Saturday Night Theologian
6 November 2011

Deuteronomy 34:1-12 (first published 6 November 2005)

A colleague of mine recently returned from a visit to India. One of the places she visited was Calcutta, where the Missionaries of Charity continue to operate after the death of their founder, Mother Teresa. Because of her life of service and dedication to the poor, Mother Teresa is on the fast track to becoming a saint in the Roman Catholic Church, having already been declared Blessed by Pope John Paul II in 2003. It is not only Catholics who revere her, however. My friend reported that many Hindus in Calcutta now count Mother Teresa as a Hindu goddess, and she showed us photos of people coming to revere her. The idea that a new god or goddess could be added to the pantheon in modern times is hard for most people in the West to understand, as is the possibility of choosing from among many deities one who would be the chief object of one's worship. If we don't understand the real possibility of choosing one god among many to worship, then we don't understand the background of today's reading from the book of Joshua. Modern Jews and Christians often quote a portion of this passage as an affirmation of our faith in the God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Jesus: "As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord." We don't always pay much attention to what proceeds it: "Choose this day whom you will serve, whether the gods your ancestors served in the region beyond the (Euphrates) River or the gods of the Amorites in whose land you are living." The choice the Israelites faced was a real one. The concept of absolute monotheism did not yet exist, so Yahweh was just one god among many that they might have chosen. Joshua was challenging them to consider what Yahweh had done for them and their ancestors and to choose to serve Yahweh rather than any of the other gods who were viable alternatives. Because those of us raised under the influence of the three major Western religions accept monotheism as a given, we rarely if ever consider the alternatives to worshiping our God. After all, since there is only one God, are there any real options when it comes to worship, other than just not worshiping at all? I think there are, and I think many Christians in today's world have fallen into the worship of other gods without realizing it. One alternative god is Money, also known as Greed. Another god is Pleasure. Others are Family, Career, Happiness, and Power. These gods are fairly obvious, and many acknowledge both their existence and the draw that they have on people today. I believe that there is another, more insidious, god that many people worship today, one that hides in plain sight. This god takes the name of the true God, but substitutes its own soul for God's. This god is a nationalistic god whose followers substitute patriotism for a concern for the whole world. This god is a capitalistic god whose followers value personal gain over caring for the poor. This god is a chauvinistic god whose followers consider men more worthy than women. This god is a homophobic god whose followers use the language of family values to mask their prejudice against gays. This god is a sectarian god whose followers deny entry into their god's kingdom to any who do not share exactly the same faith experiences. This is the god that too many people in our country and around the world worship on Sunday mornings and serve throughout the week. There is a choice to make today, just as there was in Joshua's day. Will we serve one of the alternative gods, some of whom masquerade as the true God, or will we commit ourselves to the God whose love is available to all people equally?

Psalm 90:1-6, 13-17 (first published 25 September 2005)

Why do we study history? We do so for several reasons. First, we study history because it helps us to understand why the world is the way it is. Second, history gives us a sense of where we fit into the great scheme of world events. Third, as we analyze and re-sift the data, and as we discover new data, we come to new and sometimes better understandings of the past. Fourth, we study history in order to learn from the successes and failures of our predecessors. Fifth, from a negative perspective, we study history so that we don't repeat our previous mistakes. As the philosopher George Santayana said, "Those who do not remember the past are condemned to relive it." History is a retelling of the past, but one question we always need to keep in mind is, whose history are we recounting? The psalmist gives us the official Israelite perspective on history, praising God for the miracles associated with the exodus and God's provision in the desert. If we read the whole psalm, we find that the psalmist recalls the shortcomings of the Israelites and God's punishment of those who were unfaithful. However, since the psalm presents the official Jewish (i.e., southern) perspective, the Israelites of the north (Ephraim) are disparaged more than the descendants of the tribe of Judah. If this psalm had been written in the north, how would it have been different? The psalmist might well have included the rebellion of the people against God and God's subsequent judgment, but he might also have noted those in the north who were faithful to God and did not rebel, people whose names have, for the most part, fallen out of the history compiled in the south. The psalmist might also have chosen to emphasize the failings of the south relative to the north, such as the role Solomon's son, King Rehoboam, played in the dissolution of the kingdom. Which of these histories would be more accurate? The answer is that both are accurate, because they truthfully record events of the past, but they offer varying perspectives, emphases, and interpretations of past events. Those of us who were raised hearing the official national narrative of U.S. history from an early age, particularly if we graduated from high school many years ago, might be shocked to learn that alternative histories of the U.S. have been written and offer a quite different perspective. Dee Brown's Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee presents a history of the Old West from a Native American perspective, which naturally takes a dim view of the westward push of the United States and the displacement and frequent slaughter of the Indians. Howard Zinn's A People's History of the United States avoids focusing on the acts of presidents and Congress and instead tells the story of the common people, especially those who were least able to speak for themselves in their own day. American history can be told from many perspectives: white males, African Americans, women, businesses and corporations, labor movements and unions, the rich, and the underclass, just to name a few. If we really want to understand our world today, we would be well served to familiarize ourselves with perspectives other than the official perspective or those that serve the needs of our own social class. All these histories offer interpretations of history that are valid for certain groups of people. As Christians, it is our duty to understand as well as we can the perspectives of those who differ from us so that we can begin to build bridges between ourselves and others. As the psalmist says, "We will tell to the coming generation the glorious deeds of the Lord, and his might, and the wonders that he has done." For our portrait of God to be convincing and meaningful to other people, we must take into account their understanding of both God and history.

1 Thessalonians 2:1-8 (first published 6 November 2005)

In Buddhist thought, life is characterized by suffering. When one life is over, it begins again in a different form, born again to suffer. After many such lives, through dint of effort and enlightenment, it is possible to pass out of life into Nirvana, where one finally escapes suffering and is joined with others in the great world-soul. Passion, desire, and even consciousness are extinguished, and the soul find perfect peace. Eternal life is a great evil in the Buddhist way of thinking, for it implies both continued suffering and the failure to attain enlightenment. In Christian thought, by contrast, eternal life itself is peace, because in eternity the believer abides with God. As Augustine said, "Inquietum est cor nostrum, donec requiescat in te": "Our heart is restless until it rests in you." Paul writes to comfort the Thessalonians who have lost loved ones before Christ has returned to collect his faithful, an event assumed to be in the near future. Don't worry, Paul says, for the dead won't be forgotten but will join the living in rising to meet Christ at his Parousia. This passage tells us that Christians, like Buddhists and people of many other faiths, long for the rest that can only come through union with the divine. Whether that rest comes through losing one's own identity, as in classical Buddhism, or involves the retention of identity, as in Christian thought, it is a desire that unites humanity. Like Job's friend Eliphaz, we know that human suffering is just as natural as the upward drift of sparks from a fire (Job 5:7), and at some point in our lives, if we live long enough, we long for rest. It is the assurance of rest in the presence of God that Paul says we can count on, not some particular order of resurrection or rapture or timetable for the second coming. The exact sequence of events is of little concern to Paul, as it was of little concern to his readers. What they wanted to know was whether their loved ones who had gone on before them would partake in the rest of the Lord alongside those who remained behind. Yes they will, Paul said. All who love God, living or dead, will find rest for their restless souls in God.

Matthew 22:34-46 (first published 6 November 2005)

Toward the end of the first century C.E., Christians in Judea and Galilee were expelled from their spiritual home, the synagogue. In retrospect, it was probably necessary for Jews and Christians to separate, since Christianity was becoming predominantly Gentile and since its belief system was beginning to depart radically from that of rabbinic Judaism. At the time, though, the rift was painful. What would the newly orphaned community do? Could they survive the time of turmoil and persevere until Jesus returned as he had promised? The Gospel of Matthew is addressed to a Jewish Christian audience, probably one that had separated from the synagogue, perhaps in the fairly recent past. As they struggled with new social realities, many of them felt helpless: sad about their break from the past and uncertain about their preparedness for the future. The parable of the Wise and Foolish Virgins deals with the trepidation and aimlessness that many of them felt. The message to the church that the parable teaches is the importance of preparedness. In the story, five of the bridesmaids were ready for the coming of bridegroom's party, and five were not. Alongside the lesson concerning the need for preparation, another deals with the fact that no one can prepare someone else for the eventualities of life. Much as we would like to prepare our children, our families, or our friends, we can't do it. All we can do is pray, show them the ropes, and lead by example. Are you ready for whatever God brings your way?