Category: Justice

Gifts in a Time of Pandemic: Darkness

Hello darkness, my old friend
I’ve come to talk with you again
Because a vision softly creeping
Left its seeds while I was sleeping

Paul Simon

If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me,
and the light around me become night,”
even the darkness is not dark to you;
the night is as bright as the day,
for darkness is as light to you.

Psalm 139:11-12

God is present in the light and the darkness. In joy and sorrow. In success and failure. In gladness and affliction. God is in the darkness and darkened future of the present pandemic.

This year, I started growing plants for my vegetable garden from seeds. I had the opportunity to observe what many others have known: Seedlings grow faster at night. They capture the energy of the sun during the day and much of their growth happens in darkness. I am considering this as a metaphor for our growth into our true humanity. Growth often happens in the darkness and in the midst of trials.

The psalmist says, “Weeping may linger for the night, but joy comes with the morning.” (Psalm 30:5) Our lives include both night and morning, weeping and joy. Both darkness and light are necessary. God is in both.

I recall entering a time of trial and darkness. Because of previous experience, I was desirous of receiving what God had to give me through what I was enduring. When I came out of that period of struggle, I had mixed emotions, wondering if I had received everything from it that was meant for me. (Likely not, but I was grateful for what I did receive.)

Some trials are personal, some communal. We are presently enduring a global pandemic. It is a dark night that we share with others—although not all in the same way. Those who have lost loved ones to the virus experience the darkness acutely. Health workers on the front lines experience the depth of this pandemic in ways that most of us escape. And there are great societal disparities in the way this pandemic is experienced.

There are pandemics in the midst of pandemics. The pandemic of racism has a long history that continues alongside the coronavirus pandemic. The recent shooting death of a young black jogger by two white men (who were not charged until a video surfaced two months later) is a manifestation of this brutal pandemic—as are the historic inequities that are exacerbated by the virus. One pandemic affects the other. Will the darkness of the one help us to enter, in some manner, the darkness of the other? Because of the great unevenness of this virus’ impact, mainline news has had more to say about disparities than we are used to hearing. Will we stay with the hearing and go deeper?

The COVID-19 pandemic may be heightening our awareness—as the darkness often does. If we are open, we may no longer be able to ignore these other pandemics. We may gain hearts that move us to do justice and love mercy. We may find ourselves working to overcome the divisions that we have erected. We may receive an elevated sense of community that calls us to action, as we share with others during this pandemic.

In the darkness of this pandemic, there is great potential for change and growth. In the darkness, we may become more self-aware and engaged in inner work, acknowledging our false attachments, motivations, and attitudes. In the quietness of the night, we may wonder about our purpose. What is our true calling? What is truly essential for our growth as human beings? In the darkness, we become still and wait. We become open and receptive. In the darkness, we let go of trying to secure ourselves and, in letting go, we gain our true humanity made in the image of God.

God is in the darkness as well as in the light. We find God there if we do not attempt to fill the darkness with something foreign to it: binge-watching videos or drowning ourselves in social media or dulling our fears and insecurities with various addictions. And yet, even our addictions may play a part. Their enchainment may bring us to our knees and have us crying out to God for deliverance. When that happens, we have allowed ourselves to enter the darkness to receive its gift: The gift of growth and change and greater awareness of our need and the needs of others and the sharing of ourselves in the building of true community.

Filed under: Grace, Justice, SpiritualityTagged with: , , ,

Gifts in a Time of Pandemic

The very depth of emotion, the connecting to the core of one’s being, the calling into play one’s strongest feelings and abilities, can be rich, even on deathbeds, in wars and emergencies, while what is often assumed to be the circumstance of happiness sometimes is only insulation from the depths, or so the plagues of ennui and angst among the comfortable suggest.

Rebecca Solnit, “A Paradise Built in Hell: The Extraordinary Communities That Arise in Disaster”

Rebecca Solnit examines catastrophes such as the 1906 San Francisco earthquake and Hurricane Katrina for the extraordinary experiences of community, sharing, and deep compassion. She gives expression to the hurt and suffering as well as the actions, often by those in authority, that make matters worse in the crisis. Her focus, however, is on human beings shining with the beauty of humanity in the midst of great trials.

We see this humanity played out today in the many concrete acts of compassion in the midst of the pandemic. Relationships often take on a deeper significance, not only relationships to those near and dear, but to neighbors and strangers. There is the sense that we are going through this together. Often it is very simple experiences that are deepened in their significance for our lives. Recently, on a pleasant weather day, neighbors came out of their back doors to enjoy the sun. We immediately greeted one another across two fences and entered into conversation. My neighbor two doors down shared how wonderful it was, in the midst of our “staying in place,” to find each other outside at the same moment and be able to share with one another.

We experience a deeper appreciation for neighbors and for those who deliver our mail, pick up our garbage, and work in our grocery stores. In addition to the health care workers on the front lines of combating this virus, we are recognizing other “essential workers:” bus drivers, farmworkers, food processors, first responders of all kinds, delivery people, maintenance people, home health aides. Some, like the last in this list, often receive less than a living wage. Many essential workers are undocumented. Will our recognition of the essential nature of their work bring about a societal change that ensures a living wage, health care for all, and a path to legalization for the millions of undocumented workers? Can we acknowledge that every one of us is “essential” and are to be loved?

We are given an opportunity, during this time of COVID-19, to reflect on the inequalities that are present and on the kind of society we want to have. The crisis this virus has created shines a light on the inequities. The statistics that show a much larger percentage of deaths in communities of color are a reminder of what has historically been the reality: The state of health, in these communities, is an outcome of years of inequities in the provision of health care, in the existence of food deserts, underfunded education, and diminished job opportunities. What this pandemic reveals to us about these injustices, we must not ignore. Deepened understanding is a gift, as is the call to work toward the kind of change that comes from doing justice and loving mercy. Will we receive these gifts?

There is much we can receive as we go through this time of pandemic, gifts that will change our lives. Saint Paul encourages us to make the most of the time: “Be careful then how you live, not as unwise people but as wise, making the most of the time.” There is something to receive during this time for the upbuilding and renewal of community. Therefore, we must make the most of this time, so that we receive the gifts given for the recreating of our relationships and society.

Filed under: Grace, Humanity, Justice, SocietyTagged with: , ,

A Pandemic Reminder: The World Is One

If we have ignored this reality, the present pandemic is a reminder: the world is one. A virus that began in Wuhan, China, is now global. It will increasingly effect every part of our global community. We are all in this together. What has been moving rapidly across the northern hemisphere will do the same in the southern hemisphere. What we have shared with those to the south will come back to the north from the south. It will move in every direction finding many various ways to spread.

Of course, this virus that knows no boundaries does not make us interconnected; it makes it harder to ignore our interconnection. We are one world, no matter how many boundaries or barriers we erect: physical, social, national, ethnic, class, etc. We affect one another across boundaries and by means of the barriers we erect: the wealthy here, the poor over there.

Those who are poorest among us, having the fewest resources, will experience greater devastation from this virus—the result of the inequality we have built within our nations and the global community. The poor do not simply choose to be poor. Poverty is produced by greed, racism, nationalism, fear; by the loss of love and compassion. As Augustine said, “The superfluities of the rich are the necessities of the poor.” We cause the divisions and breakdown of our one world. And yet the reality of the one human race is primary. We are one world. The coronavirus is a reminder. It touches us all.

This virus is expected to grow much more rapidly among poorer communities across the world. Consequently, it will be kept alive and pervasive longer because of the barriers we have erected and the oneness we have ignored. We are one world and one human family, but we have acted like we were adversaries in a quest to carve up this globe into kingdoms of wealth and power. Never mind the losers.

It is clear that if we, as a global community, were to address the needs of the hungry and poor among us, especially by addressing the systemic ways of operating that have produced inequities, we would break down barriers to the one world that we inescapably are. It may be that the reality of this pandemic forces us to make changes. After all, we are all helped when the necessities for healthy communities are available to all. The deeper change, however, comes with a change of heart, a movement toward love and compassion.

On this Maundy Thursday, Christians remember and reenact the last meal Jesus had with his followers. We share in a meal at which Jesus is the host. Jesus gathers us from every corner of the global community. The barriers of class, race, nation, and gender are removed. As Paul writes, “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.” Followers of Jesus are to be witnesses to this reality—witnesses to the true humanity to which all are called, a humanity made in the image of the God who is love.

Filed under: Justice, Love, Poverty, WitnessTagged with: , , ,

Followers of Jesus and War

With the assassination of a leader in another nation, the United States has expanded its warring ways in the Middle East and increased the possibilities of all-out war with Iran. In the face of this reality, the follower of Jesus does not look to see where his or her political party affiliation is on this issue. The follower does not look to a particular ideology or philosophy or the “realistic” response within the framework of global politics. Nor does the follower check with his or her feelings about kin and country, people and nation.

The follower of Jesus listens to the one he or she follows:

“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. (Matthew 5:43-45)

Jesus, who proclaims that the “reign of God” is near, lets us know that God’s love is near. God’s love is not limited to the love of neighbor and kin. After all, God loves a humanity that has run from God. Paul, in his letter to the congregation in Rome, reminds us that “while we were enemies” (to God), God reconciled us. This love of God, the love that loves enemies, is near and we can open ourselves to it, surrender our lives to it, so that we pray for those who persecute us. So that we do what Proverbs 25 encourages us to do: “If your enemies are hungry, give them bread to eat; and if they are thirsty, give them water to drink.”

This love is counter-cultural and counters the operation of worldly politics. It is to this love that the followers of Jesus must witness. God has a radically different way for us to operate than that of the power-politics of the nations of the world. Within the framework of national sovereignty, security, and national interests, coercive power plays a dominant role. And this love of God that loves enemies, makes no sense and has no place. But that must not keep the follower of Jesus from witnessing to that love. We witness to God’s reign and ways of governing. We call a world back to the source of all creation. It is a call from death to life—to Life Itself.

The seeming futility of such a witness must not keep us from witnessing. It is a matter of faithful obedience to the one we follow—to the living Christ. We must witness in word and action. In the early centuries of the church of Christ, there was a common recognition that following Jesus excluded soldiering. (Second century, Tertullian: “The Lord in disarming Peter henceforth disarms every soldier.”) The “just war theory” came later as Christianity became entangled with the state.

Follower of Jesus, witness to God’s love that reveals itself most powerfully in the love of enemies and acts by making peace where there is discord. Encourage the community of faith of which you are a member to operate in solidarity as a witness. Join with others to call this nation away from war and warring ways. Call it to the ways of peace. The security of this nation will never be in its power over others globally or in its expanding and maintaining its “interests.” It will be in doing justice and its care for the needs of others. Its oppressive and unjust actions in the world pave the way for its destruction. We must witness to those oppressive ways, for our nation and its leaders are in denial and operate blind to this nation’s own forms of terror unleashed upon others.

As witnesses, we are called to prayer and action. In a world that gravitates to war, we are to do those things that make for peace: Do justice, love mercy and live faithfully. Jesus says to us, “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.”

Filed under: Discipleship, Justice, Love, Peace, War, WitnessTagged with: , ,

The “Gospel” That Supports Trump

Pastor Robert Jeffress, an evangelical supporter of Trump, was interviewed for an opinion essay in the Washington Post. He provided us with his (and many Evangelicals) main reason for supporting Trump. He tells us “that regardless of what happens in Washington, D.C., that the general trajectory of evangelicalism is going to be downward until Christ returns.” He explains that, as he understands Scripture, things “get worse and more hostile as the culture does.” Things get less and less “evangelical-friendly or Christian-friendly.” He sees “the election of Donald Trump as maybe a respite, a pause in that. Perhaps to give Christians the ability and freedom more to share the gospel of Christ with people before the ultimate end occurs and the Lord returns.”

This is an amazing statement from someone who purports to be a Christian leader. Why is he focused on a downward trajectory for evangelicalism rather than a downward trajectory for the world (given the state of the world)? At the heart of Christian good news is that “God so loved the world that he gave his only Son.” Jesus says that he did not come into the world to condemn the world but to liberate it, and he trains his followers for the work of deliverance and healing.

And Jesus does not look for respite from the emperor or provincial leaders. When he is told that King Herod is out to kill him, he says, “Go and tell that fox for me, ‘Listen, I am casting out demons and performing cures today and tomorrow, and on the third day I finish my work. Yet today, tomorrow, and the next day I must be on my way, because it is impossible for a prophet to be killed outside of Jerusalem.” In effect, Jesus is saying that he does not have time to pay attention to King Herod, much less cozy up to him. He has a God-given mission that concludes, as it often does for prophets, in being killed. His focus is on the world, on hurting and broken lives. He is about healing and deliverance directed outward to others. He tells his followers it has to be the same way for them: “For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the good news, will save it.”

Jesus does not entertain a “Christian-friendly” environment. Rather, Jesus tells his followers to expect persecution and that, therefore, they must “deny themselves, take up their cross (their suffering and death) and follow him daily.” They are not to seek to secure their lives (their Father in heaven will do that); they are to lose their lives for the sake of others receiving the good news. When they get anxious, they are reminded that their Father in heaven cares for them, and they are directed to seek first God’s reign and purpose and leave to God the kinds of things that they tend to get anxious about. They are set free to focus outward to the needs of others, even unto death.

Pastor Jeffress gives an alternate vision in which Christians, astonishingly, have to count on someone like Donald Trump to give them a respite, while Trump’s actions and that of our government, cause great hurt and death to others. This view eliminates the true mission and witness of Jesus’s followers. And an alternate “gospel of Christ” gets promulgated.

So, what is this alternate gospel? What kind of gospel seeks a “respite” for ourselves while putting up with degrading, demeaning language directed to others, often to the most vulnerable among us? What kind of gospel provides personal respite while allowing children to be separated from their parents at the border? What kind of gospel makes room for the consistent demeaning of people fleeing from great danger to seek asylum? What kind of gospel has nothing to say to the racist actions of a president who sets a tone for the country? What kind of gospel provides respite for white followers of Jesus while making room for demeaning, dangerous language directed to black and brown people? What kind of gospel has us so absorbed with our own condition that we minimize the impact of the rhetoric and actions of this president on others, or simply do not care enough to pay attention to the effects of his actions on others? What kind of gospel does not call us to confront the lies and deceit and injustices?

A “gospel” that puts up with so much pain and hurt at the expense of others while providing “respite” for Christians, has hidden idolatries that “accepting Christ” apparently does little to disclose. This “gospel,” rather than calling for repentance, carves out a place for the idolatry of nation and race, as well as other idols our culture worships such as our comfort, pleasure, possessions, and power. It allows for a form of “Christianity” whose message, in many aspects, is nationalist and often implicitly white nationalist. It is idolatrous. Oblivious to the idols that enslave us, we enjoy our worship and our thoughts about God’s grace toward ourselves while maintaining all manner of self-righteous and destructive attitudes toward others. We may even disregard repentance altogether. This “gospel” may leave us “unaware that the kindness of God would lead [us] to repentance.”(St. Paul) We may go around saying, “I accept Christ. I accept Christ,” as if that were the end of the matter.

The truly good news that Jesus proclaims is that the reign of God is near and is a gift and is available to all. Therefore, Jesus tells us to turn (repent) from our idols (our allegiances that are false to our true selves) and enter into God’s reign. Under God’s reign, we receive the freedom of the children of God—the kind of freedom we see in Jesus, the child of God. In Jesus, we see freedom from being directed by fears, including the fear of others; we see freedom to show mercy, to do justice, to love others. When we begin to experience God’s reign, we discover a very different kind of governing from that of the nations of the world, and we become witnesses in word and action to God’s ways of governing. We are witnesses by our compassion and mercy toward others, our welcome of those different from us, our work for justice, and our being instruments of God’s healing in the world.

Filed under: Grace, Justice, Love, Society, WitnessTagged with: , ,

The Coming Collapse

Hanns Lilje, a Lutheran pastor in Nazi Germany, in his book, The Valley of the Shadow (1950), shares his experience with arrest, interrogation and a trial that ended with his being sentenced to death. (Before the sentence could be carried out, however, communication broke down and the Allies gained control of Germany.) One of his observations in this book was that the Nazi regime was collapsing from within. He sees the collapse in the faces, features, and actions of guards, interrogators, and judge.

He views young men whose lives were “empty,” who “were forced to be brutal” which “caused them to crumble inwardly.” He describes the judge’s face, at his trial, in this way: It “had originally been a good one, almost noble, with clear-cut and intellectual features, but it had decayed (as it were) from within, and all his features bore signs of a terrible inner decline.”

Of tyrants, like Hitler, Lilje writes: “God allows the tyrant to follow his way blindly, to the end, until nothing remains.” Evil sown reaps the decline and fall of the evil-doer.

We are reminded of Paul’s words: “Do not be deceived; God is not mocked, for you reap whatever you sow.” (Galatians 6:7)

Evil sown carries its own demise within it. Sin is like a parasite. It eats away at truth, compassion, justice, mercy, and faithfulness until it has nothing left to feed upon. St. Augustine says, “Sin is nothing and human beings become nothing when they sin.” Sin always robs us of reality. The “nothing” that is sin produces no love; it undoes love. It shows no compassion, no mercy. Where justice is required, it is unjust. And it is untruthful: It takes away from and distorts the truth.

We experience this undoing personally, and we see it taking place all around us. None of us are without sin, and we all experience the breakdown sin causes in our lives and relationships, whether from our own sins or the sins of others against us. We see this corruption on a social and global scale. We see the loss of compassion daily in the mistreatment of human beings at our border, in our warring ways, in the gangsterism on our streets and in corporate boardrooms, in sexual assault and harassment, and in all forms of inhumanity towards others: the injustices in our criminal justice system, discrimination in housing, health care and educational resources, and in the neglect and hurt of the most vulnerable among us.

We see the disintegration of truth and compassion among those who are placed in positions of leadership. We currently have a man in the office of the presidency who has lied or made misstatements, according to fact-checking, more than 11,000 times in his presidency. Many have become numb to this situation. We have leaders who disparage and demean various ethnic groups and religions among us and leaders who show little regard for future generations as they refuse to address the issues of climate change, seeing such actions as disadvantages to their wealth and power.

But what we are seeing is not only the great hurt being perpetrated on others but the steady breakdown and destruction of the perpetrators themselves. They are unwittingly sowing the seeds of their own demise. Their corruption is eating away at branch and root. It is not surprising that our present government has had a steady flow of those who have had to leave their positions.

The New Testament book of James says, “Not many of you should become teachers…for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness.” Not many should become leaders. Judgment awaits. What has been sown will be reaped. If we have sown to destruction (the destruction of compassion and justice and mercy), we will reap destruction. We will reap our own inhumanity with its consequences in the hollowing out of our lives and our eventual collapse. Yes, we will leave carnage in our wake, but we will also lose our own souls.

We see this debilitation in the leadership of our government. It is a sickness unto death. That does not mean that we can simply sit, watch and wait for it all to fall apart and then attempt to pick up the pieces. That would mean more affliction on the most vulnerable, and it would mean our own disintegration. People of faith know that they are called to be witnesses. We are to witness from the grace, compassion, and justice we have experienced. As we learn to live from the Source of love, we know that we are under a call to speak to the corruption by witnessing to God’s compassion and justice. We are to join with others to call for compassion, justice, and mercy and do so by addressing the specific injustices of our time, working to make right what is wrong. We are to do justice. We are to be channels of the kind of love that effects actual change.

To those who continue down the road of destruction, who have committed themselves to that road, we will be viewed as subversives. To those who hold onto power for themselves (and “their people”) over against others, we will be called radicals. But then love, care for the truth, and doing justice are radical; they go to the root (radix) of being the humans God calls us to be.

Filed under: Evil, Humanity, Justice, Society, Spirituality, WitnessTagged with: , , ,

“Deliver Us From Evil”

In the Gospel of John, Jesus says, “The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.” Evil only produces death. God, who comes to us in Christ, gives life.

When I hear people urge us to war, when I hear leaders talk easily—again!—about preparing for war, I see evil at work; the thief is at work to maim, destroy and steal lives away from mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, wives and husbands and children. When a leader provides us with his “brilliant” rationale for regime change by military action, I do not hear brilliance or reasonableness or wisdom or knowledge; I hear evil stealing away heart and mind, compassion and love. The thief is present to do the only thing evil does: steal, kill and destroy.

Evil takes possession of our minds. It has us think that we have a reasonable approach to a problem, when, in reality, we have a plan that produces maimed bodies, traumatized minds, and death. Evil has us in a cycle of sin and death. Because of war, we have seen (and are presently seeing) hundreds of thousands killed. We have seen children left without parents, hundreds of thousands flee in terror, become refugees, displaced and hungry. We have seen the growth, rather than the diminishment, of terrorist organizations. And our bombs and weaponry terrorize, leaving death and destruction.

Possessed by evil, we think war makes sense; evil even has us think that we have understood the problem for which we have decided war is the solution. Some may question my use of the word, “possessed,” here. But, the word is descriptive of our experience, as we keep doing the same massively destructive activity, thinking that we will get different results. It is apparent that we cannot free ourselves. St. Paul writes of our being “captive to the law of sin.” We suffer from a form of possession. Christians have learned to confess this captivity in the words of a prayer of confession: “Most merciful God, we confess that we are captive to sin and cannot free ourselves.”

With confession, we no longer deny our condition. We are at the starting point of change. We acknowledge our bondage (as the prayer continues) “in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done and by what we have left undone.” Our thoughts and words have entangled us in destructive, harmful ways which we have rationalized. With confession, we acknowledge that we have been unable to stop going to war and justifying our actions.

The prayer of confession continues, “We have not loved you (God) with our whole heart; we have not loved our neighbors as ourselves.” Now we get to the root of our warring ways: not loving, being alienated from the God who is love. This prayer of confession ends with these words, “Forgive us, renew us, and lead us, so that we may delight in your will and walk in your ways, to the glory of your holy name. Amen.”

This prayer moves us to return to the source of our lives where we experience mercy, renewal, guidance, and delight in God’s will for humanity. As we discover life lived from Love, we become witnesses to love and peacemakers. We become, in St. Paul’s words, “ambassadors of reconciliation,” issuing the call to others to be reconciled to God and become at peace with one another. In response to the call, others join the movement to make peace and stand against war. They unite in a movement that works for change in heart, mind, and action. By our words and deeds, we affect the nation in which we reside, so that it may not so easily go to war, but rather become a more just society that acts justly in the global community. Acting justly is conducive to peace.

Filed under: Evil, Justice, Peace, WitnessTagged with: , ,

What To Do About the Caravan

Five to seven thousand men, women, and children, in what has been called a “caravan,” are moving slowly from Central America to the Mexican-U.S. border with hope for help and asylum. Their movement has become a political stratagem in the rhetoric of the president of the nation of which I am a citizen. As we move toward midterm elections, the idea of this caravan is used as a hook into fear. In order to enhance the fear effect, our president throws middle-easterners and gang members into the caravan fantasy he is producing. Nicholas Kristof in the New York Times reminds us that “more than 1.4 million foreigners immigrate to the United States each year. If, say, half the caravan reaches the border, and half of those people actually enter the U.S., they would represent less than one-tenth of 1 percent of this year’s immigrants.” It seems there are other much larger problems facing the American people.

In any case, I am interested in looking at this issue as a follower of Jesus. I am able to set aside the geopolitical arguments of various political persuasions because they are not mine. And Donald Trump’s hooks are not hooks for me. What I have to say concerning those who come to the border of my nation is quite simple and straightforward: Love them. Welcome them. Respond concretely to their needs. They are reaching out for help, therefore, help them. Do unto others as you would like others to do unto you. “Give to everyone who begs from you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you.” (Jesus)

Know that when you respond to their needs, you are responding to Jesus and the One who sent him: “I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.” When did we do this? “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.” (Matthew 25:33-40)

Jesus told his followers to love their enemies and pray for those who persecute them. This love of enemies is the love that is from God, who while we were enemies to God, God reconciled us. (Romans 5:10) The kind of love that can love enemies is a love that changes all our relationships. It enables us to see (past our fears) the needs of others and respond. Jesus keeps it simple: Love people. But, of course, simple is not necessarily easy. This love requires action. Often, in the face of fear and hate, it demands our time, energy, and resources. Love is the hard, narrow road that leads to life. Jesus says that it requires us to deny ourselves, take up our cross, and follow him in a world that does not understand this love. This kind of love requires that it be poured into our hearts by the Spirit of God. (Romans 5:5)

Do I expect my nation or the nations of the world to operate this way? Not without a great deal of repentance, that is, change. Our relationships within and outside our nation would have to become just. We would have to stop building, maintaining, and selling arms globally. The reality is that all administrations have supported war, including war to simply maintain our hegemony. Recent administrations—whatever the party—have sold arms to Saudi Arabia and supported its war in Yemen, which has brought about massive atrocities, hunger, starvation, and refugees. It is hard to imagine the change of heart and mind that would be necessary to stop killing and to truly embrace needy people at our border and within our nation. But, as Jesus says, what is impossible for human beings is possible for God.

Followers of Jesus are called to be witnesses to God’s love and God’s ways in a world hostile to those ways. I am speaking here of those who follow. There is clearly a difference between going by the name “Christian” and following the one who is being named. We are to be salt, light, and yeast in the world—change agents. I am grateful for the witness of churches offering sanctuary for undocumented persons and for the various immigration and refugee services of churches. And the witness of other peoples of faith and their communities. And people who do not see themselves as people of faith but embrace humanity. If we truly welcome our humanity and that of others, a humanity made in the image of God, we cannot be far from God.

Filed under: Fear, Justice, Love, Mercy, WitnessTagged with: , , , ,

A Drive-by Shooting and Other Senseless Acts

There was a shooting on my block this week. A drive-by shooting. Three young adults were shot. A nineteen-year-old young man died of a gunshot wound to the head, an eighteen-year-old young woman was shot in the leg and another woman of the same age received a graze wound.

It is suspected that this shooting was related to a conflict between two gangs in my neighborhood. The victims, however, had no gang affiliation; two were not from this area but were visiting the third. One of them was a student at the community college at which my son teaches. Two had been spending the afternoon doing homework at a Starbucks.

There have been other shootings on this block and in this neighborhood. And my immediate feelings, in each case, are the same: grief and helplessness. I find myself praying for the victims and their families and the perpetrator; for the young couple across the street with the small child; for my neighbors, my neighborhood, and society.

I feel the senselessness of the act. I blurted out to my wife, “What is the point?” Of course, there is no point, no purpose to evil, no reason not to love. And there is always a reason to love. There is always a purpose to love. The unconditional love of God “poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit” gives us life and purpose and binds us together. Without love, our lives fall apart.

But “not loving” takes many forms. It is not only the act of a lost, confused youth with a gun. Not loving shows itself in:

Not listening to the cries and hurts of others.
Not turning from our prejudices, fears, and resentments to truly see the other.
Not turning from our inordinate focus on our comfort and pleasure.
Not doing justice and being merciful.
Not working for change in ourselves and our society.
Not being salt, light, and yeast in our society.

I ask myself what I am called to do. One thing, of which I am clear, is that if I work for justice, I will be addressing the issue of violence. It does not matter the focus of the justice work, for justice is simply making right what is wrong. There are numerous ways to do justice: Work for fairness in education—public schools in poor neighborhoods having the same level of resources as those in rich neighborhoods. Work for criminal justice reform, voter reform, economic justice. Address the easy flow of guns into the hands of lost youth. Reach out to these youth. All these actions address the issue of violence.

Christians, in particular, are to proclaim God’s governance, in which the first are last and the last first, and those who exalt themselves are humbled and the humble exalted. We are to call others back to God, the Source of life and love. We are to turn to the Source for ourselves.

Not loving takes many forms. Taking no action in the face of hurt and need is not loving. A phrase, in a confession of sins, used in many churches is: “I confess that I have sinned by what I have done and by what I have left undone.” It is what we do not do that most manifests our not loving. Love acts! Love acts for the sake of victim and perpetrator. Love acts to bring about change in our society toward support of families, support that encourages, educates, and provides just incomes. Love acts for the healing of mental and emotional illnesses and the uplift of the “least” among us. Love does not ignore the wounded but treats the wounds and addresses that which inflicts the wounds.

Filed under: Grief, Justice, LoveTagged with: , , ,

Witnessing to a Love without Borders

“More Love, More Justice” (Sign at “Families Belong Together” March in Chicago protesting an immigration policy that separates children from families and detains families.)

“Love has no borders” (Protest March in Chicago)

“Love never ends.” (St. Paul)

“Welcome one another with the welcome of Christ.” (St. Paul)

“Humanity Before Law” (Protest March in Chicago)

“The sabbath was made for humankind, and not humankind for the sabbath.” (Jesus)

Jesus came proclaiming God’s reign, God’s governance. He proclaimed that it was not far away, but near. Jesus called people, therefore, to turn (repent) and enter into God’s reign and become witnesses to God’s governance. Those who follow Jesus would, like him, be a sign that contradicts the world’s ways of operating. They would witness to a form of governance that is radically (at its roots) a critique of the governments of the world.

The witness to God’s reign, as we experience it in the letting go of our lives to God and as its reality increasingly becomes ours, exposes false allegiances and false dependencies and the distance from reality that the world and its various national governments manifest. We who are witnesses to God’s way of governing cannot get caught up in any notions concerning the exceptionalism of our nation. I believe it was Soren Kierkegaard who made the observation that democracy exchanges the tyranny of kings for the tyranny of the people. The tyranny of what Christians confess as the “bondage to sin,” remains. Democracy is a step forward because it puts the responsibility on “we the people,” but the problem of sin and selfishness does not go away simply because “we the people” are deciding how to govern ourselves.

The human condition, in its alienation from God, from the source of its life and reality, establishes ways of governing that move far from the reign of God, which is a reign of love. We establish within our “democracies” all manner of injustice and oppression. We find ways to suppress the votes of those we want to exclude; we construct a racist criminal justice system; we ban people whose religion we fear, but do not understand; we snatch children from their parents at our borders to cause fear to others who may want to cross over; we go to war and kill soldiers and civilians alike in order to maintain our power over others (for our “security”); we sell arms and support wars that destroy whole societies, causing starvation and untold suffering. And then “we the people” sing, “God bless America,” remaining in denial about God’s judgment.

It is into this environment, this world as it exists, that the followers of Jesus are sent to be witnesses, not to our nation’s pride of place or our nation’s security or prosperity or its constitution, but to God’s reign. Jesus says we are to be salt, light, and yeast in the world by witnessing to God’s governance.

So we witness: Under God’s governance there are no borders. “Love has no borders.” There is one human family. All are welcome into God’s reign. Yes, we understand that because of the condition of sin, nations will have borders, but we are not sent to witness to our bondage but to God’s liberation. With God, “love never ends.” As it is with salt, light, and yeast, so our witness is to effect change in our world.

We do not have an ideology that can, if adopted, make everything right and just and borders no longer felt to be necessary. Our call is not to an imagined ideal society mapped out in rational terms. Rather our call, as followers of Jesus, is to witness to the Source of our lives and our liberation and transformation. We are to witness to what is on the heart of our Liberator God as we are coming to know it and live it. There may be some who undergo a conversion at the center of their lives because of our witness. Others may, at the least, be moved to see the plight of others and to ease their disregard for other people’s humanity.

I write these words with the church in mind. The church is losing its way. And “the time has come for judgment to begin with the household of God.” (1 Peter) We are called to repent from all idolatry of race and nation and “our religion.” We are called to turn back to the center, to the One in whom we live and have our being, having no other gods before the one true and living God.

Filed under: Justice, Love, WitnessTagged with: , , ,