Epiphany: Power and Prayer

In the church calendar, Epiphany is the remembrance of the coming of the magi.

 

Massacre of the Innocents,
Bertram of Minden, Hamburg, c1400

The giving of strange gifts.

The slaughter of the innocents.

The star shining in the darkness drew inquirers from afar to confront the darkness of Herod’s ruthless power. While Joseph and Mary, warned by an angel, traveled on to Egypt, their sisters were left weeping for their tiny sons sacrificed to Herod's unhinged pride. 

Epiphany reminds us: there are times when the spiritual world leans in.

Times when the course of life is changed.

Times when invisible power is visibly on display.

For me, Epiphany happens most often in church, when I catch a glimpse of God's grace flowing through us. We don't bring it, we don't make it. Yet when we reach out our arms to embrace the weary or wounded, God's grace flows in us, through us, around us, in ways that can leave me fighting back tears, or so shaken I need to kneel in prayer until God steadies me.

But the spiritual world is not just grace and light and angels singing.

Epiphany reminds us. This intervention cuts two ways.

There are darker forces: principalities and powers. Systems of oppression with a spiritual reality so strong it can make your skin crawl.

I've felt it on street corners in Kensington, where I worked with kids whose parents were trapped by addiction and depression and generational anger.

But I've also felt it on the green manicured lawns of a hotel complex in State College. I went there to take part in an early frackingprotest. A natural gas conference was underway inside. I remember watching participants watch us through a hotel window, catching the eye of one of the leaders, a man I later learned was CEO of one of the most flagrant abusers of lax regulation. There was a look in his eyes of such unbridled power, such unfettered greed, such infinite disdain, I had to look away.

That look has haunted me.

What nexus of evil can take a human soul past normal moral restraint?

What whispered lies can convince a loosened conscience that power is all that matters?

What weapons do people of truth hold to ease the grip of systemic oppression, manipulative distortion, unrestrained grasping for privilege, power and gain?

That will be the question for 2017, played out on a global, national, local, personal level.

For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realm. 

I grew up in a household where I walked this struggle daily.

The day started with my grandfather's bellowed profanity as he rattled from locked room to locked room, a large, loud man, always angry, often drunk, a powerful force of darkness held hostage by darker forces more powerful than he.

And at the kitchen table, my much smaller grandmother: Bible open, pencil in hand, looking for wisdom and strength for the day ahead. Probing God's promises of provision.

C. S. Lewis' Chronicles of Narnia put the story into form I could understand even as a child: Edmund, held hostage by the icy snow queen Jado. Peter and Susan, trying to make sense of things with their own native strength and wisdom. Lucy (that was me) certain the only solution was to wait for Aslan, find Aslan, use whatever tools he gave as bravely and faithfully as a younger sister could.

I'm still Lucy, still watching the battles around me play out.

Still watching and wary when I see that look of power and pride that is certain evidence of alignment with evil.

Still willing and ready to confront the enemy with whatever unexpected tools I'm given.

Like Lucy, wandering through the wardrobe to an unexpected world of drama and intrigue, I've wandered through an open door into a political realm I was  not prepared for.

I've described some of that journey in earlier posts: my slow awakening to systemic injustice, my growing awareness of the need for political engagement.

For several years now I've been trying to sound an alarm: there's a dangerous struggle underway. We need to be on guard.

Like Lucy's dismissive siblings, friends and family have shrugged off my concerns: enjoy your hobby. We have better things to do.

But evil is leaning in around us: grave brokenness in our political structures.  Ridicule of women's voices. Loosening restraint on racist harassment. A gathering storm of wealth and power unmoved by human sorrow.

While children die in Syria, families huddle on makeshift boats in icy Mediterranean waters, strongmen boast of nuclear power, the lovely modernist myth of progress lies trampled in the mud.

We are not the first generations to face times of uncertainty, fear, rising hatred, unprincipled power.

Like generations before us, we have the same choices:

Pretend there's no need for concern.

Retreat and hope for a better day.

Watch in silence as history unfolds.

Or prepare for the challenge and learn to stand firm.

The apostle Paul, writing from prison in Rome to Christians facing danger and division, reminded the believers in Ephesus: 

For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realm.
 Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace.
 In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. 

And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests.

 There's no way to know where this next year will take us.

We are in uncharted waters.

The largest discrepancy ever between popular vote and elected president.

Unprecedented financial entanglements.

Wealthiest cabinet ever, with less education, less government experience and less diversity than recent cabinets and unexplored ties to international corporations and white supremacist groups. 

A public alarmed, aware, on guard.

 

We all have a place in this next chapter of the story.

More than ever, we will need to arm ourselves with truth.

We will need to grow deeper in discernment, more able to recognize lies.

We will need to talk more honestly with our children, our grandchildren, about our everyday choices: kindness in the face of unkindness. Courage in the face of bullying. Resolute resistance to racist jokes, sexist comments, homophobic language.

More than ever, we will need to use what privilege we have to pry the door open for those closed out.

To be messengers of good news.

Agents of light and love.

Looking forward to the work of the year ahead, I wrap myself in prayer. 

We are not equal to the task, yet we've been told to pray on all occasions, for all requests, all needs, all troubles.

My own work on redistricting reform has led me down paths I would not have imagined. The challenges each day are beyond my experience or wisdom. Unexpected opportunities demand unexplored resources. 

The same is true for all of us. We wrestle with forces far beyond us: powers of this dark world, spiritual forces of evil.

Yet the power at work within us, through prayer, obedience and faith, is greater.

In that same letter to the Ephesians Paul wrote: 

I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people, and his incomparably great power for us who believe. That power is the same as the mighty strength he exerted when he raised Christ from the dead. 

I pray that we live in that space this year: in the knowledge of hope, the riches of faith, the great power at work within us, far greater than any power of evil or death.

Please pray for me, as I will pray for you.

Gentile da Fabriano, Flight to Egypt, 1423, Strozzi Altarpiece

Earlier Epiphany posts: 

A Jungle Gym Epiphany, Jan 10, 2016
What I'd Give You, Jan 3, 2016
Epiphany and Filoxenia, Jan4, 2015
Balaam's Oracle, Magis' Star, Jan 5, 2014

Defending the Indefensible

I've been struggling this week with a bad case of anger.

I’ve been taking deep breaths.

Sitting outside, staring at the sky.

Praying. Reading the psalms.

Reading and rereading the psalms.

I’m normally fairly good at deflecting anger.

Good at putting it in a cupboard somewhere in my mind and locking the door until I have time to process.

Good at turning the other cheek, smiling a little more brightly.

 

Shaking it off.

Letting it go.

This week?

Not so much.

Did I mention it was International Day of the Girl on Tuesday?

It was the day the UN invites us to think about girls around the globe. The hazards they face. The struggle to learn, to grow, to thrive, to live.

I was planning to post this week about abortion. Did you know that the leading cause of death for girls 15 to 19 – worldwide –is suicide?

Until 2015 the leading cause of death was pregnancy. That’s still the case in developing countries, but globally it’s tilted toward suicide.

There’s a sad story there.

A story about a world that sees girls’ bodies as objects to be used while stepping down hard on the dreams and sorrows inside.

Somehow the Day of the Girl and Michelle Obama’s celebration of the accompanying Let Girls Learn campaign were drowned out in the media storm surrounding Donald Trump’s odious tape.

And the attendant swirl of denouncement, defense, endorsement, unendorsement.

And the recurrent theme of women stepping forward to say things they'd said before but no one seemed to hear, or things they never said because they feared no one would listen.

I’m not surprised at all by Donald Trump.

Anyone who has spent a few honest hours trying to understand him should know that his character was formed by a father who trained him to “be a killer, be a king.” He spent his formative years in a military academy where he devoured Playboy and bragged about his conquests, then was mentored by Roy Cohn, a man who spent his career destroying the lives of friend and foe alike. 

Despite assertions that he's changed, converted, adopted Christian values, his rude remarks to others and boasts about his own wealth and power are consistent with troubling stories about him dating back decades. 

The Choice 2016: Frontline investigates what has
 shaped Donald Trump and Hillary Clinton 

Nothing Donald Trump does could surprise me.

What surprises me, angers me, grieves me to the core is the support and defense he continues to receive from people I have respected.

“It’s just words. He never did those things.”

“He’s apologized. Move on.”

“It’s just how men are. It’s no big deal.”

“Hillary’s no saint.”

You want to understand rape culture? There it is. Normalized, excused, condoned, deflected.

Maybe I spent too many years as a camp counselor, listening to girls share their grief and sorrow.

Or as a Girl Scout leader. 

Youth minister.

Or as a sister, neighbor, friend.

I have heard too many stories. Seen too much hurt.

Felt some of my own.

The teacher who focused sexual attention on a new senior girl every year and everyone knew and no one did a thing.

The boss who draped his arm around his girl cashiers, dangling his hand wherever it wanted to land, blowing cigar smoke in their faces.

The girls who lived in houses with men who stopped by their beds when the house was quiet.

The girl whose father and brothers touched and talked about her in public the way Trump touches and talks about Ivanka.

The women struggling to build careers in offices where the only avenue forward took a detour through the bedroom.

No big deal?

Everyone does it?

No.

Good men are appalled.

Decent men recoil.

I watched the debate Sunday evening and was struck, as were many, by the way Trump paced the stage while Hillary Clinton was talking. He threatened her with jail, interrupted her repeatedly and stood behind her, grimacing, while she spoke.

I’m not sure I’ve ever heard anyone as boastful as Trump.

Or as willing to lie about everyone and everything.

Or as deliberately, intentionally menacing.

His behavior – even on stage, even during a presidential debate – reminds me of all the times and ways girls I love, women I respect have been shut down, scared into silence.

Demeaned.

Dismissed.

Diminished.

For women and girls, it’s often lose-lose.

Speak in a soft voice when you’re trying to lead?

You clearly don’t have what it takes to be up front, to command attention, to be in charge.

Speak firmly and clearly in a no-nonsense voice?

You’re too masculine. Or too harsh. Too "strident." Have you ever heard a man called "strident"?

What if you disstance yourself from a husband who betrays and wounds you?

You clearly don’t respect marriage. You don’t understand forgiveness.

But if you defend and look for ways to preserve your marriage despite lies and infidelity?

You make yourself responsible for the very sins that harmed you. Tarred with the same fat, slimy brush.

As I said, I’ve been reading the Psalms.

The word that’s been speaking to me is “vile.”

On Tuesday, angry and grieving, I found myself in Psalm 12: 

Help, Lord, for no one is faithful anymore;those who are loyal have vanished from the human race.Everyone lies to their neighbor;they flatter with their lipsbut harbor deception in their hearts.. . . You, Lord, will keep the needy safeand will protect us forever from the wicked,who freely strut aboutwhen what is vile is honored by the human race. 

I’ve been troubled this week by the image of Trump, freely strutting about, rousing his followers to cheers and chants, bragging about assault then saying it’s all lies, honored and endorsed by those who should know better.

It’s alarming to see, still, men and women who claim to be followers of Christ trying to link their cause to that of Donald Trump.

Psalm 101:3 says: 

I will not look with approval on anything that is vile. I hate what faithless people do; I will have no part in it. 

Last week a group of evangelical leaders launched an open letter and petition making clear that they want no part in Trump or his campaign. It says, in part: 

Mr. Trump has fueled white American nationalism with xenophobic appeals and religious intolerance at the expense of gospel values, democratic principles, and important international relationships. He mocks women and the sanctity of marriage vows, disregards facts and the accountability to truth, and worships wealth and shameful materialism, while taking our weakening culture of civility to nearly unprecedented levels with continuing personal attacks on others, including attacking a federal judge based purely on his Mexican heritage, mocking a disabled reporter, and humiliating a beauty pageant winner for her weight and Latina ethnicity—to give just a few examples.

Because we believe that racial bigotry has been a cornerstone of this campaign, it is a foundational matter of the gospel for us in this election, and not just another issue. This is not just a social problem, but a fundamental wrong. Racism is America's original sin. Its brazen use to win elections threatens to reverse real progress on racial equity and set America back. 

Donald Trump's campaign is the most recent and extreme version of a history of racialized politics that has been pursued and about which white evangelicals, in particular, have been silent. The silence in previous times has set the environment for what we now see.

For this reason, we cannot ignore this bigotry, set it aside, just focus on other issues, or forget the things Mr. Trump has consistently said and done. No matter what other issues we also care about, we have to make it publicly clear that Mr. Trump’s racial and religious bigotry and treatment of women is morally unacceptable to us as evangelical Christians, as we attempt to model Jesus’ command to “love your neighbors as yourself.”

Whether we support Mr. Trump’s political opponent is not the question here. Hillary Clinton is both supported and distrusted by a variety of Christian voters. We, undersigned evangelicals, simply will not tolerate the racial, religious, and gender bigotry that Donald Trump has consistently and deliberately fueled, no matter how else we choose to vote or not to vote.

 A group of 700 evangelical women leaders signed their own short letter expressing concern:

As Christian women we are appalled by Republican presidential nominee Donald Trump's recorded remarks that disparage women and condone sexual assault. Such language cannot be dismissed as “locker room talk.” Mr. Trump must offer public contrition that fully acknowledges the seriousness and depravity of his actions. 

The sin of misogyny has caused many of us to experience sexual assault or sexually abusive language that threatened our safety, dignity and well-being. Christian leaders cannot condone such violent speech about women as a minor mistake or an innocent attempt to be “macho." 

Even now, there are still many who embarrass themselves and the name of Christ by defending the indefensible, still insisting that a man unable to keep a contract, respect an opponent or speak the truth would be a suitable leader.

I understand concerns about Hillary Clinton. I am not endorsing her or singing her praises.

I am also not claiming God has appointed her as savior of our nation. Not promoting prophecies that she’s our only hope. 

Any who make those claims for Donald Trump need to read through the many many Old Testament passages warning about false prophets, warning that God’s people delude themselves when they align themselves with political power then prophecy God’s approval. 

There are no sinless candidates in this election.

No pure party. 

No one free of baggage.

But that doesn’t excuse our inability to discern.

Or the tragic damage to the name of Christ when linked with Donald Trump's.

One more passage from my study of the word "vile", from Ezekiel 16:49-51. Make of it what you will:

Samaria did not commit half the sins you did. You have done more detestable things than they, and have made your sisters seem righteous by all these things you have done. Bear your disgrace, for you have furnished some justification for your sisters. Because your sins were more vile than theirs, they appear more righteous than you. So then, be ashamed and bear your disgrace, for you have made your sisters appear righteous.

This post is part of a continuing series on What's Your Platform 

Beyond the Party Platform July 24, 2016

A Different Way July 31, 2016 

Election Fraud and Rigged Elections, August 10, 2016 

How Long Will the Land Lie Parched? August 21, 2016 

Walls, Welcome, Mercy, Law August 28, 2016

Workers and Their Wages, Sep 3, 2016 

Educating Ourselves On Education, Sep 10, 2016 

Let's Talk, Sep 17, 2016

The Language of the Unheard, Sep 24, 2016

Maintain Justice, October 9, 2016