The Occupy Wall Street movement became a nationally acknowledged
phenomenon this week, when mainstream news organizations (belatedly)
began paying attention to the ever-growing crowds and politicians
weighed in with their opinions on the protests. House Majority Leader
Eric Cantor likened the peaceful demonstrators to "a mob," while Reps.
Raúl Grijalva and Keith Ellison said that they were "inspired by
the growing grassroots movements around the country." Although
different messages are emphasized by the thousands of people involved in
these protests around the country, one consistent theme is that the big
banks that were largely responsible for tanking the U.S. economy have
been bailed out by the federal government, but they aren't doing
anything to help ordinary people who need large-scale investment in the
economy in order to generate jobs. To add insult to injury, top bank
executives are pulling down multi-million-dollar salaries and bonuses,
while at the same time one big bank bailed out by the people, Bank of
America, announced that it would begin charging people $5 a month to use
debit cards. Another theme that has shown up in at least some rallies
is the blatant corruption of government made possible by the Supreme
Court's Citizens United ruling, which idiotically equates speech
with money and corporations with individuals, making corporate campaign
donations essentially unregulated. People are protesting because they
see what happens when greed runs rampant and is assisted, even promoted,
by those in power. But where did this lust for money and power come
from? Today's reading from Exodus tells the story of another case of
frenzy caused by the misuse of gold. Moses had been on the mountain for
many days, and the Israelites were growing worried that both he and God
had abandoned them. When they expressed their concern to Aaron, he
proposed a solution. If the people would bring their gold jewelry to
him, he would cast a golden calf that would represent God. The people
would have something that they valued and could see to worship. The
concept seemed simple: make a representative image of God that would
give the people something tangible to follow. What could go wrong?
Plenty! The worship of the golden calf quickly devolved into an orgy of
gluttony, licentiousness, and raucous behavior. When God observed what
had happened, God offered to destroy them and start over with only Moses
and his descendants, but Moses protested and God relented. The story of
the golden calf may originally have been an indictment of the Aaronic
priesthood or of the Northern Kingdom, which purportedly had similar
calf idols in its two main sanctuaries. In today's context, however, an
obvious application is to the modern obsession with gold, money, wealth,
and all it offers people. Churches offer wealth-building seminars,
preach that God will bless the faithful financially, and support
political candidates who promise to let them and their social class--and
the social class to which they aspire to belong--hang on to the maximum
amount of loot. Where did this list for money and power come from? It
came from the greed that lies inside each of us, stimulated by those who
tell us that we absolutely must have the newest car, the biggest house,
the most technologically advanced gadgets. It is encouraged by the
notion that we are no longer our brother and sister's keeper, that if
they can't fend for themselves, they can just die. It came from the
cult of the individual championed by people like Ayn Rand and her modern
devotees, for whom self-aggrandizement and self-promotion are the
ultimate virtues, while concern for the poor and love for one's enemy
are quaint, outmoded, or even dangerous ideas. But these so-called
outdated ideas are the foundation of Christianity, and they lie at the
heart of other major world religions as well. Whether or not the Occupy
Wall Street movement turns into something that can counteract the Tea
Party movement that began (with considerable corporate backing) a couple
of years ago remains to be seen, but it should inspire people of faith
to examine their own motivations, shedding the vestiges of greed and
self-concern that too often dominate our lives, and pledging anew to
strive to live as part of a larger community of people with common
concerns, common hopes, and common dreams.
Psalm 106:1-6, 19-23 (first published 9 October 2005)
The Jewish holiday Yom Kippur, or the Day of Atonement, begins at
sunset on October 12. In the Bible it was a national day of fasting and
repentance, a day of introspection on which to confess one's sins and to
commit oneself to a new life. Psalm 106 is a psalm that might have been
read on Yom Kippur, for it rehearses the nation's past sins and thanks God
for divine forgiveness. The importance of corporate confession of sins
escapes the notice of too many Christians today, and it is completely
absent from the American national consciousness. America has a great
history, but it is also a terrible history. Deeds of incredible courage
mix with acts of unspeakable cruelty. Triumphs of justice are
interspersed with depravities of injustice. In this respect Americans are
no different from citizens of any other country or group of people. Our
problem is that we too often fail to acknowledge our past sins, and even
if we do acknowledge them, we often refuse to identify with those who
committed them. "If we had been in that situation, we would never have
committed such atrocities," we tell ourselves. But how do we know? Our
ancestors did, and are we better people than they were? It is a common
practice nowadays, when considering a prospective Supreme Court justice,
to hearken back to the nation's founders and invoke their wisdom, and
indeed they did exhibit great foresight in crafting the U.S. Constitution.
However, the Constitution was also a seriously flawed and unjust document
in its treatment of women and especially of slaves. When we are able to
see both the strengths and weaknesses of our predecessors, we are able to
acknowledge that we have strengths and weaknesses as well, though from our
own vantage point in the present it is sometimes hard to see in what ways
we are sinning against our brothers and sisters both here and abroad. On
this Day of Atonement, this time of introspection, let us then acknowledge
the sins of our past: our virtual extermination of the native peoples of
North and South America; our participation in the kidnapping, torture,
murder, and enslavement of millions of people from Africa and their
descendants; our persecution of people who worshiped God in a different
manner from the dominant, accepted forms of worship; our numerous
travesties of justice, including the Salem witch trials, the trial of the
Haymarket anarchists, and the trial of Julius and (particularly) Ethel
Rosenberg; our interment of Japanese Americans during World War II; our
lynching and persecution of innumerable African Americans; our culture of
violence, that produces almost as many weapons as there are U.S. citizens;
our institutionalized racism manifested in our ghettoes and prisons; our
state-sponsored humiliation and torture of prisoners in our "war on
terror"; our sanction of judicial murder; our history of discrimination
against women and people of color; our wars of imperialism, from the
Spanish-American War, to Vietnam, to Iraq; our failure to provide adequate
housing, medical care, and education to many of our citizens. The list
goes on, with some events from our distant past and others that continue
into the present. The purpose of listing our sins is not to devalue our
nation or to portray it as more wicked than any other nation. The value
of proclaiming such a litany of sins is three-fold. First, when we
acknowledge our past sins, we are reminded of them and are encouraged not
to repeat them in the future. Second, when we identify ourselves with our
predecessors who committed these sins, we admit that we too are capable of
great evil and miscarriages of justice and are thus in need of divine
mercy and forgiveness. Third, when we see ourselves as sinful people in
need of God's mercy, we are less inclined to label other nations as evil,
as though we lived in a Manichean world where we were totally good and our
enemies totally evil, and we are therefore more willing to engage in
dialog and persuasion rather than force. The psalm ends with a cry for
God's help, and we too must cry to God for forgiveness for our sins, for
they are numerous--but not too numerous to be forgiven!
Philippians 4:1-9 (first published 9 October 2005)
The first Nobel Prizes for 2005 were announced this week, and it got me
to thinking about what people are remembered for. How would you like to
be remembered? Most of us would like to be remembered for our wisdom, or
our compassion, or our courage. We wouldn't mind being remembered because
of an athletic or academic accomplishment, for holding political office,
or for winning a prestigious award of some sort. None of us would like to
be remembered for our shortcomings, failures, or sins. Nor would we like
to be remembered for our pettiness, but that's exactly what we think of
when we hear the names Euodia and Syntyche, two women leaders in the
Philippian church who had some sort of disagreement with one another.
The verses that mention them are often overlooked when people read this
passage from Philippians, because we want to get on to the verses that
talk about rejoicing, prayer, and the peace of God. We bypass the message
to Euodia and Syntyche at our own peril, however, because it is a message
we need to hear. When church members fight with one another, the church
becomes ineffectual. Prospects don't want to join a church where they see
bickering. On a larger scale, potential converts might be frightened away
by Christians fighting with one another. This is not to say that
Christians should agree with one another on everything. That will never
happen, nor should it. We are going to have differences of opinion on
matters of faith and practice, and we must accept that. Some people see
the multitude of different denominations as a problem, but I don't think
it's necessarily a problem. We all need places where we can worship God
with a measure of comfort. On the other hand, we also need to remember
that we have no guarantee of comfort in the church. In fact, if we are
always comfortable, we are probably not being challenged, and we're
certainly not being confronted with new ideas. We Christians need to
learn to accept one another's differences of opinion and approach to
Christianity without feeling the need to convert others to our own
opinion. Even worse, we should never assume that our understanding of the
truth should be normative for everyone else. My biggest problem with
fundamentalists is not the beliefs that they hold but rather their
assumption that their doctrines and practices are required of all good (or
true) Christians. I'm perfectly happy for people to hold views of the
Bible, of faith, of salvation, and even of God that are quite different
from mine. I believe that I can learn more from people who have a
different perspective than I can from people who share my approach to
religion. All I ask is that those who approach Christianity differently
extend me the same courtesy. If Christianity ever ceases to be an
important religion in the world, it won't be because "Christian" nations
have been conquered by people of different faiths, it will be because
Christians are so busy fighting among themselves that they don't even
notice when the world finally dismisses Christianity as a serious
contender for their loyalty.
Matthew 22:1-14 (first published 9 October 2005)
When early Christians retold the parable of the Wedding Banquet, they interpreted the guests who were invited first but refused to come to the feast as the Jews, and they saw themselves as the people from the streets who were invited to attend. In the first century, such an analysis might make sense, although of course the bulk of the earliest Christians were Jews themselves, but how can this parable be applied in the context of a predominantly Gentile church in the midst of a Gentile world? Now it is reasonable to associate the first group of invitees with those who have grown up in the church and take its blessings and benefits for granted, who see themselves as God's chosen people. What the parable teaches us is that God's "chosen people" can never take their chosenness for granted. The God who chose one group can un-choose the same group and substitute another. Similarly, the group that responded positively at one point can grow complacent and satisfied, no longer worthy of the moniker "chosen people." Matthew adds to this parable another, originally separate, parable, about the guest at the feast who wasn't dressed properly. The king orders him to be cast outside, where he cannot participate in the joys of the feast, and the parable concludes with the words of Jesus, "Many are called, but few are chosen." In fact, even those who are chosen at one time may not be chosen at another, because they have neglected to conduct themselves properly as inhabitants of God's kingdom. The good news is that, if they amend their ways, they can be chosen again. This is not to say that only the worthy are chosen. On the contrary, no one who is chosen is worthy of the indescribable blessings of God. However, once we are chosen, we are responsible for living our lives in accordance with the precepts of the kingdom: loving our neighbors, praying for our adversaries, helping those in need, etc. Some people avoid Christianity, and other organized religions, because they believe that they will have too many rules to follow and their lives will be too restricted. Yes, there will be restrictions, which are for the benefit of both those in the kingdom and others, but there will also be great blessings. After all, Jesus compares the kingdom of God to a wedding banquet, not a funeral.