Back
in the olden days, in the foggy mists of time, when I was growing up and going
to church, it always felt like an all-day activity: first Sunday School for an
hour, and then church for a second hour. My mom taught Sunday school herself,
so we were in our classes while she taught hers. We’d go to coffee hour in
between, and then attend the later service for the second hour. I admit that I
would have preferred to stay home sometimes—watching cartoons in my pj's—but
that was rarely an option.
I
was one of those kids that preferred being in the church service itself, over
Sunday School classes. Not that I paid attention to the sermons much, but I
always appreciated the music and liturgical action. I guess that’s why I do
what I do today! One aspect of Sunday School that I really didn’t like was
memorization work. We had to memorize lots—the Lord’s Prayer, the Apostle’s
Creed, and the Ten Commandments. Usually, our teacher would give us a line from
the prayer, creed, or one of the commandments that we were supposed to memorize
over the coming week. If we did and could recite the line the following week,
we’d get a star or something. We don’t emphasize that so much today. But it was
the thing then, 30 or 40 years ago. What I really don’t remember from those
Sunday School days, though, is if our teachers ever gave us any context or
content for what we were learning. You know, did they ever tell us what the
prayers or creeds or commandments mean? If they did, it wasn’t in much detail. Mostly,
I think it was just memorizing.
When
it comes to the Ten Commandments, some of the themes are rather adult—like
adultery. We wouldn’t have understood what that was about when kids learning
the lines. Though, interestingly, that’s the Commandment Moses is pointing to
in the stained-glass window above the altar. It makes you wonder just what the
congregation here was dealing with in the 1950s and 60s. Others hit very close
to home at any age—like honoring your Father and Mother—my parents loved to
emphasize that one at particular moments. And the last one about coveting what
it is your neighbor’s used to strike awfully close to home, too. Still does,
sometimes.
Further
removed from the real-life experience of most of us—whatever our age—is the one
commanding us not to murder or kill, depending on the translation. It’s
interesting that it’s even included among the top 10 dos and don’ts. The others
deal with more every day temptations and struggles, while thankfully for most of
us killing another human is beyond the pale. But it must have been something
that people struggled with in ancient days. Indeed, any read through the Bible
makes clear that the impulse to kill has infected the human heart from the very
start—beginning with the brothers Cain and Abel, sons and Adam and Eve; down to
Moses—who himself killed an Egyptian; to the tenants in this morning’s gospel
parable, reflecting the crucifixion of Jesus himself.
Something
in the human heart and soul, some seeds of violence and hatred are so deeply
planted and deeply rooted, that God felt the need to inscribe on tablets of
stone, for all to see and know, that this is absolutely not how we are called
to live. Murder, killing, like adultery, covetousness, and faithlessness are as
far from God’s design for human life as anything.
For
those of us instilled with the values of faith—whether Christian or Jewish, and
doubtless from other traditions as well—this should be obvious. But, of course,
it’s not. Increasingly, we seem to live in a society that considers murder and
killing ordinary, routine, and even expected, if not exactly okay. Last
Sunday’s mass murder, we might even call it a massacre, in Las Vegas, is just
the latest example of what has become all too commonplace in the United States
over the past years.
Last
week it was at a country music festival, last year it was at a gay night club,
the year before an African American church in South Carolina during Bible
study, and five years ago an elementary school in Connecticut. What’s next?
Who’s next? We learned over the past week that the shooter in Las Vegas had
also considered a music event in Chicago and even Fenway Park as possible sites
for his killing.
Whatever
the motivations—whether hatred caused by racism or homophobia, or mental
illness that would lead one to target school children and their teachers, or
even an indiscriminate hatred of people in general and the perverted thrill of
power—it is a manifestation of those seeds of violence, hatred, and division
planted in the human heart, and nurtured and watered by a culture, a society,
that seeks always to divide people into categories of us vs. them, me vs. you,
instead of all of us together.
I’m
sure this tendency is found across other nations and societies. Clearly it is,
or we wouldn’t find examples of the same actions in scripture, as in this
morning’s gospel parable of the tenants in the vineyard killing the owner’s
slaves and son. But for some reason, it seems particularly alive and acute here
in the United States. Perhaps it’s because the nation was born in the crucible
of revolution, with guns drawn and a shot heard around the world. Or perhaps it’s because our early financial
system and economy was undergirded by slavery—both in the north and the south—which
relied on violence to rip people from their homes, chained them in ships, and
then sold them to the highest bidder. Human beings treated like property that
you could beat, starve, kill. And perhaps it is because the expansion and
flourishing of the nation could only come with the bloody acquisition of land
and power at the expense of those native peoples who were here first—pushing
them further and further out, starving, killing, and massacring along the way.
Whatever
it was or is originally, there is something in our national identity, even
still, that seems to idolize violence and even murder. Just consider the fact
that inscribed in our American constitution is the right to bear arms. Now,
some would argue that the original meaning of that right has been perverted
over the years—since in its original context it was focused on the ability of a
dispersed populace to organize into a militia, in the event of attack from
foreign powers. We don’t need that today, with a proper military and police
force and all the rest.
But
even if you are of the view that the American right to bear arms is absolute
and must be preserved, surely one would have to recognize that the framers of
the constitution couldn’t have imagined semi-automatic machine guns that could
indiscriminately injure hundreds and kill nearly 60 people in a matter of
minutes. After all, the guns they knew were muskets. There is no conceivable
reason that an individual should have ready access to such instruments of death
and terror. That militaries have and use them are bad enough—also in violation
of God’s commandments. But ordinary citizens, people like you and me, with full
arsenals in their homes—serving no purpose but the potential murder of fellow
citizens, fellow human beings—is to me, beyond comprehension.
I
imagine it is beyond comprehension to God as well—the God who spoke through the
prophets and came among us in Christ Jesus, to teach us a different way.
Indeed, Jesus was himself killed by the powers of evil and death. By the hatred
which so infects human hearts. And in his death, Christ showed us the power of
love. He showed us the power of life. He showed us that retaliation, armaments,
and weapons are not the instruments of human flourishing. The instruments of human
flourishing are love and hope and trust. What’s more, in raising Jesus from
death, God broke the human cycle of violence and hatred. God showed us, through
Jesus, that there is another way, a better way. A way that leads to fullness of
life.
As
some of you know, I was very briefly in Minnesota over the past week. It was perhaps
my shortest trip there ever—just Thursday to Saturday. So, I didn’t have much
time for visiting. I went primarily for the meeting of the National Scandinavia
Advisory Board at Gustavus Adolphus College, of which I am a member. I can’t go
to all the meetings, but I try for one or two a year. At Friday’s meeting, we
were joined by a number of students—some who studied in Sweden last year and
reported to us on their experience, and others who are from Sweden, studying in
Minnesota for the semester or year.
It
was particularly interesting to hear of the experience of the Swedish students.
They were impressed by how friendly and welcoming everyone is. They universally
felt supported in their studies—despite being unprepared for the amount of weekly
homework expected of them. But they also said that some of them were worried
about coming to the United States, or in some cases, their families were
worried about them coming here. Because there is a perception across the world
that the United States is a dangerous place. That people are randomly and
routinely shot here. We think of the US as a place of liberty, freedom, and hope—the
land of the free—and yet, others from other lands worry that they might even be
shot as they step off the airplane upon arrival here.
Thankfully,
we know that would be highly unlikely. Even so, many in this country do live in
dangerous circumstances. And random acts of hatred and death are all too
common—not only on a massive scale as in the horrific events of Las Vegas last
week, but also as children are hit and killed by stray bullets on neighborhood
streets. Something has to change. For the sake of our nation and its people,
something desperately has to change.
In
my mind, that change has to come through bipartisan work to change gun laws. I
realize there’s no way to get all guns out of the hands of all bad guys. But
that sad fact should not stop us from making it harder to access weapons that
are built for the sole purpose of killing people, in many cases on a
disturbingly massive scale, as we witnessed last week. We have to move out the
realm of political bickering and grandstanding, worrying about lobby groups and
special interests, and instead worry about human life, and human flourishing.
We have to mend the fabric of our national life, moving us away from a culture
of death to a culture of life. After all, that’s what the Ten Commandments are all
about—moving God’s people away from a culture of death to a culture of life. That’s
what Jesus’ life was all about as well.
And
the good news is, we can all embrace this work and this calling—whether we are
men or women, young or old, liberal or conservative, Republican or Democrat, whatever
our background, race, color, sexuality. In fact, we need all our voices,
speaking and acting in love, for each other and for our world. Those of us who
follow God in Christ have the perfect model, with laws, commandments inscribed
not only on stone, but on our hearts. They can guide us to fullness of life.
To
God be the glory: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
© The Rev. Matthew P. Cadwell,
PhD
