SECOND SUNDAY OF CHRISTMAS

Jeremiah 31:7-14
Psalm 147:12-20
Ephesians 1:3-14
John 1:1-18

Prayer of the Day: Almighty God, you have filled all the earth with the light of your incarnate Word. By your grace empower us to reflect your light in all that we do, through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.

“And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth.” John 1:14.

This has been a good Christmas for my family. All of us have remained healthy and Covid free thus far. All of us are retired or able to work from home and so spared from the anxiety faced by so many who are either out of work or working under conditions that expose them daily to infection. Though we have remained separated from one another, we are in touch by way of Facetime, Zoom and constant texts. Still, I miss having bodily contact. Sure, I can tell stories and joke with my grandkids during video chats. But that is no substitute for their warm bodies snuggling up to me as I read to them from an old fashioned book. Or, as the poet Marion Strobel says, “singing on my beast/ warm as a colored light,/ your head is at rest.”

Christmas this year has made me painfully aware of how bodily our faith is. No one knew this as well as Martin Luther. One story has it that, when Luther sat down to debate the theology of the Lord’s Supper with fellow reformer, Ulrich Zwingli, he wrote in chalk on the table in front of him “this is my body.” So determined was Luther not to betray this central affirmation: the bread and wine in the Lord’s supper does not merely symbolize but is the Body and blood of Christ. So, too, when Saint Paul refers to the church as the “Body of Christ,” he is not speaking metaphorically. For Paul, the church, with all its faults, is the resurrected Christ in and for the world.

There is no spirit/body dualism in biblical Christianity. While we might distinguish between body and spirit or soul and body, the two can never be separated. Just as a body without a soul is only a corpse, so, too, a soul without a body is a mere phantom. We confess in our creeds, not that the soul somehow survives death, but that God raises the body, soul and whatever other part of us there might be from death. Salvation through Jesus Christ is not a purely spiritual measure designed to “save souls.” It is a life and death struggle for the whole cosmos in which Jesus invites us to participate here and now in our present bodily existence, assuring us that the outcome will be a new creation in which we will also participate bodily-whatever that might mean.

Aside from the gospel witnesses, I don’t think there is a narrative better illustrating the mystery of Incarnation than one particular incident related by author and Holocaust survivor, Elie Wiesel, in his book, Night. This short book is an autobiographical account of his incarceration at the Buna concentration camp. There Wiesel relates a story about the gruesome hanging of a young boy by the SS guards. He and all the other prisoners were marched out into the commons to witness this event. As the child hung, struggling for some time in the noose, someone near Wiesel kept muttering, “Where is God?” Wiesel tells of how a voice within him answered, “Where is He? Here he is-he is hanging here on the gallows.” Wiesel, Elie, Night, (c. 1958 by Les Editions De Minuit; pub. by The Hearst Corporation, New York, NY) p. 74-76. Though not a Christian, Elie Wiesel comes much closer to understanding incarnational theology than a good many of us who are!

The Incarnation, it must be understood, was not God’s temporary foray into human affairs. The Word both became and continues to be flesh. The stench of God’s flesh rises up from the ovens of Auschwitz; it is scarred by the lash of the whip; it is starved and frozen just across our southern border; it struggles for one last breath under the knee of a cop; it fights for one more moment of life on a ventilator. When John tells us that the Word became flesh, he is telling us that the glory and grace of God cannot be seen apart from the crucified Jesus who, even when raised from the dead, still bears the scars of torture. God cannot be blasphemed by the desecration of any temple save the temple of the human body, the flesh made sacred by God’s indwelling.

It should further be understood that the Incarnation was not an unpleasant duty that the Word underwent as a result of our sinfulness. According to John’s gospel, the Word’s becoming flesh was God’s intent from the beginning. The cross was the price God paid for following through with that intent, notwithstanding our sinfulness. In Jesus, God becomes human-more human than any of us have ever been. In so doing, God exposes both God’s dogged determination to “form the mind of Christ” within the human family and the depth of human resistance to God’s merciful intent.

This second Sunday of Christmas is a good time to double down on the miracle of the Incarnation. With the manger set back up in the attic, the Christmas tree out on the curb and the toys broken, out of batteries or their novelty spent, we are no longer competing with the sentimental overtones of the holiday season. With Santa in the rear view mirror and some very dark and frightening months ahead, we could use a Christmas story that enters into our anxious and stormy lives-and stays there. That good news is Emmanuel, God with us. Not just for the holidays, but always.

Here is the poem by Marion Strobel quoted above.

On Christmas

Often, on Christmas,
I listen to a chant
Float from a colored window
Softly sibilant.

Often, on Christmas,
I wait until a glow
From a colored pane of glass
Slides across the snow.

Yet though I hear songs,
And listen from without,
I never quite know what
Christmas is about.

In never quite know-
Till, singing on my breast
And warm as a colored light,
Your head is at rest.

Source: Poetry Vol. XXV, No. 111 (December 1924). Marion Strobel (1895-1967) was a poet, fiction, writer, critic and editor. In 1922 she married dermatologist James Herbert Mitchell and settled with him in Chicago. The couple had two daughters, including abstract expressionist painter Joan Mitchell. Strobel was an associate editor of Poetry from 1920 to 1925 and from 1940-1949. She published two collections of poetry in the 1920s and published five novels in the 1930s and 1940s. Strobel established the Harriet Monroe Poetry Prize in memory of the Poetry founder in 1936. You can read more about Marion Strobel at the Poetry Foundation website.

Kierkegaard’s Ghost

(News that’s fake, but credible)

It appears that, at long last, President Trump is prepared to concede the 2020 election to President Elect Joe Biden. The Ghost recently obtained what appears to be a draft of the president’s concession statement  from an employee of the Mara Lago resort where the president is currently staying. Our source, who prefers to remain anonymous, told us that the document evidently fell off the president’s golf cart. The text is as follows:

I, Donald J. Trump, hereby conceed the 2020 elexion to Joe Biden. Melania made me say it. I didn’t reely lose. It was a stupid elexion and Joe won because he cheeted. Joe and his cruked son Hunter snuck in with loser Hugo Chavez and made all the voting mashines in the swing states say Biden and not Trump. I wud still be president exept Mich McConnill and all the other republican seneters terned agest me and sed Joe was president when they shud have sed it was me. Even Mike Pence is terning agenst me. My family turned agenst me. Only Sidney Powell and Mike Flynn still luv me. Everybody else hates me. I hate them too and I wont forget how mean they were to me.

Everyone was mean to me. I win a landslide against Hilary and everybody says oh Trump cheeted with Rusha. Then they told Robert Muler to invsto investa envest luk into me. He said mean things and untrue things about me. Then I made a perfekt fone call, a butiful fone call. And even tho it was a perfekt and butiful fone call, I got impeeched for it. That was very unfair. Adam Shiff and Nansy Pilosi were mean to me, but then the senate acwited me. They said I cud still be president. They acted like they were my frends.

But they were not reely my frends. Now they are saying Joe Biden won the elexion-even tho he cheeted and even tho millions of peeple know I won. After all I did for them they are treeting me very bad. Ever sinse I was president everyone is mean to me. They call me names. They make fun of my hair and my ties. They don’t give me muny for my border wall. The supreem cort keeps on telling me I cant do anything even tho I am president and the boss of them. They dont lisen to my loyers and their butiful, perfekt lawsutes. Even tho I gave them their jobs they dont help me. They just say go away Donald. Joe Biden won.

Joe Biden Joe Biden Joe Biden. Everything is Joe Biden. Everybody luvs Joe Biden. But did he bild a butiful border wall? Did he make a perfekt fone call? Did he yell at the sientists and make them hurry up and make a vaxine for covid 19 even tho it was a stupid hox like the rushan hox? No. He didn’t. But I did. But nobody says thank you. No nobody says you did a good job. They just keep saying oh Donald is bad, bad, bad. I do all wunderful things for America. But America says go away Donald. We want Joe Biden not you.

I am tired of being president of this stupid cuntry that is mean to me and never does what I say. I was a grate president. The gratest president sinse Aberham Linkon. Maybe even grater then him. But the press and the democrats and the liberals just make up lies and say I am bad. And the repubikans tern their bak on me and wont stik up for me when I won the elexion. America wont stik up for me. So I wont stik up for you either. I am going to florida to play golf and I dont care what happens to this stupid cuntry anymore. I wont let you have any releef from Covid or any muny to pay your soljers or any muny to run your stupid goverment. I hate all you stupid people. Poop and buggars on you.

Your president (even tho you say I am not)

Donald J. Trump      P.S. This is You:

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

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

Hey you in the MAGA hat. I saw you on the news the other night standing in line before the entrance to a hospital emergency room somewhere deep down in Trumpland. You had your four year-old little girl with you. She was having a lot of trouble breathing, wheezing badly. You had been waiting in that line a long time. Lot’s of space and medical attention was being taken up by Covid-19 victims. Your state was a little late with masks and social distancing. So were most other states. But what can you expect when your president insists that this pandemic will simply go away if you just ignore it? Anyway, I just wanted to wish you a merry Christmas and say that I hope everything worked out for you and your girl.

I mean that, though I happen to be one of those Biden voters that make you crazy. Now that might surprise you. If anyone should be a supporter of Donald Trump, it’s me. I’m an old white guy who has had a successful professional career ending in a relatively early retirement. I could do that because I had a healthy retirement savings account and a few investments that, I am happy to say, have done phenomenally under Donald Trump. I have always had great medical insurance through my own and my wife’s employers, so it matters not a fig to me whether Obamacare is gutted by the legislature, voted out of existence or struck down by the Supreme Court. Donald Trump has gotten rid of environmental, safety and regulatory rules allowing the corporate world to do pretty much whatever it wants. That, in turn, produced a strong stock market, all to my benefit. So, if I were to vote my pocketbook, I’d be wearing a MAGA hat like you.

But I voted for Joe Biden instead. Why, you ask, would I do that? Don’t I understand that he will raise my taxes? Yes, I understand that my taxes probably will go up under the incoming Democratic administration. Still, I voted Democratic. I did it because I care about you and your little girl. Guess that makes me what you would call a “bleeding heart.” Oh well. I’ve been called worse. And yes, my heart did bleed as I watched you standing in the cold, holding your daughter’s hand and looking anxiously toward the hospital entrance. I voted for Biden because he favors raising the federal minimum wage, expanding Obamacare, strengthening regulations on the banking and investment industries, making pre-K education universally available and making college accessible for the children of ordinary working people-like your daughter. Believe it or not, I want an economy that works for all of us and not just for me. My American dream is a country where nobody has to stand in line waiting for their sick child to receive emergency medical care and wondering if they will get it in time. If that means I have to pay more taxes, so be it.

I know, I know. All of this sounds like socialism to you. But let me ask you this: how many of us old guys who get Social Security on top of our more than adequate retirements are agitating to overturn that “socialist” program? Why is providing government sponsored Medicare benefits to old guys like me not socialism while providing medical benefits to your daughter is? Why is it that huge subsidies and tax breaks for the gas, oil and coal industries is not socialism, but government financing of health care for children is? Why is it socialism when our government extends your unemployment benefits a few weeks so that you can put food on your table, but “incentive” when a state gives tax free status to companies agreeing to locate their businesses within their borders? Why are there perfectly legal “tax avoidance” rules allowing billionaires, such as Donald Trump, to pay nothing in taxes that are unavailable to you? Truth is, government benefits are “socialism” and “entitlements” only when they meet the needs of people like you.

I’ll let you in on a little secret: terms like socialism and communism-they’re like the F word. They don’t really mean anything. They are political cuss words people like me use to shame you away from demanding for your little girl the same educational opportunities, access to good health care and affordable housing that my children have always enjoyed. We keep telling you that “a rising tide lifts all boats” and that if you are just patient and work hard, all those benefits we keep giving to the top 1% will come trickling down to you. We have been promising that since the 1980s. How much longer are you going to wait for it to come true? How long will it take for you to figure out that every time you give liberals the finger, you just poke yourself in the eye?

In a way, I can understand your attraction to Donald Trump. His railing against a government that doesn’t care about you and your family strikes a chord. You look around at your dying town, your empty factory buildings and struggling farms that continue to languish even as the stock market soars-and it makes you mad as hell. You have a right to be. Trouble is, you are mad at all the wrong people for all the wrong reasons. Immigrants, minorities, gay and lesbian people-they didn’t take your jobs away, kill your town or shut down your local hospitals. Capitalism did that. The companies that employed your community found they could get things made cheeper overseas by people who were willing to work longer hours for less. That is what capitalism is all about-making things cheeper and more efficiently to increase profit margines. And if that means your community gets left flat in the dust, too bad. The market has spoken.

The confidence you put in Donald Trump and the Republican party has been cruelly betrayed. Ask yourself, how much has Donald Trump really done for you? He promised a “wonderful health care program” to replace Obamacare. Well, he did all he could to gut Obamacare. But that “wonderful health care program?” If he had kept his promise on that score, you wouldn’t have been standing in that line. Donald Trump inherited a growing economy and promised to make it even better. And he did-for people like me. But what about you? When was the last time you saw a raise? Do you even have a job at this point? And what about your little girl? Do you think Donald Trump gives a rat’s petunia whether she ever gets the treatment she needs? Fat chance. He’s out on the golf course now, even as more Americans like you are dying each day than died on September 11, 2001. That’s how little you and your daughter mean to Donald Trump. The sad truth is that you’ve been had; hoodwinked; bamboozled; taken to the cleaners.

Donald Trump will soon be history. But you can be sure that the politics of anger, resentment and selfishness that put you in that long line of people in front of the hospital will live long after him in the new Republican party he made. I hope you can see through all of that. I hope you will come to understand that supporting the party of the 1% only keeps you at the bottom of the other 99%. I hope your love for your little girl and your desire to give her a better future prove stronger than your hatred of us “liberals,” immigrants, minorities and everyone else you blame for ruining your life. I hope you will finally figure out that I’m not your enemy and work with me for the kind of country I think we both want. Not that it should make any difference to me. I am well enough off and I will do just fine under the Republicans. But for the sake of your little girl, I am willing to be a little less well off. Donald Trump and his Republican supporters might call that socialism. But where I come from, it’s just called being a good neighbor.

Anyway, here’s wishing you a merry Christmas and a better new year. Give your little girl a hug for me.

Bleeding Heart Liberal.

FIRST SUNDAY OF CHRISTMAS

Isaiah 61:10-62:3
Psalm 148
Galatians 4:4-7
Luke 2:22-40

Prayer of the Day: Almighty God, you wonderfully created the dignity of human nature and yet more wonderfully restored it. In your mercy, let us share the divine life of the one who came to share our humanity, Jesus Christ, your Son, our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.

“This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed—and a sword will pierce your own soul too.” Luke 2:34-35.

I was only nine or ten at the height of the civil rights movement in the 1960s and only vaguely aware of what it was all about. After all, I was growing up in Bremerton, Washington. That is a long way from Selma, Alabama. Unlike those backwards southerners, we had no Jim Crow laws, no segregated schools and we got on just fine with people of color-or so we thought. Ours was a fully integrated and enlightened town without a hint of racism.

But as Martin Luther King, Jr. started to make headlines, I began to see another side of our community. There was much discussion about King among the adults in my home, church and neighborhood. “He’s got some good points, but he has to tone it down,” said some. “Discrimination down south is a terrible thing,” said others. “But King is pushing for too much change too fast. He’s only making things worse for his own people.” Our pastor expressed the view that, while segregation is clearly unjust, no Christian, much less a pastor, should be breaking the law in order address it. “One unjust act cannot justify another.” Some in our community were awakened for the first time to the depth of racial injustice in our midst and spoke out boldly in defense of Dr. King. Others spoke of him in disparaging terms it would serve no purpose to repeat. Suffice to say that Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was in our community “a sign that [was] opposed so that the inner thoughts of many [were] revealed.”

Being a “sign” is a hazardous occupation. For both Jesus and Dr. King it ended with a violent death. And there was collateral damage also. As Simeon foretold, the sword of grief did indeed pierce the heart of Mary, Mother of our Lord. So also, I am sure, it pierced the soul of Coretta Scott King. We cannot allow the terrible cost of the Incarnation to get lost in the sentimentality that so often surrounds our celebration of the Nativity. The song of the angels, the wonder of the shepherds and the worship of the magi bear witness to the marvelous sign of God’s generosity in the birth of this child, Jesus. But so also does the gut wrenching cry of Rachel weeping for her children. Matthew 2:16-18.

The naked truth is that the best God had to give, God’s very self, is destined to be rejected cruelly by each of us in our own way. If we can find the courage to enter into the divine drama of Jesus’ obedient life and faithful death, our inner thoughts will surely be revealed. If we are honest, we will find ourselves with the crowds that came to Jesus for what he could give them with no thought of following him. We will find ourselves among the disciples who are consumed with rivalry, self promotion and power, but often show little interest or understanding of the reign of God Jesus proclaims. We will find ourselves among those who feared that Jesus was a dangerous and destabilizing influence and among those who would silence him when he challenges our grip on power and privilege. A prophetic sign lances a boil, revealing sickness of which we are unaware. It is painful and unpleasant, but essential for healing.

Over this last year we have encountered many signs that have “revealed the inner thoughts of many.” They have names like George Floyd, Brianna Taylor and Ahmaud Arbery. Let me say from the outset that there is nothing good, nothing redemptive, nothing meaningful in the senseless murders of these innocents. Nevertheless, if we can view them through the prism of the sign that is Mary’s child, they can become for us signs that lay bare our wounded souls, the prejudice holding us in bondage and the grievous injuries they inflict on our neighbors. That, in itself, is not the healing and reconciliation for which God yearns. But it is a necessary first step. And, of course, we have to begin somewhere.

Here is an anonymous poem reflecting Mary’s realization of the sign that will be her son’s destiny and the “sword” that will one day pierce her through.

Jesus Comforts His Mother

FOURTH SUNDAY OF ADVENT

2 Samuel 7:1-11, 16
Luke 1:46b-55 or Psalm 89:1-4, 19-26
Romans 16:25-27
Luke 1:26-38

Prayer of the Day: Stir up your power, Lord Christ, and come. With your abundant grace and might, free us from the sin that would obstruct your mercy, that willingly we may bear your redeeming love to all the world, for you live and reign with the Father and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.

“Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And now, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son…” Luke 1:30.

Nothing is quite so disruptive as pregnancy. The news that you are about to be a parent alters your outlook on the future, reshapes your expectations and forces you to re-evaluate the direction of your life. The baby’s arrival wreaks havoc on life. For first time parents, gone are the days when you can decide serendipitously after arriving home from work to grab a pizza and go out to see the new movie everyone is talking about. Your social life changes. You find you can no longer keep up with your childless friends and the activities you shared with them. Those boring individuals who used to make your eyes roll with their fixation on Legos, play dates and where to get the best deal on Pampers are suddenly your new best friends. For established families, a new baby upsets the existing constellation of familial relationships, depriving older siblings of attention, changing sleeping arrangements and aggravating further sibling rivalry. And this is all under optimal conditions when a pregnancy is welcome and expected. Where, as in our gospel lesson, pregnancy is unplanned and unanticipated, its disruptive effects are multiplied exponentially.

Mary is not unaware of the disruption her pregnancy has unleashed, disruption that goes far beyond her and her family. In our psalmody from Luke’s gospel she sings:

“[God] has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly;
he has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty.
He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy,
according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
to Abraham and to his descendants forever.” Luke 1:51-55.

At Jesus’ circumcision, the prophet Simeon tells Mary that “This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed—and a sword will pierce your own soul too.” Luke 2:34-35. Mary is very much aware, as is the poet Yehuda Amichai, that a child-her child-is “a missile into the coming generations.” Like the poet, she “trembles” with wonder at what she has launched into the world.

It has always struck me as ironic that this story, which for Mary, for Israel and the world is so very jarring and disruptive, has managed to weave itself into a holiday so steeped in tradition and sameness. Nothing is as rock solid and resistant to change as Christmas. Every pastor knows that the annual Christmas Candle Light Service is not the place to introduce new hymns and experiment with novel liturgical forms. Every nominally Christian family has its own traditions and practices for celebrating Christmas without which “it just isn’t Christmas.”  Those traditions might be overtly religious, secular or a mix of both. But whatever they are, they constitute a set of cherished expectations we have come to take for granted. Whatever else might be changing in the world around us, Christmas is still Christmas.

Of course, I hardly need to tell you that this year of pandemic is different. It has disrupted so many aspects of our lives, not the least of which is the way we celebrate holidays like Christmas. Sesle and I were not together with our children and grandchildren for Thanksgiving and will not be together with them for Christmas either. We will not be celebrating the Eucharist on Christmas or anytime in the near future. Our town’s community Christmas tree lighting celebration will not be happening this year, nor will many other cultural and religious public events. All of our expectations have been shattered, our routines have been disrupted. We are feeling our way into an uncertain future-much as Mary must have been upon learning that, unmarried though she was, she was about to bear a child.

So perhaps this will be the most Christmas like Christmas we have ever experienced. Maybe God is brewing something holy and redemptively disruptive in the midst of all this darkness and uncertainty. Maybe we are finding ourselves in a place where we can finally hear the story of the Nativity. Perhaps we are finally positioned to encounter the terrible, fearful and wonderful miracle of the Incarnation, God’s missile of healing launched into a wounded and hurting world. That is bound to disrupt our established ways of thinking and acting. But, of course, that is the whole point.

Here is the poem by Yehuda Amichai I cited above.

A Child is Something Else Again

A child is something else again. Wakes up
in the afternoon and in an instant he’s full of words,
in an instant he’s humming, in an instant warm,
instant light, instant darkness.

A child is Job. They’ve already placed their bets on him
but he doesn’t know it. He scratches his body
for pleasure. Nothing hurts yet.
They’re training him to be a polite Job,
to say “Thank you” when the Lord has given,
to say “You’re welcome” when the Lord has taken away.

A child is vengeance.
A child is a missile into the coming generations.
I launched him: I’m still trembling.

A child is something else again: on a rainy spring day
glimpsing the Garden of Eden through the fence,
kissing him in his sleep,
hearing footsteps in the wet pine needles.
A child delivers you from death.
Child, Garden, Rain, Fate.

Source: The Poetry of Yehuda Amichai. (c. 2015 by Yehuda Amichai, Translated By Chana Bloch and published by Farrar, Strauss & Giroux). Yehuda Amichai is one of Israel’s most prominent poets. He was born in Germany in 1924 but left with his family for Palestine in 1935. He fought in the 1948 Arab/Israeli war. His poems have been translated into English, French, German and Swedish. You can read more about Amichai and his poetry on the Poetry Foundation Website.

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.”

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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