing “Trump and Biden groups make music together,” CityNews, November 3, 2020.

Like the tender shoots of the fig tree, this fragile moment, during which two groups of bitterly opposed people were able to see through the hateful rhetoric, stereotypical thinking and rigid ideology dividing them to their common humanity, gives us a glimpse, however fleeting, into what God desires and promises for all people. Disciples understand that moments of compassion and reconciliation like these are not just islands of tenderness in an ocean of hatred and indifference. They are God’s future pressing in upon our present. They remind us that the grip of evil is not unbreakable. They are a foretaste of God’s salvation poised to break over all creation like a cosmic tsunami.

Nevertheless, disciples of Jesus also understand that the reign of God does not come without struggle, suffering and loss. The cross is the shape of God’s reign as it takes hold of a world in bondage to sin. Thus, Jesus warns us not to be led astray by promises that the end is at hand when, in fact, there remains much work to do. Mark 13:5-7. Discipleship requires that we recognize the evils of systemic racism, economic injustice and entrenched patriarchy and know that baptism into Christ Jesus is a call to struggle against these and all other powers of sin, death and the devil. We would be naïve to expect this struggle to be short lived. We would be foolish to believe God’s reign will come without suffering, sacrifice and loss. But Jesus would have us know that, even in this, we are witnessing not merely the death throws of the old creation, but the birth pangs of the new.

It is not in vain that Jesus taught us to pray first and foremost that God’s name be hallowed, that God’s kingdom come and that God’s will be done on earth as in heaven. Praying these petitions, meditating on them and allowing them to shape the contours of our souls transforms us just as surely as gazing into the rugged outdoor elements transformed the expression of that old rancher’s face. So keep awake. Keep your eye peeled for signs of the kingdom. Keep your squint focused on Jesus and on what he is doing, so that when he is revealed to all the world and God’s gentle reign of peace breaks in, your eyes will have been trained to recognize it, your heart will have been shaped to love it and you will have formed the habits required for living in it joyfully, thankfully and obediently.

The above story from Warren, Michigan illustrates how music can both be and affect signs of the advent of God’s reign. Here is a poem by Francis Ellen Watkins Harper making a similar observation.

Songs for the People

SUNDAY OF CHRIST THE KING

Ezekiel 34:11-16, 20-24
Psalm 95:1-7a
Ephesians 1:15-23
Matthew 25:31-46

Prayer of the Day: O God of power and might, your Son shows us the way of service, and in him we inherit the riches of your grace. Give us the wisdom to know what is right and the strength to serve the world you have made, through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.

“God put this power to work in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the age to come.” Ephesians 1:20-21.

The celebration of Christ the King on the last Sunday of the church year is a relatively new addition to the liturgical calendar. It was instituted in 1925 by Pope Pius XI in response to what he characterized as growing secularism. The old monarchies governing Europe had been dissolved by this time and had given way to the modern nation state. The new secular environment had become a breeding ground for dangerous and dehumanizing ideologies elevating loyalty to the nation state and its rulers over all other claims. As Pope Pius saw it, this new nationalism amounted to idolatry, constituting a threat both to the Christian faith and to human worth and dignity. Sadly, the horrific events that unfolded in the following decades proved him right. Sadder still is our generation’s failure to learn from this history the dark places to which nationalistic idolatry invariably leads. Saddest of all is the American church’s failure to address the godless ideology of nationalism as it rears its ugly head once again, not only within our nation, but within the very heart of our congregations.

The nationalistic ideology of “American exceptionalism” enshrined in the very first sentence of the 2016 GOP platform (which has been re-adopted by the RNC as the 2020 platform) states specifically: “We believe that American exceptionalism — the notion that our ideas and principles as a nation give us a unique place of moral leadership in the world — requires the United States to retake its natural position as leader of the free world. Tyranny and injustice thrive when America is weakened. The oppressed have no greater ally than a confident and determined United States, backed by the strongest military on the planet.”

This dangerous notion that America, as the savior and rightful defender of the free world, justifiably wields its influence carrying a huge thermonuclear stick, meshes well with the rhetoric of religious organizations such as Christian Nationalist Alliance which asserts (among other things) that  “These United States of America were founded by Christian men upon Christian tenets” and that “Islam is a heretical perversion of the Judeo-Christian doctrine and must be recognized and treated as a threat to America and Western Civilization as a whole.” Defense of “Christian civilization” has regularly been invoked to justify harassment of and attacks against Muslim Americans and to uphold an irrational and inhumane ban against refugees fleeing to our country to escape oppression and violence. Exceptionalism is wholly consistent with ideology promoted by Focus on the Family whose “Truth Project” teaches that “America is unique in the history of the world. On these shores a people holding to a biblical worldview have had an opportunity to set up a system of government designed to keep the state within its divinely ordained boundaries.”  It provides the perfect conceptual framework supporting the claim of Rev. Franklin Graham that Donald Trump is in the Whitehouse “because God put him there.”

This toxic mix of nationalism and aberrant Christianity has morphed into a fascist  style populism appealing to the basest instincts of our population and has created an environment favorable to the expression of racist, sexist and anti-Islamic sentiments and acts of hatred against people of color for the last four years. This administration and its religious minions have mainstreamed white supremacy to the point where formerly fringe characters like white supremacist Richard Spencer are able to secure interviews on NPR and alt.right extremists like Stephen Miller have become fixtures in the White House. The replacement of long standing public servants in crucial leadership positions in our government with Trump loyalists over the last week is more than disturbing. This, coupled with the president’s refusal to concede an election that he lost substantially, in terms both of the electoral collage and the popular vote, with the backing/enabling/complicity of the Republican party should concern us all. Whether or not Donald Trump finally leaves the White House in January, the religion of Trumpism will continue to be a toxic force in our country.

What concerns me more, however, is the relative silence of the American church in the face of what can only be described as a fascist deification of the nation and its leader. I understand, of course, that American mainline protestant churches have produced numerous statements and declarations objecting to particular actions and policies of the Trump administration and condemning racism in general. Yet, as far as I am aware, none has named the beast. No protestant church has condemned the Republican party for its idolatrous elevation of the United States to an “exceptional” status. No protestant church (at least none of the white mainline ones) has addressed the hijacking of Christian doctrine and symbols in support of this vile ideology. What we need, in my humble opinion, is an ecumenical Barman like declaration naming the heresies of American exceptionalism and the deification by so-called evangelicals and their leaders of the Republican agenda and Donald Trump.

Voices far more credible than mine are warning the church not to ignore the dangers of nationalist populism. In 2019 the Lutheran World Federation (LWF) published a collection of essays written by theologians, pastors and teachers from around the world under the title, Resisting Exclusion: Global Theological Responses to Populism. In the preface to these deeply thoughtful and disturbing writings, Rev. Martin Junge, LWF General Secretary wrote:

“Exclusionary populism unfolds a negative dynamic, which undermines the very fabric and existence of public and civil society space. It perverts basic norms and values of how we want to live together as society and as international community. Therefore, it is vital to jointly address these challenges by scrutinizing its ideological foundations and denouncing its harmful assumptions. Furthermore, the LWF sees the need to articulate with renewed clarity our vision for just and participatory living together, and live out this calling as churches. We need to give an account of the theological perspectives that emerge from the gospel message, which points to God’s compassionate and liberating presence in this world.”  Id. pp. 9-10 (italics mine).

We should be concerned about this new exposion of American nationalist populism injected with the steroid of religious fervor. As observed by Blaise Pascal, “Men never do evil so completely and cheerfully as when they do it from religious conviction.”

The difficulty, of course, is that many adherents of American exceptionalism and its racist, sexist, homophobic and xenophobic ideological children are sitting in the pews of our churches each Sunday (or in front of their computers in virtual worship). I know from experience that addressing white privilege, supporting refugee resettlement, speaking up for our Muslim siblings and saying in no uncertain terms that Jesus is a globalist can cost a church members and financial support-to say nothing of its pastor’s job. It is possible, perhaps likely, that some congregations will withdraw from the ELCA if its leaders begin to unmask the contradictions between faith in Jesus and a hypernationalistic pledge of allegiance to the United States. But is this really a fitting argument for muting our witness? As much as I value unity within the Body of Christ, I would prefer to see a church divided over the gospel of Jesus Christ than united under something less. I am not prepared to sacrifice our witness to Christ’s just peace just for peace in the ecclesiastical household.

We have a long standing tradition in Lutheranism of avoiding political partisanship in our preaching. That is a sound practice in ordinary times. After all, two people who are equally dedicated to addressing racism, eradicating poverty and caring for refugees can have very different views about how that good work should be done. In ordinary times, politics is the business of working out the nuts and bolts of how best to care for our neighbors. These are not ordinary times, however. There is no reconciling “America first” with “Truly I perceive that God shows no partiality, but in every nation any one who fears God and does what is right is acceptable to God.” Acts 10:34-35. There is no reconciling preservation of culture based on “blood, soil and race” and the “great multitude which no one could number from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and tongues standing before the throne and before the Lamb.” Revelation 7:9. There is no reconciling Trump’s messianic claim that he is “the only one” who can save us and Saint Peter’s declaration that “there is no other name under heaven [than Jesus] given among human beings by which we must be saved.” Acts 4:12. If any of this offends anyone’s politics, they need to get themselves another politics or a another savior.

The celebration of Christ the King serves to remind us that, while the church throughout the world lives under many different governments all asserting their claims to the loyalty of her citizens, yet there is for the church only one King. A nation is only a group of people joined together by culture, ethnicity and force of humanly designed covenants. The church is a living Body joined as one by Christ, its Head. When loyalty to the Body of Christ conflicts with our allegiance to flag or country, “we must obey God rather than human authority.” Acts 5:29.

Here is a peom by Vechel Lindsay speaking to the hijacking of Christian faith in the name of nationalist violence and oppressin.

The Unpardonable Sin

This is the sin against the Holy Ghost: —
To speak of bloody power as right divine,
And call on God to guard each vile chief’s house,
And for such chiefs, turn men to wolves and swine:—

To go forth killing in White Mercy’s name,
Making the trenches stink with spattered brains,
Tearing the nerves and arteries apart,
Sowing with flesh the unreaped golden plains.

In any Church’s name, to sack fair towns,
And turn each home into a screaming sty,
To make the little children fugitive,
And have their mothers for a quick death cry,—

This is the sin against the Holy Ghost:
This is the sin no purging can atone:—
To send forth rapine in the name of Christ:—
To set the face, and make the heart a stone.

Source: The Congo and Other Poems (c. Macmillan, 1914). Nicholas Vachel Lindsay (1879 -1931) was an American poet and originator of modern “singing poetry,” verse intended for singing or chanting. Born in Springfield, Illinois, Lindsay was the son of a well to do medical doctor. The Lindsays lived across the street from the Illinois Executive Mansion then occupied by governor John P. Altgeld whom Lindsay admired for pardoning a number of anarchists convicted in connection with their involvement in the Haymarket Affair. He was also a fan of Abraham Lincoln whom he memorialized in one of his poems in which he exclaims “Would I might rouse the Lincoln in you all!” Lindsay studied medicine at Ohio’s Hiram College from 1897 to 1900. Much to the disappointment of his parents’ however, he left Hiram to attend the Art Institute of Chicago from 1900 to 1903 and the New York School of Art in 1903. His focus was on drawing, an interest that eventually led him to silent film criticism. At this point, Lindsay began writing poetry and traveling across the United States, mostly on foot. In 1914, he published his first poems in Poetry Magazine where he won recognition in the American poetry community. You can read more about Vachel Lindsay and sample more of his poems at the Poetry Foundation website.

Kierkegaard’s Ghost

(News that’s fake, but credible)

In the wake of Donald J. Trump’s failed bid for re-election to the presidency of the United States, several evangelical leaders reportedly met with Satan to discuss a possible détente and agreement of cooperation. “God stood us up on November 3^rd,” fumed Rev. Paula White, a close spiritual adviser of the President. “I prayed myself silly, speaking in tongues and pleading for angelic reinforcements from all over the world. We got squat!” Ralph Reed, lobbyist and former executive director of the Christian Coalition, told us that evangelicals were “sending a message” to the Deity. “We think God needs to understand that he is not indispensable. He needs to know that he can be replaced.”

Said the Rev. Franklin Graham, “We were very disappointed in God’s failure to show up at the 2020 election in the way he did in 2016.” Graham went on to explain that he and his associates were not “rejecting” God. “We just feel that if we cannot rely on God to stand up for his champion and defend Christianity, we have to look for support elsewhere. It is our hope that God will soon wake up, see how his inaction has threatened the future of Christianity in America and step up to the plate. Until then, we have to turn for help wherever we can get it.”

The meeting was arranged by Jerry Falwell, Jr., former president of Liberty University. “We were very encouraged by the outcome of our discussions and look forward to an improved relationship with Satan, ” he said. “True, we have had our differences in the past and there has been some harsh rhetoric between us. But we were able to identify several areas of agreement between the devil’s agenda and our own. Where the future of Christianity hangs in the balance and God seems uninterested in saving it, we need to take a pragmatic approach to protecting Christian morality and family values. After all, we supported a twice divorced admitted sexual predator for president. Why not take help from the devil?”

Ghost reporters interviewed the Prince of Darkness later today who denied the existence of any agreement with evangelicals. “Absolutely no deal was struck,” said the Devil. “They talked. I listened. That’s all.” When pressed on whether any agreement might be forthcoming, Satan expressed some skepticism. “I’m frankly reluctant to commit to anything with them,” he said. “What’s in it for me? My Competition got the divine Name mixed up with these evangelical types and the Trump label. What good came of that? Young people are leaving evangelical churches in droves because they can’t stomach the man. Naturally, I’m pleased about that. Such defections increase my potential market share. But if I’m going to capitalize on this opportunity, I can’t let my brand be tainted with the Trump name. The last thing I need is more bad PR! Of course, these esteemed evangelical leaders all offered to sell me their souls. And I reminded them that I bought their souls already back in 2016. That’s right! They tried to sell me the same souls twice! Who does that? What happened to fair commercial practices and truth in advertising? And they call me the ‘father of lies.’ Go figure.”

Not surprisingly, God declined to be interviewed for this piece. The Almighty typically does not weigh in on the daily news. But on this occasion, the Deity issued a rare, brief press release:

“I’ll gladly accept responsibility for hurricanes, earthquakes, tornadoes and all the other ‘acts’ attributed to me by insurance companies trying to weasel out of paying their claims. But I want to make clear that I had no hand in the 2016 election of Donald Trump. You idiots did that to yourselves.”

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

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

TWENTY-FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Zephaniah 1:7, 12-18
Psalm 90:1-11
1 Thessalonians 5:1-11
Matthew 25:14-30

Prayer of the Day: Righteous God, our merciful master, you own the earth and all its peoples, and you give us all that we have. Inspire us to serve you with justice and wisdom and prepare us for the joy of the day of your coming, through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

“But you, beloved, are not in darkness, for that day to surprise you like a thief; for you are all children of light and children of the day…” I Thessalonians 5:4-5.

This verse stands in stark contrast to the words of the prophet Amos we heard last week.

Alas for you who desire the day of the Lord!
Why do you want the day of the Lord?
It is darkness, not light…

Amos 5:18.

Whereas Paul speaks of the “Day of the Lord” as a new dawn, as a morning to be anticipated with joyful expectation, Amos warns his hearers that it will be for them not light, but darkness. Not salvation, but judgment. Perhaps they are both right. From the perspective of persons of color, the toppling of a confederate monument signifies the erasure of a symbol sanctifying the systemic prejudice they endure every waking moment. But from the perspective of those who revere the monument and what it stands for, it represents the loss of privilege and a stark judgment upon the status quo in which they have become all too comfortable. So, too, the promise of an existence where all people receive their “daily bread” sounds like liberation to the hungry, but conjurers up the dark specters of “communism” or “socialism” in the minds of those who have accumulated wealth and are accustomed to having much more than enough. Thus, whether the Day of the Lord represents darkness or light depends upon where you stand, what you value and where your hope is anchored.

Saint Paul characterizes disciples of Jesus as “children of the light and children of the day.” As such, they live and move in the light. Their eyes are accustomed to sunshine. For them, the inbreaking of God’s gentle reign of justice and peace is a welcome sight. It is possible, of course, to become accustomed to darkness. When you have been moving about in the dark for a long time, your eyes become used to it. You develop a measure of “night vision” enabling you to make out the contuers of your surroundings, avoid obstacles and identify familiar shapes. Darkness becomes the norm. But when someone switches on the light and dispels the darkness, the eyes are shocked by this unwelcome flood of luminescence. One’s normal response is to close one’s eyes against the harsh onslaught of light. “And this is the judgement, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil.” John 3:19.

Paul, therefore, encourages the church in Thessalonica to accustom their eyes to the light of day, even as they live in the midst of so much darkness. The time will come when the “hungry will be filled with good things and the rich sent away empty.” Luke 1:53. The mighty will be put down “from their thrones” and “those of low degree” will be “exalted.” Luke 1:52. The day will come when “justice roll[s] down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.” Amos 5:24. All who have been thirsting for righteousness, hungering for justice and seeking the reign of God welcome this development and every sign of its coming with joy. But those who have been living in darkness, those who assumed that might will always make right, those who imagined that the way things are is the way they must always be, for them the inbreaking of God’s reign of justice and peace will be a rude awakening, a harsh and terrifying light shining into the darkest corners and exposing what they always believed would remain forever hidden.

So the question is, are we becoming the kind of people capable of living in the light? Are we being transformed into the kind of people who can recognize and be recognizable to Jesus in the day of his coming in glory? Where will we stand in relationship to the poor, the hungry, the naked, the sick, the persecuted and imprisoned when the Son of Man returns to judge the nations? Some might criticize me here for suggesting that salvation depends on human good works rather than grace. Rest assured, there is no question that God’s redemptive love embraces all without regard to their worthiness. Furthermore, I think that Saint Paul’s words about the Day of the Lord and the Last Judgment in Matthew 25 to which I alluded have far more to do with what God is calling us toward this moment than with who does and who does not get into heaven at the end of time. If you know that, in the end, the value of one’s life is not measured in terms of power, wealth, fame, professional accomplishment but simply in terms of how one has treated “the least” among us, what light does that shed on how we are living today? The good news is that the Day of the Lord is beginning to dawn even now. Even now it is possible to begin accustoming our eyes to the light that breaks into our lives with every opportunity to practice justice, exercise compassion and show mercy, a light that must inevitably envelop the whole of creation. “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” John 1:5.

Here is a poem by Maya Angelou daring us to emerge from the darkness of our fears, prejudices and blood feuds to a new day. Perhaps this is something akin to what Saint Paul means when he challenges disciples of Jesus to walk in the light.

On the Pulse of the Morning

A Rock, A River, A Tree
Hosts to species long since departed,
the mastodon,
The dinosaur, who left dried tokens
Of their sojourn here
On our planet floor,
Any broad alarm of their hastening doom
Is lost in the gloom of dust and ages.

But today, the Rock cries out to us, clearly, forcefully,
Come, you may stand upon my
Back and face your distant destiny,
But seek no haven in my shadow,
I will give you no hiding place down here.

You, created only a little lower than
The angels, have crouched too long in
The bruising darkness
Have lain too long
Facedown in ignorance,
Your mouths spilling words
Armed for slaughter.

The Rock cries out to us today,
You may stand upon me,
But do not hide your face.

[…]

Source: The Complete Collected Poems of Maya Angelou (c. Maya Angelou 1993; pub. by Random House Inc., 1994). Maya Angelou (1928-2014) was a multi-talented American poet, author, singer, dancer and civil rights activist. She published seven autobiographies, three books of essays, several books of poetry, and was credited with a list of plays, movies, and television shows spanning over 50 years. She is perhaps best known for her well known autobiography, I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, published in 1969. The book earned her the National Book Award. Angelou was awarded the National Medal of Arts by President Bill Clinton in 2000 and the Presidential Medal of Freedom by President Barack Obama in 2010. You can read more about Maya Angelou and sample more of her poetry at the Poetry Foundation Website.

TWENTY-THIRD SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Amos 5:18-24
Psalm 70
1 Thessalonians 4:13-18
Matthew 25:1-13

Prayer of the Day: O God of justice and love, you illumine our way through life with the words of your Son. Give us the light we need, and awaken us to the needs of others, through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

“Keep awake therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.” Matthew 25:13.

By the time Sunday rolls around, one of three things will have occurred. Donald Trump will have been elected to a second term as president of the United States, in which case we can expect four more of the same. Or, alternatively, Joe Biden will be elected president by a solid electoral majority and we can hope some semblance of order will return to the White House. Or the election may not be decided tomorrow or the next day or the day after or the week after. The legitimacy of the election might even be cast into doubt and held captive to litigation. That would place us in uncharted territory. Worst case scenario, the election will be decided by the courts leaving a substantial part of the country feeling that it has been stolen from them.

I considered delaying my normal Monday publication date until Wednesday following the election so that my reflections would be more “contextual.” But I decided against it. After all, the gospel lesson speaks directly to uncertainty: uncertainty over when the bridegroom will show up; uncertainty over when, if ever, we will know who won the presidential election; uncertainty over what the future holds regardless; uncertainty over when this pandemic will subside; uncertainty over how many more lifetimes God’s people must wait for God’s reign of justice and peace to unfold. Jesus’ parable seems directed to people living in times of uncertainty. And let’s face it, those are the only times there have ever been. The ground under our feet has never been as firm as we tell ourselves it is. When the sun is shining, the sky is clear, systemic racism remains invisible and no pandemic looms on the horizon, it is easy to convince ourselves otherwise. But in days like these, the fragility of our world and of our very lives is hard to deny. Whatever the political weather, Jesus’ word is the same. Be prepared at all times for the appearing of God’s reign-but expect delays.

I have made no secret of my hope that the upcoming election will bring an end to the Trump presidency and the demons of racial hate it has raised up. But to those of you who share this hope, understand that it might not come to fruition. If we must face four more years of Trump’s dark and suffocating shadow, do we have enough oil in our lamps to get through those years? Are we so thoroughly convinced that the reign of God prevails in the end that we can stubbornly persist in speaking truth to power and advocating for the rights, safety and security of the most vulnerable among us without giving in to despair? Have we got what it takes to keep picking up trash on the shoreline even as regulatory repeal opens the floodgates to global pollution? The real test of discipleship is faithfulness even when faithful action appears futile. Are we up to that testing?

On the other hand, Donald Trump’s electoral defeat is hardly the end of the church’s struggle. My greatest fear is not that Trump will remain in office, but that he will lose to Joe Bidan and we will declare victory and go home. Getting Trump out of the White House will not rid our country of the evils his presidency has uncovered. Trump is the symptom, not the cause of systemic racism, patriarchy, sexual violence and idolatrous nationalism. If, as I hope, Trump is defeated in 2020, we cannot ignore the fact that a substantial piece of the American population will still be inflamed with the same racial hate that brought Trump to the pinnacle of power. Indeed, they will likely become more angry, more desperate, more energized and therefore more violent and dangerous. Our schools, workplaces and government institutions will still be laced with systemic racism and patriarchy. The gap between the rich and the ever shrinking middle class will still be growing. The shocking number of people living with food insecurity will still be there the day after the votes are all in. None of this will change automatically after the election. The new occupant of the White House will be beholden to big money and corporate interests despite all his protestation and rhetoric to the contrary.

So once again, the question is the same: Do we have enough oil in our lamps to continue on when it becomes clear that the reign of God has not yet come and our work has only just begun? Do we have the stamina to begin pushing Joe Biden on day one to take concrete steps toward dismantling systemic racism, extending health care to all people within our borders, addressing the disparity in wealth that falls most heavily on people of color and renew the country’s involvement in the international community’s efforts to combat climate change? Are we prepared to continue being gadflies goading our bishops toward racial reconciliation within the church that goes beyond preachy-screechy social statements and involves substantial financial support of Black churches and their ministries, thereby modeling the cry for reparations from a nation that was built on uncompensated Black labor? Are we prepared to keep pressing American church leaders  jointly to condemn American exceptionalism and Christian nationalism as nothing short of heresy?

And what if the third possibility materializes? What if we have no winner and no clear path toward resolving the electoral battle? I strongy suspect we will muddle through somehow. But then again, maybe not. Could this be the beginning of the end of American democracy as we know it? Could this impending crisis be the death rattle of an empire? Has our country had its day in the sun? Is it time for the United States finally to go the way of the Byzantine, Macadonian, Persian, Babylonian and Assyrian empires? God’s people throughout the ages have seen nations and empires come and go. “Crowns and thrones shall perish/kingdoms wax and wain” as the hymn goes. Does the American church, as symbiotically bonded with the American dream as it is, have enough of its soul left to carry on after that dream has been extinquished? Do we have the spiritual resources that enabled  the ancient church with its parishes, convents and monasteries to continue the gospel witness and care for the poorest of the poor in the wake of civilization’s collapse?

Whatever the outcome tomorrow, the church’s task is the same: to bear witness in word and deed to Jesus and the reign of God he proclaims. Though it does not yet appear in its fullness, the light of that reign breaks in through the darkness to enlighten, encourage and inspire those who wait for it, long for it, stay awake watching for it and do whatever it takes for as long as it takes to bear faithful witness to it.

Here is a poem by Langston Hughes pondering the destiny of a dream deferred. Could the same observations apply to our longing for the reign of God, which at times appears hopelessly out of reach?

Harlem

What happens to a dream deferred?

SUNDAY OF ALL SAINTS

Revelation 7:9-17
Psalm 34:1-10, 22
1 John 3:1-3
Matthew 5:1-12

Prayer of the Day: Almighty God, you have knit your people together in one communion in the mystical body of your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. Grant us grace to follow your blessed saints in lives of faith and commitment, and to know the inexpressible joys you have prepared for those who love you, through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.

Odd as it may seem, my reflections on All Saints Sunday this year have been shaped by a cartoon, more specifically, the movie The Incredibles.” For those of you who might not be familiar with that flick, it is a 2004 American computer-animated superhero film, written and directed by Brad Bird and produced by Pixar Animation Studios. The action takes place in an alternative version of America in the 1960s where superheroes regularly assist law enforcement authorities in keeping the peace and protecting society from danger. But public opinion turns against the superheroes after several of their rescues and crime prevention measures result in significant collateral damage. Several lawsuits result, leading the government to initiate the Superhero Relocation Program. Under that initiative, “Supers” are required to assume secret identities, settle into quiet suburban neighborhoods and abandon their heroic exploits. Fifteen years after the act goes into effect, Bob and Helen Parr—formerly known as Mr. Incredible and Elastigirl—and their children are living in the quiet neighborhood of Metroville.

Bob works as an insurance agent in his new identity, a job he finds dull and unfulfilling. After losing that job for an act of insubordination, he becomes despondent. But then he receives a message from a mysterious woman called Mirage who employs him to destroy a savage tripod-like robot, the Omnidroid, on the remote island of Nomanisan. Bob battles and disables the robot by tricking it into ripping out its own power source. Bob finds the action rejuvenating and the resulting income welcome. What Bob does know is that the Omnidroid is the creation of Buddy Pine, a young man who worshiped Bob as Mr. Incredible in his childhood and sought unsuccessfully to become his sidekick. Bob dismissed Pine as a nuisance, rebuffing his childish efforts to follow him about on his heroic exploits. The frustration of Pine’s dream of becoming a superhero has made him bitter toward all the Supers. He has been using Mirage to lure superheroes, such as Bob, to Nomanisan where they are killed by Omnidroid.

I don’t want to be a spoiler for those of you who have not seen this remarkable film, so I will leave the narrative at this point and encourage you to watch it in its entirety.[1] I do, however, want to focus on Buddy Pine, the superhero fan turned villain. Buddy resents the Supers, not so much because they have powers he lacks. He hates them because they represent something he will never be, namely, a hero. Buddy, it seems, has no interest in protecting the public or fighting evil. He craves the status, the admiration and esteem in which the Supers were held in their heyday. In one very telling exchange with Mr. Incredible, Pine discloses his plan to murder all the Supers and set the Omnidroid loose on society. As he alone holds the key to disabling the Omnidroid, it will appear to all the world that Pine is a true superhero when he shuts the savage robot down. Anyone with the technology to manage it can be a superhero. “And when everyone is super, nobody will be.” Rather than raising himself up through aspiring to the Supers’ heroism, Buddy Pine would pull them all down to his own level.

So what does any of this have to do with All Saints? Well, it makes me wonder whether we protestants don’t cheapen the term “saint” when we apply it as liberally as we do. Yes, I understand that in some sense all the baptized are “saints” and that this status is conferred upon us by grace alone through faith-not by any effort on our part. That notwithstanding, “saint” is not a title I would willingly confer on myself. I cannot imagine telling anyone to “imitate me” as does Saint Paul. But there are people I believe are worth imitating and that I do my best to imitate, however imperfectly. I try to emulate Saint Augustine’s thirst for understanding and his devotion to articulating the Christian faith in the shadow of civilization’s collapse. I try to emulate St. Francis of Assisi’s devotion to the love and wellbeing of all creation. I struggle to emulate the courageous witness to Christ given by Oscar Romero and Dietrich Bonhoeffer under the weight of oppression and hostility. I try to practice the faithful devotion displayed by Clarence Jordan and the Koinonia Farm community embodying God’s gentle reign on a violent planet . I do not come close to matching the work and witness of these saints. But I like to think that I am a better man for having spent my life trying.

We live in a cynical age where negative campaigning, tearing one another down and ruining reputations is the norm. Though it probably is not fair to blame social media for all of this, there is no doubt that it has exacerbated the problem. Many voices I hear regularly on social media take a perverse delight in exposing the shortcomings and failures of public figures, be they politicians, preachers or journalists. Of course, corruption, falsehood and hypocrisy need to be exposed. No apology is required for that. But I sometimes worry that our overheated zeal for “cutting the fat ones down to size” amounts to nothing more than a desire for a world where “everyone is super” and therefore nobody is. I worry that we are lending credence to the jaded assumption that all politicians are corrupt liars, all journalists are purveyors of fake news, all preachers are hucksters, all religious people hypocrites, all cops are bullies, everybody is finally out for themselves alone and life is just a war of all against all. People who put their lives on the line for anything that doesn’t profit them are “suckers.” I worry that we are making for ourselves a world without heroes, saints or anything worth sacrificing for. That would be a bleak and sorry place. As the hymn reminds us, “A world without saints forgets how to praise.”[2]

If we are not seeing saints among us these days, perhaps it is because we are looking in the wrong places. Our culture celebrates power and success, but often sainthood lives under the shadow of weakness and failure. Heroism burns most brightly in the wake of defeat. I think of Heidi Heitkamp, formerly Senator of North Dakota, who was willing to vote on principle against confirmation of then Supreme Court nominee Brett Kavanaugh-even though she knew it could and ultimately did result in her losing re-election. I think of a colleague of mine who had more than enough support for nomination as a synodical bishop, but declined because he felt that “the last thing the ELCA needs right now is another old white guy in its pantheon of bishops.” I think of Carolyn Grant, a sixty-three year old retired nurse with severe asthma symptoms, who voluntarily returned to practice last March, serving on the front lines in the fight against Covid-19. There are saints among us worthy of our emulation. We just need eyes to see them.

Most of us never rise to the level of saintly heroism anymore than saintly heroism rises to the level of Jesus’ perfect obedience to the will of his Father. But the courage, humility and willingness to put the wellbeing of neighbors and the priorities of God’s reign ahead of self interest displayed in the lives of the saints can inspire the rest of us to be better disciples of Jesus.

Here is a poem by Mary O’Donnell celebrating ordinary people living heroic lives and perhaps giving us a few clues about what sainthood looks like and where we might find it.

Unlegendary Heroes

‘Life passes through places.’

–P.J. Duffy, Landscapes of South Ulster

Patrick Farrell, of Lackagh, who was able to mow one acre and one rood Irish in a day. Tom Gallagher, Cornamucklagh, could walk 50 Irish miles in one day. Patrick Mulligan, Cremartin, was a great oarsman. Tommy Atkinson, Lismagunshin, was very good at highjumping—he could jump six feet high. John Duffy, Corley, was able to dig half an Irish acre in one day. Edward Monaghan, Annagh, who could stand on his head on a pint tumbler or on the rigging of a house.

          –1938 folklore survey to record the local people who occupied the South Ulster parish landscape.                                    

 * * *

Kathleen McKenna, Annagola,
who was able to wash a week’s sheets, shirts
and swaddling, bake bread and clean the house
all of a Monday.

Birdy McMahon, of Faulkland,
walked to Monaghan for a sack of flour two days before
her eighth child was born.

Cepta Duffy, Glennan,
very good at sewing—embroidered a set of vestments
in five days.

Mary McCabe, of Derrynashallog,
who cared for her husband’s mother in dotage,
fed ten children,
the youngest still at the breast during hay-making.
Mary Conlon, Tullyree,
who wrote poems at night.

Assumpta Meehan, Tonygarvey,
saw many visions and was committed to the asylum.

Martha McGinn, of Emy,
who swam Cornamunden Lough in one hour and a quarter.

Marita McHugh, Foxhole,
whose sponge cakes won First Prize at Cloncaw Show.

Miss Harper, Corley,
female problems rarely ceased, pleasant in ill-health.

Patricia Curley, Corlatt,
whose joints ached and swelled though she was young,
who bore three children.

Dora Heuston, Strananny,
died in childbirth, aged 14 years,
last words ‘Mammy, O Mammy!’

Rosie McCrudden, Aghabog
noted for clean boots, winter or summer,
often beaten by her father.

Maggie Traynor, Donagh,
got no breakfasts, fed by the nuns, batch loaf with jam,
the best speller in the school.

Phyllis McCrudden, Knockaphubble,
who buried two husbands, reared five children,
and farmed her own land.

Ann Moffett, of Enagh,
who taught people to read and did not charge.

Source: Unlegendary Heroes.(c. 1998 by Mary O’Donnell; pub. on Poetry Foundation Website). Mary O’Donnell (b. 1954) was born in County Monaghan to a Catholic middle-class family close to the border with Northern Ireland. She was educated at St. Louis Convent Monaghan and went to college at Maynooth University. There she earned a degree in German and philosophy and subsequently an MA in German studies. She also obtained a diploma in education and became a language and drama teacher. She married Martin Nugent when she was twenty-three and they had one daughter together. In 1988, O’Donnell left teaching to work as a Drama Critic and journalist on the Sunday Tribune. She also became a regular contributor to The Irish Times and several literary magazines. She published her first of four novels in 1992. O’Donnell taught creative writing at Maynooth University for eleven years. Today, she teaches Poetry on Galway University’s MA in Creative Writing. She is a member of the Irish Writers’ Union and a Board Member of the Irish Writers Centre. You can read more about Mary O’Donnell and sample more of her poetry at the Poetry Foundation Website.

[1] There have been several sequels, but I have not seen them and so cannot comment on them one way or the other.

[2] Rejoice in God’s Saints, Pratt Green, Fred, (c. 1973 Hope Publishing Co. & reprinted as Hymn 418 in Evangelical Lutheran Worship (c. 2006 by Evangelical Lutheran Church in America & Pub. by Augsburg Fortress).

TWENTY-FIRST SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST/REFORMATION SUNAY

Leviticus 19:1-2, 15-18
Psalm 1
1 Thessalonians 2:1-8
Matthew 22:34-46

Prayer of the Day: O Lord God, you are the holy lawgiver, you are the salvation of your people. By your Spirit renew us in your covenant of love, and train us to care tenderly for all our neighbors, through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

“’You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.” Matthew 22:37-40.

It could not be simpler. All scripture as we have it in the law, the prophets and the apostles of the New Testament are to be interpreted through the prism of these two great commandments. If any interpretation of the scripture drives one to actions that do not reflect love, it is wrong, however carefully and painstakingly exegeted it may be.

Of course, “love is a many splendored thing.” I can use it to express my feelings for my wife just as easily as I can use it to express my appetite for rum raison ice cream. So, to be clear, love in this biblical sense derives its meaning from the narrative of Jesus’ Incarnation, faithful life, sacrificial death and glorious Resurrection. The Sermon on the Mount in which Jesus reduces the law to a life lived in faithful reliance upon God’s grace and unconditional love for one’s neighbor is not an ideal to which believers are required to live up. Nor is it just a mirror into which we need to look from time to time in order to remind ourselves that we are sinners in need of grace. There is nothing ideal, theoretical or aspirational here. The Sermon lays out the path Jesus actually walked and into which he calls his disciples to follow.

It needs to be said that the love to which Jesus calls us has little to do with affection. It is something practiced rather than felt. That means love is extended even, or rather especially, to enemies. That is more problematic than many of us like to admit. I have heard good church people say repeatedly, “I don’t hate anyone.” I wonder, though, whether we are being entirely truthful with ourselves when we make remarks like that. I also wonder whether it is fair to expect people not to experience hatred. Can you insist that genocide survivors not to hate the ones who orchestrated the murder of their families and the destruction of their homelands? Can you ask survivors of sexual abuse to feel less than hatred toward their abusers? To be sure, some people in these circumstances have reached the point where they have extinguished their hatred and are able to forgive from the heart.  Some have even become reconciled with their tormentors. But that usually comes at the end of a long road of struggle. I am not sure it is fair to impose it as a rule. If hate is so alien to God’s people, why do we have so many psalms in the Bible that teach us how to express it? Do these psalms conflict with what Jesus teaches us about love for enemies? Is it possible to love people you hate?

Hate is often portrayed as the antithesis of love, but I don’t necessarily believe that to be the case. Love and hate often live in close proximity. None are capable of hurting me more than the ones I love most dearly. Nobody is able to arouse my anger like the people closest too me.  Most violent crimes are committed by one family member against another. Hatred might be defined as love that has gone off the rails, love that has been betrayed, love broken down through the prism of an abusive upbringing. In its own perverse way, hatred testifies to the existence of love and our yearning for it. Without love, I doubt we would be capable of hate.

As Holocaust survivor,  author and philosopher Elie Wiesel has observed, the antithesis of love is not hatred, but indifference. I may not share with our president and his supporters their xenophobic fear and hatred of refugees seeking only the opportunity to live. But if I believe that the Trump administration is responsible for a strong economy and my retirement account is doing well, I won’t make a fuss over these people that I don’t even know. So, too, I might think it’s a shame what happened to George Floyd and Briana Taylor. I might find it offensive that the president of the United States refers to African nations in terms I will not dignify in print. Still, I don’t care sufficiently to put my nest egg at risk on that account. It is not that I hate my neighbors. I just don’t care enough to love them. Boiled down to its essentials, love means giving a damn, and not just about your own family, tribe, nation or church. We know from numerous examples throughout history that racial discrimination, genocide and other crimes against humanity are carried out by the relatively few under the noses of the many who are simply indifferent.

That brings me back to the extension of love to the enemy. Let us be clear that loving one’s enemy does not mean liking, admiring or even feeling compassion for the enemy. It does not exclude harboring hatred against one’s enemy. Loving one’s enemy does not mean ignoring the enemy’s aggression, allowing the enemy to abuse oneself and others or refraining from taking the enemy to task with a sound rebuke. In my Kierkegaard’s Ghost, I have mercilessly parodied quite a number of public figures leading some to question the depth of my Christian character. Believe it or not, I take that criticism seriously. I ask myself often whether I have crossed a line in seeking to expose what I see to be the injustice and cruelty of civil leaders and the hypocrisy if religious ones. But I do not believe that love is inconsistent with speaking truth to power and, when it comes to employing satire and parody to that end, there is plenty of biblical precedent.

As tough as it must sometimes be, though, love does not lose sight of the enemy’s humanity or forget that the enemy is created in God’s image. As angry and violent as the psalmists’ cries for vengence sometimes are, they always leave the business of dealing out retributive justice in God’s hands where it belongs. Love recognizes the enemy as that one sheep out of ninety-nine the rest of us could do without, but that Jesus is determined to bring back into the flock. Love is not a matter of feeling but doing. You don’t have to feel affection for your neibhbors to feed, cloth, house, visit and heal them. As with many other difficult tasks, the hands must sometimes take the lead and wait for the heart to follow. Love recognizes that what one most hates in the other is often a reflection of what one strenuously denies about oneself. Thus, an encounter with the enemy is an invitation to self reflection and repentance. It has been said that an enemy is one whose story have not yet heard. There may be no justification for the wounds an enemy inflicts on us or upon others. But understanding the enemy’s motives, learning the life paths that brought the enemy to where they stand today and recognizing what within us evokes the enemy’s hostility gives us the handles we need for dismantling that hostility rather then falling deeper into the vortex of endless retaliation.

Here is a poem by Daniel Henderson about encounter with the enemy, illustrating both the potential for healing and the tragic consequences of passing that opportunity by.

Enemies

When I before your gate
Cast sword and shield,
Quitting my ramparts of hate,
Eager to yield,

God, how your hush revealed
The fortress will,
The purpose changeless and steeled-
Hostile still!

Now, in our wrath’s cold blaze
We strut, we guard.
There are castles and moats in your gaze-
My glance is a shard.

Aloof as the very pole,
Disdainful and proud,
I arm myself-my soul
Wears pride as its shroud!

Forever a foe to your mind,
So I shall be,
But oh, if you had been kind,
My enemy!

Source: Poetry: A Magazine of Verse (Vol. 33, November 1928) p. 78. Having researched my anthologies and online resources, I have not been able to find any information on poet, Daniel Henderson. I would welcome information from any source on this poet whose work caught my attention just a few months ago.

TWENTIETH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST

Isaiah 45:1-7
Psalm 96:1-13
1 Thessalonians 1:1-10
Matthew 22:15-22

Prayer of the Day: Sovereign God, raise your throne in our hearts. Created by you, let us live in your image; created for you, let us act for your glory; redeemed by you, let us give you what is yours, through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord.

“Thus says the Lord to his anointed, to Cyrus,
whose right hand I have grasped
to subdue nations before him
and strip kings of their robes,
to open doors before him—
and the gates shall not be closed:
I will go before you…” Isaiah 45:1-2.

Though it is tempting to reflect on the gospel text for this week,[1] I feel compelled to focus instead on our lesson from the Hebrew Scriptures. The reason is that this wonderful text from the Book of the Prophet Isaiah is one of many hijacked by the religion of evangelical Trumpism for its own profane purposes. Leaders of the religious right have cited this text repeatedly, likening Donald Trump to the Persian Emperor, Cyrus, identified by Isaiah as the “anointed one” or “messiah” whose conquest of Babylon enabled the return of exiled Jews to their homeland. Just as the pagan emperor, for his own military and political purposes, sponsored and financed the Jew’s return from exile and the rebuilding of the temple in Jerusalem, so too, it is claimed that the rude, crude and prophane president is fulfilling God’s purpose by stacking the Supreme Court with pro-life and anti LGBTQ judges. Moreover, Trump has facilitated movement of the United States Embassy in Israel from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem, another cherished goal of evangelicals.

Examples of this biblical hijacking abound. Mike Evans, an evangelical leader who was invited to speak in front of Trump at a White House faith event had this to say:

“[Cyrus] was used as an instrument of God for deliverance in the Bible, and God has used this imperfect vessel, this flawed human being like you or I, this imperfect vessel, and he’s using him in an incredible, amazing way to fulfill his plans and purposes…” Times of Israel, March 8, 2018.

Another evangelical leader, Lance Wallnau, is now selling Trump-Cyrus “prayer coins.” There is on the face of these coins an image of emperor Cyrus in the background. (It’s hard to be sure about this as we have no idea what Cyrus actually looked like). In the foreground is an unmistakably clear image of Donald Trump. These coins can be purchased for a cool $45 apiece. I am not quite sure how they are supposed to help you pray. But then, I never understood prayer clothes either. Evangelicals are not the only ones lauding Trump as a modern day Cyrus. Benjamin Netanyahu has also made the identification of Trump with Cyrus, no doubt in response to Mr. Trump’s strong pro-Israeli policies in the middle east.

Some evangelicals, among them Rev. Franklin Graham and Rev. Paula White, maintain that Mr. Trump, despite his obvious moral shortcomings, is a “born again” Christian. Dr. James C. Dobson, founder of Focus on the Family and one of America’s leading evangelicals, claims that the president accepted Jesus Christ as his personal Lord and Savior at a meeting in New York City with hundreds of Christian conservatives. This conversion experience has never been confirmed by anyone else, including  Donald Trump. Others concede that Mr. Trump’s conduct, past and present, falls far short of the conduct expected from a born again Christian. Nonetheless, they feel that Donald Trump has given them an audience and, more than any other candidate Democrat or Republican, has taken seriously their concerns. In both cases, evangelicals are convinced that Trump is God’s answer to their prayers for a champion against what they feel is an attack on their faith and their nation by liberalism, moral relativism, atheism, feminism, political correctness and a host of other destructive forces.

Why does any of this matter? It matters because the church is called upon to proclaim Jesus Christ and the kingdom for which he lived and died. It matters because evangelical Trumpism is employing the church’s scriptures in support of a fascist political movement that has consistently lauded, enabled and incited the most violent racist elements of our population. It matters because the Bible is the church’s book and evangelical Trumpism’s misuse of that book misleads the ignorant and gullible while undermining the credibility of our witness to the gospel. As I have said elsewhere, the Bible is a thick, nuanced and complex collection of prayers, poetry and narrative. It has inspired saints to lives of holiness and courageous witness. But it has also given rise to depraved religious cults and has been used to sanction the most vile systems of human oppression, not the least of which is systemic racism. Those of us who regard the Bible as God’s Word need to make clear what we mean by that-and what we don’t mean.

That brings us to Cyrus. Clearly, the prophet Isaiah saw in the geopolitical events of his day God’s creation of a new beginning for Israel. Persia’s conquest of the Babylonian empire and Cyrus’ self interested policy of allowing a right of return to peoples exiled by the Babylonians, of which the Jews were one, made it possible for the people of Israel to regain the land of promise, rebuild their temple and renew the covenant with their God. This does not make of Cyrus a hero or a champion of Israel. His return proclamation, made ahead of his attack on Babylon, was doubtlessly calculated to destabilize that empire by creating within its borders pockets of support for Persia. Isaiah acknowledged as much, but insisted that, whatever Cyrus’ intentions or the Persian political agenda might be, God’s redemptive purposes for Israel were being worked out “in, with and under” the clash of empires.

Note well, that Isaiah does not encourage his audience to join forces with Cyrus, sign up to serve in his army, support his military and political objectives or champion his policies. Israel is not to emulate Cyrus or admire his character. We are told next to nothing about Cyrus’ character because that, too, is irrelevant. Isaiah is not really interested in Cyrus or what he is up to. Cyrus is only God’s unwitting instrument. Isaiah is chiefly concerned with God and God’s agenda. For the prophet, God is the only real actor in this drama:

I will go before you
and level the mountains,
I will break in pieces the doors of bronze
and cut through the bars of iron,
I will give you the treasures of darkness
and riches hidden in secret places,
so that you may know that it is I, the Lord,
the God of Israel, who call you by your name.
For the sake of my servant Jacob,
and Israel my chosen,
I call you by your name,
I surname you, though you do not know me.
I am the Lord, and there is no other;
besides me there is no god.
I arm you, though you do not know me,
so that they may know, from the rising of the sun
and from the west, that there is no one besides me;
I am the Lord, and there is no other.
I form light and create darkness,
I make weal and create woe;
I the Lord do all these things. Isaiah 45:2-7.

The point is that God is turning Cyrus’ military and political ambitions toward God’s own gracious purposes. Nowhere do we find Isaiah encouraging the kind of slavish devotion to Cyrus as preachers like Rev. Franklin Graham claim for Donald Trump. The church has no need of a human leader to “champion” its causes. If Jesus needed Donald Trump to defend him or his people, he would be a poor excuse for a savior. Evangelical Trumpism therefore amounts to rank idolatry and it is time for us all to speak up and say so. The church of Jesus Christ must be distinguished definitively from the church of Donald Christ. Sadly, that distinction is getting lost on a growing segment of the population for which Trump style evangelicalism equates with Christianity generally.

That said, evangelical Trumpists might be correct in asserting that Donald Trump is God’s tool for accomplishing some good purpose. As I have said many times before, the one positive contribution made by the present administration may well be its exposure of our country’s deep, abiding and systemic racism. In the face of Charlottesville, the killing of George Floyd and the brutality exercised by law enforcement against peaceful protests in its wake we can no longer hide from this reality. Maybe, just maybe, we have reached the point where we can accept responsibility for our nation’s past and take the bold and difficult steps required to dismantle systemic racism.

It is also possible that God has determined the continued reign of the United States of America is inconsistent with God’s good will for all the earth. What better way to bring the empire down than to place it in the hands of an incompetent man baby and allow it to implode. Maybe all our frenzied, well meaning efforts to “fix” America are actually at odds with the direction God is taking us. Because our faith has been so thoroughly blended with patriotism, we cannot imagine the world better off without the American Empire. But again and again, God’s imagination transcends our own imaginative limits. Of course, I don’t know any of this to be the case, lacking as I do Isaiah’s prophetic instincts. What I do know is that however chaotic and violent the times, God is working redemptively at the center of it all. What I do know is that, for disciples of Jesus, there is one “champion,” one “anointed” and one “chosen.” It is neither Cyrus nor Donald Trump.

Here is a poem by Robert Lowell reflecting on the dark places to which our moral imagination can sink when fear of the future and longing for safety lead weak minds to seek solance in strong leaders.

Inauguration Day: January, 1953

The snow had buried Stuyvesant.
The subways drummed the vaults. I heard
the El’s green girders charge on Third,
Manhattan’s truss of adamant,
that groaned in ermine, slummed on want….
Cyclonic zero of the word,
God of our armies, who interred
Cold Harbor’s blue immortals, Grant!
Horseman, your sword is in the groove!

Ice, ice. Our wheels no longer move.
Look, the fixed stars, all just alike
as lack-land atoms, split apart,
and the Republic summons Ike,
the mausoleum in her heart.

Source: Life Studies, (c. 1953 by Robert Lowell, pub. by Farrar, Straus & Giroux, Inc.) Robert Lowell (1917 – 1977) was an American poet. He was born into a Boston family that could trace its origins back to the Mayflower. Growing up in Boston informed Lowell’s poems, which were frequently set in Boston and the New England region. He was appointed the sixth Consultant in Poetry to the Library of Congress, a post he held from 1947 until 1948. Lowell won the National Book Award in 1947 and the National Institute of Arts and Letters Award in 1947. He won the the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry in 1974 and the National Book Critics Circle Award in 1977. Lowel is widely considered one of the most important American poets of the post-World War II era. You can read more about Robert Lowell and sample more of his poetry at the Poetry Foundation Website.

[1] For anyone interested, I discussed this text six years ago in my post for Sunday, October 19, 2014. Though dated, I believe my observations then are still relevant now.