Author: Pastorbrentmiller

One Year Later…

White Supremacy is sin, and anyone who does not work for its abolition, is guilty of sin – paraphrase of Samuel Simon Schmucker, American Preacher and Abolitionist

Today is the anniversary of George Floyd’s death. The officer directly responsible has been convicted, but justice has in no way yet been achieved. Despite all the promises and BLM signs on people’s lawns, there has been no significant progress toward police or justice reform. The forces of hate and supremacy are well entrenched and positioned to thrive for decades to come. Unarmed African Americans continue to die at the hands of law enforcement. White supremacy is on the move. Efforts to silence Black voices and suppress the Black vote continue apace throughout the country. There seems little hope for a breakthrough to better days.

As the father to an African American son, and as a follower of Jesus, I will, of course, continue to speak and work for a better world. How can I do otherwise? But the sad reality I face each day is that my primary job in terms of race is to teach my own son how to stay alive in a white supremacist nation where many do not believe black lives such as his matter, and many more only become mildly interested for short periods of time after each report of another black life snuffed out on the street.

At the 1965 funeral of Jimmie Lee Jackson, who had been murdered by an Alabama State Trooper in a cafe where he and other peaceful protestors had taken refuge from southern stormtroopers, the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. noted that there had in fact been many fingers on the trigger that killed Jackson. Similarly, there were many knees on the neck of George Floyd. If, by your actions, political choices, or apathy, you are contributing to the problem of white supremacy in America, you might be surprised to learn that yours is one of them.

For the love of God, and for the sake of millions, speak out, vote, and advocate to change this culture of white supremacy, hate, and death.

End the silence.

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent

Truth and Consequences

‘I’m not upset that you lied to me.  I’m upset that from now on I can’t believe you’ – Friedrich Nietzsche

It’s a disturbing truth, but it seems, more and more, as if Christians are liars.  Now before anyone gets upset, let me remind you, first, that I am a Christian, and second, that I didn’t say all Christians are liars.  I don’t lie, and neither do many (I’d like to say most) followers of Jesus.  Nonetheless, the sad truth is that in popular discourse, we are often lumped together as if we all had one mind and acted of one accord, and, tragically, many of the Christians who act as if that were true, who claim to speak for all ‘true believers,’ have wholeheartedly embraced what is frequently dubbed, ‘The Big Lie.’ 

The Big Lie, of course, is that somehow, the 2020 election was stolen from Donald Trump.  I won’t belabor the details.  They are well known, and if you really want to rehash them, you can visit just about any legitimate news source and read all about it.  That there is no evidence to support The Big Lie (everyone who has examined it, including Trump’s own Attorney General, the Supreme Court, and countless lower courts have all rejected it as patently false), means nothing to its proponents.  No matter what the evidence, no matter how ridiculous it is proven to be, those who hope to gain from The Big Lie keep shouting it from the rooftops as if it were the God’s honest truth. 

This was on display this week in the United States Capitol as the Republican Conference in the House of Representatives voted to remove Liz Cheney from her position of leadership.  Her offense?  Speaking the truth about The Big Lie.   She dared to say, repeatedly, that Trump lost, and that her party was wrong to say otherwise.  For this, she has been banished from leadership, and, most likely, will eventually lose her congressional seat. 

I really don’t have much to say about the ethics of the Republicans who did this to Representative Cheney.  My purpose in this post is neither to elevate nor denigrate either of the two major political parties.  As I have written often, political parties follow the path of empire, and lies in the service of empire are sadly par for the course.  I expect politicians to embrace lies.  Politicians and lies go together like peanut butter and jelly. 

But it is my purpose today to warn Christians about embracing either The Big Lie or any political party or movement that embraces it.  Brother or sister, if this is you, you are reaping the whirlwind.  You are embracing, not just a man who is a power-hungry white supremacist (which is bad enough); you are embracing a lie and a liar. 

The Bible says a lot about liars.  None of it is good.  Proverbs 12:22 says that lying lips are an abomination to the Lord.  The prophet Jeremiah spoke ill of those who shoot lies from their tongues like arrows from a bow (9:3).  I could go on.  On the basis of such verses alone, Christians should flee from both lies and liars, not perpetuate them or sing their praises. 

But on top of that, consider Nietzsche’s words.   There is a terrible consequence to telling lies.  Once you tell one, there is a rather good chance that no one will ever believe another word you say about anything. 

And anything includes Jesus. 

Brothers and sisters, we have a truth that needs to be told.  A story to tell to the nations, as the old song goes.  Telling it is, quite literally, a matter of life and death.  Our message is already suspect.  The world has its reasons to dismiss our claims.  If we become known, and we are becoming known, as a bunch of flat-out liars, we will lose the last shred of our credibility.  We will have little chance of convincing people of what matters most. 

Be careful Christian.  If you choose to wave around the banner of The Big Lie, don’t be surprised when no one believes you when you tell them that Jesus rose from the dead.  Or that he is the Son of God.  Or that he has changed your life (changed you into what, a big fat liar?).  Or that he alone is ‘the way, the truth, and the life.’ 

It’s decision time.  Do you want to follow a liar and make it impossible for others to believe the truth about Jesus?  Or do you value Jesus, the living embodiment of truth, enough to call out both The Big Lie and The Big Liar?  You don’t have to become a Democrat to do that.  You just have to tell the truth and reject the lies. 

It’s time for Christians everywhere to stop playing this foolish, yes, even evil, political game. 

It’s time to face the truth.

If we do not, we will surely face the consequences. 

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent

Loss

‘Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle’ – attributed, variously, to Socrates or Plato

‘When Jesus saw the crowd, he was filled with compassion’ – Matthew 14:14

All week long I felt it coming.  I had no idea what ‘it’ was.  Not because I had no way of knowing, but because my mind blocked it.  But I felt it: a dark, looming remembrance waiting to catch me unawares and take me down.  I went to bed last night in one of those funks that you can’t explain but makes the world feel like a hopeless, compassionless place.  Somehow, I fell asleep, and this morning, I woke to the realization of what ‘it’ was. 

Today is Friday.  One year ago, four months after losing my Mom to cancer, my family and I learned that my Dad had tested positive for Covid.  Less than three days later, in the early hours of Monday morning, he was gone too. 

I wrote a tribute to my Dad that week.  It was the only way to process the loss.  We could not have a funeral.  A short time later, in the midst of hissy fits over mask-wearing, the insanity of a ‘plandemic’ conspiracy theory, and comments about how Covid was no big deal because old people died all the time anyway, I penned and posted The Great Divide, wherein I noted that the pandemic was bound to produce two different groups of people in our society: those who lost loved ones to Covid and those who did not.  The latter group, I feared, would simply never understand what the former was going through. 

A year later, with nearly 570,000 deaths in the United States alone that former group is millions strong.  I am thankful for the emergence of a third group, people who have not lost loved ones, but whose compassionate hearts have responded with sensitivity, grace, and a willingness to sacrifice for the sake of the vulnerable.  If you belong to that group, I thank you. 

But I have to be honest.  Most days, I don’t feel thankful.  Most days, and maybe especially this week, as I wrestle with my loss and watch a world that is mostly just excited to move on, I feel only sadness and pain.  Most days, I feel as if most people don’t and never will understand.  If I am really being honest, most days, I feel as if most people don’t and never will care. 

The fact that some will be mad at me for being honest about my feelings only proves my point.  Am I not allowed to grieve?  Must those of us who have lost loved ones keep to ourselves and remain quiet?  Must we suffer silently so as not to ruin anyone else’s good time? 

A couple of weeks ago, I urged the people in the church I serve to be kind to one another as we (hopefully) emerge from the pandemic.  Many are struggling, for all sorts of reasons, not just the loss of loved ones.  Many have suffered loss.  And for many, those losses have been far greater than the ‘loss of freedom’ due to the restrictions designed to save lives, or the inability to get their hair done at the salon, or having to forego a weekly gathering at the local watering hole.  Many are emerging with emotional, psychological, and spiritual scars.  And many have had to endure the loss of people they love, whether to Covid or something else, while the world around them hasn’t seemed to care one bit. 

So today, I urge again that people be kind.  As you make decisions and interact with people in the coming weeks and months, let mercy lead you.  Be sensitive and compassionate in your encounters with others, especially with those who have suffered loss.  Kindness is what the folks on the dark side of the Great Divide need right now. 

One more thing.  If you haven’t done so already, please, get vaccinated.  Maybe you think it won’t make much difference for you, but for the vulnerable, like my Dad was in late April of 2020, it could mean the difference between life and death. 

And for those of us who grieve, your demonstration of compassion will mean the world. 

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent

Photo from a memorial to Covid victims in Belmar, NJ, taken by my sister Kate MacDonald.

No Other Foundation

‘For no one can lay any foundation other than the one that has been laid; that foundation is Jesus Christ’ – 1 Corinthians 3:11

Last night I read the news that Jim Caviezel, the actor and professed disciple most famous for playing Jesus in The Passion of the Christ, has added his name to the Christian Hall of Shame.  Promoting an upcoming movie at a far-right conspiracy conference (what in God’s name was he even doing there?) he pushed the QAnon conspiracy theory that an international cabal (made up of rich Jews, liberal Democrats, and Hollywood elites, among others) take drugs procured through the harvesting of children’s blood.  Seriously.  You can’t make this stuff up.

My immediate thought was: not again. 

In recent years, we have seen many famous Christians fall from grace.  I won’t list the names here, first because there are tragically too many, second because what would be the point?  Many of these folks have been stars of the Christian culture I was raised to believe in, folks who had inspired me significantly in my own faith journey.  I suppose one lesson I might glean from that is that God can use anyone, and often works through broken vessels to advance his purposes.[1]  But right now, what I feel for the most part is embarrassment.  Embarrassment that, once again, in icon from Christian culture whom I have pointed to time and again as an example of faith has proven to be a first-class moron. 

Actually, I feel more than just embarrassment.  To tell the truth, moments like these shake my faith a little.  It would be surprising if they didn’t.  Like I said, many of these fallen Christians have been part of my own faith journey.  Their example has propelled me along at crucial moments.  If they are frauds (or worse) what does that say about my faith? Is that fraudulent too?  

Before I shock some of you too much, let me assure you that my faith is not fraudulent.  But the fact that such a thought would enter my head even for a moment, even in jest, concerns me.  It causes me to wonder if others might think it too, and not just for a moment.  Let’s face it, each of these fallen Christian celebrities, not to mention their aggregate influence, has done considerable damage to the faith of many believers.  In some cases, the damage may last a lifetime.

And that, reader, is something to write about.

That the fall of Christian celebrities can damage a person’s faith, reveals the folly of ‘Christian celebrity.’  Throughout Christian history, there have been notable followers of Jesus, men and women who, through their ‘long obedience in the same direction,’ to use Eugene Peterson’s phrase, have demonstrated what the life of discipleship looks like.  Such men and women deserve to be read about, studied, and respected as examples to emulate.  As Paul once said, ‘imitate me, as I imitate Christ’ (1 Corinthians 11:1).  But today, and for some time, we have raised up models for emulation who have not, at least not for a long time in the same direction, modeled Christlikeness.  Rather, we have made idols of those who, say, star in a movie, or build a large following using principles drawn more from the world of business than the Bible, or have nice hair, or a silver tongue, or look good in a pair of skinny jeans.  Charisma, biblically speaking, refers to a person having a gift of the Spirit; today it means having the right look, the right words, and the ability to make people (supposedly spiritually) swoon.  These are not the Christian saints of old.  These are Christian Celebrities.  And there is a ginormous difference between a saint and a celebrity. 

But more to the point, Paul’s words about imitation remind us that even as we read and study those who have exhibited lifelong faithfulness and Christlikeness, we really shouldn’t imitate them.  The only sense in which we should is to the extent that they imitated Christ.  He, and he alone, is the one we have been called to follow.  He, and he alone, is the one we are called to imitate.[2]  We cannot build our faith on the cult of Christian celebrity, or even Christian sainthood, for there is no other foundation than the one that has already been laid, and that foundation is Jesus Christ (1 Corinthians 3:11).

I was hurt (that’s not too strong a word) last night when I read about Jim Caviezel.  I suspect that many others will be too.  As they (you?) have been, time and again, as the idols of Christian celebrity have fallen like so many poorly stacked dominoes.  

And so, if your faith has been shaken, let me urge you to take this opportunity to re-center your faith where it belongs.  We should not believe because Christian celebrities inspire us.  We should believe because Jesus does. 

As I thought of these things this morning, I coincidentally (not!) heard the stirring words The Good Confession by Andrew Peterson, words that remind me why I believe:

All I know is that I was blind
But now I see that
Though I kick and scream,
Love is leading me.

And every step of the way
His grace is making me
With every breath I breathe
He is saving me.

And I believe.

Yes.  That’s why I believe.  Jesus is my foundation.  There is no other.  No not one. 

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent

[1] For this I am thankful, being a broken vessel myself. 

[2] By the way, on more than one occasion, Jesus explicitly rejected the chance to be a celebrity (see, Matthew 4:5-7; John 6:14-15).

Who are these gods?

A Poem for Holy Week inspired by Isaiah 46

Who are these gods?

Who neither move nor speak,

And yet they do.

Hoisted high by men,

Lugged on carts of wood and iron.

Bel, Nebo,

Plutus, Mars,

Aphrodite,

Narcissus, Phobos,

Bacchus, hundreds more –

These we fashion, with steel,

Celluloid, nightmares, selfishness.

We heed the voices of our creation,

And follow, though we carry them.

Encumbrances all.  So heavy!

The gods crash to earth, as we

Fall beneath.  Crushed.  Ruined.

These gods we could not carry,

But they –

Carried us into captivity. 

Who is this God?

Who moves and speaks,

All on His own.

Hoisted high by men,

Nailed to a cross of wood with iron.

Bel, Nebo,

Plutus, Mars,

Aphrodite,

Narcissus, Phobos,

Bacchus, hundreds more –

These are unmade, with love,

Compassion, dreams, sacrifice.

We heed the voice of our Creator,

And follow, as He carries us.

Encumbrances gone.  So buoyant!

The gods crash to earth, as we

Are lifted.  Raised.  Renewed.

Those gods we could not carry,

But He –

Carried us into eternity. 

The Bird and the Weasel

A parable, inspired by a photograph taken by Brian Le-May. 

Once upon a time there was a Bird who lived in a forest with his wife and a nest full of eggs.   

One bright morning Bird said good-bye to his wife, who was sitting on their eggs, keeping them safe and warm, and set off in search of food. Bird was a good provider for the ones he loved.

Bird flew to a clearing and began to look about. He was careful, for the forest was full of wily predators. He swiveled his head from side to side and pirouetted from time to time to make sure no one snuck up from behind. But he became distracted for just a moment.  And in the forest, even one moment is enough for a wily predator to strike.

Weasel was one of the wily predators in the forest. He too had a family to provide for, and he too was a good provider for the ones he loved. Weasel saw Bird dancing in the field and stealthily crept toward him. He waited patiently for his moment, and with a mighty lurch, leapt onto Bird’s back. 

Bird’s instincts shouted, ‘Fly!’  He thrust out his wings and took to the air. He was of course terrified to have Weasel on his back. But no more terrified than Weasel as he soared into the sky on the back of Bird.

After the initial fright, Weasel spoke into Bird’s ear. ‘That was a smart move Bird. But you are nonetheless through. I have you right where I want you. My jaws are near your neck. I can bite at any moment. Land now and let me go, or I shall bite you now and you will die.’

Bird thought quickly.  ‘You dare not Weasel.  You know, or at least you should, that the moment you bite, I shall fall. Then you will die too.’

Weasel, having never flown before, had not considered this. He thought a moment. ‘Well then Bird. It comes to this. You can’t fly forever. You will eventually have to land. And when you do, I will bite you then and you will die.’

This flummoxed Bird for half a second. But he was a wise bird and found an appropriate response. ‘If that is your plan Weasel, then I will fly higher and higher until I can fly no more. Then I shall fall, and you will fall with me. You will die as well.’

Weasel grunted, ‘Drat!’  He felt trapped. And indeed he was. What would he do? He was a wily creature, but this seemed beyond him. He looked over Bird’s wing to the earth far below and considered his dilemma anew. He nearly passed out.  The situation seemed hopeless.

Bird, sensing Weasel’s distress, spoke into the silence. ‘I suggest we make a deal. For good or for ill, our lives are now bound together. Neither of us can live without the other.  We can no longer think in terms of ‘me,’ Weasel.  We must think in terms of ‘we.’’   

Weasel wondered what Bird meant and asked, ‘What sort of deal do you propose?’

Bird answered, ‘This: I will promise to land us safely, and you will promise not to bite me. Then we will go back to our respective places in the forest and continue our lives.’

Weasel was doubtful. ‘How do I know you won’t try a trick move as you land and throw me off?’

Bird told it straight. ‘You don’t. Just as I don’t know you won’t bite me when we land. We will have to trust each other.’

Weasel thought of this. Birds and weasels had never trusted each other before.  Could they trust each other now?

Bird, who was growing tired (it is hard to fly with a weasel on one’s back) hastened the conversation along. ‘Time is ticking Weasel. What do you say?’

Weasel realized he had no choice. ‘Okay Bird. I will take the deal. If you will promise to land us safely, I will promise not to bite you.’

‘I so promise,’ replied Bird.

‘And I as well,’ answered Weasel.

Bird circled around and headed back to the clearing. He knew he could not fly much further. As he came in for the landing, he feared Weasel would not keep his promise. He was after all, a weasel.

Weasel was also frightened. Would Bird keep his promise and land safely? But he knew Bird was right. Their lives were bound together. There was no choice but to trust Bird.

His trust was well founded. Bird landed in almost the precise place where Weasel had jumped on. Weasel jumped off just as quickly.

Bird and Weasel looked intently at one another. Both were exhausted. Bird from flying with a Weasel on his back, Weasel from, well, flying at all.

Bird was the first to speak. ‘Well Weasel, I have kept my promise. Will you now keep yours?’

‘Yes Bird,’ replied Weasel.  ‘A promise is a promise. Our lives were bound together, and perhaps they still are.’  Weasel smiled. ‘See you around Bird,’ he said, and with a sociable wink, scampered merrily away.

Bird took to the air. He was still tired, but flying was easier without Weasel on his back. He went home to his nest and wife, who was still sitting on their eggs, keeping them safe and warm.

Photo by Kevin Jansen courtesy of Unsplash. To see Brian Le-May’s original photo, click here.

Future Generations

‘One generation commends your works to another; they tell of your mighty acts – Psalm 145:4’ (NIV)

David states a simple principle in this verse.  Each generation is responsible to pass to the next the evidence of God’s mighty works.  Typically, we think of this in terms of telling the stories of what God has done.  We find people doing this throughout scripture, recounting stories of God’s great acts in Israel’s history in their writings, festivals (Passover being one example), and songs.  In all of this we perceive the responsibility to preserve the stories of God’s great acts and to pass them along to the next generation. 

But the works of God are found in more than stories.  In another Psalm David wrote, ‘the heavens proclaim the glory of God, and the skies display the works of his hands’ (19:1).  This sentiment is expressed throughout the Bible, that the works of God are manifest in creation (see, e.g., Romans 1:20).  Indeed, you might say God tells the story of his existence and glory in the things he has made.  Consider the words of Augustine:

‘Some people, in order to discover God, read books.  But there is a great book, the very appearance of created things.  Look above you!  Look below you!  Read it.  God, whom you want to discover, never wrote that book with ink.  Instead, he set before your eyes the things he has made.  Can you ask for a louder voice than that?’

The Church Father Irenaeus agrees: ‘the initial step for a soul to come to knowledge of God is contemplation of nature.’  Who can doubt it?  A starry sky, the expanse of the ocean, the forest primeval, the mountains in their Autumn hues, the remarkable complexity and diversity of life – it all bears witness to the mighty works of God.  In all this, we perceive another facet of our responsibility: we must preserve God’s mighty works in nature and pass them along to future generations. 

But we aren’t.    

I have been reading David Wallace-Wells’ remarkably comprehensive and terrifying book, The Uninhabitable Earth: Life After Warming.  It is a scientifically informed exploration of climate change, both the evidence for it (which is overwhelming) and the consequences that we can expect to experience in both this century and the next.  I commend the book to your reading list.  But if I may bottom line things, we are in deep trouble.  No matter what we do from this point forward, the damage we have inflicted on God’s creation over the past 75 years or so is almost certain to raise global temperatures two degrees Celsius by 2100.  The Paris Climate Accords, which the United States recently rejoined after an insane hiatus, are designed to keep warming below that threshold.  A two-degree rise will invoke drastic consequences, most of which are at this point unavoidable.  But even worse is that if we do not do something equally drastic to curtail our rising carbon emissions, the rise will be even higher, anywhere from three to six degrees according to conservative estimates, perhaps as high as eight.  The consequences along that continuum are not just drastic, they are catastrophic.  And we are headed for them.  As of today, very few countries have met their goals under the Paris Climate Accords.  Most, including the worst offenders, are increasing their carbon emissions as we speak.  We are, by our actions, racing through a century during which the temperature will surely rise significantly more than two degrees. 

Which means that in the coming decades, and certainly by 2100, we can expect the following:

  • Rising temperatures that will make life near the equator impossible
  • Massive crop failure and farmland loss across multiple continents
  • Flooding of Biblical proportions along coastal areas throughout the world
  • A surge in wildfires and consequent property damage and loss of life
  • Massive hurricanes, typhoons, and tornadoes
  • Water shortages (this is already a problem.  Wallace-Wells notes that ‘as soon as 2030, global water demand is expected to outstrip demand by 40%’).
  • Dying Oceans (rising acidity, eco-system destruction, and species loss including the loss of oxygen producing diatoms that are responsible for much of the oxygen we breathe)
  • Widespread loss of animal habitats
  • Mass extinctions
  • Biodiversity loss
  • Toxic air
  • Plagues (viral and bacterial)
  • Economic collapse
  • Climate Refugees, as many as one billion
  • War (depleted resources will ignite them; it should be noted that the United States military takes climate change very seriously.  They are well aware of the instability it brings).

This is NOT hysteria or alarmism.  This is verifiable scientific fact.  There is more than mere consensus in the scientific community about this.  There is near unanimity of opinion (the outliers are the sort who put Galileo under house arrest for claiming the sun was the center of our solar system).  My God, if only ¼ of the items on that list come to pass, and I should note the list is far from exhaustive, we will be, by century’s end, in a world of hurt. 

This is the world we are passing on to our children and grandchildren.  This is the manner in which we are commending God’s wonderful works to future generations.  If we don’t pull our heads from the sand quickly, we will have failed to do what David – what the whole Bible – commands. 

It’s time to educate ourselves, change the way we live, and demand that our leaders take dramatic action to stave off the worst that climate change will bring. 

I end with a story.   

In the Babylonian Talmud, we read of the sage, Honi, who was walking along the road.  He saw a man planting a carob tree.  Honi asked him, ‘How long will it take for this tree to bear fruit?’

‘Seventy years,’ the man replied.

‘Honi then asked, ‘Are you so healthy a man that you expect to live that length of time and eat its fruit?’

The man answered, ‘I found a fruitful world because my ancestors planted it for me.  Likewise, I am planting for my children.’

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent

Carry the Fire

‘Sin will be rampant everywhere, and the love of many will grow cold’ – Jesus, Matthew 24:12 (NLT)

Cormac McCarty’s The Road is as darkly dystopian a novel as you will find.  It tells the story of a man and his son struggling to survive in a post-apocalyptic world that is literally cold and growing colder.  It is a world with few survivors attempting to escape cannibalistic bands of men.  If this sounds awful, it is, but the story is nonetheless touching and beautiful.  Hope abounds, as father and son hold on to one another, loving each other deeply from the heart, learning together what it means to live with faith.  Throughout the novel, the father encourages his son with a simple phrase: carry the fire.  The world around them is dark and hopeless, but they carry within them a spark of life they dare not, will not, allow the world to quench.  This is how to survive in a cold world that is growing colder: you ‘carry the fire.’ 

I’ve been meditating the past several weeks on a familiar passage from Paul’s second letter to his son in the faith Timothy.  It goes like this:

‘For a time is coming when people will no longer listen to sound and wholesome teaching. They will follow their own desires and will look for teachers who will tell them whatever their itching ears want to hear. They will reject the truth and chase after myths.  But you should keep a clear mind in every situation. Don’t be afraid of suffering for the Lord. Work at telling others the Good News, and fully carry out the ministry God has given you’ – 2 Timothy 4:3-5. 

I’ve known those words for as long as I can remember.  But they have never felt more apt than they do now.  We live in a time when facts do not matter.  People are following the darkest inclinations of their hearts and accepting as true any cockamamie theory that justifies their expression.  They are indeed rejecting truth and embracing strange myths (e.g., Q Anon, Pizza gate, The Steal).  Elected leaders – and religious leaders – who consciously know better go along with such insanity, believing that they can use said dark expressions to forge political coalitions to remain in, and expand upon, their positions of power.  Sin has been part of the world since the Fall, but ours is a time of descending shadow.  We face the sort of days Jesus warned about.  Sin is rampant everywhere, and the love of many is growing colder by the minute. 

How does one live in such a world? 

Carry the fire. 

That is Paul’s advice to Timothy, his son in the faith.  Not in so many words, but it’s what he means. 

He breaks his advice down into four main points.    

First, we must keep a clear head in every situation.  Rudyard Kipling’s famous poem, A Father’s Advice to his Son, begins, ‘if you can keep your head about you, when others are losing theirs and blaming it on you…’  That seems to sum things up well.   People around us have lost their heads.  But disciples of Jesus must not lose theirs.  We must, as the author of Hebrews puts it, keep our eyes fixed upon Jesus.  While others wander into myths, we must remain deeply rooted in the way, truth, and life of our Lord.  We must, as Rich Mullins sang years ago, continue as the children who love while the nations rage.

Second, we must not be afraid of suffering.  Too many believers have been silent in these times, fearful of the repercussions of speaking truth into the darkness.  Church leaders have feared losing their flocks, ministries, or positions.  Ordinary believers (as if there were such a thing!) fear losing friends and community standing.  Folks, if we’re fearful of such things now, what will we do when things get worse?  Paul wrote to Timothy from prison, awaiting his own death.  The very next verses in his letter tell of how he was being poured out as a drink offering for his faith.  Yet Paul was not afraid of suffering.  He knew it was part of what can happen when you live faithfully for Jesus.  Flannery O’Connor put her finger on the problem of people who don’t understand this basic truth when she wrote, ‘they think faith is a big electric blanket, when of course it is a cross.’  As believers living in a world that is cold and growing colder, we had better be prepared to pick up ours and follow Jesus.  We cannot be afraid. If the world is to find hope beyond the darkness of our times, we must do what we have been called to do. 

Third, we are to work at telling others the Good News.  Some translations put this, ‘do the work of an evangelist.’  An evangelist is one who proclaims Good News.  We who follow Jesus have the best news of all and have been empowered to share it far and wide.  The Kingdom has come.  There is another way to live.  We need not be captive to either strange myths or our darkest impulses.  People must know this. We must stand at the crossroads and live out the values of the Kingdom, pointing the world to Jesus and his way.  To paraphrase N.T. Wright, it is our call to preach hope wherever there is hopelessness, justice wherever there is injustice, peace wherever there is violence, and love wherever there is hatred.  We are to preach Jesus, incarnate, crucified, and resurrected to a world that is cold and growing colder, that it might find the warmth it needs to thrive again. 

And finally, we are to fully complete the ministry that God has given us.  This will be different for each of us.  But every Christian has a ministry.  Whatever it is, whether it is running a global ministry, pastoring a small church, caring for a handicapped child, preserving the beauty of God’s creation, loving the neighbor across the street, or any number of other wonderful things, we are to continue to bloom wherever God has planted us until we are directed to another mission field or else our race has run.  God will show us, each day, what he desires us to do.  Ours is to draw close to him, discern his will, and perform whatever task he gives.  In a world that is cold and growing colder, this may seem to not make much difference at times.  No matter.  We must be faithful to the end.  We must do what is right.  We must follow the lead of our Lord and Savior. And trust the rest to him. 

This is how we live in times such as ours.  We do not give up.  We fight the good fight.  We finish the course.  We keep the faith.  We pass on the torch of faith to those who come behind us.  Just as those who carried it faithfully in the past passed it along to us. 

The world is dark and cold my friends, and things may get darker and colder still in days to come.

Carry the fire.

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent

It’s Time to Abandon the Empire

‘Whenever the Spirit of God blows like a hurricane through Christian history, it is through prophets and lovers who have surrendered unconditionally to the folly of the Cross’ – Brennan Manning

It was tough living in first century Palestine, at least if you were a faithful Jew.  Herod the Great, and his sons after him, collaborated with Rome to impose Greco-Roman politics and culture upon Israel with evangelistic fervor. The way of Herod, aka the way of empire, the way of wielding power from above to impose one’s will upon those below, was having its way throughout the land. This was the world of Jesus.

In his book, The Jesus Way, Eugene Peterson points out something rather remarkable about Jesus and his time: despite the virtual omnipresence of the Roman Empire and its puppet kings, Jesus pretty much went about his business as if they didn’t exist. Only once did he briefly mention the emperor (Mark 12:17), and it was the same with the house of Herod (Luke 13:32).  He called Herod Antipas a ‘fox,’ which was just enough of an insult to let everyone know what he thought of that family’s wily political ways. Not that he was unaffected by these miscreants. He certainly was. His birth in Bethlehem was brought about by imperial edict. As a toddler he fled with his refugee family to escape Herod’s mania.  As a craftsman in Nazareth he felt the financial pinch of the empire’s oppressive taxation. As an itinerant preacher he walked among centurions and soldiers who jealously eyed him with suspicion.   And at the end of his life he was deemed a political enemy of the state and crucified under orders of the Roman Governor Pilate.  Even his grave was guarded by Roman soldiers. From birth to death, Jesus life was ramed by the politics and policies of empire. 

But he never let the empire dictate the course of his life.  He simply swam in its waters (without ‘getting wet,’ i.e., being contaminated by them) as he heeded the voice of his Father.  Never once did he seek to use the empire’s power to further his message. He never petitioned it for a redress of grievances (though the Gospels show evidence of other religious leaders doing just that). He never asked Herod to implement just laws or further the Kingdom of God on earth. It is striking that during the greatest injustice ever perpetrated, his own arrest and trial, he never once asked either Herod or Pilate for mercy.  In fact, he was silent before Herod, and largely so before Pilate.  To the latter he would only say that his Kingdom didn’t operate along the lines of power politics and violence, as Pilate’s did, and that in any event his life was in his Father’s hands, not Rome’s. In other words, even when the regents of the world stood before him and asked for his input on the subject of his own death, he pretty much ignored them. 

This is not to say he never addressed the powers of his day.  On the contrary, he challenged them at every turn. His every move in life was, in a sense, a political act; a statement in word or action that decried the way of empire and violence. But he never employed the ways and means of the empire to make his case. He never sought political power or assistance. He never enmeshed himself, even to the slightest degree, in the empire’s methods. He simply went about his Father’s business, strolling about the dominion of the empire, showing everyone another way to change the world.

There are of course many reasons why he took this approach. But most crucial is that empire simply wasn’t his Father’s way. His Fathers way was (and is) the way of the Cross, which Paul described as the wisdom of God and the power of God (1 Corinthians 1:24). Jesus knew that using the ways and means of empire to make the world a better place would be useless. Might as well try to make the sun rise in the west. The empire was the empire was the empire, and always would be. There was nothing to gain by becoming entangled with it and everything to lose. Get involved in the empire, pursue its ways, and you’ll only end up talking, looking, and smelling like the empire. You might gain at least a part of the world, but in the process lose your own soul (Mark 8:36). Much better, and ultimately far more effective, to follow the way of the Cross.

Such thoughts race through my mind today in the wake of Donald Trump’s second acquittal in the Senate, supposedly the ‘greatest deliberative body on earth.’  We all knew how it would end. And we were right. If you were hoping for another outcome you were fooling yourself. You were counting on an empire to do the right thing. But an empire is an empire is an empire. It never does the right thing. Maybe once in a blue moon it makes a move in the right direction.  Even a blind pig will occasionally find a truffle.  But in the end, the forces of empire, the power players who long to impose their will on those below them, always manage to get their way. It was empire that created the system after all, and it works exactly the way empire intends. 

I’ve spent several years now lamenting and fighting the empire, or at least the version known as Trumpism.  But after everything that’s happened, Trumpism is still alive, still menacing the nation in the wake of insurrection. I will continue to stand against it, of course, but in coming days I’m going to do better at remembering the tactics of Jesus. I’m resolving to spend less time paying attention to what the empire is doing. Sure, I will vote. I will speak out about issues that matter. I will stand against racism, seek solidarity with the vulnerable, work to preserve the beauty of God’s creation, lots of things.  I may even show up at a protest or two. But I am not going to expend the best parts of myself watching and worrying about the minutiae of what the empire is doing, thinking that by doing so I can somehow will it to do the right thing. The vote today proves what I really knew all along.  It never will.   

So, instead, I’m going to follow the way of the cross. I’m going to stroll around the dominion of empire doing my best to show everyone another way to change the world. I’m going to try to be more like my Jesus (I am well aware of how far I fall short of that standard), the one who went about his business of challenging the empire and its ways without seeming to notice it. My life will still be lived in the shadow of the beast, as his was, and in some ways shaped by the beast’s designs and machinations. But I will not waste my time worrying about those designs and machinations. I will instead seek my Fathers will and place myself in his hands. I will live by the creed of another Kingdom, not the Pilatian, Herodian, or Trumpian kingdoms of the world.   

Will doing this make a difference? I have no idea.  It really isn’t any of my concern. In the inside cover of my Bible I have taped a quote from Brother Dominique, a friend and mentor of the late Brennan Manning. It reads:

‘All that is not the love of God has no meaning for me.  I can truthfully say that I have no interest in anything but the love of God which is in Christ Jesus.  If God wants it to, my life will be useful through my word and witness.  If he wants it to, it will bear fruit through my prayers and sacrifices.  But the usefulness of my life is His concern, not mine.  It would be indecent of me to worry about that.’[1]

It’s time to get out of the shallow end of the pool and live that statement to the full.

Let the chips fall where they may. I will trust God and follow Jesus.  I will follow the way of the Cross.

As Shane Claiborne and Chris Haw say, ‘enough with the donkeys and elephants. It’s time for the Lamb.’

It’s time to abandon the empire. 

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent

[1] From All is Grace, by Brennan Manning.

Signposts

‘It’s all a muddle’ – Stephen Blackpool, in Charles Dickens Hard Times

How naïve we were. 

Many of us thought, or at least hoped, that after January 20th, things would return to ‘normal.’  The Q Anon conspiracy would vanish.  The Proud and Boogaloo Boys?  They’d put down their guns and take up needlepoint.  The tens of millions who drank the Trumpian Kool-Aid?  They’d all join hands with the other side and sing Kumbaya.    The 197 members of Congress who voted to overturn an election would apologize.  The ringleaders, in both Congress and the former Administration, who actively worked to incite an insurrection would be held accountable.  Trump would be convicted of impeachment charges in the Senate.  White Evangelical ‘Christians’ who had made the devils bargain, exchanging their values for power, would fall on their faces and cry out to God for forgiveness.  White Supremacists would have an epiphany.  And the cult of Donald Trump would come to an abrupt and sudden end.  

Ok, maybe we didn’t think all that would happen.  But we at least hoped that major progress would be quickly made. 

Instead, almost the exact opposite is happening.  Q Anon is thriving, within the very halls that its adherents and allies attacked a mere matter of weeks ago.  Militia groups are arming (so much for needlepoint).  Trump fans are, well, still Trump fans.  Republicans in Congress are siding with those who lied about the election (not all mind you, just 90% of them).  The ringleaders have not only not been held accountable, but it looks like they will all get off scot free.  Trump will, barring a miracle, not be convicted by the Senate.  The aforementioned white Evangelicals are doubling down on the devil’s bargain.  White supremacy is going strong.  And the cult of Trump is nursing its wounds and planning a comeback for its master ‘in some form.’

The truth is that the country is mess.  Evil lingers still.  It will be back. One of America’s two major parties is choosing the path of insane conspiracy theories, lies, hate, and authoritarian tactics. [1]  It feels as if we stand on the edge of a dark abyss, and it is only a matter of time before we are pulled in.  It seems as if we are captives to our times, and there is little we can do about it as we watch dark events unfold. 

What are people of goodwill to do?  What, most particularly, are followers of Jesus to do? 

The answer is simple.  Live.  We are to live, knowing that we are not captives to our times.  We are the keepers of a better future.  We know that no matter what happens in the coming years, in the end, Julian of Norwich will be proven correct: ‘all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well.’  I have been struck as of late by the words by the late Francis Schaffer, a theologian who wrote extensively about the ongoing suffering and evil of our world, and the responsibility of the Christian who lives within it.  We are not to just resign ourselves as captives to our times, or to lay down and die in the face of the evil around us, any more than we are to join such evil.  We are to live in the midst of said evil differently, in the direction of what we know the future will be, in the direction of a world made new by the love and grace of God at the return of Jesus.  Schaffer wrote:

‘Wars will continue until the Prince of Peace comes, but we must pursue harmony now.  Hunger and poverty will remain until the Bread of Life returns, but we must still care for those in need now.  Sin will permeate this earth until the Spotless Lamb arrives, but we must preach forgiveness now.  Our actions today should be driven by our knowledge of what is to come.’ 

He is so right.  Yes, the world is a mess.  But we have been called to live as ‘citizens of heaven’ (Philippians 2:27), ‘strangers and exiles on earth’ (Hebrews 11:13) waiting for the better world that Christ will one day bring.  We are not captives of our times; we are liberated to live the in the light of the future that will be.  Even when the world around us is a total mess. 

Stephen Blackpool is one of my favorite Dickensian characters.  He is a mere ‘hand,’ a cog in a vast industrial machine, with little power or influence in a society ruled by misguided men.  ‘It’s all a muddle,’ he says, over and again, as he tries to figure things out.  He laments that there is nothing he can think of to make things better.  But at one point he grasps that carrying on in the way of the world will never work. He says: 

‘I cannot, with my little learning and my common way, tell you what will make all this better…but I can tell you what won’t.  The strong hand will never do it.  Victory and triumph will never do it.  Believing your side is unnaturally and always forever right, and the other side unnaturally always and forever wrong…will never do it till the Sun turns to ice.’[2]

Stephen is on to something.  The world is a muddle.  In our day as well as his.  Behaving like the world will never make anything better.  Power politics will never do it.  Winning at all costs, selling your values for power, will never do it.  Demonizing those you disagree with, to the point of violence, as so many do today, will never do it.  All of this is the way of empire.  The way of hate.  The way of vengeance. 

But living as children of light in a world of darkness, now that’s something.  Living as signposts that point to a better day that is to come, that might make a difference.  Living as those who believe in justice.  Living as peacemakers.  Living as truth tellers.  Living as those who love while those around us rage.  Those things just might make all the difference in the world. 

The world may be a mess, and maybe we can’t arrange all the improvements we would like.  Probably not.  But we can live as signposts pointing to coming day.  A day that, as followers of Jesus, we know is coming soon. 

Under Christ’s Mercy,

Brent

[1] I should add that even if the government stays ‘blue,’ that doesn’t rid us of evil.  Blue or Red (or yellow or purple for that matter), empires are empires.  They are inherently power seeking and corrupt (though under present circumstances, I’d prefer Blue over Red any day of the week). 

[2] Stephen speaks with a heavy accent.  With apologies to Mr. Dickens, I’ve cleaned it up to make it easier to understand.  I still love the original.