2 Samuel 1:1, 17-27 (first published 2 July 2006)
Of course, the painting doesn't depict what really happened in the 1948 movie Fort Apache. Col. Thursday, played by Henry Fonda, is a stubborn and arrogant leader, unfamiliar with the ways of the West in general and of the Apaches in particular. Ignoring the sage advice of Captain Yorke (John Wayne), he foolishly leads his men into an ambush (a la Custer--note the title of the painting referred to above), where they are slaughtered by Apaches with superior numbers and superior position. Despite knowing that Thursday's death was the result of poor leadership, and despite their personal animosity toward one another, Yorke does not correct the reporter's understanding of the battle in which Thursday was killed. On the contrary, he glorifies Thursday's martial abilities and does not mention his own personal issues with his former commander. In a similar way, David glorifies Saul's prowess in battle and the love that the people had for him. He does not mention his own run-ins with Saul, which included Saul's attempts to hunt David down and kill him. Why did David speak of Saul in such a positive way? One reason might have been pragmatic politics (Realpolitik). Saul had many devoted followers, and if David hoped to persuade them to follow him, he would need to ingratiate himself to them; praising Saul as a valiant warrior was a good way to accomplish this goal. Another possibility is the common custom of avoiding speaking ill of the dead, especially the recently dead, whether out of courtesy or out of a fear of the recently departed spirit. One might also argue the David's elegy concerning Saul was an accurate assessment of that aspect of Saul's life. Saul was, after all, a valiant warrior, who had led his people to many victories over their enemies, despite his personal failings. Of course, there is also the matter of David's love for Jonathan, and Jonathan's love in turn for his father Saul. David might have conceived his song as a tribute primarily to Jonathan, but he could hardly disparage Saul while praising Jonathan, since their fates were identical. From the viewpoint of the final redactor of the story, I suspect that the first explanation best explains the reason for the song's inclusion in the text, though other factors might well have been at play as well. I would like to focus, however, on the need that people often seem to have to portray those who have died in battle as valiant warriors, as though that were something especially praiseworthy. From a Christian perspective, I think that a soldier's heroics in battle should first of all not be exaggerated, as they were in the tragic case of Pat Tillman, whose family was told that he died charging up a hill to fight the Taliban in Afghanistan, when in truth he was accidentally killed by friendly fire. Stories that exaggerate the circumstances of a soldier's death only serve to glorify warfare itself, and they cheapen the true bravery of the soldier who lost his or her life. Second, a soldier's heroics in battle--even if real--should not be the main thing that people remember about his or her life. Certainly a family can receive some comfort in knowing that their loved one died saving others, if that is the case, but the manner of a person's death shouldn't overshadow the meaning of their life. A few minutes or seconds at the end of life tell less about a person than the preceding twenty or thirty or eighty years. (What are the implications for the Christian focus on Jesus' death?) If we as a society ever hope to move beyond the scourge of war, we must learn not to glorify or glamorize violent deaths.Newspaper reporter: Have you seen the painting of "Thursday's Last Stand"?
Captain Yorke: Yes, I saw it when last I was in Washington.
Newspaper reporter: [to other reporters] There were these massed columns of Apaches and Thursday and his men riding in among them!
Captain Yorke: [knowing what really happened] Correct in every detail.
Psalm 130 (first published 10 August 2003)
In May 1978 Martha McKinney's 22 year old son Brian was kidnapped and murdered by a faction of the Irish Republican Army. For years she suspected that he had been killed, and her anger grew. In June 1999 Sinn Fein leader Gerry Adams came to McKinney's house and promised to help find her son's body. After searching a bog for several days, Brian's body was found, and Martha and her husband were able to bury their son. Martha continued to feel immense anger toward her son's killers, but then she attended a conference at Stanford University designed to let victims of violence meet other victims from the other side of the conflict. She met other Catholics who had suffered, and she met Protestants who had suffered as well. Gradually she was able to overcome her anger and to forgive those who had killed her son. Why should we forgive other people when they've wronged us? For one thing, we can't live happy, productive lives if we're full of anger against another person. When people do something against us, they hurt us, but when we refuse to forgive, we hurt ourselves. A second reason to forgive others is that in doing so we are following God's example. Forgiving other people for egregious wrongs done to us is difficult, but when we remember our own sins and that God has forgiven us, it makes it a little easier to forgive others for their sins against us. The psalmist in Psalm 130 speaks in a voice of desperation, crying out to God for forgiveness. All of us have done things that hurt other people at different times, and we know what it's like to ask for forgiveness. When we consider our own shortcomings, we realize that we are unworthy of God's love. Nevertheless, the psalmist reminds us, with God there is forgiveness and steadfast love. God doesn't hold our past against us, because God loves us and wants to have fellowship with us. When we think about how much God has forgiven us, how can we continue to withhold forgiveness from someone who has wronged us? Some sins have greater consequences than others, and it would be wrong to suggest that it is always easy to forgive another person. It's not always easy, but it is always possible. Furthermore, it's always beneficial, both for ourselves and for the one we forgive.
When the U.S. Supreme Court this week proclaimed the Affordable Care
Act constitutional by the narrowest of margins, millions of Americans
breathed a sigh of relief. No longer will insurance companies be able
to exclude from coverage people with preexisting conditions. Children
up to the age of 26 will be able to remain on their parents' insurance
coverage. No one will ever "max out" their coverage, since lifetime
limits have gone away. And perhaps most importantly, at least from a
psychological perspective, essentially everyone in the U.S. will have
health insurance coverage. Members of the audience at a Republican
presidential debate earlier this year chanted "let him die" when told
the story of a man with a serious illness who had no coverage. This
sort of callousness stands in stark contrast with the principle that
underlies the ACA, that health care is a right, not a privilege reserved
for the wealthy. Paul's second letter to the church in Corinth
describes a collection that Paul and others were taking up to feed the
poor in Jerusalem and surrounding areas. Contributing to the collection
may have been voluntary, but Paul leaves no doubt that he considered
caring for the less fortunate to be part of every Christian's duty. "I
do not mean that there should be relief for others and pressure on you,
but it is a question of a fair balance between your present abundance
and their need, so that their abundance may be for your need, in order
that there may be a fair balance." The words "fair balance," which
appear twice in this passage, represent a Greek word that can be
translated "equality," the same word that is used to describe the
congruent sides of an isosceles triangle. "Fair balance" is probably a
reasonable rendering, except for the fact that too many people today
think that a "fair balance" means keeping things just the way they are.
There may be an argument for maintaining the status quo from the
standpoint of radical libertarianism, but such an argument stands in
opposition to the teachings of Christianity in general and Paul in
particular. To share of one's bounty was not only desirable for members
of the early church, it was an obligation. The duty of caring for the
poor is a notion that abounds in the New Testament, as it does in many
Jewish writings, such as the Hebrew Bible, the book of Tobit, and the
Talmuds. Almsgiving, or caring for the poor, is one of the Five Pillars
of Islam. Somehow the idea that some people are entitled to access to
such life-sustaining essentials as healthcare while others are not has
pervaded and perverted the minds of many people who call themselves
Christians today. It is not just those who have been infected by the
prosperity "gospel" who believe such things. Many Christians who reject
the idea that God necessarily rewards the faithful monetarily continue
to buy into the lie that some people deserve access to lifesaving
medical care while other don't. They might not chant "let him die," yet
they remain indifferent to the suffering of their neighbors and members
of their community. The ACA offers hope to millions who would otherwise
lack access to healthcare, and although it's not really universal
coverage, it's a step in the right direction, but the Supreme Court's
ruling doesn't address the deeper existential and theological need for
Christians to rediscover the radical concern for others--including
strangers--that lies at the heart of their religion. Christians should
be leading the way in advocating for truly equal access to healthcare,
nutrition, housing, education, and other necessities of life, and the
first target of their advocacy should be those who claim the name of
Christ.
Mark 5:21-43 (first published 2 July 2006)
One of the most powerful movies of the twentieth century offers viewers a glimpse at family life after a tragedy has occurred. Ordinary People opens about a year after the drowning death of Buck Jarrett, a popular high school boy whose loss leave behind his parents and younger brother, Conrad. Conrad has recently returned from a stay at a psychiatric hospital, where he was sent after trying to kill himself in the wake of his brother's death. The movie focuses on "Connie" as he tries to adjust to life without Buck. That's not easy, because he was close to Buck, and they shared many of the same friends. Moreover, Buck was older, more outgoing, made better grades, and was a better athlete than Connie. On top of all that, Buck, it turns out, had been his mother's favorite. Connie struggles with feelings of inadequacy, coupled with guilt--he was with his brother when he drowned, but was unable to save him. His earlier suicide attempt hints at the struggle going on in Connie's head: is a meaningful life possible when you are younger, shyer, less popular, and less successful than your older brother? In today's gospel story, Jesus is on his way to Jairus's house, and he stops along the way to heal a woman with a chronic flow of blood. I've read this story innumerable times, but this time a small detail caught my eye that I hadn't ever noticed before. As Jesus went into Jairus's house, Mark says he took with him "Peter, James, and John, the brother of James." When Mark, the first gospel to be written, was composed, it was necessary for the author to identify exactly which John he was talking about. It was John, the brother of James. Earlier in the gospel he makes the same identification (Mark 3:17). John is regularly listed second in the gospels, apparently because James was older and/or more prominent in some way. Even though, or perhaps because, James was executed fairly early in the history of the church, still John was identified as James's brother around 70 C.E., when Mark was probably written. Over time, however, the situation changed. When Luke and Acts were written a decade or two later, John had established himself as the more prominent of the two brothers. In fact, when Luke describes James's martyrdom, he calls him "James, the brother of John" (Acts 12:2). Church tradition says that John lived longer than any of the other disciples, finally dying in Ephesus after a long and fruitful life. We don't know what John's relationship was with his older brother, or whether he had ever felt overshadowed or even intimidated by him, but it wouldn't be surprising if he had been. I was the oldest of three children, so I look at this situation from the perspective of the older brother. I made pretty good grades in school and was reasonably successful in my academic career, and I sometimes felt a little sorry for my sister and brother who had to come along behind me. The problem in their cases wouldn't have been with my parents, who were always supportive of all of us, but perhaps with teachers that we had in common or church leaders who had gotten to know me before they came along. Maybe they felt some self-inflicted pressure to "measure up" in those early years as well. I'm happy to say that each has emerged apparently undaunted from whatever shadow I might have cast years ago, but I suspect that the situation is not always the same with other families. I'm aware of families in which the parents favor one sibling--not always the oldest--over the others. I know there are also people who feel that they can't live up to the standard of their older (or younger) brother or sister, so they don't even try. What all these people--parents and children alike--need to realize is that it's not a contest. God has endowed each of us with the gifts, talents, and opportunities that God wants us to have. One sibling may be more successful academically, and another may prosper in business, while another may emphasize raising a healthy family. The point is that all children--oldest, youngest, middle, and only children--are special in the eyes of God, and with God's help, they can accomplish great things.