Karl Barth once said something along the lines of, “ the
preacher should hold the Bible in one hand and the newspaper in the
other.” Well, I’ve been reading the
newspaper (or the app), and I’ve been watching tv, and, yes, I’ve even broken
my own self imposed rule and peeked at Facebook. And while I could certainly bring forward
lots of different headlines this morning, I do believe that each of these
headlines has affected us in different ways.
So I’d like
to do something a little different today.
I want to
invite you to close your eyes, and think about this past week. Think about what it has been for you. The headlines are many, from Charlottesville,
to the first day of school, to house explosion, to Barcelona, to Steve Bannon,
to refugees, to bank accounts.
What’s your
headline?
Our
theologian today is Walter Brueggemann.
As you may have noticed, or read, Brueggemann is one of those
theologians who is actually still alive.
He’s not a dead white guy. No, he
in fact, is still just as active in speaking engagements around the country and
the world as he ever was, maybe even more so since his recent retirement from
Columbia Theological Seminary in Decatur, Georgia. Brueggemann is easily recognized as the
world’s foremost Old Testament Scholar.
This guy literally wrote the
book, the textbook, about the Old Testament.
He has written well over 100 books, countless essays and articles, and
has spoken in churches of almost every denomination (and non-denomination). And – he’s from Nebraska.
Really. He’s from Tilden, Nebraska, in Madison
County. At his core, he’s just like you
and me. A farmer at heart, connected to
the land and the earth and seasons. I
actually met Brueggeman when I was in seminary, as he came to give a series of
lectures that eventually became his book, Ichabod Toward Home. One of my several jobs while I was in
seminary was to drive the seminary van to the airport to pick up dignitaries
and guests of the seminary. When I drew Brueggeman’s
name, I jumped internally with joy. For
those of us at Princeton, he was, among other things, known for being the
brother-in-law to our Old Testament scholar, Patrick Miller; and – they,
together, were known for being as close as brothers. They loved God, loved their families, loved
the Bible, and loved the World Wrestling Federation. Not only did I get to have a conversation
with Brueggemann, I was invited into the Millers house for coffee and cookies
when I brought their guest to them. For
the better part of an hour, I forgot my studies and listened to these two
brilliant men talk about life, God, and…wrestling.
And here’s
what I learned…
That the
great question for Walter Brueggmann is this:
does the Bible have anything to say to God’s people today?
At the
time, it was a largely theoretical question.
It was February of 2001, and I lived in a snowy, idyllic world of an Ivy
League town.
But – I
doubt the conversation would have come to any different conclusion had it
happened just 7 months later, after September 11, when that same town and
community was covered with smoke and ash.
Yes, yes it
does.
In fact,
the argument went, when we study the Bible during times of uncertainty, trauma,
and injustice, that we discover just how relevant it is.
Barth again
– the Bible in one hand, newspaper in the other.
Back to
those headlines, and how they make us feel.
It was
Wednesday before I really got around to researching what happened in
Charlottesville. I’ve been busy. With the Big Event All-nighter, family
celebrations, the beginning of school, the house explosion, and various other
daily tasks and worries, I just didn’t get around to it. (That’s horrible to admit, but it’s the
truth). When I did, I entered an
abyss. Not necessarily because of
Charlottesville. But because of all of
it. All of it together. And I did.
I cried. I sat in my office and I
cried. I cried because I am grateful for
you, to be in this place, to be able to send my children to one of the finest
school systems in the country, to be able to open our hearts to refugees, to be
able to worship freely. I cried because
I am a woman, and therefore a minority.
I have experienced prejudice, not being considered or hired for a job,
or having been paid less, or treated differently. I cried because I am white, educated, and
privileged. And even while I feel I have
worked hard for these things, I also know that I have benefited from a system
that has allowed me to benefit from these systems. I cried because…
Jesus wept.
It’s okay to cry.
It is in
these moments that the realization that the world is a broken and unjust place
breaks into the every day reality and business of our lives. Most of the time, most of us fall into what
Brueggemann calls the “royal consciousness,” and defines as “achievable
satiation.” Or, when you have the power
to be able to arrange your life in such a way that you believe you have the
power and control to arrange your life.
Contentment. Satiation. Freedom.
For us, it means nice houses with meaningful work, money in the bank,
and food in our stomachs. Cars that
start every time, and good grades. When
we love our lifestyle more than we love the giver of life, that is the royal
consciousness.
It’s not
sustainable. That kind of satiated
life. It will come to an end.
It is then,
when we are able to accept the reality of the ending that we are pushed to
imagine a new beginning, or what Brueggemann calls an “alternative consciousness.” A new picture. A new vision.
A new reality.
First we
must say good-bye to the old reality.
And mourn its loss.
For the
slaves in Egypt, it meant 40 years of wandering in the desert to understand
that gathering manna daily was better than working in the Pharoah’s
storehouses.
For King
Solomon, it meant acknowledging that the ornate extravagance of the temple
actually distanced God from God’s nation.
For the
prophet Jeremiah, it meant “articulating the grief” the King worked so hard to
deny – the hunger of the people, the lawlessness of the people, the indentured
servitude of the Babylonian King – by breaking pottery and enduring physical
suffering.
When
endings and death become our reality, we weep.
“Tears are a way of solidarity in pain when no other form of solidarity
remains.”
“I used to
think it curious that when having to quote scripture on demand someone would
inevitably say, “Jesus wept.” But now I
understand,” Brueggemann says. “Jesus
knew what we numb ones must always learn again:
(a) that weeping must be real because endings are real and (b) that
weeping permits newness.”
The reality
of death will always break in. Just as
it did when Lazarus died, and Jesus cried.
The reality of death, of endings, will break in. And when it does, we weep.
The task of
the prophet is to address the ending of the royal consciousness even while
drawing attention to the vision of the new life offered to us. He calls it an alternative consciousness, an
awareness that there is something more, a longing inside of us that cannot be
filled by anything other than God.
Resurrection
hope. That’s what he says we need.
And I feel
it.
I feel the
despair and hopelessness of the women at the tomb, and the two on the road to
Emmaus. The confusion about the ending
they’ve just witnessed and the grief they still experience. They are in the midst of it. “The wrenching of Friday had left only the
despair of Saturday and there was no reason to expect Sunday after that Friday. There is not any way to explain the
resurrection out of the previously existing reality. The resurrection can only be received and
affirmed and celebrated as the new action of God whose province it is to create
new futures for people and to let them be amazed in the midst of despair.”
Friends,
our God is a God who is speaking this truth to us, even today, now, at this
moment. In the words of the prophet
Isaiah:
“Do not remember the former things,
or consider the
things of old.
I am about to do a new thing;
now it springs
forth, do you not perceive it?”
This is the new reality for us, as Christians. It is how we deal with the headlines in the news. We look to Jesus Christ, and the new reality that God is creating an alternate way. It does not have to be like this. But we cannot continue living as though everything is okay. We must live as though the alternative reality of new life in Jesus Christ is already here. We must acknowledge the pain, sin, and injustice of the world. We must then be motivated, energized, to offer a picture of what that new life looks like. We must do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with our God.
