Saturday Night Theologian
18 March 2007

Joshua 5:9-12 (first published 21 March 2004)

"Violence"

A voice cries out in the night, a siren wails--
the city sleeps, but uneasily.
Beneath the façade of calm there is unrest.

The sun rises, it shines bright and clear in the blue sky.
It illumines the skyscrapers, the homes, the beaches,
the squalor of townships and squatter camps.
The majestic mountains and the quiet sea cry "Peace!"
but there is no peace--only violence.

It is not the noise of bombs or the marching of feet--
it is the hatred in the heart of the white man for the black,
and the black man for the white.
It is the violence of famine and disease in a land of plenty.

Where is the human dignity when you sleep on the bare earth
in a house of corrugated iron?
Are your dreams those of your oppressor:
wealth, ease, recognition?
Or do you dream of shelter from the cold,
shoes for your feet, food for your next meal?
Do you long for the day of wrath that is coming?

Violence begets violence--it spreads like a plague.
It cannot be halted, only slowed.
It will not be extinguished with more violence, only heightened.
Is peace simply the lack of bloodshed, or is it much more?

The sun moves across the sky and sets in the sea.
Darkness replaces light, and somehow, it seems appropriate.
I wrote this poem about fifteen years ago while living in Cape Town, South Africa. Despite the relative calm of the city, violence--particularly institutional violence--was all around me. It was oppressive, and I knew it couldn't endure, but I worried that people would try to use violent means to overthrow the evil apartheid system. In fact, there were isolated instances of violence over the years by opponents of the system, though the number and magnitude of the violence paled in comparison with the violence of the all-white establishment. Then something miraculous happened. About the middle of 1989, that amazing year which saw the collapse of communist dictatorships in Eastern Europe and the fall of the Berlin Wall, people took to the streets in Cape Town, then elsewhere in South Africa. Huge, peaceful demonstrations by citizens--black, white, coloured, and Indian alike--demanded an end to apartheid and the installation of truly representative government. The South African people emerged from centuries of slavery and asserted their rights as human beings. In today's reading from Joshua, the Israelites have entered the promised land, and God tells them, "Today I have rolled away from you the disgrace of Egypt." Slavery, racism, sexism, homophobia, poverty, and institutionalized prejudice of all sorts are modern disgraces of oppression which hold too many people in bondage, both oppressed and oppressors. The first step in rolling away the disgrace of oppression is to recognize and name the oppression for what it is, something that is preventing the full realization of an individual's or group's humanity. The second step is to begin to struggle against oppression, either from underneath (as a member of the oppressed class) or from above (as a member of the oppressing class) or from the outside (as one who sees the oppression of someone else and strives to remedy it; a warning: many of us consider ourselves outside observers of oppression, but it is often the case that we are in fact part of the system of oppression, and it is important that we realize that.) Frederick Douglass, in his autobiographical account of his early life as a slave and his escape, says, "I was no longer content, therefore, to live with him or any other slaveholder. I began, with the commencement of the year, to prepare myself for a final struggle, which should decide my fate one way or the other." The third step is to join with others who are also struggling against injustice and become part of a movement for change. The longing to be free is innate in all people, and it is what God desires for all humankind. Once we roll away our own disgrace of Egypt, whatever it might be, we need to stand with others who are seeking to do the same.

Psalm 32 (first published 21 March 2004)

After institutionalized racism became a thing of the past in South Africa in 1990, the government set up the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, headed by Nobel Laureate Desmond Tutu, which began operating in 1995. The commission was based on the novel idea of giving people the opportunity to confess their sins publicly and then forgiving them. Some people called for punishment for those who were guilty of countless atrocities against others, saying that justice demanded it. But Archbishop Tutu countered by saying that the nation needed healing, and healing could best be brought about by tempering justice with mercy. However, Tutu realized that a blanket pardon to all wrongdoers would not mend the harm that racial discrimination had inflicted on the society for hundreds of years. Wrongdoers would have to recount their sins publicly in order to receive forgiveness. After more than two years of testimony, in 1998 the Truth and Reconciliation Commission released its report, detailing acts of violence and other criminal behavior by former prime ministers, the head of the national police force, and government scientists, as well as by Winnie Mandela and members of the African National Congress. South Africa had transformed itself from a oppressive regime ruled by a small minority into an open, fully democratic society, through nonviolent means. The wisdom of Archbishop Tutu's approach is now evident to all, and the value of confession for promoting national catharsis is undisputable. The psalmist says, "Then I acknowledged my sin to you, and I did not hide my iniquity; I said, 'I will confess my transgressions to the Lord,' and you forgave the guilt of my sin." Our natural tendency when we sin is to try to hide it from others, just as Adam and Eve hid in the garden from God. We think that if we can only conceal what we've done, everything will be all right. The problem with our logic is twofold. First, our sins often hurt other people, and we need to be reconciled to them. Second, even if others never find out what we've done, our sins remain a burden on our own consciences until we confess them and receive forgiveness. Unfortunately, even the church does not always encourage confession. Several years ago I did a survey of the psalm passages that were in the responsive readings in my denominational hymnal. Only one psalm, Psalm 51, was included that had words of confession. Those of us in the free church tradition need to learn from those who attend liturgical churches the importance of confession. As significant as ritualized corporate confession can be, however, even more important is individual confession when we have wronged someone else. Confession helps us cleanse ourselves of guilt, and it opens the door to reconciliation with our neighbors, and even with our enemies.

2 Corinthians 5:16-21

John Hagee, megachurch pastor and ardent supporter of the State of Israel, thinks the U.S. needs to bomb Iran. James Dobson, right-wing Christian political commentator, is reportedly becoming "increasingly concerned" about Iran's threat to Israel, in part based on his reading of Ezekiel 38-39, the Gog and Magog prophecies. Hagee recently compared Iran to Nazi Germany and Iranian president Mahmoud Ahmedinejad to Hitler. (Wasn't it only a few years ago that Iran's mortal enemy Iraq was Nazi Germany, and Saddam Hussein was Hitler?) Although it is obvious to any unbiased, casual observer that Iran can hardly be compared to Nazi Germany, Hagee and other leaders of the religious right are adamant about the threat. They are worried, they say, that Israel will be attacked with nuclear weapons. Their great concern for Israel, however, is really a smokescreen, for their true goal, according to their dispensational theology, is to instigate events that will precipitate the apocalyptic battle of Armageddon, a battle that will engulf the entire Middle East and result in the destruction of millions of lives, in Israel as well as in Muslim countries. Christians, of course, will have been safely removed from the scene by the Rapture, which will happen before events turn too serious. Hagee, Dobson, and others--all of whom also supported the war on Iraq, which "unfortunately" has not yet resulted in Armageddon--openly advocate the wholesale slaughter of tens of thousands, perhaps millions of people, all on the basis of bad theology. Dispensationalism is a nineteenth century invention of British pastor J. N. Darby. It is based on the idea that God has divided history into a number of distinct dispensations, or ages, and the final dispensation, the Millennium, is just around the corner, awaiting only the Rapture (another recent dispensationalist invention) and the final, seven-year period of Tribulation. Although it is certainly possible to hold to dispensationalist theology without being a warmonger, too many Christian leaders who hold to this theology are in fact advocates of war in the Middle East. Their attitude toward war is definitive proof that their theological understanding is dead wrong, for the clear teaching of the New Testament is that Christians are called to be peacemakers. In today's reading from 2 Corinthians, Paul puts it this way: "We are ambassadors for Christ," and "[God] has given us the ministry of reconciliation." How is it possible to reconcile people to God while supporting their wholesale slaughter? Answer: It's not. How can we call ourselves Christ's ambassadors while supporting policies that foment war rather than peace? Answer: We can't. Jesus taught his disciples to be peacemakers, not warmongers. Jewish members of the pro-Israel lobby in the U.S. frequently attend meetings with Christians like Hagee, who claim to support Israel, and many Christian groups funnel large amounts of money to Israel, but both Israelis and Jews in the U.S. and elsewhere had better be careful, for their erstwhile supporters support policies that will ultimately harm Israel, not help it. Furthermore, since their ultimate goal is the mass conversion of all Jews, their objectives are hardly compatible. Several months ago, Hagee spelled out his rationale for an attack on Iran as follows: "The United States must join Israel in a pre-emptive military strike against Iran to fulfill God's plan for both Israel and the West ... a biblically prophesied end-time confrontation with Iran, which will lead to the Rapture, Tribulation ... and Second Coming of Christ." From an authentic Christian perspective, it is crucial to remember that while there is plenty of room for debate over many matters of theology, the call for Christians to be ministers of reconciliation to God is clear. Theologies that allow Christians to support war in order to trigger Armageddon are both misguided and detrimental to the progress of Christianity.

Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32 (first published 21 March 2004)

As difficult as reconciliation between citizens of rival nations or different ethnic groups is, sometimes the problems between members of the same family seem the most intractable. Because families spend so much time together, particularly when children are young, they naturally tend to develop close relationships. When those relationships are severed, the breach between the aggrieved family members sometimes seems like a chasm that is too wide to cross. In the first Home Alone movie (the only one that was worthwhile, in my opinion), Kevin talks to his next-door neighbor, a lonely old man who had a fight with his son several years earlier and no longer speaks to him. Though the man longs to be reconciled to his son, he lacks the courage to initiate the contact with him, because he is afraid that his son might reject him. Kevin suggests that he go ahead and call his son. Maybe he'll want to get together as well, and if not, at least the man would know and not have to worry about it any more. That's pretty good advice from an eight-year-old. In the story that Jesus told about the prodigal son, the son, after having demanded his inheritance early and wasted it on profligate living, longs for the comforts and relationships of home. However, he is worried about how his father will respond. "Maybe he'll reject me altogether. Maybe he'll let me come home but despise me. Maybe he already considers me to be dead." These were probably some of the thoughts going through his head, yet in desperation he resolved to go home anyway, regardless of the consequences. Sometimes wisdom is found in acts of desperation. Contrary to his expectations, his father runs to greet him and welcomes him with honor. However, even though he's been reconciled to his father, he is still at odds with his older brother, who resents him. The way Jesus tells the story, it is evident that he is equating the older brother with many of those who are listening to him. "You are basically good people," he tells them. "You love God, you keep his commandments, and you play by the rules. Yet you have a problem accepting those who aren't like you. But if God accepts them, so should you." I'm lucky enough to get along pretty well with all of my family, but I've known children who were estranged from their parents and people who hadn't talked to their siblings in years. Sometimes disputes among family member erupt over the stupidest things. There was a story in the paper this week about a local couple who went to see The Passion of the Christ, got into a theological argument on the way home, and began beating each other when they got home. Both husband and wife called the police on their spouse, and the police arrested both and charged them with assault. Few of us would think about getting into a heated argument with a total stranger over a fine point of theology, but we might do so with our closest relatives, even if we forego criminal assault. Sometimes disputes arise between family members over lifestyle choices, or choices of a marriage partner, or even theological leanings. I knew a very religious father who couldn't forgive his son for leaving the church and "living a life of sin," as the father described it. God gives us family to love and support, even when we don't agree with them. In the movie Lilo and Stitch, Stitch says, "Ohana means family, and family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten." And that's pretty good advice from a space alien.