In Community - Interpreting the World and our Faith

Hermeneutics are the disciplines of interpretation, especially of sacred texts. The hermeneutic or interpretive responsibility I was taught encourages a collective discernment of what we are called to be and do for such a time as this. The basic way we do this is by simultaneously holding, perhaps literally and certainly figuratively, the Holy Scriptures in the one hand, and the newspaper in the other (Karl Barth). In that process of interpretation of our social context, the sacred texts of our faith, and the challenges we are facing as active members of our body politic, we also bring our opinions and feelings. There is, simply, no way around it.

I also ask that we continue to remain intentional and committed to this sabbatical journey, identifying the things and experiences we must release, receive, and return to. And I ask that we do so intentional and committedly because interpretation, hermeneutics, requires intention. For us to develop and practice disciplines of discernment and interpretation about what our faith compels us to be and do with and for the world, we must also commit to relationship for and with one another. A good life of faith is not the fulfillment of requirements. I think it would be right up St. Paul’s alley to say that attempt checking of a list to prove faithfulness will only reveal out shortcomings.

Please, bear with the following redundancy – to life a faithful life of faith one must commit to relationship, empathy, engagement, presence, listening. Many of us who have been Christians for many decades will have heard multiple sermons about the Good Samaritan. That parable, however, is just that. A parable. An object for the larger narrative of St. Luke’s account of the Gospel. The subject of the story is the lawyer who, after having heard about how Jesus sent 70 to places, he wanted to visit to share good news of peace and of the kingdom of heaven drawn near, asked Jesus about eternal life. Jesus’ response, in the form of two other questions, are fascinating. He first asks what is written in the law. And then he asks, “what do you read there?” Do you see what happens there? Jesus places the Holy Scriptures as the central reference for the response, AND he also brings in the often overseen and always inevitable reality, it is I who reads. And reading, as in any other discipline of learning, is never objective. Whether we realize it or not, we bring our full selves – including our contexts, our experiences, and our biases into the reading of the Holy Scriptures and our discernment of our witness. What I think Jesus does here is, both, recognize and invite us to bring our full selves – biases, experiences, and contexts – into the pursuit of the question about a faithful living of the faith.

The lesson tells us that the lawyer wanted to make things a bit more complicated, perhaps event get into the rhetorical or debate game. He asked Jesus who was his neighbor whom he was to love as himself. I leave the response of Jesus to your reading as found in the rest of the gospel lesson. I do want to say something about the term “neighbor” as it relates to our call today to discern our witness and interpret our faith. In Spanish the word for neighbor is “prójimo”. A transliteration of the term could be “proximate”. I think that the challenge Jesus wanted to give the lawyer of the lesson was a challenge in hermeneutics and engagement.

We should understand that we can release ourselves from the burden to achieve eternal life, and allow for us the opportunity to live. That we can live by embracing the challenge and the opportunity of interpreting the world and our faith, and to do so intentionally in community. And I think that is where “neighbor” comes in. We will be better served in our pursuit to live and to live abundantly by receiving our proximate. If interpreting our times and our faith is a discipline to be engaged in community, we must begin with those who are more approximate to us, our neighbors. We begin with and among ourselves. And think about it: As we engage with each other as our proximate, we each have proximates outside this community that each one of us will be compelled to engage in. And as we continue to live up to our interpretative and discerning call and challenge, we will have a bigger community to live out our faith and to pursue it faithfully and wholeheartedly.

May it be so. Amen.

Latin American Identity

Latin American Identity - Challenge and Opportunity

A lecture shared at Russel Sage College as part of their Critical Conversations series,
and in celebration of Hispanic/Latine Heritage Month in October of 2022

The history of persons of Latin American descent in the United States is, of course, longer than the 50 years or so of Hispanic Heritage Month. On the European tell-all, it would take some 100 years after the first Spanish colony in the Western Hemisphere for the British to do likewise. Perhaps a more fascinating area of research is one seeking to ascertain that indigenous peoples of North and Central America had a deeper network and connection than thought before. Agricultural and human-made products from civilization in Central Mexico have been found across the Great Plains of North America, and even further east. Corn, which is ubiquitous in our region, a part of the lore of how the purported first Thanksgiving happened, and an integral component to the originating stories of some of the peoples that integrated the Haudenosaunee Confederacy is a domesticated agricultural product of the Mexican southwest.

Today we gather to commemorate the historic and contemporary presence of Latin Americans in the United States. Like me, those who self-identify as Hispanic or Latine make up 6.6% of Albany County (where I live), 5.4% of Rensselaer County, and 9.8% in Troy (where we gather), and 7.8% in Schenectady County (where I serve). That is about 40,000 Latine individuals in the tri-county area. I moved from Central New Jersey to the Capital Region 5 years ago. One of the aspects of social and political engagement in the greater capital area and of Upstate NY is the apparent small visibility of people of Latin American descent. Of course, in the Central Jersey communities where I lived, the Latine population was between 20 and 35% of the population of a densely populated region. But that apparent lack of visibility should sway no one of our presence in this community.

For me, the two anecdotal, purely unscientific markers of a more permanent Latin American community are the growth of restaurants that cater consistent and financially accessible regional cuisine, and the establishment of communities of faith. The latter is, perhaps, because I am a Christian minister. In the three counties mentioned above, there is a growing presence of Latine Christian communities, mostly in the Roman Catholic and Pentecostal traditions. There is also a relatively small lucumí or santería community. Although I don’t have anecdotal data, I would not be surprised to learn that there is a significant Latine presence in Mormon and Muslim communities. I have also had the experience of multiethnic families who are also seeking to facilitate a multi-religious experience for their children. The most recent encounter is a family that just moved from downstate. I met them at one of our local Reform synagogues for the celebration of Rosh Hashanah because Mom is Jewish. They contacted me after services to because they wanted a reference for a Roman Catholic church, hopefully, one that worshipped in Spanish.

On the restaurant side of things, I have been much surprised. In the almost 6 years since moving to the Capital Region, I have found in the tri-county area Mexican, Spanish Caribbean, Venezuelan, Colombian, Peruvian, and Guatemalan restaurants operated by persons from said regions and countries. Now, cuisine, much as culture, is not a national thing. Although national and nationalistic metanarratives exist, these metanarratives cannot contain the expression of culture. Same with cuisine. There is no such thing as Mexican food. The millennial history of food in Mexico has provided the world with a cultural and historic heritage that is as vast and diverse as the country itself. In the Capital Region, you can find Mexican food prepared and served in the tradition of Puebla, in Central Mexico, and Oaxaca, in southern Mexico. The Colombian food I have found is typical of that of the highlands. The Venezuelan cuisine is typical of Caracas, and the Guatemalan and Peruvian food I have experienced is a typical street food you’ll find in a major city of each country.

As for the Spanish Caribbean, some will say rice and beans are rice and beans. But if you are from the Antilles, no matter the language spoken on your island, you know that habichuelas in Puerto Rico are not quite the same as in the Dominican Republic. And what is more, in Cuba they may not even understand what a habichuela is. Frijoles might be what you are seeking. However, both because of migration and the shared histories of these Antillean countries, we have come to understand, by and large, what any one of us is ordering (and perhaps yearning) – stewed pink beans for Puerto Ricans, candied red beans for Dominicans, and black beans stewed with cumin for Cubans. What is more, we have come to find comfort in each other’s cuisine. A la postre, after all, we are far more intertwined – culturally, historically, and dare I say politically – than the imperial powers that want us to know, understand, and embrace.

It is that intertwined historical, political, and cultural traits that make the ser latinoamericano, the Latin American a complex being, fascinating (if I may say so myself), and challenging. Where white supremacy has encouraged the formation of nationalist narratives of superiority based on violence, capitalism, and empire, Latin American leaders of thought, art, and freedom have articulated a somewhat loose yet powerful identity of the land and its inhabitants as the Patria Grande, the Greater Motherland. This idea of América Latina as the Patria Grande is in contrast and a clear challenge to the colonializing teaching that Spain is the Madre Patria, the Mother Homeland. The central problem of the Madre Patria concept is that it affirms that Spain is the parent and fundamental ancestor of all that resulted from its 400-year history of violent evangelization, pillage, and genocide. The concept of the Patria Grande, I think, is an affirmation and a holding in the tension of the multifaceted (and sometimes seemingly contradictory) realities of Latin Americans. There are two concepts I want to propose to you for our conversation: Raza Cósmica and Boderland/Fronteras.

José Vasconcelos Calderón was a Mexican politician, educator, and philosopher of the early 20th century. In 1925 he published an essay, La Raza Cósmica, The Cosmic Race. Challenging Charles Darwin’s scientific theories as excuses for racial superiority and repression, he articulates a more ideological concept of Latin America as the incubator of a race made up of the intermingling and mixing of all human races, the raza cósmica, a race that has ushered the age of a new civilization – the Universópolis. I will caution you: this is a man writing in the 1920s. Whether you read it in Spanish or a translation, some of his language will be objectionable to our late 20th and early 21st-century understanding. However, Vasconcelos’ proposal had a radical impact on the Mexican and Latin American social and political imagination of the 20th century, an impact Latin Americans continue to grapple with as a challenge and an opportunity.

The two major challenges of Vasconcelos’ proposal are diversity and solidarity. In speaking of a completely mixed race, Vasconcelos was not naïve. I believe his argument was not about an issue of equality in the mix, but one of equity in considering what each one of us and our origins bring to the constant formation of a larger body politic. The difference, of course, between equality and equity is that of quantity and quality. The challenge and opportunity of diversity are to seize it as an opportunity to improve and deepen quality that leads to a robust, resilient experience of life that can truly move an individual and whole community from the oppression of survival to the beauty of living and being. And this move from survival to living can only be sustained if diversity and equity are met by solidarity and inclusion. (Now, this is me interpreting Vasconcelos interpreting Darwin) in nature’s engagement and in human politics, the aim should never be to tolerate. Toleration is a lazy social norm. As it relates to human interaction and engagement, especially if we believe political posturing like “all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights.” Competition, such as proposed in Darwinism and Capitalism, will intend for the elimination of many for the survival of some. The raza cósmica can only survive from an intentional care for each other and the environment, a true altruism. Inclusion is not to tolerate. Solidarity opens the spaces for diversity to emerge and become apparent.

That difference between tolerance and inclusion, and the invitation of solidarity (again, my interpretation of Vasconcelos) leads me to the other concept of Borderland/Frontera. Gloria Anzaldúa, a Chicana scholar from Texas, published her somewhat autobiographical and most impactful book, “Borderlands/La Frontera: The New Mestiza” in 1987. The fifth edition as printed in March of this year. I first encountered Anzaldúa in seminary, taking courses of religion and society. By the last third of the 20th century, North American and Western European theological education – especially that of the Protestant and Roman Catholic traditions – found itself in an identity crisis of lagging behind the swift secularization of society. The main crisis point was that organized religion, especially the Western Christian kind, was not the social center for moral and ethical leadership. Gloria Anzaldúa’s pointed criticism to colonialism and heteronormativity came with a very intentional social and spirituality. The latter made the methodologies and proposals of her book (and scholarship) essential to the liberal and progressive Christian thinkers and practitioners in their pursuit of a relevant presence.

The two main concepts from her scholarship that I want to highlight are borderlands and neplantismo. As she explains it, the borderlands are not simply spaces for forced encounters and differentiation. They are also a social, cultural (and even spiritual) space with their traits. She materializes that borderland identity in her intentionally confusing way in which she mixes English and Spanish in her book. It’s not simply about bringing words or expressions that are relevant to how she constructs her methods and arguments. In and of itself, it is a way to have her audience experience life in and of the borderlands. I believe her argument, in short, is that the vida fronteriza is a social, political, and cultural reality of those who live in political borders, and of those who are found on another side of what society has dubbed as the norm, most likely white, male, heteronormative, and Christian. Borderland/La Frontera: The New Mestiza is a somewhat autobiographical book because Anzaldúa uses her own life as, both, a method and example of living in such political and social borders. She unapologetically brings herself to bear as a Chicana, feminist, and queer person who practices those identities in her scholarship.

Nepantlismo is the other concept she coins. With nepantlismo, Anzaldúa articulates her life experience and that of other people, especially women, who stand in the middle of multiple experiences and identities. The word “nepantla” is a Naualt term that means in the middle. For Anzaldúa, there are many people who, living in multiple borders, are at once standing in multiple borders. What I find fascinating about the concept is that this middle is not a center. This middle is an intersection of multiple identities and experiences, often conflicting. The people who live in this middle (she calls them “nepantleras”) refuse to identify one way or another their inhabited intersection pushes or pulls them to. That embrace of the multiple and conflicting identities provides for a certain kind of power that may well describe the multiple and often conflicting identities and stories of the Latin American being.

Food is a Right

Food is a right
Remarks to the People’s State of the State 2024
Alliance for a Hunger-Free New York

Schenectady Community Ministries serves Schenectady County (NY) residents with a commitment to procure F high-quality, culturally affirming, reliable, and accessible food for anyone who expresses a need for food. There should be no doubt about it – food should be considered a human right. Survey after survey shows that the top three concerns of individuals and families who live in conditions of poverty are access to reliable and safe housing, high-quality healthcare – mental and physical, and food. Over 60% of the people we serve in Schenectady County are children, youth, and senior citizens.

In her State of the State address, Governor Hochul proposed ideas for housing and mental health care. There was no mention of food in her address. We stand here to remind Governor Hochul, and members of the State Assembly and Senate, that without a robust food relief strategy that brings the State’s Health, Agriculture, and Budget leaders together with community-based food relief organizations, the mistakes of the 2023 five-year HPNAP contracting process will remain.

Many food relief organizations for years (some even decades) have faithfully served their communities with essential support from the state through the Hunger Prevention and Nutrition Assistance Program (HPNAP) and most recently through Nourish New York. The 2023 five-year contracting process with the NYS Department of Health left many local organizations with reduced financial support. Some didn’t even get a contract. Not only did Schenectady Community Ministries lose 30% of its combined HPNAP and Nourish New York allocation compared to 2022, but the five-year contract we got was only from Nourish New York. That profoundly hampers the community of Schenectady from acquiring less costly food products from the USDA.

Even when we were able to get a significant one-year contract through our Regional Food Bank, the operational cost support food relief organizations like ours received from a five-year direct contract with HPNAP is gone. Volunteers who serve food relief organizations, simply put, are essential to our ability to provide reliable access to food to our communities. However, the ability to hire folks who are from and committed to the communities we serve to provide professional and supportive services, and to cover basic energy, transportation, and operational costs ought to be an essential consideration in the State budget and the contracting process. Community-based organizations should have all the resources needed because we, at the community level, have the relational capacity to respond more readily to the hopes, aspirations, and expectations of our communities.

For Schenectady Community Ministries, 2023 saw a 40% increase in visits to our pantry, and a 30% increase in our food output. This is in a county with over 70% of SNAP and WIC-eligible individuals and households receiving those benefits. These increases do not count our commitment to partner with smaller food pantries in Schenectady, and with regional coalitions like the Food Pantries of the Capital District and our Regional Food Bank, to make our warehousing and procurement capacity a hub for food relief organizations throughout the county.

This increase for Schenectady Community Ministries carries a significant operational cost. Our pantry programs serve all of Schenectady out of our pantry and warehouse building on Hamilton Hill – one of the most impoverished and ethnically diverse neighborhoods in the Capital Region, through 10 mobile pantries in partnership with the city school district, community health partners, and the YWCA of NorthEastern NY, and over 100 pantry deliveries a week. Schenectady Community Ministries, our other food relief partners in the county, and each one of the organizations represented here are doing the work. Our call to the Governor, assemblymembers, and senators is to review the state budget and the contracting process to prioritize allocations and support to community-based food relief organizations and give us back the ability to sustain and expand these services and networks with the ability to be nimble and responsive. Community resilience, dignity, and sustainability are in the balance of community-based and responsive food access.

How can this happen?

• Let’s make sure all state agencies concerned are directly contracting with all types of organizations providing food relief programs, and providing them with, BOTH, Hunger Prevention and Nutrition Assistance Program and Nourish New York funding in those contracts.

• Partner with food relief organizations and their vendors, including food banks, for a straightforward reporting mechanism that supports the commitment to food access of the Hunger Prevention and Nutrition Assistance Program, and of support to New York State farmers and food producers of Nourish New York.

• Fund HPNAP at $75 Million

• Fund Nourish NY at $75 Million

We can do this. Community-level serving organizations have been and will continue to be ready to encourage the health, nourishment, and resilience of everyone in our communities.

Ahí Está Jesús

El domingo 15 de enero de 2023 tuve el singular privilegio de predicar en mi iglesia madre, la Primera Iglesia Bautista de Río Piedras (comenzando en el 28:35). El tema del sermón fue “Ahí Está Jesús” basado en la lección en el Evangelio según San Juan 1.29-37.

“Nuestro rol como seguidores de Jesús, de su ejemplo de presencia, cercanía, solidaridad, cotidianidad, y humanidad, no es que la gente venga a donde nosotros, ni mucho menos que la gente se convierta a nosotros... es preparar la mente y corazones de la gente para la inminencia de la presencia de Dios en la gente.”

Hace unos momentos tuvimos, como congregación, la hermosa  y singular oportunidad de conocer a un niño. El mismo fue  traído por sus padres para que recibiera una bendición en el  contexto del encuentro de adoración de esta comunidad de fe.  Es, en definitiva, un momento de oración. Pero el momento es  más que eso. A ese momento, en la tradición de esta  congregación, se le llama presentación. Cuando a mi sobrino  Benjamín se le dijo que venía a Puerto Rico para, entre otras  cosas, ir a la presentación de su primo, cuentan que su  respuesta fue rápida, y debo decir que llena de sentido y hasta  de sabiduría. Dice Cynthia que su respuesta fue, “mama, como  cuando en Lion King”. Presentar a la niñez es, ciertamente, un momento emotivo para la familia de la criatura, especialmente  para los padres. Pero como observó Benjamín, es mucho más  que eso. La presentación es un momento para la congregación.  Es una oportunidad muy particular para reevaluar nuestra  presteza y disposición a la función básica de la comunidad de  seguidores de Jesús. 

La lección del evangelio para esta mañana se encuentra en el  Evangelio según San Juan. De los cuatro evangelios, Juan es el  más peculiar. Permítanme ser franco con ustedes. Juan, el  evangelio, es más que peculiar. Yo le llamaría hasta extraño. A  Juan le está muy sin cuidado si el orden de su narrativa tiene  cohesión. Si decimos que los primeros tres evangelios, en su  hilvanar narraciones, tienen como propósito contar que fue lo  que hizo Jesús para explicar el porqué de las cosas que  sucedieron, podemos decir que Juan tiene como propósito exponer ideas en forma de enseñanzas para explicar quién es  Jesús y así dar sentido al porqué de las cosas que sucedieron.

La idea principal que busca Juan afirmar a través del evangelio  es que lo divino, lo eterno, ha irrumpido en lo mortal. En la  persona de Jesús, Dios se hace presente, cercano, solidario,  cotidiano, humano. Desde el principio del evangelio, Juan hace  esta afirmación. Y si es cierto que lo divino no solo se acerca a  lo humano, sino que habita, se mueve, y vive en nuestro  entorno y con nosotros está en el meollo del diario vivir,  entonces pudiéramos afirmar que por y a pesar,

• de que los huevos están casi literalmente a peseta,

• de que el costo de energía sigue subiendo,

• de que hay puentes de uso público en nuestro país rellenos con cartón,

• de que aún hay servidores públicos que los agarran con las  manos en la masa, 

• de que hay millones desplazados por guerras y crisis  político-económicas en la frontera mexica-estadounidense, en la frontera de Europa occidental, en el  sur asiático y a través del continente africano,

• de que a pesar que el 2022 fue el 6to año más caliente del planeta en récord, 

• de que el Alma Mater de muchos de nosotros está en precario por la intencionalidad de la clase política del país,

• a pesar de que el Paseo de Diego parecería que pisa y no  arranca,  

en esta mañana somos retados y animados por el testimonio de  Juan, evangelista, quien comienza su escrito con una buena  noticia: la acción divina “fue (hecha) carne, y habitó entre  nosotros (y vimos su gloria, [la mismísima gloria divina]), lleno  de gracia y de verdad.”

Justo después de semejante apertura a su evangelio, ya  andamos por el versículo 19 de Juan 1, varios líderes religiosos  y políticos de la colonia, en este caso la Palestina del siglo 1ro, se le acercaron a otro Juan, apellidado por la tradición como El  Bautista. Este Juan estaba a un lado del histórico Río Jordán,  anunciando que esa fuerza divina hecha ser humano estaba  entre la gente de aquella época, y que había que prepararse  para semejante presencia. Los agentes del orden público  colonial le preguntaron si él se consideraba profeta, pastor, o  tal vez Dios encarnado.

El escritor del evangelio no sugiere porque tanto interés del  gobierno colonial por Juan el Bautista, pero estudiosos del  texto bíblico y del momento histórico sugieren que el interés no  era religioso, sino político. Una experiencia o un mensaje que  atraiga al pueblo con esperanza puede causar que el pueblo se  ponga a analizar lo que está pasando, y a atreverse a articular  que la causa de los pesares y dificultades por las que se estén pasando no son culpa del pueblo, sino de políticos que, en vez  de estar entre el pueblo, hablar esperanza, y actuar solidaridad,  se gastan en ciclos de 4 años en posicionarse en el poder.  

“Nos toca practicar. Y es que la fe no se sabe. La fe se vive. La fe no se enseña. La fe se comparte.”

La mejor manera de cualquier político, en el siglo 1ro o en el  siglo 21, especialmente en una colonia, de mantenerse en el  poder, es controlando los recursos de esperanza, paz, justicia,  salud, y bienestar. El que venga un grupo de vecinos a  organizarse y a hacerse presente, cercano, solidario, cotidiano,  humano, y a organizar respuestas a las dificultades del diario  vivir, un grupo fuera del círculo político, es una afrenta al orden  político y religioso. Quienes viven en palacios de mármol pagos  con impuestos del pueblo que debieron ir a arreglar techos  quebrantados por temporales no les conviene un pueblo organizado fuera del sistema que ha sido creado. Y no nos quede ninguna duda. El sistema político y social que se nos ha  construido es uno que beneficia la competencia feroz,  construida sobre la marginación intencional y la despreocupación por el bienestar del prójimo. Juan el Bautista lo único que hizo fue ir al Río Jordán a clamar en el desierto, y a enderezar caminos para que todos puedan estar presente, cercano, solidario, y cotidiano junto a la divinidad que se había  acercado al mundo.

Juan el Bautista deja claro que él no es ninguna de las cosas que  las autoridades coloniales estaban buscando. Pero que nos  quede claro, de ninguna manera Juan el Bautista intentó  alejarse del propósito de su trabajo. Su propósito no era atraer  gente a donde él estaba, ni reunir a personas para que lo  apoyaran. Su ministerio, su llamado, era preparar la mente del pueblo que lo escuchaba para la inminente llegada de Dios  entre nosotros.

La lección de esta mañana la encontramos en el evangelio  según San Juan, capítulo 1, comenzando en el versículo 29: 

El siguiente día vio Juan a Jesús que venía a él, y dijo: He  aquí el Cordero de Dios, que quita el pecado del  mundo. Este es aquel de quien yo dije: Después de mí  viene un varón, el cual es antes de mí; porque era primero que yo. Y yo no le conocía; mas para que fuese manifestado a Israel, por esto vine yo bautizando con agua.

También dio Juan testimonio, diciendo: Vi al Espíritu que  descendía del cielo como paloma, y permaneció sobre él. Y  yo no le conocía; pero el que me envió a bautizar con  agua, aquel me dijo: Sobre quien veas descender el  Espíritu y que permanece sobre él, ese es el que bautiza  con el Espíritu Santo. Y yo le vi, y he dado testimonio de  que este es el Hijo de Dios. 

El siguiente día otra vez estaba Juan, y dos de sus  discípulos. Y mirando a Jesús que andaba por allí, dijo: He aquí el Cordero de Dios. Le oyeron hablar los dos  discípulos, y siguieron a Jesús. 

La buena noticia para nosotros, para Río Piedras, para nuestro  país y para el mundo entero en esta mañana es que Dios se hizo  ser humano, estuvo entre nosotros, y aún con nosotros está.  Ahora, el reto es seguir el ejemplo de Juan el Bautista. Nuestro rol como seguidores de Jesús, de su ejemplo de presencia, cercanía, solidaridad, cotidianidad, y humanidad, no es que la gente venga a donde nosotros, ni mucho menos que la gente se  convierta a nosotros. Nuestro rol, como el de Juan, es preparar la mente y corazones de la gente para la inminencia de la presencia de Dios en la gente.

Para poder hacer eso, tenemos que también estar  continuamente nuestra mente y corazones para que cuando Jesús vaya pasando por ahí, le podamos reconocer y decir lo  que Juan el Bautista, Ahí Está Jesús. 

• Hay que estar listos para poder decir Ahí Está Jesús en la reunión de vecinos del pueblo que les piden a ustedes  espacio para organizar comida, refugio, atención médica, y  tranquilidad para todos los que viven en el casco del  pueblo.  

• Hay que estar listos para decir Ahí Está Jesús en el Bori, en  el Paseo Bar, y en los helados de los chinos quienes  ofrecen espacios para que la gente se encuentre, se  conozca, comparta y se organice.

• Hay que estar listos para decir Ahí Está Jesús en cada  familia que puede esta noche dormir tranquilos y bien  refugiados por el techo nuevo que gente extraña, de miles  de millas de distancia, vinieron y les pusieron. 

• Hay que estar listos para decir Ahí está Jesús en la  Parroquia de El Pilar, en la Evangélica Unida de la Arzuaga,  en la Iglesia Cristo Sanador de la Robles, y aún en la  mezquita de la Calle Padre Colón. 

• Hay que estar listos para poder decir Ahí Está Jesús en el trabajo de hijas e hijos de esta congregaciones quienes  desde la sala de emergencia, el salón de clase, el lente fotográfico, el bizcocho para la fiesta, el volante de la guagua que busca niñas y niños de todo el pueblo, la  bitácora de contabilidad bien cuadrada, la asistencia legal, la hospitalidad de la sala de su hogar, y hasta en los  bombones en la guayabera del domingo, dan testimonio de que se puede ver y vivir con Jesús aquí, allá, y a través de todo Río Piedras y el Mundo. ¡Jesús Está Ahí!

En medio de todo eso, en el medio de la cuadra de la Ave  Constitución, Calle Roble, Calle Brumbaugh y el Paseo de Diego,  esta iglesia ha estado ahí reconociendo y apuntando a Jesús en  los momentos más gozosos y desastrosos que ha  experimentado esta comunidad. Tenemos experiencia de ver a  Jesús, pero nos toca seguir practicando. Porque las  circunstancias que nos tire la vida nos requieren, no descansar  en lo que hemos logrado en el pasado, sino en la capacidad que  tenemos para prepararnos para ver al Jesús que nos va a llegar  de manera nueva y buena para lo que tengamos que enfrentar.

Nos toca practicar. Y es que la fe no se sabe. La fe se vive. La fe no se enseña. La fe se comparte.

Esa práctica requiere compromiso e intencionalidad. Y hace un  rato practicamos ese compromiso con intencionalidad. Cuando  presentamos a Daniel André hace un rato, oramos y bendijimos a Daniel y a sus papás. Nos unimos al gozo que representa  Daniel para toda su familia. Pero como sugirió Benjamín en su  interpretación, también se nos presentó a Daniel André. Hace un rato conocimos formalmente al nene de Mari y de Gabo, y  nos comprometimos con él. Nos comprometimos con él a que  íbamos a mostrarle donde está Jesús, y a enseñarle a  reconocerlo. Y algún día, según el don de la gracia de nuestro  Señor, Daniel podrá conocer a Jesús, no porque se lo  atosigamos, sino porque fuimos fieles en señalarle a él y a  todos quienes nos rodean, en lo extraordinario y en lo ordinario, mira, ahí está Jesús. La gracia salvadora de Dios hará  el resto.

Nos toca preparar el camino. Nos toca discernir el momento  que nos ha tocado vivir. Seamos valientes. Cuando  reconozcamos a Jesús, dígalo, textéelo, socialícelo para que lo  vea todo el que le preste atención: Ahí Está Jesús.

One and All (with video link)

based on a sermon preached to the First Presbyterian Church of Albany (beginning 27:45)
on Sunday, August 21, 2022. The Scripture lesson was Luke 13:10-17

Humans are creatures of habit. These habits are created, in part, by the social cues, we have been raised and conditioned to accept as norms, even as normal. Most of these queues are really assumptions we have come to accept, most without question or hesitation. And we accept them, I would argue, for three main reasons: 1. they have gotten us here thus far in our lives, 2. most of our senses – physical and otherwise – seem to confirm those assumptions, and 3. many of those assumptions we learned – whether by lesson or observation – from persons we respect and admire. These assumptions, social queues we have agreed, whether we realize it or not, to establish as the standard for social interaction and access, makes the world as we know it go round.

Now, the interesting thing about these assumptions that establish social normalcy and standard is that they are neither constant nor consistent. They may seem constant and consistent to us because their change happens slowly and often inadvertently, especially to those whose lives and livelihoods remain above or somewhere at or near whatever the “social standard” is. This whole process of creating standards is a constant cycle. It is, no doubt, controlled by those with social, political, and economic power to remain in power as long as they can. And it is, in fact, as long as they can because the world – the natural environment along with the social, economic, and political structures humans have built on top of it – is in constant flux. It may seem constant in the short-term appreciation of our journey through this earth.

Those of us who are in the historical arts or the social sciences can say that there are patterns for what is set as social standards. Truth is, however, that the sets of social norms are constantly changing. It is a cycle, and I would add a vicious cycle at that. Vicious and violent. Those of us who have been created in and made to believe that we are close to the social standard may be in a place where we can ignore or in fact not perceive the violence and viciousness of social standards. But it is so. It is vicious for those who seek to remain in power and stay in control for themselves and their kind. And it is violent for those who are continually created as the foundation, as the expendable grounding that support the livelihoods of others through social normalcy.

Some of us are beneficiaries of these social standards and often are taught to ignore how those benefits were achieved. We have been made to believe that some others of us are the expandable people. Structures have been created – literally and figurative structures – to not only ignore but to not perceive them. Many of us, far too many, are somewhere in that artificially created “middle” where we can decide to ignore and move about life not perceiving the viciousness of those with power to structure our social queues and the violence experienced by those whose lives have been deemed replaceable.

The trouble, even enigma of it all, is that no matter how and when we come to awareness of the viciousness and violence of the social, political, and economic standards we inhabit, many of us feel (as I am certain many of us are feeling now) that even when this social constructing might be true, there is little to nothing we can do about it. The “just go with the flow” lesson kicks in. And with that flow goes our human impetus to struggle for a better way of being. You see, humans, the social animals that we are who are also endowed, we believe, with an ability to think and analyze like no other created being, are found between two spaces that are, either, in tension or clashing against each other. On the one hand is our ability to hope – that we know that a better, more verdant, more solidarious, more equitable, more just world is possible. On the other is our drive to survive – that if I make it as close as to the norm as possible, I may just go through this life as untroubled as possible. And the reason I say that these two spaces are either in tension or clashing is because my imagination and experience can’t lead me to find a center between them. In my estimation one can keep one’s head down and go through life as undetectable as possible, or one will be very exposed, even vulnerable, for the sake of other humans and of creation. I tend to pragmatism in life, work, vocation, and service. As of today, I don’t seem to find the pragmatic in this tension and clash we have been socialized into.

Luke, the gospel writer, went headfirst on this tension and clash that was much a reality in the 1st century Roman Empire, as it is today in the United States. The story of the encounter of Jesus with a woman afflicted by a sickness for 18 years that made her be bent and unable to stand straight, and the argument with the leader of the synagogue that followed is unique to Luke. I wonder what was going on in Luke’s congregation that he decided to include this story only he seemed to have known about? The social norms and standards of the time was what framed this encounter. Illness and physical differences that were defined as limiting would have made a person untouchable – affirmed by ritual and religious language, unwelcomed, and even invisible. What is more, there were in the first century and still are in the 21st century religious believes that seek to affirm that an illness is a form of divine retribution. The gospel writer only tells us that this was a woman, ill for close to 20 years, made invisible not by any awareness of her life story, but because of how social norms separate and reject that which is created as limiting.

Many of us may ask, and should ask, who is anyone to determine what makes a human being whole and deserving of full social interaction. The argument of Jesus with the leader of the synagogue affirms two important things about religious community in particular, and about social interactions in particular. Language is also essential. One can read this lesson through, especially if this is a familiar story, and miss the nuances of language – both in Greek and in many translations. In his argument with the leader of the synagogue, Jesus clarifies the action taken, and the role of the religious community. One, is to identify the double standard that would have made the supposed healing of a person as daily work, when tending to animals that provide profit was excused as not work in the day of rest. The double standard lies in the prioritizing the benefit of some over the life and livelihood of all. Jesus goes a step further to say that even if healing was to be considered work, healing was not what Jesus did to this woman.

And here is where words are essential. The word translated to English as “infirmity” or “sick” comes from a Greek term that would have been better translated as weakness or frailty. What is more, Luke describes the condition of this woman as being afflicted by a “spirit of sickness.” And I make that point because, should Luke have wanted to identify her condition as a sickness, one that could have been addressed with medicinal knowledge, he would have used the term for such a condition. But he did not. And because the condition of the woman was described as a spirit inflicting weakness or frailty, a condition that had physical AND social repercussions for the woman, the action of Jesus as described by Luke was NOT to heal the woman, but to set her free from her illness. Jesus sees the woman, calls the woman, and touches the women setting her free from the social conditions that had made her invisible for 18 years. 18 years! And that is what Jesus argues right back to the leader of that congregation - that setting a member of the community free in order for that member to be able to be fully seen for who that person is with and in spite of the realities that might set a person apart from the artificially created social norms is not only NOT labor, but the essential role of the community of faith. Our role as witnesses of Jesus is to invest our senses in perceiving and interacting with the members of the community for who they are, and to create the conditions where, in spite of what society calls normal and excellent, people will be welcomed into a reality that provides them and all a better, more verdant, more solidarious, more equitable, more just reality. That is the good news – we are called to partner with Jesus to share the good news that God’s intention for humanity is to be with and for each other with the single standard that we are all created in the image of God.

May it be so. Amen.

Faith: A Marathon Relay

This is a sermon shared with the First Presbyterian Church of Albany based on the lesson of Hebrews 11:29-12:2

The letter to the Hebrews is, at once, a theologically profound, socially complicated, and literally awkward letter. And to be very honest, the letter to the Hebrews is one of those books in the Bible I try to avoid - as a preacher and in m pursuit of discipleship. I don’t know if it is because of my age, or the fast pace of this moment in my life - parenting, partnership, important friendship, family relationships, social leadership - but more often than not, what I would like to do in whatever spare time I have is to see some mindless TV program, or listen to a similarly mindless radio show or podcast, or read an article or a book that would catch my interest because of the cleverness of the use of words and not necessarily because of any depth it might have. If there is a book in the Bible that is neither of these is the Letter to the Hebrews.

From the opening of the letter, one realizes that this is a book that requires intentional presence because as one reads it seems that one is either missing the point or it is going over one’s head. And by saying this I am not trying to judge any one person’s reading comprehension and analytical abilities. But I know I am not far into reading the letter to the Hebrews by the time I realize that the image and sound in my head are those of the teacher in the Peanuts cartoons. (And if you don’t know what I’m talking about, just web search “Peanuts teacher”, and play a video. You’ll know what I’m talking about!)

 The danger with unbridled mindlessness, I think, is that it goes against our very human nature. One thing is to find quality time for frivolity and relaxation. A whole other thing is to pretend like we can ignore in any significant way the reality of who we are, the world we live in, and the people we are surrounded by - some by choice, and others by default. This is my unscientific, extroverted analysis of it: we are social animals, built to be in relationship in order to find meaning and sustenance for life. Whether we like to acknowledge it or not, there is much more to life and living than one’s ability to keep a fresh jug of milk in the refrigerator. Most of us know that even that most basic expectation of keeping fresh milk in the fridge is much more complicated to many both far and near to us. Whether we want it or not, whether we like it or not, I think our human drive to life and to living moves us often, not to say constantly, wanting to figure out how to make life and living better for us and for those around us as far in degrees of the relationship as we can possibly handle.

Religion is one of the ways humans have sought to make sense of the challenge of making things better for ourselves and for other humans. A connection to the transcendent, to the divine, to a power we cannot articulate nor comprehend, is one of the things that provide us the drive to figure life out for ourselves and for others. Christians define that drive as faith. Often used as a synonym for religious belief, the Random House Unabridged Dictionary defines “faith”, among other things as, “confidence or trust in a person or thing”, and as “belief that is not based on proof.” I don’t know about you, but confidence, trust, and the ability to believe without proof are quite difficult to find in a time where we are inundated at once with so much knowledge and with so little wisdom, a time where many in public discourse are trying to make lies plausible, and truth an exercise in futility. 

As a pastor and historian, I know these challenges are not unique to our time. Those who have achieved political, social, and religious power will seek to make truth whatsoever will support their ability to remain in that power. That was true in the late 1st-century community that first read the letter to the Hebrews, and that is true for us - religious communities seeking to witness a better, more community-based, more expansive, more inclusive way of being. 

Our predecessors in the faith had a different understanding of what faith was and what was it for. At the opening of chapter 11, the writers of the letter to the Hebrews write that

“…faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”

Beyond confidence, trust, and belief, faith for our early Christian ancestors was about assurance, hope, and conviction. What is more, the good news for us this morning is that such assurance, hope, and conviction is, an inheritance, a practice we can get better at, and a legacy we can and should leave to those who will come after us to articulate better ways of being community with and for each other. In his book, Peaceworks, Catholic spiritual director and theologian Henri Nouwen wrote that today

…we face a threat qualitatively different from all other previous threats and we do not have a fitting model for a response… As humanity we have entered a period in which our faith is being stripped of all support systems and defense mechanism. But it is precisely with this naked faith that we are called to build a community of hope that is able to resist the darkness of our age.

Even when the challenges we are facing in the greater scheme of things are not unique, I do agree with Father Nouwen that the realities we live in are qualitatively different from anything humans have faced before. The good news is, I think, that faith is not something we accomplish, but something we exercise. Working for goodness, well-being, peace, justice, and love is not a race any one of us can complete. It is more of a marathon, a relay. No one is expected to get their first. Each one of us is only expected to run our part as long and as fast as we can, only that. We have received the story of peace, justice, and reconciliation from an ancestor. We are only expected to run with that story in witness and presence in our community. Someone will pick up our version of the story of peace, justice, and reconciliation because they will have known of it through you and me. And so the marathon, the relay continues. 

And Jesus is before us in this marathon relay. Jesus is the pioneer and perfecter of faith and of the practice of faith. Life, and life abundant, a joyful life, a reconciled life is what awaits us. Exercising the faith we have inherited is practicing that way of living fully and abundantly with, for, and, alongside each other. We just need to pick up our part of the relay. That way we will witness our assured hope and conviction that a better world is possible and imminent. 

May it be so. Amen.

Blessed Continuums, Woeful Binaries (video)

A lesson for the gospel of Luke (6.17-26, NRSV)

17 He went down with them and stood on a level place. A large crowd of his disciples was there and a great number of people from all over Judea, from Jerusalem, and from the coastal region around Tyre and Sidon, 18 who had come to hear him and to be healed of their diseases. Those troubled by impure spirits were cured, 19 and the people all tried to touch him, because power was coming from him and healing them all.

20 Looking at his disciples, he said:

“Blessed are you who are poor,
    for yours is the kingdom of God.
21 Blessed are you who hunger now,
    for you will be satisfied.
Blessed are you who weep now,
    for you will laugh.
22 Blessed are you when people hate you,
    when they exclude you and insult you
    and reject your name as evil,
        because of the Son of Man.

23 “Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, because great is your reward in heaven. For that is how their ancestors treated the prophets.

24 “But woe to you who are rich,
    for you have already received your comfort.
25 Woe to you who are well fed now,
    for you will go hungry.
Woe to you who laugh now,
    for you will mourn and weep.
26 Woe to you when everyone speaks well of you,
    for that is how their ancestors treated the false prophets.

I find it quite unfortunate that the Greek verb “iato” on verse 19, from the infinitive “iaomai”, is translated to “healing.” It is done this way throughout the Gospels. I find it unfortunate because in all – Koine Greek, English and Spanish, my mother lounge – to heal, aiomai, sanar, means much more than being healed from some feeling of ailment in your body. The Gospel lesson speaks of power coming out of Jesus (I love the choice of words!) and healing everyone.

And notice that the “everyone” in that narrative was a large group of people that included his disciples, folks of the ethnic and religious group of Jesus, and people that were intentionally othered. A veritably diverse group of folks gathered in that leveled field to meet Jesus, listen to him, and touch him because they wanted to be encouraged and healed. I do not think that the power of God that emanated from Jesus simply healed anyone. It certainly did not heal in any way you or I have been conditioned to understand what being healed means. The systems that we occupy – the US version of representative government, social capitalism, and US Protestant religiosity – have devised concepts and ideas that reduce to binaries the way we relate to each other in community. One is either rich or poor, healthy or sick, fed or hungry, sheltered or homeless, abled or disabled, a cis-gender heterosexual or not, Christian or not, white or otherwise.

“...(many) believe that voting-in a diversity, equity, and inclusion policy, adding more diverse pictures to social media, and writing more inclusive words to our websites is all it takes to bend the long “arc of the moral universe… towards justice” (Martin Luther King, Jr.), expecting for that bending to happen swiftly and efficiently. ”

Notice not only the fact that these are binaries. Each one of those is articulated to make white, Protestant, wealthy, heteronormativity the standard of comparison. Supremacy and othering are the core, they are downright sins of our society and our time. To measure in binaries is an attempt at nothing but the destruction of that which is unknown willingly with the purpose to control and profit. I hope I don’t have to convince anyone reading this that the American social order and Church, all along the spectrum – from progressives to evangelicals, from reformists to conservatives – are part and parcel of the articulation of white supremacy and marginalization. It runs so deep that many in the majority, especially those in authority, believe that voting-in a diversity, equity, and inclusion policy, adding more diverse pictures to social media, and writing more inclusive words to our websites is all it takes to bend the long “arc of the moral universe… towards justice” (Martin Luther King, Jr.), expecting for that bending to happen swiftly and efficiently.

The gospel lesson is challenging our binary ways. I would say that the gospel goes into a full-on attack on the binaries that have normalized how we engage and are community. Verses 24 to 26 talk about how woeful it is for those who think themselves rich, well-fed, and praised. Think about it, in a world of binaries there is nowhere beyond wealth, stocked private pantries and refrigerators, and political capital. You could quantify greater accumulation, but there is really no growth. There are no real nuances in binaries.  

“...communities that live and work with and for the wellbeing of each other. It is through that work of diversity, solidarity, peace, and justice that the power of the divine will come out restoring the dignity of everyone, and encouraging the newness of self-determination, inclusion, and love...”

As we face the very real and seemingly unassailable political and social systems that perpetrate and perpetuate the violence of disenfranchisement, poverty, and marginalization, the gospel lesson is a veritable source of good news. The way Jesus articulates the blessings are an invitation to relationship, community engagement, and solidarity. Poverty, hunger, and weeping are met with a promise and invitation to a new political and social order that guarantees justice, nourishment, and gladness. The way to sustain the bending towards justice of the arc of the moral universe is with intentionality, solidarity, and community. And Jesus demonstrates just that in this lesson. Here and throughout his ministry, Jesus places himself often in vulnerable spaces, in situations where he engages with the unknown. His teachings and his actions emanate from this being with a community – be that his disciples, the multitude, or a smaller group of close friends. The opening of the lesson is revealing of what we, as followers of Jesus, should be putting ourselves in the middle of: gathering with the multitudes of those with whom we feel connected and of those whose othering narratives we have bought into. For it is in the gathering of the marginalized, the disenfranchised, and the poor where we will see and experience the power of Jesus manifested. The power that Jesus shared did not heal the way we think it did. The power of the world affirms ableist, heteronormative, capitalist, nationalist ways that bring destruction, degradation, sickness, hunger, and authoritarianism. The power of the world encourages those who can check as many boxes as possible in the checklist of binaries to do work for those who are poor and disenfranchised.

The power that came out of Jesus restored the very livelihoods of everyone that experienced it, creating a whole new community among those who moments before were strangers, others to each other. The gospel lesson is calling every person of good will, and summons the Church, to live into the hopes and opportunities of diversity, solidarity, peace, and justice. These are not accomplished through statements, bylaws, or policies. These are lived in communities that live and work with and for the wellbeing of each other. It is through that work of diversity, solidarity, peace, and justice that the power of the divine will come out restoring the dignity of everyone, and encouraging the newness of self-determination, inclusion, and love – a new community of folks who will suddenly find themselves restored, human beings made whole with and for each other.

To see and/or listen to the sermon shared with the

Presbyterian New England Congregational Church, please click here.

La No-Ordenación de Mujeres

La No-Ordenación de Mujeres - Una discusión retrógrada milenaria

El Concilio Teológico de la Iglesia Nacional Presbiteriana de México celebrado del 17-18 de agosto de 2011, y una opinión publicada por la otrora Associated Baptist Press (ahora Baptist News Global), revolcó entonces la milenaria discusión sobre la aptitud de la mujer para ejercer, con autoridad, los oficios religiosos reconocidos por muchas denominaciones protestantes evangélicas como la ordenación al santo ministerio - es decir, la autoridad de enseñar (docencia), de administrar (obispado), y de dirigir social y espiritualmente (diaconía).

Al sugerirles que lean "Ministerios Eclesiásticos y Ordenación de Mujeres desde una Visión Reformada Actual", por Leopoldo Cervantes-Ortiz (pastor presbiteriano, mexicano), no puedo sino considerar esta discusión como absurda. Tanto la comunidad hebrea veterotestamentaria, como las comunidades neotestamentarias, y la iglesia hasta nuestros días han sido y continúan siendo transformadas por mujeres que, a pesar de las expectativas sociales y restricciones - algunas institucionales, y muchas por actitudes implícitas - responden a la vocación divina de dirigir el derrotero de la Iglesia en todos sus niveles.

Si algunos piensan que la desición del Concilio Teológico de la INPM es inaudita, o que la actitud institucional y de los líderes de la Convención Bautista del Sur es inconcebible, sepa que en denominaciones más progresistas, como las Iglesias Bautistas Americanas, EEUUA y la Iglesia Presbiteriana (EEUUA), donde se anima y recibe la ordenación de mujeres al ministerio, hay ministros, ministras, laicos y laicas que profesan una visión machista (a veces misógina) de la Biblia con enseñanzas de exclusividad varonil en el ejercicio de la docencia, el episcopado y la diaconía eclesiásticas.

Recuerdo que no fue sin discusión que se logró al ordenación de la Rvda. Carmen Miranda (cuando era pastora titular de la Iglesia Bautista La Gracia, Belleville, NJ).

Recuerdo escuchar a colegas referirse a la Rvda. Marisol Ahumada Pavez, entonces pastora de la Misión Bautista en East Orange, NJ, como “la esposa del Rvdo. Jaime Vega” y no con su título colegial. Recuerdo los murmullos de pasillo y los refunfuñeos respecto a estas dos mujeres llamadas al ministerio presbiterial.

Recuerdo los años de reconocimiento, apoyo, acompañamiento y ánimo al llamado al ministerio de la Rvda. Fela Barrueto, quien coordinó los ministerios de reintegración social de las ABHMS. Sin embargo, la historia de la ordenación de Fela es testigo de inacción y desatención de líderes regionales - inacción que algunos interpretaron como una actitud implícita contra el ministerio de la mujer.

La verdad es que mi experiencia puede ser que vicie mi visión y apertura al ministerio ordenado de la mujer. En mi experiencia cristiana conocí a la Rvda. Eva Barreto como pastora asistente de la Primera Iglesia Bautista de Río Piedras. Por 11 años conocí a las Iglesias Bautistas de Puerto Rico siendo dirigidas por el ministerio ejecutivo de la Rvda. Yamina Apolinaris Concepción, y tres ministras ejecutivas asociadas, la Rvda. Zoraida Rivera, la Rvda. Mayra González, y la Rvda. Julia Ester Rivera (+). Además, los bautistas puertorriqueños conocimos el liderato ejecutivo interino de la Rvda. Miladys Oliveras (+) y de la Rvda. Miriam Rodríguez.

Sin embargo, no concibo ningún argumento teológico o bíblico que, puesto en su respectivo contexto, explique las posiciones institucionales de la INPM, la CBS, y otras denominaciones e individuos que piensan de la misma manera. Si el testimonio bíblico es cierto, desde el ministerio profético y sacerdotal de Miriam, al ministerio judicial de Débora, al ministerio apostólico de María, la Magdalena, hasta el ministerio pastoral de Lidia, Dios ha llamado y apoyado, y continúa llamando y apoyando el ministerio de la mujer, incluyendo el ministerio ordenado.

Esta absurda y retrógrada discusión milenaria tiene que acabar. Mientras tanto, reciban mis compañeras ministras mi respeto colegial, mi apoyo espiritual, y mi defensa socio-religiosa.

Lecturas recomendadas

Ministerios Eclesiásticos y Ordenación de Mujeres desde una Visión Reformada Actual - en Lupa Protestante

Female jet pilot or astronaut? Sure. Preacher? No. So where can I buy a dragon? - en inglés por Baptist News Global

Esta fue una opinión que compartí hace 10 años, y la reviso para su consideración.

A Tall Order (video)

A Tall Order: Jesus Followers Called to be Imitators of God

this is based on a sermon shared with the First Presbyterian Church of Albany, August 8, 2021. You can access the video transmission of the sermon here, beginning in minute 16:35

Paul’s letter to the Christian communities in Ephesus is an exposition of how the redeeming power of Jesus – in the cross and in his resurrection – was the beginning of the gathering of a community of witnesses from all diversities. From such diversity, God has called forth an assembly – the Church – as co-workers in the building of the kingdom of Heaven on earth, as witnesses of God’s intention to redeem the world and to make it whole again. This community is a gathering of actors of the message and work of Jesus in and from every geography; every language and culture; every social space a person redeemed by the baptism of Jesus is found.

At the beginning of chapter 5 of the letter to the Ephesians there are two sentences that are at the same time captivating and daunting – “Therefore, imitate God like dearly loved children. Live your life with love, following the example of Christ…” (1) I don’t know about you, but this reads like a tall order. I wonder what Paul was thinking when he penned this down. Paul’s letters show that he was well aware of what was going on in the communities he would write letters to. Often, the letters Paul wrote were a call to theological or pastoral correction. They were also calls address the social, economic and/or political reality in the city or region he would correspond with. An effective religious and theological witness is related to the contextual challenges it lives in. What was this call to be imitators of God, to follow the example of Jesus, all about?

“Tolerance is not a Christian Value... The Church is called to solidarity.”

I think had a deeper emotional, perhaps social investment with the Christians in Ephesus. This letter was personal. Paul encourages the Christians in Ephesus to keep up the high level of enthusiasm knowing that they were called to be a community of followers of Jesus with people gathered from the whole known world. Unity was paramount, but so was the diversity of perspectives found in the diversity of people. This unity and diversity will prove essential for a witness to Jesus in one of the most politically and financially consequential cities in Asia Minor and the Roman Empire.

When I originally shared these thoughts the news was at best sobering, at worst full of angst. An independent report had found that Governor Cuomo, of New York, perpetrated sexual harassment while in office. The lack of leadership at all levels of government in the face of an increasing threat from new variants of the pandemic was frustrating and confusing. Hyper-individualism was on display by those calling for the cease of mask mandates. A year and a half into the pandemic there was still a lack of access to information and outreach about the vaccines in some communities - especially those with accents in their speech and with greater amounts of melanin in their skin. There was also news purporting a rebounding of the economy even when many people, including neighbors of ours, faced the real possibility of losing the safety of a roof, most of them over lack of clear directives about access to resources to remediate just that threat. I would have summarized the news for that week with this headline: “Some in the US live under the impression the economy and public health measures are working for them, while many in this country have yet to hear how these measures meant to aid them will reach them.”

The news is a good way to gauge the context we live in. Our context (and our experience of it) inevitably provides a lens through which to read Scripture and ponder its teachings for us today. Our experience of the faith, and the community with whom we worship (or not), is also another important filter for interpretation. I told the community with whom I first shared these thoughts that they should know themselves to be loved by God and by its leaders. I went further to say that not every religious community is made aware of how much they are loved and appreciated. That is also an important lens for scriptural interpretation and witness discernment.

Ephesians 4:25-5:2 inspired these thoughts. From the Common English Bible:

Therefore, after you have gotten rid of lying, Each of you must tell the truth to your neighbor because we are parts of each other in the same body. Be angry without sinning. Don’t let the sun set on your anger. Don’t provide an opportunity for the devil. Thieves should no longer steal. Instead, they should go to work, using their hands to do good so that they will have something to share with whoever is in need.

Don’t let any foul words come out of your mouth. Only say what is helpful when it is needed for building up the community so that it benefits those who hear what you say. Don’t make the Holy Spirit of God unhappy—you were sealed by him for the day of redemption. Put aside all bitterness, losing your temper, anger, shouting, and slander, along with every other evil. Be kind, compassionate, and forgiving to each other, in the same way God forgave you in Christ.

Therefore, imitate God like dearly loved children. Live your life with love, following the example of Christ, who loved us and gave himself for us. He was a sacrificial offering that smelled sweet to God.

“Therefore, imitate God like dearly loved children. Live your life with love, following the example of (Jesus)…” That is a tall order, but one we are called to take on with courage. In the first century – as the Ephesian Church was facing the challenge of the economic power benefiting some and need was rampant among most – Paul calls the followers of Jesus to be imitators of God, to actively embody in word, action, and engagement what is the reaction to knowing that God wants to redeem the world. God is the followers of Jesus to actively embody in word, action, and engagement what is it that being redeemed by God can be in and for the world. That requires that we shed every layer of political, economic, social, and theological service to the status quo in our words, actions and engagements, and to put on the ways of Jesus as the Spirit has and will continue to inspire and empower us to.

Dialogue is not a Christian value. Dialogue is a lazy paradigm for engagement with diversity, one that reduces any encounter we might have with the world to a transaction that calls the world to accept Christ as Lord and Savior. The Church is called to conversation with the world. In conversation we will have the ability to simply be with and among the world learning about their yearns, hopes, pains, and aspirations while sharing the spiritual gifts of joy, peace, justice, and reconciliation. In conversation the world will get to know the community called out by Jesus because the Jesus community will be intentional and committed to stay in relationship with the world. In conversation with the world the Church will grow in awareness of the world, and hopefully in understanding. In conversation with the world, the Church will participate with the world in its challenges and turmoil. In conversation with the world, the Church will convert into an effective presence of Jesus in, with, and for the world. In conversation with the world, the Church may just be able to shine some light, share some flavor, be Jesus with and among the world. The Jesus we worship, the Jesus we serve did not call to a transactional relationship of acceptance. The Jesus we witness to the world opened himself, was made vulnerable, to be in conversation with the world so that he could be with and for the world in every profoundly struggling way in order for the world to gain knowledge of the love of God. That knowledge of the love of God, we believe, leads an experience of God which reveals in the mind and spirit of the believer the certainty that God’s intention is love, justice, peace, and reconciliation for all (and the whole created order).

Tolerance is not a Christian value. Tolerance is a lazy social and theological attitude that allows the tolerant to keep the understanding that the other is on the wrong side of everything. The Church is called to solidarity. Solidarity is, perhaps, the most vulnerable social, political, economic, and theological way of being. When one is in solidarity with the other, one opens oneself to live with, be with, be for the struggles and opportunities of the other. Solidarity even takes one step further. It opens engagement to an understanding that the struggle of the other is not only just, but the struggle of all. Solidarity is acknowledging, in the words of Martin Luther King, Jr, that “injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly.” (2) That is solidarity. Tolerance is not only a lazy standard. It is not a social, cultural, political, philosophical, or theological value. The Church is called to be in solidarity. Persons of goodwill are not called to tolerance. They are called to solidarity.

It is in conversation and solidarity that one can understand, embrace, and enact Paul’s call to speak the truth. It is in conversation and solidarity that one can speak the truth in love, that is, with the intention for the wellbeing of everyone with whom one engages. It is in conversation and solidarity that one can recognize that there are far too many reasons, because of far too many circumstances, stemming from far too many contexts why one would feel angry.

Anger is a most human of feelings. Left to its own devices, and Paul says that much, anger will lead to sin. Period. However, living in a paradigm of conversation and solidarity, one can channel the energy of anger through a commitment to love and goodwill. And there is nothing individualistic about love and goodwill. If you love, if you have a sense of goodwill, you have a sense of community and of neighborhood. The commitment of anyone that operates in conversation and solidarity will be goodwill, the upbuilding and wellbeing of the community, of the whole community, as diverse and complicated as communities brought together are.

Say truth. Live truth, not only to and with those in church, or with those of a common theological, political or social persuasion. Speak truth to everyone who is a neighbor.

To be the Church is to speak, to inspire, to witness Jesus to everyone who is our neighbor for the sake of building up community. The church builds community by rejecting tolerance and practicing solidarity. The church builds community by rejecting dialogue and being in conversation and life together with the world we have been placed with and in service to.

The church is called to be community by recognizing the anger that is in us and around us, and by inviting all to use that energy to dismantle inequity and build for radical welcome and wellbeing.

The church is called to be community by choosing the more difficult and Spirit-empowered higher ethical ground – with kindness, compassion, and forgiveness. The church is called to realize that assuming that higher ethical ground is possible not because of our theological, social or political persuasion, but because we are also objects of God’s forgiveness, compassion, and kindness.

In word and deed, so help me God, I will continue to invite the Church to be with the world – the community God has called us to be in Jesus – a sacrifice worth God’s worship for it embodies love, justice, joy and reconciliation.

(1) - from the Common English Bible

(2) - from Martin Luther King, Jr.’s “Letter from Birmingham Jail”