In the Midst of the City, the Gospel and God's Politics

In the Midst of the City, the Gospel and God’s Politics

By Barkley Thompson

“As Christians, we must not begin with our secular political beliefs and then use the Gospel to prop them up. Rather, we must begin with the Gospel and let it shape our politics.”—Barkley Thompson, In the Midst of the City, the Gospel and God’s Politics.

I was once in three book groups, all reading Barkley Thompson’s second book, In the Midst of the City.

The book’s first section is a collection of sermons he wrote while serving as dean of Christ Church Episcopal Cathedral in Houston.

Barkley reminds us of Marcus Borg’s story about the two processions in Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, entering from opposite gates. Pilate enters as the representative of the Roman power of war, while Jesus enters, symbolizing God’s politics, the power of peace. “For Christians, leaving God’s politics out of the church is not an option. The Gospel, however, is not partisan, and God is neither conservative nor progressive.”

Barkley constantly reminds us of Karl Barth’s mandate to read both the Bible and the newspaper. Interpret the newspaper by the Bible, never the other way around. For example, in the wake of the great tragedy of the killings and wounding at the Boston Marathon, the Gospel leads Barkley to remind us to look for the helpers, those who reach out to the harmed. 

The second section addresses what it means to be a Christian and an American in light of the Gospel. Patriotism differs from nationalism. The patriot gives his heart to the best that patriotism represents, even in the face of fear and assault by those who have lost an understanding of liberty.

The third section comprises essays published on his blog in the Houston Chronicle. They reflect his personal discernment process as he seeks to see God’s vision for the world. The chapter titles speak for themselves: “I Own Guns, and I Believe in Gun Control,” “Of Orlando and the Virtue of Embrace,” and “On Civil War Monuments.”

Joanna. https://www.joannaseibert.com/

Joseph of Arimathea and the Election

Joseph of Arimathea and the Election

Chapel of Joseph of Arimathea, National Cathedral Washington DC

“He was a good and righteous man… and had not agreed to their plan and action. He came from the Jewish town of Arimathea and was waiting expectantly for the kingdom of God.”—Luke 23:50-51. 

As we read this, we may not yet know many of the results of this election. Our prayers should be with those who win the election and for those who lose.

For some reason, I hope to remember Joseph of Arimathea after this election. “He was a good and righteous man… and had not agreed to their plan and action. He came from the Jewish town of Arimathea, and he was waiting expectantly for the kingdom of God.” That’s us!! I think we’re all waiting expectantly for God’s kingdom and hoping to find some part of it in the people we voted for. So we have much in common with Joseph of Arimathea.

“He did not agree to their plan and action.” But what DID he do about it? Did he speak up for Jesus? There is no record of anyone testifying on Jesus’ behalf at his mock trial. We have sometimes been like Joseph of Arimathea—seeing injustice and wrongdoing in the lives of others and ourselves, yet not speaking up against them. We fear what might happen to us. We dread the consequences of speaking out. We fear that what we do or say might be offensive and hurt someone, or—Heaven forbid—we might become unpopular. We are afraid that our voice will not make a difference.

But then a transformation occurs in Joseph, what we might call a moment of clarity. Joseph goes to Pilate. What bravery. He asks for Jesus’ body, then personally and compassionately removes the nails from Jesus’ hands and feet, washes the blood from his head, hands, feet, side, and back, wraps the body in a linen cloth, and lays Jesus in what presumably was his own tomb. 

Are we Joseph of Arimathea? Is there a point at which we can no longer live only for our own well-being, focused on issues that affect only us? We no longer pretend to go along with the old crowd, inside and outside ourselves. Instead, we look to our core values, speak our truth, and act on it. This happens to people in recovery from addiction and to spiritual friends who seek a deeper connection to God. 

This may also be how we experienced voting recently or today. No matter the election’s results, we voted and let our voices be heard. We took a stand. As with Joseph, it was only the beginning for many of us.

Think about it. We gather today through the internet and may know what it is like to be Joseph of Arimathea. I believe there is a Joseph of Arimathea within each of us, finally making a stand and changing how we relate to ourselves, God, and the world—speaking out with love and compassion and becoming concerned for the plight of others. 

Remember the quiet, compassionate, loving courage of Joseph of Arimathea, who is in each of us, the courage to change and the determination to foster love and understanding between ourselves and others. We need that courage to bring compassionate healing to our country, especially in the days ahead.  

Joseph provided the tomb for the resurrection to take place. That is now our job. We have learned about resurrection and compassion from spiritual friends and in the thin places where we worship. We are now called to be that same vessel for compassion and resurrection in today’s world, where reconciliation is desperately needed—perhaps even more now than before the election. 

Let us be that place for healing and resurrection.

Joanna.   https://www.joannaseibert.com/

All Saints and All Souls: Generous Heart, Columbus

All Saints and All Souls: Generous Heart, Columbus

“In his holy flirtation with the world, God occasionally drops a pocket handkerchief. These handkerchiefs are called saints.

Many people think of saints as plaster saints —men and women of such paralyzing virtue that they never thought a nasty thought or committed an evil deed their whole lives long. As far as I know, real saints never even come close to characterizing themselves that way.”–Frederick Buechner initially published in Wishful Thinking and later in Beyond Words. 

Buechner reminds us that being a saint is less about being ourselves and more about the way God, for some reason, works through and redeems the mess of our lives. November 1 is All Saints Day, when we remember the saints of the church who have died. November 2 is All Souls Day, when we remember all the faithful departed.

 I cannot help but remember Columbus, well known in the recovery community in Little Rock, Arkansas, only by his first name. Every year, usually early in the morning on the anniversary of your sobriety, you receive a phone call from Columbus. You wait in anticipation for that call, celebrating one more year of an alternative life with someone you knew only over the phone.

Columbus’s wife of forty-six years would leave him three times before he entered his final rehabilitation, after many DWIs, missed work, and days when she admitted she did not know where he was. Columbus died in the thirty-eighth year of his sobriety and was credited with leading thousands of men and women worldwide to sobriety.

Columbus made 15,000 calls a year and almost half a million calls before his death. He also called people he knew were no longer in recovery, telling them he cared about them. As a result, many people say they returned to recovery because of Columbus.

Columbus’ wife described his change during his recovery as “truly unbelievable. He became a dedicated and involved father and grandfather after he came so close to losing his family.”

When I hear people ask what they could do to make a difference in the world, I tell them Columbus’s story: one man with a generous heart, picking up the phone every day to change lives with a simple call. One day at a time. 

This may be how saints live. They are resurrection people. They know all too well what Good Friday is like. Yet God continues to change them and the world, one day, one phone call at a time.  

Joanna. Joannaseibert.com