The Gospel of Peace

My reflections, based on Ephesians 6, after reading about the Houla Massacure in Syria. Click the link to listen!


http://chirb.it/f3zAmK 


Ephesians 6: 10-20

¹⁰ Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. ¹¹ Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes.¹² For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers^(R) of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. ¹³ Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. ¹⁴ Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, ¹⁵ and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. ¹⁶ In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. ¹⁷ Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. ¹⁸ And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people. ¹⁹ Pray also for me, that whenever I speak, words may be given me so that I will fearlessly make known the mystery of the gospel, ²⁰ for which I am an ambassador in chains. Pray that I may declare it fearlessly, as I should.

Why I’ll Never Read This Parable the Same Way Again

Here’s the challenge:

Read the following parable as if….

1. The master is not God, but a corrupt businessman
2. The third slave is the hero of the story

Matthew 25:14-30 – The Parable of the Talents

For it is as if a man, going on a journey, summoned his slaves and entrusted his property to them; to one he gave five talents, to another two, to another one, to each according to his ability. Then he went away. The one who had received the five talents went off at once and traded with them, and made five more talents. In the same way, the one who had the two talents made two more talents. But the one who had received the one talent went off and dug a hole in the ground and hid his master’s money. After a long time the master of those slaves came and settled accounts with them. Then the one who had received the five talents came forward, bringing five more talents, saying, “Master, you handed over to me five talents; see, I have made five more talents.” His master said to him, “Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.” And the one with the two talents also came forward, saying, “Master, you handed over to me two talents; see, I have made two more talents.” His master said to him, “Well done, good and trustworthy slave; you have been trustworthy in a few things, I will put you in charge of many things; enter into the joy of your master.” Then the one who had received the one talent also came forward, saying, “Master, I knew that you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed; so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Here you have what is yours.” But his master replied, “You wicked and lazy slave! You knew, did you, that I reap where I did not sow, and gather where I did not scatter? Then you ought to have invested my money with the bankers, and on my return I would have received what was my own with interest. So take the talent from him, and give it to the one with the ten talents. For to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away. As for this worthless slave, throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.”

There is good reason to believe that Jesus’s audience would have heard this story in a way that’s similar to how you just read it – the master as a corrupt businessman and the third slave as the hero.

Some scholars believe that Jewish ears of that day would have been anticipating the third character as the hero – that this was a common parabolic form. When we hear a joke that begins something like, “So the first guy walks into a bar….” we don’t know what the punch line will be, but we know when to listen for it.[i] Think back to the parable of the Good Samaritan. Two pass by the beaten man, a priest and a Levite, then the third – a Samaritan who rescues him![ii] Now the parable of the talents: Two bad guys who keep the master’s corrupt business going, and then a third – the worthless slave who refuses!

What about this master? Is he really a bad guy? His employee says to him, “Master, I knew that you were a harsh man, reaping where you did not sow, and gathering where you did not scatter seed; so I was afraid, and I went and hid your talent in the ground. Here you have what is yours.” And who would know better the character of the Master than one of his trusted employees – one that he left in charge of what would be worth about 2.5 million dollars today to manage while he was away[iii]?

To me, reaping where you don’t sow and gathering where you don’t scatter sounds like the very opposite of Isaiah’s vision of what the world looks like when God’s in charge:

They shall build houses and inhabit them;

they shall plant vineyards and eat their fruit.

They shall not build and another inhabit;

they shall not plant and another eat;


for like the days of a tree shall the days of my people be,


and my chosen shall long enjoy the work of their hands.

In God’s kingdom, everyone enjoys the fruit of their own labor. They do not labor only to have that fruit enjoyed by someone else, or build their house only to have someone else take it—but this master in the parable is like that: he takes from others the fruit of their labors, he exploits them. The master in this story isn’t my God, isn't the God of Isreal.

Ched Meyers writes in his book The Biblical Vision of Sabbath Economics about some of the dirty business going on during the time of Jesus’ that would be well known to his audience, “Large landowners made loans to peasant smallholders based on speculation about future crop production. With high interest rates and vulnerability to lean years and famine, farmers often were unable to make their payments, and faced foreclosure. Once in control of the land, the new owner could continue to make a killing by hiring laborers to farm cash crops….In the parable the master’s slaves do this highly profitable dirty work.” The master likely worked a system that was legal and profitable, but not ethical in God's kingdom.

Needless to say, the Jews listening to Jesus’ parable would have heard this loud and clear—this was a very corrupt master. His bottom line was profit, and he was the character in the story guilty of mismanaging resources. The third slave was the only one willing to call him out on it and suffered greatly for it.

If the words from the trusted slave weren’t enough to demonstrate the harsh master’s character, Jesus throws in something extra, which would undoubtedly prick the ears of an early AD Jewish audience, the master mentions interest. Interest is not such a dirty word today, but it would be a big red flag for the Jews of Jesus’ time. John Dominic Crossan writes about the master’s desire to gain, at the very least, interest on his money entrusted to the third slave, “...[the] two versions of the Master’s Money in Matthew and Luke contain the only mention of “interest” in the entire New Testament (Matt. 25:27; Luke 19:23). On the other [hand], there are several mentions of it in the Old Testament—and every single one of them is negative.” (Ex. 22-25, Deut. 23:19, Lev. 25:36-37).”

Ezekiel’s words during the Babylonian Exile in 500 BCE ring in Jewish ears, “[If one] takes advance or accrued interest; shall he then live? He shall not. He has done all the abominable things; he shall surely die; his blood shall be upon himself…”

The Jews knew that charging interest was a very bad thing and only a very bad person would do it.

Herzog has renamed this parable The Vulnerability of the Whistle-Blower[iv] and I think it captures much more accurately the focus of this story. The story does not focus on talents (money), although the implications of its abuse are strong, but a person. Interest was being charged, land was being taken, talents were being increased, profit was being made – business as usual. Life was good in the world of the master’s (one where “to all those who have, more will be given, and they will have an abundance; but from those who have nothing, even what they have will be taken away”) until the slave couldn’t take it anymore, his heart was too heavy, he blew the whistle – he was the game changer, he’s the focus here!

I find it no coincidence that this parable directly follows that of the 10 Bridesmaids, in which Jesus tells his audience, ^“Keep awake therefore, for you know neither the day nor the hour.^”  Jesus is calling us, to wake from our sleep![v] To turn off the autopilot! To kill the engines whose heavy droning drowns out God’s deepest convictions in our hearts. “Wake up!” he calls us, “Be ready and awake and alive! Wake up like an employee who could not longer be complicit in a system that left others destitute!” Jesus is calling, “Wake up my people for you know neither the day or the hour!”

---

[i] Ched Meyers, pg 42, The Biblical Vision of Sabbath Economics

[ii] John Dominic Crossan, The Power of Parable

[iii] Ched Meyers, pg 42, The Biblical Vision of Sabbath Economics

[iv] William R. Herzog II, Parables as Subversive Speech

[v] Ryan J. Bell, Parable of the Worthless Slave, 16 Nov 2011

Another good reference: Ernesto Cardinal, The Gospel in Solentiname

We Join in Their Disappointment

Today we remember when Jesus' cold body lay in a tomb. His followers faced confusion, disappointment, shame and threats on their lives. They believed God would deliver them and their people from oppression, that he would finally bring his rule of peace, but that hope was dead. Why had God allowed them to be duped? Was he ever going to make things right?



At church we joined with the disciples. We acknowledged our own disappointments with God, our unfulfilled hopes and expectations, by writing them on small pieces of paper and placing them in this jar.

Ruth as Challenge

I’d like to summarize some information I just recently read about one of my favorite books of the Bible, Ruth, from a book I’m reading called The Power of Parable: How Fiction by Jesus Became Fiction About Jesus by John Dominic Crossan.

The story of Ruth is set in the time of the Judges—before Israel had Kings. But Crossan asks the question of when this story showed up in Israel’s history. Just as we could read a story set during WW2, so Israel was presented with the story of Ruth at a later time in their history.

Crossan believes that it appeared during the “post-Babylonian Persian Restoration (I’ll spare you the dates) of Ezra and Nehemiah.”

In short, Jerusalem and the temple had been destroyed and the Israelites were exiles in Babylon (think “Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego”) until, luckily for them, the Persians overthrew the Babylonians. In this case, the enemy of Israel’s enemy was actually their friend because the Persian regime had a very different philosophy about conquered peoples—they preferred to send them back to their homelands and collect taxes. And, Crossan writes, in the case of Israel, they also wanted a little space between themselves and Egypt.

The two people mandated to see this project of restoring Jews to the homeland and “reinstating ancestral law” were Ezra and Nehemiah. One of the key components (and I’m sure you can understand why) of their program was a form of ethnic cleansing, where all foreign wives and their children had to be sent away. As a justification, they looked to the scriptures, where Deuteronomy 28 clearly stated that “No Ammonite or Moabite” could ever become part of God’s covenantal community.

And here comes the story of Ruth, the Moabite who becomes part of the Jewish family of Naomi and the great grandmother of King David.

And if you think this is a stretch to focus on these elements in Ruth, Crossan points this out (and I did a quick, scanning count): the word Moab or some derivative (like Moabite) is used at least 14 times in the 4 short chapters of Ruth . More than once, the text calls Ruth,  “the Moabite who came back with Naomi from the country of Moab”. I think that would be about like saying, “Syd the American, who came back with David from the country of America.” Do you think the writers were trying to make a point? Ruth's not an Israelite she's a Moabite.

Crossan highlights the other place that we find a “double emphasis” in the story of Ruth. At the end of the story, in chapter four, it’s noted twice that Ruth (remember the Moabite from Moab) was the great grandmother of Isreal’s greatest king, King David. In my mind, I picture Ruth being to David as Mary is to Jesus—you just can’t have one without the other. The Israelites couldn’t overlook this. Their greatest king wouldn’t have been born without the marriage of Ruth, the Moabite, to Boaz, the Israelite.

So what would the story of Ruth sound like to a group of people who are casting out all the strangers and foreign wives from among them? What kind of challenge to the “Deuteronomy-based reforms of Ezra and Nehemiah”  (as Crossan calls them) would it present to hear the words of Ruth to Naomi, at a time when, “Ruth could never have said to Naomi, ‘Your people shall be my people and your God my God’ (1:16)?”

Two (extended) questions I want to think about after reflecting on Crossan’s analysis:

1.     Are we reading the Bible in a way that allows what Crossan calls, “the biblical Word against the biblical Word?” Do we see its “inconsistencies” as problems or as models for how God’s truth can challenge his people (and how the text can challenge itself)?

2.     Who are our Moabites today? Who, in our modern world, does the community of God (collectively or in smaller groups) tell that they cannot be part of God’s  family (God’s covenant, God’s church)? What kind of challenge does this story about Ruth inspire in relation to our answer?

If you think you're up for it, try reading the story again with Crossan's analysis in mind! http://bible.oremus.org/?passage=Ruth

Sue & Albert

When I met Sue (name changed for privacy) at the temporary winter shelter (hosted at another church down the street from ours) where I’ve been volunteering with some local church members over the past few weeks, I didn’t realize she was homeless. In fact, I think I even gave her a dirty look when she said something a little off color, assuming she was a volunteer from another local church. Realizing what I’d done (and that I should be kind to all people), I felt somewhat obliged to get to know Sue after that little mishap. I was worried that maybe she remembered my dirty look, but when I sat down with her to have dinner at the shelter a few nights later it seemed that she didn’t.

Over dinner we talked about how Sue used to be a teacher, about the possible careers she’d been thinking about pursuing now, how long she’d been at the shelter (a few weeks) and how it’s hard to focus when you’re not getting proper nutrition. It was such a friendly conversation that I found myself again forgetting that Sue was homeless and feeling more like I was having a coffee date with my middle-aged mentor who often forgot to take her reading glasses off when sipping her Java. And when we were finished, Sue stood up, made an offhand comment about farting and I could see then that her button up shirt was sloppily tucked into some sweat pants which were covered up to the mid-calf with white socks and paired with some flat dress shoes. I remembered again that Sue was homeless.

As I sat in my bathtub a few nights later (a place where I often ruminate) Sue came into my mind. The temporary shelter would be closing soon and as far as I knew Sue would have to go back to the streets.  And I was suddenly quite worried, “Where would Sue sleep?” I asked myself. “It won’t be safe for a middle-aged woman like that to be out on the street at night, someone could do something bad to her.” I’m not sure exactly why I hadn’t considered these problems before. I guess I figured that Sue had survived on the street before and she’d be able to do it again, but that was before I knew her. I was trying to explain this bathtub epiphany to a friend of mine, Adam, as we trotted along Spring Street downtown after a poetry reading. I pieced together fragments of how I was feeling until finally, I said, “Well, Adam, if you came to me and said, ‘I literally have no where to go, I’m getting kicked out of my apartment and I’m going to be sleeping outside now’ I’d have a serious problem on my hands.” And the fact of the matter is that I’d have that same serious problem if any of my friends told me they’d be sleeping on the streets. I’d tell them it’s not safe, I’d look for a place for them to stay, if worse came to worse, I’d put them on the floor of my studio apartment. So why had I managed to overlook the dangers Sue was facing until just now?

I think some of it has to do with this lie lurking in the back of my brain. It’s the rationale I used to separate myself from others like Sue and it goes something like this: Sue made mistakes and decisions that lead to her being on the streets (and in some sense, she is where she deserves to be). She’ll have to deal with the consequences of those mistakes and fix them when she’s ready. I would say there’s about 10% truth in that and 90% cultural lie. Did Sue make some bad choices? It’s likely, but does she deserve to be where she is? I doubt it. I had (yet another) epiphany about this situation. There’s a very thin line between Sue’s situation and mine – thinner than I previously thought. And I realize I may be oversimplifying a bit, but here’s how my brain’s been working this out based on my limited experiential evidence thus far.

I have another homeless friend, and for now we’ll call him Albert. I had a chance to hear more of Albert’s story this past week when we ate lunch together. Albert was adopted as a baby and moved from Southern California to Minnesota. His adoptive parents locked him in closets, starved him and abused him to the extent that his adopted mother’s sister demanded that she take Albert into her own family. Albert’s new parents (the sister and her husband) already had several children who worked with them on their family farm, but Albert had some health issues that kept him from being able to do that kind of work. One day when Albert was ten years old he got a shoelace caught in a vacuum cleaner when he was doing family chores and was punished for his mistake on two occasions. Like many free spirited children, Albert decided to run away. When the police took him back to his parents, they sent him away to a troubled youth program. From that time on Albert was shuffled around in the foster system and sent to several other youth programs and in the process got involved in some activities that led him down a dark road. He told me he was born in 1966, so he’s been stuck in a cycle of addiction and poverty for quite some time now. Albert loves to read, he’s very smart and has the wit of an academic. He was envious that my husband and I both have college degrees. He believed that with a few more opportunities he may have be sitting behind a desk at a university somewhere rather than bumming on Sunset Boulevard, where he said it was likely that he might end up dead.

I think Albert did make some mistakes, but I don’t think that he made any more serious than I did, at least not in the beginning. I tried to run away from home as a child, it didn’t land me in a center for troubled youth or in the foster care system when I was ten. I’ve been involved in activities I shouldn’t have been and I’ve been broke, but when these things happen, I call my mom or my sister or my grandma or my friends who have good jobs. I’m also lucky because I don’t have an addictive disease. And if I did I used the health insurance I’ve had my whole life to get help and people who love me would be there to walk me through treatment. I have safety net after safety net. So, after talking to Albert, I’m thinking that, yes, we are all responsible for our own actions, but we certainly don’t all deserve to be where we are – I know I don’t.

I don’t yet know what all this means. And in some ways I’d rather stop hanging out with people who are causing me to question why things are the way they are and, more importantly, why I’m okay with it. 

Ash Wednesday and True Fasting

This morning I attended a small Ash Wednesday service with my friends and my husband David at my church in Hollywood. Fasting is a common practice during lent and we read Isaiah 58 together—a reminder of what true fasting looks like. Even beyond fasting (because I honestly don’t do that much of it myself though I find it to be a useful spiritual discipline) I think I could lump many of my own more common “spiritual” practices in with the practice of fasting--things like going to church, singing praise songs, reading my bible. The list goes on.

Today I felt right at home in the Isaiah passage, though sadly I was not playing the part of the characters I’d hoped. I was a confused Israelite. Here’s what I read:

Isaiah 58

Shout out, do not hold back!
  Lift up your voice like a trumpet!
 Announce to my people their rebellion,
 to the house of Jacob their sins.

(God’s trying to get the Israelites attention here. And in case you didn’t catch it, he’s not pleased.)

Yet day after day they seek me
 and delight to know my ways, 
as if they were a nation that practiced righteousness
 and did not forsake the ordinance of their God;
 they ask of me righteous judgments,
 they delight to draw near to God. ‘Why do we fast, but you do not see?
 Why [do we] humble ourselves, but you do not notice?’

And right there in those first lines of verse two I saw myself and my own American Christian culture – we, day after day, seek God and delight to know his ways, as if were a nation, a culture, a church that practiced righteousness and did not forsake God’s ordinances. We take delight in (as the King James puts it) approaching God. But God’s not paying attention, and we’re all confused when we’ve just spent our long weekend at a worship conference singing about how much we love Jesus.

Okay God, what ordinances then have I ignored because I’m trying to be nice to people, I’m not stealing or lying or cheating and I’m reading my Bible and going on mission trips—what am I doing wrong? Here’s the next thing I read:

Yet on the day of your fasting, you do as you please and exploit all your workers. 
Your fasting ends in quarreling and strife, and in striking each other with wicked fists. 
You cannot fast as you do today and expect your voice to be heard on high. Is this the kind of fast I have chosen, 
only a day for people to humble themselves? 
Is it only for bowing one’s head like a reed 
 and for lying in sackcloth and ashes? 
Is that what you call a fast, a day acceptable to the LORD?

So the first thing that comes up is collective exploitation of workers. What I'm hearing from this passage is that people are fasting, lifting their hand high in the worship service (use whatever imagery you like) while simultaneously allowing or contributing to worker exploitation in their community which is something that is causing fights and strife. This is still sounding all too familiar for my liking.

Alright God, what then would true fast look like? What kind of fast would you choose to pay attention to?

Is not this the fast that I choose:
 to loose the bonds of injustice,
 to undo the thongs of the yoke,
 to let the oppressed go free,
 and to break every yoke? 
 Is it not to share your bread with the hungry,
 and bring the homeless poor into your house;
 when you see the naked, to cover them,
 and not to hide yourself from your own kin?

After reading this I find myself in deep sadness because I know what I’ve been doing is not enough. I cannot any longer sit in a church service or go to a Bible study or sing a praise song if it doesn’t lead me to share my wealth and food, free the oppressed, bring strangers into my own house and stop worker exploitation. In fact, based on this passage, I think God would prefer I spend most of my time doing those latter things rather than the former.

Today during the Ash Wednesday service my pastor Ryan came around to each one of us before he imposed the ashes and said, “Reconsider your whole life. Follow the gospel.” God tells Israel in Isaiah 58 that when they follow him in the way he requires that he will heal them, answer them and be near them and they will be transformed—they will be called, “the repairer of the breach,
 the restorer of streets to live in.” As you set out on your journey to fast in God’s way, these are your promises from Isaiah 58:

Then your light shall break forth like the dawn,
 and your healing shall spring up quickly;
 your vindicator shall go before you,
 the glory of the Lord shall be your rearguard. 
Then you shall call, and the Lord will answer;
 you shall cry for help, and he will say, Here I am.

If you remove the yoke from among you,
 the pointing of the finger, the speaking of evil, if you offer your food to the hungry
 and satisfy the needs of the afflicted, 
then your light shall rise in the darkness
 and your gloom be like the noonday. 
The Lord will guide you continually,
 and satisfy your needs in parched places,
  and make your bones strong ;
and you shall be like a watered garden,
 like a spring of water,
 whose waters never fail. Your ancient ruins shall be rebuilt;
 you shall raise up the foundations of many generations; 
you shall be called the repairer of the breach,
 the restorer of streets to live in.

*This post is dedicated to Rachel Stricklin who, at a wedding of a dear friend this past winter, expressed unexpected interest and confidence in my blogging abilities.