A Theology of Remembrance

Today is International Holocaust Remembrance Day, set by the United Nations in 2005 on the anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz-Birkenau to honor the six million Jewish victims of the Holocaust and millions of other victims of Nazism. Auschwitz was the largest Nazi concentration camp complex. When Soviet troops liberated it in 1945, the emaciated survivors who had not been led off into “death marches” greeted them as liberators. In today’s essay, I want to say two things. First, it is essential to remember the Holocaust with sober realism. Second, remembering is a difficult task and something that we have to work at from many angles. 

 

One reason it is important to remember the Holocaust is because it was an event where actual people planned and executed a plan to systematically kill other actual people in an attempt to destroy them based on their Jewish identity. That is the definition of genocide. Someone who was 10 years old when Auschwitz was liberated would be 88 years old today, which is why it is increasingly rare to meet Holocaust survivors. But, over the years, many of us have met survivors and it is always a humbling event to hear their stories. For someone like me, born well after the liberation, meeting survivors prevented me from simply relegating the Holocaust to the past, as a moment in history, and made it a reality that had to factor into my view of people, my view of God, my views of morality, of war, and of human dignity. When photos are posted online of a group of local High School student saluting a swastika made of red plastic beer cups, when that same campus was flooded the next week with anti-Semitic posters, we cannot deny that we have failed to remember the scourge of Nazism and the Holocaust as real history, and not as something one can idealize really or comically. So, yes, it is important to remember the Holocaust, even if we had nothing personal to do with it. 

 

Remembering well is a task that can travel several different directions. One way to remember the Holocaust is to view it within other horrific genocidal movements in history. Last week I heard some representatives of the Acjachemen/Tongva tribes, who once inhabited much of Orange County. Colonial powers systematically decimated their people, at one point killing up to 90% of them as they sought to appropriate the land where most of us live. The city where I grew up, Hampton, VA, was settled in 1609. There was a plaque near my childhood home that showed how Hampton was the “oldest continuous living English settlement in the US.” Just ten years later, in 1619, the first African slaves were brought to the US at a harbor in Hampton called Point Comfort. Other genocidal actions carry names that are familiar to many of us from more recent history: The Genocide in Darfur, Rwanda, Bosnia and Herzegovina, the “Killing Fields” of Cambodia, “the Rape of Nanking.” In every case, it was human beings dehumanizing other human beings to eliminate whole peoples. When we view the Holocaust in this way, we have to reckon with genocide as a repeated offense in human history. The point here is not to lose sight of the particularity of the Holocaust, but to keep us from imagining that “we” or “folks like us” could never so something evil like that.

 

Another way to remember the Holocaust is to view it within the history of anti-Semitism, a long, complex history. Even in the New Testament, we see references to “the Jews” that were internal arguments, speaking to some real tensions between early Jewish Christians and their Jewish communities. A lot of these references were picked up and repeated outside of their original context (which was complicated in itself), and increasingly became justification for blatant anti-Semitism. Good Friday has long been a dangerous day for many Jews, as fanatical Christians unleash anger on them for “killing Jesus.” Some of Martin Luther’s comments were explicitly invoked by Nazis as justification for their crusades against Jews. Today one might hear of “Jewish Space Lasers” or the Rothschild family or White Nationalists chanting that Jews “will not replace us.” Historical memory can be a demonic and harmful thing. The Holocaust was in many ways a culmination of long-brewing anti-Semitism that was pervasive well beyond Germany’s borders. 

 

Finally, I feel the need to say that there is a way of thinking about the aftermath of the Holocaust, not so much about the Holocaust itself, that is important. The horror and reaction to the Holocaust was a driving force behind the establishment of Israel in 1948. However one feels about the political or theological rationale behind this act, I think it is important to consider the perspective of the Palestinians who were displaced and have been systematically maligned by this action. I find it problematic when anyone dismisses the horror of the Holocaust. What is open for conversation, in my mind, is why Palestinians have had to bear the brunt of an attempt to correct that horror. This, too, is a very complex matter and fraught with deeply held convictions on every side (and there are many). I’m sure my attempt to name it has not been adequate, but it is the best I can do. If we remember the Holocaust within the context of oppressed peoples generally, we honor the plight of Palestinians on this day as well. 

 

There are few memorial days that are as complex and historically challenging as today, Holocaust Memorial Day. May God help us to honor it, even with its challenges. 

 

Mark of St. Mark

The Imperative of the Mundane

 We are looking for a few courageous folk who are willing to assist on Saturday evenings and Sunday mornings with our audio/visual work, which are necessary for our in-person worship as well as our online attendees. Some of the skills are very easy to learn and others can be learned over time. If you are willing to explore some of these roles, please contact Office Manager Sue-Ann Wichman here.

 

Not long ago, I was talking to a presbytery executive who seemed kind of dispirited. When I asked how she was doing, she responded that she felt that she spent too many hours every day dealing with matters that seem to have nothing to the Reign of God. She’s a person who dreams big, so I can imagine how frustrating it would be. 

 

Here’s my witty wisdom on the matter: So much of what it takes for the church to be the church has nothing to do with the church being the church. After Jesus and the disciples ate the last supper together, Judas went away to conspire, Jesus and the eleven others went to the Mount of Olives to pray, and we all know the drama of Judas’ betrayal, Jesus’ arrest, and the disciples’ abandonment. But guess what: Someone had to clean up the dishes. Seriously, someone was always cleaning up the dishes, returning the donkey, filling the wineskins, finding some firebrands for the nocturnal forays into the garden, making arrangements for overnight accommodations (for 13, most of the time!), and so on. Someone real does the work of “house elves” – those are imaginary creatures from the Harry Potter books, who do all of the mundane tasks out of sight and out of mind. In fact, there are moments in the gospels when Jesus instructs some of the disciples to go and make arrangements, reminding us that, even for Jesus, things did not just magically appear. Real life is about someone cleaning the crumbs off the counter, remembering to take the garbage to the curb, and putting more air in the tires when the weather gets cold – along with all the exciting stuff that gets into novels. 

 

The mundane. None of it is sexy but all of it is necessary. 

 

And that’s true of church life. So, the presbytery executive has to meet with a committee trying to sell some church property, and a financial secretary trying to balance a spreadsheet, and a pastor who may fill a vacancy that someone abruptly quit, and so on. In a well-oiled machine, one might imagine that all the mundane stuff is delegated to others. That’s what the Apostles did in Acts 6, when they invented the role of “deacon” out of necessity. But machines are not always well-oiled, and the vicissitudes of life continually get in the way. So, everybody – Jesus, Apostles, presbytery executives, and the rest of us – find ourselves attending to the mundane even if we struggle to see what it has to do with the Reign of God. In the end, even the mundane to do with the Reign of God. 

 

Someone stops by and brings doughnut holes to the church on Sunday mornings. That is a part of the Sunday routine that most of us never think about, but we love the genuine connections that take place when we gather on the patio and visit with one another following worship. The experience of fellowship feels like the Reign of God is present, but if that is true then stopping to get the doughnut holes is a Reign of God thing also. Someone arranges to have the choir robes cleaned on occasion. Someone makes sure that scattered hymnals are put in their proper place between Sunday and Saturday worship. If you’ve walked on it, someone swept or vacuumed it. If you drink it, someone prepared it. The mundane is everywhere and is always important. 

 

So, let me invite you to circle back up to the top of today’s message and ask yourself if you might be someone who can take on the task of assisting with the audio/visual portion of our worship services. Are you someone who might serve on a commission, host a “Life Together” event after Saturday worship, greet people as they enter worship, and so on? There are many mundane tasks that go into participating in the Reign of God, but there are no unimportant ones. So, give it some thought. If God is calling us to do it, then let’s do it well.

 

Thanks for all of you “house elves” out there. We appreciate your faithfulness,

Mark of St. Mark

Are You Saved?

Have you ever been met with the question, “Are you saved?” Lots of Presbyterians fumble for an answer to that question, perhaps mumbling something about their participation in church, their confirmation experience, or something like that. If you’re one of those folks who can never find a satisfactory response to that question, you are in very good company. The truth is, for many Christians it is an ill-fitting question. But, of course, it is not an ill-fitting question for everyone. 

Take the Apostle Paul, for example. He had an experience on the road to Damascus that very dramatically changed the entire direction of his life. He was on that road because he had gotten papers authorizing him to find followers of Jesus and bind them and bring them back to Jerusalem to face the Sanhedrin. By the time his experience was over, he went from being a persecutor of the church to a zealous leader of the church. That is such a dramatic experience that he changed his name and had to be introduced to many Christian communities by a friendly face because they knew of his previous actions. 

Paul’s “Damascus Road” experience has often been lifted up as the norm of the Christian experience – the kind of 180-degree turnaround that is captured in the lyrics, “I once was lost, but now I’m found, was blind but now I see.” Please allow me to say that if you are someone who persecutes Christians (Paul oversaw the first Christians martyr’s death!), you do need to get saved! Do it now, man, that stuff is so wrong! But, if you are someone whose imperfections and misdeeds are a far cry from Paul’s early experience, then maybe Paul’s conversion experience is not the model you are looking for. And although we can all be rather wretched at times, perhaps “Amazing Grace” isn’t really the song that captures your own story. And I have known people for whom a 180-degree turnaround in their life was exactly what saved them from self-destruction and their way of being lost or feeling separated from God. It happens. 

But grace doesn’t happen to everyone that way and there are plenty of other biblical stories that can serve as better models for our Christian experience. Think of Timothy, to whom two letters in the New Testament are addressed. The writer says, “I am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that lived first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I am sure, lives in you.” Now, here’s someone whose faith journey looks a lot more like mine – a generational follower of Christ who inherited a sincere faith from his family. I cannot think of any period of my life – no matter how imperfect much of it has been – when I did not know God’s love and grace made known in Jesus Christ. Whatever doubts I carry, I’ve never known a time when I didn’t have some deep and abiding sense that life has divine, loving purpose. 

I have had moments in my life when I was (or, at least I hope I was) changed significantly. My upbringing and some of my worst tendencies would make it very easy for me to be incredibly judgmental of anyone who is not in a straight, monogamous marriage. It would be very easy for me to continue ignoring systemic racism and pretend that the sins of the past were just because of a few very bad or misguided people. It would be easy for me to think that anyone struggling with poverty, addictions, or a life that seems unrooted are solely responsible for their condition and simply need to be “saved.” I was well-trained in those habits of mind and while there may be some slivers of truth in them, they were parts of my identity from which I needed to be transformed if I were to have what Paul called “the mind of Christ.” So, yes, I’ve been saved – if that’s the language someone needs – many times! And I am still in need of saving. 

In Romans 12, Paul writes, “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your minds.” There are two imperatives in that sentence, but oddly for imperatives they are both passive. To “be conformed to this world” is to be shaped by the presumptions, prejudices, and outlook that we inherit from living in a world that does not follow God’s will. To “not be conformed to this world” means to actively resist what seems to come naturally to us in our culture. And to “be transformed” – as both passive and as an imperative – means to open ourselves to God’s grace, which will give us a whole new outlook. To me, this is what “being saved” is all about. Being saved from becoming selfish, spiteful, exclusive, and all the things that come easily from our culture. And being saved to having a mindfulness about life that is shaped by the life, teachings, death, and resurrection of Christ. 

“Are you saved?” can be a challenging question. Perhaps our best response can be, “By grace, often.” 

Mark of St. Mark

 

The Past Is Forgiven; the Future Is Open

One of the most effective Young Church moments I ever witnessed was when a mother with two children talked about their family’s nighttime routine. She or her spouse would sit on the side of each child’s bed and talk about their day – what went well, what did not go well, etc. – and say a prayer after. Then, especially on days that had been very challenging for the children or the parents, she would tell them that tomorrow would be a new day, a time to begin anew, and all is forgiven. It was a nighttime routine that embraced the words we heard last Sunday during worship, “The past is forgiven and the future is open.” And that’s how I invite you to embrace the beginning of this new year. 

 

The past is forgiven – that’s an interesting phrase. The word “forgiveness” itself is quite interesting. The Greek term ἀφίημι that is sometimes translated “forgiveness” in the New Testament is actually a very versatile word. It can be translated as leave, forgive, allow, forsake, put away, send away, divorce, lay aside, let go, or yield up, depending on the context. Translators simply have to do their best with it, since translation is also interpretation. I’ve notice that if the word “evil” or “sin” is anywhere nearby, translators tend to go straight to “forgive.” I wish they could be a bit more reflective on it. Nonetheless, the thread of continuity among all the potential translations is that ἀφίημι involved letting go of something. 

 

So, when we say “The past is forgiven,” what might we mean by it? The phrase many of us have been taught to say it that we need forgiveness for “things done and left undone in thought, word, and deed.” There is a lot of wisdom in that phrase, but I think we often hear it too narrowly. What if the word “forgiven” is secondarily about our life experience on an individual level, but primarily about the life we have together. If, for example, someone we love has mistreated us and we are harboring pain over it, for that past to be “forgiven” does not mean that we are assuming fault, but that we are letting it go, or at least bracketing it into its proper place, rather than letting it destroy us any further. Or, if we live in a system that benefits some and punishes others, to say the past is “forgiven” can we a way of being liberated from simply accepting injustice as “the way it is” and to allow for new possibilities. In each case, the connection between the past being “forgiven” and the future being “open” is powerful. 

 

So, how might we live into the phrase, “The past is forgiven and the future is open”? On an individual level, I pray that you will find ways to be as forgiving of yourself as God is of you. Whether it is something “done or left undone in thought, word, or deed,” or whether it is a hurt that you have suffered that has taken the wind out of your sails, God is a renewing God, ever ready to give a new beginning. On a congregational level, I pray that we can be as forgiving of one another as God is of us. If you are someone who has had to pull back from the community – perhaps driven by doubt or disagreement or simply not ready to be in close quarters with the coronavirus still at large – here’s what I want you to know. No one has to stop and grovel at the door. It is there for you to enter joyfully and you will be joyfully received. And on a communal level, I pray that we will be liberated from some of our more ungraceful, unmerciful habits of mind and begin to find beautiful ways to live in harmony with the earth and with one another. May the past be forgiven and our collective minds freed to think anew about what it means to be human in the 21^st century. 

 

No doubt you can imagine other ways of living into the phrase, “The past is forgiven and the future is open.” I invite you to do so. And please, feel free to send me your thoughts on the matter so that I can benefit from your insights. 

 

The past is forgiven and the future is open, 

Mark of St Mark