A Word for the Church (eCrozier #293)

Below is a statement from The Episcopal Church’s House of Bishops. We passed it unanimously, which, from my experience in the House, is a rare occurrence. That should indicate to the entire Church how strongly the bishops of our Church feel about this.

A Word to the Church

On Good Friday the ruling political forces of the day tortured and executed an innocent man. They sacrificed the weak and blameless to protect their own status and power. On the third day Jesus was raised from the dead revealing not only their injustice but also unmasking the lie that might makes right.

In a country still living under the shadow of the lynching tree, we are troubled by the violent forces being released by the season’s political rhetoric. Americans are turning against their neighbors, particularly those on the margins of society. They seek to secure their own safety and security at the expense of others. There is legitimate reason to fear where this rhetoric and the actions arising from it might take us.

In the moment, we resemble God’s children wandering in the wilderness. We, like they, are struggling to find our way. They turned from following God and worshipped a golden calf constructed of their own wealth. The current rhetoric is leading us to construct a modern false idol out of power and privilege. We reject the idolatrous notion that we can ensure the safety of some by sacrificing the hope of others. No matter where we fall on the political spectrum, we must respect the dignity of every human being and seek the common good above all else.

We call for prayer for our country that a spirit of reconciliation will prevail and that we will not betray our true selves.

Now for my personal thoughts on the above statement. While I agree 100% with what we bishops wrote, I think in some ways it’s not a strong enough warning. Our country is at a pivotal moment in its history. During times of great cultural change or of profound dislocation and uncertainty, nations historically have made poor choices in protecting the common good, but particularly for the less powerful, which usually meant religious or ethnic minorities. Those times of uncertainty have led nations to scapegoat those on the bottom rung of the ladder. Our nation has had signs posted in its history that read: “Irish need not apply” or “No Colored Folk” or “No Jews.” We imprisoned Japanese-Americans during World War II for no legitimate reason. We shouldn’t see ourselves today as being so morally pure or advanced that such things couldn’t happen again. They well could. When people are desperate they can act violently and irrationally. And when their desperation is fueled by scapegoating, it leads to a national moral failure.

Future generations of Christians in America will look back and offer their judgment on how we behave in the days ahead. Let’s pray that their judgment will find us faithful.

+Scott

 

Good Intentions and Good Friday (eCrozier #217)

But I’m just a soul whose intentions are good

Oh Lord, please don’t let me be misunderstood
– Eric Burdon and the Animals

I’ve sung this song out loud with Eric Burdon many times, sincerely believing the words, and making them my own. I do believe I approach my life and my experiences with others with the best of intentions, at least most of the time, I think I do. I know I want to believe I do. Yet, Burdon’s self-delusional “prayer” is one that all of us sinners pray to some extent: But I’m just a soul whose intentions are good, Oh Lord, please don’t let me be misunderstood. It’s as if he’s trying to convince himself that what he’s singing is true. St. Paul’s lament puts it in a related, but slightly different way: “I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate” (Romans 7:15).

We all long for others to truly understand us. We want others to recognize that even when we “do the very thing [we] hate,” we weren’t intending to hurt them, or make them angry, or cause them problems, or at least we think we weren’t. We all suffer from misunderstood motives, hurt feelings, and eroded trust in our relationships that come from just trying to be understood, and even trying to understand ourselves and our own confused actions at times. St. Paul’s shockingly self-revealing statement about himself reveals the truth about ourselves as well. It’s a verifiable truth for all humanity.

For over 100 years in western culture, we’ve sought to understand human identity and why we do the things we do, some of which are acts of great compassion and courage, while other acts reveal what our Ash Wednesday liturgy refers to as simply the “pride, hypocrisy, and impatience of our lives.” Jonathan Haidt and other moral psychologists have helped us understand all this better, but at the end of the day we’re left with much of our human identity as a mystery to ourselves (“Why indeed did I do the very thing that I hate? Maybe this particular soul’s intentions weren’t all that good after all?”).

And that’s where the saving act of Jesus meets us on his cross. Thanks be to God that our intentions, good and otherwise, aren’t determinative to God. The Gospel of Jesus isn’t about our good intentions or lack thereof. It’s actually about our recurring failure to have good intentions. It’s about how everything about us, even when our intentions (we hope) are truly good, can become just another opportunity for sin.

And that’s where the Church of Jesus Christ meets us on Good Friday with a witness; for we witness that the Church isn’t a community who has been called together for good intentions. Rather, we’re a community who has been called together by God to proclaim God’s amazing grace in the cross of Jesus. In spite of all we are and aren’t and all we do and don’t do, God loves us on the cross. Now that bears repeating, because many need to be deprogrammed from a worldview that sees God as out to “get” us. Jesus didn’t come into the world to “get” us. He came into the world so long ago to love us (see John 3:16). His cross assures us of that truth for eternity. That’s why this Friday is so Good.

+Scott