Isiah 57:14-21; Luke 1:68-79
Over time, I believe Christianity developed an
unhealthy, primary focus on sin and the forgiveness of sin. I think it happened very naturally as people
glossed the Biblical text. Some of that
conversation about sin and forgiveness of sin is there. It is a strong and beautiful, personal and
communal part of Jewish tradition, and I want to talk about that. But the Christian Church became obsessive and
developed sin and forgiveness as a way to control people when the church became
a part of the imperial narrative. The
Church then used that obsession to control and box the Spirit of God when that
Spirit threatened to make things much more chaotic and democratic. (In
hoity-toity British accent) “Huff,
huff, huff, we need order here!”
It became a matter of orthodoxy. Sin and forgiveness became the central thing
we observed in worship. And, as the
church reflected wider culture and became unable to admit its own failings, sin
became more and more about individual, privatized moral failings found “out
there.” In other words, “My sin will
never be worse than yours or theirs!”
In contrast to modern day
individualism, ancient peoples made sense of their lives and identities through
community and nation. They could not
imagine an identity as separate from family, community, and nation. When the prophet Isaiah tells the people that
their sins of violence and injustice shall return to them, as a consequence of
their actions, the whole community is implicated, the whole nation must beg for
forgiveness. “Repent, turn from your
sins,” the prophet asks, “and you shall be forgiven. Do not turn from your sins, and your fate
will be like any other imperial project—destined for devastation and
destruction.” As the Jewish people enter
into the Babylon Exile, one after another the prophets tell the people that
their suffering is a result of their sin.
The prophet Isaiah believes that God is using the Babylonian Empire as a
rod to punish the Jewish people.
With the Jewish God understood as
All-Powerful, this became tautological theology. Not only are we punished for our sins. But also, if we are suffering, then we surely
have sinned. If we are suffering, if we
are poor and occupied and oppressed by an imperial power, this can only be by
the will of God. We must have broken
covenant. Our suffering is a sure sign
of our sinfulness. For we reap what we
sow.
But that tautological theology
becomes much more nuanced and refined as the Babylonian Exile stretches out for
decades. The book of Job, asking why the
innocent suffer, challenges the notion that it is only the sinful who
experience suffering and pain. Job’s
friends, who were at one time his allies, get sick of Job’s complaining and lamenting
and begin to tell him off, assuming he must have done something so terribly
wrong to have his wealth taken, his children die, and his good health
disappear. They believe they stand for
God over and against Job’s complaint.
But God turns on Job’s friends and tells them they have no idea what
they are talking about.
Even with God attempting to correct
Job’s friends as a part of our faith story, I would argue that the primary
narrative is still that we, as people, suffer because we sinned and we are
flawed. If we are dispossessed,
chronically ill, or struggling to make it, we are that way, so the story goes,
because God, on the throne, still large and in charge, is punishing us for our
sin. Therefore, the poor, the
marginalized, the diseased fear God. We are not sure we want God to show up or
to offer God’s presence because God seems to be forever mad at us.
At the first church I served, a young girl, Tracy
Renner, had stopped coming to youth group and had dropped out of contact with
the church. When her mom brought Tracy
to me to share that she had attempted suicide, I wondered what was up. Her mom told me Tracy had gone through a
series of events where she had almost lost her life. One time she had been flipped off her
bike. Another time she fell down a
flight of stairs. Finally, she had
almost been hit by a car. I asked if
these events had all occurred before Tracy had attempted suicide. Tracy shook her head “yes” but would not make
eye contact with me. I asked her,
“Tracy, do you think God wants you dead?”
She burst into tears. Yes. Yes, she did. How else to explain, the events
she had gone through and an all-powerful God?
If God was in charge, then why was she being targeted? Why not just do it herself?
That tautological theology is
critical for understanding what the Jewish people were going through at the
time of Jesus. The Jewish people are
once again occupied and oppressed. Therefore,
we must be sinful. We must have turned
from God. Why would we call upon God
when all we might do is draw God’s attention to us and bring more devastation
and destruction?
Jesus spends his time forgiving
people of their sins so that the poor and dispossessed around him know that God
is not against them. jBut for
them—seeking to join hands with them and work on their behalf. Shepherds are afraid of angels. People who greet Jesus, who recognize God in
him, tentatively approach him seeking healing saying, “O Jesus, have mercy on
me and help me, for I am a sinner.” Jesus
is acting knowing that his people, the rural Jewish population in Galilee, had
to know they were forgiven, that their tremendous suffering and death at the
hands of Rome, was not as a result of some moral ineptitude on their part.
Jesus had to be about forgiving sins first
so that people knew that the grace of God abides and that they could approach
God, see God once again walking with them. God is for you. So then, if it is not God who is causing or
wants our disease, oppression, and poverty, then bowed heads lift to ask if God
might want an end to their disease, violence, and death, particularly found in
the Roman occupation. Unfortunately, Christianity
took something out of that sin and forgiveness particularity and generalized it
as a theme with the Church. With the
church institution in sole possession of the ability to forgive, forgiveness
became a racket for the Christian Church.
That racket led to correctives
like the Protestant Reformation, began schools of thought like the
Enlightenment to respond to its inadequacies, and came under heavy criticism
from literary giants like Albert Camus in The
Plague.
When we are our best selves we know
that pain and suffering in an individual, community, and nation are not signs that they are sinful. We know that terrible childhood cancers do
not select the children who are the worst sinners. We know that devastating car accidents happen
as tragedies to families and friends—not because they are God’s enemies. We know that bad things, horrific things,
evil things happen to good and moral and right and just people.
Jesus actively trashes the tautological theology in an effort to upset the apple cart. He forgives sins (outside the religious elite’s economic chokehold at the Temple in Jerusalem) so people know they are worthy to be healed. He tells his disciples that a tower fell on Gentiles not because they were any worse people but because it was a tragedy.
The call of Advent is to prepare. Pre-pare. Pre--get ready. Pare--by trimming the excess fat off to walk this difficult and long journey. We will need to be lean and mean, not carrying excess baggage, to make this journey. For though the powers and principalities will try to tell us we are not worthy and that we are not entitled to join in the decision-making as voters, as citizens, as neighbors, we are worthy! They tell us we do not understand the finances or don’t have the expertise. But hear this sisters and brothers, siblings and cousins, when we come together in community, we are not only worthy but a people of rich and diverse gifts. We were forgiven a long time ago by a God who is always extending grace. Long has God offered grace, long has God forgiven, long before Jesus. God and God in Christ have been looking for collaborators to stitch and piece together a path to peace.
The songs of Mary and Zechariah
remind us that Jesus’s arrival is a politically subversive event. God is seeking collaborators and finds
collaboration with Mary, Elizabeth, Zechariah, and John the Baptist to say that
the sin is identifying ourselves as Roman subjects rather than as the Beloved
Children of God. In contrast to some
ancient songs which herald such reversals, however, these songs seem to suggest
that the reversals will not benefit those thrown off their thrones, the mighty
who gorge themselves on arrogance and violence.
This is what Dr. King tried to tell us.
Even more so, Dr. King said, it is white people who need to be redeemed
and rescued from the scourge of racism.
We are worthy. We are gifted. We are forgiven. God is seeking collaborators. We are forgiven. Jesus is actively seeking
disciples. Stop sitting mired within
your own personal hell of sins and join hands with others, join hands with God.
Here is where the tautological
theology gets really nasty though. Too
often we are willing to see ourselves as worthy, gifted, and
forgiven, but we turn to people who are not like us to see them as sinful. It is an imperial lie which allows us to turn
to a whole group of people, “Hmmm, they just don’t want to take
responsibility. All they do is cause
trouble. If they only had the cultural bent towards family and hard work. Because they suffer, they must be morally
reprehensible. Hurricanes come because
of the gay agenda. African American men
are absentee parents and are fearful beasts.
Immigrants are murderers and rapists.”
Part of our preparing as colleagues with God is to
ask what we are getting ready to trim the fat for? Because what we prepare for, orient ourselves
for, matters for what we receive. When
we don’t actively seek to learn something new or to be surprised by
relationships, all we receive is information that fits into old boxes.
What are we preparing for.this Advent season? Because, you know, you are forgiven. And you
are worthy. And we, as a community, have
this rich tapestry of gifts. That was
long since established. But what God is
seeking . . . ? What God is seeking are
colleagues to stitch and piece together the way to peace.
Zechariah sings, “By the tender mercies of our God,
the dawn from on high is beginning to break upon a people who have too long sat
in the night and in the shadow of death.
For at Oxford High School, in Haiti, in Barbados, on Wet’suwet’en land,
guiding our feet into the way of peace.
Said to the faithful at Pilgrim Congregational United Church of Christ
in St. Joseph, are we willing to walk that way?
Into the way of peace? What are
we preparing for? Amen.
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