A Crooked Piece of Time
“These are consequential times.”
Those are the first words in the forward of my new book, Living with Hope. At that time, we were just into the Russia-Ukraine war, Donald Trump was early into his morass of court proceedings, COVID was beginning to fade, and we were seeing a dozen or fewer people in our sanctuary on Sunday.
These are consequential times, I can say again. Now, we have war in the Middle East, Congress is paralyzed, natural disasters continue to haunt the globe, and religion continues its dramatic decline in these United States.
All of this makes a John Prine song so relevant. “It is a crooked piece of time.”
We, here at Providence, are stronger and more certain of our future as a strong voice for the gospel.
I want to draw inspiration today from the powerful letter Paul wrote to the churches of Ephesus. Six chapters and three themes have long given interpreters a simple outline: sit, walk, and stand.
Maybe this will help us as individuals, as a congregation, as a nation, and as a global human community: together we will sit straight, together we will walk straight, and together we will stand straight in this crooked piece of time.
And we will do so singing for joy and living with hope!
I.
Eight days ago, Jews around the world were celebrating Simchat Torah. This is an annual celebration after Yom Kippur. The Hebrew words mean “The Joy of the Law.” It is a feast of joy, dancing, singing, and rejoicing. They celebrate the Word of the Lord, the Law of the Lord, what is called in Hebrew, the Torah.
On this holy day, the Jews of Israel were attacked by their enemies, Hamas. Hamas is a Palestinian organization that rules the 2.4 million people packed into Gaza. These Palestinians are refugees; they live in a ghetto; they have few freedoms and many restrictions. Inside their country, Hamas rules; around the country, Israel rules. They are victims, doubly so, of the lust for power. Israel wants power to survive her enemies; Hamas wants power to destroy Israel. It is a recipe for disaster, which is exactly what was delivered eight days ago.
My soul weeps for Israeli Jews, slaughtered by the hundreds. My soul weeps for Gazan Palestinians. Their country is being bombed into nothing, and hundreds of their people are being killed. It is a disaster in every direction.
On Friday night of this week, I attended a Jewish sabbath service at temple beth Tefilla, on St. Simons Island. The rabbi is Rachael Bregman, a friend of mine. She issued a call for people to gather with them to pray. 300 people showed up to support a Jewish congregation about the size of ours. The prayer meeting was moved one block to the Episcopal Church. I sat on the 7th pew from the front, with two ladies from Temple Tefilla. Prayers were read in Hebrew and English; songs were sung mostly by using video recordings, including the song One Day:
All my life I’ve been waiting for, I’ve been praying for
The people to say
That we don’t wanna fight no more, there’ll be no more wars,
and our children will play.
One day, One Day One day.
It is a Jewish song; it is a Muslim song; it is a Christian song; it is a human song. It is a human prayer.
Rabbi Rachael was not there; she has the COVID. She video recorded a message for us. She described the anxiety of people all over the world. Already, one war in Europe is capable of exploding into a global conflict. Now, another war, in the Middle East poses a danger, not just to nations but also to individuals.
“I drove to the temple with my 8-year-old daughter,” the rabbi said. “I pulled into my parking spot, the one with the sign that reads, Parking for the Rabbi. But my daughter said, ‘Mom, you can’t park here. It is too dangerous.’”
We all need a safe place. We need a safe place to live, to work, to worship, to park. Too many places in the world today are not safe. Too many prejudiced people. Too many guns. Too much anger. Too much violence. Today in the Middle East, the vicious attack of a few has made unsafe the lives of the many.
God protect Israel; God protect Gaza. One day. One day. One day.
II.
For solace, for comfort, for direction as a preacher, I was inspired to turn to the Letter to the Ephesians by Reggie and his choice of songs. I read through the lyrics on Thursday. It is a call to stand, especially when times are tough, and danger surrounds us. I immediately thought of Paul’s Letter to the Ephesians.
Many pastors have used the simple outline: sit, walk, stand.
In chapter two, Paul writes: “God is rich in mercy. God loved us so much that even though we were dead in our sins, God gave us life when God raised Jesus from the dead. For God raised us from the dead along with Christ and seated us with Christ in the heavenly realms because we are untied with Christ.”
We are seated with Christ in heavenly places. Which is another way of saying, where Christ Jesus is, we are. What God did for Jesus—raised him from the dead—God has done for us. All of us. We have been raised with Christ and seated with Christ in the heavenly places. In a time of trauma and death, God acted on our behalf. That is a summary of the “sit” part of the gospel in Ephesians.
In chapter four, Paul writes: “I, a prisoner for the Lord, beg you to lead a life worthy of your calling, for you have been called by God.” All the modern versions translate the verb as “live.” That is not wrong, but the word actually is “walk”—as in, walk right, walk straight, walk worthy. Those of you who grew up on the King James Bible recognize this language: “I urge you to walk worthy of your calling.”
How are we to walk?
Stop telling lies, verse 25. Don’t let anger control you. verse 26. Quit stealing. verse 28. Don’t use foul language. verse 29. Get rid of bitterness, rage, anger, slander. verse 31. “Instead, be kind to each other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another.”
This is what it means to “walk worthy of your calling” from God. But these are not specifically Christian virtues. They are Jewish virtues, they are Muslim virtues, they are human virtues. We are to walk as people, as humans, as members of the human race. That is the “walk” part of the sit-walk-stand outline of Ephesians.
Now comes “stand”. You will find it in chapter six, verse 10. “A final word: be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on all of God’s armor so that you will be able to stand against all the strategies of the devil…. Resist the enemy in the time of evil, then after the battle you will still be standing. Stand your ground…”
Four times, the word “stand” is used. It is a way of saying, Persevere! Endure the danger. Fight the fight. Be strong!
I do not like the imagery of war, the metaphor of battle. It disturbs me especially as we watch the wars around the world, as we seek and pray for peace. I don’t like thinking about battles and wars and survival. But we can find help for these consequential days, even with the language of warfare.
III.
Sit. Walk. Stand. We are raised and seated with Christ. We are to walk worthy of our calling. We are to be strong so we might be found standing. Here is my message for today, the answer to this question: Who is the “we”?
We are seated with Christ. We are to walk worthy. We are to stand firm. Who is the “we”?
There are two answers. The dominant answer in the world and in religion is this: there is them and there is us. They are the wicked, we are the righteous. They are the lost, we are the saved. They are the damned, we are the elect. They are the sinners, we are the saints, they are the faithless, we are the faithful.
This division of the human race into “us and them” runs all the way around the globe. It is north versus south. It is east versus west. It is Christian versus Muslim. It is Russian versus Ukrainian. It is the black versus the white. It is the rich against the poor. It is the capitalist over against the communist.
What other category do you want to name?
Sadly, this division of the human race runs all the way through the Bible, through Judaism, and Christianity, and Islam. It is the dominant way of looking at the world. Us versus them. Jew versus Gentile. Elect verses non-elect.
Even the gospel has been used in this way. The good news of Jesus has been used to create a new division of people: the believer and the unbeliever, the lost and the saved, the baptized and the unbaptized. But is this right? is this the gospel?
Listen to this wonderful summary of the gospel, chapter two and verses 19-22: “Now you Gentiles are no longer strangers and foreigners. You are citizens along with all of God’s holy people. You are members of God’s family. Together, we are his house, built upon the foundation of apostles and prophets. The cornerstone is Christ Jesus himself. We are carefully joined together in Christ, becoming a holy temple for the Lord. Through Christ, you Gentiles are also being made part of this dwelling where God lives by God’s spirit.”
The gospel of God is the end of this perpetual division of people into us and them. There is no them; there is only we. There is no outsider; there is only the insiders. There is no division of the whole human race. There is only one human family.
Listen to this earlier statement by Paul the apostle, chapter two, verses 14 through 18: “Christ himself has brought peace to us. He united Jews and Gentiles into one people. In his own body on the cross, Jesus Christ broke down the wall of hostility that separated us from them. He made peace between Jews and Gentiles by creating in himself one new people from the to groups. Together as one body, Christ reconciled both groups to God by means of his death on the cross. Our hostility toward each other was put to death.”
We are all together the people of God. We are one human race. God’s spirit lives in all of us, lives among all of us, lives through all of us.
God created all of us. All of us have sinned. God loves all of us. Christ died for all of us. God raised up all of us and seated all of us with Christ in the heavenly places. We are all—all of us—of every language, tribe, nation, and religion—to walk worthy of the calling and dignity we have from God. We are to stand against all that denies and destroys this unity.
This is what I think when I watch the horrors of Gaza and Israel.
I did not think this 50 years ago. I did not have this vision of gospel inclusion 50 years ago when I was living in Jerusalem. I did not have this understanding on Yom Kippur 1973, when I strolled on our veranda high on Mt. Zion and watched the jets fly overhead and the tanks roll through the city. I watched it all, thinking of them and us.
But now, I understand. My heart weeps for Israelis who fear their neighbors. My soul weeps for Palestinians who hate their neighbors. My spirit cries out to God, One Day, One Day, One Day, we shall all live in peace. I pray for that in this crooked piece of time.
