The Twelfth Day of Christmas: The Politics of Jesus The Politics of Jesus

The Politics of Jesus

The Twelfth Day of Christmas

Tuesday, January 5, 2021

Luke 6:27-31 

But I say to you who are willing to hear…

The gospel is not for everyone. It’s just not, for not everyone is willing to hear the teachings

of Jesus, truly hear, and follow. 

Very often, in churches, we hear about the “secularization” of America, about the “decline”

of Christianity, and about how awful this all is.

Will Willimon and Stanley Hauerwas would beg to differ. 

“Sometime between 1960 and 1980,” they argue, “an old, inadequately conceived world

ended, and a fresh, new world began.”

They point to one Sunday in 1963 in Greenville, South Carolina, as a key turning point.

That’s when the Fox Theater defied the state’s blue laws by opening its doors on a Sunday,

going “head to head with the church over who would provide the world view for the young.”

As you can imagine, the Fox Theater won. 

But Willimon and Hauerwas don’t lament the loss. In fact, the facade of so-called “Christian

America” allowed so many (white) Christians to overlook the incredible wrongs (“it was a

racially segregated world,” they remind us). And so the common view was that “People grew

up Christian simply by being lucky enough to be born in places like Greenville.”

Of course, no one believes that anymore.

“All sorts of Christians are waking up and realizing that it is no longer ‘our world,’” they

observe, “if it ever was.”

And this shift has revealed a truth: “Christians are not naturally born in places like Greenville

or anywhere else. Christians are intentionally made by an adventuresome church.”

This may sound strange, especially given that many (most?) churches have turned towards

a generic spirituality (don’t call it religion!) that tries to convince seekers that they are already

believers.

Maybe we are all spiritual, even if not religious. And maybe we all naturally seek the divine. In

fact, I would not disagree. But this is not what the message of Jesus is about.

“The Bible’s concern,” argue Willimon and Hauerwas, “is not if we shall believe but what we

shall believe.”

As for the content of our belief, they point to the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew, but since

our gospel reading today is from Luke, we’ll look at the Sermon on the Plain. (I’ll bet most

people didn’t realize that Luke has Jesus come down from the mountain before beginning

his sermon.)

Willimon and Hauerwas note that Jesus begins his sermon with the Beatitudes and “does

not ask the disciples to do anything. The Beatitudes are in the indicative, not the imperative,

mood. First we are told what God has done before anything is suggested about what we are

to do.”

I’m not sure about you, but every sermon I’ve ever heard on Jesus’s sermon has been about

what Willimon and Hauerwas call “moralistic imperatives.”

“Of course,” they say, “we are forever getting confused into thinking that scripture is mainly

about what we are supposed to do rather than a picture of who God is.”

Then we get to our reading for today:

        But I say to you who are willing to hear:

Love your enemies.

   Do good to those who hate you.

Bless those who curse you.

   Pray for those who mistreat you.

If someone slaps you on the cheek,

   offer the other one as well.

If someone takes your coat,

   don’t withhold even your shirt.

Give to everyone who asks;

   and don’t demand your things back

      from those who take them.

Do unto others

   as you would have them do unto you.

This can be seen as “ethical naivete,” Willimon and Hauerwas accept. “But the basis for the

ethics of the Sermon on the [Plain] is not what works but rather the way God is.”

I remember how mindblowing this was when I first read it. I mean, we’re not supposed to be

concerned with outcomes, with effectiveness?

Nope. Faithfulness, holiness, not effectiveness.

“Cheek-turning,” they explain, “is not advocated as what works (it usually does not), but

advocated because this is the way God is - God is kind to the ungrateful and the selfish.

This is not a strategem for getting what we want but the only manner of life available, now

that, in Jesus, we have seen what God wants. We seek reconciliation with the neighbor, not

because we will feel so much better afterward, but because reconciliation is what God is

doing in the world in the Christ.”

This is all very political. Not red and blue political, not donkeys and elephants, but political as

in how we live together. 

First, “we.” Willimon and Hauerwas argue that the sermon “is not about how to be better

individual Christians.” If we’re honest, it’s a recipe for becoming a dead Christian...unless

you have a community that will nurse you back to health after you’ve turned your cheek

and received a beating. You can’t follow this teaching on your own.

And the specific “we” here is important too, for this teaching is not for just everyone. It doesn’t

make sense to just anyone. It never did, really, which is why, after the Fox Theater won the

battle for the youth, those youth left the church and never came back.

But it’s also why Willimon and Hauerwas argue that Jesus’s sermon “is a picture of the way

the church is to look.”

Not a picture of how the world is to look, but how the church is to look.

“Our ethical positions arise out of our theological claims.” And not everyone shares our

theological claims.

The biblical story is clear about this, by the way, for Jesus is not speaking to a general

audience: “Jesus raised his eyes to his disciples and said…”

This is a teaching for the disciples. But this teaching “is not primarily addressed to

individuals, because it is precisely as individuals that we are most apt to fail as Christians.” 

And the kicker: “Only through membership in a nonviolent community can violent individuals

do better…,” for “it is as isolated individuals that we lack the ethical and theological resources

to be faithful disciples.”

Hauerwas has famously said, “I’m a pacifist because I’m a violent son of a bitch. I’m a Texan.

I can feel it in every bone I’ve got.” And so he has to keep saying it, to hold himself accountable.

“I create expectations in others that hopefully will help me live faithfully to what I know is true but

that I have no confidence in my own ability to live it at all.”

And so the point of the Christian community is not just being together; that’s just a nice benefit.

“The Christian ethical question,” according to Willimon and Hauerwas, “is, What sort of community

would be required to support an ethic of nonviolence, marital fidelity, forgiveness, and hope such

as the one sketched by Jesus in the Sermon on the [Plain]?”

May we be just such a community.

May we practice the politics of the kingdom.

May we follow the politics of Jesus.

The Eleventh Day of Christmas: Trust

Trust

The Eleventh Day of Christmas

Monday, January 4, 2021

Proverbs 3:1-12

My son, do not forget my teaching,

   and let your heart keep my commands.

For length of days and years of life

   and peace they will add for you.

Kindness and truth will not forsake you.

   Bind them round your neck,

      write them on your heart’s tablet,

and find favor and good regard

   in the eyes of God and man.

Trust in the LORD with all your heart,

   and do not lean on your discernment.

Through all your ways know him,

   and he will make your paths straight.

Do not be wise in your own eyes,

   fear the LORD and swerve from evil.

Let it be healing for your flesh

   and a balm to your bones.

Honor the LORD more than your wealth

   and than the first fruits of your crop,

and your barns will be filled with abundance,

   your vats will burst with new wine.

The LORD’s reproof, my son, do not spurn,

   and do not despise his rebuke.

For whom the LORD loves he rebukes

   and like a father his son, regards him kindly.

translation: Robert Alter

Prayers of the People: January 3, 2021

Prayers of the People

January 3, 2021

Second Sunday of Christmastide

Epiphany Sunday

Praise God from whom all blessings flow.
Praise God, all creatures here below.
Praise God above, ye heavenly host.
Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

O Lord, our souls rise up to meet you

as the day rises to meet the sun.

The heavens shine with your glory,

showing us the way.

It has not felt like Christmas this year.
But on this Epiphany Sunday,

give us eyes to see,

like the Magi before us,

and the courage to follow.

Lord, in your mercy, hear our prayers.

We lift up...

Dorothy Baker

Ginger Bethany

Valerie Brenner

Brant Butler

The Chatham Family

Cathy Dickey

Linda Haywood

Jan Jones

Madison Martin

Kelly Mynatt

Tamala Nail

Joyce Simpson

Helen Ruth Bourgoyne

Nancy Burch

Ellen Edens

Hettie & James Lutts

Marie Ray

Lois Sandusky

Lela Wallbaum

Naida Wright

and the family of Vera Hankins

Lord, hear our prayers.

Shine all around us,

by day and by night,

Jesus, the light of the world.

When we walk in darkness,

Lord, carry us through.

Light of the world,

shine in our darkness,

and illuminate the way of peace.

And let us pray, together, the prayer you taught us:

Our Father,

who art in heaven,

hallowed be thy name.

Thy kingdom come,

thy will be done,

on earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day

our daily bread.

And forgive us our trespasses,

as we forgive those who trespass against us.

And lead us not into temptation,

but deliver us from evil.

For thine is the kingdom,

and the power,

and the glory,

forever and ever.

Amen.

The Tenth Day of Christmas: And The Word Became Flesh

And The Word Became Flesh

The Tenth Day of Christmas

Sunday, January 3, 2021

John 1.1-18

In the beginning.

That is how John’s gospel opens, mirroring the opening of Genesis. And so, on this Second Sunday of Christmas, we are invited to see Christmas as the beginning of a new creation.

In the beginning was the Word.

And Frederick Buechner reminds us that, in Hebrew, “word” and “deed” are the same word, dabar.

“Thus to say something,” Buechner explains, “is to do something.”

He speaks about the power of words, both God’s words and our own: “When God said, ‘Let there be light,’ there was light where before there was only darkness. When I say I love you, there is love where before there was only ambiguous silence. In a sense I do not love you first and then speak it, but only by speaking it give it reality.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.

And through the Word came life and light. “By uttering himself,” says Buechner, “God makes God heard and makes God hearers.”

But the world didn’t recognize the light.

Even still, says Buechner, “God never seems to weary of trying to get across to us. Word after word God tries in search of the right word.”

And then “God tries flesh and blood.”

Buechner lists some of the failed experiments: “God tried saying it in Noah, but…. God tried saying it in Abraham, but…. God tried Moses, but....; tried David…. Toward the end of his rope, God tried saying it in John the Baptist....’’

“So God tried once more.”

And the Word became flesh.

The Ninth Day of Christmas: Wisdom & The Good Life

Wisdom & The Good Life

The Ninth Day of Christmas

Saturday, January 2, 2021

Proverbs 1:1-7

James 3:13-18

Very often, churches focus on salvation. But not today’s readings. Our readings today

are all about wisdom. 

Recall from yesterday that wisdom literature is a specific genre in scripture. And understanding

the genre helps us to better read the text.

“In the Bible,” observes Rachel Held Evans, “wisdom is rarely presented as a single decision,

belief, or rule, but rather as a ‘way’ or ‘path’ that the sojourner must continually discern amid

the twists and turns of life.”

The author of James tells us that wisdom is shown by a “good life” with “works...done with

gentleness.”

And he tells us a little about what that looks like: “The wisdom from above is first pure, then

peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without a trace of partiality or

hypocrisy.” 

This is contrasted with a different kind of wisdom:  an “earthly, unspiritual, devilish” wisdom

that “does not come from above” that is characterized as “bitter envy and selfish ambition” on

the inside, “boastful and false to the truth” on the outside.

All of this has an air of spirituality to it that begs the question: What does this mean, practically,

in our lives? And how do we learn this wisdom from above?

This is where the book of Proverbs comes in, for “proverbs are spiritual guides for ordinary

people,” writes Ellen Davis, “on an ordinary day, when water does not pour forth from rocks

and angels do not come to lunch.”

Proverbs, argues Kathryn Schifferdecker, is about “character formation.” But it’s not some

highfalutin ethics course (like my masters program); no, the basic message is “to do well by

doing good.”

And so our reading today, the opening prologue (Robert Alter calls it a prelude) that “lays out

the agenda for the book.” 

“To know wisdom” is unsurprising. But “to know wisdom and reproof”? Alter explains: “the

pedagogical assumption of the book is that the unsuspecting young need to be warned of

life’s dangers and scolded for their susceptibility to temptation.”

Again, we are not surprised by “righteousness, justice, and uprightness.” But what about this:

“To give shrewdness to the simple, to a lad, knowledge and cunning”? This is the same

language used to describe the serpent in Genesis.

This “fits with the pragmatic curriculum of Proverbs,” Alter explains. “Intelligence is of the most

practical sort, involving alertness to potential deceptions and seductions, is seen as an

indispensable tool for the safe, satisfying, and ethical life, and a fool is repeatedly thought

of as a dupe.”

In other words, wisdom gets its hands dirty.

But there is a spiritual element underneath: “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of

knowledge.”

This gives us a clue about the serpent. It’s not shrewdness that puts the serpent at odds

with Yahweh; it’s the lack of “fear.” And this “fear,” notes Alter, “reflects a distinctive Israelite

emphasis not evident in analogous Wisdom texts in Egypt and Mesopotamia.”

So what is this “fear of the LORD”?

Jon Levenson defines it as “reverential obedience.” Carey Ellen Walsh says it “denotes a

posture of reverence and awe toward the holy, more than it does outright fright.”

“At its most basic level,” says Schifferdecker, “the fear of the LORD is the knowledge that

God is God and we are not.” And she points us to The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe:

“Aslan is a lion - the Lion, the great Lion.”

“Ooh,” said Susan. “I’d thought he was a man. Is he - quite safe? I shall feel rather

nervous about meeting a lion.”

“That you will, dearie, and no mistake,” said Mrs. Beaver; “if there’s anyone who can

appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they’re either braver than most or

just plain silly.”

“Then he isn’t safe?” said Lucy.

“Safe?” said Mr. Beaver…”Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But

he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.”

This understanding is central not just to Proverbs, but to Psalms and Job as well. And it’s a

prerequisite for wisdom and the good life.

The Eighth Day of Christmas: The Politics of Scripture

The Politics of Scripture

The Eighth Day of Christmas

Friday, January 1, 2021

Psalm 8

Ecclesiastes 3.1-13

Revelation 21.1-6a

Matthew 25.31-46

“Everything has a season,” writes Qohelet, the poet-philosopher. 

Note that we’re using her authentic Hebrew name, as opposed to the more familiar Greek,

Ecclesiastes. And don’t credit Solomon with words he certainly did not write, no matter what

tradition would have you believe. 

“It is best to think of Qohelet,” writes Robert Alter, “as the literary persona of a radical

philosopher articulating...a powerful dissent from the mainline Wisdom outlook that is

the background of his thought.”

Whoever it is, the author’s engaging in a dialogue with other parts of scripture. 

The god of Qohelet does not seem like the God of Genesis and Exodus, the God who

controls history, bringing floods and plagues, rescuing the chosen people and providing

manna as they wander through the wilderness. 

The god of Qohelet does not seem like the God of Amos or Jeremiah or Isaiah either, the

God who condemns Israel for its unfaithfulness but then steps in to rescue the repentant

nation.

Rather, the god of Qohelet is more like the god of deism that gets things going but then steps

back and absently allows history to run its course. This may be similar to the god of today’s

Psalm, but that stands in stark contrast to the God of our reading in Revelation who is making

all things new. Or the God of our gospel reading who separates the sheep from the goats.

Of course, this is not the only dialogue happening within scripture. The opening two chapters

of Genesis - the two competing creation stories - are themselves in dialogue.

And the fact that the Bible includes such a dialogue is not only beautiful, but is also key to

understanding its contents. Contrary to popular opinion, the Bible is not an owner’s manual;

it’s not a rulebook. (Rachel Held Evans compares this view to Michael Scott, in an episode of

The Office, driving a rental car into a lake because the GPS said to turn right.)

In fact, the Bible is not a book at all: “it’s a diverse library,” says Held Evans, “of ancient texts,

spanning multiple centuries, genres, and cultures, authored by a host of different authors

coming from a variety of perspectives.”

Notice that she mentioned genre. Well, genre is key to understanding.

Qohelet (Ecclesiastes) is wisdom literature. And as Held Evans observes, “The aim of

wisdom literature is to uncover something true about the nature of reality in a way that

makes the reader or listener wiser.”

And how does wisdom make us, as readers, become wiser? “In the Bible, wisdom is rarely

presented as a single decision, belief, or rule, but rather as a ‘way’ or ‘path’ that the sojourner

must continually discern amid the twists and turns of life.”

You see, life is too complex for a simple rulebook.

“Wisdom, it seems, is situational,” argues Held Evans. “It isn’t just about knowing what to

say; it's about knowing when to say it. And it’s not just about knowing what is true; it’s about

knowing when it’s true.”

And so she concludes: “To engage the Bible with wisdom, then, is to embrace its diversity,

not fight it.”

It’s not just the Bible that speaks with a diversity of voices. We, as a community, do too. And

we should follow the example of the biblical authors, and the biblical editors, by continuing the

dialogue as we read and interpret and discuss the text together.

Everything has a season.

Brueggemann see this as the “numbness” of the “royal consciousness” and “Solomonic

establishment” that “embodies the loss of passion, which is the inability to care or suffer”

and so leads to “apathy, a-pathy, a-pathos, the absence of pathos.”

To Held Evans, on the other hand, “these verses imply a pro tip: “When your friend is sitting

in a heap of ashes, grieving the loss of his family and scratching his diseased skin with a

shard of pottery” - she’s describing Job, in case you missed that - “it’s time to be silent. It’s

time to listen and to grieve.”

If you are wondering who is right, you’ve missed the point.

There are definitely wrong ways to read scripture. And unfortunately, many of us were

taught wrong. The good news is that there is no one right way. But that also means that

no one person has all the answers, which is why Hauerwas constantly reminds us that we

must read together.

In fact, it may be dangerous to read alone, lest we think we understand on our own.

Reading is political. Part of living together is learning to read together.