(Mark 5.1-20)
A sermon preached by Dave Shull
Spirit of Peace United Church of Christ
Sammamish, Washington
The 26th Sunday in Ordinary Time – September 27, 2009
The comedienne Anna Russell is most famous for her routine about Wagner's opera Ring of the Niebelung. The Ring is a 15-hour opera about a gold ring that gives whoever has it the power to become master of the universe. It's an amazing story. And it's very, very involved. In her telling of it, Anna Russell talks about how the ring was made by Alberich the Dwarf. And then she's off, describing gods and humans and the children born of couplings of gods and humans, and talking about how they get all mixed up with each other. After about 15 minutes of detailing the machinations, Anna Russell says, "Then Siegfried gets the ring….D'you remember the ring?" The story has gotten so involved that the audience can be excused for forgetting about the opera's main attraction.
I kind of feel that way about my sermon this morning. Between January and June I preached on the same gospel. Then this summer, I preached about questions you wanted to hear a sermon about. Today we return to that same gospel. But after having taken a break from it for over three months, I feel like asking, "D'you remember Mark?"
Because it's been so long since we took a detour from our leisurely walk through the gospel of Mark, I thought I'd remind us where we've been.
Unlike Matthew and Luke, Mark's gospel has no story about the birth of Jesus. At the beginning of the story, the adult Jesus comes from Nazareth to the River Jordan. John the Baptizer baptizes him. As Jesus comes out of the river, he hears God's voice saying, "You are my Son, chosen and marked by my love, pride of my life" (Mark 1.11, The Message, Eugene Peterson, InterVarsity Press).
He's hasn't had a chance to dry off before the Holy Spirit drives Jesus into the desert. For 40 days, the devil tries to get Jesus to turn around from the hard path God has called him to walk. The devil says, "Look, Jesus, where is a life of sacrifice, compassion, and non-violence gonna get you? People will look at you and think you're a pathetic weakling. And they'll think your naïve for believing God's love is gonna get you anywhere. Jesus," the devil says, "take the easy road. Power, wealth, intimidating people and keeping them afraid of you: that is how the world works. Worship those values. Worship me." Jesus refuses.
Jesus returns from the desert with one message, "Repent, for God's kingdom is here" (Mark 1.14-15). Repent means to turn your life around. And the kingdom of God is any time and any place people live the compassion, sacrifice, and non-violence of Jesus. Mark spends the rest of the gospel telling the story of how Jesus keeps inviting people to turn their lives around. And how he keeps showing them what the kingdom of God is like.
Jesus spends most of his time with the people who'd never show up on anybody's 'A' list. He heals sick people. He eats with tax collectors and prostitutes. He gathers a truly unimpressive group of followers who usually don't have a clue what he's doing or why. Why does Jesus hang out with people like this? He knows they know what others think of them. He knows they know people see them as losers and nobodies. He knows they know people look at them as people they wish they didn't have to look at. Which means they aren't ashamed to admit their lives are pretty miserable. They aren't ashamed to admit how hungry they are for love. They have been locked in the prison of their loneliness long enough. They have no one to impress, they have no reputation to defend. So when Jesus calls them out of the darkness of loneliness, and calls them into the light of his love and the love of his followers, they scream, "YES!"
Mark wants the Jesus he tells stories about to free us. So when we hear Jesus calling out to us, "Follow me," we say the same thing.
So we come to our reading for this morning. Listen for a word from God.
Jesus and the disciples reached the territory of the Gerasenes on the other side of the Sea of Galilee. And when he disembarked, a man with an unclean spirit at once came out from the tombs towards him. The man lived in the tombs and no one could secure him any more, even with a chain. He had often been secured with fetters and chains but had snapped the chains and broken the fetters, and no one had the strength to control him. All night and all day, among the tombs and in the mountains, he would howl and gash himself with stones.
Catching sight of Jesus from a distance, he ran up and fell at his feet and shouted at the top of his voice, "What do you want with me, Jesus, son of the Most High God? In God's name, do not torture me!" For Jesus had been saying to him, "Come out of the man, unclean spirit." Then Jesus asked, "What is your name?" He answered, "My name is Legion, for there are many of us." And he begged him earnestly not to send them out of the district.
Now on the mountainside there was a great herd of pigs feeding, and the unclean spirits begged him, "Send us into the pigs, let us go into them." So he gave them leave. With that, the unclean spirits came out and went into the pigs, and the herd of about 2000 pigs charged down the cliff into the lake, and there they were drowned. The men looking after the pigs ran off and told their story in the city and in the country round about; and the people came to see what had really happened. They came to Jesus and saw the demoniac sitting there – the man who had had the legion in him – properly dressed and in his full senses, and they were afraid.
And those who had witnessed it reported what had happened to the demoniac and what had become of the pigs. Then they began to implore Jesus to leave their neighbourhood. As he was getting into the boat, the man who had been possessed begged to be allowed to stay with him. Jesus would not let him but said, "Go home to your people and tell them all that the Lord's mercy has done for you." So the man ran off and proclaimed in the Ten Towns all that Jesus had done for him. Everyone was amazed (Mark 5.1-20, adapted from The New Jerusalem Bible © 1985 Doubleday & Co.).
Mark could not have painted a more painful picture of someone locked in a prison of loneliness. In Jesus' day, contact with the dead and with graves made people unclean. Demon-possessed people were unclean. No wonder he howls at night and strikes himself with stones. With no one to love or be loved by, he has forgotten he is a human being.
Jesus refuses to leave us locked in the prison of loneliness. Jesus refuses to leave us locked in any prison. Remember what he said when he came back from the devil's temptations. Repent. Turn your lives around. The kingdom of God is right here. Make it real with your lives. So prisons of loneliness are burst open . . . and every person is welcomed into a home at whose only hearth is love.
Repent. Turn your lives around. The kingdom of God is right here. Make it real with your lives. It's Jesus' invitation to us. (The choir sings these verses)
"The Love Burning Deep" (Words © Kathy Galloway; music © 1981 Ernest Sands, OCP Publications)
(1) Come out of the darkness, come out of the shadow, come out of the endless night,
all you who are poor now, all you who are broken, all you who are bowed by fight.
Come into the light of God's sacred intention, come under the shelter of Her hand;
here you may find riches, here you may find healing, here now you may rise and stand.
(2) Come out of your prisons, come out from your ghettoes,
come out from behind your walls.
Leave all your distractions, leave all your derisions, and answer Her when She calls.
For She is your end as She was your beginning, She is the desire of all your days,
in Her love is fullness, in Her love is wholeness, holy will be all Her ways.
Come out. Come out, Jesus calls. What binds you? What scares you? What oppresses you? What keeps you stuck? What keeps you from soaring? Or dancing? Or smiling? Jesus calls to us: Come out of your prison. Come into my presence. Come into my heart. Come into my love. Follow me. And be free.
So why doesn't Jesus let this newly-freed, newly-healed man get into the boat with him? Jesus tells him, Go home to your people (5.19, The New Jerusalem Bible). Which means this left-for-dead man once had a home. Maybe there are people in his village who still remember him. Maybe there are even some people who once loved him, and who will run out to me him when he walks back home. Like he's been raised from the dead. Whole. On fire and in love with the God who sets us free.
But what kind of freedom is this? Is it like a having a for-all-eternity condo on Waikiki? Listen to the rest of Christ's freedom song.
(3) No more will you rest now, no more take your ease now,
no more let your life go by;
always you will seek Her, forever desire Her until the day you die.
Her love will consume you, blazing deep within you, burning away all that is not true,
until you embrace Her, in flesh and in spirit holy you and wholly you.
Dorothy Day, who started the Catholic Worker houses of hospitality in the poorest areas of this country, knew following Jesus wasn't about the rest and ease that is an escape from life. She knew when Jesus calls us out of our prisons, he calls us into a ministry of love. Dorothy Day said, "Love is a harsh and dreadful thing to ask of us, but it is the only answer" (Robert Ellsberg, ed., Dorothy Day: Selected Writings, Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Press, 1992, p. 339).
When God call us out of our prisons, God does not call us into lives of rest and ease. But Jesus doesn't call his followers to burn ourselves out, either. He practiced Sabbath. He took time away from the crowds. He ate with friends and sat by the sea and danced at wedding feasts. He's not calling us to outdo each other in becoming martyrs. What Jesus is doing is saying, I want to free you from whatever imprisons you. I call you out of your prisons . . . into a new life. A new life of following me, and following people who follow me . . . so we can call others out of their prisons, into new life. We cannot rest and be at ease when so many people remain locked in prisons of poverty, war, addiction, fear, and oppression.
And in Sammamish and Issaquah, where so many are wealthy, people can find themselves locked in their own kinds of prison. One Christian writer puts it this way: "I know enough rich folks to know the loneliness that is all too familiar to many of them. I read a study comparing the health of a society with its economics. [A]nd one of the things it [said] is that wealthy countries like ours have the highest rates of depression, suicide, and loneliness. We are the richest and the most miserable people in the world" Shane Claiborne, The Irresistible Revolution, Zondervan, 2006, p. 133). And he adds, "I feel sorry that so many of us have settled for a lonely world of independence and riches when we could all experience the fullness of life in community and interdependence" (p. 134).
When Peter and I were in Scotland last month, we hiked to the top of a hill. We looked across the valley at a couple of mountains that had nothing on them but rocks and heather. Peter said, "Man are those barren." I said, "To me, those mountains are open. Wide open. I don't think they're barren at all. For me, barren is when I look out the dining room window and see two big apartment buildings, and realize I don't know anybody in any of them."
What prison are you in? What prison is God calling you out of? What prison doors does God call Spirit of Peace to commit ourselves to fling open . . . so newly freed people can join us in our version of the kingdom of God . . . in this home whose only hearth is love. Amen.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Sunday, September 20, 2009
A New Kind of "Normal"
(Revelation 13.11, 14-18; 19.11-15; 22.1-5)
A sermon preached by Dave Shull
Spirit of Peace United Church of Christ
Sammamish, Washington
The 25th Sunday in Ordinary Time: September 20, 2009
The eleventh and final in a summer series on topics church members asked to hear sermons about.
This morning's is the third to address the question: What is the Revelation to John about?
Three weeks ago during the sermon talkback, Dorothy asked, "What in the world is the Book of Revelation about?" This is the third a final sermon on that question . . . at least in this incarnation. I've spent this amount of time on Dorothy's questions because I think it raises two key issues for Christians.
First, how do we interpret the Bible – specifically those parts of it that seem so violent? Last week I talked about how some rabbis in the first century, and St. Augustine in the fourth century, came to the same conclusion. The sacred stories of our faith have one message: God's compassion for creation, and God's call for us to respond to the compassion God gives us by loving creation and loving ourselves. So for Christians, that means every verse of the Bible sings God's love for us. Every verse of the Bible calls us to sing God's love back to all of creation and to ourselves. So we even try to hear those parts of the Bible that seem to justify violence, cruelty, and dividing the world between insiders and outsiders, the saved and the damned, as a song about compassion. And what these rabbis and St. Augustine tell us is that even if the original intention of the authors of these stories was to say God blesses violence or bigotry, we must change what that story says. Because God is not served by anything but a people who is shaped by compassion. And a people who shapes others in compassion.
The second issue a study of Revelation brings up is this: Christians need to know enough about this book so we can respond to people who know we go to church and who ask us what Revelation is about. And we need to know enough about it so, if we hear a Christian assert that it justifies violence or bigotry or self-righteousness, we can offer a different picture of what the Revelation to John is about. No longer can Christians surrender the interpretation of this book to conservative Christians just because we don't like much of what it seems to say. We need to know it so we can share what we believe it means.
So this morning, I'd like to share three specific ways we can talk about Revelation.
The first has to do with the symbols Revelation uses, and a way to understand and talk about them. For centuries, Christians have seen this symbols as coded predictions of actual events in the future. So Christians have spent a lot of time and energy looking for what they call "the Anti-Christ" because they hear in John's book a prediction that such a servant of the devil will show up at some future point in history. When the images and symbols John uses address specific people at the time he wrote to seven churches in western Turkey. So we need to look at these images as images from John's world. And then look for ways his message about these images speaks to us today.
Listen for a word from God.
I saw a second beast come out of the earth. It had two horns like a lamb, but it spoke like a dragon….It deceived the inhabitants of the earth with the miracles it was able to work.
And it ordered them to set up a statue in honor of the beast who had been wounded by the sword and revived. It was given permission to breathe life into the statue, so that the statue could speak and cause all who refused to worship the statue to be killed. It forced anyone – small and great, rich and poor, free and oppressed – to be branded on the right hand or on the forehead. No one could buy or sell without the mark – that is, the name of the beast, or the number that stood for its name.
Wisdom is required here. Let those who have insight figure out a number for this beast – a 'human' number: 666 (Revelation 13.11, 14-18; the verses from Revelation quoted throughout this sermon are adapted from The Inclusive New Testament, Priests for Equality, 1994).
If George Lucas were putting this scene on the screen, he'd have a Darth Vader kind of beast who terrorizes the people into submission. But John's audience wouldn't see that kind of character in what John as written at all. Most Bible scholars believe John has created these creatures to represent specific people in his world. And his readers and listeners know who he's talking about (Craig Koester, Revelation and the End of All Things, Eerdmans, 2001, p. 134).
The beast with the 666 was the Roman Emperor Nero. Nero was the poster boy for embodied evil; he's like Adolph Hitler is today. Nero had committed suicide by the time John wrote Revelation around 100CE. But everyone knew about Nero. He'd tortured and killed thousands of Christians. The relationship between 666 and Nero works like this. Every Hebrew letter had a numerical value attached to it. It's like 'a' is 5, 'b' is 10', 'c' is 15. The numerical value of the Hebrew letters for "Emperor Nero" add up to 666 (Koester, p. 133).
So Nero is the beast with the 666, which Christians since Revelation call the Anti-Christ. Now the beast who comes out of the sea that Gloria just read about – this beast with the horns like a lamb who talks like a dragon – that beast work for Nero. John's audience would recognize that beast as all of the government officials who implement Nero's orders. They were the ones who did the actual torturing and killing of Christians and other enemies of the Empire.
So in talking about the beast from the sea, and Nero, who is portrayed as a beast from the land, John isn't predicting that in some specific point in the future, a figure whose name can be contorted into a connection to 666 is going to come to try to convince all the Christians in the world to worship the devil. He's referring to specific people everyone he's writing to would recognize.
But he's doing it in a way that shows us he is a true student of human nature. Tyrants are able to hold onto their power as long as they can keep people afraid of them. Fear keeps people from resisting their oppressors. One of the ways we can lessen the amount of fear we have is by learning how to laugh at what we fear. And John has created a symbol of these government officials who do whatever Nero tells them in ways that can help his listeners laugh at these people who have the power to hurt and kill them.
The beast has two horns like a lamb. Up to this point in this story, the only lamb John has mentioned is Jesus. John talks about Jesus as the sacrificial lamb – the one who was willing to die rather than stop being who God called him to be. Jesus is the lamb. So here's this beast who has two horns like a lamb. And John's readers laugh. Does this beast think we're so gullible, that we'll follow this beast just because he's pretending to be Jesus, the Lamb?
Then John adds the fact that this beast talks like a dragon. A chapter earlier, we learned the dragon stands for the devil. Talk about a wolf in sheep's clothing! The beast pretends to be a lamb, but it talks like a dragon. If it talks like the devil, it is the devil. So John's listeners aren't going to go anywhere near it.
Then John says the beast has the power to make a statue talk. That would send his listeners into hysterics. Because everyone in the Roman Empire knew the story of Alexander the False Prophet. Alexander built a little chapel. Then he made a statue, and put it in the chapel. He put hinges in the jaws, so he could move the jaws with levers. Then he stuck a tube from the mouth through the back of the statue's neck. So someone hiding behind the statue could speak into the tube. And Alexander could work the levers that move the mouth. And it would look like Alexander had made the statue talk (Koester, pp. 130-31).
By describing this beast like he has, John has helped free his people from some of their fear. For they are laughing at the government officials who do the Emperor's dirty work. And that helps them imagine being able to resist the efforts of the Empire to convince them to worship it instead of worshiping God.
Next is the stuff about the beast with the 666. John is most likely talking about Emeror Nero. But a lot of Christians have spent a lot of time trying to figure out who in the present this Anti-Christ might be. Throughout history, popes, presidents, kings, computers, and various international organizations have been accused of being the Anti-Christ. The most ridiculous candidate for the beast I've come across deals with the purple dinosaur Barney. He's the one with that giggle that makes me want to hurt somebody.
Take the phrase 'CUTE PURPLE DINOSAUR'. Change the U's to V's, so they appear like they did in Roman times. Get rid of all the letters that aren't Roman numerals. Covert them to Arabic numerals and add them up. And, lo and behold, look what you get:
C + V+V+ L + D + I+V
100+5+5+50+500+1+5 = 666 (Koester, p. 133).
It would be utterly laughable if so many Christians didn't take this stuff literally. In the case of Barney, I remember hearing that some Christians didn't like the fact that some of Barney's lessons led kids to do un-Christian things like think for themselves. If kids do that, what happens to parental authority? So they decided Barney was the anti-Christ.
John's images speak to real people known by him and his community. But what these people represent is universal. These people try to scare people into submitting to cruelty and tyranny. They are trying to get the people to turn away from God and worship a nation, an institution, an ideology, a person. Don't fall for it, John says. God is the only being worthy of worship. Worship God. No matter how much those in power try to scare you. Worship God. And no one can destroy you. Even if Rome kills you, God will raise you to eternal life.
The second and third ways we can talk about Revelation will take much less time to explain.
We can tell people that Revelation calls Christians to be non-violent. Even though the book is filled with violent images, Revelation does not give Christians permission to be violent towards others. Listen for a word from God.
Then I saw heaven itself standing open, and a white horse appeared. Its rider was called Faithful and True – a warrior for justice, a judge with integrity. This warrior has eyes like a blazing flame, and is crowned with many crowns, inscribed with a name no one else has every known. The warrior wears a cloak dipped in blood, and is known by the name "The Word of God".
The armies of heaven were following the warrior, also riding on white horses. They were dressed in dazzling white linen. Out of the warrior's mouth comes a sharp sword to strike down the nations (Revelation 19.11-15).
The rider of this horse is the Risen Jesus Christ. And what is his weapon? A sword that comes out of his mouth. Not a sword that pierces bodies and leads them to bleed. But a sword that is the Word of God. A sword that convicts the nations of refusing to show compassion and refusing to practice justice. That is the sword Jesus wields. (Koester: p. 174). The pastor I quoted last week who uses this text to say that the Jesus of Revelation "is holding a sword in His hand and wants to make someone bleed" is not being faithful to what this text says. Jesus holds no sword in his hand. He is just speaking God's compassion, calling people to repent, calling people to love more radically – especially to love their enemies.
And what about the army of saints? The ones who are clothed not in armor but in linen? What weapons do they carry? None. And who do they attack? No one. They do nothing. They just follow Jesus. They take up no arms.
This image of Jesus on the white horse was used to justify the Crusades – the wars Christians waged against Muslims. But this story justifies no war-making. It justifies no violence. People might use other sacred texts to argue Christians can fight in wars. But they cannot use Revelation.
Third: Revelation calls us to commit our lives to create a new kind of 'normal'. Revelation paints a picture of God's dream for this world. And Revelation says, This is how the world's supposed to be. This is the new picture of what's normal. Normal isn't violence. Normal isn't fear. Normal isn't poverty. Instead this is normal:
The angel then showed me the river of life-giving water, clear as crystal, which issued from the throne of God and of the Lamb, and flowed down the middle of the streets. On either side of the river grew trees of life which produce fruit twelve times a year, once each month; their leaves serve as medicine to heal the nations. There will no longer be any curse.
The throne of the Almighty and of the Lamb will be there, and God's subjects will serve faithfully. They will see the Most High face to face, and bear God's name on their foreheads. Night will be no more. They will need no light from lamps or the sun, for Our God will give them light, and they will reign forever (Revelation 22.1-5).
That is not what's normal in our world. Everyone having just enough of what they need isn't normal in our world. In our world, 26,000 children under five die each day, largely because they don't have enough food and clean water (UNICEF website). In this country, 81 people die every day from gun-related deaths; 25 of these deaths are suicides by white men 40 and over (Bill Marsh, "An Accounting of Daily Gun Deaths," The New York Times, April 29, 2007).
Allan Boesak is a black South African pastor who with Nelson Mandela and Desmond Tutu fought for equal rights against the white minority government in their country. He describes what passes as the normal way of life for many of God's children in our world:
There must be a new earth. This earth – raped, robbed, torn, filled with anger and revenge, with hurt and pain – cannot and should not remain. This earth had been the dwelling place of the Beast, the false prophet of the Beast who came out of the sea…. This earth had given refuge to the murderers of the saints of God [and] became…the arena of the suffering and death of God's children. It was never "home" for them….Indeed, in the experience of the little people of God, the earth belonged to the mighty and the powerful who claimed it for themselves, and they were the enemies, the killers of those who sought to remain faithful to Jesus Christ. So this earth should be no more….Normal is no longer hiding in the night, leaving loved ones behind and fighting with wild Beasts for the enjoyment of the Beast. What is normal now is walking in the light of God and living from the fruits of the tree of life (Allan Boesak).
Revelation shows us the new kind of 'normal' Jesus calls his followers to create.
Normal is people living without fear.
Normal is using only the word of God as our weapon, and not believing God blesses bombs and bullets.
Normal is people living free from the night of shame and fear; free from the terror of separation from loved ones; free from being treated with contempt and callousness by the powerful of the world.
Normal is people living in freedom. Free for life in community. Free to live in safety. Free of want. Normal is no one having too much or too little. Normal is everyone having enough. Enough food, enough water, enough joy, enough hope, enough compassion.
This is what Revelation calls us to. To see this vision of God's new kind of normal. And to say 'yes' to making it real. Revelation calls us to walk in the way of Jesus, open to the compassion and correction of God. And live the words we pray: Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven.
Amen.
A sermon preached by Dave Shull
Spirit of Peace United Church of Christ
Sammamish, Washington
The 25th Sunday in Ordinary Time: September 20, 2009
The eleventh and final in a summer series on topics church members asked to hear sermons about.
This morning's is the third to address the question: What is the Revelation to John about?
Three weeks ago during the sermon talkback, Dorothy asked, "What in the world is the Book of Revelation about?" This is the third a final sermon on that question . . . at least in this incarnation. I've spent this amount of time on Dorothy's questions because I think it raises two key issues for Christians.
First, how do we interpret the Bible – specifically those parts of it that seem so violent? Last week I talked about how some rabbis in the first century, and St. Augustine in the fourth century, came to the same conclusion. The sacred stories of our faith have one message: God's compassion for creation, and God's call for us to respond to the compassion God gives us by loving creation and loving ourselves. So for Christians, that means every verse of the Bible sings God's love for us. Every verse of the Bible calls us to sing God's love back to all of creation and to ourselves. So we even try to hear those parts of the Bible that seem to justify violence, cruelty, and dividing the world between insiders and outsiders, the saved and the damned, as a song about compassion. And what these rabbis and St. Augustine tell us is that even if the original intention of the authors of these stories was to say God blesses violence or bigotry, we must change what that story says. Because God is not served by anything but a people who is shaped by compassion. And a people who shapes others in compassion.
The second issue a study of Revelation brings up is this: Christians need to know enough about this book so we can respond to people who know we go to church and who ask us what Revelation is about. And we need to know enough about it so, if we hear a Christian assert that it justifies violence or bigotry or self-righteousness, we can offer a different picture of what the Revelation to John is about. No longer can Christians surrender the interpretation of this book to conservative Christians just because we don't like much of what it seems to say. We need to know it so we can share what we believe it means.
So this morning, I'd like to share three specific ways we can talk about Revelation.
The first has to do with the symbols Revelation uses, and a way to understand and talk about them. For centuries, Christians have seen this symbols as coded predictions of actual events in the future. So Christians have spent a lot of time and energy looking for what they call "the Anti-Christ" because they hear in John's book a prediction that such a servant of the devil will show up at some future point in history. When the images and symbols John uses address specific people at the time he wrote to seven churches in western Turkey. So we need to look at these images as images from John's world. And then look for ways his message about these images speaks to us today.
Listen for a word from God.
I saw a second beast come out of the earth. It had two horns like a lamb, but it spoke like a dragon….It deceived the inhabitants of the earth with the miracles it was able to work.
And it ordered them to set up a statue in honor of the beast who had been wounded by the sword and revived. It was given permission to breathe life into the statue, so that the statue could speak and cause all who refused to worship the statue to be killed. It forced anyone – small and great, rich and poor, free and oppressed – to be branded on the right hand or on the forehead. No one could buy or sell without the mark – that is, the name of the beast, or the number that stood for its name.
Wisdom is required here. Let those who have insight figure out a number for this beast – a 'human' number: 666 (Revelation 13.11, 14-18; the verses from Revelation quoted throughout this sermon are adapted from The Inclusive New Testament, Priests for Equality, 1994).
If George Lucas were putting this scene on the screen, he'd have a Darth Vader kind of beast who terrorizes the people into submission. But John's audience wouldn't see that kind of character in what John as written at all. Most Bible scholars believe John has created these creatures to represent specific people in his world. And his readers and listeners know who he's talking about (Craig Koester, Revelation and the End of All Things, Eerdmans, 2001, p. 134).
The beast with the 666 was the Roman Emperor Nero. Nero was the poster boy for embodied evil; he's like Adolph Hitler is today. Nero had committed suicide by the time John wrote Revelation around 100CE. But everyone knew about Nero. He'd tortured and killed thousands of Christians. The relationship between 666 and Nero works like this. Every Hebrew letter had a numerical value attached to it. It's like 'a' is 5, 'b' is 10', 'c' is 15. The numerical value of the Hebrew letters for "Emperor Nero" add up to 666 (Koester, p. 133).
So Nero is the beast with the 666, which Christians since Revelation call the Anti-Christ. Now the beast who comes out of the sea that Gloria just read about – this beast with the horns like a lamb who talks like a dragon – that beast work for Nero. John's audience would recognize that beast as all of the government officials who implement Nero's orders. They were the ones who did the actual torturing and killing of Christians and other enemies of the Empire.
So in talking about the beast from the sea, and Nero, who is portrayed as a beast from the land, John isn't predicting that in some specific point in the future, a figure whose name can be contorted into a connection to 666 is going to come to try to convince all the Christians in the world to worship the devil. He's referring to specific people everyone he's writing to would recognize.
But he's doing it in a way that shows us he is a true student of human nature. Tyrants are able to hold onto their power as long as they can keep people afraid of them. Fear keeps people from resisting their oppressors. One of the ways we can lessen the amount of fear we have is by learning how to laugh at what we fear. And John has created a symbol of these government officials who do whatever Nero tells them in ways that can help his listeners laugh at these people who have the power to hurt and kill them.
The beast has two horns like a lamb. Up to this point in this story, the only lamb John has mentioned is Jesus. John talks about Jesus as the sacrificial lamb – the one who was willing to die rather than stop being who God called him to be. Jesus is the lamb. So here's this beast who has two horns like a lamb. And John's readers laugh. Does this beast think we're so gullible, that we'll follow this beast just because he's pretending to be Jesus, the Lamb?
Then John adds the fact that this beast talks like a dragon. A chapter earlier, we learned the dragon stands for the devil. Talk about a wolf in sheep's clothing! The beast pretends to be a lamb, but it talks like a dragon. If it talks like the devil, it is the devil. So John's listeners aren't going to go anywhere near it.
Then John says the beast has the power to make a statue talk. That would send his listeners into hysterics. Because everyone in the Roman Empire knew the story of Alexander the False Prophet. Alexander built a little chapel. Then he made a statue, and put it in the chapel. He put hinges in the jaws, so he could move the jaws with levers. Then he stuck a tube from the mouth through the back of the statue's neck. So someone hiding behind the statue could speak into the tube. And Alexander could work the levers that move the mouth. And it would look like Alexander had made the statue talk (Koester, pp. 130-31).
By describing this beast like he has, John has helped free his people from some of their fear. For they are laughing at the government officials who do the Emperor's dirty work. And that helps them imagine being able to resist the efforts of the Empire to convince them to worship it instead of worshiping God.
Next is the stuff about the beast with the 666. John is most likely talking about Emeror Nero. But a lot of Christians have spent a lot of time trying to figure out who in the present this Anti-Christ might be. Throughout history, popes, presidents, kings, computers, and various international organizations have been accused of being the Anti-Christ. The most ridiculous candidate for the beast I've come across deals with the purple dinosaur Barney. He's the one with that giggle that makes me want to hurt somebody.
Take the phrase 'CUTE PURPLE DINOSAUR'. Change the U's to V's, so they appear like they did in Roman times. Get rid of all the letters that aren't Roman numerals. Covert them to Arabic numerals and add them up. And, lo and behold, look what you get:
C + V+V+ L + D + I+V
100+5+5+50+500+1+5 = 666 (Koester, p. 133).
It would be utterly laughable if so many Christians didn't take this stuff literally. In the case of Barney, I remember hearing that some Christians didn't like the fact that some of Barney's lessons led kids to do un-Christian things like think for themselves. If kids do that, what happens to parental authority? So they decided Barney was the anti-Christ.
John's images speak to real people known by him and his community. But what these people represent is universal. These people try to scare people into submitting to cruelty and tyranny. They are trying to get the people to turn away from God and worship a nation, an institution, an ideology, a person. Don't fall for it, John says. God is the only being worthy of worship. Worship God. No matter how much those in power try to scare you. Worship God. And no one can destroy you. Even if Rome kills you, God will raise you to eternal life.
The second and third ways we can talk about Revelation will take much less time to explain.
We can tell people that Revelation calls Christians to be non-violent. Even though the book is filled with violent images, Revelation does not give Christians permission to be violent towards others. Listen for a word from God.
Then I saw heaven itself standing open, and a white horse appeared. Its rider was called Faithful and True – a warrior for justice, a judge with integrity. This warrior has eyes like a blazing flame, and is crowned with many crowns, inscribed with a name no one else has every known. The warrior wears a cloak dipped in blood, and is known by the name "The Word of God".
The armies of heaven were following the warrior, also riding on white horses. They were dressed in dazzling white linen. Out of the warrior's mouth comes a sharp sword to strike down the nations (Revelation 19.11-15).
The rider of this horse is the Risen Jesus Christ. And what is his weapon? A sword that comes out of his mouth. Not a sword that pierces bodies and leads them to bleed. But a sword that is the Word of God. A sword that convicts the nations of refusing to show compassion and refusing to practice justice. That is the sword Jesus wields. (Koester: p. 174). The pastor I quoted last week who uses this text to say that the Jesus of Revelation "is holding a sword in His hand and wants to make someone bleed" is not being faithful to what this text says. Jesus holds no sword in his hand. He is just speaking God's compassion, calling people to repent, calling people to love more radically – especially to love their enemies.
And what about the army of saints? The ones who are clothed not in armor but in linen? What weapons do they carry? None. And who do they attack? No one. They do nothing. They just follow Jesus. They take up no arms.
This image of Jesus on the white horse was used to justify the Crusades – the wars Christians waged against Muslims. But this story justifies no war-making. It justifies no violence. People might use other sacred texts to argue Christians can fight in wars. But they cannot use Revelation.
Third: Revelation calls us to commit our lives to create a new kind of 'normal'. Revelation paints a picture of God's dream for this world. And Revelation says, This is how the world's supposed to be. This is the new picture of what's normal. Normal isn't violence. Normal isn't fear. Normal isn't poverty. Instead this is normal:
The angel then showed me the river of life-giving water, clear as crystal, which issued from the throne of God and of the Lamb, and flowed down the middle of the streets. On either side of the river grew trees of life which produce fruit twelve times a year, once each month; their leaves serve as medicine to heal the nations. There will no longer be any curse.
The throne of the Almighty and of the Lamb will be there, and God's subjects will serve faithfully. They will see the Most High face to face, and bear God's name on their foreheads. Night will be no more. They will need no light from lamps or the sun, for Our God will give them light, and they will reign forever (Revelation 22.1-5).
That is not what's normal in our world. Everyone having just enough of what they need isn't normal in our world. In our world, 26,000 children under five die each day, largely because they don't have enough food and clean water (UNICEF website). In this country, 81 people die every day from gun-related deaths; 25 of these deaths are suicides by white men 40 and over (Bill Marsh, "An Accounting of Daily Gun Deaths," The New York Times, April 29, 2007).
Allan Boesak is a black South African pastor who with Nelson Mandela and Desmond Tutu fought for equal rights against the white minority government in their country. He describes what passes as the normal way of life for many of God's children in our world:
There must be a new earth. This earth – raped, robbed, torn, filled with anger and revenge, with hurt and pain – cannot and should not remain. This earth had been the dwelling place of the Beast, the false prophet of the Beast who came out of the sea…. This earth had given refuge to the murderers of the saints of God [and] became…the arena of the suffering and death of God's children. It was never "home" for them….Indeed, in the experience of the little people of God, the earth belonged to the mighty and the powerful who claimed it for themselves, and they were the enemies, the killers of those who sought to remain faithful to Jesus Christ. So this earth should be no more….Normal is no longer hiding in the night, leaving loved ones behind and fighting with wild Beasts for the enjoyment of the Beast. What is normal now is walking in the light of God and living from the fruits of the tree of life (Allan Boesak).
Revelation shows us the new kind of 'normal' Jesus calls his followers to create.
Normal is people living without fear.
Normal is using only the word of God as our weapon, and not believing God blesses bombs and bullets.
Normal is people living free from the night of shame and fear; free from the terror of separation from loved ones; free from being treated with contempt and callousness by the powerful of the world.
Normal is people living in freedom. Free for life in community. Free to live in safety. Free of want. Normal is no one having too much or too little. Normal is everyone having enough. Enough food, enough water, enough joy, enough hope, enough compassion.
This is what Revelation calls us to. To see this vision of God's new kind of normal. And to say 'yes' to making it real. Revelation calls us to walk in the way of Jesus, open to the compassion and correction of God. And live the words we pray: Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven.
Amen.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Revelation 2: Refusing to Make the Lord a Liar
(Revelation 13.11,14-18, 14.6-13)
A sermon preached by Dave Shull
Spirit of Peace United Church of Christ
Sammamish, Washington
The 24th Sunday in Ordinary Time: September 13, 2009
The tenth in a summer series on topics members of the church asked to hear sermons about.
This morning's is the second to address the question: What is the Revelation to John about?
This is the second sermon in a mini-series in response to a question Dorothy asked two weeks ago: "What in the world is the book of Revelation about?" Last week I talked about the historical setting for the Revelation to John. John wrote to seven Christian churches in western Turkey. These Christians were under extreme persecution by the Roman Empire. Because they were Christians, their property was being confiscated and they were being tortured and killed. Understandably they were tempted to turn away from their faith and do whatever Rome wanted them to. John writes to them to encourage them to stay faithful to God. Because only God offers life, hope, and strength. John told his audience that when their suffering leads them to feel hopeless, they must remember what Jesus went through. The Roman Empire killed him. But God raised him to new life. So if they remain faithful, even to the point of being killed by Rome, they will not be defeated. But God will raise them to new life.
Our scripture passages from Revelation last week were the three verses that George Friedrich Handel used as the basis for the "Hallelujah" chorus. They are the kinds of words that produce finger-snapping tunes. The kingdom of this world has become the kingdom of our Lord, and of his Christ, and he shall reign forever and ever King of kings and Lord of lords . . . . The scripture passage for today is not one that leads to the creation of finger-snapping tunes. Parts of this passage are harsh and offensive.
Listen for a word from God.
I saw an angel flying high overhead, sent to announce the Good News of eternity to all who live on the earth – every nation, race, language, and tribe. It said in a loud voice, "Give reverence and glory to God, for the hour of divine judgment has come. Worship the One who made the heavens, the earth, the sea and the springs of water."
A second angel followed and said, 'Babylon has fallen! Babylon the Great has fallen, who made the whole world drink the wine of corrupt passions.'
A third angel followed them and shouted, "All who worship the beast and its image, or accept its mark on the forehead or the arm, will drink the wine of God's fury, which has been poured, undiluted, into the cup of divine wrath. They will be tormented with burning sulphur in the presence of the holy angels and of the Lamb. The smoke of their torments will rise up forever and ever. There will be no rest, day or night, for those who worshiped the beast and its image, or accepted the mark of its name."
This calls for the endurance of the holy ones, those who keep God's commandments and remain faithful to Jesus.
Then a voice from heaven said, "Write this down: Happy are they who die in Our God for all eternity." "Yes," says the Spirit, "let them rest from their work, for their deeds accompany them (Rev. 14.6-13; all citations in this sermon are from The Inclusive New Testament © 1994 by Priests for Equality, Brentwood, MD).
The first and last parts of this aren't so bad. It's the stuff in the middle that is hard to hear. Words that suggest those who don't follow Jesus will be burned with sulphur for eternity. And Jesus and the angels are going to watch it all happen, and seemingly enjoy doing so. It's horrible. John says those who suffer are the ones who bear the mark of the beast. Next week I'm going to talk about this beast who bears the number 666. Here John is saying that all of us bear some mark, and the mark we bear shows us who we belong to, who our god is. Baptism marks us people who belong to the God who says, "You are my beloved". Which means God should be the one we live and die for. But many Christians and non-Christians allow ourselves to bear the mark of some other force. Like a nation, an ideology, a job . . . like violence, fear, or greed. So John is saying to his audience, continue to live for God. If you allow yourself to be marked by any other force, you will become an enemy of Christ's church. And you will spend eternity in torment.
Passages like this are what make a lot of Christians try to keep Revelation at a long arm's length. And they're what lead a lot of Christians to which Revelation had never made it into the Bible. But I believe passages like this show us why progressive Christians need to reclaim the Revelation to John.
I think we need to do this for two reasons. First, we need to be able to respond when some Christians try to say with utter certainty what Revelation says. When we hear a Christian say that Revelation tells us that anyone who doesn't believe in Jesus is going to hell, we need to be able to offer a different word about Revelation. Too many Christians who read Revelation as the literal word and will of God use it as a reason to turn God and Jesus into hateful, vindictive beings who seem to enjoy inflicting pain on those who choose not to follow them. The pastor of a 6000-member church in Seattle is an example. He said, "Some [Christians want] to recast Jesus as a limp-wrist hippie in a dress with a lot of product in His hair, who drank decaf and made pithy Zen statements about life while shopping for the perfect pair of shoes. In Revelation, Jesus is a prize fighter with a tattoo down His leg, a sword in His hand and the commitment to make someone bleed. That is a guy I can worship. I cannot worship the hippie, diaper, halo Christ because I cannot worship a guy I can beat up" (Mark Driscoll, Relevant magazine, January-February 2007, quoted in Shane Claiborne and Chris Haw, Jesus for President, The Simple Way, 2008, p. 194).
People who interpret Revelation like this do incredible damage. They cause deep pain in families and friendships, because they lead people to believe that if someone they love doesn't believe in Jesus as the only way to salvation, they will spend eternity in torment. They lead some Christians to believe that they know exactly what God's thinking and what God wants, and that they can do whatever they want to carry out what they perceive as God's will. Such extreme interpretations of Revelation lead some Christians to support extremists in Israel who believe Arabs should be forcibly removed from all of the land the Bible says belongs to Israel. Which only deepens the violence and suffering among Palestinians and Jews, and delays any just resolution to this conflict. We progressive Christians need to be able to offer a different story about Revelation. When we hear irresponsible, destructive interpretations of his book like this pastor offers, we need to be able to do better than saying, "I don't think that's what Revelation says." We need to be able to offer sound reasons as to why the eternal suffering of any person is not the will of God.
Which leads to the second reason progressive Christians need to reclaim Revelation. Wrestling with violent texts like the one we're looking at today forces us to look at the larger question of how we understand the Bible. What do we do when we come across a text that seems to say God blesses violence? Or that seems to justify hatred and cruelty? Living with this text this past week, I've had to look at new ways to interpret the Bible as a whole. And the 'new' way to interpret that Bible that I came across is in fact a way scholars interpreted the Bible 1900 years ago. But which I'd never heard about before.
Toward the end of the first century, a group of rabbis gathered southwest of Jerusalem. The temple in Jerusalem had been destroyed by Rome in 70AD. The temple is where the Jews felt closest to God. The temple was the symbol for God's love for and closeness to the Jews. So now the rabbis were trying to figure out how they could feel God's love and live as God's faithful people without having a temple to worship in. What the rabbis came up with was extraordinary. They said in all of their sacred stories, God was trying to express one message and one message only: compassion. Everything in the Bible is about how to put into practice the central teaching of the Bible: You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your might; and you shall love your neighbor as yourself (Deuteronomy 6.5; Leviticus 19.18; see also Matthew 22.36-40; Mark 12.28-34; Luke 10.25-28). What was most extraordinary is that the rabbis said it didn't matter what the original meaning of a story or law in the Bible was. If the original meaning could not convey today a message of God's compassion for us and our compassion for others and for ourselves, then the rabbis said the original meaning needed to be changed. The Bible must speak compassion, the rabbis said. Always the Bible must speak compassion (Karen Armstrong, The Bible: A Biography, Atlantic Monthly Press, 2007, p. 83).
A couple hundred years later, a Christian in North Africa came to the same conclusion. Augustine was born in 354. He was a bishop in North Africa. He didn't know Hebrew, and had no clue about what these rabbis had come up with. But his studies of the Bible led him also to see the Bible as being only about compassion. Everything in the Bible, he said, is about compassion. And he pushed this point even further, offering this chilling word: if we insult others in the name of the Bible, "we make the Lord a liar" (Armstrong, pp. 122-23). If I try to use the Bible as a weapon against anyone, I make the Lord a liar. If I try to use the Bible to tell anyone that they are less than sacred, less than holy, less than God's beloved, I made the Lord a liar. It's a stunning statement. And one that all Christians desperately need to hear. Sixteen hundred years ago, Augustine said that any Bible passage that seems to justify hatred or cruelty has to be reinterpreted. Because God's word can never be contorted into expressing anything but compassion.
So how do we hear the middle part of this morning's reading from Revelation as saying something compassionate?
Here's a thought I have. Imagine that some authority is oppressing you or someone you love. Some government, some church, some employer, is making life hell for you or someone you love. Or imagine some authority is consistently violating some value that you hold deeply. What do you want to have happen to that authority? Doesn't a part of you want something to happen to that authority? Doesn't a part of you want to do whatever is necessary to take that authority's power away so it can't cause any more harm? If you believed that God was going to make sure that authority was not going to be able to keep causing harm, might that give you a little relief? If you believed that if you continued to resist that authority by continuing to worship God and follow in the way of Jesus, that you were weakening the power of that authority, might that help you stay faithful, even if that meant that authority might harm or even kill you?
I saw a movie in Chicago years ago. I don't remember very much about it. The movie was set in South Africa. The oppressive system of apartheid in which the minority whites ruled the majority blacks still was doing its evil. There was a black South African who had suffered profoundly under white rule. Family members had been killed, and he had been brutalized. And yet he was committed to resisting white oppression non-violently. Toward the end of the movie, however, he had had too much. So he went to the police station, and sat in his car in the parking lot. The police chief at that station had been especially cruel to this man and those he loved. When the white police chief came out of the station, this black South African who had been so committed to nonviolence ran him down in the parking lot. And everyone in the audience cheered. The audience needed to know this police chief would never harm anyone again.
Maybe that's what John is trying to do in this harsh and offensive middle section of this reading. Maybe he's saying to his audience, "God had not forgotten you in your suffering. Stay faithful. And no matter what the Roman Empire does to you, you will live forever in the loving embrace of God. Those who are hurting you will not be able to destroy you." That is a word of compassion. John's words about those who turn away from God being tormented eternally with burning sulphur in front of Jesus and the angels are not literally what is going to happen. This is just a powerfully graphic symbol that says to people under persecution that God has not forgotten them, and God knows their suffering is unjust and evil. And it will not continue forever.
What would happen if Christians began to interpret the Bible like the rabbis and Augustine call us to? What if we began to hear every story, every teaching, every law in the Bible as saying something about the compassion of God? What if every time we open the Bible, compassion flows out of it . . . to engulf us, and cleanse us, and open us to see this world through the eyes of God's compassion? This world desperately needs compassionate Christians to live what we say we believe. May we hear the news of God's compassion anew. And step out in faith to embrace this world with the love it so deeply hungers to know. Amen.
A sermon preached by Dave Shull
Spirit of Peace United Church of Christ
Sammamish, Washington
The 24th Sunday in Ordinary Time: September 13, 2009
The tenth in a summer series on topics members of the church asked to hear sermons about.
This morning's is the second to address the question: What is the Revelation to John about?
This is the second sermon in a mini-series in response to a question Dorothy asked two weeks ago: "What in the world is the book of Revelation about?" Last week I talked about the historical setting for the Revelation to John. John wrote to seven Christian churches in western Turkey. These Christians were under extreme persecution by the Roman Empire. Because they were Christians, their property was being confiscated and they were being tortured and killed. Understandably they were tempted to turn away from their faith and do whatever Rome wanted them to. John writes to them to encourage them to stay faithful to God. Because only God offers life, hope, and strength. John told his audience that when their suffering leads them to feel hopeless, they must remember what Jesus went through. The Roman Empire killed him. But God raised him to new life. So if they remain faithful, even to the point of being killed by Rome, they will not be defeated. But God will raise them to new life.
Our scripture passages from Revelation last week were the three verses that George Friedrich Handel used as the basis for the "Hallelujah" chorus. They are the kinds of words that produce finger-snapping tunes. The kingdom of this world has become the kingdom of our Lord, and of his Christ, and he shall reign forever and ever King of kings and Lord of lords . . . . The scripture passage for today is not one that leads to the creation of finger-snapping tunes. Parts of this passage are harsh and offensive.
Listen for a word from God.
I saw an angel flying high overhead, sent to announce the Good News of eternity to all who live on the earth – every nation, race, language, and tribe. It said in a loud voice, "Give reverence and glory to God, for the hour of divine judgment has come. Worship the One who made the heavens, the earth, the sea and the springs of water."
A second angel followed and said, 'Babylon has fallen! Babylon the Great has fallen, who made the whole world drink the wine of corrupt passions.'
A third angel followed them and shouted, "All who worship the beast and its image, or accept its mark on the forehead or the arm, will drink the wine of God's fury, which has been poured, undiluted, into the cup of divine wrath. They will be tormented with burning sulphur in the presence of the holy angels and of the Lamb. The smoke of their torments will rise up forever and ever. There will be no rest, day or night, for those who worshiped the beast and its image, or accepted the mark of its name."
This calls for the endurance of the holy ones, those who keep God's commandments and remain faithful to Jesus.
Then a voice from heaven said, "Write this down: Happy are they who die in Our God for all eternity." "Yes," says the Spirit, "let them rest from their work, for their deeds accompany them (Rev. 14.6-13; all citations in this sermon are from The Inclusive New Testament © 1994 by Priests for Equality, Brentwood, MD).
The first and last parts of this aren't so bad. It's the stuff in the middle that is hard to hear. Words that suggest those who don't follow Jesus will be burned with sulphur for eternity. And Jesus and the angels are going to watch it all happen, and seemingly enjoy doing so. It's horrible. John says those who suffer are the ones who bear the mark of the beast. Next week I'm going to talk about this beast who bears the number 666. Here John is saying that all of us bear some mark, and the mark we bear shows us who we belong to, who our god is. Baptism marks us people who belong to the God who says, "You are my beloved". Which means God should be the one we live and die for. But many Christians and non-Christians allow ourselves to bear the mark of some other force. Like a nation, an ideology, a job . . . like violence, fear, or greed. So John is saying to his audience, continue to live for God. If you allow yourself to be marked by any other force, you will become an enemy of Christ's church. And you will spend eternity in torment.
Passages like this are what make a lot of Christians try to keep Revelation at a long arm's length. And they're what lead a lot of Christians to which Revelation had never made it into the Bible. But I believe passages like this show us why progressive Christians need to reclaim the Revelation to John.
I think we need to do this for two reasons. First, we need to be able to respond when some Christians try to say with utter certainty what Revelation says. When we hear a Christian say that Revelation tells us that anyone who doesn't believe in Jesus is going to hell, we need to be able to offer a different word about Revelation. Too many Christians who read Revelation as the literal word and will of God use it as a reason to turn God and Jesus into hateful, vindictive beings who seem to enjoy inflicting pain on those who choose not to follow them. The pastor of a 6000-member church in Seattle is an example. He said, "Some [Christians want] to recast Jesus as a limp-wrist hippie in a dress with a lot of product in His hair, who drank decaf and made pithy Zen statements about life while shopping for the perfect pair of shoes. In Revelation, Jesus is a prize fighter with a tattoo down His leg, a sword in His hand and the commitment to make someone bleed. That is a guy I can worship. I cannot worship the hippie, diaper, halo Christ because I cannot worship a guy I can beat up" (Mark Driscoll, Relevant magazine, January-February 2007, quoted in Shane Claiborne and Chris Haw, Jesus for President, The Simple Way, 2008, p. 194).
People who interpret Revelation like this do incredible damage. They cause deep pain in families and friendships, because they lead people to believe that if someone they love doesn't believe in Jesus as the only way to salvation, they will spend eternity in torment. They lead some Christians to believe that they know exactly what God's thinking and what God wants, and that they can do whatever they want to carry out what they perceive as God's will. Such extreme interpretations of Revelation lead some Christians to support extremists in Israel who believe Arabs should be forcibly removed from all of the land the Bible says belongs to Israel. Which only deepens the violence and suffering among Palestinians and Jews, and delays any just resolution to this conflict. We progressive Christians need to be able to offer a different story about Revelation. When we hear irresponsible, destructive interpretations of his book like this pastor offers, we need to be able to do better than saying, "I don't think that's what Revelation says." We need to be able to offer sound reasons as to why the eternal suffering of any person is not the will of God.
Which leads to the second reason progressive Christians need to reclaim Revelation. Wrestling with violent texts like the one we're looking at today forces us to look at the larger question of how we understand the Bible. What do we do when we come across a text that seems to say God blesses violence? Or that seems to justify hatred and cruelty? Living with this text this past week, I've had to look at new ways to interpret the Bible as a whole. And the 'new' way to interpret that Bible that I came across is in fact a way scholars interpreted the Bible 1900 years ago. But which I'd never heard about before.
Toward the end of the first century, a group of rabbis gathered southwest of Jerusalem. The temple in Jerusalem had been destroyed by Rome in 70AD. The temple is where the Jews felt closest to God. The temple was the symbol for God's love for and closeness to the Jews. So now the rabbis were trying to figure out how they could feel God's love and live as God's faithful people without having a temple to worship in. What the rabbis came up with was extraordinary. They said in all of their sacred stories, God was trying to express one message and one message only: compassion. Everything in the Bible is about how to put into practice the central teaching of the Bible: You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your might; and you shall love your neighbor as yourself (Deuteronomy 6.5; Leviticus 19.18; see also Matthew 22.36-40; Mark 12.28-34; Luke 10.25-28). What was most extraordinary is that the rabbis said it didn't matter what the original meaning of a story or law in the Bible was. If the original meaning could not convey today a message of God's compassion for us and our compassion for others and for ourselves, then the rabbis said the original meaning needed to be changed. The Bible must speak compassion, the rabbis said. Always the Bible must speak compassion (Karen Armstrong, The Bible: A Biography, Atlantic Monthly Press, 2007, p. 83).
A couple hundred years later, a Christian in North Africa came to the same conclusion. Augustine was born in 354. He was a bishop in North Africa. He didn't know Hebrew, and had no clue about what these rabbis had come up with. But his studies of the Bible led him also to see the Bible as being only about compassion. Everything in the Bible, he said, is about compassion. And he pushed this point even further, offering this chilling word: if we insult others in the name of the Bible, "we make the Lord a liar" (Armstrong, pp. 122-23). If I try to use the Bible as a weapon against anyone, I make the Lord a liar. If I try to use the Bible to tell anyone that they are less than sacred, less than holy, less than God's beloved, I made the Lord a liar. It's a stunning statement. And one that all Christians desperately need to hear. Sixteen hundred years ago, Augustine said that any Bible passage that seems to justify hatred or cruelty has to be reinterpreted. Because God's word can never be contorted into expressing anything but compassion.
So how do we hear the middle part of this morning's reading from Revelation as saying something compassionate?
Here's a thought I have. Imagine that some authority is oppressing you or someone you love. Some government, some church, some employer, is making life hell for you or someone you love. Or imagine some authority is consistently violating some value that you hold deeply. What do you want to have happen to that authority? Doesn't a part of you want something to happen to that authority? Doesn't a part of you want to do whatever is necessary to take that authority's power away so it can't cause any more harm? If you believed that God was going to make sure that authority was not going to be able to keep causing harm, might that give you a little relief? If you believed that if you continued to resist that authority by continuing to worship God and follow in the way of Jesus, that you were weakening the power of that authority, might that help you stay faithful, even if that meant that authority might harm or even kill you?
I saw a movie in Chicago years ago. I don't remember very much about it. The movie was set in South Africa. The oppressive system of apartheid in which the minority whites ruled the majority blacks still was doing its evil. There was a black South African who had suffered profoundly under white rule. Family members had been killed, and he had been brutalized. And yet he was committed to resisting white oppression non-violently. Toward the end of the movie, however, he had had too much. So he went to the police station, and sat in his car in the parking lot. The police chief at that station had been especially cruel to this man and those he loved. When the white police chief came out of the station, this black South African who had been so committed to nonviolence ran him down in the parking lot. And everyone in the audience cheered. The audience needed to know this police chief would never harm anyone again.
Maybe that's what John is trying to do in this harsh and offensive middle section of this reading. Maybe he's saying to his audience, "God had not forgotten you in your suffering. Stay faithful. And no matter what the Roman Empire does to you, you will live forever in the loving embrace of God. Those who are hurting you will not be able to destroy you." That is a word of compassion. John's words about those who turn away from God being tormented eternally with burning sulphur in front of Jesus and the angels are not literally what is going to happen. This is just a powerfully graphic symbol that says to people under persecution that God has not forgotten them, and God knows their suffering is unjust and evil. And it will not continue forever.
What would happen if Christians began to interpret the Bible like the rabbis and Augustine call us to? What if we began to hear every story, every teaching, every law in the Bible as saying something about the compassion of God? What if every time we open the Bible, compassion flows out of it . . . to engulf us, and cleanse us, and open us to see this world through the eyes of God's compassion? This world desperately needs compassionate Christians to live what we say we believe. May we hear the news of God's compassion anew. And step out in faith to embrace this world with the love it so deeply hungers to know. Amen.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Revelation 1: The Hard and Holy In-between
(Revelation 19.6, 11.15, 19.16: The text of the "Hallelujah" chorus by G.F. Handel)
A sermon preached by Dave Shull
Spirit of Peace United Church of Christ
Sammamish, Washington
The 23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time: September 6, 2009
The ninth in a summer series on topics members of the church asked to hear sermons about.
This morning's topic: What is the Revelation to John about?
The question came up during the sermon talk-back last Sunday. What is the book of Revelation about? I'd read a passage from Revelation in that morning's sermon. Strange words about seals opening and riders on horseback taking peace from the earth and destroying a fourth of earth's creatures. So Dorothy asked to hear a sermon about the Revelation to John.
The Revelation to John is probably the most confusing book in the Bible. It's also the most mispronounced, since I've even heard a lot of clergy pronounce it Revelations. And it's one of the most misused books in the Bible. For over a hundred years Christians have tried to read it literally. So they have found within its pages coded language they say predicted the creation of the United Nations Security Council as an agent of Satan, for example.
I'm going to spend the next two weeks preaching about Revelation, because I think progressive Christians need to reclaim it. I think we need to know something about this book so we can respond when other Christians misuse it. And I think we need to hear its words of warning and promise.
John wrote Revelation at end of the first century to Christians in seven churches in western Turkey. These Christians were caught in the hard and holy in-between. They knew God had come to earth in Jesus. They knew Jesus had promised always to be with his followers. They knew God would not abandon them. And yet every day they knew they or someone they loved could be taken to prison. Or tortured. Or killed. They were in-between hearing the promise of God that their lives would be blessed by justice, dignity, love, and hope. And the fear that maybe God had forgotten them, because so many of them were suffering. The lives of these Christians was extremely hard. Christianity did not attract the movers and shakers of society; most Christians came from lower socioeconomic classes. Because people outside the church knew every time Christians gathered for worship they ate the body of Christ and drank his blood, they called Christians cannibals. Because their leader, Jesus, had been crucified as a rebel and enemy of public welfare, people outside the church called Christians unpatriotic. Because Christians called Jesus "son of God" and refused to call Caesar by that name, those outside the church called them atheists. Many Christians had their property confiscated. Many were tortured or executed (Eugene Boring, Revelation, Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 1989, pp. 11, 18).
How do you hold on to faith in times of such severe persecution? When you or the people you love are being tortured and killed, how can you talk about a God who is faithful?
That's what the Revelation to John tries to do. The book is filled with wild images and symbols. Images and symbols often inspire the passion and creativity of artists. The Revelation to John is no exception. Here is how three verses from Revelation inspired one such artist 250 years ago. Listen for a Word from God.
a recording of G.F. Handel's "Hallelujah" chorus from "The Messiah" was played;
the text for the chorus comes from these verses:
Revelation 19.6: And I heard as it were the voice of a great multitude, and as the voice of many waters, and as the voice of mighty thunderings, saying, "Alleluia: for the Lord God omnipotent reigneth."
Revelation 11.15: And the seventh angel sounded; and there were great voices in heaven, saying, The kingdoms of this world are become the kingdoms of our Lord, and of his Christ; and he shall reign for ever and ever.
Revelation 19.16: And on his robe and on his thigh, Christ has a name inscribed, "King of kings and Lord of Lords."
What does this piece make you feel like? (the congregation responded: it makes me grateful that the early Christians held on to their faith in spite of persecution, or we wouldn't be here today; joyful; triumphal)
I think these are some of the feelings John hoped his words to Christians would inspire: gratitude for the God who was with them, joy in having companions who encourage each other to be faithful, and belief in the God who triumphed even over death. Hope for people caught in the hard and holy in-between that God will be faithful and not leave them to suffer alone.
The Roman Empire was like any empire. Empires try to seduce us into believing we should do whatever they say. They have the wealth, they have the army, they have the secret of what it takes to have a good life. So the empire says, follow us, obey us, worship us – and you'll be happy. You'll be successful. You'll have everything you could want.
And in Revelation, John says to the Christians in western Turkey, Don't believe it. Don't let yourself be seduced by the Empire. Don't worship violence or greed or power. John calls Christians to keep following Jesus. Who had no wealth. And had no army. The only power Jesus had was love. A healing, calling, story-telling, boundary-shattering love. All he had was a love that refused to let itself hate so much it became violent. Rome thought they'd destroyed that love when they put Jesus on the cross. But that love could not be destroyed. That love came back to life . . . and the Roman Empire ended up being destroyed.
Last month, my spiritual director, the motorcycle-riding ex-nun who doesn't let me get away with much, told me I didn't expect enough from God. I sat with that all month. And when we met yesterday, I asked about it. She said, "Look how most people in this culture related to God. We decide what we want. And because we're good individualists, we try by ourselves to achieve that. And when we can't quite make it happen by ourselves, we ask for God's help. If we end up getting what we want, then we believe in God. If we don't get what we want, then maybe we start to doubt. But it's all about getting God to help us get what we want. But that's totally backwards. That makes God our servant. Instead, we should be listening. . . listening in prayer to hear what God's desire and dream for us is. We listen for that, and then we try to make that real. So we're God's servants, doing what God want us to do." She said she thinks oppressed people seem to understand that. Maybe it's because they don't have many other options. Slaves and the victims of military dictatorships in Central America are people we might expect to have a weak faith because of their suffering. But they often have a stronger faith than those of us who have so much. "It seems that oppressed people who from the outside look like they'd have good reason not to believe in God's faithfulness have a much stronger faith than people like us who have so much. They hear the promises of God. They feel the love of Jesus Christ. And they trust. They follow where Jesus calls them to go. They commit their lives to making God's dreams for them real.
That is what John calls us to do today. To hear the promise that this King of kings and Lord of lords will reign forever and ever. And it is this risen Jesus who reigns in love. It is this risen Christ who calls us to listen for God's desire and dream for us, so we can live into that, expecting God to give us what we need to make it real. And John assures us when we are in tune with God's song, no force can defeat us.
Amen.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)