Revised Common Lectionary Readings: Psalm 1, John 17:6-19, 1 John 5:9-13 [Acts 1:15-26]
Walter Wink died a week and a half ago. He was a biblical scholar and theologian, and Professor of Biblical Interpretation [at Auburn Theological Seminary] in New York City. He was also an activist, an outspoken leader against the Vietnam war in the 60s, and then in the 80s, with his books banned in South Africa, he managed to do Biblical non-violent resistance workshops with Christian anti-apartheid leaders in Lesotho, for which he deported.
Wink was best known for his Trilogy on the principalities and powers, and their contemporary meaning: “Naming the Powers”, “Unmasking the Powers”, and “Engaging the Powers”. He coined the phrase “the myth of redemptive violence” – that myth still so prevalent in movies, video games, and indeed, in society in general. This myth refers to that archetypal belief that violence can redeem, or make better, situations where evil aggression or oppression have the upper hand. Any action / adventure show you see is chock full of the myth of redemptive violence. Take The Avengers, for example. This super hero movie premiered just five weeks ago, but has already set numerous box office records, including the biggest opening weekend ever in North America, and the fastest to gross $1 billion worldwide. One billion dollars! I will confess that my family helped it have the biggest opening weekend in North America.
The basic plot of the movie is this: the earth is under attack by the super villain Loki and his army. Now, Loki is from another world and is the adoptive brother and archenemy of Thor, the god of Norse mythology, and hero of a movie from last year of that name. To defeat Loki, a team of super humans is formed – called “The Avengers” – to save the Earth. Against all odds and with superhuman endurance and spectacular violence – both in defense and in offense – the avengers are able to repel Loki and save the earth. Peace is saved!
That’s redemptive violence. It’s violence by those on the right side – the good guys – who against all odds beat their superior enemy who threatens the peaceful existence of innocent people. Somehow, miraculously, the violence of the good guys restores peace and redeems all from evil, saving all from destruction, subjugation and death.
But it’s a terrible lie. It’s the myth of redemptive violence, as Walter Wink called it. And it’s not only in movies. US President Bush’s belief in the myth of redemptive violence led him to war against Iraq whom he labeled part of his so-called Axis of Evil. The myth of redemptive violence has also been foundational to the Canadian military’s aggressive war in Afghanistan against the Taliban. And most recently, the myth of redemptive violence led President Obama to order the assassination of Osama bin Laden.
Walter Wink, however, powerfully reminded us that violence does NOT redeem, but simply makes more violence; it continues the vicious circle of violence. Of course, a minority of Christians knew that already centuries ago, as they listened to Jesus’ teachings “love your enemies” and “put away your sword, for all who live by the sword, will die by the sword.”
Walter Wink was also known for his engagement with churches’ understanding of homosexuality. Already in the 1970s, Wink exegeted and unpacked biblical texts on homosexuality; he carefully placed them in their larger context of biblical theology and history, and made a biblical case for welcoming and affirming. He sought to break down boundaries and exclusion. But in doing so, he didn’t shy away from the difficult Biblical texts. None of them.
Walter Wink died on the day I first looked at the lectionary passages for today. My first thought on reading them, I will confess, was “nope, sure not going to preach a sermon on these. There’s nothing there I’d want to focus on.” The Righteous versus the Wicked. God’s people versus the World. These are passages I simply wouldn’t quickly choose to preach on. However, in the spirit of Walter Wink, who didn’t shy away from uncomfortable or obscure passages, I decided to accept the challenge of doing just that.
This week’s lectionary passages are filled with what appear to be stark contrasts between “us” and “them”. The Righteous versus the Wicked. God’s people versus the World. There’s no doubt in my mind that it’s precisely this kind of thinking and language that leads to exclusion and boundaries, and then violence. But is that “us” versus “them” really what the texts are saying? Are they really setting up boundaries in order to exclude others, and to make them enemies? Perhaps we need to dig deeper. Let’s start by looking at Psalm 1.
I really liked Psalms as a child. That’s because I could find it a split second. Just take my bible like this, put it up on end, stick my thumbnail in the exact middle, and “wa la” viola! Psalms! … All 150 of them. A wonderful collection of hymns and laments that was and is considered a rich fountain of divine instruction. And Psalm 1, our lectionary text this morning, is presented both as an introduction and a guide to the whole collection.
“Happy are those whose … delight is in the law of the Lord.” Their delight is in the Law of the Lord.
Thus begins the book of Psalms – with a burst of joy and rejoicing in the Law. The Law. Really? The Law? The Old Testament Law – especially Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy – has often been understood and viewed as obscure, all-encompassing rules through which salvation could barely be gained, if at all. Besides, Jesus came to do away with the law, right? For the Law’s zillion rules were impossible to live by and simply unable to provide salvation.
Not so for the Israelite people. Their beloved Law was embraced as a precious gift from Yahweh, it defined their identity, and living by it gave boundless joy. I’ll say that again: the Law was profoundly cherished, it defined the Israelites as a people, and living by it gave them much joy. The Law was, in short, the Way of the Lord, and those who live by it are like trees planted by streams of water. Like Jesus’ teachings, like the Sermon on the Mount, for us Mennonites.
The first three verses make clear that there is to be no association with the wicked but rather complete devotion to the Law, the Torah:
Happy are those who do not follow the advice of the wicked, or take the path that sinners tread,
or sit in the seat of scoffers; but their delight is in the law of the LORD, and on his law they
meditate day and night. They are like trees planted by streams of water, which yield their fruit in
its season, and their leaves do not wither. In all that they do, they prosper.
The Law is the stream of water feeding, nourishing the followers like trees who yield their fruit and never wither. In contrast, the wicked are in verses 4-5 like worthless, insubstantial chaff. The wicked are chaff while the righteous are flourishing trees. Then the last verse brings righteous and wicked together for a final über-sharp contrast: for the LORD watches over the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked will perish.
Essentially, this Psalm, in introducing the 149 that follow, is establishing identity boundaries. It’s stating in glorious terms two groups of people: those who live by Yahweh’s Law and those who don’t know or live by the Law. So by definition those who don’t live by the law are “wicked” and will perish, because, for the Israelites, there simply was no life outside of the Law. However, this stark dualism, this “us versus them” language does not reflect a desire for exclusion, it’s not meant to keep others out, but rather it’s a description of their reality – of their faith and life. The Law defined them as followers of the Way of Yahweh. “The Wicked”, then, was a category for those outside the law, for non-Israelites, and that they will perish was not a curse, but a statement of their foundational belief that only the Law provided abundant life.
Similarly in the Gospel of John. Ah, the Gospel of John, long understood as either refreshingly simple or impossibly obscure and complex. How do we understand, for example, words such as these from Jesus’ prayer for his disciples: “I have given them your word, and the world has hated them because they do not belong to the world, just as I do not belong to the world”?
In Psalm 1 it was the Righteous vs. the Wicked. Now here in John, it’s Christ’s followers versus the world who hates them. How do we understand this stark dualism?
Well, John’s gospel was written at a very tense time. About twenty years before, the Romans had destroyed the Jews’ beloved temple; indeed, all of Jerusalem was destroyed. Jerusalem and the glorious temple had been the epicentre of Jewish faith and practice. But now, that faith and practice had to scatter and reconfigure. Outlying synagogues could no longer look to their centre in Jerusalem.
And in one of those Jewish synagogues, there was a group of Jews who came to believe that Jesus was the messiah. They maintained their Jewish identity and continued to worship in their synagogue. Apparently with time, these Jewish believers in Jesus began to proselytise the others in their synagogue. However, their beliefs were rejected and eventually they were ἀποσυνάγωγος (apo sinagoga) – they were put out of the synagogue, excommunicated, rejected and shunned by their own people. Apo sinagoga.
And thus, it was out of this community of ἀποσυνάγωγος Jewish followers of Christ that the Gospel of John emerged. With their synagogue rejecting them, this [Johannine] community, turned inward and bitterly began to develop stark anti-Jewish language. It was also during this time they developed their very elevated understanding of Jesus as an equal with God, having existed eternally with God. Their blunt anti-Jewish language grew out of their need to protect themselves, defend themselves, and begin to establish a new identity. The synagogue thus became their arch-enemy. And their forced new identity as Jesus followers OUTSIDE the synagogue was framed in very stark terms, over and against the Jewish synagogue. Sharp boundaries. Us and them.
So, to understand John’s Gospel and its exclusionary language of us versus them, we must recognise the specific experiences of the community that that Gospel grew out of. With this background, let’s look again at our Gospel text, remembering that “the world” who hated and rejected Jesus’ followers was the specific synagogue that they had been apo sinagoga – that they had been expelled from.
John 17.6-19 is part of Christ’s High Priestly Prayer. In it, Jesus prays for his disciples who are in a hostile “world”. The disciples know the truth, he prays, yet need protection as they are among those who hate them. They are alienated from the “world”. Their conflict with the synagogue authorities convinced them that the “world” hated them and that Jesus also no longer belonged to the “world”.
These were Jews who were deeply convinced that Jesus was the way, the truth and the life. Their Jewish sisters and brothers, who did not agree and who had rejected them, became the hateful world. The Righteous vs. the Wicked.
This dichotomy – Christ followers versus the world – is even more pronounced in the Epistle for that community, First John. This epistle was written to counter Docetism, the belief of a number of early Christian groups that Jesus Christ was a spirit, not a physical human being.
So with the Jews who kicked them out of the synagogue assailing on the left, and the docetists on the right saying that Christ was a phantom or an apparition, the teachers of the Johannine community wrote, in today’s epistle text, 1 John 5.9-13:
Those who believe in the Son of God have the testimony in their hearts. Those who do not believe in God have made him a liar by not believing in the testimony that God has given concerning his Son. And this is the testimony: God gave us eternal life, and this life is in his Son. Whoever has the Son has life; whoever does not have the Son of God does not have life. I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God, so that you may know that you have eternal life.
Whoever has the Son has life; whoever does not have the Son of God does not have life. … The Righteous vs. the Wicked. God’s people vs. the World. Have the Son, have life; no Son, no life. Us and them. Boundaries. Harsh ones.
Yet the fundamental theme, the core concern in all three passages is a deep desire to follow “The Way”, be that “Way” the Law of the Lord or the Truth of Christ, and to follow joyfully. Joyfully, because the Way is so life-giving. The Law of the Lord and the Truth of Christ defined their identity. And for them in their specific contexts, their identities required clear, even stark, boundaries. Yet, that separation from others, those blunt boundaries are descriptive rather than exclusive. They’re meant to declare identity, not keep others out, nor to damn others. And that “us versus them” language is indicative of their time, their world view, and their immediate experience. Indeed, it reflects the boundaries they felt they needed to establish, sometimes harshly, in order to always keep seeking to remain faithful to the Way. So those outside the Law, those in the “World”, those not of “the Way”, are not inherently evil or wicked or lost. Rather these are declarations of their foundational belief that only the Law or Jesus Christ provides abundant life.
Boundaries. Identity. Followers of the Way.
In 1552, 460 years ago, our forebear Menno Simons penned the song “we are people of God’s peace”; we sang it again this morning, and it is very appropriate that we sing this song frequently as it’s an identity song for us:
We are children of God’s peace in this new creation,
Spreading joy and happiness, through God’s great salvation.
Hope we bring in spirit meek, in our daily living,
Peace with everyone we seek, good for evil giving.
We are people of God’s peace. That’s not a boundary to keep others out, to exclude, but rather to declare our identity. We are people of Christ’s peace. Walter Wink’s life work witnesses to
our clear identity as followers of a non-violent Jesus who calls us to actively oppose violence and injustice in society, to challenge the powers that oppress. Wink also challenged all Christians to declare the idea of redemptive violence, that pervasive idea that violence can make things better, to declare it for what it is – a monstrous lie that separates “us and them”, a separation that’s not for core identity purposes as in our lectionary texts today, but rather whose purpose is to dominate or defeat, condemn or subjugate. And as we have seen, that’s not the message of our Biblical passages this morning. Wink also strove to dismantle boundaries that excluded people due to their sexual orientation. All peoples can be followers of “The Way”. And we here at TUMC have our arms open to welcome all who want to join us on The Way.
Rest in Peace, Walter Wink. Amen.