This article really is a hopeful one. In Washington State, an organization is helping returning vets who find it difficult to make it in the civilian world by training them in "green" jobs, working in the wilderness. Now that is green peacemaking!!
http://www.cnn.com/2009/LIVING/worklife/05/19/veterans.green.jobs/index.html
Michael
May 19, 2009 | Permalink | Comments (0)
I am going to do something I probably should not do, I am going to label GW and Rummy as fake Christians, false Christians, followers of a false Christ, indeed, an anti-Christ. I am going to say that their version of what constitutes Christianity is not only heresy, it is the most damaging sort of synchophantic nationalistic nonsense we haven't seen since Charlemagne or Pope Urban II. Even Adolf Hitler was not so stupid as to try and merge some kind of Christian dogma into his version of National Socialism (although many of his followers sought to).
The reports out on the now released Defense Intelligence Estimates given to Bush have pictures of US soliders in battle with Bible verses on their covers. If this is not some kind of holy war mentality I don't know what is. I cannot fault the Muslim world if they should get the impression that Christian (sic) America is out to destroy them. If the churches in America do not stand up and absolutely denounce this use of Scripture, if they are afraid of being politically incorrect or if they think they can stand idly by wait until we get a President whose mind is as sharp as Bill Clinton's and whose heart is as dark as Dick Cheney's they are dead wrong and not counting the cost of discipleship.
As you can tell, I am disgusted, distrubed, bothered and hot under the collar. I did not once see Rummy quoting Jesus, for if he had, he could not have EVER justified this war we are in. And I think of all those flag-waving Christians who think they are doing honor to both God and country at the same time, who sing militant hymns in church, who show triumphalist videos in their sanctuaries and I say: False shepherds, false Christians, you listen to a lying Spirit, a spirit of deception and murder, the Spirit of your progenitor who was a liar and muderer from the beginning.
This is not a political issue, this is a theological issue, it is to use the texts which are in the process of denouncing violence to justify violence and here is the rub: it all comes down to a view of the inspiration and authority of Scripture which is believed to be fully inspired, infallible or inerrant. It is time to get to the heart of this issue before a Christian fascist really takes hold of the White House.
Michael
May 18, 2009 | Permalink | Comments (1)
After seven years and 97,000+ miles, my car gave me clear notice that I had a choice; either replace it or spend about $4,000 to get it back into shape.
And so I entered the world of new car shopping. There were two different cars I was considering, so I visited two different dealers. The experiences were an eye opening exercise in being manipulated by desire. The first dealership greeted me enthusiastically and answered all my questions. When I asked to test drive a four cylinder basic model car, they produced one and sent me on my way. I liked the car; it was the updated model of my former car. It was comfortable, the new contours were streamlined and appealing, and the mileage was very good. It was also not an expensive car. I left saying I'd like to think it over; the saleswoman graciously encouraged me to do so and to return at my convenience. The second dealership also greeted me enthusiastically. However, the car they provided for me to test drive was not the four cylinder basic model I had phoned ahead and asked for. Instead it was a BEAUTIFUL bright red, 6 cylinder fully loaded car with every option I'd ever heard of and at least two that I didn't know existed. It boasted power everything: doors, seats, windows, locks; on-board navigation, cruise control, redundant sound controls on the steering wheel, separate air conditioning controls and vents for the back seat, a Bose sound system, tinted windows, and push button ignition, along with a new safety feature built into the key-less entry system. While the electronic push button start spooked me after a recent electronic malfunction nightmare, there was a back-up key system. Oh, and the sunroof- did I mention the sunroof? The car would do just about everything but talk to me, and I swear that was probably an option if I'd wanted to pay for it. The sales man insisted that I'd get the same feel for the car if I drove this one as I would if I drove what I'd asked for, which now seemed pretty puny by comparison. Besides, if I really insisted on test driving a different car, it was going to take him a while to get it out from it's gridlocked position in the back lot. Never mind that I had called ahead; never mind that I knew this was a marketing ploy; never mind that I was never, not in a million years, going to buy this particular car- I graciously got in rather than put him to the trouble of getting what I'd asked for and I drove the super power car.
Boy, did it drive! It was smooth, it was quiet, and it was wonderful. It handled as if it was part of me; responding to every move I made, seamlessly. The driver's seat (with its own power controls) wrapped me in comfort, supporting my back and cradling my sensitive aging joints with well cushioned upholstery. The air conditioning simply happened; there was no blast of hot air in my face to start and no stream of cold air to freeze my head while the rest of me simmered either. There were so many vents that the whole vehicle just seemed to cool off spontaneously. The sound system made me think I was at the symphony, and the sunroof illuminated the interior with natural light. When it comes to mode of transportation, heaven may provide this car for the angels; winged flight would be more work than this ride. I drove around in a very big circle, down country roads, out onto the highway, and back to the dealership. With the exception of the non-stop chatter meant to be encouraging from the salesperson in the back seat, it was an amazing experience. Of course, when we got back to the dealership, the sales pitch kicked into high gear. Did I like the car? Of course! Anyone with eyes to see would like the car! Did I feel how smooth the ride was, did I recognize how well appointed the car was, did I understand how the features would keep me safer and get me wherever I was going better than anything else I'd driven? Again, of course. I understood all of these things. I also understood a sales pitch when I heard one, and I wasn't particularly impressed with the lengths the salesman was going to to pitch his product. It was amusing; I felt like I'd stepped back in time to an era when consumers were ignorant of how they were enticed to consume, when advertising was regarded as factual and true instead of pitched to get a particular response. I didn't appreciate the rather obvious ploys to entice me to buy this car. As an educated consumer, a person aware of the dynamics of desire and the tactics used to elicit it, I had thought myself, if not quite immune, at least beyond the reach of such techniques. And in many ways, I was. I easily ignored the chatter about the cars desirability, instead measuring my own experience up against the first one in my head and discovering to my horror that I WANTED this one. I did. I really wanted all the bells and whistles, all the comfort and luxury, all the special power features. After all- it would keep me safer- and who could argue with safety as a legitimate reason for making a purchase? Wasn't that why I was buying a new car in the first place? Ultimately the salesman's full frontal attack wore thin, and I had no trouble telling him that I was leaving without purchasing the car. I knew I had been set up and manipulated to bring me to the point of desire for this car. I could see and name just how that was accomplished. What stunned me was that it worked. While I found the sales pitch to be so obnoxious that I'd have gone to another dealership for the same car if I'd decided to buy it, I was deeply surprised by the desire that the experience of driving the car aroused in me. Why shouldn't I have this car? Why shouldn't I spend my money this way? Didn't I deserve it? Wasn't I worth it? I have to tell you that I honestly felt different about myself when surrounded by luxury, and recognizing that horrifies me. What brought me back to my senses was the encouragement from both the sales agent and my husband to "buy what will make you happy." That did it. I know that a car will not make me happy. Many things in life contribute meaningfully to my happiness, but cars have never been one of them. Teetering on the edge of losing my own identity in the desirability of the car, I backed off and said no. No, I was not buying the car, at least not today. I'd have to think about it.
I think the salesman and I were equally crushed. He because he had failed to sell me the car; me because he almost succeeded. What he didn't know was that it would take me another two days before I could embrace the first car with anything resembling enthusiasm. Cars are powerful symbols in our culture, and as such they are powerfully desirable objects. I had to literally back off and review my own desires before I could make a rational decision about which car to buy. I went home and considered other cars that weren't even initially in the running, so disturbing was this process. Ultimately, my decision was still driven by desire, but at least I can say that I was able to separate my genuine desires from the cultural overdrive of desire that I was caught up in. There's no way out of it; desire is what moves us in life to love and compassion and response to the gospel just as surely as it is what distracts us from those very same pursuits.
This experience of temptation and desire was a healthy surprise for me; I really don't care about cars, never have and probably never will. Yet even I was tempted to buy more than I needed or wanted by the images and experience that luxury conveyed. It was a powerful reminder that we are indeed driven by desire. The response to an old slogan may be appropriate here: "If God is your co-pilot, switch seats."
I bought the first car. And I'd like to think I switched seats.
nancy hitt.
May 11, 2009 | Permalink | Comments (2)
May 26-28 is the second Theology and Peace Conference. Three years ago Tony Bartlett, Tom Nicoll and I convened a group of folks interested in the relationship between mimetic theory and peace. Our first gathering featured presentations by Willard Swartley, Gerald Mast, Tony and others. For two days we hammered out how we saw the mimetic theory in relation to historic Peace Church perspectives. That gathering was such a success that a provisional board was developed and last year in Maryland was held the second T&P meeting. It has been broadened ecumenically to include all Christian perspectives. The group grows year by year with pastors, theologians and laity all sharing in this new revolutionary paradigm. Here is the link to the story of how T&P began.
http://theologyandpeace.org/our-story.html
If you have these days in May free, I encourage you to register NOW for this year promises to bring lots of light (and I suspect a little heat!). For more information and to register here is the link:
http://preachingpeace.org/theopeace2.htm
For all those waiting until the last minute to decide, please consider joining us at Techny Towers near Chicago.
Michael
May 08, 2009 | Permalink | Comments (1)
A Pew Research Poll on torture reported by CNN on April 30th:
"WASHINGTON (CNN) -- The more often Americans go to church, the more likely they are to support the torture of suspected terrorists, according to a new survey.
More than half of people who attend services at least once a week -- 54 percent -- said the use of torture against suspected terrorists is "often" or "sometimes" justified. Only 42 percent of people who "seldom or never" go to services agreed, according the analysis released Wednesday by the Pew Forum on Religion & Public Life.
White evangelical Protestants were the religious group most likely to say torture is often or sometimes justified -- more than six in 10 supported it. People unaffiliated with any religious organization were least likely to back it. Only four in 10 of them did.
The analysis is based on a Pew Research Center survey of 742 American adults conducted April 14-21."
I sent this out to a number of folks mentioning that if anyone wondered about the connection between theology and ethics and why we here at Preaching Peace focus on theology, they should take news like this into consideration. One of my friends simply replied "disturbing and disgusting." Several others wrote back that they were "not surprised." The good news in this report was that mainline denominations, Episcopalians, Lutherans and Presbyterians, had a much lower rate of the acceptance of torture as a viable method of gaining information from a suspected terrorist.
Denny Weaver once said to a group of folks attending a Nonviolent Atonement Seminar that "theology matters!" Yes it does, even or especially in our postmodern world. The only way Evangelicals and Fundamentalists can support torture is because they have a god who supports it in the sacrificial death of Jesus and in a retributive eschatology. I am tempted to say that Evangelicalism is a heresy but I am certain that Christian Fundamentalism is. How long can we sit around and simply accept the certainty of Fundamentalism? It is not Gospel and it is time to say so. Who knows when the new American Inquisition will arise?
Michael
May 01, 2009 | Permalink | Comments (3)
Last evening my worship team for the class on liturgy I've been taking was assigned the task of leading an Advent service. It's been an oddly disconcerting experience to plan for Advent in the middle of Lent, and then to conduct the service in the midst of Easter, but such is the nature of the academic exercise. What is lovely is that the service wasn't merely an academic exercise at all; in fact, the Holy Spirit put in a surprise appearance. Throughout our many weeks of preparation (you know a "committee" of 7 is going to take forever to get anything done!) we had discussed themes of waiting, yearning, and longing, and I seemed to be the lone voice crying out for pregnancy and birth imagery. An amazing video display of scenes from nature that embodied this theme indirectly had been developed by one of my colleagues as a prelude to worship. An image of a pregnant woman was included on the slides, but much anxiety was expressed as to whether or not it might be offensive in a worship setting. There were other images of fullness and gestation in the service- for example, a lighted chalice was used instead of the customary candles, conveying a marvelous sense of the light within- almost literally a womb of light- reminiscent of the beginning of John's gospel. The decision had been made to freeze the slideshow as worship began, providing a backdrop image behind the altar for the duration of the service. The plan was to pause the video such that a simple image of budding remained on the screen. What happened instead was that two frames were superimposed on one another, something we didn't even know was possible in this age of computer accuracy. The image of a single branch with three pink buds appeared on the screen, and my colleague pressed "pause" to arrest that image as our focal point. Instead of pausing on the budding branch, the image of the pregnant woman appeared beneath the budding branch, giving us a softly focused dual image. We were confronted by a semi-profile view of full pregnancy with the budded branch gracefully over her, a trinitarian pregnancy. For this Advent service, it was an amazingly moving experience, linking Advent to Spring and what is happening all around us right now, not just in the official pre-Christmas season. It was also a reminder that half the earth (at least the southern hemisphere!) customarily celebrates Advent in warm and green surroundings, extending our awareness of the life God brings into places beyond our own back yard.
I found this especially meaningful on a personal note. My father died last week, confronting my family and myself with the experience of death in the season of Easter. This unexpected image of birth and new life in a venue I usually associate with cold and winter was a wonderful bridge; death, no matter how full the life of the deceased, has a stripped down, emptying feeling to it, something we are often eager to leave behind in winter as as we celebrate resurrection life at Easter. The unplanned image on our Advent screen brought the promises of God into new focus, one that I found to be affirming, uplifting, and inspiring. The image didn't last more than a few minutes; the "pause" function on the computer is apparently time limited, and ultimately the program shut down. But the gift was there- for all of us.
I'm not imparting "dividing the Red Sea" miracle status to this incident, but many of us were able to worship in a deeper way because of it and the way God worked through it to touch our end-of-semester hardened hearts. Who knew the Holy Spirit was techno-savvy? She was surely on overdrive last night! Maranatha!
nancy hitt.
April 28, 2009 | Permalink | Comments (0)
I think it must have been Mary McKinney who brought my attention to the Susan Boyle video. Whoever it was, I can't seem to get enough of it, I watch it every day sometimes multiple times. I realize now it is not just her singing but the song she sang from Les Miserables.
Back in the mid 1990's Lorri took me for an anniversary weekend to see the play in New York City. I confess that it was one of the few times in my life I have been redueced to a blubbering mass of tears. The prayer of Jean Valjean at the end had me crying like I had just come from the womb. And perhaps it is memories of that time or the lyrics of the song or Susan's larger than life performance, but I sit here at my computer and shed tears every time I listen. No other artist has touched me as her singing of this song does. Thank you Susan, you give me hope, that an ordinary guy who does his best to follow Jesus just might make a good difference. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Michael
April 23, 2009 | Permalink | Comments (2)
Several of my friends have observed lately that there is a disconnect between peace, peacemaking and rhetoric. Perhaps the most egregious example is labeling. In our postmodern politically correct climate labeling means naming a person or thing or behavior as bad or wrong; it includes sterotyping, pidgeon holing or otherwise assuming that a person can be fully described by a certain word or words.
I find myself in agreement with these concerns. For example, is Obama wrong to shake hands with Chavez? Is Chavez a 'bad' person?' From the perspective of some, concerned with national security, the answer is obviously affirmative. America has enemies and the President should be careful not to cow-tow to it's political enemies. On the other hand is there not a certain hidden (gospel) wisdom in making peace with one's enemies?
Was Bush a 'bad' President? Is the Pope too 'conservative' for the modern world? Is Bernard Madoff to be despised? How about the killers of families or innocents in schools? Are Bill O'Reilly or Rush Limbaugh loud mouthed jackasses? Does it help the situation when we label anyone or anything so as to differentiate them?
I must confess to a certain confliction here. I am reminded of Menninger's Whatever Happened to Sin? In our post modern, post Christian, post everything world, where relativism reigns, where truth is in the eye of the teller, where language games mean that words no longer mean anything, words that offend or critique are eshewed. We have learned that words create worlds, that the N word, for example is racist and indicitive of a racist attitude, that calling people of different sexual orientation the F word indicates a lack of tolerance, etc. I agree.
So how then shall we discuss those things that are for us, improper, incorrect or 'wrong?' How can we name another's behavior without assigning them to a box or worse to some kind of eternal punishment? How shall we use our words to indicate distinctions without our words becoming distractions?
If I find myself in substantive disagreement with someone, how can I describe that disagreement without creating an unbridgeable chasm by labeling them as 'outside?'
I have some thoughts on this. First and foremost is that when I am in disagreement with someone, I must be aware that sometimes that disagreement is on the surface, in fact, it may just be linguistic. Probing deeper, I may find that we are on the same page, just having different ways of describing the same thing. Sometimes this is not the case. When I find myself in major disagreement with someone's behavior or intellectual framework, I am first of all reminded that the gospel calls me to love the Other. This does not mean whitewashing or ignoring the difference. It does mean saying what I mean without being mean. Second, it also means means that I could be wrong and have something new to learn which suggests that humility in the face of the Other is essential to dialogue. Third, it presupposes that I respect the Other enough to leave them in their position no matter how much I disagree with them. I try to persuade but I stay away from cajoling.
Now a final thought that to some will seem completely incongruent with what I have just written. Labels (e.g., conservative or liberal) perform a shorthand function. So if I say I disagree with the conservative doctrine of inspiration, this is shorthand for that particular way of describing the relationship of revelation to language that has a history from the 17th to the 20th centuries and includes many thinkers, nuances and debates. It is not a slight on 'conservatism', it does however, allow for a certain ecomony of thought and words. To say President Obama is a centrist Democrat is the same. Certain uses of words that appear to be labels are just linguistic short-hand. Not all labeling is thus politically incorrect. I think we must learn to distinguish our 'labels' from our 'name-calling.' What do you think?
Michael
April 20, 2009 | Permalink | Comments (2)
As I prepared to preach last week from the John 20:19-31 passage, it occurred to me that we still have one scapegoat safely tucked away in our tradition. The gospels record Jesus greeting 10 of the remaining 11 disciples with "Peace be with you" and then finally catching up with Thomas a week later with the same message of peace. Peter receives his "feed my sheep" dialog of healing with Jesus, Thomas gets a special viewing of the scars of crucifixion, but Judas gets nothing; in the text, he's already hanged himself. He emerges from the expose' of Jesus death and resurrection as the one unredeemed and unredeemable person of all time. The more I thought about this, the more uncomfortable with it I became. The text clearly scapegoats him; John tells us he was a thief before betraying Jesus in addition to telling us that Jesus graced him with the sop immediately prior to his betrayal. Both John and Luke tell us that Satan had a part in Judas' behavior, only Matthew makes it clear that Judas was filled with remorse and tried to undo his acts by trying to return the 30 pieces of silver he had received from the officials. All four gospels and Acts make mention of Judas as the one who betrayed Jesus, Acts giving us another grisly window on his death. When his voice is invoked, it is a voice of criticism toward Jesus. Yet he was chosen by Jesus to be one of the inner circle of 12, and entrusted with their moneybag. I have been told by sincere Christians that Jesus knew from the beginning what was in Judas' heart and just included him so that he (Jesus) could fulfill his fathers will that he die on the cross for our sins. That makes Judas a sitting duck for the god of substitutionary atonement; in order for that god to get his will fulfilled, Judas is needed to do the very thing he did. That creates an odd logic in which Judas is almost as important as Jesus in the drama of the cross and our eventual salvation through it, a logic that requires that we be grateful to Judas. Of course we aren't; our tradition has made it abundantly clear that Judas was evil personified when he betrayed Jesus. For centuries, his is the one of 12 disciples names that few babies have ever received- at least not in memory of him. There are other Judases in scripture, but rarely do we hear about them or expect that one of them is the referent when we hear someone mention Judas. The word has become shorthand for betrayer/double-crosser even in non-Christian circumstances. Until we are able to remember Judas with the same love for our enemies that Jesus prescribed, until we are able to extend love and compassion to him in our story- and it is OUR story, his and yours and mine- then I fear we will be plagued by an undercurrent of permission to scapegoat. The hangman's noose that Judas tied has become a loophole for all of us; we needn't forgive the truly evil act or person.
As I opened my computer to homepage headlines today, I was confronted by a row of 15 crosses memorializing the shooting deaths at Columbine High School 10 years ago. The accompanying article made brief mention of the two shooters, both students at the time, describing them tersely in negative terms. There was no compassion or understanding; certainly nothing that resembled loving ones enemies was extended to them. Like Judas, they, and many other similar shooters, killed themselves. While the text of scripture at least records Judas' remorse, there is no such record for any of these modern day shooters. Their suicides are seen as defiance, not remorse. Somehow we have neglected the option of despair, something that might move us to compassion if we took it seriously. I fear that as Christians, we unconsciously rely on the biblical model of Judas to allow ourselves this exception, this opportunity to vilify and scapegoat those who seem to be such naturals for the part. This is not to say that their actions were anything other than violently evil. It is to say that if we truly take the gospel seriously we cannot allow ourselves the luxury of an exception to the law of love. I don't expect anyone to develop warm fuzzies for any of the perpetrators of mass shootings, nor do I think that it would ever be appropriate to try. I do think that we need to find a neutral ground from which to not condemn and scapegoat them because to do so contributes to the cycle of violence and feeds it's next eruption. In this, perhaps Judas is helpful after all; at least in Matthew it is clear that his remorse is real. If we cannot imagine a worse crime than betraying the Son of God, then Judas' remorse is very important. It is a toe-hold to the understanding that he was included in Jesus words from the cross, "Father, forgive them; they know not what they do." Surely those executing Jesus knew exactly what they were doing; they did not set out on a picnic and find themselves at a surprise execution. They set out to crucify him and they did; when Jesus says they don't know what they're doing, he certainly doesn't mean it literally. His understanding, even in extremis, is that they have no clue as to the full context and meaning of their actions. Surely Judas is included in that prayer; handing Jesus over to the authorities who knew where to find him anyway can be no different than the actions of those who executed him.
Although I can wish that scripture included a scene in which Judas was overtly forgiven and received into Jesus' company in eternity, I think we have an invitation to realize that implicit in Jesus' words from the cross and his last act toward Judas in the Gospel of John. Bestowing the sop was customarily a gesture of honor and respect from the host to his guest. For Jesus to give it to Judas suggests an abiding love for him that supersedes the act of betrayal, especially since John makes it clear that Jesus knew what Judas was up to and made no effort to dissuade him. We need to pay more attention to that act, and recognize it as Jesus practicing what he was preaching. It does not excuse Judas' action nor make something evil into anything good. It is also not an excuse for suggesting that God needed Judas to betray Jesus to fulfill the divine plan. The divine plan is for love to reign, and this scene at the last supper they shared is a window onto what that looks like. The bottom line is: if Jesus loved Judas, who are we to refuse to do what Jesus did?
I know that this requires a reworking of our understanding of the story. It expands it beyond where we usually perceive its' boundaries. It brings the kingdom of God closer, which is really good news for those who have ever betrayed anyone. That's pretty much all of us, even if we're just talking about interpersonal relationships. If we start talking about how we betray Jesus in our lives, we are quickly in deep water.....and isn't the forgiveness of Judas then a very important thing? Our tradition, especially that based on substitutionary atonement models, has deprived us of something vital, and that lack eats away at our hope in the reality of the love and forgiveness of God. If Judas was not forgiven, if his remorse and suicide receive no recognition as repentance, then where do the rest of us stand? Just because we haven't betrayed the Son of God to his death.....oh, wait- we do contribute to that....our fate is linked to Judas, and no amount of loop-holing will really get us around that. Understanding the gospel of Jesus as the gospel of peace means understanding that all scapegoating is violent, destructive, and evil, even when it's directed at Judas. If we're really going to celebrate Easter in it's fullest dimensions of meaning, we need to remember Judas too. We preach that there is no corner of humanity that Jesus did not redeem; that would include Judas and all of ourselves that is like him. Doing so openly and with compassion has the power to eliminate the loophole through which we squeeze our scapegoats; there would be no honest way out for us if we brought Judas in. If we don't eliminate our traditional permission to scapegoat Judas, then we contribute to the vortex of violence out of which Columbine and similarly violent evils come. Let's put this mornings headlines into the category of "no more of this"; proclaim Judas redeemed.
nancy hitt.
April 20, 2009 | Permalink | Comments (3)
For all of you who follow the news, and the latest on Somali pirates, let me tell you of another hijacking. Someone has hijacked our jadedness, our cynicism, our laughter at the scapegoat. For a season, we've been collectively broken open. Who is this pirate? Susan Boyle. Hey, brother blogger, John Mann what are the Scotsfolk saying? With our challenges at understanding her way of speaking on this side of the pond, we're captivated by this your sister Scotswoman!
Thank you, Susan, for hijacking me. I'm on board on a boat few can take. Thank you for making me weep. Next time I'm in a church w/ those stained glass windows of ships, I'll say to myself, YES, there are folks who can take us.
God save the queen, and God bless our new queen of song. Susan, we love you. And as Susan says, "I'm Godsmacked."
April 17, 2009 | Permalink | Comments (3)
