A Theophany of Geese

When I told my churchfolk that there was yet another PreachingPeace conference that I "had" to go to, they humored me once again, asking, "What's this one about?"  The title, Blessed Brutalities, got me some weird looks.  In response, I explained. "It's about the religious origins of violence in America", I said.  Several people smiled in the way that adults smile at small children who always ask for the same favorite flavor of ice cream, telling me that it sounded like something I'd enjoy. A few asked for a fuller explanation, and were puzzled by the idea that violence could have it's roots in religion, especially our Christian religion.  After a momentary review of Christian history, it didn't take long for their confusion to lift, although no one seemed to like what they were left confronting. It was easier to get up in the morning when we were thinking that holy war, slavery, racism, sexism and every other sort of ism were someone else's responsibility.  One person went to great lengths to explain to me why I had the subject wrong. It wasn't the religious origins of violence; it had to be the origin of religious violence in America. Only some violence was religious, or motivated by religious zeal, and that was often a mistake; the rest of it had nothing to do with religion.  Violence was manmade, religion had to do with God. Interesting distinction, but only half true at best.

I learned a lot at the conference.  For those of you wondering if a long drive or whatever it might take for you to get to one of the PP conferences is worth it, I'd say yes, unequivocally. John Pahl of Luther Theological Seminary took us on a whirlwind tour of American religious history and culture. We looked at our puritan heritage, our national history, at film and story and current social issues. We had a wonderful time for questions and discussion.  It was an amazingly rich experience that left us wondering anew about the world we live in and our place in it. Much of the material was drawn from Pahl's soon to be published book by the same title as the conference: Blessed Brutalities.  Look for it in June- and buy it and read it. Teach it to your church.  People need to know what the ground they stand on consists of.  They also need to know that there is hope, real hope, despite the overwhelming evidence of human violence in every area of our lives.  Hope comes from the same source it always has- the gospel of peace, the good news of God's love for humanity found in Jesus.  Ultimately, our understanding of God as a race/species of people makes an enormous difference in our ability to envision a different world and to work toward it. If God is commonly understood to be angry and vengeful, to appreciate human suffering and sacrifice, to have desired the death of God's own son as payback for human error, then humanity will not only tolerate violence, we will perceive a genuine need for it in order to be in relationship with God.  But if God is known to be loving and peaceful, to appreciate human obedience to the call of love, to have raised Jesus up to life despite our violence, then humanity will not be able to tolerate violence.  There will be no place for it in our relationship with God.  Sadly, most people, most of the time, rely on the God of violence and vengeance that Hollywood so dependably illustrates for us.  We bless brutality as a necessary, although unpleasant, tool for keeping the world safe. Of course, Jesus didn't promise us safety...but we seem to be hellbent on it if our history is any indication.

The evening before the conference I went out for a walk around the Welcoming Place where I was staying. Even my husband, comfortably toughened by reality, had raised his eyebrows at the content and title of the conference. "Blessed Brutalities? Are you kidding me?"    Wondering if the emphasis on violence was counterproductive or perhaps a seductive slide down a slippery slope to tolerating more instead of less of it, I offered my anxieties up in prayer only to be distracted by the wild honking of geese flying overhead. I looked up and saw them in a formation I've never seen before.  There appeared to be two flocks that had joined together, one flying partially inside the outline of the other. Together they formed the perfect outline of a dove, right down to three that made the eye and the second string that was the wing extended in flight. As I watched, they held that pattern till they were out of sight, the last in the long line of the underbelly of the bird finally disappearing into the twilight. They left me with the assurance that the Holy Spirit was in charge, and that someday, Blessed Brutalities would be an oxymoron.  Maranatha! Amen.

nancy hitt.

Comments

[mary]

Thank you for the report, Nancy. We're hoping you're joining us for the May Theology & Peace conference. Any chance??

[michael hardin]

nancy:

A beautiful story...with a sign from God! How wonderful. Thanks for posting about this. I hope folks will take advantage of our May and June events as well!!