Categories
Religious

Paul\’s Keynote Address

“Love never fails.”
1 Corinthians 13:8 (Common English Bible)
One of my most dramatic experiences occurred one evening during a semester of study in Coventry, England. I gathered with other students to attend a performance of Handel’s Messiah in Coventry Cathedral. Hung from the chancel wall of that cathedral is a large tapestry that depicts Jesus seated in power over all creation, his two hands held up as if to communicate a blessing. We listened to the beautiful music from that oratorio, aware that we were being grasped by it’s message about the way the world ought to live, that we are to follow the way of Jesus and his example of love. As the Hallelujah Chorus began, the lights of the cathedral were dimmed, and then extinguished all together, leaving a bright spot light on the tapestry – a bright light on the seated Jesus offering his blessing to the world.

I was overcome with emotion. I stood to exit the cathedral to keep my tears private. As I turned my back on the chancel, turned my back on the seated Jesus now lit-up in the darkness, the visual impact almost brought me to my knees. The light on the tapestry was reflected on the all glass facade of the cathedral. Just outside of that cathedral, which was constructed following the Second World War, are the ruins of the original cathedral destroyed in the war. The visual impact that I experienced was Jesus seated in power, hands raised with a blessing, juxtaposed over the brokenness and devastation of the world. Since that evening I have often reflected on what it would mean if the world were to give itself completely over to the love of Jesus Christ.

This chapter of Paul’s first letter to the Corinthian Church, chapter 13, is regarded as his keynote address – Paul’s great oratorio of love. Like the twenty-third Psalm, this is one of those passages of our Bible that is so saturated with imagery, and beauty, and power that the substance of our faith reveals itself in uncommon ways. While it daunts the reader it also fascinates and challenges. For in this hymn of love, Paul does more than assert the supremacy of love. Here, Paul declares that it is love that gives every other gift its value. He names many of the treasured gifts of the Christian faith – the gift of tongues, the gift of prophecy, a sturdy faith that can move mountains, and a generosity beyond compare and boldly states that they amount to nothing without love.

Paul turns the searchlight onto our lives. In our Christian walk, in our corporate worship, do we have love for one another? He helps us examine ourselves deeply and honestly. Are we patient with one another? Are we kind? Do we practice humility rather than arrogance? Do we put aside irritability and complaints and the insistence on our own way and consider the well being of others? Have we developed the capacity to think beyond ourselves to consider what may be best for the larger faith community? Paul is relentless. He pushes the question further. Do we still behave as a child who protests much when things are not going our way or have we matured in the faith and placed away childish things? This is how Paul concludes his keynote address. And the question lingers for each one of us to answer, have we love for one another?

Joy,

Categories
Religious

Breaking and Remaking the Temple – Faith in a Time of Rioting

The following meditation was written by Doug Hood\’s son,
Nathanael Hood, MA, New York University

“At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. 
The earth shook, the rocks split…” (Matthew 27:51)
Once again, within our lifetimes, our country is torn by civil unrest. Enflamed by widely disseminated smartphone footage of a Minneapolis police officer kneeling on the neck of George Floyd, an unarmed black man, until he suffocated to death, organized protests have popped up in more than 200 cities demonstrating against police brutality. For many, particularly those in minority communities, the George Floyd killing was the final straw: memories of Rodney King in Los Angeles, Michael Brown in Ferguson, Eric Garner in New York City, Breonna Taylor in Louisville, and untold more have boiled over into an angry wave of civil disobedience. While the vast majority of the protestors have been nonviolent—living less than a mile from Barclays in Brooklyn, one of the national hotspots for the demonstrations, I can personally attest to this—there has still been looting, vandalism, and the wholesale destruction of property on the part of many so-called “activists.” And while many police have acted responsibly and even admirably—in several cities officers have actually marched with and demonstrated alongside the protestors—there are still widespread reports of unprovoked police violence such as the use of rubber bullets against non-protesting bystanders and tear gas towards accredited members of the press.
Social media has been awash with images of the unrest, and several are undoubtedly bound for the history books. But one of the most powerful, in my opinion, show the walls of St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York City the morning of May 30 after demonstrators desecrated them with antipolice slogans the night before. It’s an image to make one pause: here’s one of the oldest, grandest, and most sacred cathedrals in America, one which since its initial dedication has seen two World Wars, twenty-seven presidents, and countless worshippers baptized, married, and eulogized. Images like these shatter the aura of timelessness surrounding our holy spaces, reminding us of their presence in the eternal now. The church’s eyes might be lifted towards the eternal, but these pictures force us to remember and reexamine God’s mission in our everyday lives. So yes, the graffiti is a tragedy. One day the spray-paint will be washed away and St. Patrick’s Cathedral will seem as timeless as ever. But right now it—and the rest of the Christian community—is on the frontline of these riots.
How then should we react to these demonstrations? First, we must remember that civil disobedience and nonviolent protest are baked into the very DNA of Christianity. Jesus himself preached in the shadow of a violent colonizing force. His teachings flipped the societal status quo on its head, forcing the authorities to acknowledge the humanity of their subjects even as they repressed them. Consider Jesus’ command to turn the other cheek: by doing so, victims would force assailants to strike them a second time with the palm of their right hand (the left hand being unclean and unsuitable for striking), which in the customs of ancient Rome signified them as socioeconomic equals. We must also remember that destruction need not be a profane act. In fact, destruction is frequently a prelude to renewal. Remember that upon Jesus’ death, the Temple in Jerusalem was struck by an earthquake, the Temple curtain being torn asunder and the very stones smashed apart. The old ways needed to be destroyed before they could be restored with God’s new covenant. But—and this is important—nowhere do the Gospels say that anyone in the Temple was harmed or killed. In stark contradiction, the violent upheaval of the Temple led to the breaking of tombs and the resurrection of many “holy people” who returned to Jerusalem and “appeared to many people.” (Matthew 27:52-53) The destruction sanctified and gave life, it did not take it.
Perhaps we would do well to remember the teachings of Martin Luther King Jr., one of the architects of the American Civil Rights Movement. At a speech given at Stanford University in 1967, King famously reflected on the widespread rioting that ravaged the country. “I think America must see that riots do not develop out of thin air. Certain conditions continue to exist in our society which must be condemned as vigorously as we condemn riots,” he declared. He then delivered one of his most shocking (and frequently decontextualized) statements: “But in the final analysis, a riot is the language of the unheard. And what is it that America has failed to hear?” When we see the riots in our streets, the protests, the demonstrations—and yes, even the vandalism and destruction—we Christians must ask ourselves what we have failed to hear. What must we do to restore the Temple now that it’s being smashed again? How do we preserve and protect life without denying it?
Joy,

Categories
Religious

When You Don\’t Know

“Don’t be conformed to the patterns of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds so that you can figure out what God’s will is – what is good and pleasing and mature.”
Romans 12:2 (Common English Bible)
              My wife, Grace, and I celebrated our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary with an eight-day Caribbean cruise. That was in November of 2012 – four months after beginning a new ministry that took me from the Philadelphia area to Delray Beach, Florida. The last day was a sea day, the ship making its way back to Port Everglades, Fort Lauderdale, Florida. Placing an assortment of oatmeal cookies and chocolate chip cookies on a plate someone approached me, thrusting his hand toward me for a handshake, and said, “Hello Dr. Hood.” Naturally, I was startled. I am on a cruise ship of nearly 3,000 strangers. Who could possibly know me? The stranger continued, “I am a member of the First Presbyterian Church of Delray Beach. I saw you board the ship. I’ve been watching you during this cruise. I wanted to see what kind of man you were when you didn’t know you were being watched.”
              That is a good question for any of us. What kind of man, what kind of woman are we when we don’t know we are being watched? This question reminds me of a presidential race several decades ago. Suspicion whirred around one candidate, suspicion about his private life and fidelity to his marriage vows. The candidate boldly told the press, “Follow me. Watch me!” Apparently, he didn’t believe they would. They did. And he was caught being unfaithful to his wife. That was the end of his presidential run. What kind of man, what kind of woman are we when we don’t know we are being watched? It is a good question.
              The apostle Paul teaches us in his letter to the Roman Church that each of our lives are being molded and shaped by one of two forces, either by the world or by God. The world has its patterns and desires which would shape our lives and God has another pattern and desire for us. Fortunately, says Paul, we have a choice in the matter. It is a matter of where our attention is focused. Attention to the values and priorities of the world will result in feelings of scarcity, a fear that there is simply not enough to go around. Our response becomes one of struggle – wrestling with others to ensure our fair share. Attention to God and God’s values and priorities results in concern for others and generosity. The world will create a man or woman that is selfish, self-centered, and fearful. God creates a man or woman that is secure in God’s care and embodies hope for the future. Again, teaches Paul, we have the freedom to choose.
              The Christian life is a life lived in, through, and for God. Attention to God through regular prayer, reading the Bible, and intentional practices of obedience to what we hear in scripture increasingly conforms us to the image of Christ. Neglect of these things thrusts us into a default position of being conformed to the brokenness and disintegration of the world. Over time, we become someone who lives in the dark, fearful that someone will see what we are ashamed of. The apostle Paul is urging the church to recognize the negative and destructive forces of the world that seek to grasp us and shape us. “Don’t be conformed to the patterns of this world,” writes Paul. Rather, “be transformed by the renewing of your minds.” That is accomplished by living into a relationship with God. It is then we are not ashamed of what others see when we don’t know we are being watched. My conversation with the man on the ship ended that day with his gentle and gracious comment, “I look forward to you being my pastor, Dr. Hood.”
Joy,

Categories
Religious

In the Silence We Hear, in the Stillness We See

The following meditation was written by Doug Hood\’s son,
Nathanael Hood, MA, New York University

“My heart is not proud, Lord, my eyes are not haughty; I do not concern myself with great matters or things too wonderful for me. But I have calmed and quieted myself, I am like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child I am content. Israel, put your hope in the Lord both now and forevermore.” 
Psalm 131 (Common English Bible)

Since it began earlier this year, the global COVID-19 quarantine has had some truly remarkable effects on nature and the environment. Earlier this month an international team of scientists announced that the sudden halting of, among other things, factory production and car usage has resulted in global carbon emissions dropping by 17%. All around the world this reduction has revealed itself in shocking, unexpected ways. The perennially smog-drenched skies of Los Angeles are clean and blue for the first time in many people’s memories. The sediments traditionally churned up by Venetian boats have settled so completely that animal and plant life have returned to the city’s formerly mud-choked waterways. In Delhi—the most polluted city on earth—pollution has dropped so drastically that residents can now see the stars at night. I’ve personally experienced the effect this quarantine has had on New York City: for the first time since moving to Brooklyn almost three years ago I can actually smell the salt water of the Atlantic ocean.
Writer Julio Vincent Gambuto has described this period as the “Great Pause,” and indeed it seems as if the entire world is holding its breath. But it’s not just the environment that’s paused, it’s life itself for billions of people. Jobs have been lost, leaving countless families in financial limbo. Close-knit communities have been disrupted as people have been forced to abandon public gatherings. Parents have been stressed as schools have closed, forcing them to provide 24/7 childcare even while working. Marriages have been strained and tested as some couples have been separated by hospitalizations and others cloistered together in tiny living spaces for months on end. And for those self-isolating in quarantine, the days themselves have become a blur, the days running into weeks, the weeks running into months. Is it Monday, Wednesday, or Saturday? March, April, or May? What does it matter when they all seem the same?
Yet this pause need not be a negative one. In a recent sermon, Rabbi David Edleson of Temple Sinai in South Burlington, Vermont explained thusly: “I think it is very tough for many if not most of us just to sit still, just to BE home, to be present and to be content. This is a spiritual opportunity for growth. For stopping the focus on what we can’t do, and finding ways to be more content doing nothing, or doing simple things with those with us.” Indeed, the need for peace, silence, and nothingness is baked into the very DNA of the Abrahamic faiths whose God rested on the seventh day of creation. Our scriptures are all filled with visions of quiet and calm, of sabbath rests and high holy days, of fasting and contemplation. When Jesus calmed the storm on the Sea of Galilee, he rebuked the very winds with the word “peace.” Perhaps this “Great Pause” isn’t a curse but an opportunity to draw closer to God.
Psalm 131, one of the shortest psalms in the bible, provides one of the most striking visions of finding contentment in times of stillness and quiet. One of the fifteen Songs of Ascent—psalms believed to be sung by worshippers traveling to Jerusalem during pilgrim festivals—it celebrates calming oneself as an act of surrendering one’s pride before God, and with it one’s anxieties about the present and future. This ego-destruction frees us from the illusion that we can control our destinies, and that we are therefore responsible for the unexpected catastrophes and uncontrollable set-backs in our lives (a delusion common in America’s up-by-the-bootstraps culture). By submitting ourselves to the stillness of God, we release ourselves from psychological self-bondage. In this way we find a contentment in peace that is healing, not distressing as we rest in a pause that is holy, not destructive.

Joy,

Categories
Religious

Stuck Like Stockdale

The following meditation was written by Doug Hood\’s son,
Nathanael Hood, MA, New York University

‘Now, compelled by the Spirit, I’m going to Jerusalem. I don’t know what will happen to me there. What I do know is that the Holy Spirit testifies to me from city to city that prisons and troubles await me. But nothing, not even my life, is more important than my completing my mission. This is nothing other than the ministry I received from the Lord Jesus: to testify about the good news of God’s grace.”
Acts 20:22-24 (Common English Bible)
On September 9, 1965, naval pilot James Bond Stockdale was shot down while flying a mission over North Vietnam. Forced to eject from his disabled plane, Stockdale parachuted down into a village where the inhabitants brutally beat him and turned him over to the North Vietnamese as a prisoner of war. For the next seven-and-a-half years he was held in the Hỏa Lò Prison—the notorious “Hanoi Hilton”—where he held the dubious honor of being the most senior naval officer in captivity. During this time he and his fellow captives (including future senator John McCain) were savagely tortured, starved, and interrogated. Their treatment was so severe that inmates took it for granted that they’d eventually be broken through torture and forced to make anti-American statements. New arrivals were coached by other prisoners to do whatever it took to survive. “But you first must take physical torture,” they were solemnly warned.
As an officer, Stockdale’s captivity was particularly brutal; when he was repatriated in 1973 as part of Operation Homecoming he couldn’t stand upright or walk. But he nevertheless maintained what little composure he could, implementing a code of conduct for his fellow prisoners and routinely disfiguring himself so he couldn’t be used for North Vietnamese propaganda. Reflecting on his captivity in later years, Stockdale explained his mindset to business writer James C. Collins for his book Good to Great. He said that the prisoners who didn’t survive the Hilton were the optimists, the ones who believed that they’d be rescued or freed in no time. He explained that the key to withstanding extreme hardship was brutal realism: “You must never confuse faith that you will prevail in the end—which you can never afford to lose—with the discipline to confront the most brutal facts of your current reality, whatever they might be.” [Emphasis added] Collins would term this seemingly contradictory duality of hope and realism as the Stockdale Paradox.
Around the world, millions, if not literally billions, of people are finding themselves in another form of captivity while under quarantine for COVID-19. The physical, mental, and psychological effects have been staggering. According to federal studies binge drinking among those trying to self-medicate has skyrocketed. Many living alone have found themselves trapped in impromptu solitary confinement. Domestic violence has exploded around the world and with it a new wave of divorces and separations. Unemployment rates not seen since the Great Depression have thrown the lives and welfare of tens of millions of Americans into chaos, anxiety, and disarray. And with so many governments, both local and federal, domestic and international, treating the pandemic with a hands-off attitude exacerbated by widespread distrust of the scientific establishment, the global rate of infection doesn’t show any signs of slowing down.
To weather this storm, we Christians need to take a good, hard look at the Stockdale Paradox. We will not be able to pray this away, and neither will the virus suddenly vanish overnight. It will take great discipline and fortitude to make it to the other side. For guidance, we can turn to the Apostle Paul, who in the book of Acts racks up one of the most prominent records of suffering in scripture, being arrested, imprisoned, and shipwrecked numerous times. Paul was never deterred from his calling to spread the Gospel, but neither was he unrealistic about its cost. While preparing to depart for Jerusalem in the twentieth chapter, he explained that he fully expected another round of imprisonment. That was the harsh reality. But the hope that tempered it—the hope Stockdale would insist on almost two millennia later—is the grace and strength of Jesus Christ. May we find the same strength and comfort as we steel ourselves for the worst to come.

Joy,

Categories
Religious

Rethinking Sabbath

The following meditation was written by Doug Hood\’s son,
Nathanael Hood, MA, New York University

\”Jesus was teaching in one of the synagogues on the Sabbath. A woman was there who had been disabled by a spirit for eighteen years. She was bent over and couldn’t stand up straight. When he saw her, Jesus called her to him and said, “Woman, you are set free from your sickness.” He placed his hands on her and she straightened up at once and praised God. The synagogue leader, incensed that Jesus had healed on the Sabbath, responded, “There are six days during which work is permitted. Come and be healed on those days, not on the Sabbath day.” The Lord replied, “Hypocrites! Don’t each of you on the Sabbath untie your ox or donkey from its stall and lead it out to get a drink? Then isn’t it necessary that this woman, a daughter of Abraham, bound by Satan for eighteen long years, be set free from her bondage on the Sabbath day?” (Luke 13:10-16)
The January 12, 2010 Haiti earthquake was one of the greatest humanitarian crises of the last decade. The 7.0 magnitude quake demolished huge swathes of the countryside and multiple cities, destroying or damaging a quarter million homes and with them upwards of 316,000 lives. Millions of survivors suddenly found themselves homeless and forced to sleep out in the street or in makeshift shanty towns with little access to drinkable water. The lack of proper sanitation and hygiene led to the first major cholera outbreak of the modern era, eventually infecting over 800,000 with a disease that hadn’t been seen on the island in over a century. Corpses literally festered in the street as the government scrambled to dig mass graves. Though the international community quickly rallied to provide relief, delays in distribution led to widespread looting and violence among the survivors. But into this hell rescue workers continued to flood, despite the terror, despite the carnage, despite the destruction.
Among these was a six-man delegation from Israel’s ZAKA International Rescue Unit that performed crucial rescue operations in the capital Port-au-Prince. The team was comprised of Orthodox Jews who insisted on being flown out to rescue sites despite it being the Sabbath, the day when traditionally no work is allowed. According to Talmudic sources, there are thirty-nine categories of work prohibited on the Sabbath, many of them necessitated by emergency rescue work like sifting (“merakaid”), demolition (“soter”), and extinguishing fires (“meḥabeh”). And yet these six Orthodox Jews sifted, demolished, and extinguished, taking time off from their work only to wrap themselves in prayer shawls and recite Shabbat prayers. When asked about violating the Sabbath, ZAKA commander Mati Goldstein explained that they did it with pride: “We did everything to save lives [despite Sabbath]…we are here because the Torah orders us to save lives.”
Those familiar with Judaism might recognize this as the fulfillment of “pikuach nefesh”—Hebrew for “saving a life”—a deeply held principle derived from both the Torah and Talmud which argues that the preservation of human life overrides almost every religious rule. For Jews, when human life is on the line it’s blasphemous not to violate God’s commands. Christianity also has the principle of “pikuach nefesh” hard-wired into its DNA, demonstrated by Jesus’ deliberate defying of the religious authorities of his day in the Gospel of Luke by healing a woman crippled for eighteen years on the Sabbath. When challenged by the Pharisees, Jesus publicly humiliated them, pointing out their hypocrisy for taking more care of their animals than their fellow human beings. As Jesus echoed elsewhere in the Gospel of Mark with his declaration that the Sabbath was made for man not man for the Sabbath, religious laws exist to help mankind. Mindless zealotry at the expense of people it itself blasphemous.
During this time of crisis, communities of faith from all the world’s major religions are struggling to cope with maintaining their traditions in the face of social distancing orders and quarantines. Christianity in particularly is feeling the sting of isolation: Sunday services are being live-streamed, baptisms delayed, funerals performed without the deceased’s loved ones. We can’t even observe Communion, one of our most important sacraments. Ask any pastor, deacon, or elder and they’ll tell you that the emotional and psychological toll of these restrictions on their congregations is devastating. But perhaps we as Christians can recontextualize these absences as a sacrament in itself. By not gathering in person to worship, we’re slowing the spread of the disease. By staying apart, we’re keeping our communities safe. By not keeping the Sabbath together, we respect the “pikauch nefesh” and the true Sabbath taught by Jesus, the one based in human life and dignity.
Joy,

Categories
Religious

You\’re Not Alone

“Those who put their strength in you are truly happy; pilgrimage is in their hearts. As they pass through the Baca Valley, they make it a spring of water. Yes, the early rain covers it with blessings.”
Psalm 84:5, 6 (Common English Bible)
              Recently the crew of the Caribbean Princess cruise ship produced a music video, You’re Not Alone Princess Cruise Family. As the cruise industry continues to navigate a difficult environment brought on by this worldwide pandemic, crewmembers – particularly those still onboard their ships – are growing increasingly discouraged. My daughter, Rachael, is among those who have been onboard for over fifty days now. The discouragement is deepen by the vitriolic coverage the press has given the cruise business. True, passengers and crewmembers of cruise ships have become ill from this virus, but so have residents of Detroit, New York City, and Rome. Pain and discouragement is felt wherever this virus has set-up residence.
              The music video produced by the crew of the Caribbean Princess seeks to change the emotional and spiritual tone that is swiftly moving through the Princess Cruise family – and, indeed, throughout the industry. Swamped by discouragement, pain, and considerable dislocation from home and family, this video creatively joins the family of those who cruise, both passengers and crew, together with hope. Everyone is reminded that though they are separated by sea, each one belongs to a family. More, there is encouragement that if each person holds onto one another through this storm, they will emerge wiser and stronger. The pointed message of the video – simply stated – is, let’s make something positive emerge from this.
              Psalm 84 captures the moment when the people of Israel are similarly discouraged, wandering in an arid place between Egypt and the Promised Land. Forty years is a long time to have a promise of returning home, yet, day after day, they wake-up in a sea of wilderness. “Baca Valley” refers to a poplar or balsam tree (2 Sam 5:23-24), which is known to grow in arid places. It is easy to imagine that the women and men and children who are in this arid and inhospitable place would have their spirits shot to pieces, their faith wrecked, their morale broken, and lives unraveled by cynicism. Over time, personal deterioration is inevitable.
              But notice that this description fails. Rather, the people of God are “truly happy.” That is because they have chosen not to focus on their present circumstances, which are dire. They choose to keep their focus on God. That change of focus strengthens them and the arid place becomes as though it is covered with springs of water. By a change of focus, they have determined not to be a casualty of an inhospitable environment. It is as though they are singing the lyric of the Princess music video: “You will never feel like you’re alone. You are never sailing on your own. We are in this together from the day we left our homes. We will stick together, fight through every storm.”
Joy,

Categories
Religious

Undefeated

“We know that God works all things together for good for the ones who love God, 
for those who are called according to his purpose.”
Romans 8:28 (Common English Bible)
              Recently, the captain of the Ruby Princess, of the Princess Cruise Line, made this disembarkation announcement to the crew who were leaving the ship due to the disruption of cruising by the COVID-19 virus: “This invisible virus has incredible power. We can’t see it but we see the results of what it is doing. One thing, though, this virus cannot do; one thing in this virus that makes it imperfect. This virus can’t break us. This virus actually has one design flaw. It makes us stronger.” From our struggle and pain with this pandemic, communities are coming together, great resilience is emerging, and people are experiencing strength unnoticed before. We are becoming the kind of people and the kind of world that the power and goodness of God has set out to make from the beginning of time.
              A disruption is underway – a disruption that is deeper and more profound than the economic and political narratives that receive nearly uninterrupted coverage in the news. The sheer magnitude of this crisis is forcing a personal and cultural “repentance” or reexamination of those things that have ultimate worth and value in our lives. A strong economy failed to protect us from the ravages of this unseen virus.  Political ideology is powerless to turn back the pain, suffering, and death left in its path. Misplaced priorities and values are exposed as having insufficient value for adding richness and depth to life. What remains are the questions as old as the scriptures – questions of purpose and meaning and love.
              First responders have brought fresh clarity to the values of compassion, cooperation, and confidence in an unseen power and strength to change lives and communities. New Yorkers, and other municipalities, celebrate these values each day by stepping onto balconies and the street to applaud the new heroes among us as they struggle to save lives impacted by this virus. This crisis presents an opportunity to build a different life moving forward, a life where we immerse ourselves more deeply into the lives of our spouses and children, a life where we seek opportunities to help vulnerable people in need of support and love, a life that is less about placing self first and more about caring for our neighbor.
              A pastor of another generation, Phillips Brooks, wrote that we should not pray for easy times. Rather, pray for strength, courage, and grace enough to meet hard times and come off victorious. If we long for a return to the normal that was prior to this virus we are already defeated. The apostle Paul would urge, rather, that we keep our eyes fixed upon the living God who is at work in the midst of this pandemic, working for our good. This pandemic is not a good thing by any measure. Nor is it the work or will of God. But scripture bears witness that God was always present in the very center of crisis, working to bring God’s people through stronger, more confident, and with a new appreciation for what really matters in life.
Joy,

Categories
Religious

How Shall We Rebuild?

The following meditation was written by Doug Hood’s son,
Nathanael Hood, MA, New York University
“Isn’t this the fast I choose – releasing wicked restraints, untying the ropes of a yoke, 
setting free the mistreated, and breaking every yoke?  
Isn’t it sharing your bread with the hungry and bringing the homeless poor into your house, 
covering the naked when you see them, and not hiding from your own family?”
(Isaiah 58:6,7 Common English Bible)
Their bonds broken and shackles shattered, the ancient Judeans returned from their Babylonian captivity to find Jerusalem a wasted ruin.  The city of the Davidic kings, Solomon’s Temple, and the Ark of the Covenant, the refugees found this former center of Jewish religious, political, and social life a shell of its former self, destroyed, depopulated, profaned.  The Holiest of the Holies violated, the treasuries looted, the buildings smashed, life could never go back to normal for the Jewish people.  And indeed the exile permanently changed the face of their religion.  Once a faith that acknowledged the existence of other gods, this new Judaism was doggedly monotheistic.  Once a people ruled by kings, now they were led by scribes, sages, and priests.  And where once the thought of a religion without a central temple was unthinkable, now they praised a God who faithfully followed his children throughout the world.  As prominent Israeli scholar Yehezkel Kaufmann once wrote: “With the exile, the religion of Israel comes to an end and Judaism begins.”
The fifty-eighth chapter of Isaiah offers us a glimpse into the metamorphosis of post-exilic Judaism.  While the entire book is traditionally attributed to the 8th-century BCE prophet, the last ten chapters are now believed by scholars to be a collection of anonymous oracles recorded three hundred years later during the reconstruction of Jerusalem.  The portrait they paint is not always comforting.  Much like the Pharisees of Jesus’ time who competed to see who could pray the loudest in public, this chapter depicts the wealthy ostentatiously mourning and praying for restoration while ignoring the poor and needy among them.  Specifically, the wealthy are shown to brag about their extravagant ritualistic fasting where they starve themselves in sackcloth and ashes.  To which the oracles respond with a simple and direct how dare you?  Isn’t the fast that God demands the salvation of the helpless among them?  The literal feeding of the hungry, the literal housing of the homeless, the literal clothing of the naked?  The God of this new Judaism cared not for their theatrics.  Instead, this new god who was God demanded concrete, literal solutions to economic and social injustice among his children.  Only then could Jerusalem truly be rebuilt.
Almost two and half thousand years have passed since the time of Isaiah, and the world finds itself again in a time of devastating crisis.  As the Coronavirus pandemic forces the international community into a global quarantine, it feels like things will never be the same again.  The wealth and prosperity we assumed would protect us have proved worthless as even the richest countries with the best medical resources have been devastated.  The stories we hear in the news are horrific: farmers forced to let food rot in their fields; doctors and nurses forced to care for the diseased without Personal Protective Equipment (PPE); millions – including this writer – being forced into unemployment with no lasting economic safety net.  We hear of the homeless in Las Vegas being made to sleep in parking spaces in parking lots so they won’t infect each other.  We hear of the government wasting millions on Blue Angels flyovers to honor the very healthcare workers they refuse to properly fund.  And we hear of people like Leilani Jordan, a 27-year-old grocery store clerk in Maryland who died after being forced to work without gloves or hand sanitizer.  When her family received their daughter’s last paycheck – literal blood money – they found that they’d lost their little girl for only $20.64.
Much like the post-exile Judeans, we find ourselves on the threshold of total societal transformation.  Things won’t go back to normal because things can’t go back to normal.  Too many systems have been proven ineffective, too many laws have been proven useless, too many people have been proven expendable.  Not only can’t things go back to normal, things shouldn’t go back to normal.  Not, at least, if we want to honor God, the God who demanded the end of useless fasting and the implementation of social and economic reforms in the fifty-eighth chapter of Isaiah.  How do we rebuild after the quarantine ends?  By working to ensure there are no homeless to stuff into parking lots, by fighting to properly equip healthcare professionals and first responders, by tearing down the systems of old to make sure nobody dies for a $20.64 paycheck ever again.
Joy,

Categories
Religious

The Continuing Work of the Resurrection

“May the God of peace, who brought back the great shepherd of the sheep, our Lord Jesus, 
from the dead by the blood of the eternal covenant, 
equip you with every good thing to do his will, 
by developing in us what pleases him through Jesus Christ. 
To him be the glory forever and always. Amen.”
Hebrews 13:20, 21 (Common English Bible)

            The first Christians never preached the resurrection simply as a once and done miracle, as Jesus’ defeat of death and his return to his disciples. They always proclaimed the resurrection as the work of a living God that continues to work in the lives of women and men in each generation. The same creative energy that raised Jesus from the tomb remains available for each of us, not only to raise us to new life following our death, but grants us a divine purpose to pursue and equips us with talent and strength to accomplish it. As the author of Hebrews states, God is continually “developing in us what pleases him through Jesus Christ.” We are God’s continuing work of the resurrection.
            What this announces is that there is no present darkness that can extinguish the light of the resurrection, no despair that isn’t answered with sudden hope. The celebration of Easter is more expansive that the remembrance of new breath filling the nostrils of Jesus one morning two thousand years ago. The celebration of Easter is claiming God’s active presence today that calls to us, equips us, and sends us into a broken world to complete God’s redemptive purposes. Once estranged from God by our rebellious nature, God wrestles with us until we once again embody and reflect God’s perfect love and makes us apprentices with God redeeming and restoring all of creation.
            Frederic Henry is the protagonist in Ernest Hemingway’s novel, A Farewell to Arms. An American ambulance driver in Italy in 1915, Frederic wrestles with belief and doubt in a living, active God. During one poignant conversation with a Roman Catholic priest, Frederic questions what it means to love – to love God or anyone. The answer sparkles on the page, “When you love you wish to do things for. You wish to sacrifice for. You wish to serve.”[i] Easter is an invitation to look closely again at God’s love for us – demonstrated on the cross of Jesus – that we might return that love with a “wish to do things for, to sacrifice for, to serve.” Our own immediate resurrection is from the death of selfishness to a life of selflessness and generosity.
            These are tumultuous days. Covid-19 haunts each of us as we tremble in our quarantine spaces. We fear that the power of darkness may ultimately defeat our dreams. Doubt paralyzes and frantically we seek hope from any quarter. However, Easter reminds us that God has already faced evil at its worst, met its challenge, and destroyed its claim on us. Life never again has to be lived in helplessness, maimed, impoverished, and defeated. That is why the author of Hebrews is able to say, with a sturdy conviction, “To him be the glory forever and always. Amen.”

Joy,

[i]Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms(London: The Folio Society, 2015), 68.