Friday, December 25, 2020

The First Day of Christmas: Which Savior? Whose Salvation?

 

Which Savior? Whose Salvation?

The First Day of Christmas

Friday, December 25, 2020

Luke 2.(1-7), 8-20


In their commentary on Luke, Amy-Jill Levine and Ben Witherington III explain how Luke challenges 

Roman propaganda, “giv[ing] readers a choice: which savior do you follow, and whose salvation do 

you want?”


We think of “gospel” (good news) as unique to Christianity. We associate “savior” and “son of God” 

with Jesus. But anyone living in the Ancient Near East, circa 1st century, would have immediately 

thought of the Emperor Augustus when they heard these terms.


By attributing these terms to Jesus, “Luke is thus challenging the claims of the emperor,” argue 

Levine and Witherington.


To understand why this is such a challenge, just look back to the previous chapter, to Mary’s 

Magnificat:


He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,

   and lifted up the lowly;

he has filled the hungry with good things,

   and sent the rich away empty.


This is a direct challenge to Augustus, the Emperor, who sits on the throne as Jesus is born. 

Mary’s hymn says that he will be, actually that he already has been, brought down from his 

throne and sent away empty.


And so, like it or not, Christmas is political. 


You see, there is actually no such thing as “not political.” We live together, in community. And 

figuring out how to do that is politics.


In our church this year, we have seen a glimpse of what politics can be. 


As is often the case, our children led the way, collecting food for the Little Free Pantry at Caritas in 

January, February, and again in March, as well as selling handmade Valentine’s cards to raise $365 

for MIFA.


And by the time our annual missions offering was complete, we raised over $40,000 for ArkWings, 

Bridges, Caritas, Church Health, Family Promise, Hospitality Hub, LifeLine to Success, MIFA, Peace 

of Thread, Rachel’s Kids, Samaritan Counseling, our South Africa partners. (We’ve raised another 

$23,000 so far this year.) We also supported the CBF response following the tornadoes that hit

middle Tennessee in early March.


All of this redistribution of wealth is political. And in a self-centered world, even small acts of service 

to others is a form of resistance.


When COVID-19 hit, we found creative ways to continue the political work of the church. We’ve kept 

in touch via phone calls, text messages, emails, and even good old-fashioned snail mail letters; and 

we have gathered on/in Zoom calls, porches, patios, backyards, and parks.


In an isolated world, forming community is a political act of resistance.


We were there for one another during painful times as well, mourning the loss of 13 church members 

in 2020. And in a culture that seeks to avoid any and all thought of death, it is a political act to 

remember, as we do every year on All Saints Day. And so we remember their names - D, W, M, H, 

A, B, L, A, I, P, D, B, V [note: abbreviated here for privacy] - and we keep alive the memories of how 

they shaped our community. Despite what our culture would have us believe, we do not make 

ourselves.


We also welcomed babies S, I, L, and J into our community this year, signs of hope in a world of 

despair. It’s a political act to have children. It’s a political act for us to commit to helping raise other 

people’s children. And it’s our political task to make the future better for them.


And so, on this Christmas Day, we have to ask ourselves, Which savior? Whose salvation? 


Like it or not, Christmas is political.


The question is, what will our politics look like?


Last night, on Christmas Eve, the coldest night of the year, we gathered to light the Christ candle, to 

spread the flame, to bring light and warmth into the world. 


In a dark and cold world, there are those who would keep the light and warmth to themselves to build 

up their power. And there are those who would use their wealth to buy up light and warmth for 

themselves, keeping it from others. No wonder Mary sings of bringing them down from their thrones 

and sending them away empty.


The lesson of Christmas is of the divine refusing to keep the light and warmth in heaven, but to bring it 

to earth to share with all. And so the politics of the church is likewise to refuse to keep the light and 

warmth to ourselves, but to freely share it with all as we did symbolically last night.


On earth as it is in heaven.

 

On earth, as in heaven: the key to The Lord's Prayer (Luke 11) – An  Informed Faith 

Thursday, July 9, 2020

Prayers of the People: July 12, 2020


I recorded the prayers of the people today for Sunday's worship.

O God, our help in ages past,
Our hope for years to come,
Our shelter from the stormy blast,
And our eternal home.

We gather together, virtually, 
even in the midst of mourning,
even in the midst of the collective traumas we are experiencing,
We gather with a spirit of gratitude,
knowing that you are with us,
and knowing that you will continue to be our guide while troubles last.

And our troubles do last. 
And last. 
And last.

We cry out to you, O God, 
because crying out to our elected officials is not working,
for they have grown numb 
to the suffering and death 
in our nation, 
in our state, 
in our city.

We cry out to you, O God, 
because we know that you do not grow numb.
and we ask you to cut through the numbness.

We worry - we are filled with anxieties.
We worry about what to do about school in the Fall.
We worry about what to do when our businesses can’t make ends meet.
We worry about what to do when unemployment relief runs out.
We worry about what to do when rent is due.

We worry about what to do when our grandmothers need surgery
while the hospitals are overflowing with covid cases.
We worry about what to do when the hospitals run out of beds.

We worry, 
and we worry, 
and we worry, 
until we can’t sleep at night.

But as much as we worry,
we also know that, while everyone is impacted by this global pandemic,
not everyone is impacted equally.
About 40% of Shelby County residents are white,
but only 17% of those who have tested positive for COVID-19 are white.
And so we want to lift up our Black and Latinx neighbors,
for we know that they are disproportionately impacted by this pandemic.

But COVID-19 is not the only trouble we face.
Disaster follows hard on disaster, says the prophet Jeremiah.

We know that one day the COVID-19 pandemic will pass.
And when it does 
the pandemic of racism that lives 
in our political system, 
in our legal system, 
in our criminal justice system, 
in our education system, 
and, yes, in our churches, 
that pandemic of racism will be with us still.

And so we come to you, O God, with hearts heavy,
mourning all the life COVID-19 has robbed us of,
and mourning Black lives in particular.
And we ask with the prophet Jeremiah,
Is there no balm in Gilead?
Is there no physician there?
O that my head were waters,
And my eyes a fountain of tears,
That I might weep day and night
For the slain daughter of my people!

With souls hurting, O God,
but with gratitude for your presence,
and with comfort in the knowledge that your soul hurts with us, 
we pray as Jesus, the anointed one, has 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 have trespassed 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.

Friday, June 26, 2020

COVID-19: Memphis/Shelby County Updates

Memphis/Shelby County COVID-19 Updates


Back in mid-April, a month into sheltering in place, when it became clear that we were not going to contain the novel coronavirus, I decided to start tracking the local data myself. 

At the time, there just wasn't much information, even less thoughtful analysis, and it was difficult to figure out what was going on. So I built a few spreadsheets, created a handful of visualizations to help "see" the data trends, and started writing weekly Twitter threads with my analysis. 

Why should you care about my analysis?

That's a good question. I'm no epidemiologist. But I do have a graduate degree in ethics, where I did a lot of work around biomedical ethics. (Doing work around biomedical ethics and disability is actually how I ended up with a career in special education, by the way.) And so I do have some expertise in how to think about, how to weigh pros and cons around, public health.

And I have a passion for data, for "seeing" trends, making connections, and then painting a story of what's there. I find it helpful, for myself, to do this. Over time, after I did data projects on the side at work, it was added to my official duties. It's just how my mind works. I can't even help it. So, on the one hand, I do this for myself. 

And so, as my curiosity led me to dive deeply into understanding the coronavirus pandemic, it just made sense for me to start building spreadsheets and visualizations and to start writing my analysis. This is just what I do - whether at work, at church, at home, wherever. 

But others have found my analysis helpful. Many others, in fact. The first update had over 2,000 impressions and nearly 600 engagements, already about 200 times higher than normal tweets. And those numbers grew to 15,000 and 3,000 for the last update.

I mention that just to say that it seems like people appreciate my analysis. And so I offer it as a public service. 

The public service aspect is the real reason I put my analysis out each week. And the reason I think it's needed - the real reason you should care about what I have to say - is because the public is not getting the full story from our local officials.

Analyzing the data, I've noticed the ways our elected officials have not always been honest with us and have not always made public health a priority. And so it is my hope that my analysis can inform the public discussion so that we can hold our elected officials accountable.

On this note, check out the op-ed I wrote for the Daily Memphian. (Read it here.) My goal here was to move beyond analysis to advocacy, defining a clear public policy goal and trying to shape the conversation in our community.


I was also interviewed by the Memphis Flyer a few weeks earlier. (Read the interview here.)

I'll note here that I made my first public projection - not to be confused with prediction - when the Flyer interviewed me on July 2. The day before, total cases had just reached 10,000. Looking at trends and growth rates at the time, I projected that we would reach 20,000 total cases by August 1. We hit 20k on July 29, three days early. I think that confirms my analysis.



So that's who I am and what I'm trying to accomplish. The other question you might want to know is where my analysis comes from and what my methodology is.

My data comes straight from the Shelby County Health Department. Each day at 10:00am, they update case counts and reported tests. And so each day, I pull those two numbers and plug them into my spreadsheet. I just pull the total number of cases and the total number of tests, just the most basic raw data. 

Once I've got the data, the spreadsheets do a lot of the work. I've written formulas to look calculate the number of new cases per day, a 7-day rolling average of new cases per day, new cases per week, average new cases per day per week, and then all of those for testing data too.

I didn't have access to testing data at first, but once I got that I used case counts and testing data to write formulas to calculate the positivity rate overall, per day, on a five-day rolling average, and per week. And then I created visualizations for each of these. 

After a while, I started playing with different time parameters to look at the data since reopening in Phase 1, since moving to Phase 2, since July 4 weekend, and more. I've also started looking at daily growth rate, as well as 7-day and 14-day growth rates. I've added a visualization comparing 14-day growth rates for cases versus tests.

Then I started using growth rate trends to project out - not predict - what cases might look like in the future.

And then I created visualizations around the metrics used by Harvard's Global Health Institute and Center for Ethics. The first is looking at positivity rates and testing to show our current status, as well as how many daily tests we'd need to be doing to get below 10%, 5%, and 3% positive. And then the other is around case rates, using the Harvard benchmarks of 1, 10, and 25 daily cases per 100,000 people.

Every Saturday, I spend a couple hours analyzing the data and writing my analysis in a series of 280-character tweets. I've also added a mid-week report as well. These are usually about 25 tweets long. But each day, I've started posting daily updates.

I wanted to archive my analysis here in one place, both for myself and also for transparency. Anyone who wants to go back to check my work can do so - and can do so easily. I think my analysis is pretty solid, but I know that I'm missing some context because I don't have all the data the health department has. And I welcome feedback. (I am grateful to the Twittersphere for offering some ideas early on that helped shape the way I thought about and presented the data thereafter.) If you have any thoughts or suggestions or context to add, I welcome feedback. Just shoot my a message via Twitter




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Sunday, June 7, 2020

The Blood of Abel is Crying Out From the Ground, Redux: #BlackLivesMatter

NOTE: I wrote this piece four years ago, after a brutal four days that saw police kill Alton Sterling and Philando Castille, followed by a sniper killing four officers, followed by police arming a robot with a bomb to kill the sniper.

Four years later, the more things change, the more they seem to stay the same. And so I thought I would republish this piece. #AhmaudArbery #BreonnaTaylor #GeorgeFloyd #DavidMcAtee
---
The Blood of Abel is Crying Out From the Ground: #BlackLivesMatter
James Aycock, July 13, 2016

The Body of Abel Found by Adam and Eve', William Blake, c.1826 | Tate
"Cain Fleeing From the Wrath of God (The Body of Abel Found by Adam and Eve)," by William Blake

I've been teaching on Genesis for the past month. Two weeks ago, we discussed the beginning of the Cain and Abel story, found in Genesis 4.1-7, just before Cain killed Abel, his brother.
And then a Black man in Baton Rouge was killed by police officers. Another Black man was killed by police officers in a suburb of St. Paul. And then in Dallas a sniper shot and killed five police officers, wounding several others. And then the Dallas police decided to send a robot with a bomb to blow up the sniper.
All of a sudden, our text took on a new meaning. The story of Cain and Abel had just played out in the news cycle, day after day after day.

So here's a recap of my Sunday School lesson, plus a little ‪‎#BlackLivesMatter‬ preaching...

Cain kills Abel, his brother, in verse 8. Just like that, in one brief verse, Abel is dead.
And when God comes asking where Abel is, Cain gives that classic response: "Am I my brother's keeper?"
We can read this as Cain redirecting the question of responsibility back at God. Maybe Cain is not just avoiding his own responsibility, but asking God to take responsibility. And this is something we understand.
We often wonder why God doesn't intervene, why God allows murder to happen.
Why, God, didn't you step in to keep Philando Castile alive? Why, God, didn't you step in to keep Alton Sterling alive? Why, God, didn't you step in to keep those officers in Dallas alive?
But I'm reminded here that the call for us to love God, who we can't see, is translated into a call to love our neighbor, who we can. It is our responsibility to be the hands and feet of God.
Of course we're our brother's keeper!
And our sister's too!
It's our responsibility to watch out for our brothers and sisters, to keep them safe, to ensure that they aren't killed.
And God's response is interesting. Listen, says God, the blood of Abel is crying out from the ground.
There is so much good news here. There is no one to protest for Abel's murder - there's no witness, no one to video on their cell, and of course Cain is not wearing a bodycam - and yet the blood of Abel cries out to God nonetheless.
Even more, God hears, God listens, God responds.
I don't think it's a stretch to say that, just like God hears the cry of the silenced Abel, God hears the cry of the silenced Philando Castile, the silenced Alton Sterling, the silenced Dallas police officers, and too many more to name. Their blood cries out to God.
And I think we can extend that to say that God hears the cries of those without a voice in our society, those who are still alive but whose voices have been silenced.
God listens, even when our elected officials ignore the call for justice. God listens...
And you don't even have to occupy a bridge to make God listen. God is paying attention before it gets to that.
As progressive white folks, we like to think of ourselves as the enlightened ones. We would never act as the two officers did last week. We would never be Cain and murder our brother.
But look at verse 7. Very calmly, God offers a rational case for Cain to collect himself and do the right thing. You haven't done anything wrong, and you can still choose the right path, God says, just be careful because sin is waiting to ambush you.
But Cain is just not in a rational place.
How many of us have acted without thinking? Who hasn't acted on impulse? Who hasn't looked back in regret after letting our emotions get the best of us? We all have.
That is Cain. He's a sympathetic figure in verses 1-7. He's set up as a good guy. (Don't believe me? Go back and read the story for yourself. He didn't do anything wrong.) He has every reason to be upset. But sin - and notice that, here, the first time sin is mentioned in the Bible, it's described not as doing the wrong thing, but as a force outside of us - is waiting to ambush him.
And that's exactly what happens. God tells Cain that he can control sin, but instead sin controls him.
I offer a parallel here. The officers who killed Philando Castile and Alton Sterling were probably good guys. Like Cain. If they could, I'm sure they would take it back. Like Cain. But I don't think they made rational choices, but rather acted in the moment. Like Cain.
My first three years of teaching were in Frayser, in one of the most violent schools in the city. The year before I got there, there were over 160 fights in 180 school days. A few years before that, a young man was killed in the restroom. It was chaos, and I'd never seen anything like it.
We did a lot of good things at that school. We cut fights by half the first year. And then the next year fights were halved again. Every sports team made it to the playoffs. My class protested the death of Trayvon Martin at the entrance of our awards ceremony when the school board president was our guest of honor. There was a sense of pride, both within the school and in the community. And academic proficiency increased from 5% to 18%. Students with disabilities outperformed their non-disabled peers at 25%. Things were really turning around.
But some things I saw made me very uncomfortable. And yet I fell in line. I didn't speak up. Looking back, it terrifies me to even think about some of the ways I acted then.
I have a graduate degree in ethics - I am quite literally a master of right action. And yet...
The point being, in the wrong culture, there is a force that can take over even the best of us.
We are Cain.
Very easily, we could be those police officers too.
The hard truth, though, according to Genesis 4, is that sin is not so much something inside of us, but a force that is outside of us and beyond us. It has a life of its own. And that makes it so much more difficult to control.
It's embedded in the political system we participate in - and so we participate in it. It's embedded in the religion we practice - and so we practice it too. It's embedded in the news we consume - and so we consume it. It's in the very air we breath - and so we breath it in.
But Cain could control it, said God. And that means that we can too. And if we can control it, then by all means we must. Because there is too much blood crying out from the ground.
When it controls us, though, the good news is that God will not let go, will not give up, but will follow us even unto the land of Nod.
Cain went on to found the first city. His descendants were the first to discover art and culture and technology. They took the very same passion and emotion that Cain felt, and they channeled it into something productive and life-giving. Thanks be to God.
But they also continued killing. As do we today.
We can control it, says God. And so we must.
Those who have been silenced are crying out and asserting control over the forces in our society that have silenced them for years - and would keep them silenced.
They asserted control over a bridge. I was there. It was peaceful. It was nonviolent. But they controlled that bridge. And, as a result, they are on the path to control the force that is sin.
God heard them all along. But now, finally, their elected officials are listening. And so they are asserting control over the political process.
God heard them all along. But now, finally, religious leaders are listening. And so they are asserting control over religious institutions.
God heard them all along. But now, finally, the news media is listening. And printing public apologies. And so they are asserting control over how the narrative is reported.
As white folks, we must do our part.
We must stand up and affirm that #BlackLivesMatter. We must be part of the movement.
And yet, just like Stokely Carmichael told one of my Baptist heroes, Will Campbell, back in the '60s, we must get to work on our white brothers and sisters. We can't just abandon them because they don't understand why it's so important to say #BlackLivesMatter or why it's important to occupy a bridge. We must be the bridge that helps them understand.
And, as white folks, we must be willing to not be in control for once. We must be willing to check our privilege.
Listen! Abel's blood is crying out. May we listen to what it has to say. And may we not be satisfied until justice rolls down like water and righteousness like a mighty stream.
Thanks be to God.