Jesus Doesn't Divide The World
Preaching
Gathering Up the Fragments
Preaching As Spiritual Practice
Object:
I pray that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation as you come to know him, so that, with the eyes of your heart enlightened, you may know what is the hope to which he has called you....
-- Ephesians 1:17-18
[Jesus said to his disciples,] "And see, I am sending upon you what my Father promised; so stay here in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high." Then he led them as far as Bethany, and, lifting up his hands, he blessed them. While he was blessing them, he withdrew from them and was carried up into heaven. And they worshiped him, and returned to Jerusalem with great joy; and they were continually in the temple blessing God.
-- Luke 24:49-53
Tony Hendra, a British comedian, once tried to describe the function of satire -- humor told at the expense of another person, often with fierce ridicule and contempt -- to his spiritual mentor, a gentle Benedictine monk named Father Joe. "Satire," he explained, "is a weapon the powerless have against the powerful. Or the poor against the rich. Or the young against the old." "Satire always divides people up into two groups?" Father Joe asked. "Yes." "Is that a good thing?"
"It's the way the world works, Father Joe. People think in teams. We're good; you're evil; we're smart; you're dumb. Most humor works that way, even the most basic jokes. The English tell Irish jokes. Americans tell Polish jokes, because the Poles have been stereotyped as stupid."
"Tell me a Polish joke," Father Joe said. "Okay," Tony replied. "What has an IQ of 212?" "I don't know, dear." "Warsaw." Father Joe gazed up expectantly. "Is there a joke coming?" "That's it. The entire city of Warsaw has a combined IQ of 212." "Oh, but the Poles are a rather sensitive people," Father Joe protested. "Tragic and poetic and long-suffering. Look at Chopin -- or the Holy Father." "Okay Chopin and John Paul the Second are not Polish jokes. But the dynamic holds for jokes about politicians, blondes, or the French." Father Joe looked puzzled. "To say people are stupid when they're not -- isn't that a little cruel?"
He was silent for a moment. "You see, dear, I think there are two types of people in the world. Those who divide the world into two types of people, and those who don't."1
If you think about it, satire and war share the same premise. In war, as in satire, you must divide the world into two groups: your allies and your enemies, the good versus the evil, us against them. It's essential for soldiers in war to define their enemies and be prepared to kill them, something hard to do if they think about what they and their enemies have in common.
The war we are currently fighting in Iraq has created sharp divisions among us as a nation. We are clearly on teams: those who supported the war when we first invaded Iraq and those who didn't; those who still support the war (a number, if the pollsters are right, that is diminishing) and those who don't. We are divided according to those who now believe that the only way out of the quagmire we find ourselves in is to withdraw our troops and those who believe we can't walk away from the mess we've helped to create, or in the more positive language of our president, until the mission is complete.
On this Memorial Day weekend, I'd like to suggest another division between us as Americans: Those who are actually fighting this war and those of us who are not, or to broaden the lens, those who have family members and friends fighting in Iraq and those who don't. The actual number of Americans fighting is relatively small, certainly in comparison to past wars. During the Civil War, which was the inspiration for Memorial Day, or Decoration Day, as it was called then, over three million people fought and over 500,000 people died, a number if adjusted to the current population would be over ten million. Memorial Day began as a way to honor the dead, and everyone in the nation loved someone who had died in the war. Everyone paid a price. During the Second World War, the war often remembered at the most noble of American wars, sixteen million people served in the military and, of course, every American felt the impact of that war, with the rationing of food and other essentials and the redirecting of resources to pay for the war as we fought it.
In the current war, those of us who aren't fighting and don't have family members in the Middle East are asked to do very little in support. Moral support is appreciated, in the form of bumper stickers and the like. But we're not being asked to share the burden, although we certainly will in the future when the credit card bill comes. We're not asked to sacrifice now. There is no draft, no increase in taxes to pay for the war, no limiting of our consumption to direct supplies to the troops.
Those who are fighting in Iraq, in contrast, are asked to sacrifice everything. Over 2,400 soldiers and national guardsmen have lost their lives. Countless others have lost limbs, mobility, and brain function. Family members have lost loved ones -- fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, spouses -- gone forever.
Buried in the back of the New York Times, at least once -- sometimes twice a week -- there appears a small box with the heading, "Names of the Dead." Below that a brief statement, as in the one on May 25, 2006, which read: "The Department of Defense has identified 2,452 American service members who have died since the start of the Iraq war. It confirmed the deaths of the following Americans this week." And then the names:
Christoff, David, R, age 25, from Rossford, Ohio, Third Marine Division
Hermanson, Michael, age 21, from Fargo, North Dakota, Army National Guard
Leusink, William, J, age 21, from Maurice, Iowa, Third Marine Division
Rameriz, Benito, age 21 from Edinburg, Texas, First Marine Division2
As you read the obituaries of those who have died in Iraq, the first thing that strikes you about them is their youth. It is always so in war: Young people do not plan and strategize wars, but they disproportionately fight and die in them. For one woman in central Wisconsin, the death that haunts her is that of a young man who enlisted and died right after high school. He had no time to make his mark on the world; his was, as yet, an unlived life.3
Some of our young fellow Americans enlist in the military with a fervent patriotism and desire to protect our country, particularly so after the attacks of September 11. Others -- the majority -- enlist because, frankly, they don't have a lot of options: their grades in high school weren't great; they didn't go to college; they live in depressed areas; they don't have marketable job skills; and they are in debt. Not all support the war, but many do. In fact, of those paying the greatest price for this war, the percentage supporting it is higher than of those who aren't. That shouldn't surprise us: They are risking their lives. Many are, in their minds, fighting a war of good versus evil, freedom against tyranny, America versus the terrorist threat, us versus them. The military is not, in general, a bad place for them. My sister pulled her life out of chaos by dedicating her life to the military, and one of her sons is currently doing the same. It is also true that our leaders feed and fuel their naiveté and immaturity. Many young men and women are fighting in Iraq because they believe that Saddam Hussein was responsible for the attacks on September 11.
"There are two types of people in the world. Those who divide the world into two types of people, and those who don't."
Toward the end of the Easter season there is, in the Christian calendar, a day called the Feast of the Ascension, that tells of Jesus' post-resurrection ascent into heaven, or perhaps better stated, the transition from being Jesus of Nazareth, rooted in one historical moment of time, to Jesus the Christ, available and present to all people in every time. Jesus of Nazareth died a political martyr. Jesus the Christ died to reconcile humanity to God. Jesus the Christ lives now in and for all of us, whether we acknowledge him or not, know him or not, believe in him or not. His ministry is one of love and reconciliation and forgiveness for every human being. To follow him means to accept the brokenness that lives in each one of us, to take our place in and among a broken yet glorious humanity, and to seek and serve Christ in all people. To follow him requires us to give up thinking in terms of us/them, good/evil. For we are all on the same team in his mind. We're all on the same side.
This is not a day to debate military policy. Nor is it a day for simplistic patriotism, on the assumption that we, as a nation, are always in the right in war. It is, foremost, a day to remember and to grieve the loss of those who died in war, the ones whose lives were cut off too soon, young men and women, subjected to the worst that human beings can do to one another.
From Minnesota, 35 have died. Some were married; most were single. Four had children. The youngest, a Marine, was 18; the oldest, an Army Reservist, was 44.4
Edward James Hogart, age twenty, from Shakopee, was the first Minnesotan to die in the war, in 2003. Robert Posivio, from Sherborn, was the latest Minnesotan to die. He had just returned to Iraq last month after recovering from injuries sustained in a previous attack. It was his third tour of duty. He was due to be discharged on July 28.
We have every reason to be in awe of these men and women. And every reason to question what we are asking them to do in our name.
____________
1. Tony Hendra, Father Joe: the Man Who Saved My Soul (New York: Random House, 2004), p. 190.
2. "Names of the Dead," in The New York Times, May 25, 2006, p. A-8.
3. Heard on an interview on National Public Radio, May 26, 2006.
4. "Remembering Minnesotans Who Died in Iraq," in The Minneapolis Star Tribune, May 25, 2006.
-- Ephesians 1:17-18
[Jesus said to his disciples,] "And see, I am sending upon you what my Father promised; so stay here in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high." Then he led them as far as Bethany, and, lifting up his hands, he blessed them. While he was blessing them, he withdrew from them and was carried up into heaven. And they worshiped him, and returned to Jerusalem with great joy; and they were continually in the temple blessing God.
-- Luke 24:49-53
Tony Hendra, a British comedian, once tried to describe the function of satire -- humor told at the expense of another person, often with fierce ridicule and contempt -- to his spiritual mentor, a gentle Benedictine monk named Father Joe. "Satire," he explained, "is a weapon the powerless have against the powerful. Or the poor against the rich. Or the young against the old." "Satire always divides people up into two groups?" Father Joe asked. "Yes." "Is that a good thing?"
"It's the way the world works, Father Joe. People think in teams. We're good; you're evil; we're smart; you're dumb. Most humor works that way, even the most basic jokes. The English tell Irish jokes. Americans tell Polish jokes, because the Poles have been stereotyped as stupid."
"Tell me a Polish joke," Father Joe said. "Okay," Tony replied. "What has an IQ of 212?" "I don't know, dear." "Warsaw." Father Joe gazed up expectantly. "Is there a joke coming?" "That's it. The entire city of Warsaw has a combined IQ of 212." "Oh, but the Poles are a rather sensitive people," Father Joe protested. "Tragic and poetic and long-suffering. Look at Chopin -- or the Holy Father." "Okay Chopin and John Paul the Second are not Polish jokes. But the dynamic holds for jokes about politicians, blondes, or the French." Father Joe looked puzzled. "To say people are stupid when they're not -- isn't that a little cruel?"
He was silent for a moment. "You see, dear, I think there are two types of people in the world. Those who divide the world into two types of people, and those who don't."1
If you think about it, satire and war share the same premise. In war, as in satire, you must divide the world into two groups: your allies and your enemies, the good versus the evil, us against them. It's essential for soldiers in war to define their enemies and be prepared to kill them, something hard to do if they think about what they and their enemies have in common.
The war we are currently fighting in Iraq has created sharp divisions among us as a nation. We are clearly on teams: those who supported the war when we first invaded Iraq and those who didn't; those who still support the war (a number, if the pollsters are right, that is diminishing) and those who don't. We are divided according to those who now believe that the only way out of the quagmire we find ourselves in is to withdraw our troops and those who believe we can't walk away from the mess we've helped to create, or in the more positive language of our president, until the mission is complete.
On this Memorial Day weekend, I'd like to suggest another division between us as Americans: Those who are actually fighting this war and those of us who are not, or to broaden the lens, those who have family members and friends fighting in Iraq and those who don't. The actual number of Americans fighting is relatively small, certainly in comparison to past wars. During the Civil War, which was the inspiration for Memorial Day, or Decoration Day, as it was called then, over three million people fought and over 500,000 people died, a number if adjusted to the current population would be over ten million. Memorial Day began as a way to honor the dead, and everyone in the nation loved someone who had died in the war. Everyone paid a price. During the Second World War, the war often remembered at the most noble of American wars, sixteen million people served in the military and, of course, every American felt the impact of that war, with the rationing of food and other essentials and the redirecting of resources to pay for the war as we fought it.
In the current war, those of us who aren't fighting and don't have family members in the Middle East are asked to do very little in support. Moral support is appreciated, in the form of bumper stickers and the like. But we're not being asked to share the burden, although we certainly will in the future when the credit card bill comes. We're not asked to sacrifice now. There is no draft, no increase in taxes to pay for the war, no limiting of our consumption to direct supplies to the troops.
Those who are fighting in Iraq, in contrast, are asked to sacrifice everything. Over 2,400 soldiers and national guardsmen have lost their lives. Countless others have lost limbs, mobility, and brain function. Family members have lost loved ones -- fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, spouses -- gone forever.
Buried in the back of the New York Times, at least once -- sometimes twice a week -- there appears a small box with the heading, "Names of the Dead." Below that a brief statement, as in the one on May 25, 2006, which read: "The Department of Defense has identified 2,452 American service members who have died since the start of the Iraq war. It confirmed the deaths of the following Americans this week." And then the names:
Christoff, David, R, age 25, from Rossford, Ohio, Third Marine Division
Hermanson, Michael, age 21, from Fargo, North Dakota, Army National Guard
Leusink, William, J, age 21, from Maurice, Iowa, Third Marine Division
Rameriz, Benito, age 21 from Edinburg, Texas, First Marine Division2
As you read the obituaries of those who have died in Iraq, the first thing that strikes you about them is their youth. It is always so in war: Young people do not plan and strategize wars, but they disproportionately fight and die in them. For one woman in central Wisconsin, the death that haunts her is that of a young man who enlisted and died right after high school. He had no time to make his mark on the world; his was, as yet, an unlived life.3
Some of our young fellow Americans enlist in the military with a fervent patriotism and desire to protect our country, particularly so after the attacks of September 11. Others -- the majority -- enlist because, frankly, they don't have a lot of options: their grades in high school weren't great; they didn't go to college; they live in depressed areas; they don't have marketable job skills; and they are in debt. Not all support the war, but many do. In fact, of those paying the greatest price for this war, the percentage supporting it is higher than of those who aren't. That shouldn't surprise us: They are risking their lives. Many are, in their minds, fighting a war of good versus evil, freedom against tyranny, America versus the terrorist threat, us versus them. The military is not, in general, a bad place for them. My sister pulled her life out of chaos by dedicating her life to the military, and one of her sons is currently doing the same. It is also true that our leaders feed and fuel their naiveté and immaturity. Many young men and women are fighting in Iraq because they believe that Saddam Hussein was responsible for the attacks on September 11.
"There are two types of people in the world. Those who divide the world into two types of people, and those who don't."
Toward the end of the Easter season there is, in the Christian calendar, a day called the Feast of the Ascension, that tells of Jesus' post-resurrection ascent into heaven, or perhaps better stated, the transition from being Jesus of Nazareth, rooted in one historical moment of time, to Jesus the Christ, available and present to all people in every time. Jesus of Nazareth died a political martyr. Jesus the Christ died to reconcile humanity to God. Jesus the Christ lives now in and for all of us, whether we acknowledge him or not, know him or not, believe in him or not. His ministry is one of love and reconciliation and forgiveness for every human being. To follow him means to accept the brokenness that lives in each one of us, to take our place in and among a broken yet glorious humanity, and to seek and serve Christ in all people. To follow him requires us to give up thinking in terms of us/them, good/evil. For we are all on the same team in his mind. We're all on the same side.
This is not a day to debate military policy. Nor is it a day for simplistic patriotism, on the assumption that we, as a nation, are always in the right in war. It is, foremost, a day to remember and to grieve the loss of those who died in war, the ones whose lives were cut off too soon, young men and women, subjected to the worst that human beings can do to one another.
From Minnesota, 35 have died. Some were married; most were single. Four had children. The youngest, a Marine, was 18; the oldest, an Army Reservist, was 44.4
Edward James Hogart, age twenty, from Shakopee, was the first Minnesotan to die in the war, in 2003. Robert Posivio, from Sherborn, was the latest Minnesotan to die. He had just returned to Iraq last month after recovering from injuries sustained in a previous attack. It was his third tour of duty. He was due to be discharged on July 28.
We have every reason to be in awe of these men and women. And every reason to question what we are asking them to do in our name.
____________
1. Tony Hendra, Father Joe: the Man Who Saved My Soul (New York: Random House, 2004), p. 190.
2. "Names of the Dead," in The New York Times, May 25, 2006, p. A-8.
3. Heard on an interview on National Public Radio, May 26, 2006.
4. "Remembering Minnesotans Who Died in Iraq," in The Minneapolis Star Tribune, May 25, 2006.
