SEVENTH SUNDAY OF EASTER

Acts 16:16-34

Psalm 97

Revelation 22:12-14, 16-17, 20-21

John 17:20-26

Prayer of the Day: O God, form the minds of your faithful people into your one will. Make us love what you command and desire what you promise, that, amid all the changes of this world, our hearts may be fixed where true joy is found, your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.

“I ask not only on behalf of these but also on behalf of those who believe in me through their word, that they may all be one. As you, Father, are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me.” John 17:20-21.

Unity is not the highest virtue. If it were, criminal gangs, lynch mobs and authoritarian regimes would be the most virtuous of communities. As the great preacher and theologian Augustine of Hippo teaches us, communities, like individuals, are shaped by what they love. Our humanity is rightly shaped and formed when we “love what [God] command[s] and desire what [God] promise[s].” Disciples of Jesus love the reign of God which Jesus lived under obediently, died for faithfully and was raised to vindicate. For them, the Sermon on the Mount is not an unattainable ideal to be admired, but the pattern of God’s reign Jesus actually lived in the midst of a world hostile to it. Contrary to what the prosperity gospel and the positive thinking philosophy permeating our culture teaches us, the trajectory of faith in Jesus and love for God’s reign leads invariably to the cross. Just as Jesus was sent by the Father into the world to reveal a radically new way of being human, so the church formed and shaped by its relationship to Jesus is to be a sign, symbol and a witness to this new humanity God is forming in the midst and for the sake of that world.

We are what we love. We are shaped by your loyalties. We become what we admire. We are driven by that for which we hope. I have often been asked by members of the congregations I have served how I relate to people of faiths other than Christianity, how I minister to agnostics and how I respond to people who express hostility to all religion. I tend to avoid discussions about whose religion is superior, whether God exists and why religion deserves respect. Such arguments seldom go anywhere useful. Instead, I ask questions I would ask of anyone else. What do you believe to be true? What do you find beautiful? What is your understanding of what is good? Dialogue along these lines often produces some unexpected results. I discover allies among those who would seem to adversaries. Sadly, I also find within the very Body of Christ people who despise the reign of God Christ proclaims. I find friends who worship the God I worship under different names and people who worship Christ with their lips yet believe in an angry, spiteful and vengeful God I do not recognize. I find atheists who pursue I what I recognize as God’s reign and Christians who resist it. As Jesus tells us, he has many sheep that are not within his fold. John 10:16. Conversely, there are people within the very inner circle of the church who are deeply hostile to Jesus and God’s reign. John 6:70-71.

It should be clear that Jesus’ prayer for oneness is not simply a matter of healing schisms within the church, as important as that task surely is. Oneness for the Body of Christ is not an end in itself. The oneness manifested in the church is to be a witness to the world of the oneness God desires for the whole human family. Diversity, equity and inclusion are unwelcome in the United States today. They were unwelcome in Nazi Germany, fascist Italy and many other historically authoritarian regimes as well. Nonetheless DEI is the hallmark of God’s future reign. For all who feel that their political ox has just been gored, too bad. Find yourself another politics or another savior. Oneness is God’s ultimate goal for creation, but that does not mean God’s reign embraces everything including the kitchen sink. As John of Patmos reminds us in our lesson for this Sunday, “nothing accursed” will be allowed to remain under God’s just and gentle reign. Revelation 22:3. “Outside are the dogs and sorcerers and sexually immoral and murderers and idolaters and everyone who loves and practices falsehood.”[1]  We do well to contemplate what in our corporate and individual lives must be excised in order for God’s will to be done on earth as in heaven. There is clearly no room for the exclusionary ideologies and practices of nationalism, white supremacy and sexism.  

To be sure, the shape of God’s future reign beyond even death and the grave is a mystery. Jesus spoke about it only in parables. The Apostle John could say of our redeemed selves in the age to come only that “it does not yet appear what we shall be,” but that “we shall be like [Christ] for we shall see him as he is.” I John 3:2. Throughout the Easter season, the lectionary texts from Revelation have been presenting us with visions of God’s reign that outlasts, overcomes and swallows up forever the beastly nations and kingdoms that are the “destroyers of the earth.” Revelation 17:17-18. Throughout this visionary saga, John emphasizes that the reign of God includes all nations, tribes, tongues and peoples. See, e.g., Revelation 6:9-12; Revelation 15:3-4; Revelation 22:1-2. In other words, God’s future is marked by diversity, equity and inclusion.[2] Unity based on anything less is demonic.

Where is the good news in this? John of Patmos would tell us the good news is that the powers of segregation, inequality and exclusion are destined to fall. The segregationists, the wall builders, the border sealers, the America first enthusiasts, the English only proponents are all on the wrong side of history. Their ideologies, politics and programs have no place in God’s future. That obviously is not good news for those caught up in these “principalities,” “powers” and “the world rulers of this present darkness.” Ephesians 6:12. But sometimes the good news needs to be heard as bad news before it can be received as good. Understanding that the persons caught up in the darkness of racism, sexism and xenophobia are not our enemies but victims in need of liberation, the kindest thing we can do for them is to shine the light of truth into their darkness. They need to know that the god they worship is not God. The nationalistic and racist causes in which they are caught up are not holy. The things they love are not true, beautiful or good. The future they long for will never come.

That, however, is the easier part. The more difficult task is proclaiming the better hope of God’s reign in Jesus Christ. That requires more than preaching. As John the Evangelist points out, the world will know God’s love for it and commitment to it by the example of the community of his disciples whose love is to showcase the new way of being human. “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples,” says Jesus. “If you have love for one another.” John 13:35. Jesus calls for communities that love the reign of God as deeply as he does. He calls for communities that harbor the same limitless love for the world as the Father who sent him. Jesus would have his disciples insist upon a future that embraces all people. Any future that excludes, rejects and ignores anyone is too small for them. For the world to receive this good news, it must see it in action. That is the twofold command of Jesus to his church: 1) to be a community governed by mutual love; and 2) to be a community that carries that love into the world for which he was sent. But the fulfilment of that command is not an achievement. It is a gift. That gift is received through participating in a community formed by hearing the gospels read and preached. It is learned by example from persons who practice the art of caring for the sick, feeding the hungry, sheltering the homeless and standing up to speak truth to power on behalf of the oppressed. In such communities, the reign of God takes shape, however imperfectly. It is, in the words of poet Wendell Berry, the “shaped knowledge” in the minds of those who love each other which teaches us to yearn for the kingdom’s coming in all its fullness.      

The Handing Down

I. The conversation

Two minds

Source: Poetry (April-May, 1965). Wendell Berry (b. 1934) is a poet, novelist, farmer and environmental activist. He is an elected member of the Fellowship of Southern Writers, a recipient of The National Humanities Medal and the Jefferson Lecturer for 2012. He is also a 2013 Fellow of The American Academy of Arts and Sciences. Berry was named the recipient of the 2013 Richard C. Holbrooke Distinguished Achievement Award. On January 28, 2015, he became the first living writer to be inducted into the Kentucky Writers Hall of Fame. You can read more about Wendell Berry and sample more of his works at the Poetry Foundation website.

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[1] This verse has been edited out of the lectionary reading. As most of you who follow me already know, I do not favor redacting biblical texts except in some very limited circumstances. Doing so insults the intelligence of the listening assembly and often distorts the hard realities addressed by the biblical writers. In this particular case, I can understand why the lectionary makers would censor this passage. The last thing we would want to do is suggest that there is a red line between the “saved” and the irredeemably “lost.” Yet the fact remains that there is much in our lives that is inconsistent with God’s reign. My inbred racial prejudices, the grudges I hold, my resentments and petty jealousies to which I cling make it impossible for me to live joyfully, peacefully and obediently under God’s reign. Judgement consists in my having to come to grips with the days of my life I have wasted on destructive thoughts, actions and striving for what, in the end, does not matter. Nevertheless, grace abounds in the assurance that God has claimed me as God’s own and will save, redeem and make new everything that can be rescued and woven into the fabric of the new creation.   

[2] I suspect that I may be accused of “weaponizing” the texts by employing such politically charged language as “DEI.” My answer is that diversity, equity and inclusion are words that have been employed for decades by civil rights organizations and churches to counter our society’s systemic racism, inequity and exclusion. As the Lutheran World Federation stated long before DEI became a Republican battle cry, “Dignity and justice, respect for diversity, as well as inclusion and participation are core values of The Lutheran World Federation. The global Lutheran communion, together with ecumenical, interreligious and civil society partners, actively engages in reflection and action to overcome manifold forms of injustice and exclusion.”  Resisting Exclusion: Global Theological Responses to Populism, (pub. by Evangelische Verlangsanstalt GmbH, Leipzig, Germany, under the auspices of The Lutheran World Federation). The words “diversity,” “equity” and “inclusion” have been pivotal in our theological discourse for decades and they accurately convey the reign of God announced by Jesus and proclaimed throughout the New Testament. I will not abandon them merely because a government playing on the racist paranoia of an angry and ignorant mob decided to turn them into their phony political straw boggy man. Nor am I concerned about who they offend. In the words of the dear leader’s favorite song, “I won’t back down.”       

SIXTH SUNDAY OF EASTER

Acts 16:9-15

Psalm 67

Revelation 21:10, 22—22:5

John 14:23-29 or John 5:1-9

Prayer of the Day: Bountiful God, you gather your people into your realm, and you promise us food from your tree of life. Nourish us with your word, that empowered by your Spirit we may love one another and 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.

“….the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, will teach you everything and remind you of all that I have said to you.” John 14:26.

In Sunday’s lesson Jesus delivers a final address to his disciples before his arrest and execution. The clear implication of his promise that the Holy Spirit will teach his disciples everything is that they do not know everything yet. They will spend a lifetime struggling to understand the meaning of what they are about to witness. That is the story of the church. Like the disciples, we frequently get Jesus wrong. Like some of Jesus opponents, we “search the scriptures” thinking that following its doctrines, teachings and rituals will lead us to salvation. We have often used the Bible as a weapon to shame, blame and exclude the sheep Jesus would bring into his fold. We forget that the command to love God and the neighbor is the one through which the law and the prophets must always be interpreted. That is why we need the Holy Spirit. The Spirit teaches us what we have failed to learn and reminds us of the important things we tend to forget.

If everything we needed to know were clearly expressed in the Bible, there would be no need for the Holy Spirit. The church could simply remain on autopilot until the end of time. But the Bible is not that sort of book. Like a complex ecosystem, it is a rich and varied literary work woven together from the preaching, storytelling, prayers, visions and reflections of people living under all manner of different cultural, political and religious circumstances. Just as complex and varied as the scriptures are the ever changing circumstances in which human beings find themselves as we travel through time from one generation to the next. Yet the church believes that, throughout our human journey, God continues to speak to us through these ancient texts. The Spirit of God still surprises us with new insights into our modern world seen through the lens of scripture as it is preached and lived by disciples of Jesus in each new era.

Not everyone is comfortable with a church on the move. A lot of us would like a solid institution with fixed rituals and unchanging doctrines. There are times, I admit, when I long for the church of my childhood. There are days when I would love to take shelter in a place that is immune from change, filled with static icons and permeated with familiar hymns. I frequently crave a place that is peaceful, safe and predictable. Unfortunately for me, and for everyone else looking for peace, safety and predictability, the church is not such a place. The Book of Acts shows us a church that is constantly growing, changing and being transformed. Perhaps the title “Acts of the Apostles” is a misnomer. The book might better be entitled “Acts of the Holy Spirit.” Rather than leading the church, the apostles seem to be frantically trying to keep up with the Holy Spirt who has her own ideas about what the church is and where it is going.

I can sympathize with the many people who have said to me over the last decade in response to our enlarged understanding of human sexuality, our increased focus on issues of justice and peace and the diversification of our hymns and liturgy, “Pastor, I feel as though my church has left me behind.” I get that. But here is the thing. This is not “my” church. It is the church of Jesus Christ. I have no right to tell Jesus to keep the church where it is or make it over to my liking. The church does not exist to serve my needs. It exists to witness in word and deed to God’s gentle reign of justice and peace addressed to our planet and inaugurated by the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. To do that for a world that is forever evolving and changing, the church must be flexible, open to transformation and ready for renewal.  

Of course, there are risks involved with change. As I said, the church frequently gets Jesus wrong. I hardly need to catalogue all the instances in which the church has distorted, misrepresented and suppressed the gospel of Jesus Christ. “Though with a scornful wonder, this world sees her oppressed; with schisms rent asunder and heresy’s distressed” as the popular hymn goes.[1] The virus of heresy is an ever present danger to a living body like the church. Yet it is important to recognize that heresy is not transmitted exclusively by novelty. Most often, I believe, heresy consists in traditional teachings and understandings that have been retained long after time, knowledge and deeper reflection have proven them to be erroneous. Last Sunday’s lesson from Acts revealed to us how Saint Peter’s view of God’s salvation as limited to Israel had to be abandoned to accommodate the new found faith of the gentile, Cornelius, and the outpouring of God’s Spirit on his household. Similarly, I believe that, through the faithfulness and persistent witness of LGBTQ+ folk, the church is beginning to recognize that our teachings on human sexuality have distorted the gospel and placed a stumbling block in the way of people hearing the call of Jesus and the pull of the Holy Spirit into the communion of saints.

In our creeds, we confess belief in the holy catholic church. On its face, that seems odd. It is obvious why faith is required to believe that God created heaven and earth, that Jesus was incarnate and born of the virgin Mary and that God raised him from death. But you hardly need faith to believe in the church. You can love the church or hate it, but you cannot deny that it exists. There is more, however, to the creedal declaration than that the church exists. We also confess that it is “one, holy, catholic and apostolic.” Viewing the church in all its schismatic permutations and institutional corruption, you would never guess that the Holy Spirit is at work in this mess striving to unite the disciples of Jesus into one Body. It is not always evident through the church’s witness that the depth of God’s love for the world is revealed in the cross of Christ or that God’s determination to redeem it is demonstrated in Christ’s resurrection. But faith maintains that the Spirit is indeed at work in this very messy, very sinful and very divided church to accomplish God’s redemptive purpose for the world. That is why the old hymn continues, “Yet she on earth has union with God, the Three in One, and mystic sweet communion with those whose rest is won.”[i]

The church in which I grew up was not the same as the church of the New Testament. The church of today is not the same as the church in which I grew up. I fully expect that the church of tomorrow will not be the same as the church we know today. I cannot predict what the church of the future will look like. I am confident, however, that the Spirit will continue to be in the church, sometimes encouraging it, sometimes rebuking it, sometimes calling it back from error, sometimes enlightening it with new insights and always keeping it tethered to its Lord and the reign of God for which he lived, died, rose again and continues to live.

Here is a poem about the continuity of the church owing to the guidance of the Holy Spirit.

The Communion of Saints

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[1] “The Church’s is One Foundation,” Evangelical Lutheran Worship Hymn # 654(c. 2006 by Evangelical Lutheran Church in America; pub. by Augsburg Fortress) Lyrics by Sammuel J. Stone; music by Sammuel S. Wesley.

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[i] Ibid.

FIFTH SUNDAY OF EASTER

Acts 11:1-18

Psalm 148

Revelation 21:1-6

John 13:31-35

Prayer of the Day: O Lord God, you teach us that without love, our actions gain nothing. Pour into our hearts your most excellent gift of love, that, made alive by your Spirit, we may know goodness and peace, through your Son, Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.

“I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” John 13:34-35.

At this moment, Russian Orthodox Christians and Ukrainian Christians, both of whom were baptized into Christ Jesus, the same Lord who gave them the commandment to love each other, are killing each other. The governing administration of the United States, most members of which flaunt their Christian identity, terrify our immigrant neighbors with arrest by masked goons, incarceration, deportation and family separation. Preachers like Franklin Graham, Paula White, Mark Burns gush about the love of Jesus out of one side of their mouths while preaching hate against gay, lesbian and transgender persons out of the other. Vile and amoral people like convicted criminal Roger Stone and disgraced Army Lt. Gen Michael Flynn cloak their racist and antidemocratic propaganda champaigns with a thin veneer of Christian window dressing. Looking at us, would you ever guess that we are disciples of the one who called us to love one another as he loved us, that is, to the point of giving his life? Do we look even remotely like the community whose love for one another reflects the love God has for the world into which he sent the Son? Is it any wonder that the church has lost a truckload of credibility in recent years?

I know this is not the complete picture. I know that there are millions of Jesus’ disciples in all branches of the church catholic who are in so many ways seeking “to do justice, love kindness and walk humbly with God.” Unfortunately, though, the work of single individuals, the efforts of single congregations and even single denominations cannot carry the cross of faithful witness to the world or even be heard over the cacophony that is American Christianity. We need desperately to witness as one holy, catholic and apostolic church to Jesus and the reign of God for which he lived, died and continues to live.

My forty plus years of ministry have convinced me that most congregations are good at loving one another, caring for one another and meeting the needs of their own. Taking Jesus’ words in today’s gospel out of their narrative context might lead one to believe that this is enough. It is sufficient that a community of disciples care for its own and practice love within the confines of the church. Let us be honest, that alone is no easy task. The church is made up of people we would not necessarily choose as friends. Jesus, however, has chosen them. They are precious to him and so they must be to us as well. Our fellow disciples might not be people who are particularly easy to get on with. They might not even be people we like. Still, we are tasked with loving them. Living together as a caring community might seem like challenge enough.

But it’s not enough. In the first chapter of John’s gospel we read that Jesus is the “light that enlightens everyone.” John 1:9. John 3:16 declares that God loved the world so much that he sent the Son into the world to save it. Jesus announces that he is the light of the world. John 8:12. Jesus prays that his disciples be one, not for their own sake, but that “the world may believe” God sent him. John 17:21. The disciples are sent out into the world just as Jesus was sent to announce and bear witness to God’s redemptive mission of salvation for the world. John 20:21. Jesus calls his church to public ministry in a world which, though very much beloved by God, is nonetheless hostile to God’s gentle reign of justice and peace.

Sometimes it seems as though our public ministry conflicts with our efforts to promote a loving and harmonious congregational culture. Too many times pastors and congregational leaders sidestep opportunities for public support of immigrants facing deportation and family separation, support for LGBTQ+ persons facing increasing marginalization and violence, support for efforts to confront, name and oppose racism and discrimination, all in the interest of maintaining peace within the flock. I believe, however, that a vigorous public witness is also good pastoral medicine. Xenophobia, homophobia and racism are diseases of the soul. These spiritual contagions are as lethal to the hearts and minds of those infected as they are to the lives of those victimized by the harmful conduct they inspire. Leaders who bring their congregations into the arena of public discourse will, in addition to giving voice to the good news of Jesus to a troubled world, lance the spiritual boils afflicting their members and open the way to healing.

Of course, it is possible that the risk, scandal and public criticism resulting from public witness will offend and drive away some members of our churches. I strongly suspect that Peter’s baptism of the gentile Cornelius and his household recorded in our lesson from Acts drove some of the faithful out of the church. The inclusive reach of the gospel that recognizes no national border, is indifferent to citizenship, documentation, racial identity and sexual orientation is inherently threatening to sinful people like us, who seek shelter behind such humanly erected barriers. But the kind of love to which Jesus calls us is too big, too powerful and too broad to be confined within our own insular communities. The love to which Jesus calls us jumps the fences we build and unites us to our neighbors living on the other side. The church must not settle for anything less.

Here is a poem by priest, activist and poet Daniel Barrigan reflecting on the inclusive love of Jesus that “compels” all on the margins to come to him.

The Face of Christ  

The tragic beauty of the face of Christ
Shines in the face of man;

The abandoned old live on
in shabby rooms, far from comfort.
Outside,
din and purpose, the world, a fiery animal
reined in by youth. Within
a pallid tiring heart
shuffles about its dwelling.

Nothing, so little, comes of life’s promise.
0f broken men, despised minds
what does one make-
a roadside show, a graveyard of the heart?

Christ, fowler of street and hedgerow
cripples, the distempered old
-eyes blind as woodknots,
tongues tight as immigrants’-all
taken in His gospel net,
the hue and cry of existence.

Heaven, of such imperfection,
wary, ravaged, wild?

Yes. Compel them in.

Source: Selected & New Poems, (c. 1973 by Daniel Berrigan, pub. by Doubleday & Company, Inc.) p. 80. Daniel Berrigan was born May 9, 1921, in Virginia, Minnesota. He entered the Jesuit novitiate at St. Andrew-on-the-Hudson, New York in August 1939 and graduated in 1946. Thereafter, he entered the Jesuit’s Woodstock College in Baltimore graduating in 1952. He was ordained the same year and appointed professor of New Testament studies at Le Moyne College in Syracuse in 1957. Berrigan is remembered by most people for his anti-war activities during the Vietnam era. He spent two years in prison for destroying draft records, damaging nuclear warheads and leading other acts of civil disobedience. He also joined with other prominent religious figures like Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, the Rev. Richard John Neuhaus and the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. to found Clergy and Laity Against the War in Vietnam. In February of 1968 he traveled to North Vietnam and returned with three American prisoners of war he convinced the North Vietnamese to release. Berrigan died on April 30, 2016 of natural causes at a Jesuit health care facility in the Bronx. He was 94 years old.

FOURTH SUNDAY OF EASTER

Acts 9:36-43

Psalm 23

Revelation 7:9-17

John 10:22-30

Prayer of the Day: O God of peace, you brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus Christ, the great shepherd of the sheep. By the blood of your eternal covenant, make us complete in everything good that we may do your will, and work among us all that is well-pleasing in your sight, through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.

“After this I looked, and there was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, robed in white, with palm branches in their hands.” Revelation 7:9-10.

There are any number of ways to proclaim the Easter message through the lessons for this Sunday. God’s power over death is graphically illustrated in the raising of Tabatha through the ministry of Saint Peter. Of course, the twenty-third psalm opens up a portal into life’s journey through times of peace and plenty, threats from hostile forces and into the valley of shadow, accompanied always by the Shepherd whose faithfulness perseveres even in the face of death. In the gospel lesson, Jesus declares that God’s gift to Jesus’ sheep is eternal life and that no one can snatch those sheep out of his Father’s hand. Finally, the lesson from Revelation gives us a glimpse at God’s ultimate future in which all nations, tongues and peoples are united in joyful worship and praise. Though I think a preacher could go in any one or more of these angles, I am drawn this week to Revelation.

As I said last week, the Book of Revelation has been subject to some egregious hermeneutical malpractice throughout history. Rightly understood, John of Patmos’ visions provide hope and encouragement to seven struggling, marginalized and often persecuted communities of faith. They are not, as so many preachers of pre-millennial ilk contend, a jigsaw puzzle that, properly put together, will disclose how, when and under what circumstances the world will end. John writes to assure his churches that, small and insignificant as they might feel themselves to be, they are the first fruits of God’s new heaven and a new earth. It is not the predatory beasts representing imperial authority, wealth and power who prevail in the end. When all is said and done, the multitude “from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages” are found worshiping the Lamb who was slaughtered. The future belongs to worshipers of the Lamb, not those who pursue and rely upon raw imperial and economic power.

In a world where nationalism is on the rise and fascism is now mainline American politics, the message of Revelation is, as I said last week, more relevant and urgent than ever. In a political climate where the words, “America first” are on the lips of so many, the church needs to speak a firm and unequivocal “no.” America is not first in any sense whatsoever. The reign of God is first. Loyalty to the Lamb is first. One cannot recite the Pledge of Allegiance out of one side of the mouth while confessing the Apostles’ Creed out of the other. You either believe in one holy, catholic and apostolic church that relativizes all national, tribal, ethnic boundaries, or you put loyalty to these identities over and above your allegiance to Jesus and the reign of God he proclaims.

American believers, as I have often said before, generally lack the conceptual tools to distinguish between patriotism and faith. When John F. Kennedy addressed concerns about his Catholic faith and whether it might compromise his loyalty to America during his 1960 presidential campaign, he asserted that he would not be influenced by the Vatican and that, if elected, he would fulfill the responsibilities of the presidency without reservation. To be fair, Kennedy was responding to a pervasive suspicion on the part of many Americans that the Roman Catholic Church was out to subvert American democracy and surreptitiously infuse its faith through government channels. He wanted to make clear that he was not a political agent of the Vatican. But I believe he went further than a disciple of Jesus should go when he vowed he would not be influenced by his church. Can a follower of Jesus ever promise not to be influenced, formed and subject to Jesus and the community of faith to which that disciple belongs?

To his credit, Kennedy at least recognized that loyalty to the United States was distinguishable from loyalty to Christ and his church. That distinction is altogether lost on vice president J.D. Vance who stated recently that “as an American leader, but also just as an American citizen, your compassion belongs first to your fellow citizens….That doesn’t mean you hate people from outside of your own borders, but there’s this old-school [concept] — and I think it’s a very Christian concept, by the way — that you love your family, and then you love your neighbor, and then you love your community, and then you love your fellow citizens in your own country, and then, after that, you can focus and prioritize the rest of the world.”[1] This is a classic articulation of what some have termed, “Christian Nationalism.” There is, however, nothing Christian about it. It is simply plain old nationalism with a little Christian window dressing.

This week the cardinals of the Roman Catholic Church convene in conclave to elect a successor to Pope Francis. Should we protestants care? Is it any of our business? I believe it is. At our best, we Lutherans understand ourselves, not as a separate church, but as a confessing movement within the church catholic. There is, we believe, one church. For all of its many faults and shortcomings (all of which can be found within our own protestant faith communities), the Roman Catholic Church is the one Christian communion that, more than any other Christian body, transcends national borders, including a wide variety of “tribes and peoples and languages.” The Bishop of Rome has a huge platform from which to address our planet’s existential threats of climate change, thermonuclear war, increasing wealth disparity and authoritarian rule with the liberating good news of Jesus and the just and gentle reign of God he proclaims. All disciples of Jesus should be praying that the Holy Spirit will guide the cardinals in their deliberations to the selection of a humble, wise and courageous leader to speak from that platform.

That said, we are mindful that the cardinals are not electing the messiah. The new Pope will almost certainly not be “progressive” enough to satisfy many of us mainline protestants whose denominations have ordained women for decades, welcome LGBTQ+ folk and champion reproductive rights. A few thoughts on that score. First, the positions taken by the Roman Catholic Church on these issues are no different than those held by the Lutheran churches in which I grew up just five decades ago. It took our church centuries to arrive at the broader and more inclusive points of view we hold today. Is it realistic to expect everyone else’s opinions on these same matters to turn on a dime?

Second, whatever our official positions may be, the reality on the ground is often quite different. My own ELCA maintains what is, in effect, an apartheid system with respect to welcoming LGBTQ+ folk. There are “reconciling in Christ” churches that are openly safe and welcoming. But churches that do not so identify? They might be welcoming, but they might not. Women still face congregational skepticism, compensation inequity and obstacles to positions of leadership in our church. In short, our actual practice often falls short of our public witness.

Finally, I know many lay and pastoral leaders in the Roman Catholic Church who are working tirelessly to enhance the standing of women, broaden the church’s understanding of sexuality and build ecumenical bridges to other faith communities. I am old enough to remember being in their position within my own church as it moved at a snail’s pace opening public ministry to women, welcoming gay and lesbian couples as full participants and developing a compassionate approach to reproductive rights. We can and should support the Roman Catholic Church in its bold witness to God’s love for the earth and God’s special concern for the poor so elequently expressed by Pope Francis. At the same time we need to support those within that church seeking to reform it. After all, we protestants, especially those of us who identify as Lutheran, know well that we are all together in the process of reformation. We do not all arrive at the same place at the same time, whether as faith communities or individuals. In the meantime, we travel together by the light given us toward the end envisioned by John of Patmos, a vision that shapes, transforms and redeems our lives.

Here is a poem by Jones Very reflecting on the new heaven and earth to which John bears witness.

The New World

The night that has no star lit up by God,
The day that round men shines who still are blind,
The earth their grave-turned feet for ages trod,
And sea swept over by His mighty wind,
All these have passed away, the melting dream
That flitted o’er the sleeper’s half-shut eye,
When touched by morning’s golden-darting beam;
And he beholds around the earth and sky
That ever real stands, the rolling shores
And heaving billows of the boundless main,
That show, though time is past, no trace of years.
And earth restored he sees as his again,
The earth that fades not and the heavens that stand,
Their strong foundations laid by God’s right hand!

Source: American Religious Poems, Harold Bloom and Jesse Zuba, editors; pub. by Library of America, Inc. p.  96. This poem is in the public domain. Jones Very (1813–1880) Though a minor figure in the American poetic pantheon, Very’s work was highly regarded by such prominent figures as Ralph Waldo Emerson and Bronson Alcott. He studied at Harvard Divinity School until he succumbed to religious delusions that lead to his expulsion. His style bears the mark of his devotion to William Shakespeare whose sonnets he often emulated. You can find out more about Jones Very and sample more of his poetry at the Poetry Foundation website.

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[1] Word on Fire, In this article, Dr. Richard Clements makes a valiant, if ultimately unpersuasive defense of Vance’s remarks, referring to the concept, “ordo amoris” or “the ordering of loves.” Vance’s remark drew a pointed response from none other than Pope Francis who stated unequivocally that “Christian love is not a concentric expansion of interests that little by little extend to other persons and groups.”

  

THIRD SUNDAY OF EASTER

Acts 9:1-20

Psalm 30

Revelation 5:11-14

John 21:1-19

 Prayer of the Day: Eternal and all-merciful God, with all the angels and all the saints we laud your majesty and might. By the resurrection of your Son, show yourself to us and inspire us to follow Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.

Note: For copyright reasons, the NRSV is not available to Oremus. They are working on obtaining the necessary updated licenses, but until then are offering only the Authorized King James Version. Nevertheless, the texts I cite in this article will be taken from the NRSV.

“Worthy is the Lamb that was slaughtered to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing!” Then I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea, and all that is in them, singing, “To the one seated on the throne and to the Lamb be blessing and honor and glory and might forever and ever!” Revelation 5:12-13.

Last Friday the FBI arrested Milwaukee, Wisconsin circuit court Judge Hannah Dugan on allegations she helped an undocumented immigrant try to evade arrest. As I am not sure that a complete and reliable factual accounting of this incident has yet been made available, I will not comment on the legality of the act. But, legal or not, using our courts where people come for justice as a trap for arrest and deportation is immoral. Moreover, resisting immoral action, legal or not, is a moral obligation. We hear repeatedly, from both sides of the political spectrum, that “no one is above the law.” That is not quite true. One there is who is above all humanly constructed systems and institutions of authority, civil and religious. Jesus Christ alone is worthy “to receive all power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing.” To him alone “every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea” owe ultimate allegiance. Therefore, when it comes to an unavoidable choice between honoring Jesus’ command to love God above all else and to love one’s neighbor as oneself and obeying the laws of the land, “we must obey God rather than human authority.” Acts 5:29

I do not mean to say by this that human authority can be disregarded. Generally speaking, government is one of God’s gifts to humanity. By means of it, human society is ordered. Politics, rightly understood, are the means by which we corporately love our neighbors. Obedience to civil law is therefore our default position. That holds true even for laws that seem unnecessary, burdensome or ill conceived. Where there are procedures for repealing or amending bad law, faithful discipleship requires utilizing them to correct injustice, inefficiency and unnecessary aggravation. But laws should not be casually and arbitrarily disregarded.

The 1908 law allegedly violated by Judge Dugan reads as follows:

Subsection 1324(a)(1)(A)(iii) makes it an offense for any person “knowing or in reckless disregard of the fact that an alien has come to, entered, or remains in the United States in violation of law, conceals, harbors, or shields from detection, or attempts to conceal, harbor, or shield from detection, such alien in any place, including any building or any means of transportation.”  

The reach of this law is far from clear. Does a church operating a food pantry whose members know that many of its clients are undocumented and makes no effort to contact federal authorities “shielding them from detection?” Is a social services agency operating a homeless center knowing that many of its residents are undocumented guilty of “harboring” illegal aliens? If a pastor gives a person known or suspected to be undocumented a ride to the bus station, is she shielding an illegal alien from detection by “means of transportation?” “Does “harboring” include a church’s finding shelter for an undocumented family?

The law has not been so construed in the past, though it may be open to such a broad interpretation. Prosecutors have a wide range of discretion with respect interpreting laws and determining the scope of their reach. Law enforcement officers have discretion as to whether they will enforce the law in any given circumstance. The officer that pulls you over for speeding could well give you a ticket bearing a stiff fine and points on your license. But if you are sober, respectful and a first time offender, chances are you will get off with a warning, though there is no guarantee. Up until the present time, federal and state authorities have respected the work of churches, schools, courts and social agencies by refraining from prosecutorial and enforcement action against undocumented persons that would interfere with their operations. Such restraint was based mainly on pragmatism. It is well known that undocumented persons make up about 3.3% of the population. Prior to the tidal wave of hysteria stirred up over the last decade, these folks were not regarded as a threat and the government had no interest in mass deportations.

Things have changed, however, and that is putting it mildly. We now have a government that is committed to carrying out the “greatest deportation in history.” We have a vice president who takes pride in spreading outright lies about nonwhite immigrant communities for the purpose of turning public opinion against them. Global Refuge, a ministry of my Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, which received commendations from both Republican and Democratic administrations for more than half a century, was recently labeled a criminal enterprise by the governments unofficial Department of Governmental Efficiency.

We should have seen this coming. In 2019, during Trump 101, one of our pastors in training was deported. Betty Rendón, who fled from her native Columbia in 2004 as a refugee after guerrillas threatened the school she directed there, was arrested by ICE, detained and deported. At the time of her arrest, she was studying at the Lutheran School of Theology at Chicago and commuting from the city to Racine, Wisconsin, to work part time as a lay minister in one of our churches. Her application for asylum was denied for lack of documentation leaving her with two options. She could either return to Columbia with her husband and daughter where the danger from which she fled still existed, or she could remain in the United States and hope for the best. Technically, Betty Rendón lacked legal standing to remain in the United States and was subject to deportation. But as with all statutes, enforcement is largely discretionary. Prosecutors need not prosecute and the police need not enforce every law every time against everyone under all circumstances. Indeed, they ought not to waste limited public law enforcement resources when so doing serves no public purpose.

To be clear, the government is responsible for ensuring public safety. To that end, arrest and imprisonment/deportation of persons, documented or not, posing a threat to the public is justified. But such authority must be exercised with care, pursuant to law and consistent with due process. The present administration’s fixation on deporting eleven-million people who are, to a greater degree than the general population, law abiding, tax paying and productive members of society is destined to conflict with the church’s ancient ministry of hospitality to strangers and sanctuary for refugees. It seems to me that we have reached a point at which we must decide whether we will be true to our baptismal covenant of discipleship with Jesus, or set that covenant aside and, by our silence and inaction, become complicit in our nation’s crimes against the most vulnerable among us. If, as my own church declares, walking with immigrants and refugees is a matter of faith, the church must be prepared for acts of defiance, civil disobedience-and the consequences that will surely follow.

Perhaps the greatest temptation facing us comes in the form of despair. What difference can an institutional church in decline hope make in a nation driven by big money and dirty politics? What can a small church struggling to meet its budget and take care of its own aging population do for its neighbors living in fear of violent arrest and deportation? What can one person do against systemic evil infecting all of society? These very sentiments are expressed by in the Hebrew Scriptures to the psalmist:

“Flee like a bird to the

mountains,

for look, the wicked have fitted their arrow to

the sting,

to shoot in the dark at the

upright in heart.

If the foundations are destroyed,

what can the righteous do?” Psalm 11:1-3.

The psalmist replies that “the Lord is in his holy temple,” that “His eyes behold, his gaze examines humankind,” that “his soul hates the lover of violence,” that “he loves righteous deeds” and that the “upright shall behold his face.” For this reason, despite the seeming victory of the wicked, the psalmist nevertheless declares, “In the Lord I take refuge.” Psalm 11:1.  

I believe the visions recorded by John of Patmos in the Book of Revelation have never been more relevant than they are for this day. I believe they offer a wealth of spiritual resources for a struggling church living in a hostile environment. Sadly, Revelation has been highjacked by pre-millennial sects fixated on figuring out when and how the world will end. That, however, is not John’s purpose. If you want to understand Revelation, you need to begin where it does, namely, with John’s letters to the seven churches of Asia Minor. There we are introduced to seven faith communities living in legal jeopardy on the margins of society, divided by false teachings and self-proclaimed prophets, discouraged and on the verge of disintegration. John of Patmos reminds them of their importance and assures them that their struggle to follow Jesus is of cosmic significance. His visions rip away the vail of futility shrouding his church’s spiritual vision. In graphic and lurid imagery, John shows his churches that history is not being driven by the brutal imperial regime of Caesar or Rome’s ruthless economy of greed and exploitation, all of which are symbolized by the grotesque predatory beasts described in his visions. To the contrary, the future belongs to Jesus, “the lamb who was slaughtered.” The churches’ struggle to remain faithful in their witness to Jesus through public testimony, mutual love for one another and service to their neighbors puts them on the side of the God whose determination to redeem a wounded and broken world will not be thwarted. That is as true in the twenty-first century today as it was in the first.

Faithful witness might appear to be futile. As poet Adrianne Rich points out, our resistance to evil, our efforts to protect and preserve what matters seems ineffective, weak and bound to fade with time. Still the faithful hold vigils and protests that seem to accomplish nothing, stand with refugees in danger of deportation when the law and public opinion are against them, work food pantries that cannot begin to satisfy the needs of the growing number of food insecure families. We do this because we know that the lamb who was slaughtered for doing the same has been raised and that to him belong all “blessing and honor and glory and might forever and ever!”  

A Mark of Resistance

Stone by stone I pile

this cairn of my intention

with the noon’s weight on my back,

exposed and vulnerable

across the slanting fields

which I love but cannot save

from floods that are to come;

can only fasten down

with this work of my hands,

these painfully assembled

stones, in the shape of nothing

that has ever existed before.

A pile of stones: an assertion

that this piece of country matters

for large and simple reasons.

A mark of resistance, a sign.

Source: Poetry, August 1957. Adrienne Rich (1929-2012) was born in Baltimore, Maryland. She attended Radcliffe College, graduating in 1951. She was selected by W. H. Auden for the Yale Series of Younger Poets prize that same year. Throughout the 1960s, Rich wrote several collections of poetry in which she explored such themes as women’s roles in society, racism and the Vietnam War. In 1974 Rich won the National Book Award which she accepted on behalf of all women. She went on to publish numerous other poetry collections. In addition to her poetry, Rich wrote several books of nonfiction prose, including Arts of the Possible: Essays and Conversations (W. W. Norton, 2001) and What is Found There: Notebooks on Poetry and Politics (W. W. Norton, 1993). You can read more about Adrianne Rich and sample more of her poetry at the Poetry Foundation website.