Isaiah 9:1-4 (first published 23 January 2005)
In his second inaugural address, President Bush spoke a lot about
freedom. He said that over the past fifty years Americans have "defended
our own freedom by standing watch on distant borders." To which distant
borders is he referring? Certainly Afghanistan and Iraq, but also Korea,
Guatemala, Iran, Vietnam, Chile, Nicaragua, Granada, Panama, Bosnia,
Kosovo, Somalia. . . . The list goes on and on.
"Defending freedom" has become a euphemism for "looking out for number
one," and as the president noted, it is not just a recent phenomenon. In
the eighth century B.C.E. the Assyrian Empire expanded its borders south
and west, incorporating under its direct control the provinces of Dur (the
Way of the Sea), Galazu (the land beyond the Jordan), and Magidu (Galilee
of the nations). It carved these provinces out of the land of Israel,
specifically, out of the land associated with the ancient tribes of
Zebulon and Naphtali. Probably writing shortly after the fall of Israel,
the prophet Isaiah writes to the people of Judah, whose king, Hezekiah,
had visions of a land that extended to the borders of the kingdom of David
and Solomon, one that included the areas now under the control of the
Assyrians. The people of those lands, he says, have suffered greatly
under the imperialist policies of Assyria, but hope remains. "The yoke of
their burden, and the bar across their shoulders, the rod of their
oppressor, you have broken as on the day of Midian," says the prophet.
Isaiah sees God as the champion of the oppressed, one who offers freedom
from their enemies. What is freedom? The Soviet Union invaded
Afghanistan in 1979, ostensibly in an effort to bring freedom to its
people. The U.S. sent hundreds of thousands of troops into Vietnam for
the same stated purpose. In 2003 President Bush sent American armed
forces into Iraq under the banner of Operation Iraqi Freedom. Did the
Afghanis, the Vietnamese, or the Iraqis welcome such efforts to bring them
freedom? Undoubtedly there were some who did, at least at first, but as
foreign occupation wore on and promises of a better life kept retreating
into the distant future, the tide of public opinion turned more and more
strongly against the invading armies. It happened in Afghanistan and in
Vietnam, and it is happening again in Iraq. Even putting the most
positive spin on the motivations of the invading army, how can one justify
the mayhem, carnage, and suffering that have resulted from these attempts
to establish freedom? Maybe the problem is that the definition of freedom
that imperial powers use is not the same as that imagined by the masses of
the oppressed in distant lands. Look again at Isaiah. What the people
long for, he says, is the removal of the yoke, the bar, the rod of
military oppression, not the substitution of one oppressive ruler for
another. Moreover, Isaiah suggests that the people long to rule
themselves, on their own terms. The problem that the inhabitants of
Galilee had wasn't that they were ruled, it was that they were ruled by a
foreign power. Foreigners, even those with the best of intentions, have a
hard time understanding the culture, the language, the religion, and the
aspirations of the people whose land they occupy. On top of that, there
is the yearning of all people to make their own way. If they want to be
capitalists, fine; if they want to be communists, fine; if they want to
try a different approach to economic policy, fine. People don't want
outside ideas imposed upon them. There are some basic human rights that
all rulers (including imperial rulers) must follow, but within those
parameters there is much room for experimentation. Let people figure out
for themselves what system of government they want. Let them determine
for themselves whether their current borders make sense, or whether
existing borders should be eliminated (a la Germany) or new borders
should be created (a la the Czech Republic and Slovakia). Above
all, freedom implies religious liberty, the ability to worship God--or
not--according to one's own understanding and conscience. Over the next
four years, may our nation support true freedom around the world, freedom
as the citizens of the world themselves see it, and may Christians lead
the way as advocates for freedom.
Psalm 27:1, 4-9 (first
published 23 January 2005)
One of the primary differences between fundamentalist and progressive
Christians is the attitude toward theology, or knowledge of God.
Fundamentalists believe that there is a set of propositional truths that
cannot be questioned if one is to remain a true Christian. Christians are
urged, or sometimes required, to pledge allegiance to these truths, and
their acceptance is a measure of faithfulness to God. Progressive
Christians, on the other hand, reject a fixed set of propositional truths
that must be accepted by all. Individual Christians or congregations may
well have a set of beliefs to which they adhere, but they do not make
acceptance of their particular set of beliefs a requirement for being
recognized as a Christian. The difference between these two approaches to
theology is apparent in the contrasting terminology: fundamentalists talk
about truths; progressives talk about beliefs. It is not that progressive
Christians don't believe in truth, it is just that they are skeptical that
their understanding of the truth is complete or universal, either
geographically or chronologically. The psalmist describes his chief
desire as being allowed to abide in God's house all the days of his life,
to behold the beauty of God, and to inquire in God's temple. The word
translated "inquire" could also be rendered "examine," "investigate," or
"consider." Whatever the exact nature of the psalmist's desire, it
involves using the mind to approach God. There is no implication that the
psalmist has a fixed list of truths to which he wants to pay homage in the
temple. On the contrary, he portrays himself as one who does not already
have all the answers to life's questions. In this week's Christian
Century, the editors discuss the theological implications of last
month's disastrous tsunami in the Indian Ocean. "To say the event reminds
us of our finitude or our inability to control nature is to mumble
platitudes. To say God willed such devastation for some greater reason is
to administer a theological slap to the tear-stained faces of all who
mourn, especially the parents who mourn their drowned children. To say
God was powerless to do anything to stop the disaster may make the divine
seem less monstrous, but it leaves us with no God worthy of the name."
Spouting "propositional truths" like "God is omnipotent" and "God is love"
in response to the big question--WHY?--reveals the shallowness of such an
approach to the divine. Real life isn't black or white, good or evil,
right or wrong. Real life is shades of gray and ambiguity, and any
theology that doesn't recognize that is both simpleminded and impotent.
Christians should always be seeking to know God better, seeking to
understand the ways of God more fully. However, we should also realize
that our understanding of God will always be clouded by our limited
intellects and our blinkered worldviews. We can grow in our understanding
of God not by accepting some predefined, cookie-cutter theology, but only
by intense reflection, contemplation, and inquiry. Understanding of the
divine comes not through memorization of statements about God but through
prayerful consideration of God's world and God's work in that world.
1 Corinthians 1:10-18 (first
published 23 January 2005)
Suicide car bombers today in Iraq killed more than 20 people. Since
most of the victims were Shiites, it is likely that the bombers were
Sunnis. Iraq is a land that has been ruled by Sunnis for centuries, even
though the majority of the population, like its neighbor Iran, is Shiite.
One sect of the religion making war on another is not limited to Islam.
Catholic and Protestant Christians have been killing each other for years
in Northern Ireland, although a tenuous peace is now in place and may
finally be taking hold. Factional differences don't always lead to war,
of course. Often differences between two groups of the same religion lead
"merely" to oppression, prejudice, or excommunication. Christian factions
go back at least as far as the mid-fifties of the first century, when they
were present in the church in Corinth. Immediately after the opening
greetings to the church, Paul admonishes the members not to divide into
warring factions. There were apparently two main groups, those allied to
Paul on the one hand and Apollos on the other. Whether there were also
"Cephas" and "Jesus" groups, or whether Paul invented these merely for the
sake of rhetoric, is debatable. The origins of the first two groups is
easy to trace. Paul himself was one of the founders of the church in
Corinth, and he stayed in the city for a year and half after his arrival.
Later, an Alexandrian Christian named Apollos came to Corinth and helped
lead the church. The nature of the differences between Paul's and
Apollos's teachings are never specified, but one can imagine that Paul,
who thought of himself as "a Pharisee of the Pharisees" and was a disciple
of the eminent Palestinian rabbi Gamaliel might have had several
differences in doctrine or approach from the Alexandrian Jew Apollos, who
was likely schooled in the allegorical approach to scripture of Philo of
Alexandria. It is instructive to note that Paul does not try to refute
the teachings or methodology of Apollos, though he was undoubtedly aware
of the specifics of their differences of opinion. Instead, he urges the
Corinthian Christians to embrace one another and focus on their shared
faith. Regardless of our differences, Paul says, we have more in common
with one another than we have differences, "for the message about the
cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being
saved it is the power of God." Paul had strong opinions, but he knew how
to focus on what was most important. For the early church to survive,
differences of opinion would have to be tolerated, and Christians with
different approaches would have to be accepted as fellow believers;
otherwise, the church would founder and cease to exist. Two thousand
years later, Christianity is the largest religion in the world, with
perhaps two billion adherents. We have divided into dozens of major
groups, with hundreds of minor divisions among them. In and of itself
this isn't bad. It is natural for individuals who share a common set of
beliefs, a common interest in a particular style of worship, or a common
worldview to want to worship together. The problem comes when one group
decides that its own set of beliefs and practices is normative and that
others are less authentic Christians, or perhaps they are not really
Christians at all. I see this frequently with my students, some of whom
like to distinguish between "Catholics" and "Christians" (they seem to be
unfamiliar with the term "Protestant"). Paul admonishes us to respect one
another and recognize those with whom we differ as legitimate followers of
Christ. Yes, we worship differently. Some prefer a solemn, contemplative
worship service, while others stand up and shout and raise their hands in
praise. Yes, we organize our church years differently. Some follow the
traditional seasons of the Christian year--Advent, Lent, Pentecost, and so
forth--while others treat every Sunday (or Saturday) the same. Yes, we
have different beliefs. Some take the Bible very literally, believing in
a literal Adam and Eve and flood, while others see many biblical stories
as religious literature akin to other similar ancient writings. Some
insist on the Chalcedonian formula for describing the person of Christ and
the essence of the Trinity, while others use the language of symbol and
speak of the mystery of the Incarnation. In spite of all these
differences, we have one very central thing in common. We all accept the
centrality of the cross in both the life of Jesus and in the individual
Christian experience. We accept Jesus as Lord and try to emulate him in
our lives today. With Paul, let us embrace our brothers and sisters who
belong to different factions. Let us share fellowship with them if they
are willing. Finally, let us worship together and celebrate our common
faith. That which identifies us as Christians is more important than
those things that divide us.
Matthew 4:12-23 (first
published 23 January 2005)
When I first discerned the call to ministry in my own life, I was unsure exactly what direction I wanted to go. I could see myself as pastor of a church, but I could also see myself as a professor in a college or seminary. Little did I suspect where my spiritual journey would lead. I have served on staff in a Spanish-speaking church (when I went to the church I didn't speak a lick of Spanish), and I have taught school in South Africa. I have taught high school math and science, and I have managed the information technology department for an academic publisher. I have worked on a large digitization grant for a library association, and I have started my own non-profit corporation. Now, among other things, I'm back to teaching. Who can say what's next? What a wild, woolly, wonderful road it's been so far! When Jesus began his public ministry, his initial preaching mirrored that of John the Baptist. Today's reading from Matthew's gospel tells us that Jesus' public words were the same as John's: "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near." It didn't take long, however, before Jesus' ministry diverged from that of John's, who was now in prison. The gospel writer summarizes Jesus' ministry, based on a reading of Isaiah 9, as shining a light on a people in darkness. What initially began as a call for repentance quickly became a mission to heal and teach the masses. What I find encouraging about all this is that Jesus grew in his ministry in a way similar to the way in which I grew in my own ministry, and I know other people experience similar vicissitudes in their lives. How many people over 40, or even over 30, still work for the same company as they did when they first came out of college? How many people have worked for the same company for 15 or 20 years? Some, but not many. The author of Hebrews describes Jesus as the pioneer and perfecter of faith, and it's nice to know that Jesus' public ministry, though short, had some twists and turns in it. And what about the previous ten or fifteen years of Jesus' adulthood--how did he spend those years? As the old Nissan commercial used to say, "Life is a journey, enjoy the ride."