The Empire Failed

When I was 19 years old, I got my first (and so far only) tattoo. Now, 19-year-old me did some dumb stuff and didn’t always think things through. But, I did have enough sense to know that whatever image I was about to get inked on my body was going to be with me forever. So I knew that I wanted to get a tattoo that would mean something to me not just now, but hopefully for the rest of my life.

So being a person that thinks of myself as fairly religious and having been influenced by the teachings, stories, and life of Jesus, I got the outline of a simple, square-angled cross inked on my left shoulder.

Now, dear Mountain Mail reader, I tell this brief personal story because it highlights how we as a culture have appropriated the symbol of the cross. For you see, the cross wasn’t always a religious sign that one gets tattooed on one’s body. It wasn’t always a pretty wall decoration. It wasn’t always a piece of sparkly jewelry.

The cross was originally a symbol and tool of The Roman Empire. The Empire would use the cross as a means of terror and control across its domains. The cross was a reminder that The Empire and its agents held the power of death over its subjects. If you said or did something The Empire didn’t like, up on a cross you go to die.

And it wasn’t just about whoever wound up there. A crucifixion was an intentionally public act. It was meant to intimidate entire communities. After the failed revolt led by the slave Spartacus in the year 71BCE, Rome (then a quasi-republic but still all about that power) crucified 6,000 prisoners. This was done so that no slave would every think about revolting against Rome again.

It is to the cross of The Empire that Jesus of Nazareth was nailed around the year 33CE. With Jesus dead on a cross, The Empire hoped that this source of unrest in the province of Judea would be eliminated. Surely this nascent movement following a wandering teacher would be finished now that its leader was dead, and order would return.

But, my friends, that story of Jesus doesn’t end with another dead body on The Empire’s cross. For you see, The Empire failed. The cross failed. Our human systems of Empire, power, control, and violence failed. Even death, the most potent tool the Empire has, failed.

With the resurrection of Jesus on Easter morning (April 1^st this year, by the way), the cross is transformed. It’s no longer a symbol of The Empire’s might, but instead is now a reminder of how powerful God’s love is and how empty our human ways are.

And my friends, we still haven’t completely learned that lesson. Rome was by far not the first, nor the last, Empire we’ve created. We continue to build up and sustain systems of control, power, and violence. Any time we wage war against each other or kill each other, we are continuing the failed ways of The Empire and the cross.

The cross calls us to seek after the better, whole, and life-giving ways that God calls us to. And the cross calls us to abandon the failed ways of Empire and violence. The cross calls us to a life where we love God and love each other with everything we have.

And that’s a tattoo worth having.

Friday, November 2, 2007

FOB Freedom, IZ, Iraq
2017

I forgot to mention on yesterday’s entry that I called John in the morning, still 11pm in Colorado. All I could say was “Happy Birthday From Iraq” and somehow our call ended. With John I really don’t need to say much, and we both suck on the phone anyway. I do miss that guy horribly.
I just got back from spending half an hour at the fire. Behind one of the FOB’s buildings there’s an open field by the fishing pond. There’s an open fireplace there, and almost every night a handful of soldiers will gather and just chill out, pretending that the malt beverages had alcohol and that it was 2am instead of 2000.
Our last trip to the massive Liberty/Victory base by the airport, I went into the bazaar that hosts lots of Iraqi stands selling crap you don’t need. I bought a cheap, very cheap, guitar and have started to relearn all my non-Jesus songs. Tonight’s hit was “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” by Deep Blue Something, from way back in the day.
I’ve christened our hallway “E-4 Heaven,” as all occupants minus Dellicker are E-4s and there are so sergeants to bother us. There’s an ongoing battle though on the hall’s dry erase board that we write our locations on when we’re not in the building. Through the course of the day various things will appear on the board besides official business, such as Chuck Norris sayings and Will Ferrell quotes, but at odd hours all this madness gets erased. As self-appointed “The Management” of E-4 Heaven, I’ve been posting messages for the erasing party to identify themselves. So far no luck. I just hope its not the captain or first sergeant.
Or internet access should be coming soon, soon meaning two weeks.
Tonight I ate chow next to Corporal Steele, the third deployment medic who speaks Arabic plays bagpipes and juggles. He said yesterday he went on his own to downtown Baghdad, the old city, and walked around without his body armor, talking to the Iraqi police and security forces. He also just chatted with people, asking about their health and doing what he could. He said he’s going back tomorrow to hand our medicine and be more of everybody’s hero. Steels is also the quickest to kill. As we ate one of the Oklahomans, who Steele described as his counterpart after the fact, made a loud jovial ruckus. Steel smoothly raised out of his chair with the speed of a striking cobra with his fist drawn back, ready to engage whatever was making all that noise, and just as quickly sat back down and resumed talking about being a badass.
Tomorrow we’re headed out to Hashimi’s Red Zone office. Today I put together why most of these guys have houses and offices both inside and outside the secure IZ. They may have to see people and do business that can’t get past the IZ checkpoints. Reassuring. We’ve reconned the route three times, and its total sketchy. We drive down Sketchy Street to Sketchy Traffic Circle 1, go through Sketchy Market 1 to Sketchy Traffic Circle 2, and post up just outside Sketchy Market 2. The Oklahomans haven’t had any problems, and we’ll be rolling out with all of Hashimi’s security gun trucks, but it’s still the real deal and will have us on edge.
Third squad also has two missions tomorrow to drive some captains around the IZ and then out to BIAP, so their morale has improved with being useful.
Yesterday I had some good talks with SPC Ludavicz and SPC Miller and SPC Ventullo. Luda told me about going to Haiti on a mission trip and his church and an old girlfriend, Miller about the lagging boredom, and V about having kids. Good shit, connecting with people.
I’m from 2nd Squad kid, I don’t give a f***.

Next post: November 6

Thursday November 1st, 2007

Ten years ago in Iraq. This post may have the best quote of the whole journal from one of my fellow soldiers.
There’s helicopters, and a great discussion of if the squad took fire or not. You be the judge.
Oh, and a Ferris Wheel!

Thursday November 1st, 2007
FOB Freedom, IZ, Baghdad, Iraq
1313

Our trucks were ready to roll today at 0800, but no mission came out of the TOC. SSG Gibson and his high speed self had some route recon planned, route recon being Army jargon for driving around the streets of Baghdad going from place to place that Hashimi might want to go some day. This kind of looking for trouble got nixed from above, because two days ago another squad found trouble. They were across the river, on the edge of Sadr City on route Plutos, and took fire of some sort. Sight seeing, Iraq style. That same day, Tuesday, we were out and might have received our first pot shot. We were at the northwestern edge of the zoo/amusement park, close to the crappiest Ferris wheel on earth. We were headed north, but turned around because Al Faris Al Arabi square was clocked with traffic. Right after we turned around, Dellicker heard a, just one, loud bang that sounded like a rifle shot. SGT Gaieski and me heard nothing in the truck, insulated by a ton of armor and our Bose headphones. A minute later SGT Juress came over the squad freg and asked if anybody heard anything, because SPC Bruinsma heard the same thing. Nothing came of the radio conversation. When we got back to the FOB, Grilli also chimed in that he heard the pop as well. These three gunners were definite we had been shot at, but the fourth, Ziskind, didn’t think so. It could have been a car backfiring. Also, nobody on the ground, Joe and Jane Iraqi on the busy sidewalk next to us, reacted as if bullets were flying. We might have had our contact cherries popped, or not, who knows.
Life here at Freedom is slow, now that we’ve been put on a tight leash. Even driving around the IZ takes a special pass from the First Sergeant or Commander. SSG Dwyer’s squad, which is full of high speed soldiers like Miller and Sholomith and Lawton, is assigned to former prime minister Allawi who is still holed up in London and will probably never return, so they’ve been placed in the Quick Reaction Force rotation. They have nothing to do, and get to sit around waiting to be bitch detailed out at somebody’s whim. You can tell this is taking its toll on the squad. Miller shows it the worse. As soon as we got here, his characteristic smile and pep vanished into some afternoon boredom. We slept practically cuddling in the mass tent of Camp Buerhing, so today I asked him if everything is alright, having noticed over the past week that he had been drained by something. Typical Army procedure to take a motivated soldier and make him loathe his daily existence. “This isn’t what I thought Iraq would be.”
The helicopters are a constant, usually in pairs but sometimes just a single bird. Most of the time they’re US Blackhawks, the ubiquitous flying symbol of American power, made famous by Blackhawk Down. Besides them we’ve seen Iraqi Hueys that looked like they came straight from filming Apocalypse Now except for the chocolate chip cammo pattern painted on them along with the Iraqi flag. Our favorites to spot are the Blackwater choppers, painted blue. Some are medium sized, more like news helicopters than mercenary haulers. But some are the small “little birds” that zip through the air at tight angles, khaki clad legs dangling out the side doors and low enough to the ground that we can see their rifles at the ready. I call them the “death wagons,” given Blackwater’s recent escapades. We’ve taken to the habit of waving at all the helicopters we see, mainly out of boredom, and get giddy when we see a hand wave back through a window or from behind a machine gun. The landing zone for the IZ is not far from our location, and so all the birds come pretty low over our little FOB, banking to the left, the north east, as they fly in.
I have to jet now to go to a rehearsal for the command change ceremony on Saturday. They want at least 100 bodies from our company there to see all sorts of pomp and ceremony to mark our officially becoming responsible for baby sitting the politicians of Iraq. Even in the heart of Baghdad you can’t escape the Army’s love of formations and bullshit ceremonies.

Next post: 11/2

October 31st, 2007

Wednesday October 31, 2007

FOB Freedom, IZ, Baghdad, Iraq

2100

 

Today is Halloween, my best friend  John’s birthday.

Today being Wednesday, we did an ammo count of every bullet we have, took our trucks to the company’s mechanics, and reset our radios with this week’s codes.  Before all this, we had our new 0530 weapons checks.  We were supposed to roll out at 0840, but our radios were still two hours away from being ready, the commo section being who know’s where to help us.  As we were waiting to roll out, SSG Gibson came out of the TOC and the mission was scrubbed.  Did Hashimi stay home today, like we always hope he does, or did we just not roll out because we would have to yell at each other on the street?  I don’t care, I got a day off either way.  Tonight we had a small cook out with the squad of Okies we’re replacing, poolside.

This entry is going to be religious as well.  This week I was officially appointed the company’s Enlisted Spiritual Advisor by the captain.  What this means I don’t know, and I’m supposed to discharge them with some PFC Dickerson.  My first task was to preview the Jesus Machine the captain gave me to preview for public distribution.  In Touch ministries, based on Dr. Charles Stanley, gathered up huge sums of cash and paid for a bunch of these Jesus Machines to be made and shipped over here to chaplains, to make it down to our level.  These Jesus Machines are solar powered mp3 players, about the size of a full-size iPod, in their own custom In Touch Ministries with Dr. Charles Stanley cases, loaded full with over 60 sermons by Dr. Charles Stanley of In Touch Ministries, complete with wall charger (no good here in 220 volt land) and one earphone.  I listened to the first ten minutes of three sermons, declared them crap for their outdated message of black and white choices, declared the medium of boring old man preaching at you without using jokes or illustrations and going on and on about the Bible crap, and promptly left it on the hood of my truck as we drove off yesterday for a mission.

Yesterday when I saw the captain to give my approval to their distribution, he said I could give them out to people who went to Protestant services, and he knew people who went to Catholic services.  I didn’t tell him I haven’t had time to go to services since we’ve been activated.

In that same session the commander gave me a book he got from the battalion chaplain, whom I’m supposed to email to coordinate things for the unit.  The book’s written by a Mormon chaplain serving in Vietnam with 1^st Cavalry grunts in the jungle.  I’ve read 50 pages, and it’s all crap too for the same reasons.  It’s too predictable and goody-two-shoes.  One thing that kills religion is stagnation.  A stagnant god is a god this post-modern world will not follow.  The chaplain is approached by a prostitute, and writes “I wished I could emulate the Savior and admonish the woman in Vietnamese to ‘go thy way and sin no more.’”  What the f*** chaplain?!?  What a typical holier than thou attitude.  In the scripture Jesus saved the women’s life, and didn’t yell at the poor girl but did chew out the crowd that was admonishing her.  And nice use of old-ass English that turns most people off.

I hope I never get boring.  That’s one thing that’s cool about the Bible, especially the synoptic Gospels.  For the most part, other than the begetting and lists of bygone Hebrew names, things stay fresh and are open enough so that you can read them for years and then one day realize “Oh yeah, I had that all wrong.  I get it now.  I blew that one.  God forgive me for I sucketh.”

But before I launched on this command driven reading endeavor, I read Vonnegut’s Cat’s Cradle, which is mostly about religion, post-modern style.  Its view of religion is so cynical and creative, since the book revolves around a religion that is purposefully composed as the story develops.  It turns out Lunchbox’s (SPC Murphy’s) doctor back in Worcester is Kurt Vonnegut’s son, and when we get back I’m are to Lunchbox’s first appointment so I can tell him how much I love the books, and I read them all while in Iraq and they’re awesome and helped me develop my own post-modern identity.

There are some great quotes in Cat’s Cradle.  From the Bokonist faith: “Peculiar travel suggestions are dancing lessons from God.”  I’ve lived that one, see my book that is being written.  One of the characters is a painter, and one of his painting is described as being hell, because it is dark, or the title cat’s cradle made of string.  The artist refused to describe it, to which his sister responds, “Sometimes I wish Newt would take some lessons, so he would know for sure if he was doing something or not.”  How perfectly post-modern, creation doesn’t have to be anything in particular in order to be created.  The Bokonist religion was invented because the lives of the people on the island setting for the novel are so miserable: “Truth was the enemy of the people, because truth was so terrible, so Bokonon made it his business to provide the people with better and better lies.”  He then made himself as outlaw and his religion illegal on the island because “a really good religion is a form of treason.” That last quote is from one of the calypso poems that make of the Books of Bokonon.  The first book begins with a warning not to read the book because it is fool of lies.  After this warning comes the Bokonist universal creation story, which concludes with man asking God “‘What is the purpose of all this?’”  God asks if everything must have a purpose, and man replies that it must. “‘Then I leave it to you to think of one for all this,’ said God.  And He went away.”  What an awesome concept, God leaving us to invent purposes, this is the post-modern God.  I don’t believe it, but thinking about it is good for the soul.  What if we are alone in deciding what all this is for?

Maybe this whole Enlisted Spiritual Advisor thing will work out to where I can have services here at FOB Freedom.  The majority of troops here, or at least in 3^rd Platoon, have no current church life, had one growing up, and feel disconnected from religion because it wasn’t relevant and fresh.  They need post-modern church because they’re post-moderns.  Is this type of religion for everyone, does loddy-doddy-everybody need to experience God through the cutting edge medium? No.  The way I minister isn’t best for SGT Gobourne, 49 years old and a life time devout Catholic, or his Protestant counter-part SGT Jones.  But the young soldiers, these are my people.  I share their distrust and cynicism, their belief in making the world better, that we can make the world better, and their lack of faith that we’ll allow ourselves to do such a thing.

The answers God provides have shrunk considerably, more questions are up to us now.  Anybody with too many answers is suspect and they probably don’t even care about you/ Especially God.

The words of Jesus create more questions than answers, especially the one’s that are the most comforting.  “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”  When? How? By whom or what?  “Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.”  Who has the earth now?  Again, when and why and how?  “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called children of God.” How am I supposed to make peace?  Pistols and nuclear bombers have been called Peacemakers too.

The answers are up to us to discover.  Better get cracking on that, it will probably take a life time to discover.

 

Next post: November 1^st, 2007

October 28, 2007

Sunday, October 28, 2007

FOB Freedom, IZ, Baghdad, Iraq

1958

Another Sunday, no church.  Got up at 0500, showered, shaved, got Dellicker up at 0530, who is a very deep sleeper in the morning and requires at least three attempts and a good shaking, had a weigh-in at 0600 so the Army can keep track of our weight.  Then at 0940 the First Sergeant was supposed to roll through our rooms for an inspection.  That never happened.  And then word came we were rolling out at 1130 just to drive around the IZ some more.  As we were milling about the trucks getting them ready, SSG Gibson appeared out of the company TOC, Tactical Operations Center, the nerve center of activity and mission control, at 1110 and told us at a high rate of volume that 1130 was a mission.  So we got to Hashimi’s house at 1130, only to wait around for half an hour after scrambling the last bit at the FOB to get ready, then went and got lunch at the Army IZ hospital, site of HBO’s Baghdad ER, and then finally rolled at 0130, escorting him the 500m to his office.  The rest of the afternoon we spent driving around enjoying the sites of the IZ and learning locations, routes, staging areas, and stopping at the Hands of Victory for photos.  We made our way over the bridge to Talabini’s compound, only to be stopped at the gates because we weren’t scheduled.  As our Oklahoman escort NCO was talking with the Kurdish guards, we got called back at 1700 to reverse the process.  So we backed out of the serpentine barriers and turned around next to the checkpoint, manned by who knows what kind of Iraqi security force, which sits across the traffic circle from the American checkpoint that secures the south side of the bridge and makes it secure for the IZ.  When we got to the office, we sat around for another half hour, took the whole minute and a half to move him safely back home, and then were done for the day.  So between doing stuff, waiting to do stuff, and sitting around expecting things to happen, there was no time to venture off to God knows where in the IZ to attend services.

One of the literary feats I’m attempting this deployment is to read the complete works of Vonnegut, and then Pynchon if I have time, besides the list of various books such as Les Miserables and The Name of Rose.  Vonnegut is such a post-modern inspiration.  Currently I’m reading Breakfast of Champions, and he has a great quote about truth.

“You know what truth is?  It’s some crazy thing my neighbor believes.  If I want to make friends with him, I ask him what he believes.  He tells me, and I say, ‘Yeah, yeah – ain’t it the truth?’”  And its even spoken by a modern artist who created a fifty thousand masterpiece composed of a canvas painted completely green with a strip of yellow reflective tape on the left side.  Genius.  On the next page, he speaks to post-modern writing:

“Once I understood what was making America such a dangerous, unhappy nation of people who had nothing to do with real life, I resolved to shun storytelling.  I would write about life.  Every person would be exactly as important as any other.  All facts would also be given equal weightiness.  Nothing would be left out.  Let others bring order to chaos.  I would bring chaos to order, instead, which I think I have done.

If all writers would do that, then perhaps citizens not in the literary trades will understand that there is no order in the world around us, that we must adapt ourselves to the requirements of chaos instead.

It is hard to adapt to chaos, but it can be done.  I am living proof of that: It can be done.”

The relativity that is mostly bemoaned by the critics of this age.  This spring semester, near the end, in my Modern Missions class at seminary, I was assigned to facilitate the student lead portion of the class session on Post-Modern Mission.  I spent most of my time talking about what Post-Modern means, and the above quote from Vonnegut is a good summary.  I demonstrated that today’s age had hollowed out the meaning of meaning and how old assumptions about people’s mindsets and dispositions toward religion, religion being the way of order and meaning and hierarchy and black and white, were no longer valid.  When I asked for questions, my five older classmates and the instructor were aghast at the description I had given of what the world was becoming.  The other class mate in our group of eight, the only one within a decade of my age, seemed to jive with it and understand.  The oldest in the class, in his 60s I think, asked “What can we do to stop it?”

Stop it? I revel in it.  There’s no use looking for meaning where there is none, and inventing one is dangerous.  Reality is what it is, let all our veneers be dissolved in embracing the ironies, contradictions, and utter non-sense of human existence.

Everything I what I just wrote stands opposed to most people’s concept of religion, hence my pious classmates reaction.  But my religion sets God above all this chaos we’ve made for ourselves.  Our lives are created with meaning, but its up to us to live in such a way.  The more I live and the older I get, the less and less I see God working and the more I see human action being the causalities of matters big and small.  That doesn’t extinguish my experience of God though, and the undeniable universal presence that I feel within and without still exists, and the words of the Bible still speak to me in ways only scripture can and new teachings are revealing themselves as I reread verses for the hundredth time.  I don’t see brothers and sisters so much being moved by God anymore, although I cannot deny the power of God to work however God wants.  What I see is the independent choices people make, and influence of God in people’s lives making the difference.

Example for clarification, because I don’t even understand what I’m trying to communicate.

Does God want me in Iraq?  Did God bring me to Iraq? The modern answer could be, but isn’t necessarily, yes.  God ordered things and shuffled things so that I, me the individual, would be here right now for some purpose that may or may not become clear later.  Maybe one of my platoon mates will find Jesus, clear proof that I was supposed to be hear at this time.  Many of my religious friends, both old and young, of traditional and contemporary paths, have stated to me that God has plans for me here in Mesopotamia.

No.  I’m here in Iraq because I joined the National Guard during a war and people in power in the U.S. government sent me here with there legal authority.  I feel very little God involvement in this situation.  There is no inherent meaning here.

But, because I want to live my life a certain way, I give meaning to whatever chaos I find myself in.  God could want me anywhere but here, but here I am, and therefore it is up to me to do what I can to make this where I am supposed to be.  By loving people, following the teachings of Jesus, these are God’s plan for me, for all of us.  People are too quick, much too quick, to place a God sticker over events and circumstances and not examine what is in human control.

I find this Post-Modern religion more empowering and more challenging that the ways of old.  On one hand, I am in control, or at least humanity is in control, or my own destiny and live.  I don’t have to wait around for God to act, I can act on my own and God will be there regardless.  The ball is always in my court.  I have initiative.

The flipside is that I have to take initiative, and thus it is up to us to make the world better.  We can’t look at the mess we made and point fingers at God or wait for God to fix things.  God has given us the tools, and I do believe God continues to act in miraculous ways in individual and collective ways, but the way God works is through us.

Real life example.  I’m in Iraq of causes not of God’s will but of human actions.  One of my fellow soldiers is having troubles at home, prays for someone to talk to, and I end up talking to them and providing a comfort to them.  Is this a miracle of God’s destiny for me to be here in Baghdad, so I could be there for that soldier? No.  What it shows is that it’s up to me to see the opportunities around me to act in ways God wants me to, and then act.  It is not a miracle, but putting many years of devotion and experience into action, my intentionally developed feelings of compassion put into practice.  I could be anywhere in any situation, and I would be the source of meaning in my life.

Where others see inherent meaning, or want to, I look for ways to give meaning to the chaotic actions of humanity.

I think the inherent contradictions prove this to be true.  While I’m here in Iraq trying to do the right thing and be good for people, I’m causing a lot of loneliness for Sara.  To place this on God would make God the source of both blessings and pain. I’m more than willing to place this on humanity, but my idea of God is not ready for a god that purposefully moves in opposite directions at the same time, loving with one hand and smiting with the other, making and destroying the universe at the same time.

While there is room for such a concept of god in some religious traditions, mostly Eastern thinking, my life experience had taught me that there are solid foundations on which to base life, grounded in the physical and emotional commonality.  We all need to be loved and cared for, feel connected, and on these universals I can know with certainty that God has established positive goals to give meaning to life.

That’s enough on that subject for a while.  My mind is all wrapped up know with trying to reconcile my post-modern mantra with Christianity.  Trust me, it works, I’m living proof.

Next post: 10/31

The Church and The Empire, or The Church Had 67 Good Years.

The Church has been around for more or less 2000 years. What a two millennia it’s been! We started out in a backwater province as a group of nobodies that you could fit into a couple of boats. Now The Church is alive and at work all over the world and includes some 2 billion people. We use the nomenclature of “The Church” to mean people everywhere who place their faith in Jesus. The Church comes in all sorts of flavors and varieties.

During these past 2000 years, The Church has always had some sort of relationship to The Empire. At the very beginning, it was The Roman Empire that oversaw the death of Jesus and initially persecuted The Church. As the years have gone by, The Church has interacted with The Empire under lots of different names: Byzantine, British, Mongol, Holy Roman, American, Chinese, ect. We use the nomenclature of “The Empire” to mean those political systems we set up that are built on the acquisition, control, and use of power, people, and resources.

The Empire has been around way longer than The Church, and The Empire and The Church have always had some sort of relationship. At times The Empire, in different forms, persecutes the church. At times The Church challenges The Empire. And some of the time The Church works hand-in-glove with and for The Empire.

In the history of this 2000 year old relationship, there have been 67 good years. For the first 300 years of The Church, the Roman Empire would violently persecute The Church in fits and spurts. Why? Because The Church offered a radically different lifestyle and value system that went counter to The Empire’s ways of power and allegiance to Caesar.

But, in the year 313 the emperor Constantine issued the Edict of Milan which made Christianity and The Church an acceptable religion in the Roman Empire. With this edict, persecution ceased. Hooray! No one had to be fed to lions anymore because of their faith in Jesus.

Then, 67 years later, the Edict of Thessaloniki was issued which made Christianity the official and only state religion of the Roman Empire. This edict was a game changer, and The Church has never been the same.

Since 380, The Church has often used the ways of The Empire, and at times has had the exact same agenda as The Empire. When the powers of Europe set off to colonize and subjugate the whole world, The Church came along for the ride. When Empires have made war against each other or enslaved other races, The Church has been there to say that it’s all God’s will.

Thankfully, The Church’s relationship to The Empire is slowly changing. We may be headed towards a time that looks like those good 67 years we had between 313 and 380. We are faithfully giving up our pursuit of political power so that we can focus on what Jesus cared about.

This makes a lot of The Church nervous. We’ve gotten comfortable sharing or even controlling the power that The Empire has. We like being official and all the perks that brings; we say our prayers at public occasions and it is our pastors that meet with politicians.

But, it was never supposed to be that way. Jesus didn’t come to start an organization that worked with The Empire, in all its forms. Jesus came to start a movement marked by humility, repentance, love of God, love of neighbor, justice for all people, righteousness, and service. Jesus came to proclaim a Kingdom where the last of this world will be first, not to start a church that would work with the Caesars of the world.

Perhaps, just perhaps, we may soon experience an era that is similar to those 67 good years. Perhaps The Church will be free from the seductive distraction of the ways of The Empire. Perhaps The Church can be free from pursuing power and privilege. Perhaps, just perhaps, we can be the movement of reconciliation and liberation that Jesus embodied.

In God We Trust?

Let me begin this column, dear reader, with the admission that what follows may go against the grain of accepted discourse and may rile you up.

Two hours down river from us is a veteran’s memorial that sits along highway 50 in Fremont County east of Canon City. This memorial has the usual accoutrements of a memorial to the women and men who have served our country in military uniform. There is an F-4 Phantom fighter jet, an AH-1 Cobra attack helicopter, an M-113 armored personnel carrier, and the ubiquitous UH-1 “Huey” helicopter. There is a wall with names engraved on it. There are flags. This memorial is like many other spaces that are dedicated to remembering the people directly impacted by our nation’s wars.

But there is an interesting part of this particular military memorial. In giant, capital, metal letters the phrase “IN GOD WE TRUST” is flanked by the helicopters.

As a veteran (I drove a Humvee in Baghdad for nine months as a corporal in the Army) and as a person of deep religious conviction (I lead a church as a pastor), I find a statement of faith as part of a military monument to be very interesting.

I believe that this is highly symbolic of how two facets of our culture can come crashing into each other. The US is a nation where religious faith runs deep and wide in our history and in our culture. Faith communities have thrived, and continue to thrive, in this country. We are also a patriotic nation, where we shoot off fireworks and have parades to honor our nation and our veterans.

All of this is well and good. I’m all for veterans memorials and being patriotic, and I’m all for people being religious.

But when country and faith get mixed together, things can get real problematic real quick.

Here in the US, we have the aforementioned phrase “In God We Trust” stamped on our currency. When we pledge our allegiance to the symbol of our political identity, the flag, we state that we are one nation and that we are “under God.” The phrase “So help me God” and sacred texts are regular parts of oaths and affirmations that we make for public offices.

But do we really want God’s name invoked when we put quarters into a Coke machine? Can we really truthfully proclaim that the nation our flag represents behaves as if it exists underneath the sovereignty of a divine being? Is flanking God’s name with attack helicopters a faithful use of God’s name? (And the attack helicopters for that matter.)

In the Ten Commandments, another symbol of religious faith that is used frequently in public political settings, one of the commandments is “You shall not make wrongful use of the name of the Lord your God.” (Deuteronomy 5:11).

That commandment is given because the name of God reflects the qualities of God: holy, eternal, just, and righteous. And that God’s name is only to be invoked for those things and those causes that are likewise holy, eternal, just, and righteous.

To invoke God’s name for a political cause, such as a war or a legislative agenda, is an infraction upon that commandment. Our politics and the countries we create (including this one) fall far, far short of being holy, eternal, just, and righteous.
If you are a person of faith, be very careful of how you invoke the name of the divine being, and be just as critical when God’s name is mentioned in matters of politics and war.

Because if we really trusted in God, we wouldn’t have nearly as many attack helicopters.

The Wisemen Made A Dumb Mistake

Today, January 6th 2016, is Epiphany. It is a special day in the Christian calendar that marks different things for different people.
One thing that Epiphany marks is the arbitrary celebration of the Magi/Wisemen/Stargazers reaching Bethlehem to honor the young Jesus with their famous gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.

The story of these Wisemen translates well into kids’ plays and songs. We sing their praises with “We Three Kings.” These characters, and the Bible doesn’t actually say how many there are, travel from a far off land following a sign that they have observed in the sky. They believe that a great leader and/or king has appeared in the land of Judea, and they are going to find this new leader and pay homage. And this story has literal bling in it, so that’s cool.

But for whatever reasons we may celebrate the Magi and hold them up as examples of dedication to finding Jesus, they did something really, really dumb. And the dumb thing they did helped contribute to the massacre of innocent children. But worst part is, the Wisemen made a dumb mistake that we continue to make and that is very seductive.

The story, that you can find in the Bible in Matthew chapter 2, goes like this. The Magi come from the east, because a star has lead them to Judea to look for a new “king of the Jews.” They arrive in Jerusalem, ask around, are are told that they should go look in Bethlehem, because it was believed that prophecies foretold that “the Messiah” would come from Bethlehem. And we read in the story that the star also guides them to Bethlehem.

Now here is the mistake the Wisemen made. They went first to Jerusalem, not to Bethlehem. Jerusalem was the place of political and religious power. Jerusalem was where the current king, Herod, administered the civil affairs of Judea under Roman rule. Jerusalem was where the Romans set up their military authorities of occupation. Jerusalem was where the temple and the priests were.

Surely, surely, if there were signs that a new King of the Jews was to be found, those signs must point to Jerusalem.

But the star didn’t lead to Jerusalem. Jesus wasn’t in Jerusalem. Jesus wasn’t in a palace or a temple. Jesus wasn’t surrounded by kings, generals, prefects, or priests. Jesus wasn’t in the place of power.

Jesus was in Bethlehem. He was in a lowly manger, in the company of simple, poor shepherds.

The Wisemen made a dumb mistake. And it’s a mistake we continue to make. They looked for God’s work, and we look for God’s work, at the places of power. They went to great lengths, and we go to great lengths, to seek out rulers and authorities thinking that surely God’s work has to happen among the people of power.

Wrong. Wrong on all counts.

And the Wisemen’s dumb mistake had serious consequences. The Magi played right into the political machinations of King Herod, the appointed official King of the Jews. The story tells us that Herod used the Wisemen as unknowing spies to gather information about who this new leader might be and where to locate this new leader.

Herod, like most people of power, felt threatened that his place might be usurped by this new leader. When the Magi tell him that the new leader was indeed in Bethlehem and that it was a boy toddler, Herod has all the boys of Bethlehem murdered. Power defends itself with violence.

We do not have to make the same mistake, although we often do. If you go looking for Jesus in fancy places with fancy people, He’s not there. Jesus is not in Jerusalem, o Magi. Jesus is not with the kings and the governors and the priests. The humble Jesus is out there with the poor and forgotten.

Fasting, or, #SnowboardMyBrainsOut

Tomorrow, November 20^th 2015, is opening day at my favorite place to snowboard, Monarch Mountain.
AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is a big deal in my life. This is the biggest of deals in my life.

In seasons past, I would wake up at 4am and drive four and a half hours one way to get to Monarch.
Now, my front door is 20 minutes from Monarch’s parking lot.
The official plan between now and the end of the 15-16 slopes season is to #SnowboardMyBrainsOut.

But last season, the 14-15 season, was a different story….

A little background first.

Each one of us holds different identities that shape who we are, how we interact with the world around us, and how the world perceives us. Some identities come from roles in family relationships: mother, brother, sister, aunt, ect. Some identities come from professions or jobs: doctor, soldier, barista, Ghost Buster. And some identities come from our interest and hobbies: singer, surfer, Civil War re-enactor.

Identities capture how we dress, how we communicate, what we spend our money on, and a whole bunch of other characteristics that make us who we are. When we think of ourselves, and when we think of others, we use these identities as a frame of reference. If we think of someone as having the identity of a NFL football fan, we have general and broad expectations that they may wear a certain team’s jersey and talk about rushing yard statistics. If we think of ourselves as a dedicated dog owner, and see ourselves in that identity, we will spend time reading up on how to be the best caregiver for our beloved mutt.

When I think of myself, and when others think of who Calob Rundell is, there are probably three things that come immediately to mind: pastor, guy who is into SpongeBob Squarepants way too intensely, and snowboarder.

That last identity, snowboarder, is just as powerful identity as any. If influences what I wear, how I spend my money, what I see when I look at the sky, the words I use when I talk, and how I structure my time.

Dear Lord I love snowboarding. I literally have dreams about being on my board and cruising down the gnarly pow-pow.

This season, the 15-16 slopes season, is going to be my sixth winter on a board. In those six winters, I’ve acquired a pretty good collection of gear and stories. I can talk about boards, bindings, boots, brands, different types of snow, the unique characteristics of the Colorado mountains I’ve been to, and how much more spiritual snowboarding is over skiing.

But, and this is an important but, sometimes a thing gets too big. Sometimes an identity grows into an idol.

At the end of the 13-14 snowboarding season, I took a good long look at what this hobby/sport meant to me. How much money did I drop on it? How much time did I spend not only doing it, but driving a gazillion miles all over Colorado chasing it? How much was I away from the churches I served and the people I cared for? How much emotional energy did I pour into tracking snow reports and forecasts? How much capacity did I spend planning the next adventure in pursuit of a powder day?

The answer to all those questions: A LOT. TOO MUCH.

So, I decided to spend the 14-15 snowboarding season engaged in a spiritual practice that is not very common in my context and is certainly very un-American.

It was time to fast.

Fasting is intentionally cutting out or cutting back on something. The purpose of fasting is not negative. The point is not to lose or give up something, but to gain something new. Fasting creates space for new things to grow and into existence. Fasting is about freedom.

It was time to fast from snowboarding. It had gotten too big. It was becoming an idol. That identity was taking up so much room, it was squeezing out more important identities. So, for the sake of my soul, it had to be brought down a notch in my life.

Now, I didn’t go cold turkey. I did allow myself a small number of days on the slopes, but they were under strict limitations. But I cut everything about snowboarding in my life down by at least 80% for a whole year.

I wish I could tell you I did something spectacular with that money, time, energy, and emotion that was saved. I wish I could tell you that all of it was redirected to some worthy cause. But it wasn’t. I didn’t give more money away. I didn’t spend more time praying or serving or anything like that.

Thought I didn’t take advantage of the space the fast created, I learned something important. Snowboarding is an identity I can live without. And the deeper lesson is that I can live without any of the identities that define me. I may not always be a snowboarder. I may not always be a pastor. And, Lord help me if it happens, I may not always enjoy SpongeBob.

Things come and things go. Identities can change, grow, and fade with the seasons of life. And life goes on and the adventure continues.

The experience of fasting was worthwhile. It was strangely life-giving to drastically decrease the space that one thing was taking up.

And now, it’s time to #SnowboardMyBrainsOut

Sermon: Sacraments

This sermon continues a series on “Defining The Terms.” The term for this worship service is “Sacrament.” Communion is celebrated at the end of worship as it is the first Sunday. A baptism is also celebrated in Wiley UMC.
The scriptures are Luke 3:7-14 and Luke 22:14-27. These passages highlight both baptism and communion as calls to change and to shift priorities towards righteousness.

This is Gus, my golden retriever that died of cancer, but got to end his life eating cheeseburgers.

The infamous Viking 3-2, my squad in Baghdad Iraq from October 2007 to June 2008

Lunchbox, Ali G, Ziskind, and The Rev (me) playing high stakes Monopoly in Iraq.

Note: I’ve inserted relevant pictures that will be visually displayed on the screen during the sermon.

Sermon

 “A dispute arose among them as to which one of them was to be regarded as the greatest.”

Priorities.

The disciples are celebrating their last Passover with Jesus. Jesus has told them that one of them will betray Him. Soon all of the drama, violence, and despair of Good Friday will commence. In just 24 hours Jesus will be dead and buried, and the disciples will be scattered and afraid.

And they are arguing about which one of them was the most popular, or which one of them Jesus liked the most. The disciples in this moment are more concerned about power and privilege than about anything Jesus has just told them or showed them. And with this argument at the Passover table, the first celebration of the Lord’s Supper, the disciples are showing what their priorities are.

Priorities.

Our priorities demonstrate what is important to us. Our priorities demonstrate how we rank the different things that beg for our attention and resources. Our priorities, whether they are intentional or off the cuff, control what we do with our time and our money. Our priorities, whether we set them or something or someone else sets them for us, control how we spend our emotional energy and our mental capacity.
Right now, I want all of us to take a moment and just tell ourselves what our priorities are. Just, to yourself, list what your priorities are. Don’t over think it, just real quick make a mental tally of what’s important to you and what you’re willing to spend your resources on.

[pause to allow moment to list priorities]

Alright, now some follow up questions on that exercise. [raise hand to lead congregation in raising hands to signify response to question] Who is mostly happy or ok with what their priorities are? Who’s got some good stuff on there?

Good, good to see some hands go up on that one.
Now, the flipside question. Who maybe had some things on their list that they wish weren’t there? It’s ok, sometimes our priorities are forced on us. If there’s a family crisis, or a medical condition we’re dealing with, or we’re broke and working to not be broke, those can be our priorities too. We may not like them, but those can be priorities too. Anyone got some of those things? [raise hand to lead congregation in raising hands to signify response to question] I got some of those too.

Cool, I just wanted us to have a moment to think about what priorities are and where our priorities are.

Now, our priorities can change over time. We may make a conscious decision to work to change what we focus on, or the external situations we find ourselves in may dictate that things change. We can shift our attention from less important things to more important things, or we can move our focus to matters that are trivial.

Let me tell you a couple of stories from my life about priorities changing.

First, let me take you to 2008 and the streets of Baghdad. For eight months my Army National Guard unit was assigned to protect the top politicians of Iraq; that was our mission. Here’s a picture of the hard chargers of my squad, Viking 3-2:

Don’t we look ferocious.

So for 90 percent of the time we were in Baghdad, our priority was our mission. Our focus was doing our job of keeping the squabbling politicians of Iraq alive. While we did find time for guitar hero and eating chicken fingers and drinking copious amounts of third-world energy drink, most of our time and energy was on our priority, our mission.
But, for the final two weeks in Iraq, our priorities shifted. The unit that was taking our place arrived, and after they were trained-up and ready to go, we still had two weeks to spend in Baghdad with nothing to do. So our priorities changed. We went from focusing on our mission, to focusing on something much more important: playing Monopoly.

It felt great for our priorities to change from staying alive and dodging IEDs, to caring about buying all the railroads and building houses on Marvin Gardens. Hint, I just gave you my proven strategies for winning at Monopoly. You’re welcome.

Sometimes in life we get to shift our priorities from things that are really important or our forced upon us, such as just staying alive, to things that are really fun and that we choose, like playing board games.

However, the opposite can also happen. Our priorities can be changed for us. If we lose a job, or get some bad medical news, or have a relationship that falls apart, we may be forced to care about things we didn’t have to care about before.

Some of you might remember my dog Gus.

Gus was a great dog, and he came with me when I was first appointed to be your pastor. Gus was smart and playful and obedient, he was a great dog. But, I was not the best dog owner, and I did not feed Gus the most nutritious diet, and Gus had a weight problem. When I finally was convinced by my friends to take better care of Gus, I changed up his diet and took him for runs with me. I made his weight and diet my priority in taking care of him.
But, then Gus was diagnosed with cancer. Which was bad news. And my priority in caring for Gus shifted to taking him to oncology appointments and giving him his pills. This shift of focus was forced upon me. Sometimes our priorities are changed for us.
There was a silver lining to Gus getting caner though. For the last few months of his life, Gus was on a pretty consistent diet of cheese burgers. Because diet and weight were no longer a priority, he got to eat some horribly decadent things.

For all sorts of reasons, with all sorts of impacts, our priorities shift as we live our lives. What is the most important thing one day may not even be a concern the next.

My sisters and my brothers, this a morning when we celebrate and share with each other the sacraments. In just a bit we will come to the table that Christ sets for us, and share with one another the bread of life and the cup of salvation in the sacrament of Holy Communion. Just a few minutes ago we celebrated the sacrament of baptism and welcomed a new member into our family.

There are many different aspects and angles to the sacrament. One thing the sacraments do is remind us that we are called to live by a different set of priorities. The sacraments, as physical acts of water, juice, and bread, provide us with a tactile connection to God. And these sensations of tasting the juice, chewing the bread, and feeling the cool water, remind us that we are incorporated into God’s work and God’s priorities.

In both our scripture readings this morning from the Gospel of Luke, we heard stories about the sacraments of baptism and communion. And in these stories we heard John the Baptist and Jesus give their followers a new set of priorities as they partake in the sacraments.

In the reading from Luke chapter 3 verses 7-14, John the Baptist is baptizing people in the wilderness around the river Jordan, proclaiming repentance, forgiveness, and that the Kingdom of God was at hand. And the experience that the people had was powerful. As they heard the call to repent, they were moved. As they heard the message of forgiveness, they were shaken. As they heard the proclamation of the Kingdom, they were drawn. And as they were baptized in the water of the Jordan, they were cleansed.

And from the power of this experience, the people asked John the Baptist in verse 10, “What then should we do?”

“What then should we do?”

In a way, the people are asking, “What should our priorities be now that we have been baptized? What should our priorities be now that we have been forgiven? What should our priorities be now that we have heard about the Kingdom?”

Maybe these are questions you can relate to. Maybe you’ve been in a similar place where you’ve asked “What then should I do?” Maybe you’re in a place in your life now where you’re asking “What are my priorities?”

If you’ve asked those sorts of questions before, and if you’re asking those sorts of questions now, here’s the answer John the Baptist has for: make the Kingdom of God you’re first priority.

He tells the people, and he tells us, “Whoever has two coats must hare with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise.” He tells tax collectors and soldiers not to abuse their power, and instead to serve the people they are appointed over.

Do you hear the shift in priorities here? John the Baptist is telling the people that instead of putting themselves first, they are instead to love their neighbors. Do you hear the shift in priorities that John the Baptist is calling us to? That instead of caring only about me and myself and my agenda, I am instead supposed to put the care of others first.

My brothers and my sisters, those are God’s priorities. Those are the priorities of the Kingdom that we are invited to. And the transition to those priorities is intimately tied into the act of the sacrament. To partake in the sacrament is to invite the power of God into your life and to be willing to let the experience of God transform you and transform what you value.

In our second Gospel reading today, we hear Jesus tell the disciples the same thing. In the midst of all the energy and drama and tension of Holy Week, Jesus takes the time to celebrate one last Passover meal with His disciples. And at that Passover table, Jesus takes the bread and the cup, He blesses them, and He gives them a new meaning for His disciples and for us. He says that sharing in the bread and the cup is to be done in “remembrance of Him.” That in coming to the sacrament of communion, we are to remember all that Jesus taught and how He lived.

After Jesus tells the disciples that His body has been given up for them and that His blood will be poured out for them, they immediately being arguing amongst themselves. In verse 24 of the twelfth chapter of Luke, we read that after the first Lord’s Supper “a dispute also arose among them as to which one of them was to be regarded as the greatest.” Jesus has just told the disciples that He is literally giving everything he has for them, and then they turn right around and start arguing with one another about which one of them is the most popular, who is the most powerful, who is the most privileged.

My friends, we are still in that argument. We are still yelling at each other and fighting with each other and killing each other over who has the power and who has the privilege. We have not moved far from that first communion table. We still chase after our own priorities of putting ourselves first and stepping on others to get there.

And we still need Jesus to tell us and to show us what our priorities should be.

Jesus says in verse 26, “But not so with you; rather the greatest among you must become like the youngest, and the leader like one who serves.”

Jesus is telling His disciples and He’s telling us that He has given us a set of priorities that goes completely counter to the priorities of the world. In place of the priorities of money and prestige and safety and power, Jesus proclaims a Kingdom where the priorities are giving, and service, and being vulnerable, and above all else love. And in that first communion, in that sacrament, Jesus models for us how those priorities are to be lived out. Just as Jesus pours himself out, so we are called to pour ourselves out too.

When Jesus tells us to remember Him in the sacrament of communion, He is also calling us to shift our priorities.

In just a few moments I’ll tell you more about communion, but here is the invitation that is before you this morning. The same invitation was before you yesterday, and the same invitation will before you tomorrow and every day after that. You are invited to the sacraments. You are invited to shift your priorities. You are invited to the make the priorities of the Kingdom your priorities. You are invited to make love, justice, forgiveness, repentance, and relationship your priorities. If those sound like things you’d like to chase after, you are invited follow Jesus and you are invited to chase after His Kingdom. Amen.

[invitation to communion follows]