Blog Posts
Return to Normalcy and Other Fleshpots
Don’t think that I’ve come to bring peace to the earth. I haven’t come to bring peace but a sword (Matthew 10:34, CEB).
In the current political environment, many Americans are hoping for a “return to normalcy.” Such a pitch plucks at the heartstrings of many who are ready to vomit after too many sharp turns on the 2020 roller coaster.
Many of us just want to get back to the way things were—when masks were just a curious feature of foreign travelers, when visiting family didn’t require risk assessment, when self-scandalizing tweets didn’t hijack our news cycle, when church participation didn’t require a Zoom account, when outlets weren’t so clearly fueled and funded by rage, and when we didn’t have to squirm under the constant accusation of racism.
The return to normalcy argument derives its power from the common (and often beneficial!) human impulses to avoid conflict, stabilize life when it gets knocked off balance, resolve contradiction, organize chaos, and believe that we are good and decent people with upright intentions.
On its long trip from Egypt to Canaan, Ancient Israel experienced a similar urge to return to a more familiar and comfortable past (see Exodus 16:3).
The only problem was that their memory of the past was distorted. They remembered the fleshpots but not the chains.
Ironically, the promised “return to normalcy” means that 2020—like 2016—will be an election about nostalgia. But one thing sets 2020 apart from 2016: clarity. 2020 has seen the sins of generations washing up on the shores of our nation in ways that are profoundly public and profoundly painful. 2020 has been a year of judgment, when sinful seeds planted long ago are coming into maturity in ways that have compounding effects.
If divine judgment does one thing well, it brings into focus what was previously obscured or even ignored, separating wheat from husk and sheep from goats (Matthew 3:11-12; 25:31-46).
The fire of God’s judgment allows us to see ourselves as we truly are before God’s law of love. We are in a painful process in which our national eyes are slowly and reluctantly opening to truths that some in our population have suffered under for ages.
2020 has brought clarity about many particular things: clarity about racial disparities, clarity about the dangers of poor leadership, clarity about the weaknesses in our social fabric, clarity about the importance of robust free speech and assembly rights, clarity about the deficiencies in our health care system, clarity about the disrepair of the international order, and clarity about how lines of discrimination can exist in reality, even if they don’t exist legally.
But clarity is painful and costly.
It stings the way Nathan’s words to David must have stung: “you are that man” (2 Samuel 12:7). It crashes down on us like the waters crashed down on Pharaoh’s armies at the Red Sea. And it brings us face-to-face with one of the most disturbing aspects of Jesus’ ministry: confrontation.
Jesus’ ministry was inherently confrontational, as Matthew 10:34 indicates: “Don’t think that I’ve come to bring peace to the earth. I haven’t come to bring peace but a sword.”
Matthew’s Jesus is an apocalyptic figure, whose conflict with the powers of sin, death, and the devil are borne out through the Gospels. He recognized that true peace, shalom, requires confrontation.
Like the late John Lewis, Jesus was a troublemaker. When Jesus came to town, the powers of sin, death, and the devil surfaced. The demons showed their faces—not because they were powerful, but because they were vulnerable.
As the apocalyptic sword of divine judgment sweeps through our own land, ancient demons are emerging from their lairs with the kind of ferocity that comes only from desperation. In the apocalypse, the last thing we need is a return to normalcy.
Americans face an important question: Are we willing to exchange the moral clarity of this moment for a distorted memory of the past?
Is a “return to normalcy” really what is called for?
We ought to be concerned when and if “return to normalcy” is heard as a summons to a time when we saw less clearly, when we more easily overlooked our neighbor’s weathered face and scarred hands. The precious gift of moral clarity at this time of judgment is utterly invaluable.
And we ought not substitute that clarity for a morally dull sense of comfort.
Dr. Michael J. Chan
Host: Gospel Beautiful Podcast
Assistant Professor of Old Testament
Luther Seminary
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Monday, August 17 | 10:30am-1:00pm CDT
Church Anew has gathered a diverse group of Christian thought leaders to ignite innovation and imagination for leading congregations in a time like this. These keynote speakers will amplify the voices of local leaders from the Minneapolis area, who will share stories of how the church is leading in our own context, particularly in response to systemic racism in our communities.
Church Anew is dedicated to igniting faithful imagination and sustaining inspired innovation by offering transformative learning opportunities for church leaders and faithful people.
As an ecumenical and inclusive ministry of St. Andrew Lutheran Church, the content of each Church Anew blog represents the voice of the individual writer and does not necessarily reflect the position of Church Anew or St. Andrew Lutheran Church on any specific topic.
Back to School “or Not”?
Do you remember the “Would you rather” game? It was a good back-of-the-bus activity on field trips. Or slumber party fun for a group of pre-teens. Players have to choose between two less than desirable alternatives - to choose the least bad from the most bad. Like, would you rather step barefoot in dog-doo or have a bird poop on your head? You’d like to choose neither, but that’s not an option.
That’s how this “what to do with school in the fall” decision feels.
The option we all really want - for the pandemic to go away so students and teachers can return to the classroom, like before - isn’t available. That’s a hard no. And all of the remaining alternatives are bad in one way or another. Put kids and teachers (and bus drivers and lunch ladies and custodians, etc.) at risk by sending them? Or keep them home, knowing that such social and academic disruption is bad for most kids and truly terrible for some? To say nothing about what it does to families and employment options.
I don’t know about you, but my social media feed is filling up with memes and strongly worded advice/suggestions/demands from a whole raft of individuals, each of whom is convinced they know the right answer. None are particularly data-driven and most reflect the poster’s personal interests and/or fears quite narrowly.
In my mind, they just add more alarm and outrage to a conversation that is already saturated with both.
Pastor Todd Buegler of Trinity Lutheran in Owatonna, Minnesota posted this week calling for a Christian response to mask wearing. He reminds us that the Preamble to the Constitution of the United States says that our government is established to “provide for the common defense, promote the general Welfare, and secure the blessing of Liberty to ourselves and our Posterity.”
Buegler says, “The framers of the constitution were interested in establishing defense, for the sake of defending the other. They wanted to ensure not an individual’s welfare, but general welfare … the welfare of all.”
And they wanted to establish liberty that survived us and stretched to generations to come.
To this Jesus-loving pastor, that sounds a lot like “love your neighbor as yourself,” which Buegler goes on to point out. I find it reassuring that this ethic is so deeply embedded in the foundation of our nation, even if it’s one we struggle mightily to live up to.
It’s that whole “providing for the common welfare” that makes this decision about reopening schools so seemingly impossible. Family circumstances vary tremendously – how do you balance the welfare of the single-parent family with poor internet access with the experienced teacher who has an immunocompromised spouse at home?
How about the hungry kid in the abusive home? Or the parental employer who makes no allowances for parents to be home teachers as well? What about counties that have little or no COVID-19 activity? Or counties that have poor health care facilities? And what about the fact that no one knows for sure what this maniacal virus will do next? It’s crazy-making, isn’t it? Aren’t you glad you aren’t the one having to come up with decisions and guidelines?
So, let’s start by being grateful for that. Because you know, the minute the decision is announced, there will be hundreds, thousands of voices screaming “foul!” Social media platforms will be aflame with criticism, much of it snide, sarcastic, insulting and poorly-informed - no matter what is decided. The policies suggested will be hashed and rehashed by people whose vision doesn’t extend much past their own circumstances and needs. Truly, we don’t pay people enough to take this kind of abuse!
Let’s give thanks for those hard-working civil servants, scientists and policy-shapers that are tasked with “the general welfare.”
It seems impossibly complex. And let’s be grateful that, at this point in the pandemic, the Minnesota state government has proven itself to be collaborative, data-driven, thoughtful, smart and courageous.
And then, we can take a dose of humility and admit, that while we may have fiercely-held opinions on the subject, none of us, as individuals, have the resources, data and expertise that the decision-makers have. They will be listening to epidemiologists, teachers' union, parents, administrators, finance people and business owners/employers and hopefully people from every section of the social/economic spectrum.
Their job is to try to do what is least bad for the most people, taking into account the hundreds of factors that must be considered. And then, perhaps most daunting, they must bear the responsibility for the consequences.
So pray for them, please. Ask God to form their thoughts and guide their discerning. Pray for them to listen wisely and well, to practice compassion and to carry their responsibility with grace and humility.
Then, when the decision comes out, let’s commit ourselves, as citizens, to listen first - without second-guessing the whole deliberative process. Listen carefully, and respectfully to what the experts say, seeking understanding. Take a deep breath and again, give thanks for their hard work. And then, if you are a parent, you can carefully reason out if this solution will work for your family. And if not, start thinking about what you will do instead.
People of faith, remember that “love God and love your neighbor as yourself” are the greatest commandments of all. Remember, too, that God is always present and always at work for the well-being of God’s good creation.
You are loved. This too shall pass. All will be well … eventually.
Susan Weaver
Susan Weaver is a retired ELCA pastor, a spiritual director, a former parent educator and teacher. She is grandma to two beloved little girls and loves to read, learn and think out loud with others. She blogs occasionally at pastorgrandma.com
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Monday, August 17 | 10:30am-1:00pm CDT
Church Anew has gathered a diverse group of Christian thought leaders to ignite innovation and imagination for leading congregations in a time like this. These keynote speakers will amplify the voices of local leaders from the Minneapolis area, who will share stories of how the church is leading in our own context, particularly in response to systemic racism in our communities.
Church Anew is dedicated to igniting faithful imagination and sustaining inspired innovation by offering transformative learning opportunities for church leaders and faithful people.
As an ecumenical and inclusive ministry of St. Andrew Lutheran Church, the content of each Church Anew blog represents the voice of the individual writer and does not necessarily reflect the position of Church Anew or St. Andrew Lutheran Church on any specific topic.
How Love Shows Us the Way During Difficult Times
Bishop Michael Curry asks "what would love do" in a world upended by racial protests and the coronavirus.
Today, like Peter and the disciples, we must discern a new normal. The continued rise in cases of COVID-19 and the raising of voices in the streets following the deaths of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and Ahmaud Arbery have left us disoriented, uncertain, and confused, afraid of what we know and anxious about what we do not know. Our old normal has been upended, and we hunger for its return.
I do not say this from a lofty perch. I get it. There is a big part of me that wants to go back to January 2020 when I had never heard of COVID-19, and when I only thought of “Contagion” as a movie. Looking back through what I know are glasses darkened by loss, I find myself remembering January 2020 as a “golden age.”
But of course, January 2020 wasn’t perfect, not even close. And anyway, I can’t go back. None of us can go back. We must move forward. But we don’t know for sure what the new normal will be. Fortunately, God’s rubric of love shows us the way.
We’ve all been trying, making mistakes, learning, regrouping, trying anew. I’ve seen it. I’ve quietly read Morning Prayer, Evening Prayer, and Compline online with you. I’ve seen soup kitchens, pantries, and other feeding ministries carefully doing their work in safe and healthy ways. There are Zoom coffee hours, Bible studies, and small discipleship groups. I’ve seen people of many faiths stand for the moral primacy of love. I’ve seen it, even when public health concerns supersede all other considerations, including in-person worship. That is moral courage. Who knows, but that love may demand more of us. But fear not, just remember what the old slaves used to say, walk together, children, and don’t you get weary, because there is a great camp meeting in the Promised Land. Oh, I’ve seen us do what we never thought we would or could do, because we dared to do what Jesus tells us all to do.
As our seasons of life in the COVID-19 world continue to turn, we are called to continue to be creative, to risk, to love. We are called to ask, What would unselfish, sacrificial love do?
What would love do? Love is the community praying together, in ways old and new. Love finds a path in this new normal to build church communities around being in relationship with God. Love supports Christians in spiritual practices. Prayer, meditation, study. Turn, Learn, Pray, Worship, Bless, Go, Rest.
What would love do? Love calls us to care for our neighbors, for our enemies. Love calls us to attend to those in prison, to those who are homeless, to those in poverty, to children, to immigrants and refugees. Love calls us to be in relationship with those with whom we disagree.
What would love do? Love calls us to be gentle with ourselves, to forgive our own mistakes, to take seriously the Sabbath. Love calls us to be in love with God, to cultivate a loving relationship with God, to spend time with God, to be still and know that God is God.
A few weeks ago when so many things were happening, both in our country and in our wider world, I was on a Zoom call with a member of our staff working on videos and interviews and it was so much and so chaotic, I remember just saying, "Let's just stop, and pray.”
And the prayer I prayed was a prayer from The Book of Common Prayer. It's toward the end of the prayer book on page 832 called “For Quiet Confidence.” This prayer is based on a time in the life of the prophet Isaiah, when the people of Judah and Jerusalem were living in a time when their country was in turmoil and things were uncertain and chaos seemed to be ruling.
The prophet Isaiah said, "You must remember that it is in returning and rest, that you will be saved; in quietness and confidence, you will find your strength."
And this is the prayer we prayed and I offer it for all of us. Let us pray:
Oh, God of peace, who has taught us that in returning and in rest, we shall be saved; in quietness and in confidence shall be our strength. By the might of thy Spirit, lift us, we pray thee to thy presence, where we may be still and know that thou art God, through Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen.
God love you and keep the faith.
This online column has been shared with Church Anew with permission by the Office of the Right Reverend Michael B. Curry, The Episcopal Church, in its entirety as it appeared on Today.com July 15, 2020. The Most Rev. Michael Curry is the presiding bishop of the Episcopal Church and the author of the upcoming book "Love Is the Way: Holding On to Hope in Troubling Times," due out Sept. 22.
Bishop Michael Curry
The Most Rev. Michael B. Curry is Presiding Bishop and Primate of The Episcopal Church. He is the Chief Pastor and serves as President and Chief Executive Officer, and as Chair of the Executive Council of The Episcopal Church.
Facebook | @PBMBCurry
Twitter | @BishopCurry
Twitter | @episcopalchurch
Facebook | @episcopalian
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Monday, August 17 | 10:30am-1:00pm CDT
Church Anew has gathered a diverse group of Christian thought leaders to ignite innovation and imagination for leading congregations in a time like this. These keynote speakers will amplify the voices of local leaders from the Minneapolis area, who will share stories of how the church is leading in our own context, particularly in response to systemic racism in our communities.
Church Anew is dedicated to igniting faithful imagination and sustaining inspired innovation by offering transformative learning opportunities for church leaders and faithful people.
As an ecumenical and inclusive ministry of St. Andrew Lutheran Church, the content of each Church Anew blog represents the voice of the individual writer and does not necessarily reflect the position of Church Anew or St. Andrew Lutheran Church on any specific topic.
When Home is Not Home
“When I think of home, I think of a place where there’s love overflowing.” These are lines from the song, “Home,” written by Charles Small. “Home” is a timeless crowd-pleaser and tearjerker from the musical, The Wiz. This Broadway production turned movie is the Black answer to The Wizard of Oz. In both play and film, Dorothy’s longing for her home in Kansas is most poignantly expressed in song. She intones, “I wish I was back there with the things I've been knowing.”
There is a safety, security of home at least for most of us. The onset of the COVID-19 pandemic has forced us to pause and consider our relationship with the place and people associated with our homes. Sudden shifts to working remotely and ad nauseam Zoom meetings have exposed parts of our lives which had been selectively disclosed.
Now people from across the country get to peep into our private spaces.
Not only are our material goods or the lack thereof on blast, but the swaddling clothes of classism come to bear. Wi-Fi conundrums do not get interpreted as merely a cable issue, but as a financial one, suggesting a co-worker or colleague cannot afford better service. And truth is, perchance the individual cannot.
This corona context quickly coerced students to leave colleges and universities and retreat to their homes. Whereas many grumbled about leaving the apex of their social ecosystem, others were anxious about returning to places of fiscal instability, social dis-ease, and familial dysfunction. One cannot discount students who were homeless before going to college and who have returned to homelessness. Administrators of Historically Black Colleges and Universities note this (in)security.
It is existential dissonance to adhere to any mandate to shelter in place when one’s place of shelter is questionable or not existent.
People vulnerable pre-pandemic remain vulnerable during the pandemic. The pandemic is no pretty picture, but a painful panorama of physical, economic, and cultural inequities prior to its onset. What was broken before the virus, is still broken now and will remain fractured for days to come.
Life-work balance was a myth before talk of contact tracing. Today it is the unicorn in the room. Our homes are now offices, daycare centers, educational institutions, and religious facilities. E-learning quite often clashes with e-working, and the idea of e-worshipping seems like another online megillah. How dare anyone attempt to police what we do in our homes. This is not indicative of the “things we’ve been knowing,” and sometimes it does not feel “there’s love overflowing.”
When is home not home? For whom does home feel foreign?
African Americans question America as home. There is a perceived danger in our existence even when we are near or in our homes. The reckless, perpetual killing of Black bodies is evidence. Trayvon Martin was walking home when a no-cop killed him. Botham Jean was in his own apartment when a police office shot him. While on a call for one matter, police officers digressed and shot Keith Lamont Scott at his apartment complex. Playing a game with her nephew did not keep Atatiana Jefferson secure in her house. Sleeping while home was not a safety net for Breonna Taylor. #BlackLivesMatters resonates because for racist reasons we are deemed indispensable on playgrounds, at the beach, at the park, in the car, in church, and yes, even in our own homes.
When is home not home? For whom is home dangerous?
Victims of domestic violence are not “at home” during this pandemic. Studies show that domestic violence increases during natural disasters and crises. In a Covid context, where sheltering in place and physical distancing are the norm, isolation is one way in which perpetrators of intimate partner violence inflict abuse. Additionally, the increase in Zoom usage lends towards survivors reliving digital exploitation. Intimate partner violence has not only national, but global implications according to U.N. Secretary-General António Guterres, “For many women and girls, the threat looms largest where they should be safest — in their own homes.”
When is home not home? For whom is home a house of horror?
Children remain vulnerable to physical harm, verbal abuse, emotional hurt and sexual predatory practices. The shift to online learning means they are home more with their abusers. Without physical access to schools, libraries, religious institutions, or community centers, children are relegated to sheltering with adults who cannot shield them from trauma at their own hands. Targeting children and even pets becomes a means of furthering control in the home. Custody visits via Zoom can be uncomfortable if one parent wants to hide a home location. Sometimes home is just not home.
Hebrews 11:13-14 records, “All of these died in faith without having received the promises, but from a distance they saw and greeted them. They confessed that they were strangers and foreigners on the earth, for people who speak in this way make it clear that they are seeking a homeland.” The writer was addressing a group who had become disheartened in their faith. Their social context threatened their spiritual walk. In order to encourage this community, the writer pointed to the testimony their ancestors.
The displacement the community was experiencing was not dissimilar to what their foreparents had faced.
Biblical history notes a longing for home. Our current context rubber stamps this continued pining. We are seeking a place to call home, a place where there’s love overflowing, a place where we can finally rest and just be.
Dr. Stephanie Buckhanon Crowder
Stephanie Buckhanon Crowder, author, speaker and teacher, is a Baptist and Disciples of Christ minister who holds a Ph.D. in New Testament from Vanderbilt University. Her latest book is When Momma Speaks: The Bible and Motherhood from a Womanist Perspective. This #WomanistMomma currently serves as Associate Professor and Academic Dean at Chicago Theological Seminary.
Facebook: Stephanie Buckhanon Crowder
Twitter: @stepbcrowder
Instagram: StephBuckhanonC
Join Us for a FREE Event
Being Church Today
Monday, August 17 | 10:30am-1:00pm CDT
Church Anew has gathered a diverse group of Christian thought leaders to ignite innovation and imagination for leading congregations in a time like this. These keynote speakers will amplify the voices of local leaders from the Minneapolis area, who will share stories of how the church is leading in our own context, particularly in response to systemic racism in our communities.
Church Anew is dedicated to igniting faithful imagination and sustaining inspired innovation by offering transformative learning opportunities for church leaders and faithful people.
As an ecumenical and inclusive ministry of St. Andrew Lutheran Church, the content of each Church Anew blog represents the voice of the individual writer and does not necessarily reflect the position of Church Anew or St. Andrew Lutheran Church on any specific topic.