Today I finished Kazuo Ishiguro's Never Let Me Go. The book is a story of recollections from a girl who was raised for the sole purpose of donating her organs as an adult, donations resulting in her death. She and a number of other clones were raised at a unique boarding school that treated the clones similarly to normal children with a liberal arts education.
Their school, Hailsham, was unique because most other clones were treated as commodities, not people. Near the end, the characters weigh whether or not it was good for them to be taught to believe in their humanity or if they should be treated like the commodity they end up being.
One character asks, "Why Hailsham?" Why be taught to create art, to appreciate art, to be more than simply healthy, but also to enjoy life when, in the end, you are not seen or treated as fully human. Why Hailsham if you're going to be ignored and die in the end?
"Why Hailsham?" is a question from everyman and -woman when "Hailsham" is understood to be the home (-ham) from which one hails. Now the question is not only by and for the characters in the book, but also for us. Why life? Why are we raised to seek pleasure and think our lives are significant when we die at the end and donate our organs--and the rest of our bodies--to the cycle of existence?
Side by side with this question about the meaning and enjoyment of life, we are presented with the questions about another's quality life, about the Other's quality of life. What a natural progression: when pondering the meaning of one's own life, you are pondering life in general. If your life has meaning and deserves enjoyment, then the lives of others have meaning and deserve enjoyment.
"Never Let Me Go" left me with conviction. I act as if my life is meaningful, yet my life stands on the shoulders of suffering based on systemic issues about which I cannot change by myself or in a timely fashion.
Yet, today is the first Sunday of Advent, a time for hope, specifically hope for the coming of Christ. The church I attended this morning lit a candle for awareness instead of for hope. How appropriate for Never Let Me Go. In the novel, the main characters become more aware of their status in regards to the rest of the society and the more aware they become of themselves and the world. This awareness raises more questions than anything. The elevation of awareness gives rise to the need for hope--hope for meaning and hope for a better tomorrow.
By "a better tomorrow," I mean a tomorrow in which all life that is meaningful has the opportunity to enjoy life. Hope for fair trade practices, philanthropy, love of neighbor and equality regardless of your race, religion, gender expression, sexuality, nationality, or ethnicity. Hope that those who are hungry will receive bread and that those who have bread will be hungry for justice. Hope that the luxuries of life will not mean the suffering of those less fortunate. Hope that the poor will teach the rich lessons and, in turn, the rich will give the poor opportunities to turn their lives around.
And my hope is built on nothing less than Christ effecting that change. By "Christ" I mean God's transformative power--love. In this season of Advent, it is appropriate that my hope is for Christ's advent. However, my hope isn't a traditional Advent hope. I am not hoping for the second coming of Jesus. Rather, I am hoping for that same Christ we saw in Jesus to be in us. If humanity is to be the body of Christ, then the only hope for advent is that we embody Christ, that we embody the advent of Christ. Our hope is in a holy trinity: God, neighbor, and self.
I hope we will embody that Christ enough to turn the world upside down, like Jesus did before us.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Context: A False God
"Context" is one of the false gods of biblical studies, biblical studies referring not exclusively to what happens in the academy, but also in the church.
Context is especially praised at the level of translation. Just like in English, Greek, Hebrew, Latin, and Aramaic have words with many meanings. How do we determine which meaning to use in a given situation? Omniscient Context tells us.
The Ever-Blessed Context also receives much praise in hermeneutics (of which "translation" could be a subcategory, depending on how you look at it). Preachers and academics alike will tell you certain words, passages, and pericopes are misinterpreted, because they are taken out of Context's loving hands.
Take the Hebrew word dowd. It is translated "beloved" many times in the Song of Songs. Dowd is the same word used in describing how Esther and Mordecai know each other: she is the daughter of Mordecai's dowd, generally understood to be his uncle. How do we know that "dowd" refers to a lover in the Song of Songs and to an uncle in Esther and other places?
Thanks be to Context.
But Context isn't exactly clear here. Love in ancient Israel included a lot of relationships understood as taboo in current, US-American culture. Would it really have been that unheard of for Mordecai to have catamite or some other sort of male lover? Pederasty and homosexuality was not unheard of in ancient times and although Mordecai seems very traditionally Hebrew in this story, we cannot be sure how much he may have acclimated to Persian culture at this point in the exile.
But now I've gone outside of Context's realm. Context in translation is immediate context, not levitical laws, cultural mores, and, of course, the heterosexual bias of the majority of biblical translators and readers. By immediate context alone, we cannot translate the dowd of Esther or the Song of Songs definitively as uncle or lover.
However, Context is wider than just a single book. Although the Christian or Hebrew Bible is not immediate context for Esther--the book was written independently of any canon--it is an Israelite book and therefore has Israelite stories in its background, including levitical laws.
But levitical laws do not change the scandals that go on many places in the Bible. Sometimes God's decrees are neither obeyed nor condemned in the Bible. Famously, Hewbrew midwives in Egypt refused to obey Pharaoh when told to kill all baby boys born to Hebrew women. The midwives simply don't do it, but they concoct a story for Pharaoh. That is, they lie, breaking one of the Ten Commandments God later gives the Hebrew people. What is God's response to these lies? "So God was kind to the midwives" (Exodus 1:20). Mordecai could be a Sodomite and God might not care. Apparently God doesn't always care when you're a liar.
Where will Context lead us next? Or more precisely, where does Context end?
No matter how much we use the name of Context, it is in vain. If I argued well, you now see how Context (at least immediate context) cannot show us if Mordecai's relationship to Ahihail was lover or nephew. Neither do we know if the relationship in the Song of Songs is purely sexual or if it is sexual and familial. But we can still have more to consider in the name of Context, because we, too, are part of the Context.
The Hebrew scriptures did not "close" with the writing of the last book. Neither did it "close" with canonization. Interpretations came afterwards and people still cite how early Rabbis (famously, the Mishnah) and commentators understood those texts. They became part of the text the moment they read it, the moment they entered into it, learning it intimately, becoming dowd, both family and lover--becoming one.
Or, if you don't appreciate my blend of text- and reader-oriented theory, imagine, then, how some get from Context being the Hebrew scriptures to Context including the New Testament. Then how Context begins to include language: Hebrew, Greek, Latin, and English. For that matter, translation context includes many different versions of the texts we know as the individual books of the Bible. Finally, translation necessarily includes the translator as part of the context, because translation is interpretation. Then the subsequent interpreters have their own contexts that begin to swirl around in the amorphous context that influences the interpretations of other interpreters.
You may trust that God has aided translation to be accurate. Even so, you have again entered the context, because your interpretation includes your beliefs, what many hermeneuticians would prefer to call your "pretext." But, "il n'y a pas de hors-texte." It is all context.
You are context. I am context. Our histories, backgrounds, and cultures are context. Context is not omniscient in the sense that it knows all. However, perhaps Context is omniscient in the sense that it knows everything known, since everything is Context. We--everything--are the body of Context. When we die, we enter more completely (in the sense of being finished) into the relationship of the trinity of Context (author, text, and reader).
Perhaps Context isn't that false of a god after all, just not in the traditional understanding of a god.
Context is especially praised at the level of translation. Just like in English, Greek, Hebrew, Latin, and Aramaic have words with many meanings. How do we determine which meaning to use in a given situation? Omniscient Context tells us.
The Ever-Blessed Context also receives much praise in hermeneutics (of which "translation" could be a subcategory, depending on how you look at it). Preachers and academics alike will tell you certain words, passages, and pericopes are misinterpreted, because they are taken out of Context's loving hands.
Take the Hebrew word dowd. It is translated "beloved" many times in the Song of Songs. Dowd is the same word used in describing how Esther and Mordecai know each other: she is the daughter of Mordecai's dowd, generally understood to be his uncle. How do we know that "dowd" refers to a lover in the Song of Songs and to an uncle in Esther and other places?
Thanks be to Context.
But Context isn't exactly clear here. Love in ancient Israel included a lot of relationships understood as taboo in current, US-American culture. Would it really have been that unheard of for Mordecai to have catamite or some other sort of male lover? Pederasty and homosexuality was not unheard of in ancient times and although Mordecai seems very traditionally Hebrew in this story, we cannot be sure how much he may have acclimated to Persian culture at this point in the exile.
But now I've gone outside of Context's realm. Context in translation is immediate context, not levitical laws, cultural mores, and, of course, the heterosexual bias of the majority of biblical translators and readers. By immediate context alone, we cannot translate the dowd of Esther or the Song of Songs definitively as uncle or lover.
However, Context is wider than just a single book. Although the Christian or Hebrew Bible is not immediate context for Esther--the book was written independently of any canon--it is an Israelite book and therefore has Israelite stories in its background, including levitical laws.
But levitical laws do not change the scandals that go on many places in the Bible. Sometimes God's decrees are neither obeyed nor condemned in the Bible. Famously, Hewbrew midwives in Egypt refused to obey Pharaoh when told to kill all baby boys born to Hebrew women. The midwives simply don't do it, but they concoct a story for Pharaoh. That is, they lie, breaking one of the Ten Commandments God later gives the Hebrew people. What is God's response to these lies? "So God was kind to the midwives" (Exodus 1:20). Mordecai could be a Sodomite and God might not care. Apparently God doesn't always care when you're a liar.
Where will Context lead us next? Or more precisely, where does Context end?
"Il n'y a pas de hors-texte."There is nothing outside the text (or: there is no outside to the text). To state it positively: everything is context.
--Jacques Derrida
No matter how much we use the name of Context, it is in vain. If I argued well, you now see how Context (at least immediate context) cannot show us if Mordecai's relationship to Ahihail was lover or nephew. Neither do we know if the relationship in the Song of Songs is purely sexual or if it is sexual and familial. But we can still have more to consider in the name of Context, because we, too, are part of the Context.
The Hebrew scriptures did not "close" with the writing of the last book. Neither did it "close" with canonization. Interpretations came afterwards and people still cite how early Rabbis (famously, the Mishnah) and commentators understood those texts. They became part of the text the moment they read it, the moment they entered into it, learning it intimately, becoming dowd, both family and lover--becoming one.
Or, if you don't appreciate my blend of text- and reader-oriented theory, imagine, then, how some get from Context being the Hebrew scriptures to Context including the New Testament. Then how Context begins to include language: Hebrew, Greek, Latin, and English. For that matter, translation context includes many different versions of the texts we know as the individual books of the Bible. Finally, translation necessarily includes the translator as part of the context, because translation is interpretation. Then the subsequent interpreters have their own contexts that begin to swirl around in the amorphous context that influences the interpretations of other interpreters.
You may trust that God has aided translation to be accurate. Even so, you have again entered the context, because your interpretation includes your beliefs, what many hermeneuticians would prefer to call your "pretext." But, "il n'y a pas de hors-texte." It is all context.
You are context. I am context. Our histories, backgrounds, and cultures are context. Context is not omniscient in the sense that it knows all. However, perhaps Context is omniscient in the sense that it knows everything known, since everything is Context. We--everything--are the body of Context. When we die, we enter more completely (in the sense of being finished) into the relationship of the trinity of Context (author, text, and reader).
Perhaps Context isn't that false of a god after all, just not in the traditional understanding of a god.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Things To Do After The Rapture: Top 5 List
Did you hear Jesus might return to earth on Saturday? If he does, then my lack of belief in the calculability of any such date will likely result in my staying on this wonderful blue sphere we call earth. It is most likely way too late for me to change enough to get raptured, so I've compiled a quick list of things I might do if the rapture does occur on Saturday.
5. I'm already planning to visit my parents. While there, I will re-read the Left Behind series to figure out what I'm in for.
4. Re-read Revelation in the KJV. I didn't figure the rapture was going to happen in the first place, which is why I'm reading Left Behind first. This read through, I'll have a different perspective.
3. Get my two overtly religious tattoos covered up, just in case some sort of anti-Christ comes into power.
2. Move to a commune in the wilderness that grows their own, sustainable, organic food, but sneak in my iPod so I can listen to some cool tunes while gathering fire wood.
1. Thank God that the New Jerusalem really did descend to earth. I guess the rapture was God's way of getting rid of the crazies who think they can calculate a God-ordained apocalypse with a little bit of math and a Bible.
5. I'm already planning to visit my parents. While there, I will re-read the Left Behind series to figure out what I'm in for.
4. Re-read Revelation in the KJV. I didn't figure the rapture was going to happen in the first place, which is why I'm reading Left Behind first. This read through, I'll have a different perspective.
3. Get my two overtly religious tattoos covered up, just in case some sort of anti-Christ comes into power.
2. Move to a commune in the wilderness that grows their own, sustainable, organic food, but sneak in my iPod so I can listen to some cool tunes while gathering fire wood.
1. Thank God that the New Jerusalem really did descend to earth. I guess the rapture was God's way of getting rid of the crazies who think they can calculate a God-ordained apocalypse with a little bit of math and a Bible.
Thursday, May 12, 2011
Lesson(s) From Divinity School: Love, God, and Self
Despite the various classes I've taken during my four and a half years in divinity school, I've only learned about three things: love, God, and self.
Love may have been the hardest lesson I've had to learn. And, let's face it, I'm still learning it. Many people make a fuss over how English speakers use the word "love," condemning much usage as flippant. I love my dog. I love justice. I love pizza. I love my friends. I love my parents. I love my partner. I love my neighbor. I love God.
In each of these situations, love is a little different. Nobody loves pizza the same way they love their partner, at least, I hope not. And nobody loves their pet the same way they love God. If I were giving a sermon, this would be the part where I talk about the different kinds of love in biblical Greek and you all groan, because you've heard that sermon numerous times before.
Since this isn't a sermon, I want to let you in on a secret. Ancient Greek doesn't have a word for love, let alone three or four words for it. Greek has four different concepts that we translate as love, which is very different from saying Greek has four different loves. Instead, Greek saw agape, philia, eros, and storge as four different emotions. English, however, sees them as one.
Love is bigger than any of the four Greek loves, because it captures the similarities between my love for pizza and my love for God. And what beautiful similarities they are. How spectacular that we can express and mix our love through actions like the Eucharist, where we love God and food. Through times when we are good samaritans, loving God and neighbor.
Loves mix well together. In fact, I dare say it is an essentialist perspective that heuristically delineates types of love, when it is all one thing. One thing with various permutations. Variations on a theme. Love of God is love of neighbor and love of creation and love of self.
"Beloved, let us love one another: for love is of God; and everyone that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God. The one that loveth not knoweth not God; for God is love."
And thus my lesson about love turned into a lesson about God.
"The one that loveth not knoweth not God; for God is love." This lesson just keeps getting more and more difficult. As it turns out, knowing God has less to do with the ellusive, illusory line between orthodoxy and heresy and more to do with love, with relationship. And according to 1 John 4, it isn't about loving God, about singing hymns and praise songs about and to God, about going to Sunday school, about evangelism, about listening to Christian speakers and Christian music, about going into church buildings.
It--knowing God--is about loving that which and those whom God loves, which will include church and songs and school for some of us. But individuals tend to express love differently, which is why I make more trips to the recycling center than to church, why I don't read my Bible daily, and why I would rather listen about another person's faith than convince them to think like me.
Well, that last one wasn't completely true, which is why this lesson hasn't completely taken root in my life just yet. There are a few people, OK, a lot of people from whom I have no desire to hear. I want them to think like me and shut their mouths. Or, even if they weren't to think like me, I desire them to think a lot less like they do now.
As some of you may now, the PC-USA denomination recently paved the way for individual presbyteries to ordain homosexuals. I started reading Albert Mohler's thoughts, but I stopped, because I have no clue how to love that man. Loving someone you don't know is always a tricky matter, anyways. I could always pull the ol' "love-the-sinnner-hate-the-sin" trick out of the bag, but that isn't love, that is just something we say to make us feel better about our judgment.
But I don't always know how to love without judgment, no matter how much I praise love and deride judgment. In the face of my advocacy, in the center of my pursuit of God, love, equality, and social justice, I'm a judger. The person I want to be and the person I think I am is deconstructed by the person I am, my ego-ideal deconstructs my ideal-ego.
And thus my lesson about God has turned into a bit of navel-gazing, which isn't surprising to me anymore. When I search myself, I end up seeing and seeking God. When I look for God, my theology turns introspection. Maybe I'm a little ADD or maybe God carries the scars of humanity just as much as humanity carries the image of God.
1 Corinthians left us with faith, hope, and love. I leave you with Love, God, and Self. I'm not sure which is the greatest, because this trinity of lessons exist separately in my mind and in language, but they bleed into each other so much in reality that I cannot separate them systematically, not even enough to create a hierarchy. Perhaps they aren't all that different in the panentheistic interconnectivity that is our existence.
Love may have been the hardest lesson I've had to learn. And, let's face it, I'm still learning it. Many people make a fuss over how English speakers use the word "love," condemning much usage as flippant. I love my dog. I love justice. I love pizza. I love my friends. I love my parents. I love my partner. I love my neighbor. I love God.
In each of these situations, love is a little different. Nobody loves pizza the same way they love their partner, at least, I hope not. And nobody loves their pet the same way they love God. If I were giving a sermon, this would be the part where I talk about the different kinds of love in biblical Greek and you all groan, because you've heard that sermon numerous times before.
Since this isn't a sermon, I want to let you in on a secret. Ancient Greek doesn't have a word for love, let alone three or four words for it. Greek has four different concepts that we translate as love, which is very different from saying Greek has four different loves. Instead, Greek saw agape, philia, eros, and storge as four different emotions. English, however, sees them as one.
Love is bigger than any of the four Greek loves, because it captures the similarities between my love for pizza and my love for God. And what beautiful similarities they are. How spectacular that we can express and mix our love through actions like the Eucharist, where we love God and food. Through times when we are good samaritans, loving God and neighbor.
Loves mix well together. In fact, I dare say it is an essentialist perspective that heuristically delineates types of love, when it is all one thing. One thing with various permutations. Variations on a theme. Love of God is love of neighbor and love of creation and love of self.
"Beloved, let us love one another: for love is of God; and everyone that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God. The one that loveth not knoweth not God; for God is love."
And thus my lesson about love turned into a lesson about God.
"The one that loveth not knoweth not God; for God is love." This lesson just keeps getting more and more difficult. As it turns out, knowing God has less to do with the ellusive, illusory line between orthodoxy and heresy and more to do with love, with relationship. And according to 1 John 4, it isn't about loving God, about singing hymns and praise songs about and to God, about going to Sunday school, about evangelism, about listening to Christian speakers and Christian music, about going into church buildings.
It--knowing God--is about loving that which and those whom God loves, which will include church and songs and school for some of us. But individuals tend to express love differently, which is why I make more trips to the recycling center than to church, why I don't read my Bible daily, and why I would rather listen about another person's faith than convince them to think like me.
Well, that last one wasn't completely true, which is why this lesson hasn't completely taken root in my life just yet. There are a few people, OK, a lot of people from whom I have no desire to hear. I want them to think like me and shut their mouths. Or, even if they weren't to think like me, I desire them to think a lot less like they do now.
As some of you may now, the PC-USA denomination recently paved the way for individual presbyteries to ordain homosexuals. I started reading Albert Mohler's thoughts, but I stopped, because I have no clue how to love that man. Loving someone you don't know is always a tricky matter, anyways. I could always pull the ol' "love-the-sinnner-hate-the-sin" trick out of the bag, but that isn't love, that is just something we say to make us feel better about our judgment.
But I don't always know how to love without judgment, no matter how much I praise love and deride judgment. In the face of my advocacy, in the center of my pursuit of God, love, equality, and social justice, I'm a judger. The person I want to be and the person I think I am is deconstructed by the person I am, my ego-ideal deconstructs my ideal-ego.
And thus my lesson about God has turned into a bit of navel-gazing, which isn't surprising to me anymore. When I search myself, I end up seeing and seeking God. When I look for God, my theology turns introspection. Maybe I'm a little ADD or maybe God carries the scars of humanity just as much as humanity carries the image of God.
1 Corinthians left us with faith, hope, and love. I leave you with Love, God, and Self. I'm not sure which is the greatest, because this trinity of lessons exist separately in my mind and in language, but they bleed into each other so much in reality that I cannot separate them systematically, not even enough to create a hierarchy. Perhaps they aren't all that different in the panentheistic interconnectivity that is our existence.
Things God Hates: Top 5 List
While thinking about the Westboro Baptist Church tonight, I thought it might be fun to think of things God hates. N.B.: This list will not include homosexuals.
1. God hates signs.
I'm thinking church signs that have cheesy messages, offensive messages, or messages with errors. I'm also thinking of political signs, especially ones promoting a candidate for office or ones with the phrase "God Bless America." They're ugly and they don't make a difference. Although, I wonder how God would feel about an ironic sign touting the phrase, "God hates signs."
2. God hates Esau.
If your name is Esau, you better hope you ain't that Esau. Malachi 1:3.
3. God hates tracts.
Well, this one isn't completely true. I doubt God hates anyone's digestive or urinary tract. However, I cannot imagine God loves people using natural resources to publish and pass out some of the worst evangelistic tools known to existence. Tracts are going to "lead people to Jesus" as much as saying things like "Love the sinner, hate the sin," the "do you know where you'll go if you die tonight?" question, and, of course, carrying signs with the words "God hates fags" on them.
4. God hates being referred to as a man.
I doubt God minds it when you refer to Jesus as a man, since he had (has?) a penis. However, most theologians will agree that God has neither penis nor testicle, neither functioning mammary glands nor vulva. God is not a man and I imagine God is pretty tired of people refusing to overthrow patriarchal language. "I think it sounds more personal when I use gendered language." Well, buck-o, why don't you cry God a river. And while you're at it, get a mop and clean up that river of tears, you baby, because it is the twenty-first century and women are still being oppressed, and badly. Language helps correct mistakes in our actions. That is, language can help prevent people from sinning. So watch your mouth, buddy. But don't worry, when it comes to using masculine pronouns, God loves the sinner, not the sin.
5. God doesn't hate people who don't reduce, reuse, and recycle, but she probably wishes those people would start thinking about the environment more.
For example, if you are going to post a sign on your front lawn stating all of your reasoning for why someone should be elected president, viz., their name, consider re-using materials to make this sign, viz., your sign from the last election when said candidate wasn't elected, most likely because you didn't put up enough signs. You can now make your sign in three easy steps: 1) Cross out the '08 and use a marker with eco-friendly, water-based ink to write '12; 2) Cross out "McCain" and circle "Palin" really big; 3) Write "God bless America" somewhere on your sign so Christian voters who happen to drive by your street will be swayed by your sign.
1. God hates signs.
I'm thinking church signs that have cheesy messages, offensive messages, or messages with errors. I'm also thinking of political signs, especially ones promoting a candidate for office or ones with the phrase "God Bless America." They're ugly and they don't make a difference. Although, I wonder how God would feel about an ironic sign touting the phrase, "God hates signs."
2. God hates Esau.
If your name is Esau, you better hope you ain't that Esau. Malachi 1:3.
3. God hates tracts.
Well, this one isn't completely true. I doubt God hates anyone's digestive or urinary tract. However, I cannot imagine God loves people using natural resources to publish and pass out some of the worst evangelistic tools known to existence. Tracts are going to "lead people to Jesus" as much as saying things like "Love the sinner, hate the sin," the "do you know where you'll go if you die tonight?" question, and, of course, carrying signs with the words "God hates fags" on them.
4. God hates being referred to as a man.
I doubt God minds it when you refer to Jesus as a man, since he had (has?) a penis. However, most theologians will agree that God has neither penis nor testicle, neither functioning mammary glands nor vulva. God is not a man and I imagine God is pretty tired of people refusing to overthrow patriarchal language. "I think it sounds more personal when I use gendered language." Well, buck-o, why don't you cry God a river. And while you're at it, get a mop and clean up that river of tears, you baby, because it is the twenty-first century and women are still being oppressed, and badly. Language helps correct mistakes in our actions. That is, language can help prevent people from sinning. So watch your mouth, buddy. But don't worry, when it comes to using masculine pronouns, God loves the sinner, not the sin.
5. God doesn't hate people who don't reduce, reuse, and recycle, but she probably wishes those people would start thinking about the environment more.
For example, if you are going to post a sign on your front lawn stating all of your reasoning for why someone should be elected president, viz., their name, consider re-using materials to make this sign, viz., your sign from the last election when said candidate wasn't elected, most likely because you didn't put up enough signs. You can now make your sign in three easy steps: 1) Cross out the '08 and use a marker with eco-friendly, water-based ink to write '12; 2) Cross out "McCain" and circle "Palin" really big; 3) Write "God bless America" somewhere on your sign so Christian voters who happen to drive by your street will be swayed by your sign.
Friday, April 22, 2011
Good Friday Meets Earth Day: Tweets & Reflections on Dying and Living during Holy Week
My "tweets" for Good Friday and Earth Day:
Don't make the earth go dark again, be Christ on this earth by caring for all of God's earth and all in God's earth. #goodfirday #earthday
If Jesus suffered & died for your sins, don't let people suffer for your food. Drink fair trade coffee @ home & church #goodfriday#earthday
Put your faith into action at church. Don't use styrofoam for coffee at church. Use mugs. Have people bring their own. #goodfriday#earthday
Broaken & multiplied loaves foreshadow Good Friday & Easter. The earth is breaking & only we can replenish it. #goodfriday #earthday
The Earth groans for salvation. It mourns w/us this Good Friday.#goodfriday #earthday
When Jesus died, the earth is said to have shaken. God & the Earth have a close relationship. Honor one, honor both. #goodfriday#goodearthday
In "Due Date," Jamie Foxx's character uses a reusable coffee filter in his home. Will you? #earthday #godsearth
When today began, I was unsure how to celebrate Earth Day and observe Good Friday. Good Friday is a somber day, a time to remember Jesus' suffering. A time to mourn Jesus' death. No death is "good." Even if good comes from a death, it is unfortunate that someone had to die. Even Jesus.
Good Friday is also a time to mourn our sins and the havoc they--no--the havoc we wreak. The wages of sin are not just death, but also the immediate consequences of our sins. If we do not take care of our body, we get sick or we die sooner than we might have otherwise. If we are cruel to someone, we receive regret and their scorn, hurt and physical and/or mental bruise
Those last examples scar me the most. When I mourn my sin, I mostly mourn how other people pay for the wages of my sins. Many commemorate Jesus as paying the price for our sins, but there are a few expenses not even Jesus could pay. If I hit someone, they still bruise. If I berate my children, they develop the psychological complexes. If I buy cheap chocolate, coffee, and tea, the people doing the most menial tasks to produce those luxuries pay the price I don't pay as their quality of life goes down. [1] The same goes for when I buy clothing produced at sweat shops, especially cheap clothing, but even many more chic, more expensive brands and stores. If I buy a lot of individually wrapped granola bars, candy bars, or fast food, the earth pays. God's earth pays. And everything on the earth pays, too. Including us.
God did not send Jesus to pay for those wages of sin. Those wages are ours to pay. So on this Good Friday and Earth Day, I thank God for Christ on the cross and the Earth we all ravage. I remember the death of Jesus and the dying of the Earth. I remember that sins cause death and sins cause suffering, not just suffering on the cross, but also suffering on this earth. And I remember that caring for the Earth is caring for people, just like loving all people is loving God.
Dear reader, I hope you have a meaningful end of your Holy Week. As we come to celebrate Easter, let us celebrate the life of Christ by being Christ, by restoring God's creation to its glory--people, animal, and earth alike.
Footnote:
[1] Christians send missionaries and mission teams to the same people who suffer from our cheap coffee, tea, chocolate, and clothing. If we send mission teams without purchasing fairly traded luxuries, then we are sending quite the mixed message. We say, essentially, that we care for their afterlife, not their current life. We say it is OK for them to suffer in this life because of us and then live beside us in the next.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Plead Your Case Before the Mountains, Or Micah's Command to "Mishpat," "Hesed," and "Halak"
God my parent, say more than I can say with these words.
Jesus, hear more in these words than any of us can hear in them.
Holy Spirit, do with these words more than we can ever dream of doing.
Bless us through your words that we might bless others with your actions through them.
In your name I pray, amen.
In order to approach Micah 6, we need to understand a little about the first five chapters. The author speaks to a culture not too unlike ours, describing sins that fit into two categories. The first are religious sins, sins against God. The people are worshipping idols and focusing on religious places outside of the Jerusalem temple. And even when they are faithful to the religion God gave them, they become too proud in their interpretations of it, having more fidelity in the letters of their laws than in the God behind them.
The other type of sins are social sins, those committed against neighbors. People are seizing property, which is an especially heinous sin in Israel. Israelites don't just have land, they inherit it as a gift from God. When someone takes the field of an Israelite, they have taken away a God-given right. Micah also paints the people as hungry for money, power, and luxury. It seems the rich enjoy their fancy lives by exploiting the poor. Instead of religious and political leaders doing their work for their God and their neighbors, they do it for their own gain.
With these sins in mind, the author creates a courtroom metaphor in chapter 6. By doing so, all the previously named sins are in mind. The people know they have done wrong and God summons them to plead their case before the mountains, who play the roles of judge and jury.
God summons the earth, because the earth was created before humanity and has been witness to every human deed since before it held the blood of Abel that cried out to God.
With the earth listening, God dares the people present their case, but not a case to show them innocent. Rather, they are to accuse God of breaking the covenant. At least, their actions suggest that they believe God has broken the covenant. God is fed up, asking them to present a proper accusation instead of passive-aggressive sinning.
Hearing no response from the people or, perhaps, giving them no time to respond, God speaks for the people, recounting the interactions between God and Israel, searching for a time when the people were treated wrongly. God begins with the exodus, where the Hebrew people were delivered from slavery, lead by Moses, Aaron, and Miriam.
God continues to taunt the people, asking them if they can remember their own history, asking about the time when Balak asked Balaam to curse Israel, but Balaam could not. Asking if they remember the sins they committed when they resided in Shittim, east of the Jordan river, and how God nonetheless helped them proceed, miraculously, into the Promised Land. Asking if they remember how they lived in Gilgal while they became the conquerors and slave-holders in that same land, blessed by their God despite their disobeying divine ordinances and using Gilgal as a nest of idolatry.
When God's statements are over, the people know they have no case. Instead, they must find a way to approach God and find divine forgiveness. Remember, their position is not unlike ours. Their search for a way to please God is our own search.
They begin with the least thing of which their minds can think and progress to the greatest conceivable sacrifice. They focus each option on whether or not it will please God and the answer to each option is no, excepting the last option. The last option is so serious, they cannot help but think of themselves.
Should they bow before God? No, that's not enough.
Would God want a year-old calf or other burnt offerings? No. Although required by divine law, it isn't enough now that the law has been broken.
Perhaps God could be pleased by a thousand rams with rivers of oil numbering in the tens of thousands? This option is beyond the requirements of the law, but, still, no, not enough.
Their next idea draws from the past. After all, Yhwh seems to be emphasizing the past a lot, from the creation of the earth, to the exodus, the law, the crossing of the Jordan river, and even the conquest and dwelling in the Promised Land. They think back to Abraham and one of the first commands Yhwh gave according to Israelite tradition: the command to kill Isaac, Abraham's son. Knowing the weight of this sacrifice, the people state the possibility twice: "Will I give my first born for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my life?"
That's a real option for the Israelites. We know as well as the people that Yhwh said no to Abraham, letting Isaac live. But another story of child sacrifice exists, one we don't remember as well as the Hebrews might have. In the book of Judges, we read a tale where Yhwh makes no effort to save the daughter of Jephthah given as a burnt offering to God (Judges 11:29-39). For the Hebrews, God is a God who sometimes accepts child sacrifice. Thousands of years later many Christians believe God required the life of his own son for the forgiveness of sin. Child sacrifice is not out of the question when it comes to Yhwh their God and Yhwh our God. The people do not know the final answer to that final question.
For us, child sacrifice is not a live option, despite our religious history. We simply don't think in those terms. At least, not exactly. Every decision a parent makes is a decision affecting their children. Those of us without children still make decisions that impact the world around us and the future of humanity's existence in this world. Most of us have heard stories in which a parent, often times a pastor, thinks they are giving something to God and that thing, be it money, love, or time, sacrifices the well-being of the children involved.
Someone responds to the people in verse 8. Perhaps the mountains themselves respond, as if the rocks and stones are crying out when no one else will. They speak in light of the history of Israel and God's righteous deeds. When the mountains make their address, they address "O mortal," using the Hebrew word "adam," a word meaning earth, people, and the Adam of Adam-and-Eve fame.
By using the word "Adam" instead of one of the other Hebrew words for "people," Micah says God's requirements are consistent. They are the same requirements for all people since before Adam and and after Jesus. They are not just Israel's requirements, they are our requirements.
As an answer to our sin, God requires us all "to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God."
The people asked how they should approach God and instead of answering their questions, they receive a vague response about what God requires of them. Micah doesn't even explicitly define what each of these requirements mean. However, our knowledge of chapters 1-5 combined with a few tidbits from chapter 7 will open up these three short requirements.
Before I proceed, be warned. I don't have the key to what Micah is talking about. Like everyone here, I have approached this book with baggage and I cannot help but place my baggage into how I read. So as we continue, remember what LeVar Burton used to say at the end of his television show, Reading Rainbow: "you don't have to take my word for it." With Burton, I encourage you to look into these words yourselves.
Justice (mishpat)
From what I can tell, Micah nuances justice two ways. The first nuance is best summarized by Deuteronomy 19:21: "Thus you shall not show pity: life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot." This is the justice in our court rooms in the robed figure of blind Lady Justice with cloth over her eyes, a sword in her left hand and scales in her right hand. Her blindness keeps her from being swayed by who is involved in a situation. She is concerned with law, "fairness," and what somebody "deserves," as symbolized in the scales. This sort of justice is consistent with our idea of "judgment."
The judgment side of justice has a place in Micah. In chapter 7, Micah begins, "Woe is me! For I am like the fruit pickers, like the grape gatherers. There is not a cluster of grapes to eat, or a first-ripe fig which I crave." Micah is harvesting, literally reaping what he sews, but not enjoying the fruit of the harvest. Like modern-day cocoa and coffee farmers, he supports the rich with his labor while the rich enjoy cheap luxuries while paying meager wages to those who provide the luxuries.
Micah interprets this unfortunate experience as payment for his sins, as God's "judgment." In 7:9 he says, "I will bear the indignation of Yhwh because I have sinned against him." Micah mourns his situation, but sees it as just. After all, the law in Deuteronomy says God will curse sins and bless faithfulness, which is why the court metaphor is so appropriate. God has been faithful to the covenant, the people have not. Therefore, they will be punished. That's judgment. That's justice.
At least, one sense of justice. Listen again to Micah 7:9, this time in its entirety: "I will bear the indignation of Yhwh because I have sinned against him, until he pleads my case and executes justice for me. He will bring me out to the light and I will see his righteousness." According to this verse, it is just for God to deliver judgment on Micah. However, it is also just for God to deliver Micah out of judgment, out of justice into justice.
This justice is not blind. Instead of Lady Justice knowing the letter of the law, this nuance of justice looks at people, recognizes their beauty, and feels for them. Because God is just, God wants to deliver people simply because they are people and carry the image of God. We see this justice all over the Hebrew and Christian scriptures. Every time God delivers or reaches out, it is because of God's righteousness and grace, not because of the person's merit. This, too, is justice.
Since Micah has already foretold God's judgment, I think Micah is asking for the second sort of justice from us. Judgment has its place in this world, the place where Yhwh put it in Israel: in the rules of the community. But in our personal lives, Micah calls for a different sort of justice, the kind where we aren't judging and condemning, where we aren't acting based on anyone's sins against us or God. Rather, doing justice is doing justice based on the righteousness of God: loving people, serving them, letting them serve us, and letting them serve with us. When it comes to justice, no person's sins matter. The love of God matters.
Kindness (hesed)
And so we will seek to do justice, and we will do it, because of the second command, because we "love kindness." The Hebrew word "kindness," like the Hebrew word "justice," is a word that often appears in the Israelite faith and religion. Whereas "justice" addresses our relationship to the world around us, "kindness" addresses our feelings and response to God. The word evokes consistent actions from consistent feelings. To better understand it, we can see it in context in Micah 7:18: "Who is a God like you, who pardons iniquity and passes over the rebellious act of the remnant of his possession? He does not retain his anger forever, because he delights in unchanging love." Here "unchanging love" is that same word elsewhere translated as "kindness." It is this "kindness" or "unchanging love" that we are supposed to love.
We are supposed to love it, because God delights in it. It is this sort of unchanging love through which we understand God's relation to creation. This "unchanging love" is the reason for Genesis 1:1: "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth." It is the reason for the incarnation: "for God so loved the world." It is the reason God interacts with all of creation and the reason that even the earth groans for salvation, as Paul says.
If we love kindness, love God's kindness, love God's unchanging love that inspires God to continually descend to creation and redeem it, then we will want to do justice to all, to every Adam and to every Eve, to everything created by God. When we love this "kindness" and do this "justice," they will become more than our actions and our affections, they will be who we are.
Live Humbly with Your God (halak)
It is difficult to inspire ourselves to love something. So, Micah offers us a little tip: "walk humbly with your God." Walking--or for those who cannot walk, traveling--is a metaphor for life and another word familiar to the Israelite religion. In Deuteronomy, Moses asks the people "to love the LORD your God, and to walk in [God's] ways always." Micah builds upon this metaphor, not just saying we should live and walk in God's ways, but to live and walk humbly with our God. Traveling and living with someone indicates intimacy. As we begin to know our God better, we will begin to recognize God's image where we see it. We will begin to recognize the image of God in others. And if we love our God, we will love others and delight in kindness towards them, in doing justice.
There it is, church. There is the crux of this passage and why Micah can stop at this command and move on to something else.
You see, humility in traveling means recognizing you're not the only one traveling. On an airplane, it could mean considering the person behind you before putting your seat back. On a bus or train, it might mean offering your seat to someone who might need it more. While traveling through life, humility begins by recognizing God travels with us. But it isn't just "me and God." It isn't just my family and God, my church and God, the Church and God, my country and God, or all people and God. Life is a journey all creation travels together. And God's image is everywhere on that journey and everywhere in creation. If we love God, then in humility we recognize that God's "unchanging love" is everywhere and we will want to do justice to all.
As it turns out, the only way to live and walk humbly with our God is to love kindness and to do justice. Centuries later, Jesus will say essentially the same thing when stating the two greatest commandments: we love God by loving our neighbor. We delight in God by delighting in what God delights: justice and kindness.
Loving your neighbor is the way you love God. Doing justice and loving mercy is the way to walk humbly with your God. And although I still encourage you to look at this passage for yourself, don't forget that doing justice and loving mercy isn't just reading, studying, and praying, which are ways to deal with religious sins.. Like Micah's audience, we need to examine our sins against God. But we also need to examine our sins against God's creation and all that is in it: our neighbors. Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness are God-given rights, and many of the luxuries we enjoy today stand in the way of other people's lives, liberties, pursuit of happiness, and pursuit of God.
Remember, our situation isn't too unlike Micah's. So as we leave the sanctity of this place and enter the sanctity of the world around us, let us seek justice to do, kindness to love, and our God, with whom we can walk humbly. Otherwise, we might soon be asked to plead our own case before the mountains.
Jesus, hear more in these words than any of us can hear in them.
Holy Spirit, do with these words more than we can ever dream of doing.
Bless us through your words that we might bless others with your actions through them.
In your name I pray, amen.
Micah 6:1-8
as translated by Trevar
Listen (shema) to that which Yhwh is saying.
Arise! Plead your case before the mountains / and let the hills listen (shema) to your voice.
Listen (shema), O mountains, to the legal case of Yhwh, / O the permanent foundations of earth,
because Yhwh has a legal case concerning [God's] people / because with Israel [God] will argue. (1)
"My people, what have I done to you? / And what? have I wearied you all? Answer to me.
For I caused you all to go up from the land of Egypt / and from the house of servants I ransomed you
And I sent before you Moses, / Aaron, and Miriam.
My people, remember what Balak advised the king of Moab / and what Balaam son of Beor answered to him,
from Shittim to Gilgal / for the sake of knowledge of Yhwh's righteousness."
By what means will I approach Yhwh? / [By what means] will I be bowed before the high God?
Shall I approach him with burnt offerings (2)? / With year-old calves?
Will Yhwh be pleased with a thousand rams? / With a multitude (3) of rivers of oil?
Will I give my first born [for] my transgression? / [the] fruit of my body [for] the sin of my life? (4)
[God] will declare to you, O mortal, what is good: / And what does Yhwh seeks from you,
but to do justice (mishpat) / and to love kindness (chesed), / and to walk humbly with your God? (5)(1) Or: "and [God] will adjudicate among Israel." The verb, normally in the hiphil, means decide, adjudge, or prove. Here, it is in the Hithpael, giving it a back-and-forth connotation.
(2) The Hebrew for "burnt offerings" is a homonym for "injustices."
(3) Literally, "tens of thousands."
(4) Without the added "for" in English, this verse could suggest the people wondering if their sins will go unforgiven and, as a result, their progeny will inherit their sins and the punishment for those sins.
(5) "Kindness" can be translated as "loving-kindness" or "mercy." "Walk" can be translated as "live."
In order to approach Micah 6, we need to understand a little about the first five chapters. The author speaks to a culture not too unlike ours, describing sins that fit into two categories. The first are religious sins, sins against God. The people are worshipping idols and focusing on religious places outside of the Jerusalem temple. And even when they are faithful to the religion God gave them, they become too proud in their interpretations of it, having more fidelity in the letters of their laws than in the God behind them.
The other type of sins are social sins, those committed against neighbors. People are seizing property, which is an especially heinous sin in Israel. Israelites don't just have land, they inherit it as a gift from God. When someone takes the field of an Israelite, they have taken away a God-given right. Micah also paints the people as hungry for money, power, and luxury. It seems the rich enjoy their fancy lives by exploiting the poor. Instead of religious and political leaders doing their work for their God and their neighbors, they do it for their own gain.
With these sins in mind, the author creates a courtroom metaphor in chapter 6. By doing so, all the previously named sins are in mind. The people know they have done wrong and God summons them to plead their case before the mountains, who play the roles of judge and jury.
God summons the earth, because the earth was created before humanity and has been witness to every human deed since before it held the blood of Abel that cried out to God.
With the earth listening, God dares the people present their case, but not a case to show them innocent. Rather, they are to accuse God of breaking the covenant. At least, their actions suggest that they believe God has broken the covenant. God is fed up, asking them to present a proper accusation instead of passive-aggressive sinning.
Hearing no response from the people or, perhaps, giving them no time to respond, God speaks for the people, recounting the interactions between God and Israel, searching for a time when the people were treated wrongly. God begins with the exodus, where the Hebrew people were delivered from slavery, lead by Moses, Aaron, and Miriam.
God continues to taunt the people, asking them if they can remember their own history, asking about the time when Balak asked Balaam to curse Israel, but Balaam could not. Asking if they remember the sins they committed when they resided in Shittim, east of the Jordan river, and how God nonetheless helped them proceed, miraculously, into the Promised Land. Asking if they remember how they lived in Gilgal while they became the conquerors and slave-holders in that same land, blessed by their God despite their disobeying divine ordinances and using Gilgal as a nest of idolatry.
When God's statements are over, the people know they have no case. Instead, they must find a way to approach God and find divine forgiveness. Remember, their position is not unlike ours. Their search for a way to please God is our own search.
They begin with the least thing of which their minds can think and progress to the greatest conceivable sacrifice. They focus each option on whether or not it will please God and the answer to each option is no, excepting the last option. The last option is so serious, they cannot help but think of themselves.
Should they bow before God? No, that's not enough.
Would God want a year-old calf or other burnt offerings? No. Although required by divine law, it isn't enough now that the law has been broken.
Perhaps God could be pleased by a thousand rams with rivers of oil numbering in the tens of thousands? This option is beyond the requirements of the law, but, still, no, not enough.
Their next idea draws from the past. After all, Yhwh seems to be emphasizing the past a lot, from the creation of the earth, to the exodus, the law, the crossing of the Jordan river, and even the conquest and dwelling in the Promised Land. They think back to Abraham and one of the first commands Yhwh gave according to Israelite tradition: the command to kill Isaac, Abraham's son. Knowing the weight of this sacrifice, the people state the possibility twice: "Will I give my first born for my transgression, the fruit of my body for the sin of my life?"
That's a real option for the Israelites. We know as well as the people that Yhwh said no to Abraham, letting Isaac live. But another story of child sacrifice exists, one we don't remember as well as the Hebrews might have. In the book of Judges, we read a tale where Yhwh makes no effort to save the daughter of Jephthah given as a burnt offering to God (Judges 11:29-39). For the Hebrews, God is a God who sometimes accepts child sacrifice. Thousands of years later many Christians believe God required the life of his own son for the forgiveness of sin. Child sacrifice is not out of the question when it comes to Yhwh their God and Yhwh our God. The people do not know the final answer to that final question.
For us, child sacrifice is not a live option, despite our religious history. We simply don't think in those terms. At least, not exactly. Every decision a parent makes is a decision affecting their children. Those of us without children still make decisions that impact the world around us and the future of humanity's existence in this world. Most of us have heard stories in which a parent, often times a pastor, thinks they are giving something to God and that thing, be it money, love, or time, sacrifices the well-being of the children involved.
Someone responds to the people in verse 8. Perhaps the mountains themselves respond, as if the rocks and stones are crying out when no one else will. They speak in light of the history of Israel and God's righteous deeds. When the mountains make their address, they address "O mortal," using the Hebrew word "adam," a word meaning earth, people, and the Adam of Adam-and-Eve fame.
By using the word "Adam" instead of one of the other Hebrew words for "people," Micah says God's requirements are consistent. They are the same requirements for all people since before Adam and and after Jesus. They are not just Israel's requirements, they are our requirements.
As an answer to our sin, God requires us all "to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God."
The people asked how they should approach God and instead of answering their questions, they receive a vague response about what God requires of them. Micah doesn't even explicitly define what each of these requirements mean. However, our knowledge of chapters 1-5 combined with a few tidbits from chapter 7 will open up these three short requirements.
Before I proceed, be warned. I don't have the key to what Micah is talking about. Like everyone here, I have approached this book with baggage and I cannot help but place my baggage into how I read. So as we continue, remember what LeVar Burton used to say at the end of his television show, Reading Rainbow: "you don't have to take my word for it." With Burton, I encourage you to look into these words yourselves.
Justice (mishpat)
From what I can tell, Micah nuances justice two ways. The first nuance is best summarized by Deuteronomy 19:21: "Thus you shall not show pity: life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot." This is the justice in our court rooms in the robed figure of blind Lady Justice with cloth over her eyes, a sword in her left hand and scales in her right hand. Her blindness keeps her from being swayed by who is involved in a situation. She is concerned with law, "fairness," and what somebody "deserves," as symbolized in the scales. This sort of justice is consistent with our idea of "judgment."
The judgment side of justice has a place in Micah. In chapter 7, Micah begins, "Woe is me! For I am like the fruit pickers, like the grape gatherers. There is not a cluster of grapes to eat, or a first-ripe fig which I crave." Micah is harvesting, literally reaping what he sews, but not enjoying the fruit of the harvest. Like modern-day cocoa and coffee farmers, he supports the rich with his labor while the rich enjoy cheap luxuries while paying meager wages to those who provide the luxuries.
Micah interprets this unfortunate experience as payment for his sins, as God's "judgment." In 7:9 he says, "I will bear the indignation of Yhwh because I have sinned against him." Micah mourns his situation, but sees it as just. After all, the law in Deuteronomy says God will curse sins and bless faithfulness, which is why the court metaphor is so appropriate. God has been faithful to the covenant, the people have not. Therefore, they will be punished. That's judgment. That's justice.
At least, one sense of justice. Listen again to Micah 7:9, this time in its entirety: "I will bear the indignation of Yhwh because I have sinned against him, until he pleads my case and executes justice for me. He will bring me out to the light and I will see his righteousness." According to this verse, it is just for God to deliver judgment on Micah. However, it is also just for God to deliver Micah out of judgment, out of justice into justice.
This justice is not blind. Instead of Lady Justice knowing the letter of the law, this nuance of justice looks at people, recognizes their beauty, and feels for them. Because God is just, God wants to deliver people simply because they are people and carry the image of God. We see this justice all over the Hebrew and Christian scriptures. Every time God delivers or reaches out, it is because of God's righteousness and grace, not because of the person's merit. This, too, is justice.
Since Micah has already foretold God's judgment, I think Micah is asking for the second sort of justice from us. Judgment has its place in this world, the place where Yhwh put it in Israel: in the rules of the community. But in our personal lives, Micah calls for a different sort of justice, the kind where we aren't judging and condemning, where we aren't acting based on anyone's sins against us or God. Rather, doing justice is doing justice based on the righteousness of God: loving people, serving them, letting them serve us, and letting them serve with us. When it comes to justice, no person's sins matter. The love of God matters.
Kindness (hesed)
And so we will seek to do justice, and we will do it, because of the second command, because we "love kindness." The Hebrew word "kindness," like the Hebrew word "justice," is a word that often appears in the Israelite faith and religion. Whereas "justice" addresses our relationship to the world around us, "kindness" addresses our feelings and response to God. The word evokes consistent actions from consistent feelings. To better understand it, we can see it in context in Micah 7:18: "Who is a God like you, who pardons iniquity and passes over the rebellious act of the remnant of his possession? He does not retain his anger forever, because he delights in unchanging love." Here "unchanging love" is that same word elsewhere translated as "kindness." It is this "kindness" or "unchanging love" that we are supposed to love.
We are supposed to love it, because God delights in it. It is this sort of unchanging love through which we understand God's relation to creation. This "unchanging love" is the reason for Genesis 1:1: "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth." It is the reason for the incarnation: "for God so loved the world." It is the reason God interacts with all of creation and the reason that even the earth groans for salvation, as Paul says.
If we love kindness, love God's kindness, love God's unchanging love that inspires God to continually descend to creation and redeem it, then we will want to do justice to all, to every Adam and to every Eve, to everything created by God. When we love this "kindness" and do this "justice," they will become more than our actions and our affections, they will be who we are.
Live Humbly with Your God (halak)
It is difficult to inspire ourselves to love something. So, Micah offers us a little tip: "walk humbly with your God." Walking--or for those who cannot walk, traveling--is a metaphor for life and another word familiar to the Israelite religion. In Deuteronomy, Moses asks the people "to love the LORD your God, and to walk in [God's] ways always." Micah builds upon this metaphor, not just saying we should live and walk in God's ways, but to live and walk humbly with our God. Traveling and living with someone indicates intimacy. As we begin to know our God better, we will begin to recognize God's image where we see it. We will begin to recognize the image of God in others. And if we love our God, we will love others and delight in kindness towards them, in doing justice.
There it is, church. There is the crux of this passage and why Micah can stop at this command and move on to something else.
You see, humility in traveling means recognizing you're not the only one traveling. On an airplane, it could mean considering the person behind you before putting your seat back. On a bus or train, it might mean offering your seat to someone who might need it more. While traveling through life, humility begins by recognizing God travels with us. But it isn't just "me and God." It isn't just my family and God, my church and God, the Church and God, my country and God, or all people and God. Life is a journey all creation travels together. And God's image is everywhere on that journey and everywhere in creation. If we love God, then in humility we recognize that God's "unchanging love" is everywhere and we will want to do justice to all.
As it turns out, the only way to live and walk humbly with our God is to love kindness and to do justice. Centuries later, Jesus will say essentially the same thing when stating the two greatest commandments: we love God by loving our neighbor. We delight in God by delighting in what God delights: justice and kindness.
Loving your neighbor is the way you love God. Doing justice and loving mercy is the way to walk humbly with your God. And although I still encourage you to look at this passage for yourself, don't forget that doing justice and loving mercy isn't just reading, studying, and praying, which are ways to deal with religious sins.. Like Micah's audience, we need to examine our sins against God. But we also need to examine our sins against God's creation and all that is in it: our neighbors. Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness are God-given rights, and many of the luxuries we enjoy today stand in the way of other people's lives, liberties, pursuit of happiness, and pursuit of God.
Remember, our situation isn't too unlike Micah's. So as we leave the sanctity of this place and enter the sanctity of the world around us, let us seek justice to do, kindness to love, and our God, with whom we can walk humbly. Otherwise, we might soon be asked to plead our own case before the mountains.
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