The Unbreakable Covenant

I’ve been on vacation for the last few days. These days this means time at home to relax, to watch TV, to read, to be creative, and to think. I haven’t even been able to really enjoy the approach of spring because I am still healing from a stress fracture in my shin. So you might imagine that I’ve spent a lot more time than usual thinking. And what have I been thinking about? The words of the Prophet Jeremiah, among other things. My thoughts keep going to the unbreakable covenant that is promised. A covenant that will be written on the hearts of the people of God, on our hearts.

What, then, is written on our hearts today? I think Love is written on all of our hearts, I really do. However, it gets buried under pain, fear, anger, regret, grief, anxiety, and suffering. Love gets buried under spiritual scar tissue and is sometimes really hard to find. If it wasn’t there, the covenant Jeremiah promised would be broken, and we know that God doesn’t break promises, let alone covenants.

You see, I believe that Jesus is the fulfilment of the covenant that Jeremiah spoke of. If we take seriously the words of John 3:16, “God so loves the entirety of the Cosmos…” then we must ask ourselves what being a member of the Body of Christ has revealed in our hearts. Jesus was all about Love. His actions were about healing and literally re-membering (reconnecting) people to community. His words challenged the Empire and those in service to it. He was all about community, wholeness, and liberation. None of these things were to benefit the individual; everything Jesus said or did was to teach us how to Love – our neighbors as ourselves, as God Loves.

The depth of what is written on our hearts can only become clear, can only rise to the surface in relationship, in community. We need one another to heal, to removed the scar tissue, to allow Love to come to the fore. Church ought to be the place, the community, that fosters healing and wholeness. Never should the Body of Christ add to the scarring that obscures the Love that is in our spiritual DNA.

The pronouncement coming out of the Vatican this week is inconsistent with what is written on our hearts. Excluding LGBTQ+ folx from the fullness of community is hurtful. Saying that queer folx are welcome but saying that our sexual expression and our marriages are sin fractures rather than heals. It is not loving to accept only the surface level of a person’s identity. It’s like saying that brown-eyed people are welcome only if they wear dark glasses because their brown eyes are a sin. Besides, when it comes to the Body of Christ, if one of us is queer, the Body of Christ is queer and all the rules, judgment, and exclusion becomes self-loathing. Isn’t this the very opposite of the covenant made manifest in Christ?

When will we start holding up our end of the unbreakable covenant? It’s only unbreakable because God doesn’t let go of God’s end of it. God’s steadfast Love really does endure forever, no matter how deeply we bury it. Though why we bury it is another question.

There is enough in the world to add scar tissue, to obscure Love. Why do we add to it, especially as the Body of Christ? It’s time we ask ourselves what is written on our hearts, not on the surface but deep down where only God has a clear view. Living at the surface where all the scarring is only adds to more scarring.

We can do better than this. Healing. Liberation. Wholeness. Community. These things allow the Love that is written on our hearts to come to the surface. If we are not welcoming, forgiving, serving, loving then we are likely adding more scars.

Isn’t it time we live out our truth as the Body of Christ, make manifest the Love that it written deep within?

RCL – Year B – Fifth Sunday in Lent – March 21, 2021 Jeremiah 31:31-34  • Psalm 51:1-12 or Psalm 119:9-16  • Hebrews 5:5-10  • John 12:20-33

Photo: CC0image by edmondalfoto

Suicide Prevention: Embodying Love, Forgiveness, and Mercy

Image: square of sunlight shining through a dark tunnel

As I write, I am aware that September is National Suicide Prevention Month and September 10^th is World Suicide Prevention Day. It’s the prefect time to talk about God’s love, forgiveness, and mercy and how they save lives, or could if congregations could grasp hold of them in meaningful, transformative ways.

Let’s start with the story of the Israelites escaping Egypt. This is a familiar story. We know that God heard the people’s cry and sent Moses and Aaron to free them from Pharaoh’s oppressive rule, a Pharaoh who did not know Joseph. After a series of plagues, the Israelites follow Moses and cross the Red Sea. Pharaoh’s army is washed out. It’s a powerful story of God’s liberating love, without question. If we look closer, there are also some indications of how God continues to work in our lives.

The angel of God who was going before the Israelite army moved and went behind them; and the pillar of cloud moved from in front of them and took its place behind them.It came between the army of Egypt and the army of Israel. And so the cloud was there with the darkness, and it lit up the night; one did not come near the other all night.

Exodus 14:19-20

Notice that the angel, the cloud, moves from the position of leading out of oppression to the position of protector from the persuers. It’s the next verse that I find particularly compelling. The cloud was there with the darkness. In the midst of the fleeing, the fear, the chaos, the literal dark of night, the cloud was there and it provided light, safety, guidance, protection, and hope. It kept the dark from being all there was. What a powerful metaphor for the Body of Christ today. If we could be the presence that is there with the darkness, the despair, the hopelessness, the depression, the chaos, then we, as church, could be the beacon that keeps the gaping maw of total despair at bay. If we could be the embodiment of the liberating God who offers love, forgiveness, and mercy without judgement or condition, we could save lives. Imagine the church as the cloud, the messenger of God, that can lead out of oppression and protect from the oppressive forces. There would be hope for all, especially those who struggle with suicidality.

If this story is not sufficient for how the church could be a powerful witness while in the midst of all that is life-destroying in this world, there are others. Think of the story of Joseph. He was thrown into a pit by his brothers and sold into slavery. When he could have become embittered and held onto anger, he offered forgiveness to his brothers. He recognized that while his brothers had intended harm, God transformed Joseph situation into something good and lifesaving. We can learn much from this story.

We can see that we should not look down on those caught in the “pits” of today’s world. It’s not like they fell into the depths on their own. While their literal siblings might not have been the ones to discard them, they were definitely discarded. Also, we never know whom God will pick to do great things, even those who have been sold out by others who ought to know better.

And then there is the forgiveness piece. Joseph modeled how God forgives us – without condition. It was enough for Joseph that his brothers came with humility seeking his help. God requires even less than that. Of course, we cannot find God’s forgiveness and live it out if we do not go seeking it with humility. So, too, for our congregations. We need to approach God like Joseph’s brothers, acknowledging that we are responsible for the pits of society; if we didn’t help dig them, we’ve not done all that we could to fill them in. While we are seeking God’s forgiveness, we also need to be offering it much more freely. If God forgives without condition, the church should be like Joseph was with his brothers and be profligate with forgiveness.

Just imagine how a forgiving community could change the life of someone who lives with tremendous guilt and shame over things that they have done or things that have been done to them. A word of forgiveness, an act of merciful acceptance, can save lives when offered with sincerity. For the person who lives with symptoms of mental illness, especially suicidality, a reminder of God’s forgiveness embodied by a community has more power than most of us recognize.

Jesus was clear on the power and importance of giving and receiving forgiveness. You know, “forgive seventy-seven times” meaning as many times as necessary. If we believe that we are loved without condition, then we must work toward accepting God’s unconditional forgiveness. It’s imperative that we do this. There are people in this world who are desperate for hope, desperate for the presence of God to be with them, illuminating a way through the hopelessness, promising liberation and protection. People who experience suicidality are unlikely to encounter God’s presence because depression lies and blocks out everything except one’s own utter lack of worth. If we want to save lives, then we must embody Divine Love, demonstrating unconditional forgiveness, and offering continuous mercy.

No one is exempt from suicidal thoughts, especially now in this time of pandemic. While we work toward living into God’s vision of love, forgiveness, and mercy, let’s take time to equip ourselves to save lives. Learn the risks for suicide, the warning signs, and the resources in your community and denomination. Hopelessness, depression, anxiety, and suicide are all on the rise. When we embody God’s love without conditions, we save lives. When we talk about mental illness and suicidality in our churches, we save lives. This is the work that God has set before us in 2020 – to do all that we can to save lives. We have work to do. Yet, we do not go alone. There is a Light that shines with us all and nothing can extinguish it. It is our guide and our protector. May we all live lives of love, forgiveness, and mercy so that our churches may be lifesaving.

Image: Text HOME to 741741 for crisis support in the U.S.

Image: Suicide Prevention Lifeline 1-800-273-8255

For more about being a Lifesaving Church.

RCL – Year A – Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost – September 13, 2020
Exodus 14:19-31 with Psalm 114
or Exodus 15:1b-11, 20-21
Genesis 50:15-21 with Psalm 103:(1-7), 8-13
Romans 14:1-12
Matthew 18:21-35

Top Photo: CC0image by Rúben Gál

Life Choices

Choosing life is not simple, easy, or natural for most of us. Well, there is the drive to stay alive. However, that is not the same as choosing life. Moses was pretty clear that choosing life often means choosing the hard road, the way that is not self-focused. On the brink of entering into the Promised Land, Moses implores the people of God to choose life so that they and their children may continue to live in abundance.

These people who stood looking across the Jordan River into the land they had been promised are the wilderness wanderers, the calf worshipers, the complainers, and the whiners. The journey from captivity to freedom was longer and more difficult than they bargained for. They weren’t happy with Moses. They were tired of manna and quail. They had expected a shorter journey, one that was less taxing on their bodies and on their spirits. If Moses wasn’t around, they were pretty certain that God wasn’t around either. They survived the desert, surely life wasn’t a choice they had to make. They were alive and staring at the Promised Land. Life had already been granted them, hadn’t it?

That’s the funny thing with life. It’s easy to take it for granted. We are alive. We are breathing and moving through the world. What choice is there? Moses could have elaborated more than he did. Choose life that will enable your neighbor to live as you live. Choose life that will be gentle on the planet. Choose life that facilitates justice for all people. Choose life that always moves from captivity to liberation. Choose life that honors the Creator. Choose life in a way that blesses those around you. Choose life, not just as individuals, but also as sacred community.

There it is. Choosing life in response to God’s call isn’t about us as individual human beings. It is about us as sacred community, the Body of Christ, the church. Nearly every church I have ever been a part of has been primarily concerned with its own life. Are the pews full? Is the budget balanced? Are the programs attended? Is the Sunday School full? How about the youth program, are we ensuring the church of the future? These concerns that have absorbed so much of our churches’ attention, are not questions that support choosing life.

God has set before us the ways of life and death. The church is on the edges of something new, something exciting, something transformative. We are close enough to see that something different is coming, but not close enough to know precisely what it is. However, we can look around at our declining numbers and the building closures and know that life isn’t exactly what we have chosen. Perhaps it is time to make different choices.

Choose life so that we and those who will come after us might live in God’s love, honoring God’s commandments. Choose life so that we will stop being lured away by the false gods of individualism and independence. Choose life so that we will realize that our neighbors are our responsibility, that the way of Christ is the way from captivity to liberation.

First choose life for yourself in response to God’s unconditional love for you as an individual. Then choose life for the Body of Christ in response to God’s abundant love for the whole of Creation. No, it is not easy. Yes, we will continue to be tempted by lesser gods. No, it is not too late for us to change and embrace God’s call to the fullness of life. Yes, there are many who will think our efforts on behalf of life, love, and liberation are futile and foolish. Isn’t it time we stopped wandering in the wilderness and complaining about all that is not as we want it or expected it to be? By choosing life, we are choosing the Promised Land, a land where all are welcomed, wanted, seen, heard, and valued. Is there a better way to be the Body of Christ?

Choose life when considering the plight of refugees. Choose life when confronted with those who are homeless. Choose life when the government cuts funding for food subsidies, access to health care, or acts to promote only the white, cis, wealthy, able-bodied, educated, and male people. Choose life, interdependence and sacred community, in every moment and in every decision or the Promised Land, the Kingdom of God, will never come any closer. Generations yet to come deserve better than captivity and oppression, don’t they?

RCL – Year A – Sixth Sunday after Epiphany – February 16, 2020
Deuteronomy 30:15-20
Psalm 119:1-8
1 Corinthians 3:1-9
Matthew 5:21-37

Photo: CC0image by Pexels

Salt… Salt… and more Salt…

Jesus said, “You are the salt of the earth.” He wasn’t kidding or exaggerating or trying to make his disciples feel better. Salt that has been ruined and can’t be used any longer is only good for trampling under foot. I’m wondering if this isn’t exactly what has happened to the moderate to progressive branches of the church. Over the years, we have lost our saltiness. As we have rejected the doctrine and dogma of our more conservative siblings, we have failed to claim our saltiness. We have, in effect, allowed ourselves to be trampled nearly to death.

When I was fourteen, I stopped adding salt to foods. For decades I did not add salt to anything (except French fries). I didn’t cook with it or bake with it. The same blue canister of iodized salt sat on my pantry shelf for years. My reasons for not adding salt began with an eating disorder and an irrational fear that eating salt would make me gain weight. The behavior continued because I didn’t think about it; avoiding adding salt had become a habit. However, I had to change that habit a couple of years ago.

After a lifetime of health challenges I was diagnosed with POTS/Dysautonomia. I had to make several changes in my daily routine to help mitigate symptoms. One of the adjustments was a high sodium diet. All of a sudden I was adding salt to everything which unexpectedly made me crave more. Where once I had a lonely canister of unused salt in my cabinet, I now have several kinds of salt – flavors, textures, mixes – just so I can keep a higher level of sodium in my body. I never knew just how important salt could be.

Jesus knew the importance of salt. He knew it was needed for flavoring, for preserving, for healing. He knew how connected salt was to the Covenant God made with people of God. Salt was precious, necessary, and good. Everyone knew that. However, I’m betting the disciples were a bit surprised when Jesus told them they were salt. They weren’t to become salt. They didn’t have to cultivate or harvest anything to be the salt the world needed; they were salt. In that moment, they were salt. Wherever they went, they would be salt. Whatever they did, they would be salt. They were precious, necessary, and good. And they had work to do – enhancing the flavor of life with hope and grace, preserving relationships with forgiveness and mercy, and healing the broken and wounded places. Salt is vital for survival.

Now would be an excellent time to reclaim our saltiness. If ever there was a time when the world could use something life-giving and life-sustaining, it’s now. The Mainline church isn’t ordinary table salt and it shouldn’t be road salt either. Even though these things have their usefulness, if we’re going to be the salt of the earth in this present age, we need to pack in all the nutrients we can manage.

Let’s be pink Himalayan salt that surprises people with the minerals of advocacy and justice. Not all Christians are out there demanding an end to legal abortions. Not all Christians are out there crying for end LGBTQ+ rights. Not all Christians are out there upholding the racist criminal justice system.

Maybe you’d rather be applewood smoked sea salt. It has a punch that shows up unexpectedly, deepening the flavor of a dish. What if we showed up in those unexpected places asking for gun reform or healthcare reform or increasing minimum wage or fair housing? Would the conversation change with a compassionate Christian presence?

My personal favorite is salt infused with habanero peppers. It’s all about the saltiness and then comes the flavor-changing heat. This is a salt that can’t be ignored or overlooked. I’d like to be this kind of salt in the world. What if the church could bring this kind of power to it’s justice work? What if we could be all about life-changing presence? You know, feeding those who are hungry, liberating those who are oppressed, healing those who are sick… the kind of things that Jesus did. This would be some serious saltiness that would mitigate the flavor of hopelessness and despair that permeates the world.

It’s time we stop being afraid of the gifts we have been given. We have remained on the pantry shelf (or trampled underfoot) for far too long. What will happen if more of us publicly display the fact that we are the salt of the earth, we are the Body of Christ, we are the hope and healing of the world? What will happen if we trust what we have been given and follow Jesus? Maybe the world will start to crave more… Salt is precious, necessary, and good. Salt is vital for life. We are salt. The church is salt. Maybe we can live as if we believe this is true…

RCL – Year A – Fifth Sunday after Epiphany – February 9, 2020
Isaiah 58:1-9a, (9b-12)
Psalm 112:1-9 (10)
1 Corinthians 2:1-12, (13-16)
Matthew 5:13-20

Photo: CC0image by Susanne Jutzeler

Three Magi and the Baptist

All those proclamations bubbling with hope during Advent start to fizzle out by the time the magi arrive. And fall even flatter with John the Baptist’s cry for repentance. With the heightened anxiety created by the current Administration and its recent Tweets, the light of the star fades and the voice heard at Jesus’ baptism is little more than a whisper. Hope for 2018 to be a year of positive change is fragile, if not entirely elusive.

It’s hard to continuously call the people of God to embody Hope and Love when frustration and anger surge through me every time I look at the news of the world. Some days being pastoral in a community (city, country) nearly consumed with its own anxiety feels impossible. I have sympathy for the Baptist. The chaos and meanness of Herod’s rule pressed down on an already oppressed people. Too many were acting as if nothing was amiss, and too many more lived in a state of chronic hopelessness. Then, of course, there were those who supported Herod and benefited from his lavish, self-centered reign. None of this glorified God in anyway. Hence the call for repentance.

Years before, Herod’s selfishness was already made known. He was willing to have innocents slaughtered just to ensure that he remained in power. The magi recognized the tyrant for what he was, and went home by an alternate route to avoid revealing Jesus’ location to Herod. They, however, persisted in pursuing the star until they found the child for whom they had journeyed so far. They were rewarded for their efforts with an overwhelming joy. Imagine being so persistent in our search for the Holy One that we become overwhelmed with joy in spite of whatever the precarious political situation.

As if to remind us of that overwhelming joy, the voice of God echoing through Jesus’ baptism speaks a powerful truth. Jesus is God’s Beloved and we would do well listen up. We, too, are God’s Beloved and we are called to incarnate Love just as Jesus did. How did Jesus respond to Herod and the Temple Authorities, with an outrageous, truth-telling love. Mostly, Jesus didn’t deal with them. He focused his attention on empowering people, building community, and modeling the way of compassion. He tried so hard to get people to see that the Kingdom of God is built with love, not the romantic, feel-good kind of love. That kind of love won’t bring liberation to the captives or set prisoners free. Jesus demonstrated the hard, enduring agape kind of love. This love reveals the presence of God in the here and now. It also fills those who embody it with overwhelming joy in spite of the Herod’s and Temple Authorities who thrive on fear, hatred, and oppression.

We have just walked away from the manger that held the newborn Christ. We will soon witness the magi bring gifts to honor the child and have their arduous journey rewarded with Joy. We will soon see the heavens open and dove descend as God claims Jesus as God’s own Beloved. We are not meant to be passive witnesses. Our knees should ache a bit from kneeling at the manger, desperately searching for the Hope needed to continue on. Our feet should ache with the steps of the journey it took to follow the star. Our hands should feel the weight of gifts carried and given to glorify Emanuel. And our souls should feel that same joy overwhelming us. Our ears should ring with the call to repent. And just when we think we can bear no more, awe should stop us in our tracks as the heavens open and a Voice speaks saving words. All this, and all that will follow, is meant to prepare us to build the Realm of God right now.

No more excuses. No more normalizing or dismissing of the anxiety, fear, and oppression meant to silence and separate the people of God. There will always be another Herod waiting for his opportunity to rule over a people blinded by fear. There will always be Temple Authorities who corrupt God’s ways to further their own agenda and line their pockets with ill-gotten gold. If we have learned anything from the journey to Bethlehem, the impending arrival of Magi, and the Voice that claims us all as Beloved, then we can remain silent no longer. Let us all take up the way of Love, the hard, godly kind, and embody the Hope, Peace, Joy, and Love promised throughout the Advent season. Let’s shine with the nearly unbearable Light until the Herods are overthrown, the captives are liberated, and the Body of Christ becomes known for its transforming Love. Now that would be an Epiphany!

RCL – Year B – Epiphany or First Sunday after Epiphany – January 7, 2018
Isaiah 60:1-6
Psalm 72:1-7, 10-14
Ephesians 3:1-12
Matthew 2:1-12
or
Genesis 1:1-5
Psalm 29
Acts 19:1-7
Mark 1:4-11

Photo: CC0 image by Hans Braxmeier

Who Will Intercede for Us

Who will intercede for us as we worship gods of our own making? Who will plead with God on our behalf while we become supplicants of gods who cannot satisfy us? I find myself wondering this as I read through the story of the Israelites and the golden calf in the context of our self-serving society that places more value on pretty, shiny things than it does on human beings.

Unlike the ancient Israelites, God did not lead us into this wilderness where compassion is rare and condemnation flies freely in all directions. The Israelites became frightened and distrusting when they thought Moses and God had abandoned them. They wanted a God they could see and touch and be sure was present with them as they continued the journey toward transformation and liberation. I can sympathize with them. That was a grueling journey and to feel alone and abandoned would make any people yearn for something tangible, a pretty, shiny god. But, as I said, God didn’t lead us out into this wilderness. We got here on our own chasing the shadows of glitzy and glamourous gods made to please us (or fool us).

We are responsible for a society that values wealth over humanity, quick, violent solutions over slower peace processes, silence over justice, oppression over hospitality, and the status quo over transformative change. We fill ourselves with nostalgia for a past that never existed and yearn for a yesterday that is more fiction than fact. America was never great. However, if we stop focusing on ourselves and our golden calves, America could be better than it is.

The Exodus story tells us that God was angry when the people worshiped the golden calf they had made. God intended to wipe them out for their rather significant transgression. However, Moses interceded and reminded God of the covenant made with the ancestors. God relented and sent Moses back to the Israelites with the Ten Commandments to bring them back into right relationship with God and to build a healthier community.

I’m not sure that God was so very ready to smite the Israelites, but I can understand how those who first told this story might think so. I don’t think it was God who needed to be reminded of the covenant God had made with Abraham, Isaac, and Jocob; I think it was the Israelites who needed the reminder. Either way, Moses interceded and the community got another chance.

Now I do think that today God might be angry with those of us who call on God’s name and then go worship lesser gods. At the very least, God has to be disappointed that we still have not figured out how to love one another. We still have not figured out how to trust God to lead us through the wilderness even when we end up there by our own volition. God has reasons to be disappointed, angry, and frustrated with us all.

However, God’s steadfast love endures forever. God will wait patiently for us to turn away from the gods we have made. God will wait for us to recognize the image of God in all human beings. God will wait for us to recognize the beauty and wonder of Creation and take better care of the planet. I’m just not sure how long we want to keep God waiting.

We know better today than those ancient Israelites did. We know that the journey from oppression to liberation is a grueling one and that transformation is often a slow and painful process. We also know that God never abandons the people of God. We turn away often enough, but God does not. God patiently awaits our repentance so that we can live in right relationship with God, with our neighbors, with ourselves, and with creation.

Isn’t it time we stop making false gods? Isn’t it time we put away our attraction to quick fixes and instant gratification? Isn’t it time we roll up our sleeves and commit to working for justice, for peace, for liberation of all God’s children? Does it really matter so much what country someone was born it? Does it really matter what name a person calls God? Does it really matter how poor or wealthy a person is? Does it really matter which labels of division we place on one another?

The Apostle Paul tells us to turn our attention to things that are true, honorable, just, pure, pleasing, commendable, excellent, and worthy of praise. Maybe we should try that before we find ourselves in an outer darkness littered with the tarnished, dented gods our hands have made.

RCL – Year A – Nineteenth Sunday After Pentecost – October 15, 2017
Exodus 32:1-14 with Psalm 106:1-6, 19-23 or
Isaiah 25:1-9 with Psalm 23
Philippians 4:1-9
Matthew 22:1-14

Photo: CC0 image by Steve Bidmeand

Leaving Pharaoh’s Army

I went for a walk today. I was stunned to witness summer and autumn meeting in the streets. The sun was hot and the air hazy and humid. Yet, the ever-present Minnesota wind promised cooler days ahead. The leaves of the cottonwoods and maples were still mostly green, but the splashes of red and yellow were vibrant and unmissable. The sidewalks were littered with newly browned leaves that crackled underfoot and more tumbled lazily to the ground as I walked. To move through this intersection of seasons was a gift. To notice how summer is slowly giving way to autumn and how gracefully nature accepts this change was a blessing.

I didn’t walk today for my usual reason of raising my sluggish heartrate for at least thirty minutes. Instead my walk was an effort to find refuge from the storm of hatred that seems to have settled in and taken over everything. I had started to write my reflections on the Exodus story of the parting of the Red Sea when I noticed the pounding in my head, directly above my right eye. The pain kept the beat as echoes of the hateful comments on my most resent video episode played through my head. If people responded with vitriolic and violent words to my statement that God does not control the weather or use it to get our attention or to punish us, then what would be the response to saying that the parting of the Red Sea most likely didn’t happen the way it has been written? Could I write something that could incite more vitriol? There’s enough hate spewing forth from the fingers of anonymous cyberspace dwellers. I don’t want to draw more of it out.

Then I went for a walk. I saw the stunning beauty in the late summer flowers and the early autumn leaves. I smelled the fallen leaves as they turned to dust under my feet. The pain throbbing in my head lessened. The hate-filled voices quieted. Just because people do not accept change as easily as the natural world, doesn’t mean that the slow transformation from fear-filled to love-based faith won’t continue. It is possible that one day all will recognize that God loves us and does not orchestrate the happenings of the natural world to cause us pain or punish is. It is possible that one day all will accept LGBTQ+ people as beloved children of God. It is possible that someday we will rejoice in wonder and beauty of the whole human race and celebrate how God is reflected in each face. It is possible that one day we will be free from this bizarre desire to read and interpret scripture as if it were a book of facts rather than a collection of spiritual truths human beings have encountered in their search for God.

Now I’m going to say it. I don’t believe that God slaughtered the whole of Pharoah’s army any more than I believe God is sending massive storms, floods, fires, or famine to wipe out parts of countries around the globe. Would it have appeared this way to the Israelites? Of course. Only an act of God could free people from oppression in Egypt. The important thing is that the Israelites experienced liberation and were thankful for a God who loved them enough to stay with them through captivity, into liberation, and beyond. It’s a great story. And those of us of a certain age will always think of Charlton Heston when this story comes up. But a story told from the perspective of the Israelites isn’t the only way to tell the story. They told it in a way that affirmed the power and presence of their God over and above all other Gods. It’s not wrong; it’s just not likely factual. I’d bet the Egyptians would have a very different version of events…

That’s not what’s important, though. From a mythic, spiritual truth position the story speaks of a God who desires liberation for God’s people. God’s steadfast love held onto God’s people through the oppression, into liberation, and held them firmly through transformation and its aftermath.

This makes sense in today’s context where a God who murders entire armies doesn’t. God seeks liberation for the oppressed. God’s steadfast love holds us through all time, places, and circumstances. God does not ever seek to cause harm to any of creation, including human beings. God does not value violence and hatred and does not bring about circumstances that result in either one. If it is not an act full of love, forgiveness, and mercy, it is not from God. It’s that simple. There is no longer need to attribute anything else to God, especially when we realize how much hatred and violence is a direct consequence of human activity.

Pharaoh’s army is alive and thriving on our fear, distrust, and hatred of each other. Isn’t it time we all join together and assist in the liberation of all God’s people?

RCL – Year A – Fifteenth Sunday after Pentecost – September 17, 2017
Exodus 14:19-31 with Psalm 114
or Exodus 15:1b-11, 20-21
Genesis 50:15-21 with Psalm 103:(1-7), 8-13
Romans 14:1-12
Matthew 18:21-35

Photo: CC0 image by Congerdesign