Thoughts about My Church Becoming a German Beer Hall

As I write these words, Kristkindl Markt is nearly here.  By the time you read this, my church's building will be filled with hundreds, maybe thousands of visitors coming to visit our German Christmas festival.  Every year our church building is transformed into a German Christmas village with craft vendors and gingerbread houses for the kids.  Our social hall is turned into a beer hall with German food, beer (shout out to KC Bier Company) and oompah bands.  Our church has been at this for 25 years, and KKM has become a Christmastime tradition for hundreds, if not thousands, of people.  Sure, it's our church's largest fundraiser, and its a way for our folks to get to know one another working side by side to keep the beer, brats and gingerbread houses flowing, but I want to offer another reason why KKM matters this year more than ever.

I was a child when Watergate happened and Richard Nixon resigned.  By the time I even understood what had happened, it all seemed like ancient history to me.  My generation never knew life without deep cynicism in our political system, and a fractured and hyper-partisan America is all we've ever known.  The deep wounds and ramifications of that time continue to fester.  Many commentators and historians trace a line from our current impeachment drama back through Watergate and all the way back to the founding of our nation.  Whatever the outcome now, the pain of this time will reach far into the future in ways we cannot predict, just like folks in 1974 could never have envisioned where we are today.

Supposedly one should never talk about politics or religion in polite company, but in my lifetime I can't really think of a worse time to talk about either.  Up until the 2016 election, financial disagreements were the biggest cause of marriage breakups in America.  Since the election, the leading cause of relationships ending was disagreement over politics.  One polling report I found showed "one in 10 couples, married and not, have ended their relationships in a battle over political differences. For younger millennials, it's 22 percent.  And nearly one in three Americans said that political clashes over Trump have "had a negative impact on their relationship," said the report . . ."Passionately opposing points of views are not only driving wedges between strangers and even friends, but we are now seeing evidence that this dissent is having a detrimental impact on Americans' marriages and relationships."  That report was produced in 2017.  Imagine how much worse those statistics are now.

Certainly our present days offer plenty of opportunities for people of faith to take stands against racism, xenophobia, attacks on immigrants and threats to honesty itself.  Yet, I've come to believe that people of faith also can play a role in bringing disparate people together to find common ground.  I'm talking about the most basic kind of common ground--just being together int he same space while being civil to one another.

I'm not a believer in "peace and harmony" necessarily being a good thing in and of itself.  In American history, "peace" has almost always meant security for some at the cost of oppression for others.  As MLK said, "True peace is not merely the absence of tension: it is the presence of justice."  That being said, there have to be opportunities for people to come together, share something in common and experience the common humanity in one another.   At some point, people must come out from behind their cell phones and the nastiness they spew at total strangers in order to simply remember things like empathy, connection and that simple fact that someone may look and believe things very different from you but that doesn't erase your shared humanity.   From a Christian perspective, one could say it's a chance for us to recognize the image of God in others different from ourselves and to see how Jesus' difficult teachings about loving our "enemies" can actually be made real.

Recently, I sat down for coffee with one of the sports writers for the KC Star.  He shared with me about how social media has changed his business,.  At a different time, he would maybe receive some hate mail in the literal mail or rude phone messages on his voicemail.  Now, even the most non-controversial column or story about sports results in dozens of the most grotesque, obscene and even violent tweets and comments directed at him.  (Female sports writers have it even worse!)  As we commiserated on the state of our nation's soul, he remarked that I was the one as a minister doing something about it, while he was only a sports writer.  I laughed and shared how powerless I often feel as a minister to make any perceptible difference.  It takes faith to believe what I can rarely see, namely that God's spirit is at work improving the world despite evidence to the contrary.  

I also told him that I felt he was selling himself short as a sports writer.  Although some would dismiss sports as trivial, at its best sports can bring people together to have fun and share an experience together.  Just think about the Royals World Series parade in 2015!  I told him that despite the attacks he experiences from trolls, that his public service was helping people find enjoyment in something instead of fueling the omnipresent outrage machine.  There is a reason talking sports becomes a bridge between people who have trouble communicating about anything else.  Many are the times when I couldn't talk with someone about religion or politics but we could share a smile reliving a great pass by Patrick Mahomes.

Similarly, the folks coming to KKM may come from all sides of our current partisan divide and the bad religion mixed into it all.  Yet, when they are here they get to be together, enjoy some great food and music, remember what it was like to be a child delighted by a gingerbread house and maybe even be reminded of what it means to be human.  We don't get many new members from KKM, but we get thousands of people who know our church as the place they experience a vibrant, positive, life-giving experience.  That seems pretty worthwhile to me.

Thoughts About the So-Called Religious Left

I've done my best to limit my consumption of the impeachment hearings this week.  They are historical events happening live, and in no way do I wish to diminish their importance, but I just know that for my own mental and spiritual health, I can only take so much.  I'm a news junkie, and often you can find me with my nose buried in my phone scrolling through the latest headlines.  Yet, I have realized I'm also sensitive to the negativity and hyper partisanship of our times.  I tend to soak it up like a sponge, and there is a spiritual cost to carrying a sack of outrage through one's days.  

I believe Christians must be involved in the political process of our culture, but I think how we go about it matters more than anything.  I think the "how" is especially important for progressive/liberal Christians, because it is so easy to remain in a state of reaction to the Religious Right without offering anything positive in return.  Furthermore, because we who are Christian and liberal/progressive can too easily in our determination to not repeat the sins of the Religious Right simply disregard how our faith impacts our politics altogether.  So as not to be perceived as connected with hatemongers like Franklin Graham, Jerry Falwell, Jr. and so on we cede the entire religious dimension of politics to them as if our own progressive faith has nothing to offer.

The Religious Right has its roots in the 1970's with Jerry Falwell's so-called Moral Majority and was followed in the 80's and 90's by the Christian Coalition of Ralph Reed and Pat Robertson.  Since I was old enough to be aware of such things, I've always assumed the hypocrisy and blatant hunger for power would result in the failure of this movement.  Surely, I thought, so many well-meaning Christians would see the error of their ways and abandon such a hypocritical and power hungry movement.  So far, I've been proven wrong.

Although all churches, left, right and center, are declining in numbers, the steepest decline of all has been among liberal/progressive Protestant churches.  This past September, an article ran in The Atlantic about the secularization of America over the last three decades.  The result of the Religious Right's efforts has been for liberal/progressive young people to abandon organized religion altogether.  In other words, for younger Americans (and maybe older Americans too) to be progressive is to be secular (or at least unaffiliated with organized religion).  I've always thought that the sins of the Religious Right would drive progressive-leaning Christians to churches like ours, but they have left their conservative evangelical churches and never gone back to any church at all (at least not yet).

So what's a Progressive Christian to do about being involved with politics?  Is the only answer to leave your faith at the door when you volunteer to help a progressive political campaign?

A common tactic I've seen repeated again and again in my lifetime is to attempt to create a "Religious Left" to counter the Religious Right.  I confess to being cynical about such efforts.  I've watched such movements come and go over the years.  Jim Wallis from Sojourners led such a movement with his book "God's Politics" during the George W. Bush years.  After that came Red Letter Christians, so named because they claimed to be following the words of Jesus (which are printed in red in the King James Bibles of fundamentalists) rather than a right-wing ideology.  The most recent incarnation seems to be one called Vote Common Good.

I found out about Vote Common Good by listening to an episode of The New Yorker Radio Hour where one of its founders, Doug Padgitt was interviewed.  I've met Padgitt and respect him.  He led workshops at one of our Missouri Mid-South Conference UCC meetings a few years back.  I have some of his books on change in the church, and unlike most stuff in that category of books, I actually like his stuff.  Yet, this new thing sounds to me like something that has already been tried and found wanting.  Though Padgit, like the other efforts before his own, claims, I think sincerely, that their goal is to move beyond the right-left dichotomy, I just don't see anybody budging on the Religious Right side of the equation.  If someone picks candidates based on their beliefs that abortion under all circumstances is murder and anything other than conservative gender roles and sexuality is a threat to civilization, then they don't seem likely to care much about the common good.

I don't have an answer to progressives leaving organized religion, and I don't think anyone else does either.  Yet, in the face of such a shift in culture, I maintain that the life and teachings of Jesus Christ profoundly shape my progressive politics.  I believe loving God and loving my neighbor means working for the common good of everyone, especially those who are disenfranchised from sharing power and wealth like ethnic minorities, women, LGBTQ people and so many others.  I'm up for working with anyone who shares those goals whether or not they share my religious beliefs.  Most of all, I believe one can be Christian and progressive without having to choose between them.  

At heart, despite the cynicism I may espouse, I am really an optimist and an idealist.  I believe progressive Christianity isn't dying but rather God is transforming it into something we have not seen before.  We may experience pain and grief as the ways of doing church we have known die and become things of the past, but God always creates new life.

At the top of this post, I inserted a picture from the great cathedral, the Hagia Sophia, in Istanbul, Turkey.  The great mural inside shows Christ in the garb of a Roman Emperor with the earthly emperor and empress to ether side of him.  In this picture, there is no daylight between the government and Christ.  That cathedral today is a museum, and on my sabbatical I saw the ruins of cathedrals, churches and monasteries from one end of Europe to the other.  The tension over Christianity's relationship with power has existed since the beginning of the religion.  During his ministry, Paul told the readers of his Letter to the Romans to obey earthly authorities, but half a century later, the book of Revelation calls Rome the Whore of Babylon.  A few centuries later, Christianity became the official religion of the Roman Empire, but a millennium later reformers would question the equation of church and state.  Throughout Christian history, God has always transformed the church and raised up voices who challenged the church's lust for earthly power bringing new life into a hypocritical religion.  God always raises up people to be prophets who reject Christ being made into the image of an earthly ruler.  If the past is any guide, God will do the same in our future.  The question for us in the uncertain present is do we have enough faith in God and one another to stick it out until that future occurs?

  

Grace and Peace,

Chase

Thoughts About the Sudden and Unpredictable Nature of Falling Acorns (and Tragedies)

I want to give you fair warning that you need a hard hat to enter my church's building because of all the falling acorns.  As I drive around the Brookside are of KC this time of year, the tremendous racket of falling acorns hitting the roof of my car feels like I"m taking enemy fire.  While I write these words at my office computer my thoughts keep getting interrupted by the loud echo of acorns falling on the roof of our chapel right next to my office.  As I walk out to my car (with its many acorn dents looking as if I've been in a hailstorm) each day this week, I've reflected on this dangerous method of the beautiful oak trees continuing the propagation of their species.  

This barrage of acorns is just nature's way of keeping life going.  Each fall, the acorns drop so that new trees can be born, squirrels will have nuts to eat and we will enjoy the shade of these trees another year.  Seasons come and seasons go but life goes on.  Yet, I couldn't help but wonder, "Does life have to drop miniature bombs on my head, my car and my church building?"  Life goes on, but life contains incidents that feel like an acorn to an uncovered head striking out of the blue.  Conflict with loved ones, lost jobs, deaths of people we care for, psychological struggles, rejections, medical crises, broken friendships, failed marriages, traumas of various kinds, grief in all its forms can fall upon us without warning as the universe and nature continue their courses indifferent to who gets hit by an acorn and who gets hit by a crisis that shakes them to their core.

Ruins of the temple of Apollo in Corinth, Greece.

This summer on my sabbatical I visited the ruins of the city of Corinth, which once rivaled Athens in size and importance.  It stands at a crossroads between northern and southern Greece on an isthmus with ports on the Aegean Sea to the east and the Gulf of Corinth which leads to the Mediterranean Sea on the west.  In the first century Common Era, the apostle Paul came to this city to found a church.  He worked for over eighteen months as a tentmaker, probably catering to sailors and visitors to the cities great athletic tournament, the Isthmian Games.  The church he founded was wracked with conflict over leadership, sexual behavior, food offered to idols, religious practice, economic class divisions and more.  We have two letters from Paul that survive and are in the New Testament canon, but Paul mentions there were more.  What other controversies existed in that early church remain lost in time.  From what we can know, the church in Corinth was far from a Utopian community.  Paul must have wondered if all his effort to keep it going was worth the trouble.

In the second letter to the church, Paul responds to critics who argue Paul is not an impressive spiritual leader.  They apparently mock the way Paul speaks, the way he looks and the many trials and troubles he finds himself in.  Surely a spiritual person would look, sound and act more successful?  Paul responds with a sarcastic list of all his "failures": imprisonment, beatings, lashings, stonings, shipwrecks, being lost at sea, constantly on the move, facing danger from all sorts of enemies, nights  without sleep, hunger, thirst, and lots of stress over the churches he founded.  Paul declares that others may boast in their strengths, but he will only boast in his weaknesses, so that he can declare how powerful Christ is to work through a weak person like himself.

Paul knew a thing or two about acorns of unexpected pain seemingly falling from the sky.

Yet, in Paul's letter to this community of first generation Christians who had so much trouble getting along with one another, the apostle writes one of the most famous passages of poetry ever written.  Most likely you've heard it only recited at a wedding.  It begins, "Love is patient.  Love is kind. . . "  It appears in the 13th chapter of Paul's first letters to the Corinthian church.  

As someone who officiates weddings pretty regularly, I must confess that the Bible doesn't have a lot of passages appropriate for modern weddings and the egalitarian love we celebrate between two people who have freely chosen to marry one another.  Most of the discussions of marriage and married relationships in the Bible describe the marriages of their day which were more business arrangement between families than romantic love between two people.  When I meet with couples before the wedding, I give them a list of scripture passages to look over, but 9 times out of 10 they pick 1 Corinthians 13.  I go with it, but between you and me I cringe a bit.  Paul's ode to love was written not about a couple getting along (although one certainly could apply it to any relationship) but a community of believers fighting like cats and dogs.  

Paul is describing what love looks like after spending several chapters discussing the disputes in the Corinthian church.  Women in the church were dressing and behaving in worship the way priestesses did in pagan temples, rich church members were showing up early to church potlucks and eating all the food while their laborers and slaves who had to work late showed up to find nothing to eat, some members had spiritual gifts (glossolalia or speaking in tongues) and claimed those without them were inferior and so on.  In answer to all these divisions, Paul uses the metaphor of the body to describe how we all  are part of the "body of Christ" and all are necessary for the well-being of the whole

Clay and plaster models of body parts left as offerings to the god of healing, Asclepios, in the museum at Corinth, Greece.

In the modern museum at the ruins of Corinth, there are clay and plaster models of body parts which were purchased by travelers visiting the temple of Asclepios, the god of healing.  It's likely Paul saw them as he carried out his day job and began to think of the local Christian community as different but necessary parts of one body.

Paul goes further and says as members of one body, the body of Christ, we are to treat each other with love.  Paul's point is that nothing good or worthwhile can happen in the life of a Christian if they do not have love.  Even the most noble acts are merely a "clanging gong" and "accomplish nothing" if the person carrying them out doesn't have love.  

If I feel like I can get away with it in a wedding ceremony, I tell the couple and the gathered congregation that 1 Corinthians 13 wasn't written for a wedding when people are celebrating and getting along.  Instead, it was written when people were bitterly fighting.  The words of this passage are most needed when we forget what love looks like and act out of something other than love.  So I urge the couple and the congregation to return to these words of scripture when they have forgotten what love looks like.

When an acorn of grief and pain falls onto our heads out of nowhere and we are shaken to our core, we need reminding what love looks like.  The cliche "hurt people hurt people" is true.  When we hurt, we are more likely to lash out at others, especially those closest to us.  We bottle up our anger only to explode in inappropriate situations.  Stuck in our own pain, we seek easy but unhealthy ways to numb our pain through alcohol, drugs, sex, food or any number of things that keep us from feeling, much less doing anything to improve our situations.  The good news is that with God's help we don't have to make the pain worse, we can choose love.  

We can begin by loving ourselves enough to refuse to pile contempt on our own heads.  We can love both ourselves and those around us by taking the difficult but courageous steps to seek help from a counselor, therapist or minister.  When our faith in God is weakest, we can choose to devote ourselves to serving others.  The best way I know to find God when God seems absent is through giving myself to help others' needs.  God usually shows up when love is shared between hurting people trying to help one another.

Acorns fall.  Pain happens.  Love abides.  ". . . and the greatest of these is love."

Grace and Peace,

Chase

A Letter from Christ to the Church in America

Icon of John receiving the revelation as found in the Cave of the Apocalypse on the island of Patmos in Greece.

I usually feel pretty good about the sermons I preach in terms of the average sermon being a representation of who I am and what I believe.  I feel that way, because I am speaking for myself and in my congregation we have an understanding--what Chase preaches is from his experience and perspective but members of the congregation may have different experiences and perspectives.  I don't make any claims that I am somehow speaking for God, but rather I'm speaking from my understanding of who God is.  I'm human, so I can be wrong.  Certainly my mind has changed about a great many things during my time as a minister, so why should I expect to think or believe the same way five years, ten years, twenty years from now.  

But. . .

I recently gave a sermon where I didn't feel comfortable at all.  I gave plenty of caveats, but still feared deeply that the nice woman visiting for the first time sitting up front would probably never come back after hearing this experiment of a sermon.  (She wasn't back the next Sunday, but I'm crossing my fingers this week.)  I was uncomfortable, because I presented a letter I wrote as a letter from Christ to the Church in America.

Oh, don't worry, I was very, very veeerrrrrryyyyy open that this was a work by me, representing my point of view and NOT a claim to be speaking for Christ, but I grew up hearing fundamentalist preachers claiming to speak for God and I never want to even go near such blasphemy.  

This sermon was a part of a series I and the other ministers at my church came up with--"The End of the World: a Sermon Series for Progressive Christians about the Book of Revelation."  (If you are interested you can watch videos of them on our church's Facebook page. )  When we came up with the series, I had the brainstorm of writing a letter from Christ to the Church in America, modeled on the language of the letters to the seven churches at the beginning of the Book of Revelation.  On my sabbatical this past summer, I had visited six of the seven churches (or the ruins thereof) in southwestern Turkey.  It seemed like a good idea.

But when I sat down to write it, I felt deeply intimidated.  Who am I to claim to speak for Christ?  Isn't such an exercise merely me putting my own views out there as if they are Christ's own?  How often have I criticized fundamentalist preachers for doing the same?  I went ahead anyway hoping that at least I was aware of what I was doing rather than acting with an unconscious hubris.  Is hubris one is conscious of a good thing?  

I would say the finished product was helpful for me, if for nobody else.  Although I've known full well that the John who wrote Revelation riffs on imagery found elsewhere in what Christians call the Old Testament, it was eye-opening for me, as I tried to mirror his poetry and imagery, how much Revelation reads like Isaiah, Amos or most other prophets from the Hebrew Bible.  It helped me to understand that when we take Revelation out of the end times framework modern Christians have put it in, that it reads like other books we label as biblical prophecy.  They are not predicting some future end-time scenario happening thousands of years in the future, rather they are using over the top imagery to critique their present world conditions.  John wasn't talking about an end of the world in the 21st century, rather he was talking about an alternate view of reality than the one being sold by the Roman Empire in his day.

Still, using imagery of judgment and destruction is foreign to me.  It was hard to do so without images of Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell saying live on TV that 9-11 was God's judgment on America for feminists and gays or similar horrible rhetoric.  For me and most folks in my congregation, we are in our particular faith community, because we grew tired of being abused by preachers using apocalyptic imagery to condemn whatever "other" they had their sites on that particular week.  Yet, I wonder if we couldn't use at least a little judgment of God to shake us out of the stupors which tempt us day to day.

Elizabeth Schussler-Fiorenza writes in her commentary on Revelation how North American Christians are offended by the judgment and lack of mercy in Revelation, but Christians in the global south cherish its confrontation with powerful oppressors.  When I've attempted to preach on Bible passages using apocalyptic imagery, I like to ask my middle class and above congregation whether or not they wish for the world to end?  For most folks in the room who happen to be Americans living comfortable lives compared to most inhabitants of our planet, the answer would probably be no.  Yet, if we were spending our lives picking trash at a dump in Mumbai, wouldn't we want the world as we know it to end?  If we were children caught up in the sex trade in southeast Asia, wouldn't we want the world as we know it to end?  If we were imprisoned on the U.S. southern border separated from our children, wouldn't we want the world as we know it to end?  Perhaps our aversion to apocalyptic imagery says a lot more about our social position in the world than anything else.

A difficulty for me with the apocalyptic imagery in Revelation is that there is no gray area, only black and white.  You are on God's side or you are on Satan's side, there is no in-between.  I prefer to live my life and carry out my ministry in gray spaces where humility asks me to constantly admit God cares very little about the strict categories I like to pigeon-hole people into.  Yet Revelation has no time for such grayness--it is meant to shock its audience out of its complacency, because the evil systems of this world require an urgent response.  I confess I can easily use my progressive mode of considering all or at least most points of view to shield myself from the urgent demands of God upon my life.  I'm as guilty as the next white liberal in talking a lot about a subject and then thinking I've actually done something about it.  The words of Christ in Revelation allow for no such dissembling and demand a certain way of life rather than mere talk

Speaking for myself, I think I could probably use a little apocalyptic self-assessment now and then.  

So, it's with discomfort and humility, I present to you my sermon from October 20, 2019: A Letter From Christ to the Church in America.  If you'd like a refresher on this kind of apocalyptic discourse which I'm trying to make use of, click here to read the first three chapters of Revelation.

To the angel of the church in America, write:

These are the words of him who is the First and the Last, who died and came to life again.

I know of your great wealth, but in truth you are poor and wretched. You are so comfortable that you have no need of God, so you wander blindly wondering why life holds no meaning. In fact money is your God. Your dollar bills say “In God We Trust”, but it is only money you trust. To have money is to have power you say, but true power comes only when you give your money away. You see only the outside—the fine clothes, the expensive cars and pricey homes, but I tell you all these will burn, rust will destroy them and they will rot in landfills. I see what is on the inside and what a person is truly worth and the ones worth the most are those you do not welcome in your churches because they offer you none of the money and power you crave.

You claim to worship God, but in my name you break God’s commandments not to judge, not to oppress the poor and weak and not to kill. In God’s name you cast out your own children because of how God created them. You dare to call them sexually immoral and fornicators but I say it is you who fornicate with the false gods of this sinful age. You have forsaken God’s commandments by giving your true allegiance to evil leaders who cage children, rob from the poor and pollute the earth. I will cast down these evildoers and what is hidden shall be revealed. All who follow them will be shown to be unfaithful hypocrites. You who were given white robes now wear red ones for they are stained with the blood of innocents killed by weapons of war unleashed in your streets, your schools, your houses of worship. Those who call out my name while profiting from the blood of innocents shall taste the fire of my wrath.

You have made the color white a god. You have painted your churches white to match the color of your skin. Yet the white paint you use is mixed with the black and brown blood of those you have trod upon. So those who are white shall become black. Your white buildings shall burn and ash shall make your skin dark as midnight. You shall become like those you mock and despise.  Their blackness is a beautiful gift of God, but the blackness of your skin shall be the ash of judgment.

You were given God’s earth to care for and enjoy, yet you forgot the one who gave it to you. You thought of yourselves as gods having dominion over the earth, but you forgot the Giver of Life. So instead you bring death, fouling the seas, filling the air with smoke that chokes, killing the soil which produces food, strangling the beasts of the field and the birds of the air. So I am sending a great plague that will blow like a hot east wind. The seas will boil and the sun shall burn. The land will no longer bear fruit. Those who have ears to hear must repent before this judgment comes. If you do not remember your creator, the wrath to come will leave you crying out for God’s mercy.

Your megachurches are towers to pride that I will cast down. Your internet friends shall desert you in your hour of need when you require a friend to hold you as you weep. Your cities and mansions built by slaves, furnished by the broken backs of the poor shall all burn when I pour out my wrath. As you stand in the ashes, you shall call to your Gods, 

“Money, where are you?” 

“Power, why won’t you help me?” 

“Violence, save me!” 

“Privilege, protect me!” 

But those Gods shall not save you. The two-edged sword which comes from my mouth shall slay them.

In the end, all the armies of the world will be defeated by the lamb who was slain. The Kings of the earth shall bow down to the lamb. The injustices they have inflicted on my children shall be punished. The one whom they crucified, who committed no violence, shall defeat all violence. All the might of the nations shall quake with fear before the lamb who was slain.  Their tools of violence shall be as dust before a storm.

There are some who have not soiled their white robes with the blood of the innocent, those who remain pure I will never blot out the from the book of life, but will acknowledge that name before my Father and his angels. To the ones who refuse to defile themselves with the poisons of this age I will give them fruit to eat from the tree of life.

Whoever has ears, let them hear what the Spirit says to the churches.”

The Rapture: The Biggest Sham Going in American Christianity

We humans really seem to want to know the future, especially when it comes to the end of the world.

On my sabbatical this summer, I visited Delphi in central Greece.  It was an ancient religious site known for having an oracle who could provide information (for the right price) to those seeking to know the future.  It was probably originally dedicated to the Greek goddess Gaia ('Mother Earth"), but around 800 B.C.E. became a religious site dedicated to Apollo.  Wealthy travelers from around the known world journeyed to Delphi to offer extravagant treasures to the oracle in exchange for her oracles.  Large treasuries were built around the site to hold all the riches.  Delphi became so popular and so rich, it hosted the Pythian Games, similar to the ancient Olympic games.  

The Oracle of Delphi was a young girl, probably in her teens, cared for by the priests of Apollo.  Our guide showed us how a stream had flowed under the temple, most likely carrying noxious vapors from deep in the earth.  The priests essentially got the Oracle high on the fumes so she would make her pronouncements.  Since the words of the Oracle didn't make any sense, the priests would interpret them--again for a hefty donation.  The site was left to ruin once Christianity became the official religion of the Roman Empire and the Christian rulers developed their own ways of receiving treasure.

It seems a part of human nature to want to know the future, to somehow control it and bend fate to our own ends.  Throughout human history, people have paid everyone from carnival fortune tellers to televangelists to cult leaders promising to know the secrets of the future.  Probably the biggest sham of all going now in America is taught every week at thousands of churches across America: the Rapture.

If you grew up Catholic, mainline Protestant or another faith background other than Evangelical Christian, then you may have no clue about the Rapture.  When you do find out what it involves, you may scoff, but trust me, belief in the Rapture is driving everything from New York Times best-selling books to survival gear to the foreign policy of the United States.

In its most basic form, the Rapture entails a belief that near the end of the world, Christ will snatch up to heaven all true Christians.  Following that "Rapture" there will be seven years of "Tribulation" where those who remain on earth will be under control of Satan and the Antichrist.  The humans who were not raptured can convert to Christianity during this time.  After those seven years of "Tribulation" Satan and the Antichrist will get sent to hell and any humans who did not become "true" Christians will be sent to hell for eternity too.

You may have heard of the best-selling books in the Left Behind series, which spawned board games, children's books, and a series of bad movies starring Kirk Cameron--yes, that Kirk Cameron from the late 80's and early 90's TV show Growing Pains.  Just like the priests of Apollo in ancient Delphi, the Left Behind series made millionaires out of its authors Tim LaHaye and Jerry B. Jenkins who interpret the obscure "oracles" of Bible prophecy.  Jenkins writes the prose, but LaHaye is the "scholar" of prophecy.  Tim LaHaye and his wife Beverly have been long-time leaders in the Religious Right, especially the so-called "purity movement" which stresses women being submissive to their husbands, women's worth being found only in their ability to reproduce, and absolutely no-premarital sex, especially the responsibility of girls since they have the power to tempt good boys with their feminine wiles.  It seems proponents of the Rapture always also are proponents of a patriarchal understanding of gender and sexuality.

The major problem with the Rapture is that it's not biblical.  If one opens up their Bible, you won't find the Rapture anywhere in it.  Instead, the Rapture has to be created by cutting and pasting particular verses from Paul's first letter to the Thessalonians, some apocalyptic sayings of Jesus in the Gospels and generous slices of the book of Daniel and the Book of Revelation.  It's a pastiche of Bible verses taken out of their original contexts to create a false doctrine that has dreadful real world consequences.

Lutheran New Testament scholar Barbara R. Rossing has this to say about the really bad theology of the Rapture:

"The Rapture is a racket. Whether prescribing a violent script for Israel or survivalism in the United States, this theology distorts God's vision for the world. In place of healing, the Rapture proclaims escape. In place of Jesus' blessing of peacemakers, the Rapture voyeuristically glorifies violence and war. In place of Revelation's vision of the Lamb's vulnerable self-giving love, the Rapture celebrates the lion-like wrath of the Lamb. This theology is not biblical. We are not Raptured off the earth, nor is God. No, God has come to live in the world through Jesus. God created the world. God loves the world, and God will never leave the world behind."

Millions of Evangelical Christians are taught each Sunday that the Rapture is the only true understanding of the future.  Yet, the Rapture was only created less than 200 years ago by an Anglo-Irish preacher named John Nelson Darby.  Darby didn't gain too wide of a following in his lifetime, but a con-artist named Cyrus Scofield took Darby's thought and included it in a special edition of the King James Bible.  The Scofield Reference Bible contained notes and cross references to explain Darby's thoughts about the Rapture along with other fundamentalist beliefs such as a literal six-day Creation and that the Earth was created in 4004 B.C.E.  It offered a "scientific" text to refute the popular writings of scholars like Charles Darwin.  In events like the Scopes Monkey Trial in Dayton, TN the Scofield Reference Bible was brought out as evidence to refute the falsehoods of modernity.  It's popularity spread across the nation and it remains one of the best-selling books in U.S. history.

The belief in the Rapture--that the earth is headed for a cataclysmic end as a part of God's fore-ordained plan is behind Evangelical Christianity's opposition to fighting climate change.  (Why care for the earth if it's all going up in a fireball any day now?)  It's behind Evangelical Christianity's support for the modern state of Israel, even if that means the oppression of fellow Christians in Palestine.  (Their reading of Revelation says that the creation of the modern state of Israel in 1948 is a fulfillment of prophecy, because Israel is mentioned in their end-times scenario.  Oh--and all the Jews will either convert to Christianity or be sent to hell after the Tribulation!)  The belief in the Rapture is also why so many Evangelical Christians grow up traumatized.

Imagine being taught from birth that at any moment Christ could Rapture all true Christians up to heaven and if you aren't one of them, then you will experience seven years of hell on earth under the rule of Satan and the Antichrist.  Take a quick search of the internet for "rapture trauma" or "rapture anxiety" and you will find tales of people with psychological issues because they grew up fearing the would be "left behind."  Barbara R. Rossing tells the story in her book The Rapture Exposed of when one of her students came and told her about his ongoing anxiety and depression.  He had traced it to coming home as a child to find his mother, who was usually there waiting for him, not at home.  Raised on the Rapture, he immediately assumed his mother had been raptured and he was left alone to face the Tribulation.  He continues to suffer from issues associated with abandonment, shame and fear.  

Religious abuse is a real thing.  How we talk about God, the future and the worth of each person matters not just for the future of our planet but also for the psychological well-being of people all around us every day.

This Sunday I will preach a sermon titled "The Rapture is Bull Crap."  It's not just an explanation of a popular Christian belief that is just plain awful, but it will be a discussion of what kind of God are we worshiping anyway?  If the God Christians claim loves everyone is going to leave those of us behind who haven't said the magic words of prayer or done enough good deeds to suffer in some kind of mixture of Mad Max and the Saw movies, then is that God really loving?  I'd say that kind of God isn't worth worshiping.  That kind of God isn't the one I have come to know as demonstrated in the self-sacrifice of Jesus Christ.  That kind of God offers no hope for our future, only salvation for a few and destruction for everyone and everything else.

I believe in a God who doesn't leave anyone behind and who journeys with us into the future.  The God I believe in is with us all the way and invites us into creating a new and better world.  I don't need to spend my money trying to predict the future; all I need to do is trust that my loving God, as demonstrated in Jesus Christ, will never leave me or you or any of us.

Beginning last Sunday, Bethany and I are preachingt a sermon series for progressive Christians on the Book of Revelation.  If you weren't able to join us in person, check out the KCUCC Facebook page for videos of any sermons you missed.

• Last Sunday I talked about Revelation as a refutation of "empire, both the Roman Empire and the ways our nation functions as an empire today.  
• On October 13, I'll preach about the modern belief in "The Rapture" (that Jesus will come and take up to heaven all the good Christians as in The Left Behind series books) is really not biblical at all.  
• On October 20, I'll share about Christ's letters to the Seven Churches in Asia Minor, modern day Turkey, and imagine what a letter from Jesus to contemporary American Christians might be like.  
• Finally, on October 27, Bethany will preach on how the message of Revelation does not promote the idea of letting our current world burn, but rather calls us to care for God's creation.  

Grace and Peace,

Chase

Thoughts About the Book of Revelation (for Progressive Christians)

Here's a couple of pictures taken on the Greek Island of Patmos.

Prior to visiting Patmos on my sabbatical this summer, I didn't get what the big deal was with the Greek islands.  Now I get it; they are pretty incredible--at least the one I got to see.  I didn't visit any of the big tourist islands featured on travel web sites, which was fine by me.  Patmos only has about 3000 residents, and while cruise ships do disembark tourists there, it manages to hold onto a simple yet charming vibe.  I was only able to stay there for about 24 hours, but it felt like an escape from the cacophony of the rest of the world.

Patmos is a strange place to receive a vision about the end of the world, but the island's modern economy is based around tourism, largely driven by its only real claim to fame as the site where John received his vision of the Apocalypse, or as we English speakers call it, Revelation, the final book of the Christian Bible.  Today you can walk up the ridge from the bay to the Monastery of St. John the Theologian and visit the Cave of the Apocalypse where tradition says John had the revelation. The cave is a lovely place, as religious sites go, but I kept looking out the windows at the vistas of the island and sea around it.  I'm not sure what Patmos was like 1900 years ago, but 21st century Patmos is so quaint that nobody on it should be thinking about a cataclysm.   Yet, John, did have a vision or revelation and western civilization hasn't been the same since.

Among the many beautiful paintings on the walls of the chapel connected to the Cave of the Apocalypse  is this one of John receiving  his vision.  As with a lot of Greek Orthodox religious sites, no photography was allowed inside.    I purchased this icon of it at the monastery gift shop.

The book of Revelation--note there is no "S" at the end of the title!--is titled in Greek "Apokalypsis".  Although the modern English word "apocalypse" has come to mean a world-ending cataclysm (e.g. "zombie apocalypse"), the Greek word means only "revelation".  There's very little certain about John's Revelation; even the identity of John is debatable.  Christian tradition says that the John who had the revelation was John, the son of Zebedee, one of the twelve apostles, but the writing itself makes no such claim.  Most scholars today, believe John of Patmos and John the apostle were not the same person.  Who was John of Patmos?  As with so many things about Revelation, anybody who says they know for sure shouldn't be trusted.

If you grew up Catholic or Mainline Protestant, you may have little experience with Revelation.  I grew up Southern Baptist, so my childhood and teen years were filled with it.  My father might have been a Southern Baptist minister, but he was a moderate educated one.  He steered me away from the popular books of the time that claimed to know the date of the end of the world, such as Hal Lindsey's The Late Great Planet Earth.  I can recall sharing with him some wild interpretation of Revelation I had read somewhere and having him patiently explain how the symbolism of Revelation had more to do with the first century Roman Empire than it did a nuclear war with the Soviet Union.  I recall being disappointed that I didn't have the secret to understanding the end of the world.  In spite of my father's tame interpretations of Revelation, I couldn't help but be exposed to all kinds of fanciful theories about the identity of the Antichrist (Mikhail Gorbachev? Ronald Reagan?), the "mark of the beast" (ATM codes? Social Security Numbers?) and depictions of Jesus as a blood-soaked warrior riding to the Battle of Armageddon.  Sunday School classes, church camps and zealous revival preachers all offered me tantalizing images of the end times.  It was like a Christian science fiction novel, except I believed it was real.

As I grew older, I majored in religion in college, went to seminary and spent three years in a New Testament Ph.D. program before leaving to become a pastor.  Along the way my theology changed and so did my opinion of the Book of Revelation.  I grew to dislike its violent imagery, often sexist depictions of women, and portrayal of Jesus not as a non-violent embodiment of love but a merciless warrior who cuts down God's enemies.  I wondered why Revelation was even in the Bible?  I learned that I'm in good company.  In the early centuries of the church many Christians did not consider Revelation to be scripture and it was a controversial decision to allow it into the Bible at all.  During the Protestant Reformation, no less than Martin Luther wanted to cut it from the canon.  Given the amount of trouble Revelation has caused from crusaders using it to justify massacres in the Middle Ages to complicating American Middle East policy today, I still find sympathy with Christians who would rather ignore the last book of the Bible.

Over the years, I've found that most of the time when I have a problem with something in the Bible, it's not the actual scripture itself I don't like but rather the popular interpretation of that scripture.  The same is true for Revelation.  When understood in its own historical context, a time when Christians felt under attack by a society and government hostile to their view of reality, (whether John of Patmos and his audience were actually persecuted or just felt that way is something scholars debate today) rather than as a road map to an immanent end of time, this obscure piece of writing has gems of wisdom to offer us.

In recent decades, scholars have come to understand the imagery of John's Revelation as referring to the Roman Empire.  Specifically John's vision offers a counter-narrative to the idea ever-present in his time that Caesar, emperor of the Roman Empire, was not just a god but THE God.  Everything in culture from coins to art to civic ceremonies emphasized the worldview that Caesar stood above all.  John's Revelation declares that God is over all and God is creating a new world based on righteousness and equality rather than on exploitation and greed.  Many scholars have said Revelation pits Christ against empire.

Mennonite Bible scholar, J. Nelson Kraybill, says this about empires, ancient and contemporary:

"Empires seduce and intimidate because they are beautiful and powerful. They also generate rituals, symbols, and icons that reinforce their aura of legitimacy. Rituals and symbols of empire, such as coins, flags, patriotic events, and national heroes, become so pervasive in the culture that they unconsciously shape our attitudes and actions. Christian worship of God and the Lamb is essential to counter the spirit of violence, greed, and arrogance that undergirds empire. Worship reminds us that our allegiance is to the global reign of God, not primarily to nation, ethnic group, or class."

I began to take note of these more recent interpretations of Revelation in the early 2000's when during the George W. Bush presidency the United States launched two simultaneous wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.  In a time when those who questioned the validity of going to war were called unpatriotic, if not traitors, I heard echoes of Roman authorities disparaging the early Christians' pacifism.  As evidence mounted that our government had instigated a horrifying regime of torture and its defenders justified it on the grounds of national security, I heard echoes of Roman governors use of violence to enforce the Pax Romana or "Roman Peace".  

The echoes of Revelation's rejection of the world most understood in its day continue to strike a chord in me when I struggle to move against the tide of our culture today.  As our nation continues to make both income inequality and climate change worse around the globe, I have grown to long for the new world being created by God.  Like John's audience, I feel like this vision of a world where balance with nature is restored and all are welcome in God's kin-dom can be pretty hard to believe in.  Yet, when I'm looking for hope I begin to see the appeal of John's Revelation not only as a refutation of the Roman Empire of his day but also a rejection of the American Empire of our day.

There's another way to read the Book of Revelation besides as a bloody cataclysm where God delights in the earth's destruction at some not too distant future date.  We can read it as an invitation to work for a better world here and now.  We can see in it an expression of hope for a better world by the oppressed in every time.  We can hold fast to its declaration that no human ruler, president or dictator has the final word on the fate of our world, but rather that power  only belongs to God.  

Beginning Sunday, October 6, Rev. Bethany Meier and I will present a sermon series for progressive Christians on the Book of Revelation.  

• This Sunday I will talk about Revelation as a refutation of "empire, both the Roman Empire and the ways our nation functions as an empire today.  
• On October 13, I'll preach about the modern belief in "The Rapture" (that Jesus will come and take up to heaven all the good Christians as in The Left Behind series books) is really not biblical at all.  
• On October 20, I'll share about Christ's letters to the Seven Churches in Asia Minor, modern day Turkey, and imagine what a letter from Jesus to contemporary American Christians might be like.  
• Finally, on October 27, Bethany will preach on how the message of Revelation does not promote the idea of letting our current world burn, but rather calls us to care for God's creation.  

I hope you will make a point of joining us and determine for yourself whether the problems you may have with Revelation really aren't with the book itself but with the lousy ways it has been interpreted.  (Our services are live streamed on our church's Facebook page, and if you're reading this post sometime after October 2019, you can still find videos of the sermons there as well.)

Grace and Peace,

Chase