The Sin of Empathy - America's Song

 

We are great and we are bold
we will pound you into sand
our legs our iron, our head is gold
the world is ours to command

We won't take no for an answer
we demand and we extort
and what they won't give to us
we'll just have to take by force

So it's down with mercy and out with love
stuff your feelings, we don't care
we're in charge now, that's how it is
you can complain but you won't dare

We are vain and we are blind 
God help us, but we are cruel
we've forgotten our fist love 
and rejected the golden rule

So it's down with mercy and out with love
kindness and compassion are for fools
in the empire of scorn we're building 
spite and pride are the guiding rules

Between a cliff and a burning fire
where the mob calls out for blood
when we call it the sin of empathy
you can't be surprised that we have none. 

Why I Hate America

A friend of mine recently shared on Facebook the purported results of a CNN news poll asking the question: Will you fly the American flag on July 4th?  63% of the respondents said Yes. 33% said No and the response of the other 4% is not described. (I have not investigated the accuracy or veracity of this meme – for the purposes of this post I will accept it as valid.)

In the comments his post gathered, it was suggested that the 33% not planning to fly the Stars and Stripes on July 4th must be Democrats who actually hate America, and want to see it destroyed, and that they should find someplace else to live – preferably somewhere behind President Trump’s yet unbuilt wall.

As it turns out, I am not a Democrat, and neither do I wish to see America destroyed, but I do hate America – or more specifically, I hate the United States of America.

Please allow me to explain.

I could list examples of our nation’s history of slavery and genocide. I could describe or ever expansive, militaristic imperialism. I could cite our racism and class warfare,  but none of the things, as potent as they are, are the real root of my hatred. I hate the USA because Jesus told me I should.

“Whoever comes to me and does not hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, yes, and even life itself, cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.”  Luke 14:26-27 -  NRSV

I am aware that these verses do not mention the USA specifically, or any nation-state in general. But the principle underlying these words certainly applies. And it’s not really that much of a stretch. We speak of Fatherland. We speak of Motherland. We speak of Homeland. And I am told by Jesus that I should hate my home.

It will be objected that Jesus didn’t actually mean hate. And it’s true; you can find any number of commentaries to explain that the Aramaic root of the word hate that Jesus uses here actually means, “love less.”  And this understanding is reflected in Matthew’s version of this instruction.

Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me.  Matthew 10:37-38  NRSV

But Jesus’ words ,as recorded by Luke, were intended to be coarse, shocking, vulgar even. These instructions cut across the fabric of society, tear a hole in social constructs, then and now. We are supposed to be offended by them and provoked by them. It does us no good to dismiss them as merely examples of Jesus’ sometimes fiery, hyperbolic rhetoric. It is rhetoric, yes,  but we dare not dismiss it.

Those who love their home – their homeland – more than him are not worthy of him. Those who do not hate their homes – their homelands- cannot be his disciples. And so, yes: I hate the USA.

Does this mean that I want to see it destroyed? No. No more than I want my parents, or brothers, or my wife, and children to be killed. The persistently belligerent will demand, “if you hate America, then why don’t you leave?”  But where could I go that I wouldn’t say the same thing?  No nation-state is the kingdom of heaven. No nation-state has my allegiance. Only the kingdom of God – on earth as it is I heaven. .

Love Your Enemies – You Don’t Need Me To Tell You This (A Sermon)

Matthew 5: 38 – 48
Psalm 119: 33 – 40
1 Corinthians 3: 10 – 11, 16 - 22


No one here today (or anyone reading this sermon later online) needs me to explain today’s passage; the meaning is relatively clear (and I don’t often say that.) You don’t need me to define obscure words or to explain difficult concepts. I might be helpful in fleshing out some small nuance, or perhaps to dismiss a few misunderstandings relative to this passage, but you don’t need me to explain it. Jesus’ words are easy to grasp; his message is not difficult.

Not difficult to understand – perhaps – though it seems to be difficult, if not impossible, to put into actual practice. (And indeed, many theologians have suggested that the whole point of the Sermon on the Mount was to set up an impossible standard that we could in no way meet – as a way to shatter our self-reliance and to awaken us to God’s grace.) (Jeremias 12)

Jesus said, “Love your enemies.” We might do some hair splitting, quibbling about who exactly is our enemy, or what it means to “love” them in day to day life, but we know what we’re being told to do. We understand the general intent. We just don’t do it. We don’t want to do it.

The psalmist wrote, “Lead me in the path of your commandments, for I delight in it.” (Psalm 119: 35 NRSV) But not this one. We don’t delight in this particular command. It strikes us as foolishness. “Love your enemies;” we sneer that “that’s a damn fool way to get ourselves killed.”

You don’t need me to explain this passage. You don’t need my sermon on it. In fact, I’ve been half tempted to forgo my usual sermon preparation, and to just read Martin Luther King jr.’s sermon “Loving Your Enemies” instead of trying to saying anything new today. But I won’t do that.

Jesus begins this passage with a reference back to the old standard, the Lex Talionis code of the Old Testament: “An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.” We should maybe point out that this was not a bloodthirsty, barbaric code of law. This was, in fact, a limit and a check on violent, bloody conflict. It was a restraint on wildly escalating blood feuds. (Albright 64)

He then offers his own antithetical – not that / but this – teaching, which does not contradict or abolish the old code, but goes further than the law. Jesus says that not only are we to give up the vengeance of escalating blood feuds, but we are to put aside even a righteous tit-for-tat, eye-for-eye, tooth-for-tooth reciprocity. It might be acceptable according to the old code to hit the one who has hit us, or to gouge the eye of someone who has gouged out our eye, but Jesus says, Do not resist an evildoer…if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also.”

The German theologian Joachim Jeremias has suggested that this blow to the right cheek “is not speaking of a simple insult; it is much more the case of a quite specific blow: the blow given to the disciples of Jesus as heretics. It is true that this is not specifically stated, but it follows from the observation that in every instance where Jesus speaks of insult, persecution, anathema, dishonor to the disciples, he is concerned with outrages that arise because of the discipleship itself. If you are dishonored as a heretic, says Jesus, then you should not go to law about it, rather you should show yourselves to be truly my disciples by the way in which you bear the hatred and the insult, overcome the evil, forgive the injustice” (Jeremias 28 – 29).

We spoke last week about not calling someone racca, fool, heretic, rebel because of the hatred and disunity that kind of insult creates. Here, we are further enjoined to not respond with vengeance to the insult of being called heretics ourselves. Personal vengeance is removed from our hands, and from our fists. (Robertson 48). But you don’t need me to tell you this. 

Jesus goes on to give a second antithetical statement. He refers first to the old law which said, “Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.” And here it can be remembered that while the first clause of that statement, “love your neighbor” is found in Leviticus 19:18, the second half, “hate your enemy” is not found in the written scriptures – though it may have been a part of the oral traditions and interpretations of the rabbis of the day. (Albright 69) Jesus, again, does not abolish or contradict this law but calls us further. He says that not only should we love our neighbors but that we are to love our enemies and pray for those who would persecute and hurt us.

He says that if we greet only our brothers and sisters with the prayer and blessing “Shalom” – peace be to you – which includes prosperity of every kind, material and spiritual wellbeing (Johnson 301) – if we only greet the brothers and sisters of our theological tradition, or the brothers and sisters of our racial or ethnic group, or the brothers and sisters of our country – then how good are we, exactly? Even the perpetually despised tax collectors and heathens can do this.

But you don’t really need me to explain any of this. Jesus message here is relatively clear.

This passage goes against our natural instincts and inclinations, goes against our customs and traditions, and even contradicts some of our Christian teachings. When faced with an enemy or a conflict we, by nature and nurture, react with either a fight or flight response. But love goes further than these limited reactions. We are not called to fight, to strike back (and definitely not to strike first); we are not called to return violence for violence. We are called to love, and to respond with love, not hate.

And neither are we called to run away from our enemies; we are called to love and love does not run away from conflict or danger. We’re called to give more than is asked of us, to go further than is demanded. We are called to love. But you don’t need me to tell you this.

We called to love and to love everyone – friends and family and foes. We are called to love those who are amicable to us and those who are hostile to us. But love is hard. Love is hard and we don’t want to accept the challenge that this represents. We want an out, an escape, a justification for our inability to put this instruction into practice. “[L]ove in action is a dreadful thing compared with love in dreams…active love is labor and fortitude” (Dostoevsky 50). Love is hard and dangerous work. Love kills us. But it is in that dying to ourselves, to our own desire, is how we learn to truly live.

Love is how we become sons and daughters of our father in heaven. Love is how become what we are created to be, how we reach our end our completion, our goal. “Be true, just as your heavenly father is true,”(Albright 71). We are to be straight and square – sincere and constant and candid in our love, not turned aside toward vengeance no matter how great the provocation. (Johnson 47).

This command, “be perfect just as your heavenly father is perfect” is not just a command for us, but also a promise to us. It is written in the future tense – “You shall be perfect.” (Buttrick 304). We shall be perfect and made whole when we know how to love even our enemies.

But you didn't need me to tell you this.

Albright W. F. & C.S. Mann. Matthew: Introduction, Translation, and Notes. Garden City, NY: Doubleday and Company, Inc,. 1971. Print.

Buttrick, George. “The Gospel According to St. Matthew: Exposition.” The Interpreter’s Bible Volume VII. Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press. 1951. Print.

Dostoevsky, Fyodor. The Brothers Karamazov. Translated by Constance Garnett, New York: Barnes & Noble Books. 1995. Print.

Jeremias, Joachim. “The Sermon on the Mount.” University of London, 7 March, 1961.

Johnson, Sherman E. “The Gospel According to St. Matthew: Exegesis” The Interpreter’s Bible Volume VII. Nashville, TN: Abingdon Press. 1951. Print.

King jr., Martin Luther “Loving Your Enemies” Dexter Avenue Baptist Church, Montgomery, Alabama. 17 November, 1957.

Robertson, Archibald Thomas. Word Pictures in the New Testament: Volume I. Nashville, TN: Broadman Press. 1930. Print. 

Hate Wins (At Least in the Short-Term)

I am, you will know, disappointed by the results of yesterday’s election. Disappointed, not because Hilary Clinton lost – I had not pinned my hopes on her or the Democratic Party. “Do not put your trust in princes, in human beings, who cannot save.” (Psalm 146: 3) But disappointed because Donald Trump won. And while I don’t believe he will be an apocalyptically bad president, I have no confidence that he will be a good one.

This election has shown me that Hate wins – at least in the short term. I say that for at least two reasons that I can describe.

1- Conservative and Evangelical voters hated Clinton enough that they could stomach voting for Trump. Many of them held their noses and voted for him, not because they want him as our president, but because they hate Clinton and the establishment and elite that she represents in their minds. Hate won.

and

2 – I know that not every conservative and Evangelical voter is racist, misogynistic, and xenophobic – but their endorsement of Trump has legitimized the hatred of those groups like the KKK that also supported Trump. His victory is their victory. Hate won.

But I am not hopeless (trying, anyway). Hate may win in the short term. But I believe in Love. And I believe in Justice. And I still believe in Hope and Change (with or without the help of political parties.)  

We Must Hate Our Country

There’s been a fair amount of hullabaloo about patriotism in the interweb chatter in recent weeks – vigorous, passionate discussion that often veers towards inflammatory argument and angry name calling. Presidential candidate, Donald Trump, has pledged to promote, “pride and patriotism” in schools and to teach respect for the US flag and the pledge of allegiance. Some are vilifying San Francisco 49ers quarterback Colin Kaepernick for his choice to not stand during the national anthem, while others are defending his first amendment right to do so. Similarly, some have flamed Olympian Gabby Douglas for not putting her hand over her heart during the national anthem along with her teammates.

One of the lectionary texts for this coming Sunday (September 4, 2016) is relevant and applicable to this discussion. In Luke 14: 25 – 33 Jesus, speaking to the crowds that are following him, gives a series qualifications for those who would be his disciples – or rather, disqualifiers. 

“If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters – yes, even his own life – he cannot be my disciple.” (14: 26 NIV)

“Hate” is a strong word, stringent and inflexible. And, while it should be understood as a form of hyperbolic speaking (Jesus does not want us to HATE our family, but to love them less than we love him. Compare this passage to its parallel in Matthew 10: 37-39 for the same intent, without the over-the-top hyperbole) we cannot soften it so much as to miss the point: every other allegiance should be held lower than our allegiance to him.

You might say, this verse says nothing about patriotism, or pride in our country, or respect for those who have served in the military. But to read this verse (and the verses that immediately follow it) in such a narrow and restrictive way is to soften the hyperbole and to miss the point.

And, I would contend, this verse does apply directly to the issue of patriotism. That word “patriotism” is derived from the Latin word pater – “father.” Patriotism is an emotional attachment, a bond, an allegiance to our father-land.

Those who cannot hate their country cannot be disciples of Jesus.

Oh, God! But Love Is Hard

Election season may be either an unfortunate or perfect time to preach from Paul’s “hymn to Love” (1 Corinthians 13). Perfect because it is timely and appropriate and vital for us to let its message transform us, unfortunate in that I doubt that we (as the larger body of Christians in America) will be willing or able to hear it in these divisive and polarized times. Where Paul would describe for us unfailing, unselfish love, love that trusts, love without rancor, we are daily bombarded on the radio, the television, in the mail and on the internet by messages of sour spite and acrimony. We are told to be fearful. We are urged on in our agitation. We are riled up on all sides and love seems lost.

There is no allowance for dialogue or civil debate; the volume and the hyperbole have been ratcheted up to eleven, the temperature of the rhetoric rheostat is cranked all the way up. Our political opponents are not concerned citizens who care about the country, but are consistently characterized as malicious and intent upon perfidy and evil. Demonization and damnation are the modus operandi of the day. We do not love. Love–real love, the kind described by Paul in today’s reading- in this highly charged and radically polarized election season, is a liability, a hindrance.

We may speak of love for God, and love for country but if we are not patiently, unselfishly loving each other, we do not know anything of real love. We may make a lot of noise about our holy faith, and wave the banner of our rigorously perfected doctrine, but if there is no love, it’s pointless; it’s a victory march around an empty square.[i] Catholic social activist, Dorothy Day is quoted as saying, “I really only love God as much as I love the person I love least.”[ii] If we took that as our measure, how much could we say we love God?

This chapter (not really a singable hymn with metered lines and stanzas, but capturing something like a hymn in its beauty) is part of the Apostle Paul’s letter to the Christian community in the city of Corinth. Paul had spent about a year and a half in that city (Acts 18:11), preaching and ministering to the people there. And though we have it described as the “First Epistle to the Corinthians,” it is actually Paul’s second letter to that church; the first has not been preserved for us.[iii]

From this epistle we can gather that the Christian church in Corinth was a fractured church; recoiling from sexual sins, squabbling in court as they sued one another for grievances and divided along party lines. Some of them rallied behind the teaching of Paul, others to the words of Apollos or Peter (1 Corinthians 1:11–12). The body of Christ (to return to Paul’s extended analogy from last week’s reading (1 Corinthians 12:12–31)) was cutting itself into pieces, bleeding and dying.

This chapter, this “hymn to Love” was written, not as an evangelistic tract to draw outsiders into the church or to convince unbelievers of the goodness of God’s love for and in us. Neither was it written to be read, as it often is today, as an all but obligatory part of wedding services (though the apostle did address the sanctity of marriage in his letter to the Corinthians…). This beautiful passage, this powerful text was written to challenge and to correct the dysfunctional behavior of the Christians in Corinth who were failing in nearly every way to live as “God’s holy people” (1 Corinthians 1:2). 

And though the letter was not written specifically or directly to us, we need to read it in the same way today – as a challenge, as a provocation. We should take it as a dare.

What good is it to anyone if I have a mellifluous tongue and can fluently speak in German, and French, and Spanish, Latin and Greek and Hebrew? What good is to you or to me if I can speak in the ethereal tongue of angels if I do not love? What good are political speeches or Sunday sermons or classroom lectures if the people giving them are not filled with love? All our beautiful words, all our polished deliveries, all our media perfected sound bites are nothing more than booming gongs or crashing, clashing cymbals. Mere noise, cacophony – which is, literally, a shitty sound[iv].

What good are the spiritual gifts-prophecy, knowledge, faith, leadership, healing, evangelism, and the like- if I don’t use them in love? They are worse than useless; they become dangerous weapons aimed against my fellow brothers and sisters in Christ.

Who cares if “I dole out all my property and hand over my body in order that I may boast (Orr 289)”? If I don’t have love, this doesn’t benefit me in anyway. It’s a fruitless, useless exercise. It’s hollow piety. It’s glitter and no gold.

We’ve probably heard the cliché: “Love is a verb,” so often that we nod our assent without thinking too much about it. But in the next several statements, Paul describes the dynamic quality of Love with a series of active verbs (Craig 172). Paul describes not what love is but what love does. Many translations may read “Love is patient” but translations like the King James Version provide a better rendering, even with the slightly archaic wording: “Charity suffereth long” (1 Corinthians 13:4 KJV).  The word of God is active and alive (Hebrews 4:12) and so is love. Love is action. Love endures. Love suffers. Love envies not. Love makes no self-aggrandizing boasts.

Love does not keep a storehouse of offense, storing up grievances, hoarding them like some sort of misanthropic miser. Love does not cherish resentment, burning it like fuel to warm a frozen heart. Love does not rejoice at wrongdoing, squealing with glee when its opponent is caught in some misdeed. There is no room for schadenfreude in love.[v]

Love is extravagant. Love is magnanimous. Love is gratuitous.[vi] “Love is always ready to make allowances, to trust, to hope, and to endure whatever comes” (1 Corinthians 13: 7 NJB).  Oh, that word “always.” It’s a killer. Always! Always ready to make allowances! Always ready to trust! Always ready to hope and to endure whatever comes. Love bears all things, covers over a multitude of sins (1 Peter 4:8). Love is always ready to believe the best. Love hopes and keeps right on hoping for the best. We may, on our good days, be willing to make allowance for a friend who annoys, who bothers, who offends. But always? Always ready to believe the best of someone? Oh, God! but love is hard.

And love never comes to an end. Love never fails (1 Corinthians 13:8 KJV). There is no expiration date, no shelf life, no half-life. Love never ends. Love never ends. Love never, never ends. Buildings will crumble, mountains will tumble into the sea. All of the bright shining stars of the universe will eventually burn out but love never fails. All the things that we value, and in which we put our trust will fail, run out, or be brought to an end – everything that is, except love. Perfect love.

This is our challenge. This is the dare. Do we love? It’s easy enough (sometimes) to love kin and kith, to love our family and our friends – though even there is often a challenge as well. The bonds of blood can bind us tight to our family so that we love them with a love that approaches this perfect agape love. Shared experiences and values can foster a sense of love for those of our party, our denomination, our tribe. But do we dare push our love even further?

“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect." (Matthew 5:43–48 NRSV)

The standard of our identification as Christians, the one true test of our religious devotion and the scrupulousness of our faith is not in the use of our spiritual gifts, or the perfection of our doctrine. The flawlessness of our faith is not proven in our strict adherence to a meticulously refined dogma. Our faith is demonstrated by our perfect love for one another.

After washing the feet of his disciples and speaking of his imminent death, Jesus gave his followers a new commandment: “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” (John 13: 34–35 NRSV)

How will the world recognize us as faithful followers of our Lord and Master? By our demonization of the members of the opposing political party? By our denigration of those who don’t hold to the same interpretation of the scripture? By our hostility? By our combative attitudes?  Is that what he said?

No.  We are to be known-as we are known-by our perfect and perfecting love, by our unselfish, sacrificial love for one another, even for those we may not like very much. This letter may not have been written specifically or directly to us, but we need to read it in the same way today – as a challenge, as a provocation. We need to take it as a dare. We need to let it propel us forward into dangerous new territory.

We need to ask the question: If “I really only love God as much as I love the person I love least,” how much do I love God? Do I love?

Graig, Clarence Tucker. “Exegesis: The First Epistle to the Corinthians” The Interpreter’s Bible Vol. X. Nashville, TN. Abingdon, 1953.

Orr, William F. and James Arthur Walther. I Corinthians: Anchor Bible Vol. 32. Garden City, NY. Doubleday & Company, Inc. 1976.

---

[i] And, as Leonard Cohen said, “Love is not a victory march.”

[ii] Whether she actually said it / wrote it, I don’t know. I can’t find the quote sourced, but it certainly sounds like something she would have said. 

[iii] In 5:9 Paul refers to his previous letter.

[iv] Cacophony 

[v] No Schadenfreude in our Salvation 

[vi] See the writings of Peruvian liberation theologian, Gustavo Gutiérrez.

If You Hate

If I have a least favorite psalm, then it may be Psalm 137.  If I have a second least favorite it may be Psalm 139 – not the whole thing, mind you, just verses 19 – 22.

If only, God, you would kill the wicked!
Men of violence, keep away from me!
those who speak blasphemously about you,
and take no account of your thoughts.
Yahweh, do I not hate those who hate you,
and loathe those who defy you?
My hate for them has no limits,
I regard them as my own enemies.
(Psalm 139: 19 – 22 New Jerusalem Bible)

I was at a fundraising event tonight for a local crisis pregnancy center. They’re a great organization and I’m glad to partner with them to help people of our community. But the speaker at tonight’s event was (at least based on his speech) less of a pro-life advocate than an anti-abortion activist.

The main thrust of his speech, based on Psalm 139, was “I hate abortionists,” which he expanded to include anyone who supports or endorses or doesn’t speak out against abortion, including any and all democrats.  He hates them.  “I know,” he admitted at one point in his speech, “that Jesus said we’re supposed to love and pray for our enemies, but I can’t. I won’t.”

Regardless of your stance towards the abortion issue, this kind of hatred is caustic and dangerous.

Perhaps you’ve seen this meme (or a variation of same) floating around the interwebs:  “If you hate anyone because of your faith, you’re doing it wrong.” Perhaps someone should tell King David (though I really doubt that this psalm should be ascribed to the poet-king.)

I will admit that I’m not quite sure what to do with these verses of Psalm 139. As a Christian, I interpret the bible through Jesus who said:

“You have heard how it was said, You will love your neighbor and hate your enemy. But I say this to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you; so that you will be children of your Father in heaven, for he causes his sun to rise on the bad as well as the good, and sends down rain to fall on the upright and wicked alike. For if you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Do not even the tax collectors do as much? And if you save your greetings for your brothers, are you doing anything exceptional? Do not even the gentiles do as much? You must therefore be perfect, just as your heavenly Father is perfect.”  (Matthew 5: 43- 48)

To be perfect is to love – as God has loved.  And God loves even his enemies.

Biblical Limericks – King David was Loathsome

Look at me God, and see how I hate;
see how my anger will not abate.
You can examine me-
test my heart and you’ll see
how loathsome is my natural state.

Psalm 139: 21 - 23

What I’m Reading: American Sniper

Others have suggested that Chris Kyle, touted as the “Most Lethal Sniper in U.S. Military History”, may have had a tendency to self aggrandization.  They cite his claim to have killed 30 looters after hurricane Katrina, and his claim to have given a black eye to governor Jesse Ventura, as well as his claim to have donated the profits from his book to Veteran’s charities (claims rebutted by National Review).  This tendency toward …exaggeration… may call into question the veracity of his autobiography, American Sniper.   But it’s not the factual accuracy of the book that I want to address; it’s the theology.

Toward the end of the book, Kyle describes his tattoos:  “On the front of my arm I had a crusader cross inked in. I wanted everyone to know I was a Christian.  I had it put in red, for blood.  I hated the damn savages I’d been fighting.  I always will” (Kyle 219).  Here he’s missed the point, didn’t even hit the target.

Christians are not identified by their hate but their love.

Kyle was full of hatred.  Through the book he consistently refers to the people he killed as evil and as savages.  And he enjoyed killing them.  “I only wish I had killed more” (Kyle 4).   In this he is indistinguishable from those who crashed the planes into the World Trade Center towers, or those who strap explosives to their chests and run into crowded markets. 

Chris Kyle may have been a terrific sniper – but he seriously misunderstood his faith.  

Klyle, Chris, Scott McEwen, and Jim DeFelice.  American Sniper: The Autobiography of the Most Lethal Sniper in U.S. Military History. New York. Harper Collins, 2012.

No Schadenfreude in our Salvation

After 400 years in Egypt, after years of slavery and oppression, after bitter rigor and slave labor and tears, the people of Israel were ready to leave, were ready for freedom.  They were oppressed.  They were burdened and beaten. 

Imagine them sitting huddled in their homes during that Passover night – hearing the screams and the shrieks in the dark.  Imagine the moans and sobbing and weeping as the angel of death passed through the country killing the first born sons of Egypt.

Then came their flight towards freedom, but first they had to cross the Sea of Reeds. So the angel, the cloud, the Lord moved to a place behind them to shield them from the pursuing Egyptians, as sort of smoke screen as they passed between the towering walls of water on either side.  And then, on the opposite shore, they watched as the Egyptian army followed them into the sea-bed.  Imagine the horror as those liquid walls came crashing down upon the Egyptians.  It must have been a horrible sight – to the Egyptian horses and riders and crumpled chariots washed upon the shore (Exodus 14: 30). 

Rabbi Johanan  taught that as the Egyptians were drowning the angels of heaven began to sing and to rejoice, chanting their hymns– but God rebuked them saying, “The work ofmy hands is being drowned in the sea, and shall you chant hymns?”

I imagine that it would have been tempting for the Israelites to cheer when they saw those bruised and battered and bloated bodies on the shore.  We want the bad guys to get what they deserve.  We want justice to be done.  We need justice to be done. But the line between the desire for justice and the desire for revenge is thin.  The desire for revenge and justice is natural and normal.  But dangerous.   Like fire that can cook food, heat homes, and disinfect can also burn, and destroy and kill. The need for justice or the desire for revenge can help or hurt us.

We want justice.  We want the oppressors to be punished, indeed we need for them to be punished.  But we should not let ourselves be so filled with hatred for our enemies, for our oppressors, for those who would hurt us – that we begin to enjoy and celebrate their pain and death.

Proverbs 24:17 says, “Do not gloat when your enemy falls, when they stumble do not let your heart rejoice.”

The German language has a word for this, it is schadenfreude - literally that is: “harm joy.”  A somewhat silly example of this is the slapstick humor of the Three Stooges.  We laugh when they take a prat fall, or get smacked upside the head with a shovel, hit with a frying pan.  But it becomes a matter of hatred and even sin when we begin to celebrate the pain and ruination of our enemies. 

Jesus said that we should “Love our enemies” (Matthew 5:44 / Luke 6:27).  This is a difficult thing to do.

A number of years ago I received word that a fellow Salvation Army officer – an officer who had been … less than kind to me, had been injured in a car accident.  I remember that my first thought upon hearing of his injuries was, “well good!”  I, for that brief moment, took some perverse pleasure in the fact that he’d been hurt.  And I did not like myself very much in that moment. 

We must somehow learn to love our enemies – to pray for and even bless those who would do us harm.  Even as we celebrate justice and the punishment of evil men and women, we must somehow learn to love them.  We must be people of love, not people of hate.

There is no room for schadenfreude in our salvation.  

He Can’t Hear Me

He has been told for so long that God hates him that he believes it.  Now he tells himself, over and over again, that God hates him.  That he is cursed. That God has cursed him from birth. 

And so he hates himself.  He’s tried suicide before.  Shot himself in the gut with a handgun.  Now he just drinks. 

And he hates God.  “F**k you, God!” he shouts. And then he hates himself even more because he knows he shouldn’t hate God.

He believes that his sins are unforgivable. “It’s in the Bible! I’ve read it!” He says this, but because he’s drunk he can’t remember where he read it, but he knows it’s in there.

What can I say to him except, “God loves you.  You are not cursed.”  Over and over again, I say it. “You are not cursed. God loves you.  Nothing you have done is unforgivable.  And again and again, “God loves you.”

But he can’t hear me.  Partly because he’s so drunk.  And partly because this message is so contrary to everything he’s ever been told, and everything that he continues to tell himself.

But I say it again, “God loves you.”

Psalm 137 – I Don’t Care if it’s Scripture; it’s Abominable

I have written about Psalm 137 a number of times before.(Here, here, and here)  I would rather leave it alone, but it has come up in our church’s weekly bible study through the psalms, so I am drawn to it again – though it repulses me. 

It is a horrible psalm, a powerful psalm. It is a curse disguised as a blessing wrapped up in a lament. 

And I am thinking about this brutal psalm as I’m watching the news reports come in from Gaza, where Israeli rockets are destroying homes and killing civilians (including many children.)

The Psalm begins in beauty; few passages of scripture are as lyric as the first six verses.  Written by one of the exiles recently returned from captivity in Babylon, it describes the emotional state of the Jewish people during their time in that foreign land.

By the rivers of Babylon,
there we sat,
sat and wept,
as we thought of Zion.
There on the poplars
we hung up our lyres,
for our captors asked us there for songs,
our tormentors, for amusement:
“Sing us one of the songs of Zion.
How can we sing a song of the LORD
on alien soil?
(Psalm 137: 1 – 4 JPS version [i])

They hung their harps and lyres upon the branches of the willows and poplars because they had no more use for them. They could not sing hymns and songs of praise.  For the dead cannot praise God.

For there is no praise of You among the dead;
in Sheol, who can acclaim You?
(Psalm 6: 6 JPS version)

For it is not Sheol that praises you,
not [the Land of ]Death that extols you;
nor do they who descend into the Pit
hope for Your grace.
The living, only the living
can give thanks to you…
(Isaiah 38: 18 – 19a JPS version)

They were dead – inwardly.  With no hope. No praise.  How could they sing?

And if the psalm were to end at verse 6, with the expression of the psalmist’s desire to never forget his homeland, I would consider psalm 137 to be just about the greatest psalm in the book.  But it doesn’t.  Good God! It doesn’t.

Verses 7 – 9 take turn this beautiful psalm into an expression of hate and brutal revenge. 

I recognize that I am reading it with modern eyes and evaluating it by contemporary standards.  This is somewhat inevitable.  I may appreciate in the abstract that in the ancient world this was the norm, but I cannot (and will not) accept it as the normative prescription for today.

The Psalmist calls upon God to remember the Edomites (perpetual enemies and feuding relatives to the Jewish people) and their participation in Jerusalem’s destruction.  Remember how they treated us.   And, though it’s left unspoken, the implication is – “do the same to them, God.”  Strip them bare and humiliate them.

Mitchell Dahood, in the Anchor Bible translation, suggests that because Jerusalem is addressed directly in verse 5, and Babylon is addressed directly in verse 8, that Edom should be addressed directly in verse 7.  Making this a warning to the sons of Edom (“Remember Yahweh, O sons of Edom…” (Dahood, 272) [ii] rather than a plea for God to exact revenge against them.

But the final two verses are clearly a curse against Babylon – a curse disguised as a blessing. 

Fair Babylon, you predator,
a blessing on him who repays you in kind
what you have inflicted on us;
a blessing on him who seizes your babies
and dashes them against the rocks!
(Psalm 137: 8 – 9 JPS version)

If verses 1 – 6 are among the greatest lines of scripture, these are among the worst- the ugliest, the most disgusting.  I don’t care that it’s scripture; it’s abominable. I understand the emotion. I understand the bitterness one may have toward someone who has wronged them.  I understand the need to express that emotion.  But I will not accept this as a valid prescription for modern living.

If we continue to pray for the children of our enemies to be killed, we will continue to live in a brutal hate filled world of violence.  Let us move beyond the psalms of hate into the words of Jesus: “Love your enemies. Pray for those who persecute you.”  (Matthew 5:44)

Bombing the homes and houses of your enemies is not love.  It is disgusting and abominable.

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[i] The New JPS Translation – The Jewish Publication Society, Philadelphia, PA, 1999.

[ii] Dahood, Mitchell, Psalms III 101 – 150: Introduction, Translation and Notes, Doubleday & Company, Inc. Garden City, NY, 1970.

God Has No Delight in the Death of the Wicked, But the Psalmist Does

I'm looking at Psalm 58 today for our mid-week bible study group.  It's an aggressive psalm, an over the top, grotesque psalm.  Not all of the bible is pretty and pink-lollypop warm fuzzy.  This psalm is an imprecation - a curse.  The psalmist is calling down a horrific death on his enemies.  There is no room in his hatred for a different point of view.  There is no opportunity for a second chance.  There is no grace or mercy; the psalmist wants only vengeance.  He wants to see them dead.

These wicked rulers and officials are, the psalmist says, loathsome liars from birth.  Since both this psalm and psalm 51 are attributed to David – I wonder if David remembers that he said the same thing about himself (“Surely I was sinful at birth, sinful from the time my mother conceived me…” – psalm 51:5).  He could ask for mercy for himself, but wants no mercy for these wicked judges.

He curses them in extravagantly violent language: May God knock the teeth out of their mouths, may they vanish like water that flows away, may they be like a slug melting in slime, may they be like bloody stillborns never seeing the sun, never taking a breath.

And then he says that he will rejoice in their death, though of course he wraps this in the language of justice.  “The righteous will be glad when they are avenged.” This assumes that his cause is righteous.  And it may have been.  It may be true that this began as righteous indignation, a just and holy anger at oppressive and wicked rulers – but it has turned into a burning hatred.  The psalmist looks forward to the time when he can bathe himself in the blood of his enemies.

This psalmist (whether it is David or not…) is a bit like the prophet Nahum, with a long memory for his suffering, but little memory of God’s grace.   

But God takes no pleasure in the death of the wicked:

“As I live, says the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that the wicked turn from their ways and live; turn back, turn back from your evil ways; for why will you die…”

Ezekiel 33: 11 (NRSV)

Let the Hate Begin

The next moment a hideous, grinding screech, as of some monstrous machine running without oil, burst from the big telescreen at the end of the room.  It was a noise that set one’s teeth on edge and bristled the hair at the back of one’s neck.  The Hate had started.[i]

George Orwell’s “Two Minutes Hate” has begun (and is likely to last far longer than one hundred and twenty seconds.  And with our access to twenty-four hour “news” coverage and to social media sites on the internet – our Two Minutes Hate can be a full 24 Hours Hate.

Now that suspects have been identified in the Boston Bombing- and one has already been killed in an explosive gun battle with police – we can begin our hate proper.

quotes collected from FB:

“how cool would it be to hear reported if a lawful gun handling citizen took care of business...”

“get that bastard!!!!!!! shoot his balls off and torture him to a very very long and slow death.”

“[his] eyes are empty which means you have no soul.”

“He is a face with empty eyes...lost.”

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[i]  Orwell, George.  1984,