God of justice and God of hope, lead the nations of Iraq and the United States of America to peace. Heal the wounds of warfare and of division, that your people may prosper. Thwart the aims of the wicked, and restrain the hands of those who seek to do violence. Help us to know the immense cost of war, and let us seek always to build rather than bomb. Strengthen us in the ways of peace and the bonds of reconciliation, that we might overcome the next temptation to attack, trusting in the goodness of your desire for us and your hope for the world. Amen.Tuesday, June 30, 2009
A new day in Iraq
There are many pictures which reflect the past six years of war in Iraq. Far too many show destruction, blood, and death. Today, even as U.S. military forces leave Iraqi cities, the conflicts and interests which have made Iraq a place of violence have not been transformed. Yet we look forward in hope that a step away from occupation is a step towards better governance for the people of Iraq, and a step towards healing some of the wounds of war.
God of justice and God of hope, lead the nations of Iraq and the United States of America to peace. Heal the wounds of warfare and of division, that your people may prosper. Thwart the aims of the wicked, and restrain the hands of those who seek to do violence. Help us to know the immense cost of war, and let us seek always to build rather than bomb. Strengthen us in the ways of peace and the bonds of reconciliation, that we might overcome the next temptation to attack, trusting in the goodness of your desire for us and your hope for the world. Amen.
God of justice and God of hope, lead the nations of Iraq and the United States of America to peace. Heal the wounds of warfare and of division, that your people may prosper. Thwart the aims of the wicked, and restrain the hands of those who seek to do violence. Help us to know the immense cost of war, and let us seek always to build rather than bomb. Strengthen us in the ways of peace and the bonds of reconciliation, that we might overcome the next temptation to attack, trusting in the goodness of your desire for us and your hope for the world. Amen.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Prayer and revolution
There are all kinds of things which make a celebrity. In the face of the on-going press of urgent competition for the world's attention, I would like to briefly recall someone from whom the media gaze will soon pass.
Neda Agha Soltan has become a symbol of the violent suppression of dissent in Iran. Neda's name means "the voice" or "the call" in Farsi. She studied philosophy, took underground singing lessons, and was engaged to be married. On June 20, 2009 ahe was shot and killed, apparently by government security forces, during a Tehran protest against the Iranian election results.
The graphic video of her death (Neda Agha Soltan, killed 20.06.2009) has helped make her death a focal image for seeing the conflict in Iran (perhaps similar to images from the U.S. killings at Kent State in 1970). Her bloody image has been used in protests, and pictures of her have been used in memorial gatherings. And the killing of a peaceful demonstator, when seen in this way, can be revelatory.
The regime understands this. Iran bans prayers for "Angel of Freedom," runs the headline. Iranian authorities have sent out a circular to mosques banning collective prayers for the woman. One of Neda's relatives said the givernment ordered her family to bury her immediately and barred them from holding a memorial service.
Prayer is dangerous, because prayer calls evil and suffering and hope to God's attention, and prayer is a mobilizing tool for God's people.
When demonstrating on the street is too dangerous, the rooftops cry out in the night.
The woman in this video is saying that they can take our phones, our internet, all our communication away, but we are showing that by saying "allaho akbar" we can find each other. She ends it [by] saying that tonight they are crying out to God for help.
Satan fears prayer, as do the powers of this world. In a fallen world, prayer is a revolutionary act. It was so when Abel's blood cried out from the ground (Genesis 4:10). It was so when the Hebrew slaves (Exodus 2:23-25). It was when Jesus cried out in anguish from the cross (Mark 15:34), and when he asked God to forgive his murderers (Luke 23:34). And it is so today.
Photo of Neda Agha Soltan's grave, said to have
been taken by her boyfriend. Caspian Makan AP
Neda Agha Soltan has become a symbol of the violent suppression of dissent in Iran. Neda's name means "the voice" or "the call" in Farsi. She studied philosophy, took underground singing lessons, and was engaged to be married. On June 20, 2009 ahe was shot and killed, apparently by government security forces, during a Tehran protest against the Iranian election results.The graphic video of her death (Neda Agha Soltan, killed 20.06.2009) has helped make her death a focal image for seeing the conflict in Iran (perhaps similar to images from the U.S. killings at Kent State in 1970). Her bloody image has been used in protests, and pictures of her have been used in memorial gatherings. And the killing of a peaceful demonstator, when seen in this way, can be revelatory.
The regime understands this. Iran bans prayers for "Angel of Freedom," runs the headline. Iranian authorities have sent out a circular to mosques banning collective prayers for the woman. One of Neda's relatives said the givernment ordered her family to bury her immediately and barred them from holding a memorial service.
Prayer is dangerous, because prayer calls evil and suffering and hope to God's attention, and prayer is a mobilizing tool for God's people.
When demonstrating on the street is too dangerous, the rooftops cry out in the night.
The woman in this video is saying that they can take our phones, our internet, all our communication away, but we are showing that by saying "allaho akbar" we can find each other. She ends it [by] saying that tonight they are crying out to God for help.
Satan fears prayer, as do the powers of this world. In a fallen world, prayer is a revolutionary act. It was so when Abel's blood cried out from the ground (Genesis 4:10). It was so when the Hebrew slaves (Exodus 2:23-25). It was when Jesus cried out in anguish from the cross (Mark 15:34), and when he asked God to forgive his murderers (Luke 23:34). And it is so today.
been taken by her boyfriend. Caspian Makan AP
Monday, May 25, 2009
Gambling with leadership
Albert Einstein is famously quoted as saying he could not believe that God plays dice with the universe. Not so, apparently, with apostolic succession!
“And the believers cast lots, and the lot fell on Matthias; and he was added to the eleven apostles.” Acts 1:26
I like this story. It is, of course, possible to read this in a determinative way that sees God as in charge of every last detail of the universe, therefore the dice had to land the way God wanted them to, ensuring that the "right" disciple replaced Judas to complete Jesus' twelve-man leadership team. For me, this approach runs counter to my faith, and begs way too many questions. (If the Twelve were so important to Jesus and in Acts 1, whatever happened to that institution? And a myriad of issues related to predesination and theodicy. Did God "set up" Judas as the betrayer and did God demand the murder of Jesus? If God is in charge of everything, is not God then the author of evil? And this theo-logic is so often used as a justification of the current order; since God is involved in every roll of the dice, this must be the best of all possible worlds.)
But I prefer to read this text as reassurance from the Holy Spirit, an appropriate corrective to the anxiety which often accompanies leadership succession in the church.
We might note that the apostles have a history of conflict over leadership and position. Examples abound. “Let one of us sit at your right and the other at your left in your glory” (Mark 10:37 and parallels). Peter’s earnest attempts to be Jesus’ chief apostle. John’s gospel hints, and tradition has long speculated that Judas' betrayal might have been related to his own desire for top rank. Many of Jesus' final moments with them in the passion stories have to do with the quality of community and leadership they are to practice when Jesus has gone from them. And the groups has suffered several shocks - the betrayal of their teacher by his own, his murder, his resurrection appearances and loss again via ascension. Judas' death is another trauma that precipitates this scene, and the new apostle must fill his ill-fated shoes. Is it any wonder that this decision might be filled with tension?
Yet this is contrary to the kind of community Jesus has been discipling his friends into, and to the kind of mission the Holy Spirit is working to bring about.
So we might take a step back and look at the scene without the angst of those in the midst of it. We apparently have two well-qualified candidates. They each meet the job description (Acts 1:21-22). And each has their supporters and advocates. We might reasonably see that this is a winning choice no matter which way the dice may role.
Lest we take our own leadership struggles too seriously, we might also reflect upon the fact that we never hear another peep from either Joseph Barsabbas ("Son of the Father") or Matthias. Canonically, it does not seem that the church's future mission hung in the balance. Whatever work they did, however important their ministry was to the church as a whole and the people involved, after this point it is "behind the scenes" of the New Testament. Neither individual, nor the office was the cornerstone of the church. (That job had already been filled, see Ephesians 2:20.)
In this light, the casting of lots is a graceful way to resolve a conflict over leadership.
It depends upon the willingness of those involved to trust God - but also, I think, to trust the community which produces and which will support and nourish these leaders. It is great to have a capable, strong, energetic, Spirit-filled, wise, and compassionate person in the office of pastor or bishop. But their success in the office is due to so much more than their own abilities.
No one person can build the church. As it was in the beginning is now and ever shall be - the kingdom of God is a community organizing project. Jesus Christ did not seem to care much his "office." After all, he took his beloved Son-ship and became a slave, homeless, misunderstood more often than not, crucified. But he did care for his sheep, the ones who know him, who leap for joy at the sound of his voice, and who follow him, because the trust him.
Matthias, Joseph Barsabbas, bishops, presbyters, deacons... whether by casting of lots, election in assemblies, vetting by committees, the touch of one already in the office... if the people of God are faithful to their Lord, the church will do just fine. The Holy Spirit is busy sending the good news of Jesus Christ throughout the world. Best we get on with it.
“And the believers cast lots, and the lot fell on Matthias; and he was added to the eleven apostles.” Acts 1:26I like this story. It is, of course, possible to read this in a determinative way that sees God as in charge of every last detail of the universe, therefore the dice had to land the way God wanted them to, ensuring that the "right" disciple replaced Judas to complete Jesus' twelve-man leadership team. For me, this approach runs counter to my faith, and begs way too many questions. (If the Twelve were so important to Jesus and in Acts 1, whatever happened to that institution? And a myriad of issues related to predesination and theodicy. Did God "set up" Judas as the betrayer and did God demand the murder of Jesus? If God is in charge of everything, is not God then the author of evil? And this theo-logic is so often used as a justification of the current order; since God is involved in every roll of the dice, this must be the best of all possible worlds.)
But I prefer to read this text as reassurance from the Holy Spirit, an appropriate corrective to the anxiety which often accompanies leadership succession in the church.
We might note that the apostles have a history of conflict over leadership and position. Examples abound. “Let one of us sit at your right and the other at your left in your glory” (Mark 10:37 and parallels). Peter’s earnest attempts to be Jesus’ chief apostle. John’s gospel hints, and tradition has long speculated that Judas' betrayal might have been related to his own desire for top rank. Many of Jesus' final moments with them in the passion stories have to do with the quality of community and leadership they are to practice when Jesus has gone from them. And the groups has suffered several shocks - the betrayal of their teacher by his own, his murder, his resurrection appearances and loss again via ascension. Judas' death is another trauma that precipitates this scene, and the new apostle must fill his ill-fated shoes. Is it any wonder that this decision might be filled with tension?
Yet this is contrary to the kind of community Jesus has been discipling his friends into, and to the kind of mission the Holy Spirit is working to bring about.
So we might take a step back and look at the scene without the angst of those in the midst of it. We apparently have two well-qualified candidates. They each meet the job description (Acts 1:21-22). And each has their supporters and advocates. We might reasonably see that this is a winning choice no matter which way the dice may role.
Lest we take our own leadership struggles too seriously, we might also reflect upon the fact that we never hear another peep from either Joseph Barsabbas ("Son of the Father") or Matthias. Canonically, it does not seem that the church's future mission hung in the balance. Whatever work they did, however important their ministry was to the church as a whole and the people involved, after this point it is "behind the scenes" of the New Testament. Neither individual, nor the office was the cornerstone of the church. (That job had already been filled, see Ephesians 2:20.)
In this light, the casting of lots is a graceful way to resolve a conflict over leadership.
It depends upon the willingness of those involved to trust God - but also, I think, to trust the community which produces and which will support and nourish these leaders. It is great to have a capable, strong, energetic, Spirit-filled, wise, and compassionate person in the office of pastor or bishop. But their success in the office is due to so much more than their own abilities. No one person can build the church. As it was in the beginning is now and ever shall be - the kingdom of God is a community organizing project. Jesus Christ did not seem to care much his "office." After all, he took his beloved Son-ship and became a slave, homeless, misunderstood more often than not, crucified. But he did care for his sheep, the ones who know him, who leap for joy at the sound of his voice, and who follow him, because the trust him.
Matthias, Joseph Barsabbas, bishops, presbyters, deacons... whether by casting of lots, election in assemblies, vetting by committees, the touch of one already in the office... if the people of God are faithful to their Lord, the church will do just fine. The Holy Spirit is busy sending the good news of Jesus Christ throughout the world. Best we get on with it.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
The Word goes where it will
Notes on Acts 8:26-40 for the fifth Sunday in Easter.
Everything about this story is incredible. Did you really expect to see an Ethiopian eunuch, a man at once powerful and marginalized? Add to this the fact he is either a very marginal Jew, or a God-fearer who has found in the God of Israel something that speaks to him. And speaks strongly enough for him to acquire and study the holy writings of Israel. Have you ever tried to read a Hebrew scroll while bouncing along a wilderness road? The appearance of the water itself is a surprising thing in the desert – but perhaps not as exalted or lush as painters have imagined it. We picture an oasis, but it might just as easily be a humble waterhole.
The eunuch asks: “What is to prevent me from being baptized”?
Well, almost everything. The eunuch is missing the sign of the covenant (circumcision) for Jewish males. And, missing his testicles, he would not have been permitted in the Temple to worship. He could never be a “full member.” Philip, who is not an apostle, is not clearly authorized to go out on his mission, or to baptize. (Note how in 8:1 the dispersion from Jerusalem is the result of persecution, not an apostle-planned mission strategy, and how in 8:44 the Jerusalem apostles follow Philip to Samaria to ensure that he is doing things right, especially regarding baptism.)
But the book of Acts is misleadingly titled. Its traditional name, “Acts of the Apostles,” is true enough – except the apostles are not the ones driving the action. One sees the apostles busy organizing a reform movement and new, communitarian institutions based in Jerusalem. But the book instead shows the Holy Spirit continually calling into action the people who make up this new assembly, blowing the breath of God into new and distant places and bringing new, boundary-pushing people into fellowship with Jesus. The Spirit, not bound by human constraints ("we've never done it that way before"), is continually pushing the limits of who God welcomes and where this good news is to be proclaimed.
It is interesting to note that the interaction between Philip and the eunuch is driven by questions:
+ Do you understand what you are reading?
+ How can I, unless someone guides me?
+ Who is the prophet speaking of?
+ What is to prevent me from being baptized?
One easily imagines that the eunuch is seeing in Isaiah and hearing in the Jesus story something of himself (echoes of the Samaritan woman in John 4), for his powerful position comes at a price, and he is cut off from the earth, in that he will die childless.
Yet what is impossible with humans is possible with God. This is a theme with Luke (see Luke 18:27, 1:37, Acts 2:24), but one might even more regard it as a canonical theme of the scriptures. Everything about the journey of faith that began with Abraham has been about God making space for divine transformation in the narrow places of human life.
It happened with Abraham and Sarah, laughing at the prospect of children, much less a nation flowing from their journey and remembering their stories. It happened with a young at-risk girl in the Judean hills who said "Yes" to an angel, to God, and to the new life that she would carry. In the background of this Acts 8 story, this holy reorienting is happening to a zealous persecutor (Paul) who would fall off his high horse and into a heaven which shocked him, and to an energetic apostle (Peter) who would be driven further into the unclean world of the gospel. And it happened to a eunuch on the road to Gaza, a sexual minority who is today revered as the father of the Ethiopian church.
There are unlikely apostles everywhere.
Listen. Listen to the Spirit telling you to go to that unlikely place. Listen to the questions and the stories of the people around you. Pay attention to the interaction between the words of scripture and words of peoples' lives, of your life. Share the goodness of God as you have experienced it. The Holy Spirit is still blowing, especially in the edgiest places of life. With the Spirit at work, what is impossible for humans becomes not only possible, but immediate, compelling, and real. Places and situations that might seem God-forsaken become the sites of revelation and blessing.
We might wonder where in our churches and in our communities the Spirit is blowing right now? Perhaps, for a hint, with the eunuch and Philip we might read again the words of the prophet - "In his humiliation, justice was denied him" - and go to the places where human humiliation becomes the opening point for divine glory. And that is a good place to ask a few questions.
Everything about this story is incredible. Did you really expect to see an Ethiopian eunuch, a man at once powerful and marginalized? Add to this the fact he is either a very marginal Jew, or a God-fearer who has found in the God of Israel something that speaks to him. And speaks strongly enough for him to acquire and study the holy writings of Israel. Have you ever tried to read a Hebrew scroll while bouncing along a wilderness road? The appearance of the water itself is a surprising thing in the desert – but perhaps not as exalted or lush as painters have imagined it. We picture an oasis, but it might just as easily be a humble waterhole.
The eunuch asks: “What is to prevent me from being baptized”?Well, almost everything. The eunuch is missing the sign of the covenant (circumcision) for Jewish males. And, missing his testicles, he would not have been permitted in the Temple to worship. He could never be a “full member.” Philip, who is not an apostle, is not clearly authorized to go out on his mission, or to baptize. (Note how in 8:1 the dispersion from Jerusalem is the result of persecution, not an apostle-planned mission strategy, and how in 8:44 the Jerusalem apostles follow Philip to Samaria to ensure that he is doing things right, especially regarding baptism.)
But the book of Acts is misleadingly titled. Its traditional name, “Acts of the Apostles,” is true enough – except the apostles are not the ones driving the action. One sees the apostles busy organizing a reform movement and new, communitarian institutions based in Jerusalem. But the book instead shows the Holy Spirit continually calling into action the people who make up this new assembly, blowing the breath of God into new and distant places and bringing new, boundary-pushing people into fellowship with Jesus. The Spirit, not bound by human constraints ("we've never done it that way before"), is continually pushing the limits of who God welcomes and where this good news is to be proclaimed.
It is interesting to note that the interaction between Philip and the eunuch is driven by questions:+ Do you understand what you are reading?
+ How can I, unless someone guides me?
+ Who is the prophet speaking of?
+ What is to prevent me from being baptized?
One easily imagines that the eunuch is seeing in Isaiah and hearing in the Jesus story something of himself (echoes of the Samaritan woman in John 4), for his powerful position comes at a price, and he is cut off from the earth, in that he will die childless.
Yet what is impossible with humans is possible with God. This is a theme with Luke (see Luke 18:27, 1:37, Acts 2:24), but one might even more regard it as a canonical theme of the scriptures. Everything about the journey of faith that began with Abraham has been about God making space for divine transformation in the narrow places of human life.
It happened with Abraham and Sarah, laughing at the prospect of children, much less a nation flowing from their journey and remembering their stories. It happened with a young at-risk girl in the Judean hills who said "Yes" to an angel, to God, and to the new life that she would carry. In the background of this Acts 8 story, this holy reorienting is happening to a zealous persecutor (Paul) who would fall off his high horse and into a heaven which shocked him, and to an energetic apostle (Peter) who would be driven further into the unclean world of the gospel. And it happened to a eunuch on the road to Gaza, a sexual minority who is today revered as the father of the Ethiopian church.
There are unlikely apostles everywhere.
Listen. Listen to the Spirit telling you to go to that unlikely place. Listen to the questions and the stories of the people around you. Pay attention to the interaction between the words of scripture and words of peoples' lives, of your life. Share the goodness of God as you have experienced it. The Holy Spirit is still blowing, especially in the edgiest places of life. With the Spirit at work, what is impossible for humans becomes not only possible, but immediate, compelling, and real. Places and situations that might seem God-forsaken become the sites of revelation and blessing.
We might wonder where in our churches and in our communities the Spirit is blowing right now? Perhaps, for a hint, with the eunuch and Philip we might read again the words of the prophet - "In his humiliation, justice was denied him" - and go to the places where human humiliation becomes the opening point for divine glory. And that is a good place to ask a few questions.
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