Ever notice how women in the Bible are sometimes ascribed characteristics that are no where attributed to them in the text? Mary Magdalene was a prostitute, because that is how she is portrayed in "Jesus Christ Superstar" right? It must be for that reason, because there is no text that states that she is, or was a prostitute. In this Sunday's text, we have a meeting between a Samaritan woman and Jesus, at a well. She has become known as the "woman at the well", always announced with a change in tone of voice by many male pastors. She was an immoral woman, because Jesus sees through her and reminds her that she has had five husbands, and the man with whom she is currently residing is not her husband. Case closed..slut! Really? Does Jesus call her that? Does the text refer to her as that? The text gives us the facts. David Lose, who teaches at Luther Seminary, makes the point that, when Jesus talks about her five husbands and the current co-habitor, he does not pass judgment. Lose can take one's breath away when he states that the woman could have been abandoned by some of those husbands, as it was a common practice. The man with whom she currently resided could have been there to provide for her welfare, a household of convenience. The reason I find Lose's take on this passage so remarkable is that, after Jesus tells the woman all of these things about her personal life, he has not alienated her. Instead, she states "I see you are a prophet." Lose tells us that sometimes the word "see" is an indication of faith. So, maybe the woman at the well recognized Jesus as a prophet, one who dared to speak to a woman, a Samaritan woman, no less. In the preceding chapter, Nicodemus did not understand who Jesus was, and yet the woman at the well "got" who Jesus was, almost right away. Why? Is it a story about power and who really has access to it? Those who live on the margins are more likely to recognize the prophets among us, because they have fewer things competing for their attention. The woman runs home, forgetting her water jug, and tells her friends and neighbors about the remarkable prophet she has just met. In John's gospel, she is the first evangelist for Jesus.
So why have we not heard such an interpretation very often? Could it be because, historically, men in the church have not been great about giving women credit for their role in the establishment of the early church? Lose thanks a female friend for a discussion that engendered his thinking and commentary on the text. Sometimes, not always, but sometimes, guys just don't get it.
This blog reflects the musings and thoughts of a college chaplain as he mines the weekly lectionary scripture passages for homily ideas. Sometimes he writes to get things off his chest, or to stimulate discussion of current events.
Monday, March 21, 2011
Friday, February 25, 2011
How Much Do We Believe in God? Matthew 6:24 - 34
There is a huge sycamore tree in our front yard that has a hole high up in the trunk where two large branches converge. We have a great view of that tree from our living room window. Often I have sat there, transfixed and amused by the carryings on of the many squirrels who live in our yard. That hole in the trunk is a popular destination, and, on any given day, squirrels can be seen carrying dried leaves and twigs into it, making a nest that must be comfy and warm. I have even seen birds and squirrels vie for the spot: when one leaves to get more fluff for the nest, the other quickly reclaims the hole. Possession seems to last until the latest resident has to leave and the other comes back. I once observed a squirrel carrying a load of leaves in its mouth that was too wide to get through the entrance to the nest. After several unsuccessful attempts to enter, the squirrel went back down the tree, returning a moment later with a more manageable load and was able to successfully navigate the entrance. The squirrels seem patient and even cheerful as they do their work, day after day. I have often wondered if they have bad days and moody times. They just seem to carry on, regardless of weather or circumstance. They really are quite miraculous creatures.
Jesus' remarks about the lilies of the field are among the most beautiful and imaginative in all of the gospels, in this writer's opinion. There is a majesty in the text that paints the most vivid pictures to underscore the meaning of the words. In our twenty-first century lifestyles of comfort and abundance, it may be difficult to capture the original intent of the words that Jesus spoke in their context. Most of the people in Jesus' time and place were desperately poor, and survival was very much a day to day operation. Many people tried to scratch out a living by working in the soil, or by fishing. The lilies of the field image was directed to the farmers in his midst. He reminds them that, though their lives are tied to the soil and to the creatures who also get their food from it, they are not called to become actual lilies or birds. The ultimate meaning of their lives is not defined by the soil in which they work, but is rooted in God's providential care for all creatures. The birds of the air, the flowers in the meadow, the men and women who struggle to subsist on the barest of essentials: all of these are under the providential care of God. The text reminds its readers that, though the needs of men and women are greater than those of plants and animals, God's love and sustaining care are adequate for the survival of all.
If our lives are to have true meaning, then they must serve something outside of ourselves. If a man or woman farms, and cares only about the actual work of farming, for example, he or she makes an idol of work. In addition, such a person may also begin to covet those things which he or she does not have because the financial resources are so limited. The rich may idolize the possessions which they have accumulated, and the poor may come to idolize those things which they do not possess. In either case, there is an insecurity born of a lack of trust. Do we really trust God for our immediate, as well as our ultimate survival? Can we find the confidence to state honestly that we believe that God does care for us? The answer to that question may sound very different coming from someone who has a good job and adequate shelter over against someone who is wandering the streets. But Jesus' message is clear: those who would call themselves his followers must possess the inner peace and fortitude to believe that their lives cannot fall out of the realm of God's loving care. We can have lengthy discussions about how that care is best demonstrated, and about what happens to our perceptions of that care when tragedy strikes, jobs are lost and dreams are shattered. But before we can move on to discuss those larger issues, we must be able to discern for ourselves if we really believe what Jesus says in this passage. To what extent do we really believe that God cares for us?
Jesus' remarks about the lilies of the field are among the most beautiful and imaginative in all of the gospels, in this writer's opinion. There is a majesty in the text that paints the most vivid pictures to underscore the meaning of the words. In our twenty-first century lifestyles of comfort and abundance, it may be difficult to capture the original intent of the words that Jesus spoke in their context. Most of the people in Jesus' time and place were desperately poor, and survival was very much a day to day operation. Many people tried to scratch out a living by working in the soil, or by fishing. The lilies of the field image was directed to the farmers in his midst. He reminds them that, though their lives are tied to the soil and to the creatures who also get their food from it, they are not called to become actual lilies or birds. The ultimate meaning of their lives is not defined by the soil in which they work, but is rooted in God's providential care for all creatures. The birds of the air, the flowers in the meadow, the men and women who struggle to subsist on the barest of essentials: all of these are under the providential care of God. The text reminds its readers that, though the needs of men and women are greater than those of plants and animals, God's love and sustaining care are adequate for the survival of all.
If our lives are to have true meaning, then they must serve something outside of ourselves. If a man or woman farms, and cares only about the actual work of farming, for example, he or she makes an idol of work. In addition, such a person may also begin to covet those things which he or she does not have because the financial resources are so limited. The rich may idolize the possessions which they have accumulated, and the poor may come to idolize those things which they do not possess. In either case, there is an insecurity born of a lack of trust. Do we really trust God for our immediate, as well as our ultimate survival? Can we find the confidence to state honestly that we believe that God does care for us? The answer to that question may sound very different coming from someone who has a good job and adequate shelter over against someone who is wandering the streets. But Jesus' message is clear: those who would call themselves his followers must possess the inner peace and fortitude to believe that their lives cannot fall out of the realm of God's loving care. We can have lengthy discussions about how that care is best demonstrated, and about what happens to our perceptions of that care when tragedy strikes, jobs are lost and dreams are shattered. But before we can move on to discuss those larger issues, we must be able to discern for ourselves if we really believe what Jesus says in this passage. To what extent do we really believe that God cares for us?
Thursday, February 17, 2011
Don't Just Resist, Stand Against (With thanks to Walter Wink) Matthew 5:38 - 48
One of the most oft used phrases in the English language has to be "turn the other cheek." We use it to denote times when we did not return anger for anger. More often than not, however, it takes on the connotation of someone who acts as a "doormat" and allows other to walk all over him or her. "Turn the other cheek" has come to mean a willingness to take abuse. Nothing could be further from the meaning Jesus intended when he used the phrase. Jesus does not tell his followers not to respond to evildoers, he tells them to resist without resorting to violence. One need not look deeply into scripture to read of allusions to non-violent resistance: Rejoice when you are persecuted, pray for deliverance from evil, love your enemies, pray for those who persecute you.
When Jesus admonished his followers to turn the other cheek, he was not telling them to acquiesce, but to stand against the persecutor. A superior would use the right hand to slap an underling, because the left hand was used only for unclean functions. In order to show superiority, the superior would use the back of the hand to strike the underling. If the underling then turns the other cheek and invites another slap, the superior is placed in the precarious position of having to use the palm of the hand to strike the underling or to not even try. To strike with the palm is to covey some sense of social equality. Even though the superior may choose to flog the underling mercilessly for the impudence shown, the action illustrates what is what is known as "standing against" and it has been used effectively recently in Egypt and other Middle Eastern countries where people's movements have sprung up. Sadly, the people have not always protested non-violently, nor have the governments responded non-violently. Thus, a cycle of violence has sometimes emerged, which is exactly what Jesus was speaking against.
Some have mistakenly called what Jesus taught a form of "passive resistance." Truth be told, there is nothing passive about it. In his day, a person who was owed a debt could take everything from the debtor, including his outer cloak. However, the cloak had to be returned at night, as many people had only their cloaks to keep them warm while sleeping. Jesus admonished his followers to give the upper cloak as well, which meant the debtor would stand stark naked before the lender. In keeping with the cultural mores of the day, the nakedness of the debtor brings shame to the person who observes his nakedness, not to the debtor. Conquering armies could require prisoners to carry their backpack for one-thousand paces. Rules of war being what they were, impelling someone to carry the pack any further than that could subject the soldier to disciplinary actions. So, carrying the pack more than the one-thousand paces could make a soldier very nervous, and the underling thus gained an advantage.
So, you see, there was noting wimpy about what Jesus suggested that his followers do when they were being persecuted. Standing against an oppressor puts that person or authority off-balance. It does not mean that retribution for the embarrassment will not be forthcoming for the underling, but it does mean that the one in power must act in the full light of the exposure which has been brought about by the underling standing against the powerful. It says "I am a human being just like you. I am a child of God. You can't put me down, even if you kill me." Martin Luther King, Jr. understood this concept, which is the reason his demonstrations and acts of civil disobedience changed a society. We need to reclaim Jesus' mandate never to return hate for hate and violence for violence. Instead we must claim the power inherent in recognizing all people as children of God. When an injustice is committed against one, it is commuted against all.
When Jesus admonished his followers to turn the other cheek, he was not telling them to acquiesce, but to stand against the persecutor. A superior would use the right hand to slap an underling, because the left hand was used only for unclean functions. In order to show superiority, the superior would use the back of the hand to strike the underling. If the underling then turns the other cheek and invites another slap, the superior is placed in the precarious position of having to use the palm of the hand to strike the underling or to not even try. To strike with the palm is to covey some sense of social equality. Even though the superior may choose to flog the underling mercilessly for the impudence shown, the action illustrates what is what is known as "standing against" and it has been used effectively recently in Egypt and other Middle Eastern countries where people's movements have sprung up. Sadly, the people have not always protested non-violently, nor have the governments responded non-violently. Thus, a cycle of violence has sometimes emerged, which is exactly what Jesus was speaking against.
Some have mistakenly called what Jesus taught a form of "passive resistance." Truth be told, there is nothing passive about it. In his day, a person who was owed a debt could take everything from the debtor, including his outer cloak. However, the cloak had to be returned at night, as many people had only their cloaks to keep them warm while sleeping. Jesus admonished his followers to give the upper cloak as well, which meant the debtor would stand stark naked before the lender. In keeping with the cultural mores of the day, the nakedness of the debtor brings shame to the person who observes his nakedness, not to the debtor. Conquering armies could require prisoners to carry their backpack for one-thousand paces. Rules of war being what they were, impelling someone to carry the pack any further than that could subject the soldier to disciplinary actions. So, carrying the pack more than the one-thousand paces could make a soldier very nervous, and the underling thus gained an advantage.
So, you see, there was noting wimpy about what Jesus suggested that his followers do when they were being persecuted. Standing against an oppressor puts that person or authority off-balance. It does not mean that retribution for the embarrassment will not be forthcoming for the underling, but it does mean that the one in power must act in the full light of the exposure which has been brought about by the underling standing against the powerful. It says "I am a human being just like you. I am a child of God. You can't put me down, even if you kill me." Martin Luther King, Jr. understood this concept, which is the reason his demonstrations and acts of civil disobedience changed a society. We need to reclaim Jesus' mandate never to return hate for hate and violence for violence. Instead we must claim the power inherent in recognizing all people as children of God. When an injustice is committed against one, it is commuted against all.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Justice Denied? Micah 6: 1 - 8
Nearly one year ago, on a bright and sunny April afternoon, our home was robbed. My wife and I walked through the house, afraid of each discovery of something missing that we had not noticed before. The sight of the broken kitchen door, the confused look on the face of our cat who had just become a resident of our home the week before, the empty spaces where computers and radios had been just that morning, the vacant dresser-top where the wedding bands for our daughter's upcoming wedding had rested - it was almost too much to take in. Several weeks later the culprits were caught while robbing another home in the area. None of our possessions were recovered, but we had the chance to come face to face with our adversaries recently. Over a year after their crime spree began, the two men responsible for the string of robberies appeared in court for a preliminary hearing to determine if they should be bound over for trial. They were made to sit and listen as each of us who had been robbed gave testimony as to how we discovered the robberies and recounted what had been taken. I discovered that some individuals lost much more than we did, some of them also experiencing the death of spouses immediately before, or after, the burglaries. The defense attorneys each asked me if I had ever seen his client before. I looked each middle-aged man in the eyes, and one of them began to smile at me, and then, thinking better, perhaps, he dropped his gaze. No, I had never seen either one of them before that day in court. After the hearing, the men were bound over for jury trial, unless they plead out first.
While reflecting on this difficult year, my eyes came across the very familiar and beloved passage from the prophet Micah. "What does the Lord require of you, but to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God?" If one reads the verses that come before this final passage, one understands that Micah was not offering a harmless platitude here. His meaning is clear: God wants justice, not worship. God wants justice, not oppression. God wants us to love seriously, which is fair to the meaning of hesed, the elusive word in the Hebrew Scriptures that may be translated as steadfast love. If one loves seriously, justice will be served. Justice will be real when it is achieved for those for whom justice has always been denied. Looking into the eyes of our burglars, I could not help but try to imagine each as a young child, when he was innocent and looked at each day with wonder. What happened to change them? Was this crime spree a way of life, a lark, an act of desperation? Will the sentence meted out result in justice? I have no doubt that, for those of us who were robbed, there will be some sense of satisfaction and closure. But, for me, it will be a troubled peace, to be sure. Our penal system will not rehabilitate these men, but make them harder and more determined to be more careful next time. Our system of justice in this country is predicated on punishment, not reform. We will not "do justice" to them, for to do so would mean to forgive each man and work with him so that he will have a better and more productive and honest life in the future. Instead, as individuals, we will trust the system to deal with each man. We will worship, we will try to love others, and we will move on. And justice, I am afraid, will not be served. At least, not in the way Micah had envisioned.
While reflecting on this difficult year, my eyes came across the very familiar and beloved passage from the prophet Micah. "What does the Lord require of you, but to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with your God?" If one reads the verses that come before this final passage, one understands that Micah was not offering a harmless platitude here. His meaning is clear: God wants justice, not worship. God wants justice, not oppression. God wants us to love seriously, which is fair to the meaning of hesed, the elusive word in the Hebrew Scriptures that may be translated as steadfast love. If one loves seriously, justice will be served. Justice will be real when it is achieved for those for whom justice has always been denied. Looking into the eyes of our burglars, I could not help but try to imagine each as a young child, when he was innocent and looked at each day with wonder. What happened to change them? Was this crime spree a way of life, a lark, an act of desperation? Will the sentence meted out result in justice? I have no doubt that, for those of us who were robbed, there will be some sense of satisfaction and closure. But, for me, it will be a troubled peace, to be sure. Our penal system will not rehabilitate these men, but make them harder and more determined to be more careful next time. Our system of justice in this country is predicated on punishment, not reform. We will not "do justice" to them, for to do so would mean to forgive each man and work with him so that he will have a better and more productive and honest life in the future. Instead, as individuals, we will trust the system to deal with each man. We will worship, we will try to love others, and we will move on. And justice, I am afraid, will not be served. At least, not in the way Micah had envisioned.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Where is God?
Whenever a tragedy occurs, it is inevitable among people of faith that the question will arise, "Where is God?" I would think that those who are skeptical of religion in general would also be asking that question right about now.Most of the victims of the shooting in Tuscon were active in their communities of faith. Should that not offer some form of protection? Should we just say to the families of those who were killed, "Well, God loves you." Even worse, folks will utter the blasphemous phrase, "It was God's will."
We have a need to make sense of tragedy. That is a normal response. Trouble is, sometimes we cannot make sense of tragedy, no matter what we say, or think, or do. and the shootings in Tuscon will never make sense to the families of those who died, or were injured. So, what can people of faith say at such a time? May I suggest that we take the example of Job's friends during the first week of his suffering. They sat in silence while he wailed and protested his innocence. When people are suffering and asking why something happened, do we think that they really want an answer? Does explaining the mental illness of the shooter really help make the event more palatable for the families and victims who survive? Will they be mollified by us explaining the ridiculous gun registration laws in Arizona? Does standing up and defending God to them make any sense? I would say no, it does not. God does not need us to act as defense attorneys. Job's friends ceased to be friends when they began to speak as to the reasons for his suffering. When tragedy occurs, what is needed is a love and silence that envelopes the suffering to let them know that they are not alone. The crazies from Westboro Baptist church have announced that they will picket the funerals of the victims of the shootings. Citizens in Tuscon have responded by planning an "angel action" whereby the families and attendees at the funerals will be shielded from the protesters by a phalanx of persons dressed in angels wings that are large enough to abscond the view of the protesters. Silent, prayerful presence is what they will offer. And that may be exactly what the families need right now, as they try to formulate their own questions. Let us be vigilant, prayerful and in awe of the reality that God will not abandon those who suffer, and never has. That does not mean that all questions are answered. After all, Job never did get answers to his questions or his protests of innocence. What he got, instead, was God. Could he have asked for more? Can we?
We have a need to make sense of tragedy. That is a normal response. Trouble is, sometimes we cannot make sense of tragedy, no matter what we say, or think, or do. and the shootings in Tuscon will never make sense to the families of those who died, or were injured. So, what can people of faith say at such a time? May I suggest that we take the example of Job's friends during the first week of his suffering. They sat in silence while he wailed and protested his innocence. When people are suffering and asking why something happened, do we think that they really want an answer? Does explaining the mental illness of the shooter really help make the event more palatable for the families and victims who survive? Will they be mollified by us explaining the ridiculous gun registration laws in Arizona? Does standing up and defending God to them make any sense? I would say no, it does not. God does not need us to act as defense attorneys. Job's friends ceased to be friends when they began to speak as to the reasons for his suffering. When tragedy occurs, what is needed is a love and silence that envelopes the suffering to let them know that they are not alone. The crazies from Westboro Baptist church have announced that they will picket the funerals of the victims of the shootings. Citizens in Tuscon have responded by planning an "angel action" whereby the families and attendees at the funerals will be shielded from the protesters by a phalanx of persons dressed in angels wings that are large enough to abscond the view of the protesters. Silent, prayerful presence is what they will offer. And that may be exactly what the families need right now, as they try to formulate their own questions. Let us be vigilant, prayerful and in awe of the reality that God will not abandon those who suffer, and never has. That does not mean that all questions are answered. After all, Job never did get answers to his questions or his protests of innocence. What he got, instead, was God. Could he have asked for more? Can we?
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
A Christmas Message
More than any year in recent memory, I have noticed the popularity and "coolness" of folks professing atheism or agnosticism and expressing surprise and even disdain for those who profess religious faith. I have no doubt that some of it has to do with the "me over the we" mentality of many people today. The Washington Post reports that, according to a recent poll by the Christian group LifeWay Research, "A majority of agnostics or those claiming no preference (89 percent), individuals claiming other religions (62 percent), and even atheists (55 percent) celebrate Christmas along with 97 percent of Christians." For those who are focused on "me" Christmas can be a great gig. What better time to buy "gifts for me" as many people stated on Black Friday as their reason for braving the crowds? Of course, the church may have erred way back when it chose a pagan feast time to observe its own religious celebration of the birth of Christ. I find myself dreading the Christmas season each year, because it seems to be a time of excess and selfishness, clothed in an air of respectability, since the holiday focuses on peace and good will.
Having said all of that, I do love the meaning of the season. Advent has always been a season of joy and great expectation for me, and a time to re-imagine what the impact of God's messiah could be on the world. The message of Christ is not one that the majority of people embrace seriously, and that includes many practicing Christians. Christ's ethic is demanding, and many of us blithely pass over it and observe less demanding aspects of the faith. I love the liberal Protestant tradition of which I am a part, but I am embarrassed when Catholic and non-Christian friends ask me why there are so many Protestant denominations. Face it, denominations arose whenever Christian believers could not, or would not, resolve differences. It has always been easier to take one's doctrinal toys and go home than it has been to work out honest disagreement. My own home church thought a physical building was more important than unity, and thus the congregation split after our judicatory denied permission to rebuild after a fire totally destroyed our building. Admittedly, the locals in charge bungled how they announced the decision and would hear no appeals. But the building is not a church, the people are.
Finally, lest this rant leave one feeling depressed, I am more convinced than ever of the efficacy of the Christian message as a solution to the ills of the world. To all who scoff at the Bible or the message of Christ because they have not seen the Church behaving very well, I would encourage them to again look at the teaching of Jesus. He was, and is, the real deal, and he came to bring a new way. He should not be dismissed out of hand because God's people have done a poor job of communicating his message. So, my Christmas wish to you is for a new year filled with God's ever-new reality dawning on you anew each day. May Christ be revealed in unexpected and delightful ways to you in the new year, and may all of us be reasons that others decide to give the Gospel message another look. Merry Christmas!!!
Having said all of that, I do love the meaning of the season. Advent has always been a season of joy and great expectation for me, and a time to re-imagine what the impact of God's messiah could be on the world. The message of Christ is not one that the majority of people embrace seriously, and that includes many practicing Christians. Christ's ethic is demanding, and many of us blithely pass over it and observe less demanding aspects of the faith. I love the liberal Protestant tradition of which I am a part, but I am embarrassed when Catholic and non-Christian friends ask me why there are so many Protestant denominations. Face it, denominations arose whenever Christian believers could not, or would not, resolve differences. It has always been easier to take one's doctrinal toys and go home than it has been to work out honest disagreement. My own home church thought a physical building was more important than unity, and thus the congregation split after our judicatory denied permission to rebuild after a fire totally destroyed our building. Admittedly, the locals in charge bungled how they announced the decision and would hear no appeals. But the building is not a church, the people are.
Finally, lest this rant leave one feeling depressed, I am more convinced than ever of the efficacy of the Christian message as a solution to the ills of the world. To all who scoff at the Bible or the message of Christ because they have not seen the Church behaving very well, I would encourage them to again look at the teaching of Jesus. He was, and is, the real deal, and he came to bring a new way. He should not be dismissed out of hand because God's people have done a poor job of communicating his message. So, my Christmas wish to you is for a new year filled with God's ever-new reality dawning on you anew each day. May Christ be revealed in unexpected and delightful ways to you in the new year, and may all of us be reasons that others decide to give the Gospel message another look. Merry Christmas!!!
Sunday, November 28, 2010
What To Do with Advent?
Well, we have finally arrived in the season of Advent. You know Advent, the season that arrives just after Black Friday and the day before Cyber-Monday. It's the season that many folks would just as soon skip, as it means a four-week wait until Christmas. So what is one to do in the meantime? Well, that is exactly what Advent is all about: what do we do in the meantime? "What meantime?" you may ask. The meantime between the first coming of God's messiah and the coming of God's ultimate kingdom. "Oh. Can't we just sing Christmas carols and pretend that Advent is already past?" Come on, admit it, you were thinking that, weren't you? The vast majority of Christians whom I have met over the years cannot get excited about Advent. And yet, for me, it is the most promising of the seasons of the Christian year. I was thinking back today, while I was sitting in church listening to a pastor skip right over Advent, to my first year in parish ministry. I recall how excited I was to lead worship during those Sundays in Advent. My congregations were not as excited, as I had replaced the usual four-week festival of carols with Advent hymns. Well, I was twenty-five and I am sure that they assumed that I would grow out of it. I have not grown out of it, though I admit to fudging a bit because we are not in session at the college for the whole season of Advent, so I let a carol or two into the service because our chapel family will not be together to sing them at the proper time.
More than ever before, I have been aware this past year of the creeping agnosticism that has pervaded the lives of many people with whom I work, both students and professionals. I wonder how much of it has to do with our insistence on immediate gratification? Since the Advent season is all about the promise of what is to come, folks cannot wait and so give up. What they forget, however, is that Advent is about one promise fulfilled and one still to come. God came to earth incarnate, and so, the promise of the fulfillment of the Kingdom is valid and worthy of belief. I hear so many people say that God does not exist, or, at least, that God is rather useless. Again, that insistence on immediate gratification is at work, claiming that God has let down humanity because evil still reigns in the world. There is no doubt that evil does reign in many places, and in the hearts of many people. And that is God's fault? The message of Advent promises a new world, where justice and equality are the standard. However, justice and equality are threats to power structures, and will always be so. Just as Advent calls for us to believe in a new way, so does justice insist that things that have always been must change. But folks are loath to accept change unless there is a personal, tangible benefit. This year, during the Black Friday craziness that I think shows America at its worst, people were interviewed by local news stations as to why they put up with the craziness. Some admitted that it's a fun family tradition and not so much about the shopping as about the chance to be together. Others were exalting over the fact that they had purchased really neat gifts for themselves at tremendous savings. So, a large number of people do not believe in the promise of Advent or in a God who is real and relevant, but they are willing to believe the myth that retailers hand them that bargains galore await them if they will simply alter their lifestyles for a day and do the bidding of the big box icons by getting up in the middle of the night. Few people get the actual bargains, and the whole travesty of the shopping addiction having something to do with the Christmas message is allowed to play on, and on. We need Advent's message, if for no other reason than to save us from ourselves.
More than ever before, I have been aware this past year of the creeping agnosticism that has pervaded the lives of many people with whom I work, both students and professionals. I wonder how much of it has to do with our insistence on immediate gratification? Since the Advent season is all about the promise of what is to come, folks cannot wait and so give up. What they forget, however, is that Advent is about one promise fulfilled and one still to come. God came to earth incarnate, and so, the promise of the fulfillment of the Kingdom is valid and worthy of belief. I hear so many people say that God does not exist, or, at least, that God is rather useless. Again, that insistence on immediate gratification is at work, claiming that God has let down humanity because evil still reigns in the world. There is no doubt that evil does reign in many places, and in the hearts of many people. And that is God's fault? The message of Advent promises a new world, where justice and equality are the standard. However, justice and equality are threats to power structures, and will always be so. Just as Advent calls for us to believe in a new way, so does justice insist that things that have always been must change. But folks are loath to accept change unless there is a personal, tangible benefit. This year, during the Black Friday craziness that I think shows America at its worst, people were interviewed by local news stations as to why they put up with the craziness. Some admitted that it's a fun family tradition and not so much about the shopping as about the chance to be together. Others were exalting over the fact that they had purchased really neat gifts for themselves at tremendous savings. So, a large number of people do not believe in the promise of Advent or in a God who is real and relevant, but they are willing to believe the myth that retailers hand them that bargains galore await them if they will simply alter their lifestyles for a day and do the bidding of the big box icons by getting up in the middle of the night. Few people get the actual bargains, and the whole travesty of the shopping addiction having something to do with the Christmas message is allowed to play on, and on. We need Advent's message, if for no other reason than to save us from ourselves.
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