Deep Darkness

Deep Darkness

Isaiah 9:1-7; Matthew 4:12-23[1]

Most of us who have any experience with life know that hardship comes to us all. We all have our share of suffering. It may appear that some are spared that common lot of humanity, but the reality is that everyone carries some kind of burden. But there is one kind of suffering many of us have never known: systemic injustice. That’s what people experience when they don’t have opportunities, or they aren’t treated fairly, or their rights as human beings are denied them. And it happens not because of anything they have done wrong, but simply because of who they are: their gender, their race, their ethnic background, their faith. I think it may be difficult, if not impossible, for many of us even to imagine what that’s like. I know it is for me.

But make no mistake about it: there is oppression all around us. Working people who simply don’t make enough money live in their cars with their families, or in worse conditions out of sight of most of us. Young women are abducted and made into slaves by human traffickers. Students whose whole lives are ahead of them become convinced that they have nothing to live for, in part because of the constant pressure. And people who don’t happen to be of European descent are judged to be suspicious and even dangerous by those of us who are, simply because of the color of their skin or the country of their origin, not based on the quality of their character. We live in a land of deep darkness!

The prophet Isaiah spoke of Judea as a “land of deep darkness.” His people faced threats all around them—most immediately from the northern kingdom of Israel and their allies in Syria. But more significantly at home their leaders—kings and priests and prophets alike—ignored God’s justice and ruled the people based on their own self-interest. And the end result was that the people lived under the yoke of oppression. They lived in a world where might made right. The wealthy and powerful were the ones who called the shots. On a whim they could have anyone thrown into prison without any kind of fair trial. Rather than looking forward to their “day in court,” the most likely outcome was that would simply be forgotten, left to rot and die. They lived in a land of deep darkness.

But Isaiah did not face this darkness with the resignation of despair. He saw a light on the horizon. He knew that God is above all faithful to his people. He also believed that God had promised to send one who would lift the burden of oppression and the yoke of bondage from his people, just as God had once before done for the Jewish people enslaved in Egypt. Unfortunately, in our day we have missed the point of this promise. Like many Christians before us, we cannot read this passage without thinking of Christmas, and the birth of Jesus. Now I will be among the first to agree that Isaiah’s beautiful poetry is a fitting description of Jesus and his ministry. But speaking 700 years before Jesus was born, it’s unlikely that Isaiah was thinking in the first place about Jesus. He had in mind someone who would deliver the Jewish people from the oppression they suffered in his day. He was looking for light that would help those living in darkness at that time.

While we may not be able to know whom Isaiah had in mind when he first spoke these words, we can certainly know what he had in mind. The “light” that Isaiah saw shining in his land of deep darkness was the coming true peace and true justice to his people. They would be delivered from their oppressors and set free from their chains. And the end result would be that they could live and thrive and rejoice like people gathering an abundant harvest. They would live without the fear of violence or the fear of injustice or the fear of the heartless cruelty that could at any moment strip them of all they held dear. They would be free. And the hope of that freedom was a light shining for them in the midst of the deep darkness they had endured.

Again, I have to say that many of us cannot even begin to imagine living in this situation. And yet, right now, right here in this community, there are people who live in that kind of darkness. As hard as it is to admit it, a part of the story of the founding of our society is about violence and systematic injustice that persists to this day. [2] Many believed they had a God-given right to take the land from the nations who were here before us. They justified that blatant injustice with an ideology that they were “savages.” And that ideology was applied to Africans who were enslaved against their will. And to people of other ethnic backgrounds who came to this land seeking freedom. And in our time we see it in the way we can still assume that those who are different from us are suspicious and possibly dangerous. Whether we see it or not, whether we want to admit it or not, we still live in a land of deep darkness

What does our faith offer us in the face of such overwhelming suffering? The light of hope. We have the hope that one day God’s name will be hallowed on earth as it is in heaven and God’s kingdom will come on earth as it is in heaven and God’s “fair, merciful, and loving” purpose will be done on earth as it is in heaven! And that means a day when all cruelty is undone and all violence is banished and all injustice is removed. In the face of the darkness that can be very deep indeed for many in our world today, we have the hope that “the zeal of the Lord of hosts” will continue to bring light into our world, until there is no more darkness. But in order for us to experience God’s freedom and light, we have to first acknowledge the darkness that still affects those whose voices we have long ignored.

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[1] © 2020 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 1/26/2020 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] Among other sources, these thoughts are in part based on an interview of Brian Stevenson by Terry Gross on “Fresh Air,” January 20, 2020.

Enemies No More

Enemies No More

Matthew 5:38-48[1]

We as a people seem to have a “terrible love of violence.”[2] Many of us have grown up watching TV programs and movies that are essentially based on the premise that there are “good guys” and “bad guys” in the world. And the natural instinct is that we want the “good guys” to win—even if it means using violence. We have been taught to believe in what one scholar has called the “Myth of Redemptive Violence.”[3] We’ve seen the story played out hundreds of times: the “bad guys” threaten innocent people; the “good guys” confront them; the “good guys” overcome the “bad guys” through some kind of violence; and the innocent people can live their lives in peace as a result.

This idea is something that is so ingrained in us that we believe it with the fervor of religious faith: when our safety is threatened, it takes some kind of violence to restore it. Whether that violence may take the form of war, or execution, or the excessive use of force, we believe it is the only way to ensure our safety. And yet the truth that has been repeated to our deaf ears throughout the ages is that violence can never overcome violence.[4] It’s like a virus: when we use violence of any kind it only breeds more violence. If we want to know the source of the violence in our society, I think we have to look at the hostility in our own hearts.

Our lesson from the Sermon on the Mount for today is the central text that has inspired a completely different way of being and living with our fellow human beings. Instead of dividing up our world into “us” and “them,” Jesus challenges us to approach the differences between us from the perspective of a basic recognition that we all are children of God. When we look at it from that perspective, there are no more “friends” and “enemies,” but only brothers and sisters in the one human family.

This section of the Sermon on the Mount continues Jesus’ call to those who would follow him to embrace the values reflected in God’s ways and purposes. In our lesson for today, he continues to teach us that obedience comes from the heart. It might seem initially that Jesus contradicts the teaching that said, “An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.” But actually, he’s following the same pattern as before. We can see this when we realize that “an eye for an eye” did not require retribution, it actually limited the extent of vengeance that was considered appropriate. “An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth” meant that you were not allowed to execute someone for taking an eye. If you did take revenge, its extent was to be limited by the extent of the injury.

The way in which Jesus goes to the heart of this matter is to teach those who would follow him not to take revenge at all. He says it this way, “Do not resist an evildoer” (Matt. 5:39). That might seem confusing on the surface of things. How can we not “resist an evildoer”? If we see someone committing a crime, or endangering a life, surely we have a responsibility to prevent it. But that’s not the kind of “resistance” Jesus was talking about. As the examples he uses make clear, he was talking about not retaliating against those who insult or humiliate or attack us personally. We’re not to take revenge against those who treat us wrongfully.

Many have debated whether Jesus’ surprising instructions here are actually practical enough to follow in real life. I would say it’s simple enough to “turn the other cheek”—in principle at least. But how can we give in to an unjust lawsuit or outright abuse by authorities? I think the answer lies in that Jesus was, to some extent, speaking ironically. The strategies he proposes are meant to shame and even ridicule the one who is in the wrong. This can be seen with the lawsuit over garments. What we may not realize is that to literally do what Jesus recommends would leave a man standing naked in court. But the point was that such an action would shame the person who failed to recognize the dignity of a brother by taking advantage of him in the first place.

All of this leads up to what Jesus has to say about the great commandment, “you shall love your neighbor as yourself.” We find many ways to limit the concept of our “neighbor” to those who are like us. But Jesus makes it clear that truly following this commandment means loving those who are different. It even means loving those whom we may consider our “enemies.” The most important reason for this is that it’s the way God treats people.[5] We’re to love others in the same way as our heavenly Father, without making distinctions between “us” and “them,” or “friends” and “enemies.”[6]

One consequence of our belief in violence as a means of ensuring our safety is that we tend to see the world in terms of “good guys” and “bad guys,” “friends” and “enemies.” Unfortunately, when we do that we fail to recognize that approaching our world in that way leaves us not with more safety, but with less. I think one of the easiest ways to reveal the error in that mindset is by asking “Whom would Jesus consider an ‘enemy’?” As Jesus pointed out, God pours out the blessings of his love on all people equally. As people who seek to follow Jesus, we can do no less. At the heart of his challenging teaching is the call to “see that every human face is the face of a neighbor.”[7] When we really take that challenge to heart, we can only respond to others as friends, with love. When we follow Jesus, we can be “enemies” no more.

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[1] ©2017 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 2/19/2017 at Hickman Presbyterian Church, Hickman, NE.

[2] I adapted this phrase from James Hillman’s A Terrible Love of War.

[3] Cf. Walter Wink, The Powers that Be, 42-43, where he describes the “Myth of Redemptive Violence” as “the dominant religion in our society today”! Cf. ibid., 39, where he describes the “domination system” it is intended to support: “unjust economic relations, oppressive political relations, biased race relations, patriarchal gender relations, hierarchical power relations, and the use of violence to maintain them all.”

[4] Cf. Wink, Powers that Be, 134: “violence can never stop violence” because its very success only breeds more violence. See further, Martin Luther King, Jr., Where Do We Go from Here: Chaos or Community? , 67: “Returning violence for violence multiplies violence, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that." Cf. also Dhammapada 5: “Hatred is never appeased by hatred in this world. By non-hatred alone is hatred appeased. This is a law eternal.”

[5] Cf. Davies and Allison, Matthew 1-7, 562, where they say, “To obey Jesus words ... is, therefore, to love utterly: no more can be asked.”  They further observe (p. 563) that “The motivation for being ‘perfect’ in love is grounded in the Father’s ‘perfect’ love, in his giving without measure.”  See further ibid., 560, where they suggest that what actually lies behind the “be perfect” of Mt. 5:48 is the command to “be holy” in Lev. 19:2.

[6] Cf. Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, On Human Dignity: Political Theology and Ethics, 128, where he quotes the 1981 Declaration of Peace by the Society of Protestant Theology: “There are no conflicts of our life, neither personal nor political, which are not embraced by God’s will for peace with human beings and his whole creation. There are no enemies, neither personal nor political, for whom God’s will for peace does not apply.” Cf. also Jürgen Moltmann, Ethics of Hope, 202: “We are not the enemies of our enemies; we are ‘the children of our Father in heaven’, ... . If we do not react to enmity with enmity, we creatively make it possible for our enemies to turn away from their enmity and to enter into the life we share.”

[7] Cf. Henri Nouwen, The Wounded Healer, 41: “compassion … breaks through the boundaries between languages and countries, rich and poor, educated and illiterate. This compassion pulls people away from the fearful clique and into the large world where they can see that every human face is the face of a neighbor.”

Eliminating Hostility

Eliminating Hostility

Ephesians 2:11-18[1]

I’ve spoken before about the concerns I have about the hostility that divides our culture. We’ve seen a little of that over the last few weeks as our nation debates the legacy of oppression and the continued use of a particular flag as a symbol. We’ve seen it in the disagreements over sexual ethics and the morality and legality of marriage. We’ve seen it in the continuing dispute about immigration policy. But these are just the latest expressions of our polarization as a people.[2] When we cannot even discuss the issues that face us without resorting to insults, rage, and even sometimes physical violence, the level of hostility in our society is out of control in my opinion.

As I’ve said before, the really sad part of this is that people who profess to follow Jesus Christ participate in this public brawl. In fact, there are some who claim that God is on their side and feel entirely justified in using hateful words and actions against those with whom they disagree—or worse! I realize that we are all human and our feelings on a matter can get the best of us at times, but I must say I continue to be stunned by the way in which otherwise good and kind Christian people can get riled up at each other. In my opinion, when we let that happen, we are choosing our need to be right over our commitment to Christ and to one another in the Body of Christ.

But the truth is that the community of faith has always faced issues that have been divisive and have even provoke volatile reactions. The world that St. Paul inhabited was just as torn by disunity, strife, and hostility as ours—perhaps more so.  Most if not all the churches of his day were living with the tension between Jewish and Greek and Roman members. If those terms don’t mean much to us today, let me say that they didn’t mix well.[3] From the Jewish perspective, everyone fell into one of two categories.  Either you were one of the Jewish people, who were God’s chosen ones, or you were a Gentile.  Many Jewish people hated and despised Gentiles as “dogs.”  Nor was that kind of thinking limited to the Jewish people.  From the Greek perspective, everyone was either a cultured Greek or a crude barbarian.  And the Romans seemed to think that everyone who wasn’t a Roman was savage and uncivilized. It’s the kind of either/or, all or nothing mindset that says that you’re either one of us, or you’re our enemy.

Into that world, the Apostle Paul proclaimed a message that must have seemed like wishful thinking. He proclaimed the good news that in Christ God has eliminated all the hostilities that divide the human family. In our lesson for today, he approaches the issue from a Jewish perspective.[4] He alludes to the fact that, while Gentiles were permitted to enter the outer courts of the Temple, they were forbidden to go into the inner courts where the Jewish people worshipped.[5] There was literally a “wall” that divided the two groups at the Temple in Jerusalem. But Paul says that through his death and resurrection, Christ “has made both groups into one and has broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility between us” (Eph. 2:14). Despite all the differences and divisions, all the hatreds and hostilities that existed in his world, St. Paul believed that Christ had torn down all the walls that separate the human family.

He went further than that. In his mind, Christ not only “put to death” the hostility that exists between different groups of humanity (Eph. 2:16). He went beyond that and created “one new humanity” by reconciling us all to God. And so the Apostle says that in his death and resurrection, Jesus the Christ has “made peace” for the human family. Indeed, Paul can say, “he is our peace” (Eph. 2:14). Again, in a world that knew precious little peace, St. Paul had the boldness to envision the peace that Christ made for us all, transforming all humanity into one family, united in faith and hope and love. He viewed Jesus’ death as an act of peace overcoming the hostility that infects the human race.  He believed that the peace inaugurated by Jesus Christ could heal the divisions of his world.[6]

I guess the question that faces us in our divided world is whether we believe that Jesus is our peace. We must decide whether we are willing to follow the example of the Apostle Paul in viewing Christ’s death and resurrection as an event that eliminates any reason for continuing to cherish hostility toward other human beings. We have to figure out for ourselves whether we believe that Christ has indeed torn down all the walls that separate the human family. We have to make up our minds as to whether we think that the peace inaugurated by Jesus Christ can heal the divisions of our world.[7]

It’s not an easy question. The hostility that divides our world is deeply entrenched in some cases.[8] Some parts of this human family that St. Paul says Christ has reconciled into one have been at war with each other for centuries. Can we really muster the faith in this day and age to believe that what Jesus Christ did so very long ago can actually make a difference in the hostility that infects us all? I think that’s for each of us to decide. But what is undeniable is that the Scriptures declare that what Christ has done is powerful enough and far-reaching enough to make peace for the whole human family. And we in the church have been entrusted with a special role as God’s agents of peace. We’re called to demonstrate that the peace Christ has made is more powerful than all the hatreds that divide us.[9] We’re called to serve in community with one another in a way that shows what that peace looks like in everyday life. As we do so, bear witness to the day when all hostility will finally be eliminated by our Savior and Lord.

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[1] ©2015 Alan Brehm. A sermon delivered by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 7/19/2015 at Hickman Presbyterian Church in Hickman, NE.

[2] Cf. PBS Newshour, “Pew study finds more polarized Americans increasingly resistant to political compromise,” 12 June 2014; accessed at http://www.pbs.org/newshour/bb/pew-study-finds-polarized-americans-increasingly-resistant-political-compromise/ . One surprising finding is that technology has actually contributed toward our tendency to related only to “people like us.”

[3] Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, The Church in the Power of the Spirit, 120, where he contrasts the Greek concept of friendship, which was based on “the equality of the partners” and was therefore exclusive in nature with Jesus’ friendship which included even the unrighteous and the despised. He says, “Jesus breaks through this closed circle of friendship.” Therefore (p. 121), “Christians must show the friendship of Jesus in openness for others.”

[4] Although I speak of “Paul” as the author of Ephesians, the actual composition of Ephesians was likely more complicated. For example, A. T. Lincoln, Ephesians, 128–129, points out that many believe an original hymn lies behind the affirmations of reconciliation here and in Colossians 1:15-20. In fact they think that the hymn original spoke of Christ’s death reconciling “the two” referring to the two parts of the cosmos: heaven and earth. This might make some sense in light of an observation Jürgen Moltmann makes in The Way of Jesus Christ: Christology in Messianic Dimensions, 282–284 regarding evidence that “cosmic forces” were worshipped in that part of Asia Minor. He says, “Because the worship of cosmic forces was a part of their environment, the Christian congregations in Ephesus and Colossae had apparently found themselves faced with the question about the scope of Christ’s lordship. The Christian answer was that since Christ is the mediator in the creation of these powers, he is also their redeemer, and therefore their true Lord (Eph. 1:21; Col. 2:10).”

^[5] J. R. Wagner, “Piety, Jewish” Dictionary of New Testament Background (C. A. Evans & S. E. Porter, Ed.), 799: Gentiles could and did bring gifts and sacrifices to the temple (Josephus Against Apion 2.5 §48; Jewish War 2.17.3 §§412–14; 5.13.6 §§562–63), though they were prevented from moving beyond the outer court by a barrier carrying a strict warning that to proceed further would result in a death sentence (Josephus Antiquities 15.11.5 §417; Philo Legatio ad Gaium 31 §212; cf. Acts 21:27–29).

[6] Cf. Ralph P. Martin, Ephesians, Colossians, and Philemon, 32: “The apostle’s teaching holds out the hope and prospect of a reconciled, unified, and amicable society, whose microcosm is seen in the church’s worldwide, transnational, and reconciling family.” Cf. also Jürgen Moltmann, Ethics of Hope, 238-39: “In the depths of the paralysing and often deadly conflicts between the peoples, this divine peace already reigns. In the divine depths of the universe, everything is already reconciled. The person who perceives this views his enemies as ‘already reconciled’ and will try to turn the conflict into just community with them.”

[7] Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, On Human Dignity: Political Theology and Ethics, 128, where he quotes the 1981 Declaration of Peace by the Society of Protestant Theology: “There are no dimensions of our life in which we cannot be certain of the peace of God. There are no conflicts of our life, neither personal nor political, which are not embraced by God’s will for peace with human beings and his whole creation. There are no enemies, neither personal nor political, for whom God’s will for peace does not apply.”

[8] Cf. Moltmann, Church in the Power, 186-87, where he suggests that in part the inability to be open and vulnerable to other stems from the compulsion to justify one’s being out of a fundamental insecurity. He contrasts that with the Christian faith in justification by God, which frees us from the burden of self-justification, and grants us the freedom (p. 188) “to recognize the other person in his human dignity and his human rights” and (p. 189) to recognize “the other in his otherness. In this way, the church is to be (p. 188) “a fellowship of the justified who no longer have to justify themselves” and are therefore free from all that divides us from each other.

[9] Cf. Confession of 1967, 9.21-26: “To be reconciled to God is to be sent into the world as his reconciling community. We are entrusted with God’s message of reconciliation and share his labor of healing the enmities which separate us from God and from each other.” Cf. also Henri Nouwen, Here and Now, 109, where he says that a “truly compassionate heart” is “as heart that remains open to all people at all times.”

Vindication

Vindication

Isa 50:4-9; Ps 31; Phil 2:5-11[1]

No discussion of the steps of Christian faith would be complete without acknowledging that it is essentially a decision to follow a man who was ridiculed and executed. It is one of the difficult aspects of our faith, mainly because that man called all who would be his followers to live a life that consists of “dying” for others. Jesus said, “Whoever does not carry the cross and follow me cannot be my disciple.” (Luke 14:27). This is such a prominent feature in the call to discipleship that Jesus gives us that I am astonished that there are people who think that if we follow him our lives will somehow be exempt from suffering.

But suffering is unavoidable for those of us who determine to follow Christ. This is true above all because we live in a world where the principles by which people operate are in direct contradiction to the principles of God’s kingdom. Among the many I could quote are:

• There’s only so much to go around; I’ve got mine and you have to get yours

• I have the right to defend my property even by violence

• Winning is the only thing, nothing else matters

Let’s look at those “standard operating procedures” of our world. The first is the one that says with Roger Waters of “Pink Floyd,” “I’ve got mine, Jack, keep your hands off my stack.”[2] We hear it in different versions these days, like “I’m not responsible for those who can’t stand on their own feet.”[3] But essentially it is the principle that “I’ve got mine, you have to get yours.” But Jesus says, “none of you can become my disciple if you do not give up all your possessions” (Luke 14:33).

The second principle of our world is the one that says, “You can take my gun away from me when you pry it from my cold, dead fingers.” It is the notion that violence is “legitimate” if I’m defending myself.[4] But Jesus condemns the death and destruction violence spreads when he says, “all who take the sword will perish by the sword” (Matt. 26:52).

The third principle is the one that elevates competition and success above everything else. It is the idea that “There are only winners and losers; if you’re not a winner, you’re a loser.” Again, in direct contradiction to the way things work in our world, Jesus says, “those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will save it” (Luke 9:24).

We live in a world where following Christ—really following Christ and not just “playing” at discipleship—means that we must inevitably experience the “contradiction” of the world in which we live.[5] We should expect ridicule and humiliation, opposition and anger, in response to the principles Jesus articulated. We should expect that if we determine to seek first God’s kingdom and God’s justice (Matt. 6:33),[6] which flies in the face of the vested interests who hold the money and the power and the influence in our world,[7] those who belong to the vested interests will call us things like “fascist” and “communist,” and even worse.

In contrast to the success mentality and prosperity orientation of our world, the Bible speaks of the “servant of the Lord” as one who essentially suffers. If this flies in the face of the standards of this world, it is only another indication of how far the standards of this world miss the mark. In contrast, the God who pours out love in this world, who lavishes us all with the compassion that transforms us into something new, must experience that self-giving as suffering. And so God’s servants are called to suffer because it is the only way to truly fulfill God’s purposes in a world of suffering and injustice.[8] Those who truly seek to follow Christ, who truly seek to serve God’s purposes and to promote God’s kingdom, and who truly seek to align their lives with God’s new creation will inevitably suffer as well.

In our lesson from Isaiah, the way that the servant suffers is by the experience of shame. The servant speaks of being humiliated in his own day and time because he has listened carefully to the message of God’s peace and God’s justice restoring this world, and has sought to teach that message to those around him. And the response of the vested interests of his day was no different from the way the vested interests of our day respond. They attacked him and humiliated him.

I’m not so sure that the humiliation factor is that significant to us. I almost think that discouragement is more of a concern in our experience of suffering for our faith. It is discouraging to continually face the contradiction between our faith and the way the majority of people in our society live. It can be exhausting to swim upstream continually, day after day. I think we can get weary from going against the grain all the time. And exhaustion leads to discouragement—to the cry, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” I think one of the most significant temptations for Christians in this culture is to just give up and go with the majority. It’s hard maintaining the effort of marching to a different tune while everyone around you looks at you like you’re stupid or crazy.

There is a very real sense in which we live our lives in our own “Good Friday” of following Jesus by “carrying the cross” (Luke 14:27). It can be dark and discouraging on Good Friday, but Easter morning is coming, and with it the joy of our “mourning turned into dancing” (Ps. 30:11)! Although it may feel like we are alone when we endure the contradiction of this world, we are not alone—we have the empowering presence of God as well as the support of a community. We really need no other vindication than the knowledge that it is God’s new creation that we are struggling for, and God will win the victory in the end. Therefore we can be confident that “in the Lord your labor is not in vain” (1 Cor. 15:58).[9]

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[1] © 2010 Alan Brehm. A sermon preached by Rev. Dr. Alan Brehm on 3/28/10 at First Presbyterian Church, Dickinson, TX and at A Community of the Servant-Savior Presbyterian Church, Houston, TX.

[2] Lyrics to “Money” from the Album The Dark Side of the Moon (Harvest/Capitol: 1973).

[3]Cf. Darrell Jodock, “Standing with the victims,” The Christian Century, March 22, 1995: one of the implications of following the Christ who was a victim of the “powers” of his day is that “The task of Christians is to keep our attention firmly fixed on those ‘falling through the cracks’ so that there is someone present to watch out for their interests.”

[4] Cf. Walter Wink, The Powers that Be, 42-43, where he describes the “Myth of Redemptive Violence” as “the dominant religion in our society today”! cf. also p. 48-56, where he demonstrates how “Redemptive violence gives way to violence as an end in itself” through Media like TV and film (p. 56). He concludes, “violence can never stop violence” because its very success only breeds more violence (p. 134); on the other hand resisting evil through nonviolent means “never fails, because every nonviolent act is a revelation of God’s new order breaking into the world” (p. 135).

[5] Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, Theology of Hope, 21: "Faith, wherever it develops into hope, causes not rest but unrest, not patience but impatience. It does not calm the unquiet heart, but is itself this unquiet heart in man. Those who hope in Christ can no longer put up with reality as it is, but begin to suffer under it, to contradict it."

[6] For this translation of the well-known verse that usually reads, “seek first God’s kingdom and his righteousness,” see the Revised English Bible and the New Jerusalem Bible, among others.

[7] Cf. Wink, The Powers that Be, 39: he calls this “The Domination System” which he says “is characterized by unjust economic relations, oppressive political relations, biased race relations, patriarchal gender relations, hierarchical power relations, and the use of violence to maintain them all.”

[8] Cf. Wink, The Powers That Be, 124, 134-35.

[9] Cf. Jürgen Moltmann, A Broad Place: An Autobiography, 103-4: “hope for an alternative future brings us into contradiction with the existing present. ...If we had before our eyes only what we see, then we should come to terms with things as they simply are ... . The fact that we don't come to terms with them ... is the unquenchable spark of hope for the fullness of life, for righteousness and justice on the new earth, and for the kingdom of God. That keeps us unreconciled, restless and open for God's great day.”