Theology for the Masses

I try to stay out of politics as much as I can.  However, I did leave some feedback on a column over at Worldview Network that I bloged about the other day.  Much to my surprise, it survived moderation and even received two responses.  Since all of this reflects how I see the Kingdom of God and the Kingdom of America interacting, I thought I’d copy the discussion here.

My first comment:

How much should Christians be involved in political affairs? I don’t see Jesus or Paul or anyone of the New Cov era getting involved with Rome’s invasions or defense. I wonder (and I am not sold either way) if we followers of the prince of peace should be concerned with advancing and defending America’s political, economic, and cultural power and instead be concerned with showing God’s love to the world though our deeds and actions and rhetoric. What do you think?

First Reply by Lou

JESUS CARED FOR ALL

Are we not to lead all men to Jesus Christ. Would that not include people in the government, people of the government, and people for the government. I try to show the Way of Jesus Christ by all that do or do not do. Jesus was concerned for every single person and died for all. Should I be unconcerned about one group trying to take the property of others or even one group trying to take the life of the poorest and weakest and most innocent of the humans here on this earth. We know that most of these illegal immigrants have a religion that is hostile to true Christianity. Our government is giving this nation away to those who have not shed any blood, sweat, or tears for it. Should we not protect the innocent in this matter. I do care about a van load of children being killed by Mexican trucks that can not even read our signs let alone obey our laws. Lou

Second Reply by John

answer

Well, Christianity is giving. If we say we have love and aren’t involved in the affairs of the world, do we have love? You say Jesus was not involved in the affairs of the world, however, he battled the world, the world systems, and their beliefs. This is why He is hated and why we are to be hated. Jesus also said to give unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s. He said this because governments are instituted by God and we are to be salt and light, defend righteousness, and be bold. To put this all together, I would say faith and love requires action. As for the USA, we still should defend the good and proactively try to change the bad. The principles of freedom and democracy are biblical and worth defending, bondage (Egypt) is the alternative and the unsaved seek it. John

My Response to John and Lou:

Hey, Thanks for the gentle feedback Lou and John. I appreciate your thoughts.  So, Lou, you rightly say that Jesus cared and died for all.  I think we should very much be concerned about one group taking the lives and livelihood from another group of people.  What I am not sure about is if war with that first group of people is the best way forward.  Why are we upset with one group taking from another?  Because it denies the image of God present in the second group.  Our challenge is to respond to the situation that shows Christ’s love for both the attackers and the attacked.  How do we as citizens of the Kingdom of God help the situation without denying the images of God in the attackers?  Christ loves and died for them as well.  I am not advocating any sort of easy solution, but rushing to defend them through killing their enemies seems to fly in the face of what Jesus advocates.

Lou, you also talk about how most illegal immigrants are hostile to Christianity and suggest that on this basis we keep them out.  (I might be misrepresenting you on this point, so let me know if I am, for that is not my intention.)  Assuming for the moment that this is the case, I love the idea of having people move in around me that are hostile to Christianity, for there are more opportunities to grow the Kingdom of God and help restore interpersonal relationships and to help them get to know their creator and to trust in Him for their salvation.

John, I completely agree with you when you say that we need to be involved in the affairs of this world.  I agree wholeheartedly.  I think we disagree in terms of how we go about doing that.  I see us as citizens of the Kingdom of God first and American citizens second.  As such, I think that Christians as a group and individually should act from our primary membership, as citizens of God’s Kingdom, not America’s Republic.  Jesus did confront the world, but he did not battle it (in terms of physical aggression, that is).  He used teaching, aid, and relationships to transform the world.  We should, as citizens of His Kingdom, employ the same tactics.  We are called to be good citizens, to be sure and God has instituted the governments of America (and Iran and China by the same logic).  But we are to be citizens of God’s Kingdom first and to our local political systems second.  I think (and I could be wrong) that God’s Kingdom would be better served if we acted via God’s Kingdom rather than via America’s interests and methods. 

What do you think?

Meredith and I are trying to decide where to worship this coming Sunday.  Should we go down to the courthouse and worship our great country or drive 30 minutes to the state capital to show our allegiance to Rome America?

All snarkyness aside, what should the attitude of citizens of the Kingdom of God be towards their place of temporal residence?  I thank God that I live in such a libertine country, but I don’t want that to spill over into worship of the nation and slipping into placing my allegiance to the nation over the Kingdom.

How do you all construct and resolve this problem?

John 18:38:

Jesus answered, “My Kingdom is not an earthly kingdom. If it were, my followers would fight to keep me from being handed over to the Jewish leaders. But my Kingdom is not of this world.”

Two things come to mind as questions to think about:

1. What does this mean for Christians and governments?
2. Is the kingdom of god that we hear so much about on earth now?  Or is it just something that comes later?

“And in His teaching He was saying: ‘Beware of the scribes who like to walk around in long robes, and like respectful greetings in the market places, and chief seats in the synagogues, and places of honor at banquets, who devour widows’ houses, and for appearance’s sake offer long prayers; these will receive greater condemnation.’ And He sat down opposite the treasury, and began observing how the multitude were putting money into the treasury; and many rich people were putting in large sums. And a poor widow came and put in two small copper coins, which amount to a cent. And calling His disciples to Him, He said to them, ‘Truly I say to you, this poor widow put in more than all the contributors to the treasury; for they all put in out of their surplus, but she, out of her poverty, put in all she owned, all she had to live on.’”

– Mark 12:38-44

The widow in this story is always held up as a model of faithful giving. Though she has almost nothing, she gives everything she has. In doing so, she give far more than all the rich whose monetary contributions were exponentially larger. And so we read Jesus’ statement about her as a commendation. But Dr. Rodney Reeves once asked me this profound question: did Jesus see her gift as admirable or tragic? Just the day before this, Jesus cleansed the Temple and proclaimed its destruction. He’s spent today in the Temple arguing with the religious leaders there. And now he’s criticizing the rich who oppress the poor, and even warns that they ‘devour widows’ houses’ while appearing religious (this of course despite the fact that God said true religion is caring for widows). Here is a woman who is a victim of a corrupt, oppressive religious system, and she’s so enmeshed in the hegemony of that system that she is giving everything she has to the very system that’s oppressing her. Indeed, this woman is tragic. We can applaud her act of giving, but we cannot applaud the object of that gift. We should weep that she’s sacrificing everything for a broken, corrupted system that Jesus has promised will fall.

So too, today. I hear at least once weekly – usually in prayers – that we should be thankful for our soldiers fighting in Iraq who “are willing to make the ultimate sacrifice” because we remember that “freedom isn’t free.” But isn’t it? Isn’t that the point of grace? That we don’t earn any of it? And isn’t it “for freedom that Christ set us free”? In fact, our nation has cultivated a culture of violence and death. And we support our culture of consumption and irresponsibility in large part through our military action around the globe. Now, I’m not going to deny that the American armed forces do a lot of great things. But this does not detract from the fact that they also enact terrible acts of violence in order to support the American way of life. But we know that this life is unbiblical. We are called to use what we need and give the rest away. We are called to serve others first and think of ourselves last. We are called to extol the image of God in all of our brothers and sisters, not to dehumanize them. We are called to care for the poor, to welcome the stranger, not legislate against them. And yet we do the very things we were commanded not to do. And we know that no kingdom is eternal save the Kingdom of God.

And our soldiers are as much victims of this corrupt system as any of us. But they’re so enmeshed in the hegemony of that system (as are we all, I think) that they are giving everything they have to the very system that’s oppressing them (and so many others around the globe). Indeed, they are tragic. We can applaud their act of giving, but we cannot applaud the object of that gift. We should week that they’re sacrificing everything for a broken, corrupted system that Jesus has promised will fall.

Our service men and women don’t need to fight for our freedom. S/he whom the son sets free is free indeed. One man died for our freedom. One man made (literally) the ultimate sacrifice. And he did it that no one else ever need die to purchase what is already paid for.

May we learn what true freedom is.

Faith lived out.

H/T: Scott Parsons.

One of the themes in my Sunday school class is justice. We have looked at God’s desire for material justice [1] in the world. We have looked at such verses as Isaiah 61:8, Zech 7:8-10, and James 1:27; all of which make it crystal clear that one of our functions in this world is to work towards material justice as well as the spiritual redemption of humankind.

I get the small scale application of this issue. Well, I am lying, I kinda get it. I know how to act justly towards the individual people in my life. I might not be overly good at it, but it is something I am working towards.

I μέν see individual Christians working towards peace and material justice in individual lives as the answer to Ivan’s moral problem with God in “Rebellion,” what δέ I can’t see is how this works on a large scale. I am of the firm understanding that throwing money at the problem (and here I am most specifically thinking about aid to Africa here) only at best perpetuates the problem and quite possibly makes things worse.

Also, I am not a big fan of certain statistics used in showing the gap in material possessions between our world and the developing world. Statistics such as “X people only make $1 a day” assume that the base model for human life is a capitalistic, consumeristic model, as if to say the problem won’t be fixed until They make as much money as Us. Now, at the same time, I see the usefulness of these stats, they help shatter certain conceptions about the material conditions in which these peoples find themselves and help to highlight the need for justice in their lives. What I don’t want to do is bring the God of materialism along with the God of Christianity to the Other.

Whenever I go a thinking about a widespread, “big picture” plan of action, I keep coming the conclusion that a political solution is needed. Given the nature of certain countries’ leaders, a political solution must be predicated by a military solution. Yet, all of this seems to go against my “Kingdom of God” theology. As such, I am at a loss. I know how I would go about trying to fix the problem apart from Christian values, but when I factor those in, I am left with a myriad of contradictions.

And yet, God still demands that we help those in need, and I am to do what God demands. What I need here in an infusion of creativity and ideas. How can we help those in need in the concrete?

I get the need, I need a plan.

1. By material justice, I don’t mean equal possessions. I am talking about real and tangible justice in this world, as contrasted with waiting around for the just situation we will find in the next. [↩]

I know most of our authors and readers live outside the Columbia, MO area, but I wanna highlight some interesting public forums coming up in the next few weeks.

Greg Boyd at Woodcrest – January 12, 6:30 PM

Join us this week for author and guest speaker Greg Boyd “Helter Skelter to Hyper Disciple.” For those of you who are still trying to put the logical pieces together regarding the reliability of the claims of Christ, Greg will be sharing more of his personal journey through unbelief and the hurdles he had to overcome intellectually in coming to faith in Christ.

Theology Weekend Feb. 1-3

Tom Schreiner is visiting Columbia in a few weeks to engage in series of talks and debates on the person and work of Jesus. Friday there is a debate with a Unitarian Minister and guest from the local Mosque. Saturday there is an informal Q and A with him at the Cherry Street Artisan. The weekend concludes with two lectures, one on the person of Jesus at the Tiger Ballroom and one on the work of Jesus at Theology at The Forge and Vine.

Robert Wuthnow “The Global Reach of American Christianity” Monday, 14 April 2008, 7:00 pm Stotler Lounge, Memorial Union

This is more of a religious studies lecture about the Christian community than a lecture coming out of the Christian community, but that does not mean it is not worth listening to. He will be addressing his latest book, America and the Challenges of Religious Diversity.

Globalization, defined as the flow of people, goods, information, and other resources across national boundaries, is not new, but has increased dramatically in volume and density in the past twenty years. The United States is one of the most powerfully and extensively involved countries in the global political economy. Are American churches part of the story? Is their influence in other countries spreading as a result of globalization? Are they shaping Americans’ attitudes toward hunger and poverty, foreign aid, and military involvement? Although the effects of globalization on the domestic configuration of American Christianity has been considered at great length, hardly any attention has been given to these questions about the wider role of American Christianity outside of the United States.

When I first began reading feminist theology, Schusseler-Fiorenza and Welch drew my attention to how language, particularly patriarchal language, shapes not only abstract theological concepts, but also the everyday, practical matters of the Christian life. Among other things, we assume male dominance in the masculine pronouns we use for God, even though we classically maintain God is neither He nor She, but Spirit.

Though I could continue to criticize the church’s use of vocabulary in the oppression of certain peoples, the ecclesiastical rhetoric I want to appraise presently is the church’s employment of the vocabulary of the Empire – particularly its economic verbage.

I often hear Christians refer to “investing” in either non-believers or people whom they are mentoring in the faith. The language of investment is procured, obviously, from the economic world referring to putting money to use in order to gain a potentially profitable return. That is, one invests in order to gain a return.

But is the return what Christian friendship is really about? It is supposed to be what I can gain from my time and effort spilled into another person? When we “invest” in a non-Christian, what we often mean is that we spend time with them in order to make them Christian! When we “invest” in a disciple, we mean we spend time with them in order to elicit the return of sanctification!

But is the return at the heart of Christianity? Is my primary agenda in befriending a non-Christian that they might buy into my product? Does this language not dehumanize and objectify our “investment”? Does this language not communicate that this whole Christianity thing is about what I can profit, or God can yield? Being friends with people outside the Christian faith is not about investment, it is about being genuine friends! Genuine friendship, for sure, involves demonstrating God’s love to the other. But this demonstration of love is not artificial and contrived; it is not about reciprocation or return. Consider my friendship with JR.

I would never say of JR that I am “investing” in him. That would entail certain things which are not inherent in sincere friendship. It would imply that I deem him spiritually below me or that he needs me in his life to be spiritually fruitful. It also implies that my agenda is to correct his spiritual imperfections, and because of my investment, I expect that he will provide a certain return. In the end, the language of investment doesn’t appear to be a natural part of genuine friendship.

But, in the end, this is not even the most dangerous aspect of investment rhetoric.

For me, the most dangerous part of the church’s employment of economic language is that we have taken the language of America’s dominant deity (economics, consumerism, materialism), and leaving it unchanged and unchallenged, we have taken it into our communities like a long lost brother. But as long as the economic rhetoric involved in America’s one true religion is warmly accepted by the church, we will never be able to counter the influence of capitalism, consumerism, materialism, or just plain-ole Mammon in our lives.

Now from where I sit, it appears we have two options. First, the church can completely rid itself of economic language. We can completely drop the language like a deflated stock. No more language of investment or any other kind of rhetoric that smacks of capitalism.

The second option, and one that requires a bit more creativity, is to continue to use economic language, but subvert it by investing it with distinctly Christian meaning. This option falls in line a bit more with what we see in the New Testament. The Gk. word we translate “fellowship” often referred to partnership in business agendas in the first century. Also, and more obvious, the word we translate “redeem” means to “buy back.” It too is an overtly economic word.

I like this second option the best, but there are two difficulties with it.

First, are we creative enough, or even powerful enough, to change the way Christian people generally employ economic rhetoric? Like Wal-Mart in a small town, economic language dominates our American landscape. Completely subverting it and changing it is a nearly impossible task. We may try, but in the end, our use of language is merely a text which is interpreted and misinterpreted by our hearers. Just because I invest economic rhetoric with new meaning doesn’t mean my hearers will observe that investment.

Second, when the New Testament writers reinvested economic language with Christian meaning, they were not using the language of the dominant deity of the Roman Empire. So, even assuming our hearers will understand our new meaning, might we be safer in simply abandoning the language altogether?

So, that’s as far as my thoughts have taken me on this topic thus far. I’m looking for some help getting past this roadblock. What do you think? The bottom line is that Jesus did not heal people for his own glory, and he even healed some who never even thanked him or his Father. It doesn’t seem like his investment in people was only about what he or his religion can get out of it. What about just showing people the love of God for its own sake?

If we accept, which I do, Tom’s rejection of the soteriology of the State, how should Christians interact with the government? I don’t see a scriptural imperative, as the situation of a participatory government as we Americans have currently did not exist during the writing of our set of sacred texts. Given that lack of an imperative, do Christians vote, run for office, try to legislate the tenants of our faith?

Do we wash our hands of participation in government and focus solely on the work of the Kingdom of God, the whole while reaping the benefits of this country’s contradicting history of domination and freedom? Do we actively engage it, using it as a tool to bring God’s distributive and or retributive justice to the people that we can bring it to?

I don’t know, but with the November of 2008 slowly approaching debate by debate, I am giving increasing thought. I’d like to hear yours.

Violence is the default reality of our society. We assume violence. We consume violence. We trust violence. It is our default reality because we can see no other alternative to defeating evil in many circumstances. We run to it before considering other possibilities. We flee to violence because it offers us protection and preservation. Indeed, violence offers the very same things the unseen God does.

For us violence often has a salvific quality to it. It is seen as that which can ultimately save us, preserve us, and justify us. We call upon it to protect our American way of life. We utilize it in the effort to preserve our lives, which Christ said we could not save anyway. We employ violence to justify things we already wanted to do.

Long before our willing submission to soteriology of violence, however, we have bought into what others have called the ‘Soteriology of the State.’ That is, what we once trusted the church for (salvation, preservation, justification) we have handed over to the state. The state preserves our way of life, it saves us from evil (terrorism), it justifies our desires and actions (consumerism and exploitation). In fact, it tells us what we should live and die for. We’ve fallen in a Soteriology of the State – Caesar has become our Lord. [1]

If you doubt this, just look at the war rhetoric of our nation – it is rhetoric taken from the church: The spreading of democracy coincides with the spreading of the gospel (GW – “Democracy is God’s gift to the world.”). The war was needed to ‘preserve the American way of life,’ just as Christians are supposed to preserve society by being ‘salt.’

In our co-opted Soteriology, we have blindly bought into the ideology and agenda of the state. The goals of the state have become our agenda and Jesus has become nothing more than a bumper sticker politician.

Because we have given Lordship to the state, we’ve also given away any possibility of seeing an alternative reality – especially an alternative reality where violence doesn’t win. If violence is used to stop evil – violence, not the cross, wins. This is, in effect, eliminating evil with evil – the very thing Paul commanded us not to do. Indeed, he tells us to over come evil with good. Then, in the very same context, tells us to submit to government. Government = evil, submission to government = overcoming evil with good. [2]

Is this impossibility of seeing an alternative reality to the Soteriology of the State, the Soteriology of Violence, the reason we so quickly jump to violence as justifiable? I think so. Even Just War Theory says violence is the last alternative after all others have been exhausted. But because we assume violence we cannot see any alternative to exhaust. Maybe this is part of our problem.

Christians as part of the kingdom of God cannot continue to conform their lives to the kingdoms of this world. In the kingdoms of this world violence wins – violence saves. In Christ’s kingdom the denial of self, the laying down of one’s life, and the taking up of one’s cross wins.

All I know is that I’ve seen us (as American Evangelicals) jump to violence without biblical support. [3] In the rules of logic the one who says something exists must offer evidence. Is there NT justification for violance? I’ve found nothing compelling.

I don’t like this non-violent streak in the NT. But I also know that we must be faithful to the witness of Scripture which says, ‘pray for your enemies, love those who hate you, bless those who curse you, go the extra mile, turn the other cheek.’ You will simply not find an example of Jesus or any other NT writer saying, ‘protect your way of life, spread democracy, or slug your enemy.’

Peace (no, really) in Christ.

1. This, I think, is why we are so adamant about getting a Republican in office. We think politics (the state) is the way to save America. Unfortunately, politics never saved anyone and Jesus wasn’t a Republican. [↩]
2. It’s not even funny to me how many times I’ve heard Christians justifying the war in Iraq by saying that we should submit to our government and its decisions. Yeah, apply that logic to abortion and see what you get. [↩]
3. And I understand why. I wish I could allow myself to do the same. I’d much rather someone prove to me that I’m wrong though – it would be a lot easier on my conscience. [↩]

During the conception years of Christianity religion and the state intertwined quite nicely. In fact, no sharp dichotomy necessarily existed, especially when one considers the influence of the Imperial Cults which demanded Roman citizens worship the Emperor. There was no ’secular’ vs. ’sacred.’

In the fullness of time Christianity grew up in this theo-political culture. And the message of Christianity was inherently political…though not as one might expect.

Rome employed terminology such as ‘salvation’ and ‘peace’ to point to the ideological and governmental sovereignty of their Empire. Only Rome, they espoused, could provide true salvation and peace. Furthermore, they backed up these claims with crucifying those who dared to question the sovereignty of the Empire. The cross was a Roman tool designed to humiliate a terrorist so that others would not wish to follow in his steps. In an honor and shame culture, this technique was quite effective.

When Christianity appears on the scene not only does it steal the Roman terms ‘salvation’ and ‘peace’ and invest them with new meaning, but it also takes Rome’s greatest threat, crucifixion, and infuses it with honor and glory, not shame and embarrassment.

Thus, Christianity, in subverting Rome’s political terminology, was political. Though it was not politically involved. Christians did not seek to change Roman culture through the political machine…indeed, they couldn’t. But they did believe their message was political and that it had larger cultural influence.

Since Constantine we live in a world where Christians have much more political sway. We’ve obtained ‘official’ religion status [1] , and gained the comfortable assumption that political involvement is the surest way to influence culture. This assumption has blinded us to other creative alternatives which do not seek the power of the state to prop up the gospel and influence culture. Again, preaching the gospel is political – as a prophetic voice to the political realm. But Christ himself shied from seeking state power.

Matthew’s gospel is especially clear about this: From the beginning it is the State (Herod) who tries to kill him. In the end the State (Pontius Pilate) does kill him. The State, in the Matthean narrative, is a false power. It claims sovereignty, but ultimately will crumble as any other human institution. Jesus spends almost the entire gospel outside of Jerusalem (the theo-political center of his world), probably in protest of the political power. In fact, it is not until he gets crucified that Jesus spends any time in Jerusalem.

Furthermore, in Matthew’s Sermon on the Mount, being ‘Salt’ is not about preserving the culture of the Empire or the Empire’s way of life. Christ never recommends cultural preservation – it’s not what Christianity is about. The context is about a radical community which, through the enactment of the beatitudes, lives a distinctive life which, like Salt, has certain qualities (meekness, peaceable, mourning). Without these qualities Salt is worthless – and so is Christianity. A community that does not live these qualities will be thrown out as useless

From the Matthean perspective Rome/politics cannot provide salvation for the world, for politics simply play into the hands of the powerful. For Matthew it is a distinctive Christian community that will have the most significant influence on Roman culture; a community associated with the poor and marginalized not the powerful of the State. The State cannot offer salvation and peace, these things belong to the church who exemplifies these quatlities as they seek to live out Christ’s example and God’s will.

The radical Christian community I speak of does not rely on the promises of the State to find empowerment. It relies on the crucified messiah who dared to stand against the values of the State and was killed for it. But without that death at the hands of the Empire, the temporal nature of the Empire’s salvation could not have been seen and the eternal nature of God’s salvation could not have been won. We’re not trying to create a Christian state; we’re not trying to preserve or win back a Christian state. We’re trying to demonstrate the ultimate falleness of all human attempts at salvation and peace outside of a crucified deity. No nation-state (Christian or otherwise) will ever be able to see this clearly.

1. Even in America where no ‘official’ religion is recognized, Christianity has been, and still is, the unofficial, official religion. [↩]

Colossians 2:15 “Jesus disarmed the rulers and authorities and made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them.”

In the ancient world, victorious armies made ‘public spectacles’ of their defeated opponents. These spectacles involved parading the defeated soldiers and generals through the main center of the town, naked and shackled, humiliated and utterly defeated, trailing behind the glorious, victorious, conquering army dressed all in white and reds, mounted or marching proudly. The cultural effects of this sort of parade cannot be missed: the victors are strong, unconquerable, glorious. The enemy is weak, defenseless and beaten. The Other is unable to stand before the We.

As I read Paul’s words in Colossians, I thought of Jesus’ parade through the streets of Jerusalem. I thought of how he was tried as a traitor to Rome and condemned as a rabble-rouser, an insurrectionist, for daring to claim kingship of a kingdom other than Rome. For this crime, Rome reserved its most heinous, brutal, and humiliating punishment: execution by crucifixion. Jesus was tortured, then stripped naked and strapped to a crossbeam. Led by brightly dressed, exquisitely disciplined Roman soldiers, he was paraded through the town and out of the city, then hung naked from a cross for all to see until he died. Rome’s message was clear: see, Judea, your king, your messiah. We have made a public spectacle of your savior, your christ. Such a pitiable thing cannot stand before the glory of Rome. Rome is mighty. Rome is powerful. And because of this, Rome is glorious. Rome is able and willing to strike down all who dare to dream of another kingdom, for Rome is eternal. See the consequences of your folly. See and worship Rome. This is Rome’s parade. This is Rome’s spectacle.

But Easter Sunday revealed Rome’s spectacle to be Jesus’ spectacle, God’s spectacle. Rome did not take Jesus; Jesus gave himself. Rome did not torture Jesus; Jesus submitted to Rome. Rome did not lead Jesus down the city streets to display his weakness; Jesus gave himself to the soldiers to expose the ultimate failings of Roman justice – the innocent are punished, the oppressed are destroyed, and evil assaults good. In Jesus’ parade, Rome is seen to be a sad caricature of God. Where Rome flaunts its power and might, God offers arms spread in love. Where Rome crushes those who are it enemies, God submits to them and dies for them so that God may redeem them. In submitting to the violence and death-consumed politics of the “rulers and authorities”, Jesus subverts them and turns their spectacle back upon themselves, revealing them for the ineffectual parodies they are.

And, of course, he ultimately triumphs over them. By inverting their spectacle, Jesus (re)creates a new possibility for humanity. No longer must we abide by the laws of “philosophies and empty deceits according to human tradition and the elemental spirits of the world” as Paul says earlier (2:8). Rather, we are free to live in a community conformed not to the world, but transformed into the image of Jesus himself. We call this community the Church, and as his body, Jesus has invited us into his Parade. As Rodney Clapp has elaborated, our communal worship is to be the time when we as the Body of Christ join together and participate in Jesus’ Parade of the Cross. We are to come together and affirm (through the songs we sing, through the sacraments we observe, through the teachings we hear and discuss, through the prayers we pray, etc.) the Way of Jesus rather than the way of the world. We are to remind ourselves (and the world in which we live) on at least a weekly basis of the radical way Jesus triumphed over the rulers and authorities of this world. We are to join with Jesus in becoming a public spectacle that will expose the violence and evil of the world for what it is.

How often do our worship services do this? That is, how often do we engage in Parades that challenge the ways of the world? And how often do we allow our Parades to become nothing more than reinforcements of the violence, opulence and oppression that so characterizes our “Christian Nation”? I think of our Independence Day services, of our Battle Hymns of the Republic and crying out, “Onward, Christian Solder, marching as to War, with the Cross of Jesus going on before”. I think of these and wonder what we plan to do with that cross that goes before us. Do we plan to die on it? Or are we, as Rome, going to crucify the Other so that We can feel strong?

May we remember that ultimate Other, who “emptied himself, taking the form of a slave… and became obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.” He “was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, by making peace through the blood of his cross.” This is what true Glory looks like. And that’s something Rome cannot understand.

What new mystery is this? What blessed backwardness? The Immeasurable One is held and does not resist. Struck by wicked words and foolish fits of senseless men, the Almighty One does not defend. — mewithoutYou