Saturday Night Theologian
25 December 2005

Isaiah 9:2-7

Islam burst upon the world in the early seventh century as a religion whose beliefs were backed up by force of arms, if persuasion and other nonviolent methods didn't work. Muhammad's resort to arms was clearly not his first choice, but he felt that armed warfare was forced upon him by his opponents, who persecuted him and his followers. Islam swept over much of the Middle East, Northern Africa, and extreme Eastern and Western Europe in the succeeding centuries, before its expansion was checked and eventually reversed in Europe. Despite its somewhat bellicose origins, many Muslims today reject the use of arms as a means of promoting Islam. In sharp contrast to the origins of Islam, Christianity began among powerless inhabitants of Judaea and Galilee and quickly spread throughout the surrounding regions, chiefly among the lower classes. Early Christians rejected violence as incompatible with the teachings of Jesus, but this point of view changed for many Christians when Christianity became the favored, and then the official, religion of the Roman Empire and subsequent political entities. The Christian bent toward warfare reached its zenith (or rather, its nadir) during the Crusades, when so-called Christian troops unleashed violence against Muslims, Jews, and even other Christians. Today many Christians continue to argue that their countries' martial activities are fully in line with the teachings of Christ, but a look at one of the prophecies in the Hebrew Bible that early Christians appropriated as foundational to their understanding of Jesus belies the easy justification of war and violence. "For all the boots of the trampling warriors and all the garments rolled in blood shall be burned as fuel for the fire." Isaiah announced the end of the age of warfare, envisioning a time of peace that would begin with the advent of a new king to the throne. The throne names given to this new king reflect the kind of God that the prophet recognized, and whose characteristics would be reflected by the king himself. "Wonderful Counselor" describes a God whose wisdom surpasses that of the greatest men and women of any age. "Mighty God" is an apt description of the God who controls the universe. "Eternal Father" describes a God whose parental concern for humanity never ceases. "Prince of Peace" suggests both the end result of the divine reign and the means by which that reign is achieved. Traditionally, Christianity has identified Jesus with these titles, especially the last one, Prince of Peace, despite the long tradition of making war with a long list of enemies, which often include other Christians. Is the title "Prince of Peace" meaningful for Christians today, or is it simply an empty slogan, a phrase that we toss about at Christmas then ignore as we continue blithely to wage war on our enemies? I have some reason to hope that large numbers of Christians are awakening to the realization that Christianity and warfare are incompatible with one another. Despite the support for war on Iraq that some Christian leaders and many ordinary Christians in America gave in 2002 and 2003, many other Christians, both in America and especially abroad, stood firmly against aggressive wars (euphemistically called "preemptive wars") as a proper tool of foreign policy. Revelations that the case for war was built on faulty intelligence and outright lies has increased the outcry among ordinary Christians--as well as many from other faith backgrounds--against the war in Iraq in particular and against war in general. Perhaps now, against the backdrop of the Christmas season, other Christians will be reminded that the founder of Christianity, the person whose teachings we claim to follow, came to be the Prince of Peace, and no political or economic or nationalistic rationale can justify setting aside a central tenet of Jesus' own teachings: love your enemies.

Psalm 96

The late eighteenth century saw two significant political upheavals that were harbingers of changes to come throughout the world. The first, the American Revolution, pitted disgruntled colonists in the New World against their British overlords. In addition to decrying taxation without representation, Americans called into question the right of European powers to rule over people who were born and now lived on a different continent, and they opposed a number of measures that they saw as repressive, such as quartering large numbers of troops in the colonies. The second upheaval was the French Revolution. Unlike events in America, the French Revolution pitted the lower and middle classes against the ruling elite. The characteristic slogan of the French Revolution was "Liberty, Equality, Fraternity." Despite the differences, both revolutions shared one important principle: opposition to an absolute monarch. Although the rise of the absolute monarch in Europe during the early modern period offered some advantages over the political systems that had preceded it (e.g., feudalism and ecclesiastical rule), the common people had come to see the monarchy as an instrument of oppression as well. The anti-authoritarian ideas of the American and French Revolutions spread throughout the world and led to dramatic changes in government, first in other parts of Europe, then in Latin America, and eventually in Africa and Asia as well. In an age when few absolute monarchs (or dictators) continue to reign, how can modern people relate to a God who is described using such language? "Say among the nations, 'The Lord is king!'" There are two keys to overcoming the negative connotations of this language. First, we have to realize that all language about God is anthropomorphic. God was described in the Hebrew Bible using terms that were also used of human rulers of the day. Second, we need to realize that the characteristics of God's reign are more important than the actual terms used to describe God. When God is in control, according to the psalmist, the world is characterized by justice and truth. A world of justice is one in which, among other things, everyone begins life with equal opportunities, where poverty and hunger are eliminated, and where laws and customs do not favor one group of people over another. A world of truth is one in which everyone has the right to pursue truth as they understand it and the responsibility to speak the truth at all times. Our current world is far from being either just or truthful in many ways, but on the other hand human society has made great strides over where we were in centuries past. If we envision a world in which God reigns, we will not envision a theocracy, in which one group's understanding of God is rammed down the throats of others, but a world of true religious liberty, commitment to basic human rights, and structures that implement justice rather than inequality. That is a world to which all believers can commit themselves to aspire.

Titus 2:11-14

I was watching the recent Christmas episode of Monk recently, which began with a Christmas party at the police station. There was music, dancing, wine, funny hats, and general carrying on, and I thought to myself, I've never had an office Christmas party like that! I certainly see the dangers in excess at such a party, because I was raised in a Christian tradition that saw dancing and especially drinking as sins. Even though I've moved beyond that narrow view of right and wrong, I still find myself occasionally wondering if I've missed something of the joy of life. Today's reading from Titus might tend to reinforce the narrower view of life, at least at first glance. The passage advises Christians to "renounce impiety and worldly passions, and in the present age to live lives that are self-controlled, upright, and godly," striving instead to become a people "who are zealous for good deeds." OK, then, I guess my prior training was right. God doesn't want us enjoying life too much, preferring us to live like Stoics, completely under self-control at all times. But is that really the implication? If we look at the life of Jesus himself, we see a different picture. When Jesus went to a wedding, there was no chance of the wine running out. He wasn't particular about the parties he attended; whether they were thrown by the rich or the poor, the righteous or the sinners, he was there. His last meal was the Passover feast, which he celebrated with his disciples. It seems clear that Jesus enjoyed life and that he wanted his followers to enjoy life, too. It's a shame that people turn away from Christianity because they see it as a religion of "thou shalt nots." Yes, dangerous excesses should still be avoided, but that doesn't mean that we can't enjoy life. Jesus taught us that there are times to indulge and times to abstain, but both are important in life. Christmas is a time of great celebration, a time when we remember God's greatest gift to humankind. As we strive to be zealous for good deeds, let us also remember to enjoy life along the way.

Luke 2:1-14, (15-20)

If you knew a secret that you thought was really great news, and you were allowed to tell only ten people, whom would you tell? You'd probably start with family members, but suppose that family members, friends, and acquaintances were excluded, whom would you tell then? In the Gospel of Luke, God has a secret that's just too good to keep. Who to tell, who to tell? There's the emperor, Caesar Augustus, but would he really care? Herod's another, unmentioned possibility, but he might have been jealous (in Matthew's version of the story he was). How about the religious leaders in Jerusalem? The problem there is that this birth might not have fit in very well with their view of theology. No, it should be a group of people for whom the birth of a savior was really welcome. So it was that a chorus of angels appeared to a band of startled shepherds, tending their sheep under the Judaean stars. Why entrust shepherds with such a secret? Shepherds were among the poorest of the poor, eking out a living tending sheep that belonged to someone else. They were uneducated, illiterate, and unaware of the finer points of the Jewish law. They were people without power, marginalized within the society, and they were just the sort of people for whom the birth of a savior would be good news. Good news!--God cares for the lowly as much as for the powerful! Good news!--God chose a family of low birth to proclaim the message of divine love for all! Good news!--God will reverse the fortunes of the poor, the weak, and the destitute! Does the church today proclaim the same good news that the angels sang two thousand years ago? Can the world see past the tinsel and the gold ornaments, the toys and the games, even the carols and the parties? Can people see the hope that was born in a stable, whose first meal was taken in the midst of cattle and donkeys, whose first bed was a horse trough? Can it see the promise that was foretold to a small group of shepherds, as well as to the baby's family? Is the world today aware of God's little secret?