sarah masen
The Dark Corner
Hazarding the Infinite
Watching the news, talking about it (especially with students), praying, reading, listening, and talking some more has me thinking about what people mean (what I mean) when we refer to Christianity. For the last few years, I've been reading like a madman about the early church, the "historical" Jesus, the Hebrew prophets, and whatever I can get my hands on that might give some clue as to what it might mean (what it might look like) to stand within the movement (once termed "the Way") as a citizen of the land called America in these very odd times. The last one has had me studying other cultures in an effort to cultivate an awareness (an identity) more radically catholic which is to say more universal and more caught up and entrenched within the tribe-transcending, utterly international Body of Christ.
Jesus was born into a tribe which, from long before his birth and long after his death, existed in a state of "freedom under attack". He was a second-class citizen. In the jargon of "good vs. evil" he'd have had no trouble recognizing the "evil" ones, namely Rome and its puppet governments which, in his case, took the form of Herod and his cronies. He was born under a death sentence. He would have seen and heard of numerous insurrections performed on behalf of his people violently put down and often leading to numerous crucifixions. In an effort to create a familiar context for my students, I've suggested that Jesus lived in a situation similar to that of Mel Gibson's characters in both Braveheart and The Patriot. And the opportunities available to him were, in a similar way, limited.
It was in this context that Jesus announced his "good news" or, in more familiar terms, his "gospel." When Americans refer to the gospel, they might be speaking of the idea that, if you believe a certain list of true propositions, you'll go to heaven when you die. Or they might be suggesting that, if you accept Jesus as your "personal savior," you'll find it easier to overcome addiction, guilt won't be the problem that it used to be, and you're now the bearer of a secret password ("Jesus") which will keep you out of Hell. From the Left Behind point of view, the good news of the gospel can mean that when you give intellectual assent to the claim that Jesus is God, you become one of the people who'll disappear before the trouble starts. While all of these understandings of the gospel gain ground throughout America and the rest of the world, it's important to note that none of them would have made the slightest bit of sense to Jesus' hearers. They were under the foot of an oppressive regime, and Jesus' announcement meant, if it was deserving of the title of "good news," that things were about to turn around, that the kingdom (the rule) of God was at hand. They understood that he was inaugurating a movement which, for starters, was "good news for the poor." (Lk 4.18)
Did this mean that he was preparing to retaliate? It seems apparent that many of his followers thought so. Their way of life had been under attack as long as any of them could remember, and there were at least a few Zealots among them who, by definition, were set upon armed revolution. He had to rebuke them for misunderstanding his movement when they expressed their desire to call down fire upon the opposition. And as Peter listened to Jesus' repeated insistence that he would be arrested, tortured, and killed, he made it clear that he would gladly kill and be killed to prevent such a fate from befalling such an innocent as Jesus. Upon hearing this, Jesus didn't turn to Peter and, with a somber bow, declare "Praise and honor to you, great warrior, for offering to kill on my behalf." On the contrary, we have the devastating "Get behind me Satan," in which Jesus recognizes, in Peter's impulse, another manifestation of the Tempter in the wilderness.
The defining ethic of Jesus' movement was at least as difficult for his generation to accept as it is for ours: "Love your enemy," "Bless those who curse you," "Do good to those who hate you." The scandalous "ineffectiveness" of such commands would have been met with the same hostility they're met with today. And doubtless, many would have suggested that Jesus was failing to live up to what was required of any decent member of his tribe. But he was inaugurating a new understanding of effectiveness, a new definition of the good, a tribe to end all tribes, a new way to be human. And as his resurrection would attest, his way was the way everlasting, the path that would (will) endure.
This isn't a by-product of the gospel. Jesus' way IS the gospel, the good news for all nations, for every tribe, now and forever. And the Body of Christ is a new nation, a royal priesthood which embodies the more excellent way. When the church is the blind, uncritical endorser of whatever the nation decides to do, it has renounced its vocation as the Body of Christ. It is neither the salt of the earth nor a light to the nations. And it has traded its worship of the crucified Jew for a devastatingly tribal idolatry.
"Whoever says, 'I abide in him," ought to walk just as he walked."
(1st Jn 1.6)
To return to Jesus' historical context, it's difficult for Americans to sympathize. We're not in the position of a Jew in first century Palestine whose status is essentially that of a slave (Philippians 2.7). For a Muslim, struggling to survive under a tyrannical government sponsored by the US, we are undoubtedly Rome. And to suggest that such a characterization of our position is evil, hateful, or entirely out of hand is to refuse the saving, sanity-restoring practice of self-criticism. And it is clearly to fall short of the Christian practice of being quick to confess one's sins. How to best embody a life of discipleship in allegiance to Jesus the Jew, as a citizen of what is essentially Rome, has troubled my conscience for some time.
Recent events have certainly complicated the issue. We have perpetuated much violence outside of our borders, and it has now reached our doorstep. We have had forcibly thrust upon us the status of neighbor to lands for whom violence, at home, is nothing new. American religious leaders announce, "God is not shaken," as if God is only moved by violence on OUR shores, as if God has yet to be shaken by the 30,000 who die of malnutrition everyday. It's as if we've been living in a gigantic version of The Truman Show, and a force from the other side (with which we've, nevertheless, been in relationship) has broken through the set.
In the book of Jeremiah, we have an account of a maddening situation. Jeremiah is told that he was set apart in his mother's womb to declare God's words. He is also told that no one will listen to him and that he will be reviled. He is told to announce the destruction of Judah which is the result of their whoredom, the exchange of their glory for that which doesn't profit. Devastation will come, but he is also called to announce restoration, the forgiveness of sins, and hope for the hopeless. The book is a record of his struggle with a God who tells him to condemn his people, grieve for them, pray for them, plead with them, plead for them, and treasure them. When we note Jesus' similar vocation toward his own, a vision (a beginning anyway) starts to develop concerning what it might look like to embody (practice) the aforementioned movement within the world called America.
"As he is in the world, so are we." 1st Jn 4.17
Today (September 18th), our Secretary of Defense had this to say: "We have two choices, either to change the way we live, which is unacceptable, or change the way they live." It occurred to me that this isn't suggesting a radically new state of affairs. On Sunday morning, Vice-president Cheney remarked that he would like to have Osama Bin-laden's head on a platter. This is an adoption of some new language, but given our previous efforts to rid the world of Bin-laden, this is pretty much the stance we've had all along. When his interviewer mentions that Saddam Hussein has suggested that this is punishment for America's "crimes against humanity," I hold my breath in hope that Cheney will attempt tp explain why Hussein's words are a mischaracterization. Instead, Cheney calmly proclaims that we're going after him too. As President Bush equates the US with "freedom itself" and describes our stepped-up war on terrorism as "good versus evil," I wonder how many people around the world view America's trade and foreign policy as an ongoing attack on "freedom itself," and I recall one of Jesus' interlocutors referring to Jesus as "good" as well as Jesus' response: "Why do you call me 'good?' Only God is good."
I am profoundly thankful to be an American. I am also determined to differentiate between America's interests and those of the Kingdom of God. As an aspiring practitioner (and thankful beneficiary) of the latter movement, I pray for the well-being of my nation, for its healing, and for its ongoing conversion to the ways of shalom. Father in Heaven, show us how to represent your future.
Come Lord Jesus.
© 2001 David Dark
