“The God of Paradox is at Work”
“God,
who is preached and represented in this world by the One who was crucified and
rose from the dead, is the God of paradox: what people consider wise He
considers folly, what people regard as madness He considers strength, what
people consider great He sees as small, and what they find small He regards as
great.”
- Tomáš Halík
After months
of quarantine, stay-at-home orders, closed businesses, Church By Phone and Communion
on Facebook, most of us have long since grown tired of Covid-19 and are
desperate to move into the “new normal,” whatever that is going to look like.
After all of the suffering and loss endured by the people of our region, our local
leaders have moved cautiously and sometimes, as in the case of indoor dining,
changed course, despite public pressure and the significant economic impact.
Elsewhere in the country, as I’m sure you know, many leaders failed to learn
from our painful experience, reopening too quickly and widely with predictably
devastating consequences. We may be tired of the virus, but it seems the virus
is not tired of us.
While eager
to welcome as many of you as possible back to church, the leadership of our congregation
is choosing to be cautious, not so much out of fear but out of love for one
another. So, in-person worship and other events will resume no sooner than the
first week of August. I know this is disappointing to many (and maybe a relief
to others), but I hope that we will continue to look for the gifts that God
continues to give us during this strange and difficult time.
God is the
God of paradox. God sees the world in a downside-up way, and acts accordingly.
So, in God’s view – in God’s “kingdom” – it’s the poor and the mournful and the
suffering people who are the blessed ones. The God of paradox comes among us as
a “nobody” born in the humblest of circumstances, raised in a small town not
known for producing much good, and whose life and mission seemed to end as a
miserable failure. But, as the theologian James Cone writes, when all hope
seemed to be lost, God took the cross, “a symbol of death and defeat” and
“turned into a sign of liberation and new life.”
God is the
God of paradox. Our Christian faith is built on paradox, calling us to take up
our cross, insisting that we must give up our life in order to save it. In the
gospel lesson we will hear this Sunday, Jesus declares that God hides the truth
from those who think they are wise and reveals it to “infants.” If church has always been part of our lives, if
we think we’ve somehow “figured out” Christianity, all of this paradox may be hidden
from us, fading into the background of our faith and our lives,
preventing us from seeing things as they really are.
But, God does
not miss an opportunity! And, I believe God is hard at work, rearranging our
vision, helping us to see the world through God’s eyes, inviting us to see –
and maybe even help build – a downside-up world during this time of paradox.
So, in the
eyes of the world, right now the church looks awfully weak. Never in our long
history has the church been closed for more than a week or two, usually due to
bad weather. Now, as you know, we haven’t been able to gather in-person since
March. And yet, when we might expect that our bonds of commitment would have
started to weaken, we have in fact grown even stronger. Way more of us are
praying “together” during the week and on Sundays, and it sure sounds to me
like we are praying with more depth and fervor than when we were sitting in our
pews. The God of paradox is at work in this time of paradox.
Across our
country, longstanding injustices are being exposed and long-demanded changes
that used to seem just too hard to tackle are falling with little resistance.
Statues of Confederate leaders (usually erected decades after the Civil War in
an effort to rewrite history and to intimidate Black people) have been swiftly
removed and hauled away. After years of stubborn resistance, the Mississippi
legislature quickly voted to remove Confederate imagery from the state flag. And,
it’s not just symbols, as important as they are. More people are looking
carefully at government budgets, calling for resources to be shifted from the
police (who, as Jon Stewart recently said, for too long have been asked to do
more than they can manage, in effect serving as a kind of border patrol between
the “two Americas,” the haves and the have-nots) to people and programs with a
better chance at actually fixing our deep-seated problems. And, maybe most
paradoxical of all, during a time when one would expect people to be circling the
wagons and only looking out for themselves and those they love, it’s like our
hearts have finally been cracked open and many more of us are able to empathize
with the suffering and oppressed. The God of paradox is at work in this time of
paradox.
And on Monday
evening, several local pastors and I took to the Internet for a frank, and
sometimes uncomfortable, conversation about racism and the church. I doubt that
we would have had this discussion during normal times when we all would have
been caught up in our daily routines and the usual demands of leading our
churches. (Or, I should just speak for myself: I would have tried to use the
excuse of busyness to avoid having this discussion.) But, it was during this time
when we are apart that about 1,200 people (!) came together to watch us, and
more have been catching up with the recording. Why did so many tune in? I’m
sure there was some curiosity and maybe a sense of obligation to support the
pastors, but I suspect that many recognized that this is a different kind of
time when God is rearranging our vision, helping us to see the world through
God’s eyes.
So, although
it’s hard to be patient during this difficult and frightening time, God is not
missing an opportunity to give us some unexpected but much-needed blessings. As
we wait for the reopening of our church building, the God of paradox invites us
to be even closer together while we are still apart, to continue opening our
hearts and our eyes, and to help build the downside-up world that God has seen
and hoped for all along.