What we mean when we talk about “tolerance.”

Here’s something that has happened regularly every so often since I was a kid: A bigot who happens to be a conservative says something bigoted, and liberals object to it.  The bigot then points to this as an example of liberal hypocrisy, because liberals claim they want tolerance but they’re not being tolerant to him!  (You can find bigots in any political group, but liberal bigots have different defense mechanisms when called on their bigotry.)  (Also, it is AMAZING to me how hypocritical bigots themselves are.  They believe they have a right to spew any kind of nasty things they want about people they don’t like, but if you point out their own flaws and how nasty they are being, why, you are a horrible person for being so mean to them.)

No, tolerance is not hypocrisy.  But the fact that this is a regular argument is proof that a lot of people (mostly, but not all of them, conservatives) really do not understand what tolerance means when used by liberals.  (Either that or they do understand, and they are purposefully trying to mislead people about it.)  The situation is not helped by the fact that many liberals may have an emotional or gut-level understanding of tolerance, but often have trouble explaining the concept in a clear and concise way.

Tolerance does not mean “anything goes.”  It never has, and it probably never will.  Let me repeat that: Tolerance does not mean “anything goes.”  I know a lot of the more polemical conservatives like to claim it does, so they can whip up emotional reactions to “those immoral liberals who are ruining our nation and who are also hypocrites” but this is not true.

Since it has come around again in current political discussions, I thought I would explain the concept with the two main models liberals are generally working from: tolerance as morality, and tolerance as a peace treaty.

Model One: Tolerance as a Moral Principle

Believe it or not, this does not mean that tolerance is the moral principle itself; rather, tolerance is how the principle is expressed in practiceThe moral principle involved is that all human beings are people with human rights.  All human beings, no exceptions.  (As a Christian, I believe this because all people are created in the image of God, but you don’t have to be a Christian to believe in this particular moral principle.)  Race, class, gender, sexuality, ethnicity, religion, age, physical ability, neurotype (i.e. whether their brain works “normally” or not), and any other category you can think of are irrelevant.  All human beings are people, in the most fundamental sense possible.  Now, you may find this obvious to state, but the thing is, when you get right down to it most people don’t think all human beings are people.  In their gut, there are “people (those who are like me and my family and friends)” and there are “others” who aren’t really people, but rather stereotypes and cardboard cutouts and possibly objects to possess.  If you’ve ever wondered how people can do terrible things to other human beings–bullying, torture, rape, viciousness, all the horrors one human being can do to another–the answer is that they don’t really see their victims as people.  This is also where the bigot’s hypocrisy over not being able to handle other people calling them out on their bigotry comes from.  They believe they themselves are people, so anything that hurts them is bad.  But the people they hate are not real people, so hurting them is just fine.

If you see all human beings as “people” no matter how different from you they are, then it is a LOT harder to treat them badly.  They have human rights, dignity, worth.  They matter, and not just as faceless masses, but as individuals and communities.  Once you have taken this step, the question becomes, “how do we treat people in a way that reflects their inherent humanity?” The answer is “Tolerance.”  Yes, people may be very different.  They are still people!  People may live in ways that I would not want to, do and think things that are foreign to me, and guess what?  They are still people, with a right to live the way they choose.  Even if I would never, ever, EVER choose to live that way?  They are human beings, who have the fundamental human right of choosing how they want to live.  Think of it this way: would you want people from another culture who didn’t understand you to come in and judge you or attack you for not being more like them?  No?  Then don’t do it to other people!

Tolerance is not a moral principle.  Tolerance is a guideline for living out the moral principle that all human beings are people with human rights.

But it still doesn’t mean that anything goes and you make no moral judgments.  Because one of those fundamental human rights that all human beings possess is the right to live in safety.  The right to not be oppressed or abused.  So therefore, oppressive and abusive forces are bad.  Violence and things that hurt people are bad.  They should be stopped.

But Anna, you say, what about times when the violent abusive thing is part of another culture?  How does tolerance work then?  Well, first off, remember that the inherent moral principle at work is that “all human beings are people.”  They’re not savages to be uplifted and civilized, nor children to be disciplined and patronized.  And we all have biases and blind spots, and a tendency to assume that different=bad.  So the first step is to make sure that the thing you don’t like is actually hurting people (and not just making you uncomfortable because it’s different), and the second step is to support those people within that culture who are already working against it, instead of taking point yourself.  For example, are there misogynistic aspects to some Muslim teachings?  Sure!  There are also misogynistic aspects to some Christian teachings.  And a lot of Muslim feminists (and yes, they exist!) argue very persuasively that women covering their hair is no more inherently oppressive than the Western beauty ideals that require huge amounts of time and money for makeup, hairstyling, clothing, and other things in order not to be judged as a “slob.”  The point is, if there is something genuinely harmful and oppressive in a different culture, the best way to help is to find the members of that culture who are already working on the issue, and then listen to their perspective instead of assuming that you know more about things than they do.  Everyone has a right and a duty to work against the negative parts of their own culture.  We don’t have a right to assume that our culture is automatically better than everyone else’s and our way is best for everyone and we can solve all their problems by making them just like us.  This doesn’t mean we can’t make moral judgments about those who are different from us, but it does mean that we should be careful and humble about doing so.

But back to the bigots claiming “liberal hypocrisy” when liberals call them on their bigotry.  “They claim to be soooo tolerant, but then they get in my face when I say what I want to!”  Remember, tolerance is not the moral principle.  Tolerance is a way to live according to the moral principle that all human beings are people with human rights.  And if you are spewing racism, misogyny, classism, ableism, homophobia, etc., etc., you are directly attacking the humanity of the people you are bigoted about.  You are creating the conditions that lead to all sorts of horrors.  Systematic oppression–everything from Jim Crow to slavery to concentration camps–requires first that you convince everyone that some human beings are not people.  Words matter.  And if you are doing things that directly hurt people, especially if you’re doing it just because they are different from you?  That is, again, a DIRECT ATTACK on the fundamental moral principle that all human beings are people with inherent dignity and human rights that should be respected.  And if you are a “normal” American, then what I said earlier about respecting different culture doesn’t apply, because you are a part of our common American culture and you are actively making that culture worse.

It is not hypocritical to temporarily set aside a guideline (such as tolerance) to deal with a threat to the deeper moral principle (that all human beings are people with inherent dignity and human rights).  In fact, you know what would be hypocritical?  Setting aside the moral principle to cling to the guideline.  Saying “We know this member of our culture is saying and doing things that hurt people, but we have to tolerate everything, no matter what, so I guess they can go around hurting anyone they like.”  (And, believe you me, there are plenty of liberals who are steeped in this hypocrisy.  But, since it is convenient to bigots, it’s not one the bigots ever notice.)

That’s one model of tolerance as used by liberals in America.  But there is another.

Model Two: Tolerance as a peace treaty

The other model of tolerance is not a moral principle at all.  This is tolerance as a peace treaty.  Basically, it works like this.  Most people can agree that living in peace is better than being at war with one another, yes?  Whether that is literal (two countries fighting) or figurative (two groups within the same society fighting).  To prevent wars, we have these things called peace treaties.  Which, when you boil them down to their most basic level, say “you don’t attack us and we won’t attack you.”  We don’t have to like each other, we don’t have to approve of each other, we just have to say “you do you, I’m going to do me, we’re not going to fight about it.”  When we’re talking about different groups and people within the same society, that peace treaty is called tolerance.  It is designed to keep people from being at each others’ throats so we can all live in peace.  ‘Tolerance as a peace treaty’ is not a moral principle; it is a practical guide for lowering conflict in society.

But the thing about peace treaties is, they aren’t shackles to prevent self-defense.  If countries X and Y have a peace treaty, and Country Y starts talking about how horrible those people over in Country X are, Country X has a right to object.  If Country Y starts massing troops on the border, Country X has a right to go on a heightened state of alert and get pretty loud about objecting.  If Country Y sends in the troops, Country X has a right to defend itself.  In this scenario, Country X and Country Y are fighting, but only one of them (Country Y) has broken the peace treaty.  It would be completely nonsensical to look at Country X and accuse them of hypocrisy and breaking the peace treaty.  They did not.  Country Y did.  Country X is defending itself.  And if both Country X and Country Y have peace treaties with other nations, and some of those other nations decide that Country Y has broken those treaties and so they decide to help Country X?  Those countries are not hypocrites, nor are they breaking any treaties, because the attacking country already broke the treaties.  Self-defense is not hypocrisy.  Nor is defense of your friends and allies.

On a social level, bigots spouting off verbally against the groups they hate can be the equivalent of anything from saber-rattling to massing troops on the border, depending on the circumstances.  Enacting laws and policies that hurt the group they hate is the equivalent of invading.  So is physical attack or police brutality or anything like that.  And people have a right to defend themselves and their communities.  And this is not hypocrisy.  The bigots, by their words and actions, have already broken the peace treaty of tolerance.  They don’t get to claim that they can attack anyone they with immunity, but anyone who defends themselves or others is a hypocrite.

These two models are the basis for how liberals think about tolerance.  I hope this helps you understand the underlying issues.  It would be wonderful if everybody could figure this out and so we wouldn’t keep going around and around with the same argument we’ve been having since I was a kid, but I hold out no hope that it will go away any time soon.

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On the Resurrection of the Dead

Ask most people what happens after you die, and they say “you go to Heaven (or Hell).”  As in, your soul goes to either Heaven or Hell, and leaves your body behind.  Ask them about the Resurrection, and they talk about Jesus.  Christians, according to popular Christian understanding, don’t get bodily raised from the dead like Jesus did; their souls (and not their bodies) go to Heaven.

The problem is, that’s not what the Bible says.  Now, granted, the Bible never lays out a clear timeline for the end times; most of what it says about the and of the world is told through parables, metaphors, dreams, and visions instead of laying out plain and simple what’s going to happen.  But some things are pretty clear and universal throughout Biblical passages on death and what comes next and the end of the world:

1) There is no hard-and-fast separation between body and soul.  That was a pagan philosophy that got grafted in later from the Greeks in the early church.  In the Old Testament, whenever you see the word “soul,” it’s a mistranslation, because there isn’t a word for what we think of as the “soul” in Hebrew.  The Hebrew word nefesh means something closer along the lines of everything that makes you you–personality, spirit, and body, all rolled into one.  It’s your essence, your core, your being, and your physicality is included in it.  In the New Testament, well, pagan Greek philosophy separated out the physical and the spiritual, so Greek does have a word (psyche) for soul-separate-from-body.  But Jesus was a Jewish man talking (mostly) with other Jewish people, so on the rare occasions he uses that word he’s probably meaning the Hebrew concept of nefesh instead.

The word that gets translated as “Spirit” is ruach in Hebrew, or pneuma in Greek, both of which literally means breath.  (In English, it comes from the same root word as “respiration” and “inspiration.”  Spirit is life force, but it’s inherently physical.  Only living bodies breathe.

In the Biblical worldview, we are not, never have been, and never will be free-floating souls who happen to have a physical body to wear around temporarily.  We are whole, body, mind, heart, and spirit together as one.  (I will note that the more scientists learn about the body and mind, the more obvious it is that the two are connected and intertwined in all sorts of ways we hadn’t understood until now: those ancient Jewish people in the desert understood more about the human condition than Greek philosophers did.)

2) Jesus is not the only one who will be resurrected.  The sequence of events is not “Jesus died to save us from our sins, so when we die our souls will go to heaven.”  The sequence is “Jesus died to save us from our sins, and because we are tied to his death and resurrection, we, too, will one day be raised from the dead.  When Christ comes again, the graves will open, and all those who have died will rise again, and all the living and the dead shall be judged, and there will be a new heaven and a new earth and God’s kingdom will be here on earth.”  What exactly that looks like, what the exact timeline will be when Christ comes again, all the other stuff (trials and tribulations, etc., etc.,) that’s pretty hazy and contradictory.  What is perfectly clear every time the subject is discussed is the fact that the dead will be raised–not just spiritually, but physically–and then all people will be judged.

What happens to us in the between-time–the time between when we die and the general resurrection of the dead–is not so clear.  The Bible simply isn’t very concerned with it.  There are hints here and there, and mostly they seem to imply that we are asleep or unconscious in some way, waiting for the day of resurrection.  Sometimes (as in the parable of Lazarus and the rich man) they do imply that our souls are either in Heaven or Hell while we wait.  But mostly the answer is “we die and are dead until Christ comes again and raises all the dead.”

Why, then, do modern Christians focus so heavily on “soul going to Heaven/Hell” that we forget about the Resurrection of the body?  Well, first, lots of people today (even practicing Christians) haven’t spent much time studying the Bible, and so most of what they believe on the subject they get from pop culture, just assuming that movies/television/comedians/authors in the general culture know what they’re talking about and that they are accurately portraying something Biblically-based.  Second, the early church (the first few centuries after Jesus’ original followers died out) was dominated by Greeks, and they had all been raised with pagan Greek philosophy, and so they interpreted a lot of the Bible through that lens.  So, among other things, a split between body and soul was injected into Christian beliefs, even though the Bible doesn’t have such a split.  Third, during the American Civil War, there was a spiritual crisis.  It was the first time that such a high percentage of the population died so far from home, with no bodies to bury that the family could ever see.  This really changed the way Americans talked about and thought about death, and there is a really good book-turned-documentary, Death and the Civil War, that explores this.

So now that I’ve written almost 800 words explaining all of this, I can get to what I really wanted to talk about.  I was reading Richard Hays’ commentary on First Corinthians in the Interpretations Bible Commentary series, specifically the section about 1 Corinthians 15.  In that passage, Paul confronts people (Greek former-pagans, who believed in an immortal soul that was completely separate from the physical body it was housed in) who didn’t believe in the resurrection.  Well, they believed that Jesus had been raised, but didn’t believe in the general resurrection to come, i.e. that when Christ comes again he will raise all those who have died.  And Paul is vehement that this is a problem: you cannot separate out Jesus’ resurrection and our resurrection.  If resurrection is not possible for us, then Jesus could not have been raised either.  If God can raise Jesus bodily from the dead, God can raise us bodily from the dead, as well; and because God has raised Jesus from the dead, God will raise us also.  If you don’t believe God will raise us bodily from the dead, according to Paul, you are calling Jesus and all the disciples liars.

Hays brings up how the earliest Christians interpreted this passage (page 259).  In particular, he quotes the words of St. Justin Martyr, a second-century Christian and church leader who was one of the first great Christian writers after the New Testament was finished.  In one of his debates, Justin talks about “godless, impious heretics” who “are called Christians … and say that there is no resurrection of the dead, and that their souls, when they die, are taken to heaven.”  St. Justin Martyr considered this absolute heresy, and said of such people: “Do not imagine that they are Christians.”

Um.

Wow.

That’s, uh, that’s pretty direct and straightforward, with not much wiggle room.  And when you read Paul in 1 Corinthians 15, he, too, has no wiggle room.  According to both Paul and Justin Martyr, you cannot be a Christian if you think your soul goes to heaven without your body.  You can only be a Christian if you believe in a bodily/fleshly resurrection.

Most American Christians today do not believe in a bodily/fleshly resurrection for anyone except Jesus.  They believe that your soul goes to heaven (or hell) without your body.

I am not sure what to say, except that we obviously need more Christian education and Bible study about this.

I’d like to share some words of Hays’ own (page 277), on why this is such an important point:

Paul saw that underneath all the dismaying problems of the Corinthians lay one massive theological fallacy: they denied the resurrection of the dead.  And by doing that, they denied the importance of the world that God created.  They denied–whether they meant to or not–that these flawed bodies of ours are loved by God and will be redeemed.  And therefore–whether they meant to or not–they denied that what we do with these bodies is of ultimate significance in God’s eyes.  So they lapsed into confusion, both moral and theological.

Modern American Christians tend to focus on the “spiritual” aspects of faith and ignore much of the practical aspects, reducing discipleship to merely agreeing with certain beliefs.  And when we do talk about physical bodies and morality, we tend to focus on sex.  Which is important, but still only a small part of what we do with our bodies.

What would a Christian ethic look like if it were based on the idea that the physical–bodies, creation, all if it–matters?  If we really took seriously the idea that God’s saving work isn’t about destroying this fallen world and rescuing the souls of believers from it, but rather focused on the Biblical idea that God in Christ is reconciling the world to himself?  That the coming kingdom is based not on the destruction of the old world and the old bodies, but rather on their recreation and resurrection?  There are lots of Christian theologians and writers who have talked about these subjects over the last century or so, I’m not saying anything new … but unfortunately, none of those people have moved the needle very far on what the average Christian-in-the-pew thinks.

Much food for thought.

Going to the Other Side

Lectionary 12B, June 24, 2018

Job 38:1-11, Psalm 107:1-3, 23-32, 2 Corinthians 6:1-13, Mark 4:35-41

Preached by Pastor Anna C. Haugen, Augustana and Birka Lutheran Churches, Underwood, ND

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord.

Grace and peace to you from God our Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ.  Amen.

“When evening had come, Jesus said to the other disciples, ‘Let us go across to the other side.’  And leaving the crowd behind, they took him with them in the boat, just as he was.”  Now, let’s remember what’s just happened.  Jesus has only been ministering for a short while.  He called the apostles and began teaching, healing, and casting out demons.  He’s had a rather nasty confrontation with the religious leaders who called him a demon because they didn’t like him.  But, on the bright side, lots of people love him.  The crowds are following him, and he’s really popular!  That is, he’s popular in Galilee, where he’s from, and where all his disciples are from.  Jesus is popular among Galileans, who are Jewish like him and his followers, who worship the same God who is Jesus’ Father, the God that Jesus is one part of.  The Galileans don’t just worship the same God, they share the same culture.  They speak the same language, eat the same food, share the same ethnic background, dress the same, etc., etc.

The people on the other side of the lake are not Galileans.  They’re not even Jewish.  They are pagans who worship many gods, none of which are the one true God.  They are a different ethnic group, eat different foods, speak a different language, wear different clothing.  And I wonder what the disciples thought about that.  This is the first time Jesus has led them out of familiar surroundings.  At home, they are close followers of a local celebrity.  They have influence, and respect.  Across the lake, no one has a clue who they are or who Jesus is.  And even without the celebrity, they’re comfortable at home in Galilee.  They know what to expect, and they know there will be food they like and things that they know how to deal with.  They may only be going to the other side of the lake, but it’s a different country and one they may never have stepped foot on.  They’re going from comfort and celebrity status to being strangers in a strange land, random foreigners.  This is not like the sort of church mission trips people go on today, where there are already Christian groups there to join up with.  They were completely, totally, and utterly on their own.  I wonder how the disciples felt about it?  The Bible doesn’t say, but I can’t imagine they were too happy about the idea.  I bet they wished they could stay home where it was comfortable and safe and build on the successes they’d already had, rather than going someplace weird where they would be starting from scratch.  At the very least, I bet they were nervous and apprehensive.

Then the storm started.  Now, the Sea of Galilee is a lake surrounded by really tall mountains.  It’s not like lakes we have here, where you can see things coming.  Things can go from sunny clear skies to major storms in a very short period of time.  And the fishing boats used in Galilee in those days were really small and flat-bottomed.  Great for fishing on a calm day, or when you’re close enough to shore you can row to safety in time.  Not so great when you’re in the middle of the lake, and it’s too choppy to row, and the wind is so strong that it can literally blow the boat over unless you take down the sail.  In those small boats, you are at the mercy of wind and wave if you get caught out in the middle of the lake during a great storm.  And this is a great storm.  It is huge.  The disciples probably weren’t all that happy to be sailing across the lake anyway, but Jesus told them to, and so they did.  And then they get caught in this huge storm that could kill them, and they wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for Jesus, and what is he doing?  He’s SLEEPING!  It’s his fault they’re in danger, and he’s not even paying ATTENTION to them!

So they wake him up.  “Teacher, don’t you CARE that we’re DROWNING?”  Jesus wakes up, orders the storm to stop, and turns to them, and asks them why they’re scared.  It’s still early in their relationship with Jesus, but they’ve seen him do some pretty incredible stuff.  Why don’t they trust that he will protect them from the storm, too?  Why is their first reaction to be afraid and blame people, instead of trusting that Jesus will be with them?

Did you know that one of the earliest metaphors for the Christian community is a boat?  If you go to some of the earliest Christian churches and catacombs, you will find pictures of boats all over the place.  You see, a boat does two things: it protects you from the water and wind and storm … and it takes you places.  That’s the thing about the Christian community.  We’re not called by God to sit still where we are.   We’re not called by God to be safe and comfortable. We’re called by God to grow in faith and then go out into the world and spread the healing love of God through word and deed.  We’re called to go out, tell the story of Jesus, heal the sick, free the oppressed and the prisoner, forgive the sinner, and bring reconciliation to all in the name of Jesus Christ.  Like a boat leaves the harbor to sail across the sea, we are called to leave our comfort zone to go minister to and with people who are different from us.

And those people who are different from us may be across the country or across the world, but they may also be the people across the street.  The people who don’t come to church, who are struggling and isolated and alone.  The people who think differently than we do, and live differently than we do.  The people who desperately need good news, because precious little ever seems to go right.

And you know what?  That’s dangerous.  It’s dangerous to try to build relationships with people who are different.  It’s weird, and in order to do it you have to be willing to set aside your own assumptions, even just for a little bit.  You have to be willing to change, to ask the hard questions.  You have to be willing to look at your own traditions and ask yourself if they serve the Gospel or only your own comfort.  You have to be willing to see the world through your neighbor’s eyes, to see what healing and reconciliation and good news they need.  And sometimes, you get rejected.  Sometimes, it doesn’t work out.  Sometimes you fail, and sometimes you get hurt in the process.  But Jesus still comes to us and says, “Get in the boat.  Let’s go across to the other side.”

The sea is a dangerous place, full of storms and uncertainty.  Lots of ships are lost.  Even with the best modern technology and safety equipment, sometimes things happen.  But still ships go out.  A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are for.  Ships are for taking people places, and protecting them on the way.  Lots of people these days seem to think that being a Christian means your life will be perfect and happy and easy and good.  But that’s not what Jesus calls us to.  Jesus calls us to get into the boat, and go, knowing that there will be storms, and there will be problems, and there will be things we don’t know how to handle, but that Jesus will be there with us in the midst of those troubles.  If, as a Christian, your life never has storms, if you never take risks or allow yourself to be uncomfortable or do things that might change you, you’re like a ship that never leaves the harbor.  And when those storms come, the Christian answer is not to panic and look for someone to blame, as the disciples did.  The Christian answer is to trust that no matter what—whether the storm gets better or worse, whether the ship is saved or not, whether you succeed or fail—Jesus is with you through it all, working to keep you safe.

And you and I might not always see what’s so great about going to the other side.  I’m sure the disciples didn’t—going to those weird foreign people and trying to do ministry with them was hard and not very rewarding.  But if Jesus’ followers had only stayed ministering to and with their own people, you and I would not be Christian today.  If they hadn’t gone out into the world, following Jesus when he called them, Christianity would have stayed nothing more than a small sect of Judaism, if it had survived at all.  The sea of life may not be safe, but it also comes with great rewards.

Just like the disciples weren’t really sure what was waiting for them on the other side of the lake, I don’t know what’s in store for Augustana and Birka as you head into this time of transition.  I don’t know what sort of pastor you will get, and I don’t know what exactly God is calling you to do as you move forward.  But this I do know: God is calling you forward, and there will probably be storms along the way, and God will be with you no matter what.  I hope and pray that you will follow God and trust in him on your way.

Amen.

The Kingdom of God is like mustard

Lectionary 11B, June 17, 2018

Ezekiel 17:22-24, Psalm 92:1-4, 12-15, 2 Corinthians 5:6-17, Mark 4:26-34

Preached by Pastor Anna C. Haugen, Augustana and Birka Lutheran Churches, Underwood, ND

 

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord.

Grace and peace to you from God our Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ.  Amen.

When Jesus told the crowds the parable of the mustard seed, they would have started laughing at the second sentence.  Guaranteed.  “It is like a mustard seed, which, when sown upon the ground—“ pause for incredulous laughter as the thought of someone being so deliberately idiotic as to plant mustard.  See, mustard wasn’t really a crop in the middle east in Jesus’ day.  It was—and still is—a weed.  And the variety native to the area is not the crop that we grow today to make the condiment out of.  Like all weeds, mustard is hardy, grows quickly, gets everywhere, and is really hard to get rid of once it’s established.  It is edible, both the greens and the seeds (the seeds are what the condiment is made of), but you don’t go around PLANTING it.  Because you can gather what you need from the wild plants on the hillside, and it will seed itself in your fields without any help from you at all.  The problem is keeping it out of your fields.  So, yes.  Jesus starts talking about someone deliberately planting mustard, and people are going to start laughing.

Which then begs the question.  Why would Jesus compare the kingdom of God to a weed?  A big, mighty weed, sure, but still.  A weed.  That doesn’t fit our normal picture of God and God’s kingdom.  We tend to think of power and might and majesty and awesomeness and inspiration when we think of God.  Weeds are the opposite of that.  Weeds are the things that you groan when you see them.  Why not something like cedar, the tree of kings?  Cedars grow tall and majestic, the tallest trees in the holy land, and they were used to build palaces and temples and the wood is gorgeous and it smells beautiful and everyone looks up to cedar trees.  Or, if not a cedar tree, then a mountain, or something else grand and awe-inspiring.  Or maybe something useful, or profitable.  Something humans at least want.

Why a weed?  Well, maybe we shouldn’t assume that the kingdom of God will always be something we welcome.  I mean, let’s take Jesus’ first sermon in the gospel of Luke, where he says he has been anointed to bring good news to the poor, proclaim release to the captives, and let the oppressed go free.  That’s good news for the poor, the captives, and the oppressed.  If, however, we or people we like are profiting from the fact that others are poor, or benefiting that some people are oppressed, or if we and people we love are the ones holding people captive, then that message is not something we want to hear.  It’s not good news to us.  And there has never been a society in the history of the world—including modern America—in which everyone is free from oppression.  There have always been people taking advantage of one another, and creating systems of laws and culture which benefit some people at the expense of others.  And that’s simply not compatible with God’s kingdom.  Some aspects of our culture will work with the Kingdom, but some simply will not.  And people generally don’t welcome things that tell us we have to change, or tell us we need to give up power and influence and wealth.  So we might be tempted to ignore the growth of God’s kingdom, or even tempted to treat God’s kingdom as if it were a weed.  We might try to kill it, to preserve the garden of our community in the old, comfortable, sinful, oppressive patterns we’re used to.

The thing about mustard is that it’s one of those super-weeds that’s almost impossible to kill.  Like kudzu, or the Himalayan Blackberries we have in the Pacific Northwest.  I have spent many a long hour doing battle with Himalayan Blackberry vines.  No matter how vicious you are with them—no matter whether you chop them off, bulldoze them to the ground, poison them with the most deadly herbicides on the market—they ALWAYS come back.  Just like the Kingdom of God.  Humans can try to subvert it, prevent it, root it out, but it will come despite our best efforts.

The coming of the kingdom does not depend on human efforts.  We can work for the kingdom, yes, but each one of us is only one small part of that work.  Consider the first parable from our reading.  The farmer in that parable plants the seed … and then he waits.  He waits for the earth and sun and rain to do their work.  Eventually he harvests.  For all the things the farmer can do to ensure a good crop, some of the most important things are simply out of his control, as all farmers know.  When we treat the kingdom of God like good seed, we can till the soil and sow the seed and harvest it, but God is the one who gives us the seed and causes it to grow.  And when we treat the Kingdom of God like a weed and try to kill it, well, the Kingdom of God is stronger and more powerful than we are.  It always comes back, whether we like it or not, because God’s kingdom cannot be killed or prevented by any human power.  And although we should work for the Kingdom of God, it will come whether we do or not.

The Kingdom of God is like the mustard bush.  It grows like the dickens.  It’s not an awesome mountain or a graceful, majestic cedar, but it is large and full of life.  It’s a bush that grows much, much taller than humans.  It creates a lot of life, and it shares that life with others.  There aren’t that many big bushes or trees in the Holy Land; not many things that give shade or shelter from the harsh desert sun.  But the mustard bush does.  And so does the kingdom of God.  No matter what storms or burning sun or anything else comes into our life, the Kingdom of God provides shelter.  And that shelter isn’t just for the high and mighty—it’s for everything and everyone, even the ones we don’t necessarily think about, the ones most likely to get pushed out of the rest of the world.  Just like the mustard bush provides shelter for birds’ nests, the Kingdom of God provides shelter and a home for those who have no other home or shelter.

The Kingdom of God is like the mustard bush.  It provides food four our bodies and souls.  Mustard plants are edible, both the leaves and the seeds.  They’re one of those plants where, if you’re walking by the side of the road and you are poor and you have nothing else, you can harvest from the bush.  Just like God’s Kingdom provides for those who are poor and have nothing.  The kingdom of God provides food for our bodies through the work of God’s followers who feed people and make sure that all people have the resources they need to thrive.  The kingdom of God provides food for our soul through the Word of God, Jesus Christ, which nourishes us and helps us grow in faith and love.

The kingdom of God is like the mustard bush.  It provides healing.  Pastes made out of mustard are one of the oldest healing salves there is, and mustard is especially effective for burns.  Even today, if you have a burn that’s not serious enough to go to the doctor with, you can use mustard—the regular condiment you find in your kitchen—and put some on the burn, and it will help it heal faster.  Just like the Kingdom of God provides healing for our bodies through the work of God’s followers who work to prevent harm to people and heal them.  Just like the Kingdom of God provides healing for our souls through God’s work of forgiveness and reconciliation and love.

The kingdom of God is like a weed that will plant itself and grow anywhere, even when we try to root it out.  It grows from the smallest things into something huge that gives life and healing and shelter and freedom to those in need.  May we learn to recognize it when we see it, and value it as we should, and help plant and tend it.  And may the day come quickly when all people receive shelter and healing and nourishment from it.

Amen.

Lectionary 10B, June 10, 2018

Genesis 3:8-15, Psalm 130, 2 Corinthians 4:13—5:1, Mark 3:20-35

Preached by Pastor Anna C. Haugen, Augustana and Birka Lutheran Churches, Underwood, ND

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord.

Grace and peace to you from God our Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ.  Amen.

This week’s Gospel reading has Jesus tangling with the scribes from the Jerusalem temple.  In the chapter prior to this, Jesus had healed people who were sick and cast out demons, causing quite a stir.  He’d also preached and taught and called the twelve disciples, so there was a great crowd everywhere he went.  And there was a ton of controversy about him, because he forgave sinners and was openly friendly with social outcasts, the tax collectors and the sinners.  He ate meals with the people that nice religious people were supposed to despise.  And he’d tangled with the Pharisees because he used a messianic title to refer to himself and they didn’t believe he was the Messiah.  So now here he is.  It’s still the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, but he has already created quite a stir.  And people are flocking to him because they know something good is happening, even if they’re not quite sure what.  They see people being healed, they see demons cast out, they see good news being preached, and they are excited.  They don’t know exactly what’s going on—some people think this Jesus fellow is simply nuts—but they know something big is happening.  Something worth keeping an eye on as they figure things out.

And this is when the scribes from Jerusalem show up.  Now, we don’t have a position exactly like the scribes today.  The word “scribe” means “someone who writes for a living,” which in the days before people had typewriters and computers and printing presses meant that they were the people who kept the records.  But don’t think of them as if they were mere functionaries or secretaries.  They were the ones who kept the records … which meant, effectively, that the records meant what they said they did.  They were the ones who recorded everything from history to poetry to business deals, and they were the ones who interpreted it.  In a lot of ways, they were like today’s lawyers and judges.  This was a very important and prestigious position.  No scribe was independently important, but as a class they were a force to be reckoned with.

The other thing about them is that their position and class depended on the patronage of the chief priests and the secular hierarchy.  Poor people can’t afford to pay a scribe to take notes for them, or to interpret the law for them.  Even middle class people only used a scribe’s services rarely.  The Temple and the chief priests were their primary employers, and the rich and powerful were their main other source of income.  And let’s review who the rich and powerful were, at this point in time.  The Romans ruled, either directly or through puppets like Herod.  Israel was a conquered territory ruled by foreign invaders who responded to any hint of rabble-rousing with immediate cruelty to the whole population.  The rich and powerful were either Romans or people who sucked up to them.  And the Romans did not like anything stirring up the ordinary person on the street.

As for the Temple, well, the chief priests were intimately aware that their existence depended on Rome’s good will.  Rome allowed the Temple to exist in the hopes that it would placate the Jewish people.  If the chief priests and temple authorities allowed the beginnings of an uprising, their heads would be first on the chopping block.  Or rather, first on the cross, because that was how the Romans executed conquered people.  Not to mention, the chief priests were supposed to be the ones with the monopoly on God’s power and wisdom, not untutored yokels from the sticks.  So, basically, when these scribes show up to see Jesus, they have a ton of reasons not to like him.  He’s a threat to their power and authority, and they are afraid at what might happen if he incites the crowds around him to violence and the Romans respond.

So when those scribes arrive, they don’t even bother to see what he’s doing or hear his message.  They have already decided he is a threat, and therefore he cannot be from God.  God’s Spirit cannot be present in someone they do not approve of, someone who threatens to upset their applecart.  Therefore, all of his supernatural powers—healing, casting out demons—must come from a demonic source.  It doesn’t make any sense AT ALL, because why would a demon want to cast out demons?  Why would a demon heal people?  Those are the LAST two things a demon would want.  Demons do evil, not good.  That’s their very nature.  But the scribes don’t care.  Jesus is a threat, so he must be discredited at all costs.

Think about that, for a second.  Think about the arrogance and hard-heartedness it would take, to see someone healing the sick and casting out demons, saving people from the very real evils in their lives in the most concrete way imaginable, and declaring that the healing force is demonic and evil.  They are literally seeing God’s power at work in front of their very eyes, and it’s not just that they don’t believe it.  No, it’s worse than that.  They see God’s power, and it’s doing something they don’t approve, so they believe it’s the devil.

And Jesus tells them that they have committed blasphemy against the Holy Spirit, the one unforgivable sin.  Now, Christians in various times and places have sometimes interpreted it in various ways, mostly by taking whatever sin they find most immoral and calling it a blasphemy against the Holy Spirit.  But this passage is actually fairly specific about what blasphemy against the Holy Spirit.  It’s when you see the Holy Spirit at work and call it evil.  Everything else can be forgiven.  Unbelief, spreading lies about God, killing people, stealing, lying, cheating, and any other sin you care to name, it can all be forgiven.  But not looking at the power of God bringing healing to the world and calling it evil.

Unfortunately, the scribes of old are not the only ones to feel this temptation.  You see, the Holy Spirit is disruptive.  The Holy Spirit is a troublemaker, it is disorderly, upsetting, disruptive.   The Holy Spirit is wind, ruffling our feathers and blowing the dust off us and inspiring us to move out of old, comfortable, worn-out tracks.  The Holy Spirit is flame, setting us on fire and purifying us.  The Holy Spirit is water, washing us clean and drowning our old sinful self and making us re-born children of God.  The Holy Spirit sets prisoners free and makes people see things they have been blind to.  The Holy Spirit forgives sins and crosses boundaries.  The Holy Spirit brings good news to people who are poor and oppressed, and healing to a world broken by sin and death.

None of that is comfortable.  In fact, most of it is really uncomfortable.  Given a chance, most human beings do not like change.  We prefer things we understand, even if they’re not all that great, to things we don’t understand, even when it is so much better than anything we could have imagined.  We are prone to nostalgia, viewing the past through rose-tinted glasses and forgetting all the bad parts of it, as an excuse to keep things the same.  We don’t want to be set on fire, and we don’t want to be reborn, and while we like being forgiven we don’t like others to be forgiven, and by and large we don’t want to see things that might make us think new thoughts, either.  And the more wealth and power and status and influence we have, the less change we want, because after all, we don’t want to risk losing things.  And the more likely we are to count the Spirit’s disruptive action as a threat.

The Holy Spirit is at work in the world, and though it is not always comfortable, it is always good: healing people and communities, inspiring, and working to make the world more like God’s kingdom.  It isn’t always easy to understand, but it is always present.  Whether we understand it or not, whether we want to be disrupted or not, may we always see it for what it is.

Amen.

Keeping the Sabbath

Lectionary 9B, June 3, 2018

Deuteronomy 5:12-15, Psalm 81:1-10, 2 Corinthians 4:5-12, Mark 2:23—3:6

Preached by Pastor Anna C. Haugen, Augustana and Birka Lutheran Churches, Underwood, ND

 

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord.

Grace and peace to you from God our Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ.  Amen.

The conflicts between Jesus and the Pharisees are often categorized as conflicts between the Pharisees’ hidebound blind obedience to the law, and Jesus’ setting the law aside or abolishing it.  That’s not actually the case.  In the first place, there is nothing the Pharisees enjoyed more than debating the meaning of the teachings of the Bible.  Like Jewish people today, their faith is formed by debating about what the Bible says and how best to apply it to daily life. Second, Jesus himself said he had come not to abolish the law but to fulfill it.  It’s not that the ancient teachings of God contained in the Old Testament were to be cast aside as no longer relevant; rather, that we see new meaning in them because of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection.  In the third place, have you ever noticed how much time Jesus spent with Pharisees?  Walking with them in our Gospel lesson today, talking with them, eating dinner with them—they spent a lot of time together.  See, Jesus’ interpretations and the Pharisees’ interpretations were actually very similar in a lot of respects.  They were part of the same conversation.  Although they ultimately diverged, it wasn’t because of Jesus’ interpretation of the law; it was because Jesus insisted that he was the Son of Man, the Messiah, which they did not accept.  That’s what they got mad at, in our Gospel lesson today.  Not that Jesus disagreed with them on exactly what was permissible to do on the Sabbath, but that he called himself the Son of Man and lord of the sabbath, a title reserved for God.

I truly hope that everyone here believes that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of Man, the Lord of the Sabbath.  So we don’t need to explore that any further.  But I think we do need to talk about the sabbath, what it is, why God gave it to us, and why it matters in our modern world today.

In the Ten Commandments, God ordered us to remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy.  Now, a lot of the time, we tend to think about “keeping the sabbath” as meaning “going to church.”  And, sure, I hope you always go to worship once a week or on a regular basis.  Regularly worshipping with other people helps deepen one’s faith and carries us through spiritual dry spells.  It is very good for us.  But that is actually not what keeping the sabbath holy means.  You see, the sabbath is not primarily a day of worship.  It is a day of rest.  What was the first sabbath?  The seventh day of creation.  God created the universe in six days, and on the seventh God rested.  This is the model that God intends for humans, too.

In Deuteronomy, God commands God’s people: “Observe the sabbath day and keep it holy, as the Lord your God commanded you. Six days you shall labor and do all your work. But the seventh day is a sabbath to the Lord your God; you shall not do any work—you, or your son or your daughter, or your male or female slave, or your ox or your donkey, or any of your livestock, or the resident alien in your towns, so that your male and female slave may rest as well as you. Remember that you were a slave in the land of Egypt, and the Lord your God brought you out from there with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm; therefore the Lord your God commanded you to keep the sabbath day.”

The Israelites had been slaves in Egypt.  As such, they had worked from sunup to sundown, each and every day, and sometimes longer.  There was no rest, no weekend, no vacation.  You worked every waking moment until the day you dropped down dead.  And that was what was expected of poor Egyptians, too.  Rich people, meanwhile, spent almost no time working.  They lounged around enjoying the fruits of the labor of their servants and slaves.  That was what the Israelites were used to.

That is not the way God wanted them to set up their society, and it’s not the way God wants us to set up our society.  Observe the sabbath day and keep it holy.  In other words, everyone gets at least one day a week that is free from labor, free from worry, free from work.  One day where you don’t have to do anything except rest and relax.  To people who had been slaves, this was an incredible gift.  A whole day to yourself!  A day to recover from all the cares of the workday!  What a blessing.

Did you know that modern science backs up how important rest is?  When people spend too much time working, their body begins to break down.  They are more likely to get sick.  They are more likely to have mental health problems.  They are more likely to have heart attacks.  They are more likely to make bad decisions.  Their relationships with family and friends crumble.  People who don’t have time to physically and mentally rest are more anxious, more depressed, more accident-prone, more sick, and more likely to use drugs and alcohol as a crutch to get through the day.  There are huge, long-lasting negative consequences for people who don’t have enough time to rest and recover, even if they enjoy the work they’re doing.  I have a friend who absolutely loves her job, and so threw herself into it and taking on more and more responsibilities until she was always working.  But she loved it and found it rewarding!  Then she started breaking out in nasty rashes.  Turns out, those rashes were caused by stress.  No matter how much she loved that job, she could not live and breathe it every waking hour.  She had to stop, learn to take time off.  She had to learn how to take sabbath.  We were not created to do nothing but work.  God designed us and created us so that we would have a good balance between work and rest.  And it shows.

In Deuteronomy, however, God isn’t content to say “yeah, you need to take breaks” as a rule for individuals to follow on their own when it was convenient to them.  God goes on, commanding them what they are supposed to do as part of the new society they will be creating in the Promised Land.  Keeping the Sabbath is not just about individual choices; it is also about designing the way society is going to work.  Sabbath is for everyone.  Everyone in society, from the highest to the lowest, needs time to rest, and so God commands his people to see to it.  Everyone, male and female, old and young, rich person and slave, stranger and community member, everyone gets at least one full day of rest each week.  No exceptions.  That is what it means to keep the Sabbath.  It is actually the world’s earliest labor law.  If everyone gets a day of rest, that means that no employer or owner can demand more than a certain amount of work.  Keeping the Sabbath requires that everyone guard their neighbors’ sabbath.  It’s not just about an individual resting; it’s about creating the necessary conditions so that EVERYONE gets to rest.

This is a great gift, but especially it is a gift to the poor, the outcast, the ones society would rather work to death.  Rich people don’t need it, since they could choose to rest as much as they wanted.  This is a gift for the ordinary guy on the street and the poorest worker in town.  And that’s why the Pharisees guarded it so closely.  Because it’s easy to find reasons to fudge it.  For example: hungry people should get food, right?  In those days, to keep the Sabbath, you would cook food the day before and eat leftovers on the sabbath so that even the cook got a day off.  But what if you didn’t quite get the stuff done ahead of time?  Then you have to work on the Sabbath so that people can have food, right?  But if that happens often enough, guess what.  Whoever’s doing the cooking doesn’t get a sabbath.  If it’s just once in a while, that’s not a problem.  But if it becomes a regular thing, if it becomes normal, well, then, guess what.  You’re not keeping the Sabbath holy any longer.  It’s real easy for that to turn into a slippery slope.  Once in a while becomes often becomes always.  And before you know it, the sabbath is meaningless.

We Americans are absolutely TERRIBLE at keeping the Sabbath.  We used to be good at it; the old blue laws that required businesses to be closed on Sundays meant that few people worked then.  But even when you factor that into the equation, Americans are working more than we used to.  The average American worker works 47 hours a week—seven more than full time.  Some of that is white-collar workers who are working longer hours; 60% of people working a full-time job work more than 40 hours per week on average.  And a lot of people are expected to be on call and reachable 24/7.  Not just in case of emergency, but for every little thing.  Then you have poor people working part time jobs.  They can’t get a full-time job, since so many employers these days only hire part-time workers, so they have to get two (or maybe even three) part time jobs, and when you add it all up, they work every day and it adds up to well more than 40 hours a week.  They have no time to rest.  They have no sabbath.

Then there’s how we raise our kids.  We have filled their lives with so many sports and extracurricular activities and homework that they don’t have time to be kids.  They don’t have time to rest and relax and just be.  We have filled their lives with so many things that are good for them that one more will kill them.  One of my friends works with youth, and one day she had a conversation with one of the middle-schoolers in the program.  He asked what she did on Saturday.  Nothing, she said.  She’d lazed around in her jammies all day listening to music and resting after a week that had been particularly stressful.  The kid was shocked and horrified.  A whole day where you did nothing?  Where you rested?  He’d never heard of such a thing.  He wasn’t aware that resting was something a person could do.  He kept trying to suggest things that she could have done, ways of being productive or active.  He had no idea how to rest, or that it might be good for you.

We expect people to work constantly, even kids, and call them lazy when they object.  And then we wonder why people get sick all the time, why loneliness and depression and anxiety and addiction are all skyrocketing.  Now, obviously, the blue laws are a thing of the past and aren’t coming back.  But keeping the sabbath is important, and not just for Christians.  So I wonder: what should sabbath-keeping look like in the 20th Century?  What are ways we could shape our economy and our labor laws and our expectations that would give all people, rich and poor alike, the time to rest that God created us to need?  I don’t have the answers, but it’s a question worth pondering.  May God guide our hearts and minds.

Amen.

Memorial Day, 2018

Memorial Day, May 27, 2018

Jonah 3:10—4:4, 11, Psalm 140, 1 Corinthians 5:20-26, John 11:17-27

Preached by Pastor Anna C. Haugen, Augustana and Birka Lutheran Churches, Underwood, ND

 

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord.

Grace and peace to you from God our Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ.  Amen.

We are here today, brothers and sisters to give thanks to God for those who give their lives in service to their country.  Unlike Veteran’s Day, today is a day to give thanks specifically for those who have died.  Their bodies lie in the ground here, across this nation, and across the world, in Europe and in Asia, in all the places where they went to serve, to fight, and to die.  Some of the men and women we remember here today were known to us; others are strangers.  But all of them gave much for the service of their country, and it is right and proper to remember that.

Some of them joined the Armed Forces to do just that.  They felt called to serve and risk their lives for the greater good.  Others were drafted, and went because our country said they had to.  Still others joined because it was good pay, or to see the world, or because it was that or jail.  Some of them served in just and righteous wars which had to be fought to defend the world from evil.  Some of them served in conflicts which were neither noble nor necessary.  But whatever caused them to join up, and whether the war they served in was good or bad, they served on our behalf.  They served in defense of our nation, and to accomplish the political and military goals we as a people set for them.  AS we remember their service, and their sacrifices, we remember this: we, here, today, you and I, we are the ones who elected the leaders and voted for the policies which required the sacrifice of their lives.  They did not go to war because it was inevitable; they went because we sent them.  We made the decisions that led to their service and death.  That is a heavy responsibility borne by every member of a free nation.

Whether they were good people or bad, whether they served in a necessary war or a pointless one, whether they died on the battlefield or came home and died of old age, there’s one other thing we need to remember: they are in God’s hands, now, and our God is a God of resurrection.  Being a Christian means that death is not the end of the story, because Christ Jesus has destroyed the power of death.  The God who created this world, who created each one of us, who knew all those who have served and died from their mothers’ wombs to their graves, is at work still.  Their bodies lie in the ground, but when Christ comes again all the graves will open and they and all the dead will come forth from their tombs as Jesus did on Easter.  ON that day, all the living and the dead will be judged.  ON that day, death will be no more.  On that day, all that is war and violence and evil will cease.  On that day, swords will be beaten into plowshares and pruning hooks, and military service will no longer be necessary.  On that day, there will be a new heaven and a new earth, and everything will be transformed and made new, clean and whole and according to God’s will.

We don’t live yet in that good and gracious world to come, but we yearn for it.  We yearn for it because we miss our loved ones who have gone before us, and because we see the pain and misery in this life.  We see the times when it is necessary that some fight and die so that others may live in peace.  We see the times when we and others make stupid choices and send people out to fight and die senselessly.  WE see all the places where this world is not as it ought to be, all the places where hate and fear and violence and sin and death rule.  And we long for the day when the dead shall arise, and death itself will be defeated, and no one shall suffer and die.

On that day, that great day when God’s will is truly done on this earth, we may be surprised by who all we see there.  The book of Jonah reminds us that our enemies are not God’s enemies.  Nineveh was a great enemy of Israel; they had done many terrible things to Israel.  That was why Jonah wanted God to destroy them, instead of forgiving them.  But all people, no matter who they are, were created by God in God’s image.  God cares for all people—those who worship him and those who do not; those who do what is pleasing in God’s eyes and those who sin.  And God is working to call all people to repentance, to call all people away from evil and sin and death.  All people—and that includes not only us but also our enemies.  On that day when Christ comes again, and the dead are raised, and all the living and the dead are judged, there will be people of every land and nation and tribe and race.  And in that kingdom where God’s will is done, there will be peace instead of violence, love instead of hate, understanding instead of fear.

We wait for that day with hope.  We wait for the day we see our loved ones again and all evil and sin and death are destroyed forever.  We wait for the day when all those who have sacrificed for their country are given the reward they deserve.  We wait with hope, knowing that a new and better day is coming.  But while we wait, we have responsibilities here on earth.  We are called to live according to God’s will.  We are called to work for peace and justice and mercy in our own households, and across the world.  We are called to serve when there is just cause, but also to speak out when a conflict is not just.  As citizens in a democracy, we are called to use our political responsibilities thoughtfully and prayerfully, remembering that even our enemies are made in the image of God.

And always, always, we look forward to that great and glorious day, when wars will cease and Christ will come again, and we shall see him face to face.

Amen.