Thursday, December 19, 2013

The War on Christmas

Here's the sermon I gave on Dec. 15, 2013, on the so-called war on Christmas. There really is such a war, but it's not what you've probably been told it is.

The War on Christmas
Rev.  Tom Sorenson, Co-Pastor
December 15, 2013

Scripture:  Luke 2:8-14; Luke 1:46-55

Let us pray:  May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all of our hearts be acceptable in your sight O God, our strength and our redeemer.  Amen.

We’ve all heard about it.  There’s a war on Christmas.  Didn’t you know?  Christmas is under siege!  Christmas is being assaulted.  Christmas is in danger of falling to its secular enemies!  It’s awful!  People tell us to say Happy Holidays rather than Merry Christmas!  People write Xmas rather than Christmas so they don’t have to say the word Christ!  The forces of secular liberalism don’t want America to celebrate Christmas.  They don’t want us to celebrate Christmas because they hate Jesus and they hate Christians.  The forces of Christ must rally to defend the celebration of his birth.  If we don’t, our ancient and sacred faith is doomed.  There’s a war on Christmas.  To arms, everyone!
Have you heard that kind of nonsense spewed by people who believe it, or who at least want you to believe it?  I have, and it is all utter and complete garbage.  Those two aspects of it that we hear condemned all the time, Happy Holidays and Xmas, are actually quite proper.  Happy Holidays simply recognizes that we are a multi-religious society as well as being one in which a great many people aren’t religious at all.  How would you feel if everyone went around wishing you Happy Hanukah or Happy Ramadan when you aren’t Jewish or Muslim?  Well, that’s how Jews and Muslims feel when people wish them Merry Christmas.  And Xmas?  That’s in fact quite Christian.  The X in Xmas is actually the Greek letter chi, and Christians have used chi, the first letter of the Greek word Christos from which our word Christ comes, to designate Christ virtually from the beginning of the faith.  So those false prophets on Fox News and elsewhere who proclaim that Happy Holidays and Xmas constitute a war on Christmas are just flat wrong.
They’re wrong that those things constitute a war on Christmas, but here’s the thing.  As Marcus Borg has recently said in a blog post of his, there actually is a war on Christmas going on.  It’s not a war on superficial things like Happy Holidays and Xmas, it’s a war on what Christmas really means.  It is a war on who Jesus was and is.  Now, I’m not much taken with the war language here.  I use it only because it has become so common among us; but it is nonetheless true that there are at least two things going on among us today that change and even tear down what Christmas actually should mean to us.  One of them has to do with our society and our secular culture.  The other has to do with Christianity itself.  The first is the rampant secularization of Christmas.  The other is what Christianity has done to Jesus.  Let me explain.
We all know about the way that Christmas has gotten secularized.  Christmas among us isn’t so much about celebrating the birth of Christ any more.  It’s mostly about giving gifts.  Now, there’s nothing wrong with giving gifts, or at least there isn’t if it is done in a spirit of love.  But gift giving has become an obsession, a mania even, among us.  People get trampled on “Black Friday” as others force their way ahead of them to get a bargain price on a flat screen TV or the latest toy rage.  Ads tells us, especially us men, over and over again that if we don’t give the woman in our lives a diamond or a $50,000 car we don’t really love her.  We buy our children and grandchildren so many toys that Christmas overwhelms them, and what should be an occasion of joy becomes an occasion for an exhausted tantrum.  And it all has nothing to do with the birth of Christ.  Yes, the magi give three symbolic gifts to Jesus in Matthew’s birth story, but giving gifts didn’t become part of the celebration of Christmas for well over one thousand years after Jesus’ birth.  Christmas has come to be a whole lot more about helping retailers end the year in the black than it is about celebrating the birth of Christ.  That, my friends, is a true abasement of Christmas.  Fox News won’t talk about it a lot because saying it doesn’t help their corporate sponsors and wealthy supporters, but it is a true secularization of Christmas that diverts us from the holiday’s true meaning.
The church has diverted us from the holiday’s true meaning too.  For me, this part of the real war on Christmas is more subtle, more hidden, and much more dangerous than is our society’s secularization of the holiday.  The church has waged a war on Christmas through who it has turned Jesus into.  We’ve all heard it.  Many of us grew up with it.  Why was Jesus born?  For the last seventeen hundred years the church has answered:  To die as an atoning sacrifice for our sins.  That’s it.  Just that.  The reason we celebrate Christmas, we’ve been told, is because at Christmas our Savior is born; and that means the one is born who will die so that we can get to heaven.  We’re told:  This man had to be born so he could die—for us.  Now, I think Jesus did die for us; but I don’t think it was as an atoning sacrifice for sin, and I don’t think dying was why he was born.  The church has changed Jesus into something he wasn’t, and isn’t; and that changes the meaning of Christmas for us.  So if we don’t celebrate the birth of Jesus because he’s going to die for us in a few months, at least a few months on the church’s calendar, why do we celebrate Christmas?  Who is this whose birth we’re celebrating?  You may have different answers to those questions.  Here are at least a good part of mine.
We celebrate the birth of Jesus because in and through him we know God.  Jesus came to give the world a new and different vision of who God is, of how God relates to us and to all of creation, and of what God wants from us.  He came to give us that new vision in how he lived his life, what he did, what he taught, and even—or perhaps especially—how he died.  Obviously there’s a whole lot more to say about why Jesus matters than I can say in one short sermon, but if I had to summarize what Jesus was all about I would say that he was about a call to transformation.  He called us to transform ourselves, and he called us to transform our world.  You might well think that the birth of someone whose significance lies in a call to transformation is not worth celebrating.  After all, transformation isn’t usually a lot of fun.  It isn’t easy.  It may involve gain, but it also almost certainly involves loss, at least for those of us who are relatively well off by the world’s standards.  Well, so be it.  Whether we like it or not, Jesus is all about calling us to transformation.
The transformation to which he calls us starts with us, with each individual person.  Violent revolutionaries in Jesus’ time wanted to transform the world through violence.  Jesus, the ultimate prophet of nonviolence, wanted us to transform the world by transforming ourselves.  He called us out of our selfishness.  He called us out of our self-centeredness.  I called us to give up our individual need to survive so that we could truly live out of ourselves for others and for God’s world just as he did.  The Christian tradition has waged war on that aspect of Jesus’ meaning for at least the last seventeen hundred years.  It has told us Jesus is about our own personal salvation.  It has told us that he’s not about transformation in this life, he’s about how we get to heaven in the next one.  Well, the truth is that in the Gospels Jesus says very little about getting to heaven in the next life, but he says a great deal about transformation in this life.  If Christmas is about the birth of a Savior who calls us to radical transformation in this life, and it is, then Christ’s own church has waged war on Christmas for a very, very long time.
But as I just said, Jesus was also about transformation of the world.  That’s what his talk of the Kingdom of God was all about.  The Kingdom of God isn’t a heaven up in the sky somewhere.  It is the world transformed to correspond to God’s will and ways.  It is a world transformed from greedy materialism to selfless sharing.  It is a world transformed from the ways of violence to the ways of peace.  It is a world transformed from injustice and oppression into a world where all are equal and all are free.  Jesus calls us to that transformation too, and that transformation starts with the transformation of our hearts.  Jesus wants to change the world one transformed person at a time, and he calls us to that work of transformation.  His church has waged war on that part of Jesus’ meaning too.  It has said don’t worry so much about poverty, hunger, illness, oppression, and injustice in this life; worry about how you get to heaven in the next.  That message betrays Jesus, and if Christmas is about the birth of the one who calls us to transformation, and it is, then that message is a war on Christmas being waged within Christ’s own church.

So in ten days we will celebrate Christ’s birth.  Let me suggest to you today that before we do we need to figure out why we’re doing it.  As Christians why we’re doing it isn’t, or at least shouldn’t be, about presents.  It isn’t about a big Christmas dinner that we enjoy while others go hungry.  It isn’t even about get-togethers with family, as good and meaningful as those can be.  It is about recognizing who this person whose birth we celebrate was and is.  It is about recognizing his meaning for us.  That meaning is salvation to be sure, but it is salvation through transformation.  Transformation of our selves, and through transformation of ourselves transformation of the world.  In ten days, will we recognize that that’s what we’re commemorating?  I hope so.  If we do then the real war on Christmas will have failed, and we can truly celebrate the birth of the one we call Lord and Savior.  May it be so.  Amen.

Sunday, November 17, 2013

Wars and Rumors of Wars

Many of us pastors feel called to prophesy on different subjects.  Many of my colleagues are passionate most of all about the issue of global warming.  I agree with them, but I feel called most of all to prophesy against violence and for God's way of nonviolence.  On Nov. 17, 2013, I gave a sermon on nonviolence, one of many I have preached.  It got a good reception from many in my congregation.  Here it is.


Wars and Rumors of Wars

Rev. Tom Sorenson, Co-Pastor

November 17, 2013

 

Scripture:  Luke 21:5-19

 

Let us pray:  May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all of our hearts be acceptable in your sight O God, our strength and our redeemer.  Amen.

 

The ad runs frequently on the television these days.  In the background Frank Sinatra is singing “I’m gonna live until I die.”  The scene is a computer generated Las Vegas, but this computer generated Las Vegas is a war zone.  It’s not clear who’s attacking whom.  Young men and women are doing combat with the invaders.  They’re blasting away with great glee at enemy manifestations.  At one point a young man asks a young woman “How you doin’?” in a way that is clearly a come on.  She pushes him aside, blasts an enemy flying machine of some sort, then says “Great.  Thanks for asking.”  The hero characters wreak as much destruction on Las Vegas as their enemies do.  They leap off of buildings.  Somehow they end up in outer space, although it isn’t at all clear in the ad how or why.  Then they’re in Jeeps of some sort roaring through a frozen landscape and blasting away at enemies with great joy on their faces.  And all the while Frank Sinatra sings “I’m gonna live until I die,” a swingy, upbeat song about living life to the fullest as long as we have life.  The message is clear:  Living life until you die is making sure all sorts of other people die before you do.  It’s an ad for a video game, and it is unspeakably violent. 

The journal Pediatrics recently published a report on research someone has done into violence and the movie rating system.  The conclusion of the study is that the movies rated PG-13 today contain more acts of violence than movies in the 1980s that were rated R.  The study says that gun violence in PG-13 movies has tripled since 1985, when the PG-13 rating was introduced.  Movies that used to be rated R for violence are rated PG-13 today.  The study says that watching violence doesn’t necessarily make people more violent, although frankly I doubt that conclusion.  There’s some reason why there have been over 28,000 gun deaths in this country since the Sandy Hook school shooting.  I’m sure all the violence in our entertainment hasn’t done anything to lower that number.

Last Monday on Veterans Day we once again saw and heard repeated, ubiquitous praise of the military and of everyone who does or ever has served in it.  I mean no disrespect to military people.  My father served in World War II, and I have a nephew serving in Afghanistan right now.  I respect our military people, I wish them only well, and I do not judge the decision they made to enter the military; but I am frankly disturbed by the way we have taken to calling all American military people heroes.  Everyone who wears an American military uniform or who ever did is now a hero.  I’m sure some of them are heroes in various ways, some through committing incredible acts of courage on behalf of others; but all of them?  Just because they’re in the military?  I don’t think so.  And because we call them all heroes, it’s harder for us to oppose the things our government sends them to do.

A few days before Veterans Day I turned on the pregame show for the Oregon-Georgetown men’s basketball game that was played at an Army base in South Korea.  The ESPN announcers began the show by saying that they thanked all the men and women in the military for “protecting our freedom” and “defending our democracy.”  I thought:  Really?  Is that what they’re doing?  Aren’t they really projecting American imperial power around the world in ways that have nothing to do with defending our freedom and protecting our democracy from actual threats, of which there are in truth rather few?  That’s sure how it seems to me.  But we’re told over and over again that they’re all heroes who are defending and protecting us.  Have we forgotten that the purpose of the military is to inflict destruction, injury, and death on other people?  Have we so romanticized the military that we’ve forgotten that awful truth?  I’m afraid we have.

My friends, we live in a culture that more and more romanticizes violence and glamorizes the military, whose reason for being is violence.  Violence has become the norm in our entertainment.  Violence has become the norm in our presence in the world.  Violence has become the norm of our national life.  Perhaps we don’t want to admit it, but violence is the American way.  To some extent it always has been, but it’s gotten worse.  Much worse.

We’re Americans of course, but here’s the thing.  We’re also Christians; and if our being Christians means anything at all, surely it means that we seek to live according to the will and ways of the God we know in and through Jesus Christ.  We never do it perfectly of course, and you don’t have to agree with me on what I think the divine will and ways are; but please consider.  The God we know in and through Jesus Christ is fundamentally, foundationally, radically nonviolent.  That God just is.  I’m not making that up.  If we read the Gospels with an open mind and without all the filters that established Christianity has put on us, we will see that nonviolence was Jesus’ way.  It was what Jesus taught.  It was what Jesus lived.  It was how Jesus died.  Yes, there is divine violence in the Bible.  But books like Revelation that contain so much divine violence simply contradict the life and the teachings of Jesus.  Jesus lived and taught nonviolence, and he did that because he knew that God is nonviolent.  He knew that God calls us to be nonviolent too.  That’s just how it is.  I’m really not making that up.

Our Gospel passage this morning is part of Luke’s version of what scholars call the little apocalypse of Mark.  Luke took and modified it from Chapter 13 of the Gospel of Mark.  This little apocalypse is difficult and problematic in many ways, but I think there is a message in it for us this morning.  In our version from Luke it says “When you hear of wars and insurrections….”  In Mark, which Luke has modified a bit, the line is “When you hear of wars and rumors of wars….”  Most of what Luke mentions as things that are to come—wars, insurrections, earthquakes, famines, plagues—sounds to me pretty much like life on earth as usual, not as something that didn’t exist but that is to come.  In any event, those things do describe our present reality pretty well.  Certainly we hear constantly of wars and rumors of wars, to use Mark’s phrase for it.  We have been at war in Afghanistan since 2002.  Within the last thirty years we have been at war in Iraq twice, once for many years with devastating consequences for that country that continue today.  We have used military force in Yugoslavia.  We have engaged in military operations in Somalia and elsewhere.  And rumors of wars?  Recently there were rumors of us going to war in Syria.  We hear rumors of war with Iran or at least of a lot of hawks calling for war with Iran.  Wars and rumors of wars are a normal part of our everyday existence.  We have even made them part of our entertainment.  We watch and digitally manipulate violence for fun.  Luke, and his source Mark, knew whereof they spoke.

So what are we to do?  Well, Luke gives us at least a partial answer to that question.  He says that all the travail that he says will come “will give you an opportunity to testify.”  In the midst of all of the turmoil and suffering of the world, in the midst of wars and rumors of war, we have an opportunity to testify.  As our culture becomes more and more violent, we have an opportunity to testify.  As we expose our children to more and more graphic violence on television, in movies, in video games, and in the news we have an opportunity to testify. 

Luke says we have an opportunity to testify.  I’d say we have a duty to testify.  That video game I talked about at the beginning of this sermon is called Call of Duty.  Well, I hear a call of duty too, only it isn’t a call to violence like that video game is.  It is a call to testify.  Testify yes, but to what?  To the way of nonviolence.  To our Lord of nonviolence.  To our God of nonviolence.  To the sinfulness of violence.  To the harm that all violence does to God’s beloved people (and all people are God’s beloved people).  We have a duty to testify to the harm violence does to God’s good creation.  To the way our human violence hurts, saddens, and even angers God.  To Jesus’ call to all people to a better way, to the way of peace, compassion, forgiveness, and care for all people. 

Friends, I am really disturbed these days by many things—global warming, the takeover of our political system by the richest one or two percent of our population, our refusal to provide health care to all, by the prevalence of homelessness and poverty among us, and many other things as well.  But most of all this morning I’m disturbed by my culture’s violence.  I’m disturbed by the way we glamorize and romanticize violence.  I’m disturbed by the way we see guns and violence as a solution to nearly every problem.  So this morning I testify.  I testify against violence and for Jesus Christ and for God and their way of nonviolence.  We live constantly with wars and rumors of wars.  It’s about time we stopped.  Amen.

Saturday, November 16, 2013

That's Not What They're Doing


That’s Not What They’re Doing!
Reflections on the Role of the American Military 

Not long ago I turned on ESPN and got the pregame for a college men’s basketball game between my Oregon Ducks and Georgetown that was to be played at an American Army base in South Korea.  The commentators began their show by thanking every American serving in uniform for “protecting our freedom.”  They called them all heroes for “defending our democracy.”  I mean no disrespect for our people in the military, but I just wanted to scream at the television:  That’s not what they’re doing!  It just flat isn’t.  These simple sportscasters were mouthing the myths of the American military.  We justify maintaining a military apparatus grossly out of proportion to any legitimate defense needs by saying that whatever our military forces are doing it amounts to protecting our freedom and defending our democracy; and it’s all a lie.  The myth we tell connects our people to the military and to the purposes for which our political leaders use it, but it’s all a lie.  That’s not what they’re doing.

Consider the facts.  Who, if anyone, is threatening our freedom and our democracy today, other than the Republican Party of course (and no, I am not advocating using the Army against the Republican Party).  No nation is threatening us through a traditional, organized military force.  Yes, the Russians have the capability of hitting us with long range atomic weapons, but they certainly have no intention of doing so.  Why would they?  They have absolutely nothing to gain from it and human civilization to lose.  We have land borders with only two nations, Canada and Mexico.  We hardly need to spend nearly as much on the military as the rest of the world combined like we do to defend ourselves from nonexistent threats from Canada and Mexico.  No nation on earth has the ability to invade us from the sea.  There simply is no conventional military threat to our existence, to our freedom, or our democracy.  There just isn’t.

There is a threat to our safety from terrorists.  There’s no point in denying that painful and tragic reality.  They, however, are hardly a threat to our existence.  If they are a threat to our freedom or our democracy it’s our own doing, not theirs.  We are so willing to compromise our freedoms and pervert our democracy in the name of fighting terrorism that the terrorists have had some success in that regard, and they remain a threat in that way.  Yet what we need to be defended against is less the terrorists themselves than it is our reaction to their threat.  We’re really good at reacting in ways that compromise our freedom and generate wave after wave of new terrorists hell bent on hurting us.  No one can contend that what our military forces are doing is defending us from ourselves, so this reality doesn’t make the claim that our military is defending our freedom and protecting our democracy true.

So clearly our conventional military forces are not defending our freedom and protecting our democracy, so what are they doing?  They are projecting American imperial power around the globe.  We do not have what, by worldly standards, would be a reasonable military force.  We have an imperial military.  We have military forces that function not to defend us but to impose our presence around the world.  They may be protecting some of our interests, or, more correctly, they may be defending some of the interests of the wealthy elite who really run this country.  We have substantial military forces in the Persian Gulf region to protect our oil supply for example.  Our forces may still be fighting Communism, never mind that Communism is dead.  That’s why we still have those forces in South Korea for my Oregon Ducks to play basketball in front of.  It’s not that our military forces don’t function.  It’s not that they don’t have a mission.  That function and that mission are not, however, to defend our freedom and protect our democracy.

So why do we say that those things are their mission?  Why do the American people buy the lie that that is their mission despite all of the undeniable evidence to the contrary?  Because people are gullible.  Because the ruling elites have a massive investment in keeping the American people on the side of the military.  Because we have to convince ourselves that spending those massive amounts of money on the military is somehow worth it.  Because, since thank God we don’t have a draft, the military needs to keep getting people to volunteer for military service.  Because those who volunteer and their families need to believe that they are doing something worthwhile.  There are lots of reasons why we believe that our military is defending our freedom and protecting our democracy.  Problem is, that that claim is true isn’t one of those reasons.  That’s simply not what they are doing.  We will never have a sound, healthy nation until we stop living the lies we tell about our military and start dealing realistically with the world as it actually is.

Friday, October 11, 2013

The Romans Didn't Invent Jesus

On the Claim That the Romans Invented Jesus

So now we face the latest pseudo-scholarly attempt to discredit Christianity.  It has happened before.  In 2007, for example, the Canadian pseudo-archaeologist Simcha Jacobivici, working with James Cameron of Titanic fame of all people, released a film titled “The Lost Tomb of Jesus.”  In that film Jacobivici claimed to have discovered an ossuary, that is, a bone box, that he claimed did, or at least might have, contained the bones of Jesus.  His evidence supported no such conclusion, and his moment of fame with his unsupported theory quickly passed.  Claims of historical discoveries that somehow contradict the foundational stories of the Christian faith aren’t all that uncommon. 
The latest is a claim by Joseph Atwill that the Flavians, the imperial dynasty that ruled Rome from 69 CE and 96 CE, invented Jesus Christ as a way to pacify the restless and rebellious Jews of the Roman Empire.  Atwill’s web site, caesarsmessiah.com/blog/about, tells of nothing in Atwill’s background that qualifies him as an historian of the origins of Christianity other than his interest in the subject and his supposedly having read “hundreds of books” on the subject.  If he is a scholar at all, he is an entirely self-made one.  That in itself says nothing about his theory.  You don’t have to be an academically trained scholar to discover new historical truths.  Still, Atwill’s lack of credentials is at least a cause for caution in accepting his conclusions.  A closer review of his claims shows that much more than caution is needed in approaching them.  I readily acknowledge that I have not read Atwill’s publications on the subject.  Still, some very good people I know are very upset by his claims, so I write this review based on media reports of his work only.  If someone who has read Atwill’s work can show that something here is wrong, I’m willing to listen; but I doubt that it will happen.
Atwill claims that Christianity began not as a religion but as a propaganda campaign by the Roman government.  He notes, correctly, that many of the Jews of the Roman Empire were waiting for the appearance of a Messiah, most commonly understood to be a king in the lineage of King David.  This royal Messiah, they thought, would come and defeat the Romans in battle, then usher in the Kingdom of God.  The Jews were indeed a constant bother to the Romans.  They rebelled against Rome repeatedly, most notably in 66 CE, when the rebels gained control of Jerusalem.  It took the Romans four years to defeat them.  In 70 CE the Romans retook the city, razed it, destroyed the Temple, and dispersed the occupants of the city.  Note that 66 CE is three years before the Flavians, who Atwill says invented Jesus, came to power and that they came to power one year before the destruction of Jerusalem.  The Jews rebelled again in 132 CE under the leadership of a man known as Bar Kochba.  The Romans certainly had reason to want to pacify the Jews.  They did it, however, not through propaganda tricks but in the usual Roman way, through the massive application of military force.
Atwill apparently contends that the Romans at some point exhausted their conventional means of controlling the populace.  I take him to mean that they concluded that their violence wasn’t working and that they needed another tactic.  I am aware of no evidence that Rome ever gave up violence as the primary means of controlling their empire, so I find the contention that they concluded that they had exhausted their traditional means against the Jews to be unfounded on its face.  They sure didn’t withhold violence in dealing with the Bar Kochba rebellion in the second century CE.  Still, Atwill contends that the Romans invented the story of what he sees as a peaceful Messiah to counter the Jewish belief in a coming violent Messiah.  One news report refers to Atwill’s belief that Jesus was a turn-the-other-cheek pacifist who encouraged people to give unto Caesar that which was Caesar’s, meaning that they should pay their taxes to Rome.  I’ll return to those contentions shortly.  They both mischaracterize Jesus quite badly.
Atwill bases his conclusions largely on what he sees as parallels between the accounts of the military campaign against the rebellion of 66 CE in a work called War of the Jews by the Jewish/Roman author Josephus and the story of Jesus in the New Testament.  Josephus is indeed a major source for the history of the Jews in the first century CE.  Scholars have used Josephus as a source for centuries.  War of the Jews was completed in 78 CE, so if the Flavians relied on it their work has to date from 78 CE or later.  The account I have of Atwill’s work doesn’t detail these parallels.  It is true, however, that scholars have long recognized patterns in the way the Gospels tell the story of Jesus that are almost certainly not historical.  One school of thought, for example, teaches that the Gospel of Mark, the oldest of the Gospels, is structured according to the liturgical year of Jewish religious observation.  My source on Atwill quotes him as saying “What seems to have eluded many scholars is that the sequence of events and locations of Jesus (sic) ministry are more or less the same as the sequence of events and locations of the military campaign of [Emperor] (sic) Titus Flavius as described by Josephus.”  Atwill concludes, according to this report, that “This is clear evidence of a deliberately constructed pattern.  The biography of Jesus is actually constructed, top to stern, on prior stories, but especially on the biography of a Roman Caesar.”
Acknowledging once more that I haven’t read Atwill’s work, let’s look at that contention.  The Roman army that conquered Jerusalem in 70 CE advanced on Jerusalem from the north.  The Greco-Roman city of Sepphoris in Galilee, a short distance from the tiny village of Nazareth, was one of their bases of operation.  As Mark tells the story, Jesus ministry began in the north, in and around Nazareth and on the western shore of the Sea of Galilee.  He then undertook a journey south to Jerusalem.  His movement was from north to south, as was the movement of the conquering Roman army in 70 CE.  Does that prove that Mark’s story of Jesus is based on the movement of the Roman army?  Hardly.  There simply is no other way to get from Galilee to Jerusalem than north to south.  Yes, the Gospel of Mark was written after the year 70 CE.  That hardly proves that it was based on Josephus’ account of the war of 70 CE.  Indeed, it is unlikely that Mark was written as late as 78 CE when The Jewish War was completed, a fact that in itself casts considerable doubt on Atwill’s theory.
That’s about as much as I know about Atwill’s contentions, but I think it is enough for me to make some more meaningful critiques of those contentions.  First of all, to believe Atwill we must disregard a couple of centuries of work by highly trained biblical scholars.  It is well established in the scholarly literature that the oldest Christian works that we have are the authentic letters of Paul, beginning with First Corinthians and ending chronologically with Romans.  There is a broad scholarly consensus that those letters date from the 50s of the first century CE into the early 60s of that century.  In other words, they all date from before the Jewish rebellion of 66 CE (although after some earlier rebellions, including one in 4 BCE), and they date well before the publication of The Jewish War.  If some later Roman wrote them he sure did an amazing job of convincing later scholars the letters are older than that Roman.  I don’t know if Atwill ever addresses these oldest Christian documents or if he only works with the Gospels.  If he ignores Paul’s authentic letters that is a major weakness of his scholarship.
Here’s another fact worth considering.  Probably the oldest and most authentic reference that we have to Christianity outside the New Testament is a statement by the Roman historian Tacitus.  Speaking of Nero’s decision to blame the Christians for the burning of Rome in 64 CE Tacitus said: 

Nero fastened the guilt…on a class hated for their abominations called Christians by the populace.  Christus, from whom the name had its origin, suffered the extreme penalty during the reign of Tiberius at the hands of …Pontius Pilatus, and a most mischievous superstition, thus checked for the moment, broke out again not only in Judaea, the first source of the evil, but even in Rome…..

This reference to the Christian movement having spread even to Rome itself refers to an event from 64 CE.  That’s two years before the outbreak of the Jewish rebellion of 66 CE.  It’s fourteen years before the publication of The Jewish Wars.  There’s no way the Flavians created that reference.  Clearly Christianity was a known movement in Rome well before Atwill says the Flavians invented it.
To move to another point:  To support his contention that the Roman government invented Christianity to counter the rebelliousness of the Jews Atwill presents a picture of Jesus as not only nonviolent but as passive.  He reads Jesus as having told people simply to accept Roman occupation and domination.  In adopting this view of Jesus Atwill is of course in good company.  That is the picture of Jesus the Christian church has propounded for a very long time.  It is, however, a rank distortion of the historical Jesus as we have him in those Gospels the Flavians supposedly made up.  In the report of Atwill that I have there is a reference to two sayings of Jesus from the Gospels.  The first is the one we usually know in its King James version:  “Render therefore unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s.”  The line is found in all three Synoptic Gospels.  See Mark 12:13-17; Matthew 22:17-21; and Luke 20:22-25.  I’ll look at the oldest of those references, the one from Mark.  The entire pericope reads:

Then they sent to him some Pharisees and some Herodians to trap him in what he said.  And they came and said to him, ‘Teacher, we know that you are sincere, and show deference to no one; for you do not regard people with partiality, but teach the way of God in accordance with truth.  Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor, or not?  Should we pay them, or should we should we not?’  But knowing their hypocrisy, he said to them, ‘Why are you putting me to the test?  Bring me a denarius [the common Roman coin of the day] and let me see it.’  And they brought one.  Then he said to them, ‘Whose head is this, and whose title?’  They answered, ‘The emperor’s.’  Jesus said to them, ‘Give to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.’  And they were utterly amazed at him.

There are several things about this story, some of them obvious and some of them perhaps hidden, that suggest that it is far from simple and that we are not to take it simply.  The Jewish leaders, both religious (the Pharisees) and political (the Herodians) come to “trap” Jesus in something he would say.  Jesus knows it’s a trap, for Mark tells us that he knew his interrogators’ “hypocrisy” and asks why they are putting him to the test.  Jesus knows that the question he is asked is far more dangerous than it probably appears to us to be.  He is caught between two very difficult realities.  Whether or not it was lawful to pay taxes to Rome was one of the hot issues in the Judaism of Jesus’ day.  It put faithful Jews in an impossible position.  If they didn’t pay Rome’s taxes they were breaking Roman law.  Rome was never loathe to apply force to get its taxes.  Refusing to pay was dangerous.  Yet many Jews believed that it violated the law of Moses, that is, the Jewish religious law, for people to pay the Roman taxes.  Rome was a pagan invader.  It’s coins, with which the tax had to be paid, were idolatrous, for they called the Emperor a son of God.  Not paying the tax violated Roman law.  Paying it violated Jewish law.  Jesus knew that if he gave a straightforward answer to the question he had been asked he would be in trouble either with the Romans or with the Jewish religious authorities, and at this point of his story he wasn’t ready to be in trouble with either of them.
So he essentially wiggles his way out of his predicament.  He shows that the Roman coin belongs to the Emperor.  The Emperor authorized it.  His image and title are on it.  So give it back to him, Jesus says.  The clear implication is that there is nothing idolatrous in using the Roman coin for that purpose despite the coin’s patent idolatry because what the coin says about the Emperor, that he is in some sense divine, is meaningless.  Jesus never condoned idolatry, and he wasn’t condoning it here.  He is saying the idolatry of the coin is nothing.  Caesar is not divine.  He may not know that, but we do; so go ahead and give him back his coin.  With that understanding you break neither Roman law and risk punishment nor Jewish law and risk committing sin.  That Jesus’ Jewish questioners understood his answer in this way is shown by what Mark says their response was:  “And they were utterly amazed at him.”  Why were they amazed?  Because they knew that his answer was a lot more complex than simply go ahead and pay the Romans their taxes.  They thought they had him trapped between the devil and the deep blue sea, and somehow he had gotten out of their trap.  So let’s not take Jesus’ statement here as simply complying with Roman demands.  It both does and it doesn’t.  It does externally:  Pay the tax.  It doesn’t internally:  Understand that Caesar is nothing.  Atwill reads Jesus’ saying here as advocating nothing but compliance with Rome.  He’s wrong.
Then there’s the notion that Atwill accepts that Jesus is a pacifist.  Apparently he relies on the famous line “turn the other cheek.”  Again he’s in good company.  The Christian church has taught a kind of worldly passivity using that line for a very long time.  Again however that teaching gets Jesus all wrong.  Jesus is nonviolent, but he isn’t passive.  Jesus actually taught active, assertive, creative resistance to evil, including evil coming from Rome.  The late, great theologian Walter Wink taught us that truth about Jesus in his exegesis of the passage from which the line “turn the other cheek” comes from.  I’ll give a brief recap of that exegesis here.
The line “turn the other cheek” comes from Matthew 5:38-44, part of the Sermon on the Mount.  Those lines read in relevant part:

‘You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’  But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer.  But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also; and if anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as well; and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile….

‘You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’  But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you. 

These lines surely sound like they’re counseling passivity, but they aren’t.  First of all, the Greek word translated here as “resist” doesn’t mean don’t resist at all.  It means do not resist with military force.  It means do not resist with violence.  Next, turn the other cheek isn’t passive either.  Jesus says “if anyone strikes you on the right cheek.”  The use of the right cheek here isn’t coincidental.  It is essential to the passage’s meaning.  In Jesus’s world no one used the left hand for anything.  It was considered unclean.  The image Jesus uses is of someone being struck on the right cheek by the assailant’s right hand, which means the blow had to be with the back of the hand.  Try it, without actually hitting anyone of course, if you need a demonstration.  Striking with the back of the hand wasn’t just a physical blow, it was a putdown.  It was how a master disciplined a servant or a slave.  The image is of one in a superior social position assaulting someone below him in social standing.  When the person who is struck turns the other, that is, the left, cheek, now the assailant has an impossible choice.  Either he can break off the attack, or he can acknowledge his victim as his social equal by striking him forehand.  The subordinate person who has been attacked has turned the tables on the assailant, and he or she has done it nonviolently.  There is similar exegesis of “give your cloak as well” and “go also the second mile” that show that these two are examples of an oppressed person creatively but nonviolently turning the tables on an oppressor.[1] 
Jesus says do not resist an evildoer violently, then he gives three examples of creative nonviolent resistance.  He doesn’t say don’t resist.  He never says don’t resist.  Atwill is echoing a great deal of Christian misunderstanding of Jesus, but that doesn’t make him right.  He’s wrong.  Any Jew in first century Palestine would have understood his meaning.  We don’t because we have lost the Greek original of the sayings along with the context in which they were originally said.  There really is no doubt that the Jesus movement in its origins was radically anti-imperial.  John Dominic Crossan and others have done great work in developing the anti-imperial nature of the teachings and lives of both Jesus and Paul.  If some Roman set out to invent a Messiah who wasn’t a threat to Rome he never would have invented the Jesus we have in the Gospels.
Then there’s the question of just which Jesus the Flavians are supposed to have invented.  The New Testament hardly gives us one, consistent picture of Jesus, especially of Jesus as the Christ.  Did the Flavians invent Paul’s crucified and risen Lord, even though Paul wrote before the Flavians ever ascended to power in Rome?  Did they invent Mark’s suffering Messiah?  Or Matthew’s new Moses?  Or Luke’s Good News for the poor?  Or John’s Word of God Incarnate?  Did they invent James’ emphasis on works or Paul’s emphasis on grace?  Did they invent the Letter to the Hebrews’ picture of Jesus as the great high priest who both is and performs the ultimate sacrifice for the forgiveness of human sin?  Did they write Paul’s “In Christ there is no longer male and female,” or did they write the misogynist passages of the Pastoral Epistles?  Did they write a story of Paul constantly arrested and in prison for his anti-imperial rhetoric or did they write the comply-with-the-government passage of Romans 13:1-7?  Did they write John’s Jesus saying God did not send God’s Son into the world to condemn the world, or did they write the profoundly anti-Roman book Revelation with which the New Testament ends and that so roundly and violently condemns the world?  The New Testament is so complex, so diverse, even so contradictory within itself that it is truly impossible to believe that one group of people made it all up.  That statement and that conclusion remain true even if we limit our analysis to the Gospels.
Now let’s shift to a deeper level of analysis.  Whatever the origins of the Christian faith were, indeed even in the seemingly impossible case that Atwill is right, one thing Atwill cannot deny is that the Christian movement spread broadly and rather rapidly through the Roman Empire.  Of course, it spread mostly through the Gentiles not through the Jews, who according to Atwill were the Flavians’ audience for their fabrication, but never mind.  Whatever the historical truth about Jesus is, the undeniable fact is that by the fourth century CE Christianity had become such a force in the Roman Empire that the Emperor Constantine had first to legalize it, then favor it.  Eventually it became the official state religion of the Empire.  More than that, Christianity survived the fall of Rome and went on to become the largest religious tradition in the history of the world.  Yes, that spread of the faith was due in part to the imperial policies of empires that came after Rome; but it is still true that Christianity functions as true faith in God for an enormous number of people, and it has functioned that way for a very long time. 
To use the language I developed in my book Liberating Christianity and that many others developed before me, Christianity has functioned as a system of true symbols and myths for more people than any other faith in the history of the world.  Whatever its origins, Christianity is true for me and countless other people because it functions to connect us to God.  It functions deep in our souls.  It’s stories and symbols touch us, move us, transform us.  Even if it were originally invented for a Roman political purpose as Atwill contends, which it wasn’t, the fact remains that people across the centuries have found their connection with God in it.  They have found salvation in it, however they have understood salvation.  All that remains true quite regardless of the truth or falsity of Atwill’s speculative conclusions.
And here’s the thing about symbols and myths, that is, about religious systems:  You can’t make them up.  Or I suppose you can.  People have; but what someone makes up doesn’t become a popular faith of any consequence unless it functions the way religious symbols and myths are supposed to function, namely, to connect people with God and God with people.  Christianity does that.  It does that because its symbols and stories touch us deep in our souls.  It has touched people deep in their souls from the very beginning.  It still does today.  I am convinced that Jesus of Nazareth was a real human being and that the movement that became Christianity goes all the way back to him and his first followers, but Christianity is true even if that belief isn’t.  I know that Christianity is true because I have felt its power in my life.  I have seen its power in the lives of other people.  Christianity is true, and Atwill can’t make it untrue.
As a matter of history Atwill’s thesis doesn’t hold up.  More importantly, as a matter of spiritual truth Atwill’s thesis doesn’t matter.  Atwill will prove to be another rather odd flash in the pan.  About that I have no doubt.  Our great faith has survived challenges much more serious than Atwill’s.  He may crusade against it.  He will have converts, people so fed up with the abuses to which Christianity has been subjected by its own adherents that they will accept his thesis not because it holds up to critical analysis but because they like its conclusions.  So be it.  He wrong.  He’s wrong on many levels.  So pay attention to him if you want.  Then move on.  He isn’t worth more than that.



[1] For a discussion of Wink’s exegesis see my Liberating Christianity:  Overcoming Obstacles to Faith in the New Millennium, Wipf and Stock, Eugene, Oregon, 2008, pp. 160-165.

Sunday, September 22, 2013

Resist the Evildoer

I got a request at church this morning that I make the sermon I gave available.  So here it is.

Resist the Evildoer
Rev. Tom Sorenson, Co-Pastor
September 22, 2013

Scripture:  Matthew 5:38-45; Matthew 26:47-52

Let us pray:  May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all of our hearts be acceptable in your sight O God, our strength and our redeemer.  Amen.

I told a couple of our members this past week that on Sunday we would do a service on peace because the previous Saturday, now yesterday, September 21, is International Day of Peace.  They laughed.  What?, they said.  Only one day for peace?  Good point.  Every should be a day of peace of course.  Still, International Day of Peace is a real thing.  The United Nations created it first in 1981.  In 2001 they fixed its date as September 21.  The UN calls for all nations and people “to commemorate the Day through education and public awareness on issues related to peace.”  This year September 21 was a Saturday, and we don’t usually gather on Saturday.  Next year September 21 will be a Sunday, but not this year.  So we’re doing September 21 on September 22.  Today we focus on peace.  In particular we focus on peace the way Jesus taught and lived peace.
The peace that Jesus taught and lived is, with regard to how we live in the world, the peace of nonviolence.  Those of you who have been around here for a while know that I preach nonviolence.  I know it’s a hard sell.  After all, we live in a nation formed through violence—the Revolutionary War, an imperial war of expansion against Mexico in 1848, the Civil War, an imperial war of expansion against Spain in 1898, military and other violent conquest of the West, including genocide against the Indian nations.  Our nation is indeed grounded in violence.  Our culture thinks violence solves problems, a fact that may well have something to do with our repeated gun tragedies like that shooting last week in the Washington, DC, Navy yard.  Our Christian tradition, or most of it, abandoned nonviolence seventeen hundred years ago when Christianity became the official state religion of the very violent Roman Empire.  I know that nonviolence is a hard sell.  Believe me, I know.  Some of you have even argued against it with me.
Nonviolence is a hard sell, but here’s the thing.  We are Christians, and Jesus Christ both taught and lived radical nonviolence.  I’m not making that up.  He just did.  Go read the Gospels again if your doubt it, and come to me with your questions.  There are a few passages that need some explanation to see that they don’t really advocate violence, but trust me, they don’t.  In the brief passage we just heard from Matthew’s story of Jesus’ arrest Jesus won’t even let his followers use violence to try to save him from arrest, torture, and execution.  Nonviolence was Jesus’ way, Reza Aslan’s wholly unconvincing argument to the contrary notwithstanding.  Nonviolence was, more than anything else, what distinguished the man Jesus of Nazareth from all of the other would-be messiahs of his day.  Jesus had a different vision from their dream of creating the kingdom of God through violence.  He had a better vision.  He knew God better than they did, so he taught and lived radical nonviolence.  He calls us to teach and live radical nonviolence too.
Nonviolence is a hard sell because our culture is a violent one.  Those of you of a certain age remember how we used to play cowboys and Indians, or cops and robbers, when we were kids.  Bang!  Bang!  You’re dead!, we’d shout.  Kill the bad guy.  Problem solved.  That was our play, and that is our culture.  That culture really doesn’t want to hear that Jesus and God are different from that.  The problem is, they are different from that.  Very different from that.  They just are.
Nonviolence is a hard sell among us because our history and our culture are violent, but there’s another reason nonviolence is a hard sell in America.  Nonviolence is a hard sell among us because people think that nonviolence means passivity in the face of evil.  And they’re right, aren’t they?  We just heard Jesus say “Do not resist an evildoer,” but turn the other cheek, give the cloak also, and go the second mile.  Passivity, right?  Acquiescence in the face of evil, right?  Just accept it and don’t resist it, right?  That’s sure what it sounds like.  Well, that may be what it sounds like, and some of you have heard me say this before; but those lines actually do not counsel passivity and non-resistance at all.  Relying on the late theologian Walter Wink, let me explain.
In most English translations we read “Do not resist an evildoer.”  It sounds pretty absolute.  The problem is, “resist” is a weak translation of the Greek word used in the original language of Matthew.  That word actually means something more like do not go out in ranks against, or do not resist with military force.  A much better translation would be do not resist an evildoer violently.  Jesus here isn’t saying do nothing.  He is saying do nothing violent.  Then he gives three examples of what he means:  When someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other cheek.  When someone sues you to take your coat, give your cloak also.  When someone makes you go one mile, go the second mile.  These examples sound like passivity to us, but that’s because we have lost the context in which Jesus originally gave them.  Someone strikes you on the right cheek?  In that world he would have done it with his right hand because the left hand was considered unclean and wasn’t used for much of anything.  To hit you on your right cheek with his right hand he’d have to do it backhand, and that was the way a master disciplined a servant or a slave.  So turn the other, that is, your left cheek.  Now if he wants to hit you again with his right hand he has to do it overhand.  That’s how equals fought.  You have said to your attacker you can either break off the attack or treat me as your equal.  I win either way.  Neat.  Give the cloak also?  Most people in Jesus’ world owned only two pieces of clothing, here called a coat and a cloak.  Someone takes your coat, or outer garment?  Give the cloak, or undergarment too.  That leaves you before your oppressor naked, and in that world your nudity would have shamed not you but the one who looked at you.  Neat.  Someone forces you to go one mile?  What in heaven’s name does that mean?  Who forces someone to go a mile?  Well, in that world a Roman soldier was authorized to force a civilian to carry the soldier’s gear for him for one mile.  One mile, not two.  If people saw him having someone carry his gear for two miles the soldier would be in a lot of trouble with his superiors.  By starting to go a second mile you have forced an armed soldier of the foreign occupier to beg you to stop, a humiliating position for the soldier to be sure.  Neat.  None of these examples are examples of passivity.  They are examples of creative, assertive, nonviolent resistance to oppression.  They are examples of creatively turning the tables on an attacker, a creditor, and an occupying soldier.  Jesus is saying resist, but do not resist violently.  Resist peaceably, creatively, assertively, effectively.
So what does that mean for us?  Let’s take our current situation with Syria as an example.  Let’s assume that the Assad regime in Syria did in fact commit an atrocious act, a crime against humanity, the killing of hundreds of innocent people with poison gas.  Our leader’s immediate reaction was:  Bomb them!  In other words, solve a problem by resorting to violence.  Never mind that our adding our violence to the horrible violence already being done in that divided, complex, and warring nation could do nothing but make matters worse.  See a problem?  Bomb it!  That’s the usual American response.  We always want to solve problems with violence.
But look what happened.  Russia—and we still so love to hate the Russians—stepped forward with a plan to have the Assad regime rid itself of chemical weapons.  Assad agreed.  Will he follow through?  We don’t know yet, but so far he has agreed.  The United Nations, representing all of the nations of the world, got involved.  Assad responded not to a threat of violence from someone he sees as his enemy, that is, from us.  He responded to an offer of aid from someone he sees as his friend, Russia.  He responded to the forceful but nonviolent response of the world community.  Our violence was never going to end his violence.  It just would have provoked more violence.  A nonviolent response by the world, and especially by Assad’s major international backer, seems to be ending his ability to inflict at least one kind of violence on his own people.
So why don’t we get it?  Nonviolence drove the British out of India.  Nonviolence brought down apartheid in South Africa.  Nonviolence produced the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965 in our own country.  Nonviolence brought down Communism in most of Eastern Europe.  Creative, assertive, nonviolent resistance to evil works.  More importantly, nonviolence is the moral choice.  Nonviolence is the way of God and of Jesus Christ, violence is the way of the world, especially of the empires of the world.  I’ve given some reasons here why nonviolence is such a hard sell; but honestly, I don’t get it.  It ought to be the easiest sell in the world, especially in a Christian community.  Jesus was nonviolent.  He was nonviolent because God is nonviolent.  Nonviolence is moral.  Nonviolence works.  Nonviolence is the way of peace.  Jesus’ word of nonviolence is today what it was two thousand years ago, a new word of a new way that the world desperately needs to hear.  If we don’t hear it, we may well destroy ourselves with our violence.

So let us resist the evildoer.  Jesus doesn’t tell us not to, but let’s always do it nonviolently.  Do it creatively, assertively, consistently.  But always nonviolently.  That’s what Jesus did.  That’s what he calls us to do.  May we have the wisdom and the courage to hear and to follow.  Amen.

Sunday, June 30, 2013

The Empire Within

This is the sermon I gave on June 30, 2013, on Luke's story of the demon named Legion and Jesus' approach to dealing with the issue of empire.

The Empire Within
Rev. Tom Sorenson, Co-Pastor
June 30, 2013

Scripture:  Luke8:26-33

Let us pray:  May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all of our hearts be acceptable in your sight O God, our strength and our redeemer.  Amen.

The people who lived in what we call Israel in the first century CE, during the time that Jesus lived there, had a lot of problems, poverty being one of the dominant ones.  They had, however, one major problem that dwarfed all the others.  They lived under foreign military occupation.  Several decades before Jesus was born Rome occupied Israel.  Rome was at that time the greatest empire with the most powerful military establishment that the world had ever seen.  Like all empires ruling foreign lands Rome ruled for the benefit of Rome, not for the benefit of the people of the occupied land.  Israel got some benefits from Roman occupation I suppose.  The first century CE was a time of relative peace and of economic prosperity for the wealthy, albeit hardly for most of the people.  Yet the Jewish people, or at least most of them, hated Rome.  Rome exploited the land and the people economically, imposing harsh taxes that drove most of the people deeper into poverty.  Worst of all, the Romans were Gentiles.  They worshipped false gods.  They even worshipped their emperor, a mere human being.  For the Jews of the time it was an abomination for the followers of the one true God to be ruled and oppressed by infidels.  The Jews hated the Romans.  They wanted the Romans gone.  They rebelled violently against Rome several times, always with dire consequences when the Romans crushed the rebellion.  Liberation from Roman occupation was the great dream and hope of nearly all of the Jewish people.
Many of those Jewish people expressed that dream and that hope by talking about someone called the Messiah.  The Messiah was one who was to come and deliver Israel.  There were different understandings of the Messiah in circulation in Jesus’ time, but one of the major ones saw the Messiah as a new King David.  In this understanding he would raise an army and drive the Romans into the sea.  He would then reestablish the Davidic Kingdom, a long lost kingdom that the Jews had come to see as a golden age from the past and a model for liberation in the future.
Now, the Christian tradition has called Jesus the Messiah—or the Christ, the two words mean the same thing—from the very beginning.  That claim was a really hard sell to first century Jews.  It was a really hard sell because Jesus didn’t look, act, or talk anything like the Messiah so many of them were hoping for.  They wanted a Messiah who would make war on Rome and drive the Romans into the sea.  Jesus, of course, didn’t do that.  He didn’t try to do it.  He had no intention of ever doing it.  He just wasn’t that kind of Messiah. 
He wasn’t that kind of Messiah; but however one approached it Rome was Israel’s biggest problem, and any Messiah of whatever type had to deal with Rome and the Roman oppression of the Jewish people.  Any Messiah of whatever type had to give the people a way of dealing with Rome and the problems it created for them.  That, I believe, is what our story of Jesus and the exorcism of the demon named Legion is all about.  In that story we see how Jesus understood the problem of Rome and how to deal with it.
In that story a man is powerfully possessed by a demon.  The demon renders the man what we would call mentally ill.  The man couldn’t control himself.  Other people couldn’t control him either.  So Jesus comes along and exorcizes the demon out of the man.  Jesus asks the demon its name.  The demon says “Legion,” and Luke tells us that the demon’s name was Legion because many demons had entered the possessed man.  The demons get Jesus’ permission to enter a nearby herd of swine, who immediately rush into the Sea of Galilee and drown, taking the demons with them.
And you may be asking:  What does that story have to do with Rome?  The answer to that very legitimate question lies in the name of the demon, in “Legion.”  What does Legion mean?  That word has entered our language as a common word that means “a great many.”  Luke suggests that meaning of the word when he says that the demon’s name is Legion because many demons had entered the possessed man.  OK.  That explanation of the name Legion is fine as far as it goes.  The problem is that it doesn’t go far enough.  In the first century CE the word legion didn’t just mean many.  It had a related but quite specific other meaning.  Back then everyone who heard the story Luke tells would have known that a legion was a unit of the Roman army.  It was a major unit of the army, sort of like our army division, although not quite as big.  A legion consisted of three to six thousand infantry troops and one to two hundred cavalry troops.  To Jesus and his audience a legion represented the military might of the foreign power that occupied their land and oppressed them and their people.  Legion meant Roman power and Rome’s military occupation and tyrannical rule.
So in our story the name Legion represents the Roman empire.  It represents the ways of empire.  More broadly it represents the ways of the world.  Legion stands for the world’s dominant power, and it therefore stands for the world’s ways of violence and oppression.  It stands for all of the ways of the world.  It represents considering worldly power and success to be the highest values.  It represents seeing other people as objects rather than persons, objects for us to use, exploit, and abuse as we will to achieve our own selfish purposes.  It represents all of the ways in which the world stands for values contrary to the will of God.
In our story Legion isn’t literally a division of Roman soldiers.  It isn’t an external image at all.  It is an internal one.  In the story Legion isn’t the Roman military encampment outside the city, it is Rome internalized.  In this story demonic possession by Legion represents all of the things that Legion stands for taken inside and made part of a man’s life.  In this story the worldly values that Rome represents control the man who has taken them in.  He doesn’t control them, they control him.  The possessed man’s problem isn’t so much that the Roman Empire occupies his home country as it is that the Roman Empire occupies his soul.  His problem isn’t that Rome is out there.  His problem is that Rome is in here, within himself, controlling him not from the outside but from the inside.
In this story Jesus launches not a military assault on an external Rome but a spiritual assault on an internal one.  He doesn’t drive the external Roman army into the sea.  Metaphorically speaking, he drives the internal Roman army into the sea.  He doesn’t physically attack Rome’s soldiers.  Rather, he exorcizes the Roman legion that the possessed man has internalized.  He drives that Legion into the sea.  Jesus frees the man not from external occupation by Rome but from internal possession by Rome.  Jesus deals here not with imperial possession from outside but with imperial possession from inside.
In this story Jesus shows us where our adversary really lives.  Empire, and more generally the ways and values of the world, are a problem for us not because they exist outside of us.  They are a problem for us because they exist inside us.  They are a problem because we internalize them.  Our problem isn’t that the world’s ways are what they are.  Our problem is that we take the ways of the world into our hearts.  Our problem isn’t the ways of the world per se.  It is the way we have internalized the values and methods of the world and made them our own.  This story says that the world wins not so much through brute military power as it does by capturing our minds, hearts, and souls and by bending us until the world’s ways become our ways.
The story of Jesus’ exorcism of the demon named Legion calls us to look first of all not outward into the world to find evil.  It calls us to look inward, into ourselves, into our minds and our hearts.  Have the ways of the world that contradict and deny God’s ways taken possession of us the way Legion took possession of the man in our story?  Do we support the world’s ways of violence when we think we benefit from them?  Do we dehumanize any of God’s people, seeing them as objects rather than as beloved children of God?  Do we strive for worldly success measured in money and power rather than for the wisdom and peace that come from pursuing the life of the spirit? 

Let’s be honest.  We’ve all internalized at least some of the ways of the world.  It really isn’t possible to grow up in the world and not internalize an awful lot of it.  The world of Rome possessed the man in our story.  The world today possesses us.  Jesus exorcized Rome and its world from the man in the story.  We don’t have Jesus physically present with us to exorcize our world from us.  So this story calls us to do the work of exorcism ourselves.  Jesus calls us to look deep into ourselves.  What do we see there?  The ways of the world or the ways of God?  Jesus calls us to the immensely difficult work of replacing the world in our souls with God in our souls.  For Jesus, for God, we don’t transform the world through force and violence.  We transform the world by starting with ourselves.  When we transform our hearts, when we exorcize the world’s violent and unjust ways from our souls, we transform the world.  When enough people have, with the help of God, transformed themselves, the world will be transformed.  That’s why Jesus exorcized an internalized demon named Legion and didn’t raise an army to attack Rome.  He calls us to do the same.  Amen.

Together In the Spirit

This is the sermon I gave at my wife/co-pastor's installation service on June 22, 2013.

Together in the Spirit
Rev. Tom Sorenson, Co-Pastor
June 22, 2013

Scripture:  Romans 12:1-13; 1 Corinthians 12:1, 4-11

Let us pray:  May the words of my mouth and the meditations of all of our hearts be acceptable in your sight O God, our strength and our redeemer.  Amen.

So here I am preaching at the installation service for my co-pastor Jane.  It’s weird enough preaching at the installation of your co-pastor.  I suspect it is more common in these cases, or maybe I’d just be more comfortable, to have someone else preach a word to both of the new co-pastors. Yes, preaching at the installation of your co-pastor is a bit weird, but when that co-pastor is also your wife it gets really bizarre.  I am indeed Jane’s co-pastor here in Monroe, but much more importantly she’s my wife; and preaching specifically to your wife is just wrong, maybe especially when she’s a preacher too.  It got even worse the other day, however.  Jane suggested that I preach on 1 Corinthians 7:16a.  That half verse reads “Wife, for all you know, you might save your husband.”  Let’s just say I wasn’t much taken with that suggestion.  I suggested in response that I preach on the non-Pauline insertion into that same letter at 1 Corinthians 14:33b-34a:  “As in all the churches of the saints, women should be silent in the churches.”  Needless to say Jane didn’t like that suggestion any more than I liked hers.  Probably less.  It’s her installation, so I really had no choice.  I’m not preaching on that verse.  But then neither am I preaching on hers.
So what can I do here this afternoon?  I don’t feel right preaching specifically to my wife, even if she is my co-pastor.  Rev. Steve Hanning, my former pastor and recently the interim pastor at our church in Everett, told me once that he has known four clergy couples who did co-ministry together.  In two of those cases it worked really well.  In the other two—the couple got divorced.  I don’t want to say anything here that might increase the chances of Jane and me ending up in that latter category of divorced former co-pastors, so I won’t presume to preach specifically to Jane.  Instead I want to say a word to our people here in the Monroe church.  The rest of you, our honored guests here this afternoon, are of course welcome to listen too.
Today we formalize and celebrate your decision to call Jane as co-pastor, together with me, of your church.  Last August we changed our pastoral staffing by adding Jane as co-pastor, but back then adding Jane was only an experiment.  We all wanted to see how having Jane as co-pastor with me would work.  We needed to see, among other things, if you were able and willing to pay the added expense of adding another pastor to the staff, even at a very modest compensation level.  That experiment was set to end at the end of May, but on Pentecost you voted to make the co-pastor arrangement with Jane and me permanent—as permanent, that is, as a church’s pastoral arrangements ever are. 
I’ve got to be frank with you.  That decision, as much as I appreciate it—and I really do—makes absolutely no sense.  That’s what the so-called experts would say.  They’d say we’re not really big enough for even one full time pastor.  We’re nowhere near big enough for a staff of more than one full time pastor.  Any consultant we might have hired to evaluate the co-pastor proposal for us would have said you’re nuts to do it—in much more professional language of course.  We wouldn’t be very happy paying for just “you’re nuts.”  Yet somehow, by the grace of God and your good will, we’ve had a full-time pastor since 2003; and since last August we’ve had more than that.  You have supported the new pastoral arrangement with your prayers, your work, and your money; and Jane and I thank you for that support with all our hearts.  You have shown what a small church that once was stagnant if not quite near closing can do with the dedication, hard work, and contributions of committed members.
And now we come to a celebration of a new phase in our life together.  You have called Jane to join me as pastor because you know her, you love her, you see her manifold gifts for ministry.  You see what she can bring to our church, and that is a very good thing.  Today we get to celebrate your decision, and we also need to recognize what that decision means for the future of our church.  The new co-pastor arrangement that you have created presents us with both great opportunities and great challenges.  With Jane as co-pastor we have the opportunity to expand the ministry of our church beyond what I have been able to do as sole pastor.  We have pastoral support for parts of the church’s ministry that, frankly, I didn’t spend as much time on before as I might have—outreach and Christian education of children and young people being good examples.  We have an expanded availability of pastoral care.  Some of you relate to Jane better than you do to me.  Others of you relate better to me than you do to Jane.  That is natural and expected, and now you all have a better chance of having a pastor you are comfortable talking to.  Jane brings new ideas to the church.  She brings new energy.  Her pastoral experience is very different from mine; so she sees things differently than I do, and her insights have been and will be of great value to us.  Jane’s presence with us opens great new opportunities before us.
It also, however, presents us with challenges.  Jane and I are still working out just how we share the pastoral responsibilities around here, and how we do that will continue to evolve in the times ahead of us.  So far our being co-pastors has in no way threatened our marriage, and Jane and I will make sure that it never does.  One of your challenges is to understand that for Jane and me our marriage comes first.  If our pastoring together ever even remotely threatens our marriage, we’ll choose our marriage over co-pastoring.  Some of the time Jane and I have together sounds a lot like a pastoral staff meeting.  So far that’s OK.  We will make sure that it continues to be OK.
Yet the greater challenge that we face is understanding just where this church is heading.  Where is the Holy Spirit calling us?  We believe that the Holy Spirit has called Jane to ordained pastoral ministry here at Monroe Congregational UCC at this time.  We must presume that the Spirit has some purpose in calling Jane as one of your pastors today.  What is that purpose?  Is it to work Jane into the life of this congregation as essentially my successor as your pastor?  Perhaps.  She is thirteen years younger than I am, and I have been your pastor for over eleven years.  I’m 66 years old, and I won’t keep working forever.  Jane as my successor isn’t set in stone, but it’s something to keep in mind.  Is it because Jane will have new ideas for new types of ministry we can do in this community?  Perhaps.  I hope so.  We’ve come a long way in the last eleven years.  Is the Spirit calling Jane to lead us in building on the work we’ve done together in that time, to take us to new places reaching new people?  Perhaps.  I hope so. 
Discerning the Holy Spirit’s purpose in calling Jane as your co-pastor is an important challenge, but in our Scripture readings this afternoon St. Paul reminds us of another important truth about our church.  In both of those passages Paul speaks of how Christians have many gifts, all given by the one Spirit.  He doesn’t talk much there about the gifts of a community’s leaders.  He talks about the gifts of the people.  It is the gifts of the people, not just the gifts of the leaders, that make a church a faithful community of Christ’s disciples.  We don’t all have the same gifts, he says.  Just as a body needs different appendages and organs to function as a body, so a church needs the many different gifts to function well as a church.  You have two pastors.  That’s an extra pastor for a church this size.  One of your most important challenges is to remember that having an extra pastor doesn’t free you from the call to bring your gifts to the life of the church.  You don’t get to sit back and say Tom and Jane can do it.  We can’t.  We can help, and we will; but we can’t do much of anything without you.  You are the church.  Jane and I are part of the church too, but only a part of it.  Jane has many gifts for ministry.  I like to think that I have some too, but you are the church.  Your gifts are the ones that matter most.  Together we can do many good things.  Alone Jane and I can really do nothing.
So today, as we celebrate the installation of Jane as co-pastor, I ask you to consider not what Jane and I can do for you but what you can do for yourselves and each other as this little church of Jesus Christ.  Do you love children?  Volunteer in the nursery or the Sunday school rooms.  Do you care about the poor and the homeless?  Volunteer with Brown Bag Brigade, or Take the Next Step, or the food banks in Monroe and Sultan.  Can you sing, or do you like to sing but aren’t sure how good you are at it?  Come to choir practice on Wednesdays at 6:30.  Do you have a strong speaking voice?  Volunteer to serve as lay leader for our Sunday worship.  Are you a teacher?  Offer a class at church on something you have a passion for, either for children, or for adults, or for both.  Are there things you’d like to see us doing?  Do you have a vision for what our church could be but you don’t know how to make it happen?  Share your ideas and your vision.  Share them with Jane, with me, and with all the people of the church.  Maybe together we can make them real. 

The examples of gifts and how to use them could go on and on.  The Spirit has indeed given us many gifts.  Today we celebrate Jane, and it is right and good that we do.  We face many challenges together, not the least of them financial.  But we have overcome harder challenges in the past.  Those challenges became opportunities for faithful ministry.  The challenges we face today can be opportunities too.  If together we pray hard and rely on God’s grace, we can do great things.  With Jane’s new leadership, and with my old leadership, let’s get on with it.  Amen.