Saturday Night Theologian
10 September 2006

Isaiah 35:4-7a

Mired in one of the worst droughts of the century, our area received the first measurable rain in about two months earlier this week, along with cooler temperatures (if you can call low to mid 90s cool!). The dry ground soaked up more than an inch of rain, and every living thing seemed glad to get it. Even the somewhat damp dogs in the back yard were full of energy because of the rain. Little sprigs of grass are peeping their heads through the brown mat of dead grass on top, showing signs of life for the first time in months. The drought hasn't ended because of an inch of rain, but it's a start. When the prophet talks about waters breaking forth in the wilderness and streams in the desert, I know what he's talking about, because I can see the land around me calling out for water. Sometimes God's people feel the same way, and of course that's the point of the prophecy. When we've been in the wilderness for awhile, we need the taste of cool water to remind us that our sojourn in the desert is just temporary. The pendulum of fashion swings fast, the pendulum of politics a little slower, and the pendulum of religion slower still, but change is inevitable. No, all change isn't for the better, but when you're in the midst of a drought, how much drier can it get? God doesn't abandon people of faith, and even in the desert God can lead us to oases and springs of water to sustain us until we're able to leave the desert and enter the promised land. In the meantime, while we're on our desert journey, the prophet reminds us, "Be strong, do not fear!"

Psalm 125

The president and administration officials have been making political speeches this week in which they compare Muslim extremists like Osama bin Laden and President Ahmadinejad of Iran to Adolf Hitler and Benito Mussolini. Unless the U.S. and the Western world stands up to these threats rather than appeasing them, President Bush says, the world is in danger of enduring a period much like the spread of fascism in the 1930s. While I agree that bin Laden is very dangerous, I don't think he poses the threat to the world that Hitler did. And while I would like to see someone more moderate than Ahmadinejad in power in Iran, I don't think Iran compares at all favorably--in terms of military might--with Nazi Germany. The psalmist says, "The scepter of wickedness shall not rest on the land allotted to the righteous." He doesn't say, however, that every ruler will be perfect, or even close to it. The fact of the matter is that almost all rulers in the world today, or who have been in power during the past fifty years, have had tendencies toward both wickedness and evil, in varying quantities. Even the best leaders have had a blind spot where wickedness was allowed to flourish, and even the worst leaders did a few good things for their people. The president's rhetoric may be exaggerated, but he is not alone in overblowing his opponents' threats. The president's adversaries on the political left sometimes compare him with Hitler, just as Bill Clinton's adversaries sometimes claimed that he was a murderer. Bush is no Hitler, and neither is Saddam Hussein, Osama bin Laden, or Ahmadinejad. It is counterproductive for us to continue to insult our adversaries through name-calling, as if they were completely evil, the "scepter of wickedness." To demonize our opponents, by comparing them with Hitler, for example, solves no problems and overemphasizes their faults. The psalm ends with a cry for peace to Israel, a cry that is far from being realized, either in the modern state of Israel or in much of the rest of the world. Peace is possible, but it won't come about through the barrel of a gun or by dropping bombs on our adversaries. Peaceful actions are much more likely to beget peace than violent actions. If we want to see peace in the world, it's time to stop worrying about who might be carrying the "scepter of wickedness" and start paying attention to the voice of God speaking to us in other ways, even perhaps through our enemies.

James 2:1-10, (11-13), 14-17

Martin Luther is well known for his insistence that the Old Testament books not found in the Hebrew Bible used by the Jews--that is, the Apocrypha--be excluded from the Christian canon. Less well known is the fact that he also urged that certain New Testament books be rejected as having less authority than the others. He set his sights particularly on the book of James, which he called "an epistle of straw." His chief complaint was James's understanding of the value of faith and works and their relationship to salvation. For Luther, Paul's statement that salvation was by faith alone was normative, while James's insistence that faith be accompanied by works was a form of legalism that contradicted Paul. Although the Reformers rejected Luther's call for James to be omitted from the New Testament, the Protestant orthodoxy that developed in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries made faith the lone requirement, on the human side, for salvation. The Catholic church, at the Council of Trent, held onto James's insistence that works accompany faith. Both Protestants and Catholics in recent decades have expressed their understanding of faith and works, and their relationship with the grace of God, in terms that take in aspects of both Paul and James, so that the positions of Catholicism and mainstream Protestantism of this point are now very close. Were Paul and James really that far from each other in their understanding of faith? Certainly there were differences of emphasis, and perhaps even of substance, but at the end of the day I see James as a clarification of Paul rather than a contradiction. Furthermore, James's point that good works prove the validity of faith reflects the teachings of Jesus in the gospels. Let's face it: it's easy for a person to say he or she has faith, but it's another thing entirely to demonstrate that faith through concrete actions. It has become fashionable since the late 1970s for American politicians to parade their religion before the voters and to emphasize that they are people of faith. The public, and especially the media, has too often bought the politicians' claims hook, line, and sinker, without asking tough questions. How has faith changed your life? What specific actions do you take to prove that your faith is valid? Just holding to a particular set of theological beliefs, going to church regularly, or even giving a testimony about the bad habits you've given up isn't enough to demonstrate true faith. True religion, as James reminds us, involves the care for the poor and adopting a lifestyle that reflects well on the God we serve. If politicians are going to ask us to vote for them on the basis of their religious affiliations, it's time we held them accountable for how their proposed policies affect the poor, the marginalized, the undocumented, the sick, and the members of unpopular minorities. Taking care of the needs of people like these do not demonstrate a faith that is set on a shelf and taken down periodically to show to people, it demonstrates a faith that works.

Mark 7:24-37

One of the characteristics of the Gospel of Mark is its preservation of more primitive traditions about Jesus. The traditions in question are more primitive in the sense that they reflect earlier formulations of the stories about Jesus than the later gospels--Matthew, Luke, and John--do. The story of Jesus' healing of the deaf man is a good example of this fact. In Mark, Jesus performs rituals including putting his fingers in the deaf man's ears, touching the man's tongue with his own saliva, and uttering what might be considered an incantation. When Matthew, who used Mark as a template, came to this point in the narrative, he eliminated the individual deaf man, along with Jesus' specific healing procedures, and produced a version of the story that has Jesus healing many people (Matthew 15:29-31). Matthew's decision to eliminate the salient features of Mark's healing story apparently resulted from a concern that the story could be used by Christianity's enemies to prove that Jesus was a sorcerer, similar to others who lived in the ancient world, and that was how he healed people. Mark, writing at an earlier stage in Christianity's development, and for a different audience, had no such qualms about the story. The difference manners of telling this story raise the question of how Christians today should relate the good news to those around us. Sometimes the gospel may appear harsh or unintelligible to people, and we may decide that we need to soften the message somewhat. There are situations in which it might be appropriate to do so, but we should only do so with great care. While we don't want to turn people off from Christianity, it is better to turn people off than to dilute the Christian message. A story in the newspaper this week describes the dilemma that Zoroastrians face as their numbers worldwide continue to dwindle, from a historic high of more than 50 million to today's low of less than 200,000. Some Zoroastrians say that only direct, biological descendants of Zoroastrians should be admitted to the fold, while others advocate accepting converts, the adopted children of Zoroastrians, and the children of mixed marriages (i.e., Zoroastrians with non-Zoroastrians). The question is, what is essential to the religion? Christians don't face a similar demographic crisis, since there are more than 2 billion current adherents to the faith, but we constantly face the question of what face we want to put on Christianity, and how we want to present Jesus to the world. Do we present a kind and gentle Jesus, the good moral teacher of 19th century liberal Christianity? Do we present a harsh, autocratic ruler, as Jesus was often portrayed in the Middle Ages? Do we present a Jesus who rewards the faithful with wealth and sides with Western democracies against their enemies, as Jesus is often presented to churchgoers in the U.S. and elsewhere today? Another look at Mark's story of Jesus healing the deaf man reminds us that the Jesus we follow doesn't easily fit into categories, either ancient or modern. Yes, he had certain characteristics of a sorcerer, but he always gave credit to God rather than himself for his healings. He was an enigma in his own day--hence the impetus of both Jewish and Roman leaders to sideline and ultimately kill him--and he remains an enigma today. Those who advocate war claim to be followers of Jesus, and do those who strive for peace. Those who oppose homosexual rights claim Jesus' sanction for their position, as do those who champion equality for homosexuals. There are no simple answers; if there were, there wouldn't be such disagreement among Christians today. Nevertheless, it is our duty as Christians to seek out the answers, in the pages of scripture, in Christian history, in theology, and in our understanding of God's illumination in our hearts today. The message of Jesus is as valid today as it ever way. It is our job to bring it faithfully and without reservation to the modern world.