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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.

Categories
Religious

When God Seems Distant

The following meditation is from Doug Hood\’s book,
Nurture Faith: Five Minute Meditations to Strengthen Your Walk with Christ,

“I’m convinced that nothing can separate us from God’s love in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
Romans 8:38a (Common English Bible)
Tommy Lasorda, former manager of the Los Angeles Dodgers, tells about an experience he had in church. One Sunday he was in Cincinnati for a ball game against the Reds. That morning he went to early morning Mass and happened to see the Red’s manger there. They were old friends and sat beside each other during Mass. Afterward, the Red’s manager said, “Tommy, I’ll see you at the ballpark. I’m going to hang around a little.” Lasorda said that when he reached the door, he glanced back over his shoulder. He noticed that his friend was praying at the altar and lighting a candle. He said, “I thought about that for a few moments. Then, since we needed a win very badly, I doubled back and blew out his candle.”i Though misguided, what a powerful demonstration of faith in God’s presence and activity!
Countless people today long for that deep confidence in God’s presence and activity in their lives. God seems distant to them. They plod through each day, fearful, anxious, and burdened with uncertainty. Some may remember once having a close relationship with God but that was a long time ago. Prayers seem to never rise higher than the ceiling – and that is when we even feel like praying! The good news is that this is not an uncommon experience in the Christian faith. Just as people can grow apart in relationships with one another, so we can drift away from God. As Thomas Tewell once said to me, the difference is that in human relationships, both parties contribute to the distance. But, in a relationship with God, the reality is that we drift away from God. God never drifts away from us.
In those moments when God seems distant, what are we to do? Perhaps an experience I had this past week will help. My daughter, Rachael, is in Norway – a studio photographer for the Holland America Cruise Lines. It’s not uncommon for Rachael to work twelve and fourteen hour days. Wi-Fi is limited and with her long hours it is difficult to “connect” with her by telephone or by other means in real time. Just this week, Rachael reached-out to me via Facebook Messenger. She said that for a limited time she was available to receive a phone call from me and that she really would like me to call. Immediately, I moved something that was already on my calendar to another time and placed the call. Do you see what happened? Suddenly, my greatest desire was to speak with my daughter. To do so, I had to make the time.
We reconnect with God the same way. We move beyond our desire to be close with God and carve-out time from our busy lives to simply be still in God’s presence. We open the Bible and read expectantly, asking God to speak powerfully through the words that we read on the page. We learn from our reading more about God, about God’s good desires for us, and we learn what God requires of us. We spend time together with God. And we listen; we listen deeply in the silence following our reading to the hunches, the promptings, and the direction we sense from God. As we respond positively, the distance we once felt from God begins to close. 

Joy,  
____________________
i William R. Bouknight, The Authoritative Word: Preaching Truth In A Skeptical Age. (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2001) 30.

Categories
Religious

Little Giovanni

The following meditation was written by Doug Hood\’s son,
Nathanael Hood, MA, New York University
\”There is neither Jew nor Greek: there is neither slave nor free;
nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.\”
Galatians 3:28 (Common English Bible)
Giovanni di Pietro di Bernardone was born into a life of splendor, ease, and refinement.  The son of a rich silk merchant and a French noblewoman, little Giovanni had an easy and lavish a life one could want in twelfth century Italy.  While peasants toiled in the fields for their daily bread, Giovanni feasted with the best of high society; while workers suffered and died in poverty, he threw away money on fine clothes and fast living.  When his town declared war on a nearby neighbor, he joined up as a night, thirsty for glory.  The result was catastrophic – his unit was butchered and he was captured and imprisoned for a year while his captors negotiated his ransom.  But was Giovanni phased?  Hardly.  After he was freed the call for knights went out for the Fourth Crusade, and one again he found himself riding off to battle, this time with a new horse and a suit of armor decorated with gold.
But Giovanni never made it to the Holy Land.  In fact, he scarcely made it further than a day\’s ride from his home.  That first night he had a strange dream in which God commanded him to return home.  From that day forward an odd transformation began in Giovanni\’s life.  He began to pray regularly and intensely.  He came to cherish the presence of the poor, sick, and ugly, rejecting the companionship of the rich, healthy, and beautiful.  Finally, he was caught by his father taking fabric from his hope to sell for money to help repair a nearby church.  Accusing him of theft, he dragged Giovanni in front of the local bishop to publicly shame him and force him to return the money.  It was the decisive moment in Giovanni\’s life – he must choose between the church of his savior or the world of his father\’s finances.
His choice has been remembered throughout the history of Christendom: he stripped naked before his father and renounced the world.  That was the day Giovanni the wealthy troubadour became Francis the impoverished preacher, and within a few decades young Francis from Assisi would become one of the most significant leaders in church history, being canonized as Saint Francis a mere two years after his death.  Few people have shaped the world quite like Saint Francis; he reinvigorated the largest religion in the world has ever known with a renewed call towards charity and social justice for the poor and disenfranchised.  And, crucially, it all began with a deliberate abnegation of his wealth, his power, and his privilege.  To aid the poor, it wasn\’t enough to donate time or money – he needed to become like them and live like them.
This passage from the third chapter of Galatians is one of the most beloved theological statements in the New Testament.  But beyond its promise of equality for all people in God\’s Kingdom is subtler implication that many choose to ignore: in the leveling of all peoples before the Almighty the powerful must abandon their power.  What good are riches of the ancient Greeks when they share a kingdom with impoverished Jews?  What good is the political power of slaveholders when they live side by side in  eternity with the people they held as slaves?  And what good are the privileges of patriarchy in a promised land where women are equal?  If we are to live as living witnesses of the Gospel, we must help realize these truths in the world right now, and for many of us that requires an honest evaluation of the power and wealth we have in life.  And perhaps some of us might do well to do as young Giovanni did all those centuries ago.
Joy,
Categories
Religious

Christ\’s Own Denial

“Jesus replied, ‘My kingdom doesn’t originate from this world. If it did, my guards would fight so that I wouldn’t have been arrested by the Jewish leaders. My kingdom isn’t from here.’”
John 18:36 (Common English Bible)

              This is a remarkable passage of scripture! Captured here is Jesus’ own denial; Jesus’ denial of sovereign territory, “My kingdom isn’t from here.” From inside the governor’s house, a center of power for a defined territory, Jesus disclaims royal territory. Certainly, Jesus’ denial is on the geographical level, his royal authority lies elsewhere. This confuses Pilate. For Pilate – and for us – sovereignty implies a specific place, such as the British Empire. That empire has clearly defined borders, though the contours have changed over history. Christ denies any claim to this kind of power or rule. Incredibly, Christ seems to be placing his credibility on the line.
              Many are well familiar with Peter’s denial. On the night of Jesus’ arrest, Peter denies three times ever knowing the man, Jesus. Yet, that same night, Jesus is also making a denial. The difference between Peter’s denial and Jesus’ own denial is not subtle. Peter’s denial is about self-preservation; Peter fears arrest if he is honest about his relationship with Jesus. Jesus’ denial is something much deeper than self-preservation. Jesus is pointing from the physical world to the spiritual. The exchange between Pilate and Jesus becomes a struggle between political power and spiritual power. Political power exerts its influence on people’s outward behavior. Spiritual power changes people from the inside.
              One Easter morning a couple spoke to me following the first service. They said they had lived only a few blocks from the church for years and had never worshipped with us before that morning. They continued by sharing that though they had not worshipped before they were always grateful that the church was here. Politely and carefully, I asked, “Why?” “Why were they grateful that the church was here?” Their answer, “Each day the church reminds us that there is something more.” They promised to return and then proceeded to walk down the street – presumably to their home. Spiritual power is about something more than the eye can see, “My kingdom isn’t from here.”
              Jesus’ denial is all about lifting our eyes above political alliances, carefully defined and defended borders, and self-preservation. Jesus wants, “something more” for each of us. Political power bends a people to the will of the state. Spiritual power molds and shapes a people to the wholeness God once fashioned at creation, but lost through rebellion and estrangement from God. Jesus confrontation with our political systems, in the form of Pilate, suggests that his kingship not only challenges the political state, it judges and calls into question the ability of the state to provide the life God desires for us. It would appear in the crucifixion of Jesus that Pilate won, that the political systems of the day have the upper hand. Nevertheless, the resurrection remains only a few days away.
Joy,

Categories
Religious

200 Robes

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

“Let the message of Christ dwell among you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom through psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit, singing to God with gratitude in your hearts.” Colossians 3:16, New International Version (NIV)
One night after playing a show at the Silver Dollar Lounge in Frederick, Maryland, a white man came up to black blues musician Daryl Davis and complimented his playing. Such compliments weren’t unusual for Davis—the man had led an industrious and illustrious career playing alongside some of the greatest blues artists of all time. (You don’t play backup for Chuck Berry, Muddy Waters, and B.B. King without developing some serious chops.) However, it was the white man’s next compliment that caught him completely off-guard. Shaking Davis’ hand, the man said: “You know this is the first time I ever heard a black man play piano like Jerry Lee Lewis.” Taken somewhat aback, Davis asked him where he thought Lewis had learned to play piano like that in the first place. The white man smiled and answered that Lewis had invented the style himself. Davis—who had actually known and played with Lewis—knew quite differently: he, along with the other white pioneers of rock music like Elvis Presley, had learned their playing from blues, rockabilly, and boogie-woogie. You know, Davis said, black music. 
Their conversation continued on into the night, Davis politely yet firmly correcting the white man’s faulty musical knowledge. Abruptly, the man paused and said: “You know, this is the first time I ever sat down and had a drink with a black man?” For the second time that night, Davis was caught off-guard. How could that conceivably be possible? When he asked him why, the man responded: “I’m a member of the Ku Klux Klan.” Davis’ response wasn’t to scream or run away, but to laugh. This was Maryland, for crying out loud, not the Deep South in the 1950s. But the man pulled out his wallet and drew out his Klan membership card, proving without a doubt that this oblivious lover of black music was indeed a faithful member of the Invisible Empire. Davis stopped laughing. But before he could react, the Klansman told him that he wanted him to call his number whenever he was in town so he could hear him play. And that gave Davis an idea.
What happened next is the stuff of legend, something so improbable, so seemingly contrived that it defies belief: Davis started going out of his way to befriend Klansmen. He’d find and strike up dialogues with them, interrogating their White Supremacist beliefs. How could you hate me, he’d frequently ask, when you know nothing about me? More often than not Davis learned that their hatred came from misconceptions about black people planted during their youth. But by forcing them to confront a black man who went against every prejudice they’d been brainwashed into believing, their racism crumbled. His methods were startlingly effective. Davis didn’t just befriend numerous Klansmen, he single-handedly convinced over 200 of them to leave the Klan, including Roger Kelly, the Imperial Wizard for the State of Maryland. Davis became such good friends with Kelly that not only did he leave the Klan, he asked Davis to be his daughter’s godfather. His former KKK robe now hangs in Davis’ closet alongside the 200 other robes of all the former Klansmen he’s saved.
Davis has been explicit about the role his Christian faith has played in his decision to engage Klansmen on a human level, and indeed his life is a living testament to the highest aspirations of the church and the teachings of Jesus. But make no mistake, he converted nobody by simply loving them enough. His road was a difficult and sometimes dangerous one that took him not only into the heart of institutionalized racism but Christian hypocrisy. Despite their abhorrent teachings, the Klan has always fancied itself a Christian organization (as long as said Christians weren’t Catholic). So it’s almost certain that some of the 200 Klansmen Davis befriended thought of themselves as good and faithful Christians who saw no contradictions between their racism and the Gospel. Here is where we must remember the words of the Apostle Paul in Colossians that Christians must teach and admonish each other. Note those words: “teach and admonish” not “love and ignore.” Sometimes our brothers and sisters in Christ need to be called out and corrected when their lives are in direct, violent contradiction with the Gospel. But notice the rest of the verse; we must do it by including them in our lives, in our churches, in our worship, not by rejecting and excluding them. We must teach and admonish like an old blues artist telling a Klansmen that, no, Jerry Lee Lewis didn’t invent black music. But also like Davis, we must teach and admonish through love.

Joy,