O Que Devo Fazer para Herdar a Vida Eterna?

Evangelho: 28º Domingo do Tempo Comum, 13 de outubro de 2024
Marcos 10:17-30

Eu considero Padre Júlio (pastor dos moradores de rua na cidade de São Paulo) um dos pastores mais inspiradores desta época. Suas homilias trazem profundidade e luz para a compreensão das Escrituras e conectam os insights bíblicos ao nosso mundo de hoje, como poucos outros pregadores que eu tenho ouvido consigam fazer. As reflexões que seguem misturam minhas próprias perguntas e foco junto com os insights destacados pelo Padre Júlio.

Artista: Heinrich Hoffman

O cenário desta leitura é montado pelo anúncio de que um homem corre até Jesus e se ajoelha diante dele. Pe. Júlio ressalta que no evangelho de Marcos o ato de “correr” e “ajoelhar-se diante” de Jesus conectam esse homem com dois outros personagens deste evangelho: o homem possuído por demônios (Marcos 5:6) e o leproso (Marcos 1:40). Para o Pe. Júlio, o significado dessa conexão fica claro no final desta história, quando a narrativa fornece mais informações sobre a identidade desse homem.

O que vem a seguir no texto é o ponto principal que despertou a minha atenção, talvez de uma forma que nunca havia acontecido antes. Ajoelhando-se, o homem pergunta a Jesus: “Bom mestre, o que devo fazer para herdar a vida eterna?” Esta questão tem sido central para os cristãos e outras pessoas de fé ao longo de todos os séculos, até ao presente. “O que devo fazer para ganhar a vida eterna?” Agora, o que me intriga ao prestar atenção mais uma vez a esta leitura do Evangelho é a resposta de Jesus. Observe que primeiro ele relembra os mandamentos: “não matarás; não cometerás adultério; não roubarás;
não levantarás falso testemunho; não prejudicarás ninguém; honra teu pai e tua mãe! E por aí ele para.

Na igreja e na família cristã onde cresci, a resposta de Jesus não teria sido a resposta correta para a pergunta. Cresci aprendendo que obedecer a esses mandamentos podia ser uma demonstração e consequência de uma fé verdadeira que leva à vida eterna, mas obedecer aos mandamentos definitivamente não era visto como o alicerce para tal esperança. A resposta correta era acreditar que Jesus morreu pelos nossos pecados e assim abriu o caminho para a vida eterna. Na verdade, fui ensinado que alguém que não obedecesse a esses mandamentos poderia, com uma mudança de coração no último momento, fazer a oração de fé e ter a vida eterna garantida. No entanto, se acreditarmos o que Jesus está dizendo, obedecermos aos mandamentos seria de fato uma resposta suficiente.

Contudo, note também uma omissão na resposta de Jesus. Na verdade, a lei é resumida em duas partes: “Ame a Deus” e “Ame o seu próximo”. Mas a resposta de Jesus apenas destaca a segunda parte, ou seja, os atos relacionados com o amor ao próximo. Pe. Júlio enfatiza que atos concretos de amor ao próximo são, na verdade, uma evidência do nosso amor a Deus. Se dissermos que amamos a Deus, mas depois agirmos contra o outro, desrespeitarmos e virarmos as costas para o outro, a mentira será demonstrada em nossa ação. Podemos afirmar que amamos a Deus, mas se não demonstrarmos esse amor na nossa vida, devemos questionar se realmente existe amor verdadeiro ali ou não!

Mas voltando à história. O inquiridor garante a Jesus que ele seguiu todos os mandamentos e o fez desde a juventude. Ao ouvir isso, somos informados de que Jesus responde com amor, dizendo ao homem que lhe falta apenas uma coisa: “Vá”, diz ele, e “venda tudo o que você tem e dê aos pobres”. E com isso, Jesus promete: “você terá tesouro no céu”.

Novamente, em contraste com a resposta de “crença” tão comum no que me ensinaram e na igreja de hoje, esta parece ser a resposta final de Jesus à pergunta do homem. Doe-se às pessoas ao seu redor, especialmente aos mais vulneráveis, aos mais necessitados, e você herdará o que procuras. (Lembro-me de outra passagem do evangelho onde Jesus ensina que aqueles que alimentam os famintos, dão água aos sedentos, acolhem o estrangeiro, vestem os nus, cuidam dos enfermos e visitam os que estão na prisão “herdarão o Reino de Deus.” Mateus 25:31-46) No entanto, esta resposta de Jesus foi o fim da picada. Ao ouvir isso, o homem vai embora triste. E é aqui que o narrador nos conta algo mais sobre este homem: “pois ele tinha muitos bens”. Como ele ganhou seus bens não sabemos. Ele os herdou? Ele os ganhou honestamente? Ele os conquistou enganando ou explorando seus trabalhadores? A passagem não fornece essa informação. No entanto, o apelo de Jesus para assumir um compromisso radical com os seus semelhantes era mais do que o homem estava disposto a dar e, apesar de estar triste, ele vai embora.

Observe que Jesus muda o que é chamado de “herança” para o homem que vende seus bens e dá aos pobres. Jesus não diz que ganhará a vida eterna, mas sim que terá “um tesouro no céu”. Talvez já percebendo o status social e a classe do homem, Jesus lhe ofereça algo pelo qual ele tem um apego pessoal: o tesouro.  Mas o tesouro celestial não é suficiente para afastá-lo da sua vida de homem rico.

Aqui Pe. Júlio aponta a ligação com o homem possuído por demônios e o leproso. Ambos foram a Jesus em busca de cura. Em contraste, este homem não percebeu a necessidade de cura, mas, habituado a uma vida de privilégios, procurava como garantir um status privilegiado na próxima vida.

Dizem-nos que os discípulos de Jesus, que testemunharam este encontro, ficaram maravilhados. Jesus aproveita esta oportunidade para lhes dizer que embora “todas as coisas sejam possíveis para Deus”, “quão difícil é para aqueles que têm riqueza entrar no Reino de Deus!” “É mais fácil”, explica ele, “um camelo passar pelo buraco de uma agulha do que um rico entrar no Reino de Deus”.

What Must I do to Inherit Eternal Life?

Gospel Reading: 28^th Sunday of Ordinary Time, October 13, 2024
Mark 10:17-30

I consider Father Julio (pastor to persons homeless in the city of São Paulo, Brazil) one of the most inspirational preachers of our time. His homilies bring depth and light to understanding the Scriptures and connecting biblical insights to our world today as few other preachers I have heard do. The following reflections blend my own questions and focus together with insights highlighted by Father Julio.

Artist: Heinrich Hoffman

The stage in this reading is set by the announcement that a man comes running up to Jesus and kneels  before him. Fr. Julio points out that in Mark the acts of “running up” and “kneeling before” Jesus connect this man with two other characters in this gospel: the man possessed by demons (Mark 5:6), and the leper (Mark 1:40). For Fr. Julio, the significance of this connection becomes clear at the end of this story when the narrative provides more insight into the identity of this man.

What comes next in the text is what sparked my attention, perhaps in a way that it never had before. Kneeling, the man asks Jesus: “Good teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” This question is one that has been central to Christians and other people of faith down through all the centuries, to the present. “What must I do to gain eternal life?” Now, what intrigues me in attending once again to this gospel reading is Jesus’ response. Note that first he names the commandments: do not kill; do not commit adultery; do not steal; do not bear false witness; do not defraud; honor your father and mother. And he stops there.

In the Christian church and family where I grew up, Jesus’ answer would not have been the correct answer to the question. I grew up being taught that obeying these commandments may be a demonstration and consequence of a true faith that leads to eternal life, but obeying the commandments was definitely not seen as the foundation for such hope. The correct answer was to believe that Jesus died for our sins and thus opened the way to eternal life. In fact I was taught that someone who failed to obey these commandments could, with a change of heart at the last moment, say the prayer of belief and be guaranteed eternal life. However, if we take Jesus at his word, obeying the commandments is in fact a sufficient answer.

However, notice also an omission in Jesus’ response. The law is actually summarized in two parts: “Love God” and “Love your Neighbor.” But Jesus’ response only highlights the second part, i.e., acts related to loving your neighbor. Fr. Julio emphasizes that concrete acts of loving our neighbor are in fact evidence of our love for God. If we say we love God but then act against, or disrespect, or turn our backs on the other, the lie is demonstrated in our action. We can claim to love God, but if our life doesn’t show that love, then we must ask whether there is true love there, or not!

But returning to the story. The inquirer assures Jesus that he has followed all the commandments and has done so since his youth. Hearing this, we are told that Jesus responds with love telling the man that he is lacking then only one thing: “Go,” he says, and “sell all you have and give to the poor.” And with this, Jesus promises, “you will have treasures in heaven.”

Again, in contrast to the “belief answer” so common in what I was taught and in the church today, this seems to be Jesus’ final response to the man’s question. Give of yourself to those around you, especially the most vulnerable, those in greatest need, and you will inherit what you seek. (I am reminded of another gospel passage where Jesus teaches that those who feed the hungry, give water to the thirsty, welcome the stranger, clothe the naked, care for the sick, and visit those in prison will “inherit the Reign of God.” Matthew 25:31-46) However, to pick up on an image that appears later in this passage, this answer from Jesus is what broke the camel’s back. Hearing this, the man goes away sad. And here the narrator tells us something more about this man: “for he had many possessions.” How he gained his possessions we are not told. Did he inherit them? Did he gain them honestly? Did he gain them by cheating or exploiting his workers? The passage doesn’t provide this information. However, Jesus’ call to making a radical commitment to his fellow human beings was more than the man was willing to give, and although sad, he walks away.

Note that Jesus changes what is named as the “inheritance” for the man selling his possessions and giving to the poor. Jesus does not say that he will gain eternal life but rather that he will have “treasure in heaven.” Perhaps already perceiving the man’s social status and class Jesus offers him something that he has a personal attachment to: treasure.  But heavenly treasure is not enough to draw him away from his life as a rich man.

Here Fr. Julio points out the connection to the man possessed by demons and the leper. They both came to Jesus seeking healing. In contrast, this man came unaware of a need for healing but rather, accustomed to a life of privilege, he came inquiring about how to guarantee privileged status in the next life.

We are told that Jesus’ disciples, who witnessed this encounter, were amazed. Jesus uses this opportunity to tell them that while “all things are possible with God,” “how hard it is for those with wealth to enter God’s Reign!” “It is easier,” he explains, “for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for one who is rich to enter the Reign of God.”

Todo a Pulmon: Refletindo Sobre o Primeiro Ano da Aposentadoria

Que turbilhão de ano!! Depois de uma breve visita familiar ao Brasil em janeiro (2022), em uma segunda visita (em abril) para comemorar os 90 anos da minha sogra, colocamos nossa casa à venda e três dias e cinco ofertas depois colocamos o sinal: "VENDIDO". A seguir preparámo-nos e partimos para uma estadia de três meses em Portugal, incluindo a caminhada de 12 dias e 275 kms da cidade do Porto, no norte de Portugal, até Santiago de Compostela, na Espanha (a rota de uma peregrinação cristã milenar). E seguindo, depois de uma curta passagem pelos Estados Unidos, estamos de volta ao Brasil para passar vários meses com a família novamente.

Para começar minha aposentadoria (no meu aniversário - 29 de dezembro de 2021), escolhi como o meu hino da aposentadoria uma música do trovador argentino Alejandro Lerner, “Todo al Pulmón” (literalmente “a pleno pulmão”) ou “vida ao máximo”. Volto regularmente para ouvir novamente esta melodia e sua letra carregada, a “musa musical” para minha visão e compromisso de viver plenamente esses anos, aproveitar ao máximo a vida, envolver-me em ações e associações significativas, escrever bem, como me lembra a musa, essas “estrofes da minha última canção”.

Como as pessoas mais próximas de mim sabem e como um querido amigo cubano, Geosvanis, colocou em palavras, eu “não sou Americano branco (“gringo”) típico”. Formado por uma infância de crescimento multicultural e entre os indígenas Xavante (A’Uwe) no sertão do Brasil e posteriormente influenciada pelos estudos de Marx e da Teologia da Libertação, e com heróis pessoais que incluem nativo Winnebago ativista e líder espiritual Reuben Snake, internacionalista e revolucionário argentino/cubano Che Guevara, e o mártir centro-americano Monsenhor Oscar Romero – entre outros – descrevo a minha perspectiva do mundo como “crítica” e “profundamente cética em relação ao imperialismo dos EUA”.

E isso me traz ao momento presente. O ano passado foi um turbilhão e ainda não estamos em um lugar certo. Mas quando considero nosso mundo e a bagunça em que ele se encontra – com interesses imperiais e oligárquicos financiando guerras sem fim e atiçando as chamas de tendências racistas, xenófobas, ultranacionalistas e fascistas em um mundo que já se enfrenta a ameaça existencial do holocausto climático, o chamado para um aposentadoria de ação está na vanguarda. Como e onde posso me envolver, como e onde VOU me envolver para que essas próximas estrofes da minha vida cantem alto e claramente ao lado do anti-racismo, da justiça com e para os marginalizados, do lado de um mundo saudável e habitável para nossos filhos, netos e bisnetos, um mundo em que a comunidade e o bem-estar de todos os seres humanos e todos os seres vivos, incluindo nossa Mãe Terra, são nossa primeira e mais alta prioridade? Me investir nesta maneira é, para mim, viver “a vida ao máximo”, “Todo a Pulmon”.

 

Todo a Pulmon: Reflections on Retirement – Year 1

 What a whirlwind of a year!! After a short family visit to Brazil in January (2022), during a second visit (in April) to celebrate my mother-in-law’s 90^th birthday we put our house on the market, and three short days and five offers later we put up the sign: “SOLD.” Next we prepared and took off for a three-month stay in Portugal, including the 12-day, 170-mile walk from the city of Porto in northern Portugal to Santiago de Compostela in Spain (the route of a millennial Christian pilgrimage). And then, after a short stint back in the U.S. we are back in Brazil to spend several months with family again.

To begin my retirement (on my birthday - December 29, 2021), I chose as my retirement anthem a song by Argentine troubadour Alejandro Lerner, “Todo al Pulmón” (literally “at full lung,”) or “life to the fullest”. I have returned regularly to hear again this melody and its charged lyrics, the “musical muse” for my vision and commitment to live fully into these years, to make the most of life, to engage in meaningful actions and associations, to write well, as the muse reminds me, these “stanzas of my final song”.

As those closest to me know and as a dear Cuban friend, Geosvanis, put into words, I am “not your average American white boy.” Formed by a childhood of growing up multi-culturally and among Indigenous Xavante Natives in the outback of Brazil and later influenced by studies of Marx and Latin American Liberation Theology, and with personal heroes that include Winnebago Native activist and spiritual leader Reuben Snake, Argentinian/Cuban internationalist and revolutionary Che Guevara, and Central American martyr Monsignor Oscar Romero – among others – I describe my perspective on the world as “critical” and “deeply skeptical of U.S. imperialism.”

And this brings me to the present moment. The last year has been a whirlwind and we aren’t quite at a settling place yet. But as I consider our world and the mess it is in – with imperial and oligarchic interests funding unending wars and fanning the flames of racist, xenofobic, ultra-nationalist and fascist tendencies around a world already facing the existential threat of climate holocaust, the call to a retirement of action stands at the fore. How and where can I engage, how and where WILL I engage so that these next stanzas of my life sing loudly and clearly on the side of anti-racism, of justice with and for the marginalized, of a healthy, liveable world for our children, grand-children and great-grand-children, a world in which community and the well-being of all human beings and all living things including our Mother Earth are our first and highest priority? To invest myself in this way is, for me, to live “life to the fullest,” “Todo a Pulmon.”

APROFOBIA

APROFOBIA (“medo da pobreza ou do pobre”) Se tu ris da morte de um outro. Se celebras a dor de outro alguém. Se espalhas o ódio  aos ventos... Ruminando fraquezas no horror. Se não enxergas a fome nos olhos. Simplesmente porque você já comeu. Se não choras  ao clamor de um inocente. Me desculpe foi você quem morreu. Se não vês a angústia dormindo. Nas calçadas  do seu Bulevar. Se abominas  o que é diferente. Se proclamas divino ao julgar. Se não entendes o canto da terra e o caminho que ele teceu. Se acreditas que compras a verdade. Me desculpe  Foi você que morreu. JULIO CESAR DA COSTA

APOROFOBIA (“the fear of poverty or of the poor”) If you laugh at the death of another. If you celebrate the pain of someone else. If you spew hate to the winds . . . Pondering weakness in horror. If you do not see hunger in the eyes, Simply because  you have already eaten. If you shed no tear hearing the cry of an innocent. Excuse me but it was you who died. If you do not see anguish sleeping On the sidewalks  of the Boulevard. If you hate what is different [and] If you presume yourself divine when you judge. If you do not understand the earth’s music and the tune that it has strummed. If you believe  that you can buy the truth. Excuse me but it was you who died. JULIO CESAR DA COSTA (my brother-in-law)

Pensamentos no 4 de Julho – Dia da Independência dos EUA

Como muitos que  lêem este blog já sabem, passei a maior parte dos primeiros 16 anos da minha vida no Brasil. Não foi até os meus 40 anos que percebi que, culturalmente, sou profundamente brasileiro. Embora eu tenha nascido nos EUA (saí quando eu tinha 2 meses de idade), recordando a minha re-chegada aos EUA na minha adolescência, me reconheço essencialmente como um imigrante da primeira geração à esse país. Levou anos, mas no final uma identidade autêntica dos EUA foi moldada para que eu posso me sentir confortável socialmente e culturalmente nessa sociedade. No mesmo tempo, tenho que admitir que a minha maior fidelidade é com o Brasil, meu “país do coração”. Sempre que vou para lá, me sinto relaxado e em casa de maneiras que nunca sinto nos EUA.

Tambêm sou super crítico do papel dos EUA como império no mundo. As escolas, a mídia e a religião neste país ensinam e apóiam e até exigem lealdade a uma mitologia do excepcionalismo e benevolência dos EUA que qualquer observador objetivo vai perceber com facilidade que é patentemente falso. Ao contrário do mito, os EUA tem feito muito mais mal do que bom no mundo. Em contraste com a maioria dos cidadãos dos EUA, pessoas de outros países reconhecem prontamente esse fato. Embora eu seja crítico em relação aos EUA, também desejo que meu "país de nascimento" seja melhor do que é, para ser o melhor que pode ser. Algo nos moldes de um país como previsto e descrito em declarações e documentos oficiais promulgados pelo Papa Francisco seria o ideal.

Então, neste dia 4 de julho (Dia da Independencia dos EUA), enquanto desfruto dos fogos de artifício, não tenho grande entusiasmo patriótico, e nenhuma bandeira dos EUA acena na frente da minha casa ou do meu carro. (Eu digo “bandeira dos EUA”, não “bandeira americana”, porque o posteriór é um equívoco. A América inclui tudo, desde os confins do norte do Canadá e Alasca até a ponta mais meridional da Terra do Fogo na Argentina.) Alguns podem me considerar antipatriótica e, como eu escrivi, não tenho nenhuma forte lealdade aos Estados Unidos. (O momento atual em que estamos presenciando o desenvolvimento de um fascismo entrincheirado neste país - assim como no meu “país de coração, Brasil tambêm - é especialmente difícil.) Por outro lado, ser honesto sobre os pontos fortes e as fraquezas de uma nação, não sendo enganado pelo mito, mas disposto a desafiar as falhas e lutar para que a nação seja a melhor possível - talvez isso seja a maior forma de patriotismo.

Feliz 4 de Julho!

THOUGHTS ON THE 4TH OF JULY

As many of you who read this blog know, I spent most of the first 16 years of my life in Brazil. It wasn’t until I was in my early 40s that I realized that, culturally, I am deeply Brazilian.  Although I was born in the U.S. (left when I was 2 months old), looking back on my re-arrival in the U.S. in my teens, I have come to understand myself as essentially a first-generation immigrant to this country. It took me years, but eventually an authentic U.S. identity was shaped so that I am comfortable socially and culturally in this society.  However, I must admit that my greater allegiance is to Brazil, my “heart country.”  Whenever I go there, I feel relaxed and at-home in ways that I never feel in the U.S.

I am also very critical of the U.S. role as empire in the world. Schools, the media, and religion in this country teach and support and even demand allegiance to a mythology of U.S. exceptionalism and benevolence that any objective observer will clearly see is patently false. Contrary to the myth, the U.S. has done much more harm than good in the world.  In contrast to most U.S. citizens, people from other countries readily recognize and acknowledge this fact. While I am critical of the U.S., I also desire for this, my “birth country,” to be better than it is, to be the best that it can be.  Something along the lines of a country as envisioned and described in statements and official documents promulgated by Pope Francis would be ideal.

And so, on the 4^th of July, while I enjoy the fireworks, I feel no great patriotic enthusiasm, and no U.S. flag waves in the front of my house or off my car. (I say “U.S. flag,” not “American flag,” because the latter is a misnomer.  America includes everything from the northern reaches of Canada and Alaska to the most southern tip of Tierra del Fuego in Argentina.) Some may consider me unpatriotic and, as I’ve said, I hold no strongly felt allegiance to the U.S. (The present moment in which we are witnessing the development of an entrenched fascism in this country – as well as in my heart country of Brazil - it is especially difficult.)  On the other hand though, being honest about the strengths AND the weaknesses of a nation, not being taken in by the myth but being willing to challenge the faults and strive for the nation to be the best it can – perhaps that is the greatest form of patriotism. 

Happy 4^th!

TRINITY

So, today is what is called, in the liturgical calendar of the Christian church, Trinity Sunday – a day when we recall the divine as imaged in Christian tradition. Not only for those who were not formed in this tradition but for those who were, it is a bit of a puzzle.  God is one but at the same time three,  named Father, Son, and Holy Spirit;  or Creator, Savior, and Spirit. 

Those of us in Christian communities are offered a variety of images to help us understand this conundrum. I remember as a child being told that I could image the Trinity as an egg.  There is shell, white and yolk, and yet the egg is one. This morning projected on the screen at the front of the church was another common image – three overlapping circles. 

I could recite other examples as well but these don’t really work because, in the end the shell, white, and yolk are actually distinguishable and separate things.  The circles, although joined, are in fact three separate circles. But according to the tradition, the three of the Trinity are not exactly three, but One, a tri-unity!

The ancient theologians worked out the formulae: “three persons, one substance;” or, as stated of Jesus in the Nicene Creed: “God from God, Light from Light, True God from True God . . .” The intent is to ensure that we do not understand that there are three Gods.  Although there are distinct and seemingly separate functions, and although Jesus makes reference to the Father and the Spirit as though they are distinct from himself, the tradition insists that there is but one God. Confusing enough?

Hmm!! So why am I writing about this? My purpose in this blog is to articulate, as best I can, where I stand - where I am coming from in terms of faith and understanding - and to suggest how faith and understanding connect with real-world practice, particularly in a practice that aims toward creating a world of greater justice and equality. So, if I were left only with the logical conundrum of understanding the Trinity I probably would have left the notion of Trinity behind long ago.  But, in fact, I have come across ways to approach this concept of God that I do in fact find fruitful.

 

One of the best studies I have read on this subject is the book by Brazilian liberation theologian Leonardo Boff, titled Trinity and Society.  Boff offers a rich reflection on the historical stages and development of the doctrine of the Trinity, which helps bring clarity to the process even if it does not satisfy the conundrum.  However, the insight that Boff provides that I find most valuable is to see the divine as not a lone, isolated, caught-up-in-itself, solitary, figure (Gollum of “Lord of the Rings” comes to mind) but rather as a relational, communal reality within itself. 

Now, I recognize that that does not resolve the logical challenge.  But if one believes in a reality greater than the universe perceived by our five human senses – which I do – and if one agrees that somehow the ideal toward which we are called is one of peaceful, just, community and that somehow this calling is embedded in the very nature and substance of our World (with a big “W”), then it make sense that the Over-arching Reality, call it the Divine, be itself relational and communal. Boff argues that part of the genius of the Christian faith is to have recognized this inter-personal, relational, community quality of the divine.  Personally, for me – David Crump – this is what is valuable.  The metaphors of “Father,” “Son,” and “Spirit” are useful and, as someone whose first faith (as in first language) was Christianity, I find personal and emotive meaning in them but as someone who recognizes that Truth is represented in many and varied ways within human religious and cultural experience, I am not limited to the trinitarian paradigm of Christianity.  However, I value the sense that the Foundation, the Great Mover, the Creator, the Spirit – whatever name one uses – is relational and communal within itself.

Andrei Rublev's Sanctissima Trinitas

A second fruitful reflection for me on the Trinity comes through an ancient visual image, the icon titled “Sanctissima Trinitas,” painted by the Russian monk, Andrei Rublev, in the fifteenth century.  The image features three figures – representing the three traditional persons of the Trinity - sitting and in conversation at a table.  Again, this does not solve the three-in-one conundrum.  In fact, the image suggests three rather than one. But the richness of this image comes in something else for me.  Henri Nouwen, one of my favorite spiritual writers provides a beautiful, prayerful meditation on the icon in his book Behold the Beauty of the Lord: Praying with Icons.  He points out that, as we approach the painting, we see an open space before us at the front of the table, and if we reflect on this we can come to understand that we are being invited to “participate in the intimate conversation that is taking place among the three . . . and to join them at the table.”(p. 20)  One tradition concerning this icon says that the painting originally featured a mirror in the space at the front of the table, so that when the worshiper approached the icon they would actually see themselves reflected in the image. So, the relational communion within Spirit itself becomes an invitation for us to be a part of that holy communion and, in a bigger sense, we are invited to form and join one great communion with all of humankind, our sisters and brothers.

Bringing out the historical context of conflict and destruction taking place in fifteenth-century Russia, Nouwen offers that part of the intention of the icon is that, as we are drawn ever more deeply into this mysterious place of communion, “we come to understand how to be committed to the struggle for justice and peace in the world while remaining at home in God’s love.” (p. 27)

So, on this Trinity Sunday, I am not so concerned about figuring out the logic of three and one, but I open myself to the vision of a holy communion gathered and committed to working together to create a world more in the image of the Holy One, a world of true community, justice, and peace. 

SIGNS OF THE TIMES: THE WORLD IS ABOUT TO TURN

In my first post on "signs of the times," I offered a reflection on the meaning of the phrase. Referring to the work of liberation theologian, Ignacio Ellacuría, a distinction was made between signs of  “sin” - those things which on both a personal and social or structural level negate life, and signs of “grace” – those things that both personally and structurally give life.

So, in considering our world today and in reflecting on where we are called, as people of faith, to make our stand, the questions we must ask are:  Where are the places and what are the actions and structures that negate life, that literally kill, in our world?  And where are the places and what are the actions and structures that support and bring life in our world?  I suppose that there are many responses that could be given to each of these questions.  Here I highlight some that come to mind.

Much of our society, worldwide it would seem, is driven not by a concern for people but by a primary commitment to the all-powerful dollar. And so, in the U.S. we have people in power who deny that humans are contributing to global warming – not because they don’t know better (regardless of what they may claim), but because affirming that premise threatens their short-term wealth accumulation.  It amazes me that even though this position could very well spell death for their own children and grandchildren, they somehow cannot let go.  This same driving force leads to wars as well that, contrary to the official storyline (from both political parties in the U.S.), are not about fighting for democracy and freedom but are about petroleum and minerals and economic advantages and control.  Similarly, global economic decisions are driven by the insistence on never-ending growth, access to and growing new markets, and protecting and growing profits without regard to any potential “collateral damage.” Built on this premise of the primacy of the dollar and of profits (for the few), i.e., the value center of global capitalism, we see death reflected in many ways.  People are dying because of racist prejudices and social structures.  People are dying because of anti-immigrant attitudes and policies.  People are dying because dollars are prioritized for war, at the expense of healthcare, education, and services to support and make life abundant.  The flip side of that coin is that people are dying because of wars – the war machine that destroys cities, and countrysides, and nations, that results in young men and women returning to their homes in body bags, that results in non-combatants literally dying or having their life and livelihoods completely destroyed.  People are dying, fleeing from violence, war, and economic disaster; seeking safety or a better life and being refused by nations who stereotype their presence. People are dying because our global system ensures advantage for a few to maximize their gain (the 1%) at the expense of the rest of us, resulting in a rapidly-increasing gap between the rich and poor, and in an increasing poverty around the world.  Although we have the resources to feed the entire world today, millions go to bed hungry each day and millions die of hunger every year.  These are just a few examples of what I see as acts and systems in our world today that are, in the words of Ellacuría, objectifying the power of sin, that are the vehicles of that power against humanity, against human life; in other words, vehicles of death.

Thankfully, these are not the only signs we see in our times.  Although at times it may seem that the vehicles of death have the upper hand, we also see signs of grace or, as my friend Geraldo suggested recently, “signs of hope.”  Signs of grace are those commitments and actions that stand over against the signs of sin.  In the face of death, they speak to us about the possibility of hope and life. And, as people of faith, it is here that we are called to place our actions and even our very lives - on the side of grace, on the side of hope. What are some of these signs in our times?

Again, the primary context I am reflecting on is the United States. One of the signs of life that I see is a sometimes-independent judiciary (a fragment of democracy still intact in this country).  On some occasions judges have acted to block anti-immigrant and anti-refugee policies and, in at least one case a police officer was recently charged with murder after shooting a black man running from him. [*] Another sign of grace, in my view, is DACA recipients and other immigrants who, at great risk to their own security, are openly challenging the politics and politicians bent on deporting them.[†]  Another sign of hope is that movements are joining each other across lines of race, immigrant status, age, and gender, to take to the streets by the thousands all across this country, challenging politicians who are doing the bidding of monied donors while ignoring the death-dealing impact of policies on the lives and in the communities of their constituents.  On Valentine’s Day this year, we sadly witnessed yet another school shooting, the massacre of 17 people at the Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida – clearly a sign of the death powers at work in our nation and society.  But the sign of grace in response is that students of the Parkland school, joined in solidarity by students and others all across the country, are standing up, taking on politicians and the NRA face-to-face, to demand change, to demand that our representatives place themselves on the side of life, even if it means denying the idolizing power of the dollar.  These students are not succumbing to the detracting rhetoric coming from the mouths of politicians, but are speaking truth to power about guns and making it clear that those who choose not to stand on the side of life will be voted out.[‡]  A further sign of hope and a signal of possible change is that several dozen companies have now withdrawn their support for the NRA. These actions reflect a primary commitment, not to money and power but are, in Ellacuría’s words “vehicles for the power that favors human life” – certainly some of the many signs of grace and hope in our times.

One final observation.  I recognize, or at least it seems to me, that the signs of sin and death appear to have the upper hand today.  The money interests (and their political puppets) in our world seem to be especially brash and unreserved in their all-out effort to establish absolute hegemony and power. They unabashedly align themselves with the powers of disregard for the interests of the majority while protecting the concerns of their own narrow group, the 1%.  However, even in this, in a perhaps not so obvious way, I see a sign of grace and promise of life, because I believe that what we are witnessing is the end of an epoch.  The world as we know it, the world structured around the extraction of resources - both natural and human – and capital is coming to an end.  Those who have held power and benefited from this arrangement see the end coming, and so are fighting with all they have to keep it going.  But this system has run its course.  What we are living today is the capitalist system coming apart at the seams.  As Karl Marx predicted more than a century and a half ago, capitalism will destroy itself and, out of the rubble, a new system will be born.[§]  It is my view that we are somewhere in this destruction/rebirth process today.[**]  And, so, it is in our hands to determine what the new reality will be.  The possibility is available in the present generation to put in place the building blocks for a world that prioritizes sustainability and life – a sign and opportunity for grace, for hope in our times!

In the words of the Canticle of the Turning: 

"THE WORLD IS ABOUT TO TURN!"

IT'S UP TO US!

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[*] http://www.bbc.com/news/world-us-canada-30339943

[†] http://www.nydailynews.com/new-york/immigrant-rights-activist-ravi-ragbir-granted-stay-deportation-article-1.3810181

[‡] See “A Gun Culture in Collapse” http://www.truth-out.org/opinion/item/43662-behold-the-reckoning-of-a-gun-culture-in-collapse

[§] See “Marx’s Analysis of Capitalism” https://www-tc.pbs.org/wgbh/commandingheights/shared/pdf/ess_marxsanalysis.pdf

[**] Emily Kawano, Coordinator of the US Solidarity Network speaks of this transition in terms of what she calls the developing “solidarity economy.” It is about an economy taking shape in many small and larger places and ways all around the world, an economy, states Kawano, “that works for people and planet as opposed to private profit and blind growth.” Click here to read or listen to a podcast where Kawano discusses in more detail how she sees the development of this new economy. 

SIGNS OF THE TIMES - REFLECTION 1

I don’t know about you, the person reading this blog, but me - I must confess that this past year has been a pretty discouraging time here in the U.S. and, from what I can tell, around much of the world.  This blog is about “journeying inward,” to find spiritual stamina and groundedness and from that grounding to “journey outward” to be engaged in community and in the world, to live out and make real the values and truths discovered in the inward journey.  And then, continuing, from the experiences, challenges and victories of the journey outward, to journey inward again for clarity and renewing – an ongoing, inward and outward moving.  While the description sounds individual, the best practice is that it be a shared, communal movement of people together.  And it does not need to be only people sitting in the same room together, but people sharing their experience through all variety of media and across distances of place and time – people that may not actually know each other personally, but who gain nourishment and encouragement and hope from each other’s reflections and actions.

But this past year has been a tough one, for myself and for many people I know.  Here in the U.S., the unanticipated election of a president whose name I refuse to put in print, and so refer to as #45, has turned out to be more disastrous and demoralizing than we ever imagined, as our hearts sank watching the results come in on election night.  While this administration has for the most part been a failure on the legislative front, they have moved at lightning speed to - in the words of former White House advisor and now critic of the President, Steve Bannon – “deconstruct the [so-called] administrative state.” And, in so doing, they are successfully setting aside and undermining policies that have taken decades to achieve.  UN Human Rights Spokesperson, Rupert Colville, in a video posted by the United Nations, correctly characterizes the views expressed by #45 as going “against the universal values the world has been striving so hard to establish since World War II and the holocaust.” He goes on to state that the views of this “political figure” (he too refuses to offer the dignity of giving a name) “open the door to humanity’s worst side . . . encouraging and validating racism and xenophobia.”  So, that is what we are living here in the United States, a reality that impacts not only this nation but people and realities around the world.

I have also watched, over the last year and a half as my “heart country,” Brazil, has progressed down a similarly (if not worse) destructive path.  Initiated by a U.S.-supported parliamentary coup that removed the elected president from power, the imposed government moved quickly to set a course that clearly favors a wealthy, powerful and corrupt minority while under-cutting and removing policies that benefit average citizens, targeting especially those programs that benefit and provide a safety net for workers and the poor. And it is not only here in the U.S. and in Brazil.  Listening to the news it seems that much of the world is in crisis.

FAITH TRADITIONS SPEAK OF
"SIGNS OF THE TIMES"

Faith traditions speak of  “signs of the times.” Within the gospel tradition of the Christian faith, in being questioned by the religious authorities of his day, Jesus responded to them with a challenge. “Looking at the sky,” he said, “you know how to judge the weather, however you do not know how to judge the signs of the times” (Matthew 16:3).

As a kid, growing up in the outback of Brazil, I was pretty good at predicting the time and weather by looking at the sky. Trying to understand what is going on in our world, and attempting to envision what our present choices might mean for the future . . .  well that’s a bit tougher!  In this regard though, Ignacio Ellacuría - President of the University of Central America (UCA) in El Salvador from 1979 to 1989, a leading voice in Latin American liberation theology, and a martyr for justice – provides a helpful framework for consideration.  In his essay titled “The Historicity of Salvation,”[1] he offers two lenses for looking at the world. There are, he suggests, “actions that kill life, and [on the other hand] actions that give life.”  Those actions and systems that kill life, he refers to as “sin;” and actions that give life, he names “grace.”[2] 

These qualities, he argues, occur not only within personal, individual actions, but are expressed systemically as well.  “Some social and historical structures,” Ellacuría argues, “objectify the power of sin and serve as vehicles for that power against humanity, against human life,” what he refers to as “structural sin.” By contrast, other “social and historical structures objectify grace and serve as vehicles for that power [that] favors human life,” which he refers to as “structural grace.”[3]  Sin and grace are not to be understood here “primarily from a moral viewpoint . . . but from the perspective of that which makes God’s life [absent, or] present among human beings.”[4]

Although I never met him in person, through his books Ellacuría has become a mentor to me.  I have found his thought to be inspiring and deeply profound, offering a theology and faith that nurture my own;  that are not about “pie in the sky,” but a following of Jesus, in a grounded “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth . . .”[5] way.  His reflection on sin and grace, I believe offers a concrete way to read the signs of our times,  a critical criterion for discerning where and how we are called, as people of faith, to place ourselves in this world. 

Where are the places and what are the actions and structures that negate life, that literally kill, in our world?  And where are the places and what are the actions and structures that give life, that bring life in our world?  We will consider these questions in my next posting.

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[1] Michael Lee, ed., Ignacio Ellacuría: Essays on History, Liberation, and Salvation. (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 2013), 137-168.

[2] Ibid., p. 150

[3] Ibid.

[4] Ibid.

[5] From the prayer that Jesus taught his followers.  Our Father, who art in heaven . . .

Christmas: A Story of Faith and Resistance

Christmas today, it seems to me, is largely characterized by two images:  the lullaby-ified Jesus and the consumer holiday. Even as I write this piece, I hear playing in the background the Mormon Tabernacle Choir’s version of the Little Drummer Boy.  The lyrics reference a king, but the resounding sentiment of the  music and words frames a sweet encounter of child and baby.  And the always favorite Silent Night, written in 1818 by an Austrian minister, the story is told, as he gazed down one evening from a hilltop overlooking his peaceful, snow-covered village. The visuals we see at Christmas time – whether on cards, manger scenes, or in store windows further contribute to this lullaby-ified sense:  soft, romantic scenes, connoting that “all is bright, all is white.”  White, as in beautifully, peacfully snow-covered, but also in the strangely white faces of this Palestinian holy family and child.

Sculpture by Peruvian Sculptor Edilberto Mérida Rodríguez.
Photography: Billie Greenwood*

On the other hand, Christmas today is characterized by the commercial holiday. Giving gifts at Christmas time originates in the story of a fourth century Bishop Nicholas, resident of the city of Myra in what is modern-day Turkey, who became known for his anonymous generosity to a very poor family in his town. This story was later developed to create numerous traditions, including that of Santa Clause, of a mystical, secret Christmas gift-giver.

In today’s world though, with essentially every aspect of our day-to-day lives immersed in the raging waters of savage capitalism, market interests have grabbed this tradition of gift-giving and put it on massive doses of steroids. In the bombardment of advertising and store displays – and in the implied guilt if we fail to buy and give -  we are called to make Christmas an orgy of consumption.  Pull out those credit cards.  Wrack up the bills today, and don’t worry about paying them until later.   After all, what make the world go ‘round is money, right?!?

But wait – let’s step back for a moment. The story of Christmas is embedded in something ancient – something even more ancient than the story of the birth of Jesus.  The writer of Matthew’s Gospel (chapter 1, vss 18-24) tells us that the true meaning of Christmas is to be found in the words of the Jewish prophet Isaiah. If we pay attention to what is being said by the prophet, we will realize that our lullaby-ified Jesus and commercialized Christmas have it all wrong. 

Isaiah speaks to the people of Judah at a time when they face the threat of war and defeat, when they fear for their lives and safety.  In this context the prophet brings a promise of hope.  “God will show you a sign: A young woman with child will name her child Emmanuel” (Isaiah 7:1-25).  The name, Emmanuel, means “God is with us” or “God is in our midst.”  The message of Isaiah to the people is – “Don’t be afraid, don’t give in or give up. In the face of the challenges before you, have faith and resist.  This is not a time for fear or despair, but a time for defiance and hope!  The child – a simple child – is the sign, the tangible symbol of the fact that you are not alone.  It is the promise that through faith and by standing in resistance, a radically new future is possible.

 

That, my friends, is the true message of the baby in the manger!  Not a sweet lullaby-ified Jesus, and certainly not a call to the material gluttony of the savagely capitalist world of Wall Street or the Trump Enterprises.  Rather the brown-faced baby Jesus, born as an outcast in a danky, smelly, manger surrounded by barn animals and shepherds – the lowest of non-persons in his society;  this Jesus, who would days after his birth become a refugee in Egypt and who would later be falsely accused and murdered by the state;  this Jesus is not the sweet baby lying gently on soft, glistening strands of golden hay, nor the “dreaming of a white Christmas” Jesus beckoning to buy and buy more.  No, this Jesus is one who came as a sign, as a call to faith and resistance - to us today in a world of greed and violence; a world where our taxes pay for endless wars, where our leaders demonize immigrants, ostracize refugees and disregard the killing of black people on our streets, where our governments make our nations poor in order to further enrich the 1%, where there is disregard and a cutting of funds to assist the sick, the poor, the homeless.  In this world, the baby Jesus is our sign, our tangible symbol and promise that we are not alone.  The baby in a manger is an announcement of hope and at the same time a call.  We are called to be a people who believe and who instead of giving into fear and backing down, take a stand.  The baby calls us to be a people who resist evil and injustice, and who engage the struggle for a world of true freedom and justice, a world with the promise of a radically new future!

Merry Christmas!**

_________________________________________________________________________

* To see more of Billie Greenwood's photography go to       

    https://www.flickr.com/photos/borderexplorer/albums/72157628747678581

** Click here to see a short poem of Christmas Resistance that I posted last Christmas.

I MAKE MY STAND ON THE SIDE OF PEACE AND AGAINST VIOLENCE

I MAKE MY STAND: A PERSONAL MANIFESTO AND CALL TO ACTION

Following are links to the earlier posts in this series:

• INTRODUCTION
• I MAKE MY STAND . . . WITH IMMIGRANTS
• I MAKE MY STAND . . . WITH MOTHER EARTH AND ALL HER CREATURES
• I MAKE MY STAND . . . WITH THE MARGINALIZED
• I MAKE MY STAND . . . WITH PEOPLES OF ALL FAITHS AND THOSE WHO CLAIM NO FAITH
• I MAKE MY STAND . . . ON THE SIDE OF PEACE AND AGAINST WAR

I MAKE MY STAND ON THE SIDE OF PEACE

AND AGAINST VIOLENCE

In the light of recent events, when I think of violence here in the U.S., I think of the cowardly white minorities who, in the heritage of Adolf Hitler and the Nazis, envision themselves as a master race, and call for violent uprising against government and for the destruction of the Jews and of all people of color.  I would be remiss if, in our current context I did not state clearly that I have nothing but disdain for such small, hate-filled, unfathomably ignorant disregard for the brotherhood/sisterhood of all humankind.

However, a more prominent and constant form of violence here in the U.S. is the violence carried out by the government against its citizens.  (A similar argument could be made concerning governments of other countries, but here I will focus on the country where I live and have my citizenship.) What do I mean when I refer to violence carried out by the U.S. government? I refer to neighborhoods and communities - especially of African Americans, Latinos, Native Americans, and other so-called “minorities” - that languish year after year, decade after decade in abject poverty.  In terms of the quality of education, access to basic services, availability of healthcare resources and even the availability of grocery stores, these communities are considered “deserts.” They exist in inner cities as well as in rural areas.  Add to this the fact that over the last 30+ years wealth in this country has been concentrated in the hands of a smaller and smaller group, called the “one percent,” and that this transfer of wealth is carried out on the backs of workers, the middle class, and the poor.  The failure to address or, until the last two or three years even acknowledge, the unharnessed reality of police brutality against communities of color, and the explosion in the number of Black and Latino young men, especially, who crowd the privatized prison system.  The failure in this country to own up to the racism at its historical and present core.  The evermore uninhibited and violent expressions of anti-immigrant, anti-Black, anti-LGBT, and anti-women sentiments that are allowed to grow, unchecked. The fact that we allowed water hoses, attack dogs, and rubber bullets to be used against Native Americans peacefully protesting once again an illegal infringement on their lands.  

THIS IS THE REALITY OF VIOLENCE IN THESE UNITED STATES, UN-NAMED

BY THE POWERS-THAT-BE AND AGAINST WHICH I MAKE MY STAND!

In the present moment, I must state clearly that while I stand on the side of peace, I do not consider myself a pacifist.  I am sure I have much to learn in this area from the great ones, like Martin Luther King, Ghandi, and Thomas Merton.  But I also resonate with revolutionary priests, like Fathers Camilo Torres of Colombia, and Rogelio Poncel in El Salvador, who believed that at times our faith calls us to join the people in armed revolt against the systemic violence suffered for too long.[1] They argue that the act of rebellion, of active resistance is, in fact, an act of love, justified as a response of standing with those who have suffered life-times and generations of violence.

Writing about the situation in Latin America – but words that I believe apply equally to the United States today – the Catholic Bishops meeting in Medellin, Colombia in 1968 declared that the lived experience of misery and exploitation of the people[2] is “a situation of injustice that can be called institutionalized violence [that is] responsible for the death of thousands of innocent victims.” “This view,” writes theologian Gustavo Gutierrez, “allows for a study of the complex problems of counterviolence without falling into the pitfalls of a double standard which assumes that violence is acceptable when the oppressor uses it to maintain ‘order’ [but] is bad when the oppressed invoke it to change this ‘order.’ Institutionalized violence violates fundamental rights so patently that the . . . bishops warn that ‘one should not abuse the patience of a people that for years has borne a situation that would not be acceptable to anyone with any degree of awareness of human rights.’”

“Let us by all means,” they continue, “avoid equating the unjust violence of the oppressors (who maintain this despicable system) with the just violence of the oppressed (who feel obliged to use it to achieve their liberation.”[3]

And so, it is in this area of gray – of standing against the unjust violence of the system

and on the side of those (myself included) seeking liberation –

that I make my stand

for peace.

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[1] I have a great deal of respect for journalist, author and Presbyterian minister, Chris Hedges.  He wrote an article recently entitled “How Antifa Mirrors the Alt-right,” where he argues that armed insurrection on the left actually feeds into supporting the goals of the right.  I’ve read the article and because of my respect for Hedges over-all perspective and approach, I feel I need to ponder it carefully and perhaps look at some other sources that would challenge the stance I am expressing here.

[2] Think of the people of Puerto Rico who our President threatens to desert and forget; or the millions, mostly poor, who may lose their health insurance because of policy decisions being taken in the White House; or the unarmed African American men and women whose images and names we have seen on the news, who have been shot in cold blood by police officers; or the Native people and their supporters who, for engaging their right of protest, were hosed down in below-zero temperatures by private security personnel and officers of the law; or the DACA young people who, after living almost their entire lives in this country, may be deported; or the millions of men, women and children all across the Middle East,  made refugees and killed by bombings and conflict either waged directly by the U.S. or paid for with the tax dollars of U.S. citizens.  The list goes on, and on!!

[3] Gustavo Gutierrez, A Theology of Liberation (15^th Anniversary Edition) (Maryknoll, N.Y., Orbis Books), pp. 63-64.