Generous Orthodoxy  

Thursday, July 14, 2016

Words to the church in our present national crisis

This morning's New York Times front page drives me to my laptop to write what I intend to be the most important blog post I have ever written (I have posted 355 messages on my Ruminations in the past 5 years, and 420 in Tips for the Times). This new post follows along with my immediately preceding one in Ruminations, called "We don't deserve the black church").

If I, at the age of almost 79, am ever going to put my reputation (such as it is) for preaching and teaching on the line, it's now. If I have ever written or spoken about anything whatsoever, I venture to put this post at the top of the table of contents. If I have ever been helpful to anyone seeking my guidance in the church at any time for any reason, now is the moment for me to throw all the small weight I have, God being my helper, behind what I have to say today.

My beloved professor and mentor Paul L. Lehmann used to throw around the phrase status confessionis a good deal--too often, I sometimes thought. From time to time I have wondered if the status confessionis weren't upon us, for example during the buildup to the invasion of Iraq. I am quite sure that it is upon us now. Here is a definition:
status confessionis: "a state of confessing," is a dire situation in which the church must stand up for the integrity of the gospel and the authority of the Word of God it confesses, or else lose its soul. The Latin term arose during Lutheran doctrinal debates in the 16th century, but it has grown out of its original context. Today it is particularly associated with Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a Lutheran, who used it in the context of the church's response to the rise of the Third Reich.
 I believe that the soul of the American church is at stake as it has not been since the Civil Rights movement fifty years ago, when the white churches presented a very mixed and sometimes shameful face to the nation. Today I believe that all the congregations of this country--Roman Catholic, Protestant mainline, the various mainline breakaways, Pentecostal, nondenominational, Anabaptist, Seventh Day Adventist, black, Hispanic, Korean, Chinese, liberal, conservative, orthodox, revisionist, you name it--are called to the same vocation in these deeply threatening times when the American experiment is at stake. I believe that any preacher in the American church today who fails to speak out in no uncertain terms, not just on one Sunday but on many Sundays, about the climate we suddenly find ourselves in, has forfeited his or her claim to preach the Word of the living God.

In the African-American church, it is customary to invite political figures to speak and even to endorse some of them. It would probably be a mistake for white churches to take up this custom. However, it is quite possible to preach many biblical sermons on the themes of mutual love and forbearance across racial, religious, ethnic and other lines without ever mentioning the name of a political candidate or a political party. The message of the old Adam and the new Adam in Romans 5:12-21 (for example) is universal and can be made unmistakably relevant to our current plight. Most of us know that Jesus taught that we should love our enemies and bless those who curse us, but we Christians are not setting a good example. I do not hear prayers for our enemies in our churches, only prayers for "our troops." This is meant to be a correction of our failure to support our troops in Vietnam, but we are in a new situation now. Never were prayers for our enemies more important to our identity as disciples of Christ. The prayer "for our enemies" in the Book of Common Prayer, p. 816, no. 6, is superb, but I have never heard it actually used in worship.

There are countless biblical texts that can be expounded from the pulpit in the current situation, and not all of them are from the teachings of Jesus in the Gospels. To give just one obvious example: Deut. 24:11-22, with its repeated reminder that "you shall remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt."  (In fact, I'll venture to say that almost any passage from Scripture will lead to the same conclusions when read from the perspective of our crucified Lord.) The conservative churches have shied away from this sort of preaching because of antipathy toward what's seen as the substitution of social justice messages for the biblical gospel, but now, if ever, is the time to shuck off that false dichotomy. President Obama gave us some good texts in his address at the memorial service for the five police officers: "I will give you a new heart, and put a new spirit in you," says the prophet Ezekiel...and Obama pleaded, "That's what we must pray for, each of us: a new heart." He also quoted I John 3:18, "Let us love, not with words or speech, but with actions and in truth."

If the preaching and teaching of the church, week in and week out, is grounded in the gospel of a Lord who was crucified for all sinners (Romans 8:3-4), it would not be so easy for us to fall back into tribal patterns, fear of people not like us, guilt by association, the demonizing of perceived enemies, and other non-Christian habits of mind. If we were so grounded, it would be easier for the average Christian in the workplace or club or family gathering to speak up against these pernicious divisions that we now see coming out from under the rocks. When a sincere, albeit naive, Christian like Tim Tebow is led astray by false teaching, we see that anything can happen.

A dear friend in South Africa called yesterday and asked me what was going on in the United States, how this sudden unleashing of xenophobia and nativism could have happened. I groped for an answer. My best thinking is that the often-invoked factor of "anger" is not a sufficient explanation. I believe the Bible and all great literature teaches us that there is a fault line in all of human nature, not just in certain subgroups.  In those fortunate enough to have grown up in a strong culture of respect and forbearance, this fault line is more deeply suppressed, not so likely to break through the restraints of civilized behavior. In those who are estranged from such familial and group cultures, the ugly instincts that lie within us all are just waiting for permission to appear in public. Thus, many people who have not been brought up in a Christian community like "Mother Emanuel" in Charleston, where the black members of a Bible study refrained from grabbing guns when nine of their number were murdered by a white man, will react in a fashion not consonant with the evangelical message, no matter how they may identify as evangelical. Similarly, there are a great many Jews who are so strongly grounded in their own story ("you were slaves in the land of Egypt") that they are disproportionately represented in philanthropic groups supporting the oppressed and needy; whereas other Jews not so deeply grounded (e.g., Bernie Madoff, the "Den of Thieves") will drift away from their own roots and commit crimes against their own tradition.

The Body of Christ, when it is working the way God means it to, is a living illustration of what God intends for humankind. It is a "culture," if you will, that is stronger than the flawed individuals who are its members. Great heroes like Bonhoeffer have emerged from the church, but every day there are ordinary, nonheroic people who rise up and resist injustice in the name of Christ, in small ways perhaps, but "God gets in the midst" as the black Christians say, and he magnifies it. This is the Christian community acting as the branches of the Vine which is Christ.

A few months ago, when the primaries were just beginning, I heard a commentator say that he hoped Donald Trump would soon have to step out of the running, because the longer he stayed in, the more Americans would feel that they had permission publicly to express hostile and violent thoughts about blacks, Jews, immigrants, Muslims, Hispanics, and other perceived enemies. Now it has come true; the genie is out of the bottle. Christians in America are on the verge of committing crimes against the gospel.  Let us who are preachers and teachers and church leaders rise up and meet this challenge, not counting the cost but being faithful to the Lord who promises that he will be with us to the end of the world. He has guaranteed that his Word will not return to him empty.

Tuesday, July 12, 2016

We don't deserve the forbearance of the black church

Look, I may be wrong. My perceptions may be overly reactive or overly romantic or overly something else. However, I must speak out or burst. I have studied and thought about the black community all my life, and I don't know what has kept them from rising up and murdering us all. We white people--including of course not only my slave-owning ancestors, upstanding Christians all, but also my beloved immediate forebears--first enslaved, then deliberately oppressed an entire race of millions who still live among us, suffer from us, bear with us, even sometimes appear to love us. I don't know how they can keep on smiling at us on the street (it happens to me every day), wishing us well, interacting with us, forgiving us, and still containing their righteous anger against us. We don't deserve it. We don't even try to understand, as Michael Eric Tyson writes in an impassioned, gut-wrenched op-ed piece: In this piece, we see what most black people conceal from us.

How do they keep on containing their rage toward us for what we have done to them? We know, a year after the shooting at Emanuel AME Church in Charleston, that not every member of that congregation was full of forgiveness for the killer. There has been much pain and unhappiness and some parishioners have left the church. It is not all roses and honey. But I continue to believe that the Christian faith is so deeply rooted in the black community in America that it has given that a community an almost unique role to play in the world. We saw it in the Civil Rights Movement, and the profound Christian identity of that movement must never be forgotten--as unfortunately it often is, in a similar way that Jewishness is often downplayed in order to create a supposedly more universal message (e.g. Anne Frank). The Civil Rights Movement was not a generalized liberation movement. It was powered by Christian faith, Christian Scripture, Christian preaching, Christian leadership, Christian commitment--and Martin Luther King and his closest associates had to fight hard to keep it that way.

Unless I heard wrongly, the young woman, Diamond Reynolds, who made such an extraordinary impression on the video when her boyfriend was shot dead by the police in Minnesota in front of her 4-year-old daughter, called repeatedly upon Jesus. How is it that the black community continues to have a deep love for Jesus in spite of all that keeps happening to them? Why haven't they formed an armed force of snipers like the one in Dallas yesterday? How is it that they have not all turned Muslim? The white church does not deserve their continuing patience. What have we done for them? What have I done for them? Practically nothing. Handouts, tokens, platitudes, and an almost complete lack of understanding.

I am ashamed of myself and my tribe. We should all be on our knees in our churches begging God for insight and understanding.

Here is a case that illustrates exactly what I'm trying to say. A few days after I first posted this, the front page of The New York Times featured an article about the beleaguered Chief of Police in Dallas, David O. Brown. His calm demeanor since the assassination of five of his officers has impressed the nation. When asked how he kept going, he said, "God's grace and his sweet, tender mercies, just to be quite honest with you." This is almost unimaginable, in view of the personal, private suffering of Chief Brown. In 2010, only seven weeks into his new position as chief, his [mentally troubled] son who bore his name killed a police officer and another man before being fatally shot himself--on Father's Day. And this is the father who can still speak of "the sweet, tender mercies of God."

This was in the first paragraph of the first-page article. I've been reading the Times for almost 50 years and I have often noticed how, whenever a white Christian is quoted about something--let's say there's been a funeral and the Times reports what the minister or priest said--references to God or Jesus are always omitted. Pretty much the only time that sincere Christian faith is allowed to appear in a news story in the Times is when a black person testifies. It seems that the faith of the African-American church, unlike that of the white churches, is not to be dismissed or scorned. Well, thank God for the black church.

Sunday, July 10, 2016

The Four Seasons bows out

This post is pure trivia and escapism. I hope you'll read my previous post on the racial crisis first.

In 1984, when my husband had been in management at IBM for 25 years, according to the IBM custom of those bygone days, he was awarded a posh luncheon for guests of his choice at any restaurant of his choice. He chose the Four Seasons in New York. About thirty guests and spouses ate together in a private dining room. The service, not to mention the food, was of such staggering quality that we were truly awe-struck, and our guests left talking about it.

That was the only time I have ever eaten at the Four Seasons. I never took a seat in the uniquely elegant Pool Room, nor the fabled Grill Room where the most important "power lunch" in the city took place 4-5 days a week for about thirty years, from about 1973 to about 2003, more or less. For me, it was way too expensive, too intimidating, too rarefied. But I had entered the restaurant that one time. I had gasped as I passed into the bronze-and-glass entrance, with the celebrated Picasso theatre curtain, and glimpsed the Pool Room. I experienced the glorious architectural spaces of the Seagram Building's first floor, and I knew that the modernist period (in architecture, not in theology!) was for me.

I have had two major guilty pleasures in my life on which I have wasted a lot of time and about which I am somewhat embarrassed. I won't write about one of them at the moment (I'm afraid it has to do with British royalty). Right now I'm thinking about the other one, which does not occupy me very much today, but was an absorbing hobby until about 2005 when I was no longer spending gobs of my time in New York City.  I used to love reading all about the haute restaurants of New York. I could rattle off the names of "Les Six" (Lutèce, La Grenouille, La Caravelle, La Côte Basque, Lafayette, Quo Vadis) like my French ABCs (which is pretty much all the French I have). I never set foot in a single one of them, with one exception: I was invited to lunch once, in a sort of fluke, at Lutèce, where fabled chef-owner André Soltner came out, in true French style, wearing his sky-high white toque, and greeted us...for once in my life I was tongue-tied.  Except for that one occasion, I never set foot in a single one of the gastronomic palaces. I was just happy to know that they existed. (All but one of them are gone now.)

Michael Korda, the publisher, was one of the so-called boldface names who had his own table in the Four Seasons Grill Room for the Power Lunch. I knew him slightly. He was an astute observer. He explained that the food was not really the attraction: "Powerful people eat in order to be seen with other powerful people." The Four Seasons was founded in 1959, the year I was married, and until it was sold in 2000, it held its place at the top of the pecking order. For about twenty of those years--the 70s and 80s--most of the power players were in publishing and related pursuits. (After that, they were more corporate.)

Do I think that worldly power is a fit subject for preoccupation? Do I think it's important to "see-and-be-seen"?  Do I really care about who is on "the A-list"? As a disciple of Jesus, certainly not. As an admirer of communities like the Bruderhof, definitely not. As a student of human society and its preoccupations, well, maybe. But in any case, I ask myself, why am I sad that a restaurant whose public rooms I never ate in is closing forever? (They are supposedly reopening a few blocks away. Good luck with that.)

I think it has a lot to do with the purity and elegance of the Seagram Building and of the restaurant spaces in particular. I'll never forget my astonishment when I walked in. Just knowing that those stunning proportions existed made me feel uplifted. Knowing that they were appreciated during those years was comforting. The new owners don't care. Sic transit gloria mundi.

And by the way: was Donald Trump a regular at the Power Lunch? Not on your life. He wasn't interesting enough, or accomplished enough, or informed enough. He was Dullsville personified. He had nothing to talk about but himself and his deals.