Saturday Night Theologian
20 December 2009

Micah 5:2-5a

In September of 1219, in the midst of the Fifth Crusade, Francis of Assisi walked through the crusaders camp outside the city of Damietta, Egypt, and requested permission to see the country's ruler. Sultan Malik al-Kamil welcomed him into the city, and the two men talked, had meals together, and got to know one another over the course of the next several days. Although Francis' hopes of converting the sultan to Christianity failed, the two came away from the encounter with mutual respect, so much so that Francis was actually allowed to preach the gospel within the city. Most importantly, Francis presented an alternative vision of Christianity to Muslims and Christians alike, one that took seriously the teaching of Christianity's founder that people should love their enemies. Today's reading from Micah was originally a fairly obscure passage from one of the prophets, but it came to prominence in early Christianity when it was incorporated into Matthew's gospel as a proof-text that identified Bethlehem as the city of the messiah's birth. It is doubtful that the passage was originally intended to identify the messiah's geographical origin. Instead, the main intent seems to be to give the people of Israel hope that a descendant of David would one day arise to lead them. And what kind of messiah would he be? Not a fearsome warrior defeating enemy troops in battle but a humble person of humble origins, a person whose rule would benefit the oppressed people of the land, a person whose actions were such that people would say of him, "He is the one of peace." Who is a person of peace? Many winners of the Nobel Peace Prize fit the bill: Desmond Tutu, Nelson Mandela, Martin Luther King, Jimmy Carter, the Dalai Lama, Doctors without Borders, the International Campaign to Ban Landmines, Aung San Suu Kyi, Eli Wiesel, Mother Teresa, Amnesty International, Albert Schweitzer ... the list is long and distinguished. This year's winner, President Barack Obama, has big shoes to fill, and all people who love peace hope he is able to do so. As he moves forward in his efforts, and as all people of goodwill strive for a world where peace reigns supreme, few better examples for emulation could be put forward than Francis of Assisi, who walked through a battlefield to try to bring peace.

Psalm 80:1-7 (first published 21 December 2003)

Is your faith strong enough to endure the unendurable? In 1492, the "Christian" rulers of united Spain, Ferdinand and Isabella, expelled the Jews who wouldn't convert to Christianity from their territory. Many Jews left their homeland, their possessions, and their friends, journeying throughout Europe, northern Africa, and the Middle East. Other Jews abandoned their religious moorings and converted to Christianity. Still others pretended to convert, adopting the external trappings of Christianity while maintaining their core Jewish beliefs and customs in secret. These Secret Jews, also called Marranos, continued to observe those aspects of Judaism that they could, and they passed down their faith for hundreds of years to succeeding generations. Psalm 80 describes a time of crisis similar to Spain in 1492. References to Joseph, Ephraim, Manasseh, and Benjamin in the first two verses of the psalm indicate that the historical context centered in the Northern Kingdom of Israel. The reference to Yahweh enthroned on the cherubim alludes to the presence of God that was thought to dwell over the ark of the covenant, which at one time resided in the northern sanctuary of Shiloh. Israel was threatened with annihilation by the Assyrian Empire; what would become of the people and their religion? Would it endure? The psalm is punctuated with a thrice-repeated refrain: "Restore us, O (Yahweh) God (of hosts); let your face shine, that we may be saved." Did God answer the prayers of his worshipers? After the Assyrians invaded, the leaders of the people were deported to other Assyrian territories, and people from other lands were resettled in Israel. Some Israelites fled south to Judah, and others simply became assimilated into the Assyrian empire. A small group, however, appears to have survived with their understanding of God intact, and their descendants had a confrontation about 200 years later with the descendants of Judah who had returned from Babylonian exile: "[The inhabitants of Northern Israel] approached Zerubbabel and the heads of families and said to them, 'Let us build with you, for we worship your God as you do, and we have been sacrificing to him ever since the days of King Esarhaddon of Assyria who brought us here.' But Zerubbabel, Jeshua, and the rest of the heads of families in Israel said to them, 'You shall have no part with us in building a house to our God; but we alone will build to the Lord, the God of Israel, as King Cyrus of Persia has commanded us'" (Ezra 4:2-3). What a tragic state of affairs! A community of faith had continued in existence for generations, remaining as faithful as they could to their religious practices and their God, only to be told that their faith wasn't good enough. Many of the Marranos have experienced similar rejection in modern times, as have the Secret Christians of Japan (the Kakure), and other religious minorities throughout history. Interestingly, the remnant of the Israelite community, rejected by their southern brothers and sisters, continued through the ages, and today the Samaritans still number about 600 in and around the city of Nablus in the West Bank. The examples of the Samaritan community in Israel/Palestine, the Marranos in Spain (and their descendants around the world), and the Kakure Christians in Japan show us that God remains faithful to those who have the courage to worship him to the best of their understanding. By relying on the powerful presence of God, persecuted believers have the strength to endure the unendurable.

Hebrews 10:5-10 (first published 21 December 2003)

In the movie Life is Beautiful, Guido, played by Roberto Benigni, and his wife and son are taken to a concentration camp in Italy. Guido has to hide his son, Giosué so that the Nazis won't kill him, so he tells him that they are playing a giant game of hide and seek, and that the team that wins will get a tank. By taking a terrible situation and transforming it into a game, he is able to protect his son, both physically and emotionally, from the tragedy of the concentration camp. Have you ever "made a virtue of necessity"? When confronted with a situation in which you had no option but to do something unpalatable, or something that under normal circumstances you'd rather not have done, have you managed to make the best of it? If the book of Hebrews was written after the destruction of the Jerusalem temple, as many scholars believe, then the author has transformed a difficult situation--the destruction of the temple and the demise of the sacrificial system so central to Second Temple Judaism--into a statement of hope. God has not brought an end to an important religious rite without replacing it with something much more profound. In the place of actual sacrifice, which was no longer possible, God has substituted the sacrificial death of Jesus, and Jesus' followers have a new relationship with God because of "the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all." Sometimes it takes a tragedy to make us reexamine our understanding of God, and sometimes believers gradually realize, because of changed worldview, that they need to reevaluate their understanding of God and religion. Almost 500 years ago Martin Luther launched a Reformation of the church that brought about profound changes throughout Christianity, and not only among Protestants. The printing press was perhaps the most important invention of the second Christian millennium, because it allowed new ideas to spread far and wide, effectively bringing an end to the established church's control of information. The European "discovery" of the New World and the fall of Byzantium to the Muslims changed the way Europeans thought about themselves and the world, so Luther was the right person in the right place at the right time to proclaim new ideas. We find ourselves today in a similar situation. A new medium of communication--the Internet, and especially the Web--offers individuals unprecedented opportunities to communicate with one another. The dangers of living in a nuclear age have made the peace movement more vital than at any previous time in history, if only because it is now a matter of life of death for the planet. Advances in science have given us a greater understanding of our universe and ourselves. The time is ripe for a new Reformation. Following the example of the author of Hebrews, we need to recognize that the world has changed. We no longer live in the nineteenth century, nor can we return to the 1950s--and we shouldn't want to! We live in a brave new world of opportunities and dangers, and Christians need to set positive examples for people of other faiths and people of no faith. We need to offer our generation and subsequent generations a picture of God that is compatible with science while remaining connected to our historical faith. We need to offer forms of worship that are meaningful to people living in a postmodern world. We need to offer analyses of both the Bible and current events that are consistent with our new understanding of how God works in the world. The author of Hebrews boldly states that Christ abolished the sacrificial system in order to do God's will in a new way. What aspects of our current understanding of Christianity do we need to abolish in order to do God's will in the third millennium?

Luke 1:39-45, (46-55) (first published 21 December 2003)

In the trailer to the movie American Beauty, the audience is shown what appears on the surface to be a normal, suburban, American family: husband, wife, daughter, neighbors, job. But everything is not right. There's conflict, betrayal, love, hate, obsession, rebellion, violence. Still that's not all there is. Look closer, the trailer urges, and find the beauty in all of it. Christianity is based on the teachings of a man executed as a common criminal, who was born to a woman who got pregnant out of wedlock. Who could find anything of beauty in a story like that? Elizabeth did. When Mary visited her relative in the final days of Elizabeth's pregnancy, Elizabeth greeted her with the strange words, "Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb." Despite the circumstances, Elizabeth saw the beauty of Mary's situation. Are we able to see beauty in difficult circumstances today? How does the church react to an unwed, pregnant teenager? Do we pile our reprobation on top of her already well-developed guilt? Or do we offer our support and love through a difficult time? Can we see the good that can come out of the situation? And how do we deal with those in our midst who have been convicted of crimes? Do we shun them and hope they'll go to another church, or just drop out? Do we condemn the criminal to a life of perpetual ostracism? Do we think of prison as a place of punishment or rehabilitation? I heard Jimmy Carter speak once about the prison system. He said that when he was governor of Georgia, he and his fellow southern governors would compete with one another to see who could develop the most enlightened, effective prisons, where convicts were rehabilitated and recidivism was minimized. Now, he said, governors compete with one another to see which state can have the harshest laws. Rehabilitation is hardly discussed, and recidivism is expected. Christians need to remember our roots and show love to those in difficult circumstances, even if the circumstances are of their own making. In Mary's beautiful song, the Magnificat, she speaks of God looking with favor on the lowly, not only herself, but others like her. If we truly believe in the God Mary spoke of, we would do well to consider the poor and lowly, the unwed mothers and convict fathers, the homeless and the illegal aliens, with the compassion that God has for them. Maybe then we'll see the beauty that's in all of them.