Closing the Gap: Right Answers Are Not Enough

 He knew the right answer. Jesus said so. His struggle was not in what he knew; it was in how he lived. There was a gap between what he knew and what he did, between the truth he knew and how that truth shaped his life. It seems this man's problem is one we all experience. 

The gospel of Luke tells the story in Luke 10:25-37. A lawyer questioned Jesus: "what must I do to inherit eternal life?" (Luke 10:25) Rather than answering the man's question, Jesus invited him to answer his own question, based on what he knew of the Mosaic law. After all, as a lawyer, his training was in the study of the law. Based on his training, the man gave the right answer: love God, love neighbor. 

Love is the right answer. The essence of eternal life - the life that is eternal, God's kind of life - is love. Love God, love neighbor. These two are inseparable. We love God by loving our neighbor. We taste eternal life by choosing to love our neighbor. 

The lawyer's problem - and ours! - is not in knowing what to do. He knew the right answer - as do we. His struggle - and ours - is in living the truth he knew. He struggled to do what he knew to do. He struggled to allow the truth he knew to guide what he did and shape how he lived. 

The gap - the gap between knowing and doing, between having the right answer and doing the right thing - is a part of our human condition. 

The gap in the lawyer's experience is reflected in his original question. It is also reflected in his follow up question: "who is my neighbor?" (Luke 10:29) The gospel writer identified the lawyer's motivation in asking the second question: "wanting to justify himself" (Luke 10:29). The lawyer knew in his heart that, although he knew the right answer, he was not doing what he knew to do. He wanted Jesus to make his inner discomfort go away. He wanted Jesus to reassure him. He wanted Jesus to tell him what he was doing was enough. 

He should have stopped when Jesus assured him he had given the right answer. 

Jesus answered the lawyer's second question with a parable - the parable we know as The Parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:30-37).  This familiar parable speaks to the heart of our struggle.

• The question "who is my neighbor?" was the lawyer's attempt to define who it was he was required to love. How large did he have to draw his circle of love? How large did it have to be? The traditional rabbinical answer to the question was "other Jews." In other words, the man's circle of love had to include other Jews, but not anyone who was not a Jew. The standard answer among the lawyer's circle was "those who followed the law the way they interpreted it." All others were excluded, even if they were Jews. Our answer - like the lawyer's - is generally "those like me." The question "who is my neighbor?" is just another way of asking "Who can I exclude?" 
• The man in the story who was attacked and left for dead was unidentified. He was stripped of everything that might have indicated his identity. He was simply another person, hurting, in need, and unable to help himself. Our response to another - loving or excluding, accepting or rejecting - is generally based on something about the other person: nationality, group identity, social standing, economic status, educational level, religious belief, sexual orientation. Jesus's parable teaches us that our response to another is determined by something about us, not about the other. Our acceptance or rejection of another is a reflection of what is in our heart. 
• The hero of the story was unexpected - a despised Samaritan. The expected hero would have been the priest or Levite, those holding the highest social standings in their religious world. This shift in the hero role drives home the point: what you know and believe is not important unless it translates into compassion for others. The truth we know has little value unless it guides what we do and shapes how we live. 
• Jesus turned the lawyer's question around, asking "Which of these three was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?" (Luke 10:36) Jesus's question changed the identity of the neighbor from being the one who received love to the one who gave love. 
• Love is expressed in compassion. It is seen in how we respond to a person in need: awareness, personal involvement, sharing of what we have and what we know, giving our financial resources, helping the other "get back on his feet."

Like the lawyer, we know the teaching of scripture. We can give the right answer. Our struggle - like his - is in living the truth we know. We have a gap between what we know and what we do.

And, like the lawyer, we are subconsciously aware of the gap and uncomfortable because of it. Like him, we attempt to find ways to ease our discomfort with the gap. 

One way we deal with the gap is through doing more Bible study. We who call ourselves Christians love to do Bible study. We are always looking for another resource to use to study the Bible. Now don't misunderstand what I am saying. I am a strong advocate for good Bible study. I am, after all, a teacher and spiritual guide. I love to lead Bible studies. The issue is not Bible study. The issue is the purpose of our study - our objective in studying the Bible. 

Too often, our Bible study is the way we validate what we already believe. Rather than allowing the truth of God to shape what we believe, we use the Bible to justify what we already believe. It is interesting how often we who call ourselves Christian proclaim "the Bible says" to justify our attitudes toward and exclusion of others. We don't approve of something about the other, so we do not consider them a neighbor we are to love. We use the Bible to validate our choice not to love them. When we use Bible study to validate what we already believe, we make "right belief" (orthodoxy) the litmus test for acceptance and belonging. The way we read the Bible broadens the gap rather closing it. 

Good Bible study closes the gap between what we know and what we do. Good Bible study will produce two things in our lives. 

First, good Bible study will help us know God and the ways of God. Jesus - how he lived, what he taught - is the primary source for knowing God and the ways of God. Knowing God and the ways of God nurtures our relationship with God. It guides how we think about God and how we relate to God. 

The second thing good Bible study produces is spiritual transformation. Good Bible study is foundational to our spiritual growth. According to Paul, spiritual transformation comes through the renewing of the mind (Romans 12:2; see also Ephesians 4:22-24 and Colossians 3:9-11). Learning the truth of God transforms the way we think. The transformation in how and what we think leads to a transformation of our hearts - the attitudes and spirit out of which we live. The transformation of our hearts leads to a change in how we live and what we do. The truth we learn guides what we do and shapes how we live. Of course, this entire transformation process is the work of God's Spirit in our lives. 

Unless our Bible study guides what we do and shapes how we live, it is pointless. It becomes just another way of justifying ourselves, avoiding the gap between what we know and what we do. It becomes another way to avoid loving our neighbor. 

Bible study - done right - closes the gap between what we know and how we live. It is foundational to becoming more like Christ and to living the way Jesus lived. 

Unity - What's at Stake

With the January 6 assault on the Capitol and the inauguration of Joe Biden as the 46th president on January 20, our nation survived a major constitutional crisis. While we enjoy a sigh of relief and voice a prayer of gratitude, one of the major underlying factors in the crisis has yet to be addressed. It lives like a silent cancer in our nation's soul, robbing it of vitality and health. It must be recognized and addressed if we are to survive as a nation. Thankfully, the Church has something to say about the issue. The teachings of Jesus and the Apostle Paul give us guidance in how to address it. The issue: how do we deal with diversity.

Diversity refers to how we are different. 

We humans have always struggled with diversity. We as a nation - true to our human nature - have struggled since our inception with how to deal with our differences. The common way we humans deal with diversity - and the way we as a nation have followed - is through tribalism. 

Tribalism is based upon sameness. We associate with those like us. Tribalism operates out of us-them thinking. It views those who are different as a threat to us and ours. Associating with those like us provides us a sense of identity along with a sense of security. 

We don't have to look far to find this kind of tribal thinking in our history. In the first century of our nation's history, immigrants naturally sought out others from their homeland. Pockets of different nationalities could be found throughout the country. The influence of these pockets are still evident today: Italians in Chicago, Norwegians in Minnesota, Irish in the Appalachians, Germans in central Texas, Asians on the West coast, African-Americans in the South. The list goes on and on - traces of tribalism that still exists today. The various denominations within the Church reflect this tribalism.

Tribalism's us-them thinking is not just about who we associate with. It also creates social ranking. Us-them thinking naturally leads to better than-less than thinking. Given the differences in how we think and how we do things and how we live, whose way is right? Which way is better? Naturally, each tribe believes "my way" is right. That means my group is better than - superior to - the other ... and, by association, I am, as well! The other is less than - a step below me. In other words, living out of tribalism naturally creates inequality in society. One tribe becomes dominant. Its dominance is based upon power and wealth. (The two - power and wealth - always go together. Those who control the money supply have power over those who don't.) The dominant tribe calls the shots. Others adapt to its will.

From the beginning, the dominant tribe in our history has been white men of wealth - land owners and business owners. Their control of the land and the businesses gave them control of the money supply. All others had to adapt to them because they held the power. 

During the 20th century, the power of white men began to be challenged. In the early part of the century, women demanded the right to vote. Labor unions challenged the power of the corporate owners. The Civil Rights Movement advocated for rights and opportunities African-Americans had been denied. Migrant workers, led by Caesar Chavez, picked for better working conditions and higher pay. Women's right to vote expanded into women's liberation. LGBTQ people began to push for recognition, protection, and equal rights under the law. All the while, immigration from non-white countries increased. The Islamic presence increased. 

Diverse groups - rather than being content to adapt to the will of the dominant, white male tribe - demanded to be recognized and honored. They refused to live under white male dominance. As diversity increased, a way of life was threatened: one dominated by white men, by wealth and affluence .. and by Christians. 

The January 6 assault on the Capitol building was a predictable push back against the social changes that our nation has been experiencing for the past 100 years. It was an attempt to reassert the old way of life - one dominated by white men and by a Christian worldview. This way of life has been given a name: white supremacy. Unfortunately, many of us cannot see this fear of and resistance to diversity in terms of white supremacy. We deflect reality, viewing the assault on the Capitol as the work of far right extremists and domestic terrorists.

 And that's where the teachings of Jesus and Paul come into play. Jesus refused to live by the social distinctions of his day, embracing each person as a beloved child of God. Paul grasped this great truth and proclaimed, "in Christ Jesus, you are all children of God through faith. There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male or female" (Galatians 3:26, 28). Colossians 3:11 proclaims that in Christ "there is no longer Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave and free" (Colossians 3:11). Both Jesus and Paul call us beyond the social distinctions created by tribalism with its us-them, better than-less than thinking. 

In 1 Corinthians 12, Paul argued that diversity is God's design, a gift of the Spirit. These God-designed, Spirit-given differences allow each person to contribute something to the greater good. They allow each person to have value and place within the fellowship. And, like the various parts of the body, they allow the fellowship to function as a coordinated body, doing the work of Christ. 

The theological term for this way of living is "unity in diversity unto community." Unity is a oneness that is not based on sameness. It honors the differences, seeing them as gifts that make the group stronger. The result is community, living together in mutually rewarding ways. 

Obviously, living out of unity in diversity unto community requires us to move beyond our inherent tribal thinking and functioning. It calls us to move beyond fear-based, anxiety-driven thinking and living. It calls for more mature thinking and functioning. It calls for a radical change of heart. It calls for the transforming work of the Spirit. 

It is popular to speak of the United States as a Christian nation, founded on Christian principles. (Whether that is true or not is a topic for another blog post.) Perhaps it is time we as a nation live out of Christian truth rather than tribal mentality. Or, perhaps, it is time for churches to live out of this Christian truth, modeling its validity for the rest of the nation. 

If we are to survive as a nation, we must learn to live with our diversity, seeing it as a gift rather than as a threat. We must find our way to unity. There's too much at stake. 

It's Not What You Think

 It's not what you think that is the problem. It's how you think that is. How you think governs what you think. 

The storming of the Capitol building on January 6 was fueled by the belief in widespread voter fraud in the 2020 election, resulting in the election being stolen from Donald Trump and unlawfully given to Joe Biden. Although state officials - many of them elected Republicans - verified the election as the most transparent and secure election in recent history, those who stormed the Capitol dismissed their claims as lies. Multiple lawsuits claiming fraudulent voting were repeatedly dismissed by the courts - including the Supreme Court - for a lack of evidence. Nonetheless, those who assaulted the Capitol acted on their unswerving belief in election fraud and a stolen election.  

That is what they thought.  

Let me be clear: what they thought was a problem! What they thought led them to plan and execute a violent attempt to prevent the congressional certification of the election results, thereby stopping the steal and preserving the presidency of Donald Trump. What they thought led to an armed insurrection against our constitutionally designed democratic process in order to - in their minds - protect our democratic way of life. What they thought resulted in an assault on and attempted take over of our Capitol building, the center of and symbol of our democratic way of life. What they thought led them to plan to arrest and execute duly elected officials - including the Vice-president of the United States - as traitors to their country. Ironically, what they did threatened to destroy the very thing they proclaimed they were protecting: our nation. But they did not see it - could not see it - that way. In their minds, they were patriots defending their nation. 

Certainly, what they thought was a problem. But what they thought was simply the natural result of how they thought. How they thought was the deeper issue. How they thought was the underlying problem.

I describe their thinking as rigid thinking. Rigid thinking is grounded in the belief that I know the truth - truth that others do not or can not or will not see. It is the belief that I am right and others are wrong. Those who stormed the Capitol believed they were right and in the right in spite of what elected officials and the courts said. 

Rigid thinking is closed-minded thinking. It is not open to any position that challenges what it believes to be true. It is not teachable. It is unable to learn. It is unwilling to grow or change. Rigid thinking reinforces itself with echo chambers that repeat and reinforce what I already think. We see this reality in how those who stormed the Capitol rejected what they called "fake news" and clung to conspiracy theories that reinforce their beliefs. 

Rigid thinking operates out of us-them thinking. It divides the world into those who think the way I think and those who don't. It is an underlying factor in any polarization - including the polarization in our nation and The UMC. Those who stormed the Capitol viewed those who accepted the validity of the election as traitors and enemies. 

Rigid thinking produces critical, judgmental, condescending attitudes toward those who don't think the way I think. It leads us to demonize and dehumanize those who are different, blinding us to who they are as a person or even as a human being. It allows us to place all blame on the other for the problems we see. Those who stormed the Capitol thought they were saving our nation from the hand of traitors and enemies. Rigid thinking is accompanied by a not-so-subtle arrogance. This arrogance allows us to discount and dismiss what the other thinks.

Rigid thinking is emotionally-driven, anxiety-based thinking. It reflects deep-seated fear. It is not really thinking. Thinking implies the use of the intellect, logic, and reason. Thinking implies dealing with observable, verifiable reality. Rigid thinking is rooted in emotional reactivity. Slogans and sound bites (e.g., Blue Lives Matter, Back the Blue, Defund the Police) are designed to stir this emotional reactivity and block clear thinking. Those who stormed the Capitol were acting out of fear - fear that they were losing their nation and their way of life. Because it is emotionally driven, rigid thinking cannot be changed by reason or facts. Confrontation only reinforces the rigidity of thought.

At its core, rigid thinking is about identity. We tie our sense of identity to what we think is true. We look for narratives that validate what we think and, thereby, our sense of who we are. Our sense of identity gives us our sense of value and standing, our sense of place and security. Any challenge to what I think is a challenge to my identity - my sense of who I am, my sense of value and standing, my sense of place and security. Those who stormed the Capitol viewed themselves as victims who had been wronged. They were defending who they understood we as a nation are because their sense of identity was wrapped up in that understanding. (In my opinion, their understanding can be described as Christian nationalism that protects the privileges of white supremacy - their understanding of who we are as a nation, their identity in that nation.)   

And, on top of all of that I have identified about it, rigid thinking blinds us to ourselves. It blocks self-awareness. Without self-awareness, we never really think. We just react emotionally. 

Now here's the thing about all that I have described: how those who stormed the Capitol think is how we all naturally think. Rigid thinking is not limited to those who stormed the Capitol. We all do it - those on the right, those on the left. We all like to believe we are intelligent, rational, and logical. The reality is our thinking is innately emotionally-driven thinking. It is driven by deep-seated anxiety about who we are. We live with deep-seated anxiety about our value and standing, about our place and security in the world. And that anxiety colors our thinking. Rigid thinking is an inherent part of our human condition. 

And that's where being a follower of Jesus comes into play. At the heart of being a follower of Jesus is the willingness to learn. Being a follower of Jesus moves us beyond this inherent, emotionally-driven way of thinking and reacting. 

The gospel of Matthew records the invitation Jesus extends to each of us: "Come to me, all you that are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble of heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light" (Matthew 11:28-30 NRSV). 

 Being a follower of Jesus is about learning. Using the image of a yoke, Jesus invites us: "Learn from me." A yoke is about learning. In Jesus's day, a young ox would be trained by yoking it with an older one. The young ox would learn by sharing the yoke with an experienced, trained ox. It would learn from the other. Jesus drew on that image to invite us to learn from him. 

Learning from Jesus is discovering Truth with a capital T. It is learning God's Truth. It is learning Truth that grows out of and aligns with God's character. This Truth is untainted by fear. Learning this Truth is a never-ending process. There is always more to God and to God's Truth than I know. In addition, learning the Truth Jesus taught about God leads us to live the ways of God in our own lives. 

Learning requires humility. Humility is the opposite of the arrogant nature of rigid thinking and its "I know the truth" mentality. Humility is being teachable. It is the willingness to learn. It is being open to new understanding, to greater understanding. It is being willing to see things from a different perspective. 

A teachable spirit - being willing to learn - opens us to growth. It allows us to move beyond where we are to something more, to something greater. It allows us to change. It leads us into maturity. Rigid thinking keeps us stuck emotionally, relationally, and spiritually. 

Jesus's invitation to learn from him included a promise that was repeated two different times: "I will give you rest; you will find rest for your souls." Learning from Jesus leads to rest. Rest is the opposite of our anxiety-driven thinking and living. It is freedom from fear and the fear-based striving that marks our lives. We experience rest as we learn to think differently. In learning to think from the perspective of God and the character of God and the ways of God, we gain a new identity. We learn to see ourselves through the eyes of God rather than through the lens of fear. We learn to live as a beloved child of God, called to be a follower of Jesus, gifted and empowered by the Spirit. We discover our value and standing, our place and security in being God's partners, doing God's work in the world. When we live out of this God-shaped identity, others are no longer a threat to us. We are able to see others through the eyes of God, too. 

Many of those who stormed the Capitol believed they were doing God's will. They asked God's blessing on what they did and God's protection as they did it. They prayed for God to defeat their enemies and give them success. But, sadly, neither what they thought nor how they thought reflected the teachings of Jesus. As a result, what they did was at odds with what Jesus taught. 

When we learn from Jesus, what we think changes. Even more, when we learn from Jesus, how we think changes. When what we think and how we think changes, we change. 

 (Question for another time: do we use our churches as echo chambers designed to reinforce what we already think, reassuring us that we are right, and making us comfortable OR as places of learning that lead us to grow and change?) 

In the Name of Jesus

 In this post, I share my thinking about the assault on the Capitol building this past Wednesday, January 6. I have refrained from doing so until now for a number of reasons - not because I have not had thoughts and feelings and reactions. Like all of us, I have had plenty of thoughts, emotions, and reactions. I have postponed this blog so that my thoughts, emotions, and reactions do not contribute to the chaos that is already in play. The fire that is burning does not need more gasoline poured on it. My intent today is to help us think from a theological perspective about what happened rather than from a political perspective (which is generally reactionary, inflammatory, and polarizing). 

The aspect of the assault that I want to address is that it was done in the name of Jesus. Many of those in the march-that-turned-into-an-assault-on-the-Capitol carried signs bearing the name of Jesus and spoke of Jesus. For them, this march was an expression of their faith. They did it in the name of Jesus. 

Sadly, what they did in the name of Jesus bore no resemblance to the Jesus of scripture or to the kingdom he proclaimed and lived. 

• They used power to intimidate, control, and destroy. In other words, they used power the way the world uses power - over, down against the other for personal benefit. A servant spirit governed how Jesus used power. He used his power to serve the other - alongside of, on behalf of, at great personal cost. And he taught his followers to live out of that same servant spirit. See Mark 10:41-45. Sadly, we who call ourselves Christian have struggled to embrace this teaching. We much prefer to use power the way the world uses power. We like being great according to the world's standards, not the standards of the kingdom.
• The underlying spirit of their actions - rooted in their beliefs - was one of arrogance. They knew the truth. They were right and thus they were in the right in what they did. They were defending truth and our nation. Such arrogance is the opposite of the spirit of humility that Jesus taught and that is a mark of his followers. 
•  Their actions were self-serving. Those involved would argue they were doing it to save our nation. They saw it as self-sacrifice for the nation. In reality, their actions were self-serving, done to prove that they were right. They could see the truth no one else could see. They alone knew the truth. They alone could prevent our nation's descent into destruction (socialism). Their actions were self-exalting. (Notice how they gloated in the photos and videos that have been posted.) Jesus, too, spoke of truth, but his truth was rooted in the nature of God. The truth he proclaimed reflected the ways of God. The truth he proclaimed led to life for all, not just for me-and-mine.
• They intended to punish their enemies. At one point, the crowd chanted "Hang Mike Pence." A gallows was erected on the Capitol grounds. Was it symbolic or intended to be used? One man carried zip-ties to bind those they intended to capture. Jesus taught us to love our enemies (Matthew 5:44-48; Luke 6:27-36). Jesus never stopped trying to reach those who viewed him as an enemy. Even when he knew they were plotting his death, he continued to engage them in conversation in the Temple. Even after they nailed him to a cross, he prayed "Father, forgive them." 
• Many were self-identified white supremacists. Their enemies are the liberal left, the demoncrats, people of color, the supporters of Black Lives matter, those who want our nation to embrace greater diversity, those who were leading our nation into socialism - personified in Nancy Pelosi. Jesus embraced all people as beloved children of God. He challenged and defied the social systems of his day that divided people into us-them, better than-less than categories. 
• The objective of this assault was to protect a hierarchical way of life in which white men hold power and call the shots. All others - people of color and women - are subservient to their wishes and demands. Jesus challenged this way of ordering society - in his resistance to the Temple hierarchy, the Pharisees, Herod, and Rome. The ways of Jesus lead his followers beyond social distinctions. See Galatians 3:28 and Colossians 3:11. 
• An underlying belief of the assault is that peace is only possible when power is used to control others, particularly those who are viewed as a threat to the way things are (or they way we think they should be). This way of thinking is what led the religious leaders to join hands with the political establishment to have Jesus killed. In his Palm Sunday entry into Jerusalem, Jesus challenged this way of thinking and living, offering an alternative way to peace - the way of the servant. 
• Their actions were violent - using power against others, to destroy. Jesus lived and taught non-violence. See again his teachings in Matthew 5 and Luke 6. Power used against others - violence - always carries in it the seeds of rebellion. Violence breeds violence. Jesus taught a different way. 

What they did in the name of Jesus had nothing in common with the way Jesus lived or the things Jesus taught. Consider the beatitudes of Jesus's Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5:3-10).

• the poor in spirit - those who recognize their own brokenness and resulting spiritual bankruptcy. Those who stormed the Capitol could only see how others were wrong. They consider themselves as doing nothing wrong. 
• those who mourn - those who see the brokenness of the world and grieve it. Those who stormed the Capitol were angry and belligerent about the wrongs they perceived they had experienced. They were blind to the wrongs others had experienced. Grief was not a part of their experience. Their actions contributed to the brokenness of the world. 
• the meek - those who gladly yield their power to the guiding hand of the Spirit. (The Greek word translated as meek is used to describe a stallion which has been trained to respond to his rider's direction.) Those who stormed the Capitol used power arrogantly, to express their anger and resentment. Believing they were victims of wrong, their use of power was out of control.
• those who hunger and thirst for righteousness - those who long to know and live the ways of God. Those who stormed the Capitol were living their own fear-based, anger-fueled ways of thinking and living.
• the merciful - those who have experienced God's mercy and, in turn, extend that mercy to others, particularly the most powerless and vulnerable. Those who stormed the Capitol wanted revenge. They were out to overthrow and punish those they believed had stolen the election.
• the pure in heart - those whose heart has been cleansed by the grace of God and the work of the Spirit. Their heart is not clouded with mixed motives. Those who stormed the Capitol believed they were acting out of pure motives, to save our nation. Their actions were self-serving and self-exalting.
• the peacemakers - those who wage peace in the world, not war. Those who stormed the Capitol waged war, using power to attack and destroy those they demonized as enemies.
• those who are persecuted for righteousness - those who live out of step with the ways of the world, drawing personal attacks from a world that is threatened by those who do not conform and stay in their place. Those who stormed the Capitol acted in line with the ways of the world. 

While what these people did in the name of Jesus did not reflect who Jesus was or what he taught, it was an expression of Christian nationalism. Christian nationalism is the wedding of man-centered Christianity with the belief that our nation is the greatest nation on the earth because it is a "Christian nation." It bears God's blessing (implying that other nations do not). Christian nationalism uses God to justify our capitalistic values and way of life. It uses the Bible to treat others in a one-down position. It sanctifies war, the right to bear arms, excessive force in the name of law and order, massive incarceration, and capital punishment as Christian values. It embraced Donald Trump as God's anointed (like Cyrus in the book of Isaiah) who would usher in the End Times and help to bring about the Rapture (a religious conspiracy theory, but that's a topic for another blog). Christian nationalism is the Christianity of white supremacy. It is the Christianity of the Christian Right. The wedding of religion and political power has never born good fruit at any time in history. It will not do so today. 

Ironically, the assault on the Capitol took place on Epiphany - the day on the liturgical calendar when we celebrate the light shining in the darkness. Perhaps - if we will allow it - the dark event of the assault on the Capitol will shine light on things we need to see and address. 

Lord, in your mercy, hear our prayer - in the name of Jesus.

Epiphany, 2021 - Those Who Walk in Darkness

 This week brings us to the celebration of Epiphany (Jan. 6). The word epiphany carries the idea of light shining upon (Greek: upon + shining). Isaiah captured the image: 

The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in the land of deep darkness - on them light has shined (Isaiah 9:2).

The traditional gospel reading for Epiphany is the story of the magi, Matthew 2:1-12. The magi from the East represent the Gentiles - those who live in darkness. They do not know God or the ways of God. Guided by the star, the magi discovered the Christ child - the great light by which all see God and the ways of God. The story of the magi is Matthew's version of the Isaiah 9:2 text. The star which the magi followed led them out of darkness into an even greater light. Matthew's story proclaims the gospel: now, in Jesus, all people - Jew and Gentile - can know God and the ways of God. Now, all of us can walk in the light. 

What does living in darkness look like? What does it mean to not know God or the ways of God? 

We find an answer to our questions in the other key figure in the magi story: Herod. The magi, looking for the newborn king of the Jews, naturally went to the royal palace and to Herod, the current king. Their assumption was the newborn king was Herod's child and heir. Herod's reaction to the news of a newborn king helps us see the face of darkness. Herod is a portrait of living in darkness. 

Herod reacted to the magi's news with fear. He was threatened by the birth of a helpless child. When we walk in darkness, we live out of fear. Anxiety underlies and drives what we do. 

Herod sought to deceive the magi, pretending he too wanted to honor the child who was to be king. When we walk in darkness, pretense and deception are a recurring pattern in our relationships, displacing openness and honesty. We manipulate others for our own agendas. 

Herod's intent was to discover the child so he could kill him. He wanted to eliminate any threat to his throne. (The child was not the first Herod killed. His paranoia had already led him to kill a wife and two sons.) When we walk in darkness, we do not know how to be content with what we have or grateful for it. We live out of an unrecognized fear that we are missing out, that our lives would be so much better if ... We live with an insatiable desire for more, believing that the life we are missing is out there, in something more than we have. Like Herod, we don't want "those other people" to have what we have as though they will take away what is ours.   

When Herod realized the magi had tricked him, leaving town without communicating with him, he gave the order to kill all the children under the age of two in Bethlehem and the surrounding area. He used his power and his position to destroy the lives of others. When we walk in darkness, we use our power against others for our own advantage. We contribute to the pain of others. 

Herod's darkness was lived out through his political role. He enjoyed the privilege of being king in a hierarchical system along with the wealth, prestige, and power that went with the position. Those at the bottom of the hierarchy were excluded from and had no access to the kind of power and wealth he enjoyed. Herod used his position and power against them in order to hold onto what he had. When we walk in darkness, our political positions protect our interests with little or no regard for the powerless and most vulnerable. 

Just describing walking in darkness feels dark and oppressive.

Epiphany proclaims good news: light shines in the darkness. And that light is for all people. More good news: the power of the light is greater than the power of darkness. As John's gospel says, "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it" (John 1:5). We do not have to walk in darkness! We can walk in the light! The Spirit transforms our hearts and minds, empowering us to walk in the light!

When we walk in the light, ...

• we move beyond the power of fear and anxiety to live out of an inner disposition marked by joy and peace;
• our relationships are governed by openness and honesty - being straightforward takes the place of being manipulative;
• we live with contentment, being grateful for what we have, embracing all it has to offer;
• we live out of a servant spirit, using our power - in all its many forms - to bless and empower others;
• we become advocates for and partners with the powerless and most vulnerable in our world, in keeping with the nature of God and the preaching of the Hebrew prophets.

Jesus said, "I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life" (John 8:12). 

As this week brings us to the celebration of Epiphany, may we walk in the light!