As always, we should begin with the values of God
when it comes to land, landscape, and sacred place. Several weeks ago the iconic story of
Naboth’s vineyard had God’s story run counter to King Ahab and his empire. Here were the values expressed in that story
and in the Sabbath mythology given to the Jewish people as a way of keeping
them delivered from bondage, saved from oppression, free from slavery.
· That land is not for
sale. It is given as a gift. It does not go to the highest bidder. It is not about how much profit it garners or
what a choice piece of property it is.
If it is for sale, it also begins the process which shows that buyer,
seller, human beings are up for sale. If
the land can be bought, I can be bought.
· The land is given for the shalom (the peace, well-being, the
wholeness, the connectedness, the welfare) of the whole community.
· The land is given as a gift
for an ancestral heritage. It is to be
kept in the family so that if a hard time has it falling out of family hands,
the family might return to reclaim and redeem it at a future time. This keeps families and communities free from
generation upon generation of debt slavery.
· The land can and should be
redeemed to avoid debt slavery and provide rest and resource for the
community. Debts shall be recurrently
forgiven so that economic scavengers do not make the people and the land prey
and join land to land, house to house over and against those who are
economically vulnerable.
· The land requires rhythms of
Sabbath and rest so it is not demarcated as “enslaved.”
Judging by the popularity of the movies, today I
would like to begin with one of the most celebrated Christian theologians of
our time. J.R.R. Tolkien shared his
Christian theology through an incredible trilogy that
included mythological
creatures like elves, orcs, hobbits, and ents.
Ents (spelled) are those giant mythological, tree-like creatures in Tolkien’s
Lord of the Rings trilogy. Ents are
neutral in the affairs of war and peace.
With lifespans that transcend those of many creatures, they take the
long view. They consider, do not act
with haste, and are not easily aroused from their deep slumber. The aroused and awakened trees called the
Ents are described by one of the hobbits as follows:
One felt as
if there was an enormous well behind them, filled up with ages of memory and
long, slow, steady thinking, but their surface was sparkling with the present;
like sun shimmering on the outer leaves of a vast tree, or on the ripples of a
very deep lake. I don't know, but it felt as if something something that
grew in the ground--asleep, you might say, or between deep earth and sky had
suddenly waked up, and was considering you with the same slow care that it had
given to its own inside affairs for endless years.[1]
Moses is shepherding his flock on the backside of the desert, a
place, thought to be vast and unvarying in how banal and bland it is. There is nothing unique or spectacular found
here—except, except . . . There is this bush or tree that burns without being
consumed. Something qualitatively
different is
going on. We mark those
places by slipping off our shoes, removing our hat, sectioning off something
that is inherently dissimilar than the bland, regular, everyday surroundings.[2]
This is the place or mythological sensibility that we have come
upon Middle Earth. Middle Earth is not
only the place where heaven and earth intersect. Middle Earth is also the place where the
grist, the great story or epic of God’s activity in the affairs of humankind
take place. In Middle Earth, everything
is being worked out at the intersection of God’s story and the story of all
creation.
But one has to be
aware. One has to be on notice. One has to be awake to turn aside and
recognize that now is a time of great decision-making. A climactic shift is about to take
place. Have your children dressed, your
things packed, your animal at the ready, and your loins girded. It is time.
In the Judeo-Christian
tradition, we have too often acted like we are the masters of nature. Tolkien and his trilogy, particularly through
the Ents, remind us that the wise know better.
Nature has a life and vibrancy all of its own, even sharing with us the
way God is acting in the world. Critical
of godless industrialism, the Ent named Treebeard is critical of the evil
wizard, Saruman. Treebeard says of
Saruman, “He has a mind of metal and wheels; and he does not care for growing
things, except as they serve him for the moment.”[3]
Treebeard reminds us that the
forest “thinks” and has a view of its interrelationship with humanity that is
defined in eras and epochs. The Ents are
forever taking the long view, reminders that we should not be too hasty. They are closer to the Divine in that they
counsel action based on how this shall affect the world over the course of
hundreds of years.[4] It is
a reminder of that proverb from the Lacandon Maya: “If we destroy all of the trees, the sky will
fall.”
Whether Middle Earth is an actual place or a state of mind,
Tolkien’s story and the Biblical story remind us that Middle Earth experiences
are not often found in comfortable chairs or uncomfortable pews for that
matter. Rather, one has to be out and
about, experiencing and engaging the created world, sometimes in all of its
vast and unvaried landscapes.
In Moses’ encounter with the burning bush, the questions of
Middle Earth emerge:
·
How
does our faith together at Billings First Congregational demonstrate that we
have an interrelationship
with nature?
(That we not only work on nature but it works on us—that nature also is
a sacred carrier of the Divine?)
·
How
do we incorporate experiences of heaven and earth meeting out in the desert or
wilderness into our life, work, and worship at a downtown church in Billings,
Montana?
·
Moses
asks for the name of God to interpret to his people. That name then defines who God is and what
God does. What name do we give the
activity of God as God moves and works in the wider Billings community?
·
God
identifies with Hebrew slaves in the Exodus story. God comes down to liberate them from their
slave masters. With whom or what do we
believe God identifies in our day and age?
·
In
the story, God promises the divine presence to Moses as he takes on the mantle
of courageous leadership. What do we
believe God promises in our day and age?
·
Finally,
when Moses thinks he has to do it all alone, God reminds Moses of the gifts of
his brother. What wider gifts might we
find in our sisters and brothers in the wider community? With whom can we partner?
Ok, so those are the
discernment questions provided
by Middle Earth as a sacred
place. In a minute, I am going to ask us
all to spend 60 seconds in silence and meditation on those questions. And then I would like you to break into
groups of three or four to dialog about any one of those questions. Then I’ll ask you to share as you feel
led. Remember not to share anything from
anyone without asking for their permission first. First, a minute of silence. (a minute of silence and meditation and then
breaking into groups of two to four)
Like Moses before the
burning bush, it matters not how accomplished we are to recognize the task that
is before us as heaven meets earth.
Moses makes a number of excuses.
God moves through them all. All
we are asked to do is to turn aside, take notice, recognize that God is once
again doing something transformative and new.
The salvation of creation is being worked out in Middle Earth. Turn aside.
Amen.
[1] J. R. R. Tolkien, The
Lord of the Rings: Part Two, Two Towers (New York: Ballantine
Books, 1954), p. 64.
[2]
Belden C. Lane, Landscapes of the
Sacred: Geography and Narrative in
American Spirituality (Baltimore:
John Hopkins University Press, 2001).
I owe so much of this series to the work of Belden Lane.
[3]
Tolkien, “The Two Towers,” p. 76.
[4]
Noble Smith, The Wisdom of the
Shire: A Short Guide to A Long and Happy
Life (New York: Thomas Dunne Books,
2012), pp. 79-87.
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