Not To Oppose Evil Is Itself Evil

American Baptist minister Nathaniel Manderson (whose podcast is humorously entitled “The Beached White Male”) recently wrote an opinion piece for Salon in which he confesses to believing in a literal devil. He says, “Now, to be clear, as a minister who believes in God, I am compelled to believe in the devil. But I see him much more at home within the evangelical movement than in most liberal causes.”

After giving a list of historic church-sponsored terrorism (“the Spanish Inquisition, the Crusades, the history of American slavery, the attempted genocide against Native Americans and the oppression of women”) he says: “All these evils are or were firmly backed by biblical theology — at least, as many Christians understand it — and, in my opinion, are all fully endorsed by the devil himself. This is now true of the evangelical political movement, which I believe is led by the devil and his followers.”

Wow! Why not tell us what you really think, Nate? The truth is I have been thinking along the same lines recently. It seems clear to me that Evangelicalism no longer follows Jesus. Yet I am not ready to say that its complicity with anti-democratic authoritarianism rises to the level of evil. But I can see how it could lead to evil. Evil never looks like evil when it is starting out. This is how good people are drawn into evil. At the beginning evil appears as good.

That is how the serpent sold Eve on the fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. He said the fruit was good, and it looked good to Adam and Eve. The apostle Paul said that the devil comes disguised as a messenger of light, and false apostles masquerade as apostles of Christ.  Religion does not help the matter. As Steven Weinberg said, “With or without religion, good people can behave well and bad people can do evil; but for good people to do evil - that takes religion.”

The Salon article caused me to consider anew what we mean by the word evil. It is a concept that is misused and misunderstood. Some see evil as a personal force in the universe, in the form of the devil and his demons, which are understood to be real entities. That is how Reverend Manderson experiences evil. Others see evil as simply the absence of good.

I see both good and evil as aspects of the dualistic realm of human existence. Yin and yang. Before the universe existed there was no evil. Indeed there was no good either. There cannot be good without something to contrast it with, namely evil. There was only Nondual Reality, which for want of a better term we call God. There is still only this Nondual Reality now for those with eyes to see.

God is beyond good and evil. Yet we call God good and not evil. We equate God with light and not darkness. That is because we have no adequate word for the unicity that transcends and includes duality.

Good and evil came into existence with humans. Christian mythology says it began earlier with a fallen angel named Lucifer, who became known as Satan. But who made the angel? The Creator did, of course! The buck stops at the Boss’s desk. As the Lord says in the Book of Isaiah, “I form the light, and create darkness. I make peace, and create evil. I the LORD do all these things.”

Regardless of the origin of evil, we cannot avoid moral choices in this human lifetime any more than we can avoid light and darkness, pain and pleasure, high and low, right and left. Even when we become conscious of our unconditioned Source, we still live in the human condition. Every day we choose between right and wrong, good and evil. To decide not to choose is itself a choice. Inaction has as many consequences as action.

I wish it were not so. I wish I could wash my hands of the whole matter and deal only with spiritual matters. Not vote, not opine, not think of these matters. I wish I could transcend the dualism of the political and moral landscape and remain blissfully neutral. But neutrality is an illusion. There is no such thing. If we decide not to be involved in political or social causes, that choice has consequences. When neutrality benefits evil, then neutrality is evil.

Life is messy. According to Genesis even the Creator got dirty when he knelt in the soil of the Garden and formed humans from humus. As much as we wish it were otherwise, we cannot remain on the sidelines. Not even by retreating to a monastery. Hence the monk Thomas Merton named his book, “Conjectures of a Guilty Bystander.”

That reality is what led clergyman Dietrich Bonhoeffer to join the German resistance movement against Hitler. He became part of the plot to assassinate the Führer. He concluded: “Silence in the face of evil is itself evil. God will not hold us guiltless. Not to speak is to speak. Not to act is to act.” 

Not to oppose evil is itself evil. But the action must be done from that divine Presence that is beyond good and evil. That is how I approach social ethics from the perspective of Christian nonduality.

 

Christmas Tree Meditation

I put up my Christmas tree the other day, just in time for Advent. I remember when it used to be a real chore. When our children were growing up we used to go to a friend’s tree farm as a family, hunt for exactly the right tree, saw it down, load it on top of our station wagon, and haul it to our house. Then the real challenge began: getting the tree securely mounted on a stand and erected in our living room. Then the decorating would begin. It was an all-day undertaking.

Nowadays I need travel no further than the shed in our backyard, where my miniature artificial tree has been waiting patiently since last Christmas. It used to be the topmost part of a full-size artificial tree. Now this small portion is all I use. It stands about two and a half feet high. The job involves nothing more than making sure it is securely in its base, putting on one string of lights, and placing it on the shelf in our bay window. Voila! A beautiful – and more importantly, an easy – Christmas tree.

I like my tiny tree. Especially as night falls. As I write this, it is dusk. The tree lights are just beginning to shine against the dark background of green boughs. It prompts me to remember the symbolism of Christmas tree lights. They are said to represent the stars that shone in the sky on the night that Jesus was born. The words of the apostle John’s Christmas poem come to mind, “And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”

That is the type of reassurance I need these days. These are dark days. Authoritarianism is growing in our country in the guise of Christian Nationalism. A Christianized form of Sharia law is being promoted by the far right. The history of our country is being rewritten to marginalize democracy and deny the equality of all people. Science is being undermined. Intellectual inquiry is discouraged in favor of indoctrination.

It is a dark time in our nation. It feels like we might be approaching an American “Dark Ages.” A year from now we will know better just how dark, after we learn the results of the 2024 election, and whether they are accepted by the states, the courts, and the people. Right now it is dusk in our land. By next Christmas it may be night. In any case the darkness now feels deep to me. For that reason I look for light in the darkness.

Eighteenth century poet William Cowper wrote a number of well-known hymns. One is entitled “Light Shining out of Darkness.” The opening stanzas say: “God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform; He plants his footsteps in the sea, And rides upon the storm.  / Deep in unfathomable mines, Of never-failing skill, He treasures up his bright designs, And works his sov'reign will. / Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take, The clouds ye so much dread, Are big with mercy, and shall break, In blessings on your head.”

There is a storm coming. I suspect the upcoming presidential election will be the leading edge of the storm, not the end of it. As it approaches I will be looking for God riding upon the storm and working his sovereign will in the midst of it. I look forward to seeing the mercy breaking forth from that storm in divine blessings. I have faith that light shines in the darkness, and the darkness will not overcome it.

 

No, Virginia, These Are Not the End Times

Dear Editor, I am eight years old. Some of my little friends say that we are living in the End Times because of what is happening in Gaza and Israel. The preacher says that if I hear it from the pulpit, it’s so. I’m scared. Please tell me the truth. Is it the End Times?

No, Virginia, your little friends are wrong. So is the preacher. They have been affected by the religious fanaticism of a fanatical age. It pains me to say so, but many Christians today are more influenced by fads, politics and religious tradition than they are by God or Christ.

Preachers say it is “the Last Days” in order to scare you and your friends. They know that if they scare your mommy and daddy, then your family will come to church more and put more money in the offering plate. That way they can make a name for themselves, hoping to one day buy mansions and private jets and be on the president’s Evangelical Advisory Board.

Over a hundred years ago another little girl, also named Virginia, wrote to a newspaper asking if there really was a Santa Claus. The editor wrote back to her and talked about people like your pastor. He wrote: “They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible to their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men’s or children’s, are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.”

No, Virginia, these are not the End Times. Do not let anyone scare you or your little friends or your mommy and daddy. Use your own mind and think for yourself. Trust your own reasoning. The fact that you are asking questions is a very good sign. You are a very brave young lady. There are a lot of adults who are not brave enough to question what they are being taught. Never stop asking questions.

Explore what others think about this topic. Read for yourself what the Bible really says. Ask your parents to read it with you. You will find that there is no mention of Gaza or Russia or a “pre-tribulation rapture.” That is a big, scary idea that a group of people made up a couple of hundred years ago, and a lot of Christians believed them. There is no reason to think it is true.

Trust Jesus more than preachers, Virginia. Trust what he says. When Jesus spoke of the “end of the age” he was talking about his day, not ours. Jesus said that he would be with us always, so you need not be afraid. He taught us that the Kingdom of Heaven does not come with visible signs but is within us.

He told us to love our neighbors, including people who look different from us and who have a religion different from ours. He instructed us to welcome strangers, which was his name for immigrants. Jesus told us to love God and all people.

If you love and not hate, then you will see clearly. Hate and fear confuse the mind. No, Virginia, these are not the end times. There is no need to be afraid. As that editor said long ago, “Thank God! A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, God will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.”

(If you would like to read the original letter to Virginia, published in the New York newspaper The Sun on September 21, 1897, you can access the clipping here.)

Canceling Christmas

Christmas is being canceled in the Holy land. It is the latest casualty of the Gaza War – in addition to the thousands of human victims. Leaders of major Christian denominations in Jerusalem have called on churches to tone down Christmas celebrations in the Holy Land. Instead of joyous public celebrations, they are calling for quiet prayerful observances.

Bethlehem, Nazareth, Haifa, and Jerusalem’s Christian Quarter usually celebrate Christmas with parades, bazaars, street concerts and light decorations. But the Patriarchs and Heads of the Churches in Jerusalem recently issued a statement asking these Christian communities to cancel the large public celebrations. They said that this is a time of “sadness and pain,” and they are calling on Christians to pray for and aid the victims of war. 

I doubt that this is going to put a damper on American celebrations of Christmas. American Christians seem to have forgotten our Christian brothers and sisters in the Holy Land. They do not stand in solidarity with them. Tens of thousands of people came to the March for Israel rally in Washington recently, but you will not see anything like that in support of Christians in the Holy Land. American Christians try to outdo each other in defense of Israel, but they never think of their fellow Christians in harm’s way. They have effectively been canceled.

Christianity in Gaza dates to the fourth century, and Gaza is home to some of the oldest churches in the world. There are one thousand Christian believers living in Gaza today, a tiny fraction of the two million population. On October 19 the third oldest church in the world, Saint Porphyrios Church in Gaza, was damaged by Israeli missiles, killing 18 and injuring 30 Christians. They had taken refuge in the church, thinking it would be safe from attack. There was hardly a peep heard from Christians in America in response.

If the third oldest Jewish synagogue in the world had been bombed with Jews seeking protection inside, there would have been outrage from Jews and Christians. If this had been the third oldest mosque in the world (the Al-Aqsa Mosque in Jerusalem), there would have been an uproar from the Muslim community. But the third oldest church? Ho, hum, who cares! Such is the fate of Christians in the Holy Land. They are the forgotten victims of the decades-old Israeli-Palestinian conflict.

Christians in the Holy Land have been living between a rock and a hard place (the rock of Israelis and the hard place of Muslims) ever since the founding of the modern state of Israel in 1948. Bethlehem and Nazareth used to be majority Christian towns. Christians were the majority when we were there. No longer. Due to systematic prejudice and discrimination, Christians have been forced to emigrate. Now Palestinian Christians are a tiny minority of 180,000 in the land of Jesus’ birth.

I remember fondly my time getting to know the Christian community in the Holy Land while studying for a semester at the Tantur Ecumenical Institute for Theological Research, located on a hill overlooking Bethlehem. My whole family came with me, and we occupied a flat with a balcony overlooking Bethlehem. One of my instructors was a Palestinian pastor named Naim Ateek, who traces his ancestry to the first century followers of Jesus. My daughter’s best friend was a little girl named Maria, who was descended from a Crusader.

We met Christians of Arabic, Jewish, and European heritage. We worshipped at Narkis Street Congregation (at that time it was called Narkis Street Baptist Church) in Jerusalem, a Messianic congregation, where we sang praise to Christ in Hebrew. We worshipped at the Jerusalem Baptist Church where we sang hymns in Arabic. We worshipped at Christ Church in Jerusalem, an Anglican congregation with a menorah on the altar and the Jewish context of the gospel is celebrated. Our daughter took her first communion there, the Sunday after she was baptized in the Jordan River.

Every year we decorate our tree with ornaments from our time in Bethlehem. We erect a crèche purchased at an olive wood workshop on Milk Grotto Street in Bethlehem. Before Israel built the wall around Bethlehem, my family used to regularly walk unhindered from our flat into Bethlehem. There was not even a military checkpoint at that time over thirty years ago. (I have hosted tours of Israel for shorter periods of time since then.) I can still picture the little market near the border where we bought vegetables and bread.

Every Christmas I can smell the scent of incense from within the Church of the Nativity, which we visited often. I remember drinking tea outside the basilica in Manger square. I remember worshipping in Church of Saint Catherine in Bethlehem and visiting the Bethlehem Bible College. We shopped for Christmas gifts at a Christian women’s craft show in Bethlehem. We still use those gifts.

This Christmas I will remember the Christians of the Holy Land, including the Christians in Gaza. While American Christians give each other unneeded gifts, I will donate to relieve the suffering of innocent civilians – Christians, Jews and Muslims – in the Holy Land. I will remember those who observe the holiday “in sadness and pain” in the Holy Land this year. I will speak and pray for peace.

While calloused politicians justify the killing of thousands of civilians as necessary collateral damage in a war against terrorism, I will remember innocent Christians huddling in a church in Gaza, wondering if anybody cares. I will not cancel Christmas, but neither will I forget my brothers and sisters of all faiths in the land where the Prince of Peace was born. As Jesus said, “As you have done it to the least of these, my brothers and sisters, you have done it to me.”

(If you are moved to donate, I consider the most trustworthy organization to be the Red Cross, which is doing heroic work in the war zone of Gaza.)

The Arc of the Universe

In a sermon entitled “Remaining Awake through a Great Revolution,” given at the National Cathedral on March 31, 1968, Martin Luther King, Jr., famously said “We shall overcome because the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.” Dr. King used this quote many times in his ministry, including during the march from Selma in 1965. Barak Obama liked it so much that he had part of the quote woven into the carpet in the Oval Office.

King was paraphrasing an earlier abolitionist preacher. The original words were spoken by Theodore Parker, a Unitarian minister from Lexington, Massachusetts. Parker was an influential transcendentalist who studied at Harvard Divinity School. In an 1853 sermon Parker said: “I do not pretend to understand the moral universe. The arc is a long one. My eye reaches but little ways. I cannot calculate the curve and complete the figure by experience of sight. I can divine it by conscience. And from what I see I am sure it bends toward justice.”

I prefer Parker’s words over King’s and Obama’s abbreviated versions. It is more nuanced. Like Parker I do not pretend to understand the moral universe. My eyes see even less than Parker’s. These days it is difficult to see justice advancing on earth. The arc of American history seems to be bending in the opposite direction. Democracy is waning. Justice is threatened. Truth is discarded for worldly power. American Christianity is devolving into power politics.

For those reasons I do not see the arc of the moral universe bending toward justice in our time. If it is, the curvature of the arc is far longer than I can see. Sometimes I wonder if the universe has a moral bent at all. Perhaps the Yin-Yang symbol of Chinese culture is a better metaphor than the arc. Good and evil, moral and immoral, justice and injustice, fighting with each other - or perhaps dancing with each other - in never-ending cosmic balance.

Yet my Christian tradition teaches that the One who created and guides the universe is just. The Hebrew prophets proclaimed it fiercely: “Let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.” Jesus proclaimed it. Yet Hebrew and Christian peoples have not often lived justice. The same with our Abrahamic cousins, the Muslims. Modern prophets who live and proclaim it - like Martin Luther King – are voices crying in the wilderness.

Still I have hope, even though “seeing through a glass darkly,” as the apostle put it. As Parker said, “I can divine it by conscience,” not by sight. Though God’s people are unjust, God will remain just. Though they be unfaithful, God remains faithful. Though religious people “kill the prophets and stone those sent to them,” as Jesus observed, God still longs to “gather them together as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing.”

Perhaps the Yin-Yang symbol is best interpreted as God and humans fighting with each other for as long as time will last. Yet all religious traditions say that time will not last forever. There is an end to time. For those with eyes to see, that time is now. 

Time is an illusion when seen from Heaven. The Kingdom of Heaven is here now according to Jesus.  If there is no time, there is no arc of time to bend one way or the other. Eternity is now, and Eternity is Love. God is Love. True Love is true justice.  May the arc of God’s people bend toward divine justice.

Gazing at Gaza

Several times in the last two weeks I have tried to write a response to the attack by Hamas upon Israel and the subsequent attacks by Israel upon Gaza. Every time I have deleted what I wrote and started over. Words fail me. Whenever I see photos of Gaza today, I think back to my visit to Gaza thirty years ago. Much has changed since then, but much has remained the same. 

I entered Gaza in a United Nations van with other clergy who were studying at the Tantur Ecumenical Institute outside Bethlehem. It felt like entering a prison camp. Inside the gate was squalor like I had never seen. Open sewers and despair on faces. I visited the same hospital that has recently been in the news because of the controversial bombing. It was founded as a Baptist mission hospital and still had Baptist missionaries working there. We visited a children’s ward. We shopped at a small Christian bookstore.  

These people and places are what come to mind when I read the news today. Gaza is not a news story to me. It is a memory. I wish I knew the solution to this never-ending war in the Holy Land between Palestinians and Israelis. All I know for sure is that present actions are sowing seeds for future wars.  

When I gaze at what is happening in Gaza, I see the epitome of the “us versus them” mentality that is present in so many countries these days, including my country. An antagonistic view of the world is destroying the United States from within and threatens to undo our democracy. Our brothers and sisters are seen as enemies. Our common humanity is lost among religious, moral, and political differences. 

I don’t know what the people in the Middle East must do to end the cycle of war, but I know what I must do. I will follow Jesus. When so many people are angry and vengeful, I will turn from anger. When so many people – including Christians – are lusting for political power and influence, I will follow the Way of Christ. Jesus sought neither power nor influence. When put on trial for treason and blasphemy, he said, “My kingdom is not of this world. If my kingdom were of this world, my servants would fight…. But my kingdom is not of the world.” 

Yet Christians – both conservative and liberal, evangelical and progressive – talk and act as if Jesus’ kingdom is of this world and can only be achieved by fighting politically or militarily. One of the worst things that has happened in my lifetime is the Church’s abandonment of deep spirituality and choosing worldly strategies instead. Spiritual matters have been forgotten in favor of attempts to legislate morality. That is not the way of Jesus. 

What is the Way of Jesus? Read the Sermon on the Mount and you will find it. Read his parables and you will hear it. It is the way of the cross. It is turning the other cheek and not returning evil for evil. It is about taking the role of the servant, washing one another’s feet, and taking the lowest place. It is about unconditional love, including love of enemies.  

There will always be people – including Christians – who will employ worldly strategies to temporarily solve worldly problems. There will always be rulers and warriors, statesmen and politicians. They may keep evil temporarily at bay, but they never address the root problem. Jesus had another plan for his church.  

 

The apostle Paul said that our fight is not against flesh and blood but against spiritual forces. Jesus’ brother James wrote that the cause of wars is the war in the human heart. While most of the world thinks that one more war will solve the problem, let us address the root of all war. The problem is not “them,” whoever “they” may be. The problem is us. For that reason, the solution must begin with us.

 

Jesus is our commanding officer, and he has given us orders. He has commanded us to love God with all our heart and love our neighbors as ourselves. Instead of hating and killing our enemies, he commands us, “Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.”  

That is countercultural. It is a radical approach. It is the way of the cross. To the world the way of the cross is foolishness. It is labeled impractical, naïve, and idealistic. It is ridiculed by the world as a recipe for disaster. It is seen as surrender to evil. That is why Jesus’ disciples abandoned him. They wanted to fight to prevent him from being arrested, but he told them to lay down their weapons.  

The way of Jesus conquered evil then, and it conquers evil now. There will always be those who choose the sword – or in our case the gun. But there is a need for some who will try a different approach, the way less traveled. There is a need for a company of spiritual warriors willing to take Jesus at his word and try the Way of God rather than the way of Caesar. As Jesus said, “Blessed are the peacemakers for they shall be called children of God.”   

The Middle of Nowhere

Last Sunday a friend of mine quoted me in his sermon to his church in North Carolina. He introduced the quote by saying that I lived in the middle of nowhere. I kidded him about it later, but then I pondered the phrase and decided I liked it. I like living in the middle of nowhere. More people should try it. Just not in our stretch of nowhere. Then it might become somewhere.

I dwell in a very small town as far as human population is concerned. One hundred square miles of forest, lakes, mountains, ponds and rivers. One blinking light. No gas station. No grocery store. Not even a convenience store. Our house is within sight of the blinking light in the center of the village, so we are literally in the center of nowhere. Yet our town is not entirely off the beaten path. Every four years at least one presidential candidate finds his/her way to our corner of the first primary state. This year it was Robert Kennedy.

The other day my wife and I decided to get out of nowhere. It was getting busy. Usually our busyness has to do with our grandchildren, which is a wonderful type of busyness. We love seeing them. I love that they will have memories of walking to their grandparents’ house after school. We are blessed. But sometimes it is nice to get off to a quiet spot by ourselves for a while. So we went to a state park in a neighboring town to sit by a quiet lake ringed by mountains.

It was a calm, sunny, warm autumn day. Not a ripple on the lake. The mountains were in a haze. For over an hour we watched a pair of loons diving for fish, occasionally flapping their wings. Exciting stuff. Exactly what we needed. There were other people at the lake, including some kids, but it was not noisy. I commented to my wife that the quiet was so deep that it absorbed sounds like a sponge.

The silence was so powerful that I could feel it sinking into me. City folk think that quiet is the absence of noise. It is not. Silence is a tangible presence. Noises may be present, but the silence beneath the noises is stronger. Noises do not stand a chance in the presence of silence. Silence pervades all.

That is the way it is with the Presence of God. God’s presence pervades everything. God is palpably present inside and outside me, like space inside and outside a jar. The apostle Paul calls us earthen vessels. He calls us temples of the Holy Spirit. These are accurate analogies. We are Spirit-filled and Spirit-immersed.

The Bible likens the Spirit of God to the breath that we breathe. The biblical words for spirit are the same words translated breath or wind. God is the air we breathe, as the song says. God is breathing us. We are the lungs of God. Without God there is no life in these bodies. The divine name YHWH has its origin in the sound of breathing. In and out. God is as close as our breath.

I hear fellow Christians talk about coming into the presence of God. That language is popular in worship settings. People think that by coming into a church building, or into a worship service, or entering into an attitude of prayer that they are coming into the presence of God. Yet how can we not always be in the presence of God? If God is omnipresent, where else could we possibly be but in the presence of God?

The churchly way of talking about the presence of God is really about feelings. People need to feel the presence of God. I understand that. Feelings are nice. Spiritual experiences are edifying. But they have nothing to do with the presence of God. God is present whether we feel God’s presence or not. If we ever feel like God is not present, we do not need to perform religious rituals to recapture the feeling. All we have to do is pause to notice what is always present, and God is instantly here.  God is never not here.

God is not a thing and therefore not in some special place. God is nothing (no-thing) and nowhere, which is another way of saying everything and everywhere. Language collapses into paradox when speaking of the Divine. Sometimes we may feel like God is absent, like we are in the middle of nowhere. At such times we are exactly where we ought to be. God is in the middle of nowhere. So are you. Welcome to nowhere.