Don’t be Political!

Trajan's Column, Rome
photo by M. Rosborough

 One thing we hear often as criticism of clergy is that we are too political.  They will say.  “Politics and Religion should be separate”, and for the most part United Church ministers avoid preaching about how to vote and who to vote for.  But that is not what our critics mean.  It’s not about keeping our views about conservatives and liberals and other parties a secret from our congregations, it’s about not disturbing the apple cart, not questioning the system, not pushing people to think about poverty or the environment or racism or reconciliation.  One person said that I was being political in my support of masks and public health restrictions, caring more about seniors and so-called fear mongering fake news than I cared about the economy and jobs.

Whenever I hear that, I think about Palm Sunday.  Jesus rode in on a donkey to crowds of cheering people desperate for signs of hope.  This year, I was struck by how he was living according to the anacronym we have been exploring: PIE – public, intentional and explicit.

Riding down the street while crowds cry out for help, that’s pretty public.  Hosanna means ‘save us’ and it is the cry of a desperate people that have felt oppressed for far too long.  “Save us from our feelings of helplessness, save us from our fears of financial ruin and starvation, save us from our anxieties around whether or not we will be able to put food on the table, save us from being bullied and pushed around by roman soldiers and tax collectors.”  Both Jesus and the people are being very public.

Then there’s the intentional part of what Jesus did.  As Robbie pointed out, people didn’t just go around grabbing each other’s donkeys, especially young ones that had never been ridden before.  This doesn’t sound like a snatch and grab, but possibly something Jesus had arranged ahead of time.  It sounds like he knew where the colt was and instructed his disciples in the appropriate response once they were questioned.  Then he rode it down the street where he knew he would be seen and heard by everyone.  He was intentional about when, too, as people had gathered for a festival and had cut branches before they had come.  He knew they would be there, and timed it accordingly.

Lastly, the explicit part.  Jesus was reminding people of all the royal parades and references to scripture and history of other times kings of Jerusalem had ridden into the city for holy events.  In Rome, there would be a parade at the end of every war, with slaves captured and booty raided.  This was something that an authority figure did to remind the citizens of where the power lay.  But Jesus didn’t parade in with soldiers or treasure chests.  He came simply, accompanied by his friends and followers.  He didn’t head to the palace of Herod, king of Israel, to topple his government.  He didn’t storm Pilate’s castle either.  He went straight to the Temple.  He was only interested in challenging that institution and confronting the legalistic attitudes of the people in charge.  I found the last verse especially striking, “he looked around at everything, and then returned back to Bethany”.  It sounds like he was inspecting the place, acting as if he was the principal wandering into a classroom to see how the students and teachers were doing.  Preparing to overturn tables, to teach, and to challenge the Pharisees and Sadducees to theological debates.  

Public, Intentional and Explicit.  Bravo Jesus, for doing all this, but pardon me for saying the obvious, but so what?  I don’t think we’ll be leading parades down main street any time soon, and I’m not planning to ride a colt bareback when I don’t know how to hang on without a rein or saddle, especially one that hasn’t been trained yet!  What’s that got to do with us in today’s culture?

Now more than ever, there is a need for calm, sane Christians to speak up with voices of reason.  All too often stories about pastors and preachers are about the scandals, the arrests for non-compliance, and the grab for headlines.  People with no connection to church may very well think we are a bunch of fringe cultists.  Public voices of reason are vital to getting through our current crisis.  We modern folk can relate to the cries to save us, we too feel oppressed by the current need to do what we can to stay calm in the midst of turbulent times.  We too feel anxious about the variety of opinions about what is the right thing to do to stay healthy.  We hear angry voices calling us names when we try to have a respectful conversation.  We feel sorrow when we hear of tragedy both far away in Rohingya and in our own community like Kelsea Thunder in Cornwall.  We need saving just as much as those first-century folks lining the road and throwing down their coats in front of Jesus to make a pathway fit for a king.  But our faith is helping so many of us stay calm and level-headed.  We need to speak up and let people know when our strength and resilience comes from our faith.

Then there’s intentions, and I remember the old saying, “The road to Hell is paved with good intentions”, but one of the spiritual practices in our Lenten study this week is called the Examen, where we are asked to spend some time each day thoughtfully reflecting on our actions and conversations and whether they were loving towards ourselves or our neighbors.

And being explicit means for us being very clear and articulate that what we do is to the best of our ability in the service of God and neighbor.  A tall order, but we have God’s grace to guide us, empower us and encourage us as we too shout Hosanna, save us.  And God hears us, supports us, and loves us so much that even Good Friday cannot stop God’s love.  Thanks be to God for this very political way of life we are called to be on.  Amen.

Step Away from the Whip!

Lent is a good time for confession and self-reflection.  Stories like our scriptures today remind us to stop a moment and take a good deep look at what we are doing in our lives.  Is it Christian?  Is it Faithful?  Is it Holy?

Jesus comes storming into the Temple on one of the most holy holidays of the year, Passover. He picks up his whip and gets going.  He threatens to destroy the Temple. What a public relations disaster!  Can you imagine what would happen if I waltzed into a basilica or the legislature and tried to do something similar?  Jesus got off pretty easy, he didn’t get tazered or tackled or even arrested. 

I felt a similar surge of anger, or what I imagine was a similar anger last week when someone quoted C. S. Lewis to bolster their message that masks and curfews and vaccines are destroying their right to a turkey dinner in a restaurant with 30 of their closest friends and family.  I felt anger not because their message has changed or that they are completely disregarding the science or dismissing human suffering.  The straw that broke my camel back was that they dared quote C. S. Lewis to justify all this conspiracy spreading!

So naturally, I dived into my collection of Lewis, looking for the passage where he talks about doing what’s best for the neighbor, so if a Catholic and a Protestant worship together, the Catholic would not make the sign of the cross out of respect and consideration for the Protestant, and the Protestant would make the sign of the cross out of respect and consideration for the Catholic.

I didn’t find it.  But I did find a lot about what Lewis says is the deadliest, most tempting sin of all, Pride.  If I go out to do righteous battle with folks who are carrying tiki torches, and I feel a sense of pride in my skill at arguing, or I feel good about how smart I am or even more subtly, I feel happy in how right I am, I am slipping into the sin of Pride.  Who am I to think I can charge in like Jesus did, whip in hand and change the world with my passionate facts thrown at their heads, hoping they will flee like the money changers and make the Internet safe for logic and common sense?  Sure Jesus did that, but I’m no Jesus!

When we set ourselves up as the experts, as the ones with the right answers, and even worse, we pick up our whips made up of facts and opinions and research and set off to beat people over the head in hopes of purifying them, we set ourselves up for the temptation of becoming Proud and Arrogant.  That sounds distinctly unChristlike.  But it’s so tempting to prove that I’m right and you’re wrong.  That I have the right to whip and beat you until you agree that you are bad.

Some of us use big whips, we argue and bluster when there is a crowd listening to us, we have a microphone and a DJ music system to make sure everyone knows what we are saying.  Some of us use small whips, little digs, little criticisms, little put-downs, little complaints and we do it more often.  Someone called it ‘nibbled to death by ducks’, another called it the 5 emotional cancers that can destroy a community slowly from the inside out: 

Criticizing, Complaining, Comparing, Competing, and Contending.

These whips come from a sense of my own inadequacies, my own lack of confidence and are not what God wants for me.  That is what Paul would call the wisdom of the world.  The world believes that we live in a dog-eat-dog society, that we have to be the wisest, smartest, richest, toughest people in order to survive and criticizing others, complaining about them, comparing our possessions or our children’s accomplishments somehow makes us better than our neighbors, that’s the wisdom of the world and Paul says it’s the kind of wisdom that leads to ruin, it destroys lives and even civilizations.

The foolish wisdom of the cross is the real power of God, that God’s wisdom is not in competing to be the best or the smartest person in the room but to be found in small acts of kindness, love and sacrifice.  We are called, in fact, to put down our whips lest we also lose our way.

Sure, Jesus whipped the Temple clean, but it didn’t last long.  There was a system in place that had evolved out of the people’s need to find a guaranteed connection to God.  Pure sacrifices, safe coins without blasphemic images of Caesar on them, anything that would help people feel connected to God.  That system snapped back as soon as he left the building.  

Jesus picked up the whip because he truly loved his community and he loved God and he loved his disciples, but it wasn’t enough.  It would take something more dramatic than the whip to shake up people’s addictions to purity and encourage them to rethink their relationship with God.  It would take the cross.

We are called to reflect very carefully before we pick up a whip.  As Jesus said later in this same gospel, “you who are without sin may throw the first stone.” Too often we think we have the right to change our churches but while the passion may be appropriate, the whip wielding can lead to spreading the cancer, not healing the congregation.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer said it this way, “Those who love their dream of a Christian community more than the Christian community itself become destroyers of that Christian community even though their personal intentions may be ever so honest, earnest, and sacrificial.” 

Jesus transformed the community through the cross, not the whip.  We too, are called to lay down our whips and our pride, and open ourselves humbly to the power of God working in us in love.  Love in the end, is the only power to clean the temples of our lives.  

Help us God as we build a community of thriving, loving and courageous people of faith, filled with your foolish wisdom.  Amen.

Kumbaya Oh Lord!

I remember learning to sing Kumbaya in school and at camp, and it was simple, fun, and open to as many verses as we could come up with. But over the years, Kumbaya has become a symbol of shallow togetherness, artificial peace and pretend harmony.  Everyone gathered around the campfire singing of simple times and not really knowing what the song is about.

So Kumbaya, for better or worse, has gotten a bad rap over the last 10 or 20 years.  And I’d bet that Peter was thinking his time of discipleship with Jesus would be one long singalong campfire joyful healing experience as Jesus and the disciples wandered around from one town to another getting rave reviews and growing their numbers.

Jesus had other ideas and clearly articulated them to his disciples.  That’s when Peter lost it.  He jumped up, pulled Jesus aside and accused him of messing with the mood, of being a Debbie Downer instead of a ra ra leader.

Which led to conflict and what we call ‘a teachable moment’.

Conflict is not a pleasant thing at the best of times.  It leaves us feeling unsettled, squeamish and upset.  I remember when I was little hiding under the sofa with my hands clamped over my ears when my parents had arguments.  But surprisingly, when two ministers of the United Church took a sabbatical in 2019 to study thriving congregations, they found that thriving congregations were not ones of no conflict, singing Kumbaya around the campfire, but ones that did have conflict.  So many congregations, especially since the big splits in the 1980’s and 90’s.  They worry about losing members because of differing opinions.  They avoid conflict at all costs and unfortunately that can cost their ability to thrive and be healthy.

Now I’m not saying that a healthy congregation pulls out the boxing gloves and lets people take a piece out of each other until everyone’s rage is spent, but conflict can be done in loving and respectful ways.  If we try to cover up the rubbing points, it can be like blocking up the spout of a kettle that’s plugged in.  When the water reaches boiling temperature, there’s no where for the steam to go and the kettle explodes.  But if we can be open to communicating that we’re feeling a little hot, we can unplug our kettles before we boil over, and that is what leads to healthier, thriving congregations.

How do thriving congregations handle conflict?  Well, going back to the Mark passage, we see some things that Peter gets right and Jesus gets right, and some things Peter gets wrong and even Jesus messes up.  Who wins in this ancient boxing match?

Jesus states his mission and his values, his goals and his objectives clearly and articulately.  Point to Jesus.  He does so openly to the whole group, no secrets or side conversations.  Another point.

Peter hears something that bothers him, and he decides to talk to Jesus directly.  He doesn’t start rumors or complain to the other disciples behind Jesus’ back, or even stomp off in disgust, which is the equivalent of the kettle blowing up.  He decides to talk to Jesus about it.  That’s a point for Peter.

Peter then pulls Jesus aside and speaks to him quietly, not in public, another point for Peter.  When we correct people in public, especially if that’s the only thing that we do, we are shaming and embarrassing them.  That is not respectful or loving.  So far it’s a tie, Jesus 2 points, Peter 2 points.

But then it goes off the rails into a full-out yelling match.

Peter assumes that he knows what’s best for the group.  Bring out the guitars, he tells Jesus, let’s make this a happy sing along, enough with the gloom and doom.  Peter is not the slightest bit curious as to why Jesus would say what he said.  Peter is not interested in building understanding, only in pushing his agenda.  He loses a point for this. Peter 1, Jesus 2.

Jesus gets mad and lets ‘er rip!  He resorts to name calling, my favorite version is in King James, “Get Thee Behind Me Satan!” So often we see folks resorting to name calling instead of discussing facts.  I certainly see that a lot on the internet.  Labelling is a losing argument.  Jesus loses a point.  Still tied but now it’s 1 point each.

Then Jesus scores two more decisive points.  He gathers everyone together and doesn’t say “Well Peter, you smell like fish, and your fingernails are dirty.  Trim your beard and wash your sailor’s shirt.”  No shaming or blaming here.  Jesus 2 Peter 1.

And Jesus gets the second point by restating and rearticulating his vision and mission.  “It’s not about your comfort or your fame or your happiness.  It’s about the good news of God coming and being here and now for everyone not just the entitled.”  Jesus 3, Peter 1

Peter gains points to finish the match.  He sticks around to listen, he doesn’t stomp off saying “I quit”.  And he really thinks about it.  Tie game.  Or as conflict experts say, “Win win”.  No back stabbing, no gossiping, no nitpicking.  He buys in to the mission and ministry.  He buys into the message.

And what is that message?  That God is coming in the midst of our fears, our loneliness, our isolation, our frustration, our despair.  That the prayer of African American slaves as they were beaten would be heard.  They cried out “Come by here my Lord, Come by here”, “Someone’s praying Lord, come by here”, desperate prayers for freedom, prayers for courage in the face of the Ku Klux Klan carrying torches, and they found the strength and courage to travel all the way here despite such terrible treatment, to make lives for themselves and their children free of slavery and injustice.

Now more than ever we too live in times where courage and strength are needed.  We live in times where Kumbaya is more than a campfire song.  And we live in the knowledge that God is with us, we are not alone, thanks be to God!