Finding God in Dark Alleys

SEPTEMBER'S READINGS ARE challenging and provocative. They call us out of our comfort zones, demanding that we examine our lives carefully in light of what it means to be a follower of Christ. In the story of the Syrophoenician woman, we glimpse Jesus speaking harshly to someone seeking his help. However, we also see what happens when that woman refuses to remain silent: Jesus answers her request. Her daughter is cured; life is restored. Who are the people who seek our help? As we read the news, whose lives and deaths reach out to us? And how do we answer them? If we dare to call ourselves Christians, then turning away from them is not an option.

The gospels show us that witnessing to God’s love in our world demands entering into the margins, the places where human tradition masking as religion tells us that God is not to be found. As feminist theologian Marcella Althaus-Reid notes, we must venture down the “dark alleys” to find God in lives and bodies too often deemed “indecent.” For those of us who like to patrol the boundaries of decency and indecency, we need to ask ourselves if such borders stem from God or from human traditions such as sexism, racism, classism, homophobia, and ableism. For those of us whose bodies and lives are called “indecent,” the challenge becomes to exorcise the demons of self-doubt and internalized oppression that we carry within ourselves. It is only then that we can answer Jesus’ question: “But who do you say I am?”

[ September 2 ]

Faith or Religiosity?

Song of Solomon 2:8-13; Psalm 45:1-2, 6-9; James 1:17-27; Mark 7:1-8, 14-15, 21-23

Our readings this week challenge us to discern what constitutes religion and what it means to be a person of faith. In Mark’s gospel, Jesus questions some of the religious rules of his time and accuses religious leaders of “[abandoning] the commandment of God and [holding] to human tradition” (Mark 7:8). In the letter from James we hear “religion that is pure and undefiled before God” is “to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world” (James 1:27). So how do we know what is God’s commandment and what is human tradition when religion always arises from a particular sociocultural context and therefore is mediated through human language and experience?

The hint these readings give us is that our love of God, expressed in our care and love of neighbor, is what leads us to true religion and makes us people of faith. Are there areas of our lives—individual and collective—where we hold to human tradition because we mistake it for God’s will? A way to discern the answer to this question is to ask another question: Who are the widows and orphans of our own time? Widows and orphans constituted some of the most vulnerable people of Jesus’ time. Who are the vulnerable in our world? To find them, we need only look to the margins of our society. To follow God’s will, we need only to love and care for them.

[ September 9 ]

She Persists

Isaiah 35:4-7a; Psalm 146; James 2:1-17; Mark 7:24-37

“The Lord lifts up all who are bowed down” the psalm tells us (146:8). Yet in the gospel story of the Syrophoenician woman, Jesus does not immediately lift her up. Instead, he seems to put her down by saying, “Let the children be fed first, for it is not fair to take the children’s food and throw it to the dogs” (Mark 7:27). Such harsh words are unexpected from this messiah who continuously surrounds himself with the outcasts of his time. He has essentially called her a dog. Nevertheless, she persists. She reminds him, “even the dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs” (verse 28). Fascinatingly, Jesus fulfills her request—casting out her daughter’s demon—precisely because this woman has dared to talk back to him.

Historically, women have been conditioned to remain silent, to be subservient to men. An expected response from this woman would have been for her to accept Jesus’ insult and turn away. But, she does not. She speaks up; she stands her ground. And Jesus takes notice. What a powerful lesson for women and all those who have suffered oppression because of their gender. God does not ask us to keep silent. Instead, God lifts up those who are bowed down when we have the courage to raise our voices in the struggle for justice. Psalm 146 reminds us: “Happy are those whose help is the God of Jacob [and Rachel],” the God “who executes justice for the oppressed,” the God who hears women who dare to speak.

[ September 16 ]

Giving Witness

Isaiah 50:4-9a; Psalm 116:1-9; James 3:1-12; Mark 8:27-38

“Who do you say that I am?” Jesus asks his disciples and us (Mark 8:29). To whom do our lives give witness? This spring, the world seemed captivated by the royal wedding of Meghan Markle and Prince Harry. News outlets kept revealing “must know” wedding secrets and details. Wedding coverage was intermixed with stories of pervasive sexual abuse of women and girls by privileged men, the rise of ozone-destroying emissions, and the Trump administration’s continued practice of separating children from their immigrant parents, some of whom were then deported. The haunting photo from Gaza of Layla Ghandour’s mother weeping over the body of her dead 8-month-old baby was on the front page of many newspapers. I remember Jesus’ words: “But who do you say that I am?”

In a world in which we are constantly bombarded with information—some of it beautiful and much of it terrifying—how do we witness to Christ? We can become numb to the horrors that tear apart our siblings and families around the world and in our own communities. It is tempting to focus on the shiny, pretty things (and sometimes that might be a temporary necessity for mental health). However, Jesus reminds us that we cannot remain with the shiny, pretty things. “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me” (Mark 8:34). In today’s world, part of our cross might be the constant cultivation of compassion.

[ September 23 ]

Examining Privilege

Jeremiah 11:18-20; Psalm 54; James 3:13 - 4:3, 7-8a; Mark 9:30-37

Although in Mark’s gospel Jesus is very clear with his disciples that he will die and rise again (this is the second time he has foretold his death), they “did not understand him” and “were afraid to ask him” for clarification (Mark 9:32). Can you blame them? The last time Peter made a comment, Jesus equated him with Satan and told him to get back (see 8:33)! Instead, they concern themselves with the all-too-human desire to be “the greatest.” Jesus quickly dashes their hopes for fame and power, saying, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all” (Mark 9:35). What a bummer!

On a serious note, the idea of servant leadership that stems from this passage must be unpacked. Jesus says this to a group of folks who are arguing over power and who already have a certain amount of power, given that they are his disciples. The call to be “last of all and servant of all” applies firstly to those aspects of our lives where we hold some type of privilege. For some of us, we have the racial privilege of being white in a world that privileges whiteness; for others, we have the gendered privilege of being male in a world that privileges maleness. Jesus invites us to ask: How will I use my privilege to serve those who do not share it? How will I become “last of all and servant of all” in those places where I hold privilege? Jesus is not calling us to be doormats. We are not called to keep silent in the face of oppression because we are “last of all and servant of all” due to our race, gender, ability, or sexuality. We are only last in those places where we are first.

[ September 30 ]

Cut It Off

Numbers 11:4-6, 10-16, 24-29; Psalm 19:7-14; James 5:13-20; Mark 9:38-50

Whatever “causes you to sin, cut it off” seems to be the main theme of this week’s gospel. We might read this call to “cut off” what leads us to sin as a call to examine the sources of our sinfulness and to eradicate them as best we can. Sometimes we tend to think of sin too narrowly—a list of dos and don’ts. I remember preparing third graders for the sacrament of reconciliation. When the day arrived for them to make their first confessions, they were nervously wiggling in their seats. One boy called me over and proudly declared, “Teacher, I hit my sister in the car so I could have a sin to confess.” Yikes! Yet isn’t this how some of us interpret sin? Namely, as these glaring actions that are totally disconnected from our everyday lives.

Sin, however, is typically much more insidious. Sin tears at our relationship with God and others; it is a way of being in the world. Sin lies to us, telling us to believe that we are justified in our narrow-mindedness, in our inability to welcome the stranger, to ponder their story. The good news is that grace is also a way of being in the world. Grace comes to us every time we “cut off” our problematic behaviors by acknowledging them and then replace them with those that lead us closer to God and to each other.

“Living the Word” reflections for October can be found here. “Preaching the Word,” Sojourners’ online resource for sermon preparation and Bible study, is available at sojo.net/ptw.