Deja Vu, 1968, 2024

by Steve Harsh, posted in Faith and Politics, Government Reform

The current campus protests over the war in Gaza have me scratching my head about why so many people in politics, the media, academia, and the general public act as if campus protests are something new that we’ve never seen before in this country. Those of us who lived through the 1960’s and ‘70’s have no excuse for such ignorance of recent history.

Demonstrations and protests against the Viet Nam war and others opposed to systemic racism happened in cities and universities all over the country in those two turbulent decades. University campuses were closed at times by the civil disobedience, and much like today the forces of law and order arrested and tear-gassed those who refused to end their occupation of campus property.

When carried to its extreme those who valued order and property over human lives led to the tragic killings in May of 1970 of students at Kent State University in Ohio and the much less well-known deaths of black students at Jackson State University in Mississippi. Nothing seems to have been learned by campus administrators or law enforcement officers from those recent history lessons. Authorities still show up en masse in riot gear and turn otherwise peaceful gatherings into violent confrontations.

My alma mater, Ohio State University, has made the national news for arresting protestors, including a state legislator who was there trying to protect students. Very little meaningful dialogue about important issues can occur under those kind of conditions.

Do such demonstrations and protests ever accomplish anything? The lessons of the 20th century would say yes to that question. It took years, but the case can be made that the campus unrest of the ‘60’s and ‘70’s contributed significantly to bringing the unjust Viet Nam war to a conclusion and helped secure monumental legislation to advance the cause of civil rights, but at great cost.

I find it hard to imagine that any objective observer of the devastating death and destruction in Gaza could deny that the calls for a cease fire and cutting off U.S. military aid to Israel is a just cause worthy of civil disobedience. If the cruel and unusual punishment Israel has inflicted on Gaza in retribution for the October 7 massacre does not rise to the level of war crimes I don’t know what would. Yes, the October 7 attack by Hamas was beyond brutal and horrific, but Netanyahu’s 20-fold death toll on mostly innocent women and children is beyond any justifiable response, no matter how terrible the original crime. 30,000 wrongs can never make a right.

But there are other interesting political parallels between what is going on in 2024 and the 1968 presidential election in the midst of the Viet Nam and Civil Rights protests. President Lyndon Johnson inherited the Viet Nam War along with the Presidency after the JFK assassination in1963. After easily winning reelection in 1964 his chances for reelection in 1968 were greatly diminished by the war and protests against it. Johnson did not want to be the first U.S. President to lose a war and kept digging himself into a deeper whole to avoid that blemish on his legacy. Eventually the protests became so loud that Johnson was forced to withdraw from the race for President, and that decision resulted in the election of the second worst president in American history, Richard M. Nixon of Watergate fame/shame.

In a similar situation this year Joe Biden is increasingly harming his reelection chances by refusing to withdraw his lifelong support of Israel. Supporting Israel’s right to exist has been a noble position for the United States for over 75 years, but continuing to support the war crimes of Benjamin Netanyahu is not only morally wrong at this stage of history it is also risking American democracy by helping the re-election of the worst President in U.S. history. If Biden’s choice is between supporting Israel at the terrible cost of putting Donald Trump back in the White House, then sacrificing Israel and/or Netanyahu is clearly the choice to make.

Jesus and Stages of Grief

by Steve Harsh, posted in Aging to Sageing, Faith Development

As we made our way through the passion story of Holy Week this year it occurred to me that the Gospel accounts of Jesus’ last week are an interesting case study in the classic stages of grief proposed by Dr. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross in her 1969 book “On Death and Dying.”

The stages do not occur in a linear order but ebb and flow like the phases of the moon, and we always need to remind ourselves that the Gospels are theological works, not historical biography; but given that, it strikes me that we can learn about the universal human experience of grief by studying what the Gospel writers tell us about the final days of Jesus’ earthly life.

Kubler-Ross’ stages include anger and depression which are often two sides of the same emotion – one expressed outwardly and the other turned in upon oneself. Because of that anger is easier to identify and that is true with Jesus also. The cleansing of the temple which is described in all four Gospels is one of the few times we ever see Jesus angry. He sometimes is verbally angry with the Scribes and Pharisees, but when he overturns tables and drives the money changers out of the temple with a whip that is the rare incident where Jesus is obviously and physically very angry.

Another scene which could be motivated by either anger or depression would be one of the “last words” from the cross where Jesus cries out, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” Hearing the tone of voice and seeing Jesus’ body language when he uttered these words might help us better understand his mental state at the time, but both Matthew 27 and Mark 15 describe his tone as “crying out with a loud voice,” and that is the best evidence we have.

Depression can certainly not be diagnosed from a few 3rd person accounts of Jesus’ actions, but the three incidents that come to mind when I think about that stage of grief are when Jesus weeps over the death of his friend Lazarus, when he weeps over Jerusalem and says, “Would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes.  For the days will come upon you, when your enemies will set up a barricade around you and surround you and hem you in on every side and tear you down to the ground, you and your children within you. And they will not leave one stone upon another in you, because you did not know the time of your visitation.” (Luke 19:42-44). And perhaps in all four Gospels where Jesus refuses to answer any questions in his trials before Pilate, Herod, and the Chief Priests. Those incidents however I interpret more as a strong, silent resistance to the unjust power of oppression rather than depression or resignation.

The stage of grief that stymies me when it comes to Jesus is denial. If you readers have ideas about this one I would love to hear them, but for now I cannot think of examples of times where I see Jesus being in denial about his fate. He sets his face toward Jerusalem in spite of the protestations of his disciples. He stages a protest entrance into Jerusalem riding on a humble donkey, and he returns daily to teach and heal in Jerusalem that last week and to celebrate the Passover, all of which seem like acts of faithful determination and not ones of denial in any form.

The stage of bargaining seems to me to only appear in the Garden of Gethsemane when Jesus says, “If this cup can pass from me, please make it so,” but those words are immediately followed by “But not my will but yours be done,” which move us toward the final stage of acceptance.

It should come as no surprise that examples of acceptance are easier to find with Jesus. When Peter pulls out his sword to resist the soldiers in the garden Jesus sternly tells him to put it away. And then on the cross where it would require the greatest amount of acceptance and courage, at least 4 of the recorded “seven last words” reflect the confidence that only comes with acceptance of death as the final stage of human life.

Those four include Jesus commending his mother into the care of one of his disciples, assuring the repentant thief that he will be with Jesus in paradise that very day, commending his spirit into the hands of God, and finally saying “It is finished.” I suppose one could also make a case that forgiving his executioners is also an act of acceptance, but that amazing act of grace really defies categorization.

Grief is a very complicated emotional process, and the Kubler-Ross stages are one very helpful lens through which to understand it. I find it comforting to find connections between my own experiences of grief and those of the incarnate life of God in Jesus. For me sharing the human condition of these grief stages with Jesus affirms the reality of his humanity and also the hope for achieving some degree of acceptance of my own mortality that he exemplifies for us.

I welcome your comments and insights on any of the above.

A Prayer for Earth Day Resurrection

by Steve Harsh, posted in climate change, hope, prayer

O Holy, Mysterious God, You are so much more than we can comprehend.  We are in awe of the power of resurrection around and within us.  As we celebrate Earth Day tomorrow the birds and buds and blooms are bursting forth with every color in the rainbow all around us.  Even in the midst of powerful storms that frighten us you manage to water the earth and bring forth new life.

We pray that your words of hope spoken and sung on this fourth Sunday of Easter will nourish new seeds of hope and faith in each of us as well.  We have marveled this month at the miracle of a total solar eclipse and the orderly progression of your cosmos that made it possible to predict that heavenly event years in advance down to the second in every exact location.  We are so humbled by the majesty and mystery of your creative power.

And yet we are called to repentance when we ponder the ways we have failed to be good stewards of this planet we call home.  We are reaping the whirlwinds of our sin against creation.  Extreme weather events and deadly wars cause so much suffering for your children.  Fear and hatred infect personal and international relationships, and we despair at the seeming hopelessness of the human condition.  Remind us again, O creator God, that what is impossible for us is possible for you if we trust in the power of your love and grace.

We pray for your resurrecting Holy Spirit to flow through the delegates at our United Methodist Conference meeting this week, and into the halls of Congress, and over the war torn landscapes of Ukraine and Gaza.  Blow your holy wind into the hearts of political enemies all over the world so that a new resurrection of peace and good will can blossom forth in the deserts and wilderness places in our world.

And we pray too for all those carrying a heavy burden of personal grief in our congregation and beyond.  May hope and peace be resurrected in those who have lost loved ones, homes, jobs, or purpose for their lives.  We dare to believe in resurrection because you have showed us, O Holy One, that you can bring life out of death in so many ways, and it is in the name of our risen, living Lord, Jesus Christ that we offer our lives and our prayers, saying together the prayer he taught us to pray. 

Northwest UMC, April 21, 2024

Reaping the Whirlwind

by Steve Harsh, posted in climate change, Faith and Politics

“They sow the wind and reap the whirlwind.” (Hosea 8:7)

So far in 2024 my home state of Ohio has the distinction of being number 1 in a very undesirable category. We have had more tornados here in 2024 than any other state in the union, some of which have been deadly.

As we were sitting through another round of severe weather and tornado alerts today the verse from Hosea above came to mind. Hosea was talking about the consequences of breaking a covenant relationship with God, and in a way our human betrayal of our relationship with God’s creation is a similar situation.

For 150 years at least, since the beginning of the Industrial Revolution, Western civilization has sown the winds of pollution by prioritizing profits over people. The fossil fuel industry has known for decades that we have been poisoning Mother Earth with our addiction to fossil fuel, but they hid that scientific knowledge just as the tobacco industry suppressed their awareness of the lethal dangers of smoking to protect their bottom line.

And now we are reaping the whirlwind (sometimes literally) of our denial of humanity’s contribution to climate change. More frequent and stronger severe weather, flooding, wildfires, glaciers melting and causing ocean levels to rise, all are consequences of our irresponsible treatment of God’s creation.

And that’s the simple lesson Hosea is teaching us: our actions have consequences in all areas of our lives. It is such a basic rule of life that Paul elaborates on it in Galatians: “Do not be deceived, God is not mocked; for whatever you sow, that you will also reap. If you sow to your own flesh, you will reap corruption from the flesh; but if you sow to the Spirit, you will reap eternal life from the Spirit.” (6:7-8)

And as I read recently somewhere, if you sow bullets, you will never read peace.

I Don’t Care Who Started It…

by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, Faith and Politics, Faith and Values

“You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say to you: Do not resist an evildoer. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also.” Jesus (Matthew 5:38-39)

I wish my mother were still alive, for a lot of reasons. Right now as I survey the current mess in the Middle East I wish she were here so she could sit down with Prime Minister Netanyahu and the Supreme Ruler of Iran and talk some sense into them.

My mom only had a high school education, but she had more practical wisdom than most of the “leaders” of the world when it came to resolving conflict. I think a lot of her wisdom came from growing up with 5 younger brothers.

I didn’t appreciate her wisdom as a kid; so I hope wherever she is she can hear my belated praise for the way she dealt with conflicts between me and my two younger sisters. Invariably when two or all three of us got into a squabble she would intervene and one or more of us would say, “She started it!” Or “he started it,” and Mom would just shake her head and say, “I don’t care who started it; I just want to know who’s going to end it.”

When it comes to the centuries-old animosity between Israel and her neighbors there is no way to determine who really started it because it’s been going on forever with first one side and then the other retaliating for some offense by the other.

And that’s where those troublesome verses from the Sermon on the Mount about turning the other cheek come into play. No one can take that advice literally and give it any practical consideration, but that isn’t the point of what Jesus was saying. He was saying “I don’t care who started this, but what matters is who has the courage to stop it?”

Violence begets more and often worse violence. It is a vicious cycle that only stops when someone says “enough” and refuses to retaliate.

In the current crisis the stakes could hardly be higher. I am not justifying the strike Israel made on the Iranian embassy in Syria nor the massive attack Iran launched in response on Saturday night. If allowed to continue to escalate this affair could engulf all of us in World War III, and no one wants that. Or do they?

The scariest part of this scenario is that there are millions of misguided and biblically illiterate “Christians” who are indeed rooting for this mess to turn into Armageddon. They falsely believe such a cosmic battle between good and evil will usher in the second coming of Christ and solve all the problems we humans are unwilling to solve for ourselves.

President Biden has come under criticism for urging Israel to exercise restraint, i.e. to stop or slow down the cycle of violence and destruction by refusing to retaliate. I believe Biden’s calming influence, while it likely will go unheeded, is exactly what this delicate situation calls for.

I shudder to think where the world would be this very day if someone with a purely transactional mentality like Donald Trump were sitting in the Oval Office just now. Trump is on record as saying during the 2016 campaign that his favorite Bible verse is “And eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.” Unfortunately his biblical education must have stopped in Leviticus which Jesus clearly turns upside down in the Sermon on the Mount.

Is turning the other cheek or stopping the cycle of retaliation hopelessly naive? Maybe, but it sure beats the heck out of the endless, vicious cycle of violence.

Into Your Hands

by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, Lenten devotion, spiritual discipline

I am one of the narrators for our church’s Good Friday cantata, “The Shadow of the Cross.” At the conclusion of the cantata each narrator will share one of Jesus’ last words from the cross. My line is “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” This opportunity has forced me to think about how to interpret those words.

Were they uttered in exasperation? “I give up God. You’ll have to take it from here!” Or maybe just a plea for help? Another way of expressing a feeling of abandonment or defeat, even anger? Luke 23:46, the only Gospel that contains this particular phrase, prefaces the words with “Jesus cried out with a loud voice,” which might support that kind of interpretation.

But Psalm 31:5, a source Jesus could have drawn upon, says, “Into your hand I commit my spirit; you have redeemed me, O Lord, faithful God.” That context seems to support what feels right to me. I believe this phrase expresses a surrendering and acceptance of death in all its forms to a mysterious power that makes all things new. They are uttered in the sure and certain belief in resurrection.

For Luke that is all there is to say, and he adds: “Having said this, he breathed his last.” For Luke this is the last of Jesus’ last words. That’s a great exit line, but how do average folks like us truly believe and trust that mystery? As one feeling much too close to the daunting age of 80 that question has taken on more and more significance for me.

Delivering these important words from the cross reminds me of the characters in Nikos Kazantzakis’ novel, “The Greek Passion,” where people in a Greek village take on the various roles in the story of Christ’s passion and so identify with their characters that they become them. The man portraying Judas is driven out of town for his betrayal of Jesus, and the man portraying Jesus, offers himself as a sacrificial lamb, confessing to a murder he didn’t commit to save others from being executed.

Obviously my one liner is not nearly as intense, but it feels like it can still be powerful and transforming for me and maybe others if the Holy Spirit works through me. It is always a heavy responsibility to speak hope into darkness, and God knows things are plenty dark just now, even days before the solar eclipse passes through our state. 

Help me Holy One.  I believe; help my unbelief.

Lent/Holy Week Video: Anointed

by Steve Harsh, posted in Faith and Politics, Lenten devotion, Uncategorized

Our church, Northwest UMC in Columbus, Ohio, is doing a series of worship services and sermons on the events in Jesus’ last week in Jerusalem. For each Sunday in Lent our talented music director, Brian Luke, has recorded a short video of what each event might look like through the eyes of a contemporary character in the story.

For the fourth Sunday in Lent the text was the anointing of Jesus at Bethany in the Gospel according to Matthew. I was asked to portray a witness to the anointing who is being questioned by the authorities about what had transpired. A version of this event appears in all four Gospels, and here is Matthew’s account.

“Now while Jesus was at Bethany in the house of Simon the leper, a woman came to him with an alabaster jar of very costly ointment, and she poured it on his head as he sat at the table. But when the disciples saw it, they were angry and said, “Why this waste? For this ointment could have been sold for a large sum and the money given to the poor.” But Jesus, aware of this, said to them, “Why do you trouble the woman? She has performed a good service for me. For you always have the poor with you, but you will not always have me. By pouring this ointment on my body she has prepared me for burial. Truly I tell you, wherever this good news is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in remembrance of her.” Matthew 26:6-13 (NRSV)

The link below will take you to the video:

drive.google.com/file/d/1ayIosZ7iMVaeXwPipeyKjrybF1e4aa87/view

Baring All Before God

by Steve Harsh, posted in Faith Development, Lenten devotion

Kate Bowler’s Lenten meditation for today triggered a memory for me from nearly 70 years ago.  In her book, “Have a Beautiful Terrible Day,” Kate’s meditation for Monday of Lent Week Four is titled “letting yourself be known.”  She paints a wonderful contrast between fearing a God who judges our faults and one who knows all about us and loves us as we are.

She closes with this reflection prompt:  “We can have a very Elf on the Shelf view of God at times.  THERE IS GOD WATCHING YOU. Shudder.  What image of God seeing you and caring about you could you find comforting?”

A long-forgotten memory immediately popped into my head as soon as I read those words.  When I was young my maternal grandparents lived on a farm that had no indoor plumbing.  When I visited them I thought nothing of using their two-holer outhouse.  It was just the way they lived.  

I especially enjoyed visiting there because the 7th of my grandparents’ children, Gary, aka Butch, was only 4 years older than I. He was more like a cousin than an uncle to me and just enough older that I admired his greater knowledge of worldly things. Farm kids have a much earlier and healthier grasp of how life and death work than we city slickers did.

So here’s my memory.  One day uncle Butch and I were using the outhouse.  I’m guessing I was 9 or 10 and he was 13 or 14 at the time.  We were at that curious age where sex was often a topic of conversation.  I don’t remember any details of our conversation, much of which I later learned was misinformed.  But I have a vivid memory that for some reason we decided to take off all our clothes and run around the back yard naked.

Had we done that at my house I think my parents would have had a heart attack.  But my dear grandmother who had raised five boys and two girls simply watched us from the kitchen window and laughed.  

Isn’t that a great image of a God from whom nothing is hidden, who sees us in all our human frailty and fallibility and laughs

Darkness Will Not Prevail

by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, Faith and Politics, spiritual discipline

Black History Month and Lent

Black History month and Lent go well together. Jesus’ 40 days in the wilderness and our 40 days of Lent pale in comparison to 400 years of slavery and systemic racism, but the determination to not let the darkness prevail requires the same kind of faith.

Darkness and Balance

Darkness has taken on a new significance for me personally in recent years. I was diagnosed ten years ago with peripheral neuropathy which causes numbness in my feet and legs, meaning my sense of balance leaves a lot to be desired.

My physical therapist has taught me some things that help in coping with my impaired balance. There are basically two senses that send information to our brains that help us feel steady on our feet. One is the feel of our feet on what ever surface we are standing or walking upon. Neuropathy plays havoc with that input.

Secondly we get signals from our eyes about our surroundings that help orient us in space. For that sensory data to compute obviously requires our being able to see where we are and where we’re going, and that vision requires enough natural or artificial light to illuminate our path. Simply put it is much harder to maintain a sense of balance in the dark.

That explains why you will find nightlights in every room in our house and why I use a cane to steady myself when walking on uneven surfaces or in the dark. And yes, getting up to make my way to the bathroom in the middle of the night is still sometimes an adventure, even with motion sensor night lights and my cane. It is also why I am very grateful for the flashlight app on both my iPhone and my Apple Watch. I am almost never without at least a small source of light.

Cultural and Political Darkness

On a more macro level Lent 2024 feels really dark to me, even with the blessing of sunshine and above average temperatures here in Ohio. Technology has not invented an app that can brighten the dark night of the soul I feel when witnessing the suffering in Gaza and Ukraine. Natural disasters are still heartbreaking to watch, but I understand the science of how climate change is causing the devastation on the California coast. I cannot however wrap my mind around the evil of modern warfare or the hatred that inspires it.

I despair at the insecurity and depravity that justifies a Putin killing his political enemies or invading a neighboring country just because he can. And I weep over the ignorance about our history that blinds people to the threat of authoritarian leaders and the cult-like devotion to those who blatantly practice it.

Being the Light

When the darkness of sin and evil threatens to drown out the light, God has always called on those like Sojourner Truth to step up and refuse to let the darkness determine our life’s light. That quote reminded me that I am always inspired by the words of another black woman, Amanda Gorman, whose marvelous poem, “The Hill We Climb,” ends with these powerful words:

“When day comes, we step out of the shade aflame and unafraid. The new dawn blooms as we free it. For there is always light. If only we’re brave enough to see it. If only we’re brave enough to be it.”

Action Steps

A Lenten challenge might be to find what God wants each of us to actually do to be the light. It may be relating to family members or co-workers in a more caring way, or volunteering for some group that you’ve always meant to get involved in, getting involved in local politics, advocating for justice by writing letters to representatives, or supporting marginalized groups. There’s plenty of darkness to go around and every ray of light does make a difference.

Prayer

O God of eternal light, the darkness scares me. I know in my head the words from the Gospel of John that assure us the darkness will not overcome the Light of the World. But my heart is not so sure! Rather than just spout pious platitudes that fall flat on their face, please give me the courage to really feel your light in my soul and the guts to go out into the darkness and be it. Amen

Dust to Dust

by Steve Harsh, posted in Aging to Sageing, Christian Discipleship, spiritual discipline

The fact that Ash Wednesday fell on Valentine’s Day this year has made for some clever jokes and memes.  My favorite is a driver asking his backseat passenger what she’s doing on Valentine’s Day.  She replies, “Rubbing dirt on peoples’ faces and telling them they are going to die.”  (If you are not familiar with the Scripture used when imposing ashes on another’s forehead on Ash Wednesday that joke won’t make any sense.  The words from Genesis 3:19 say, “Remember you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”)

Ash Wednesday seems a bit more real at age 77 than it did at 37 or even 57.  I told a clergy friend that we were asked to ponder how much time we might have left during our worship service tonight, and he said, “That just went from preaching to meddling!”

I am also more aware of my clock ticking this year because I had what felt like a big brush with my own mortality last week. It started when a grape-sized lump mysteriously appeared on top of my shoulder.  Since I’ve been having trouble with that shoulder I made an appointment to get it checked out with my orthopedic shoulder doc.  But I also made the mistake of getting on the internet where I convinced myself it was a swollen lymph node.  I even called my oncologist and talked to his nurse who asked several good questions.  When I told her I was seeing my shoulder guy that afternoon about it she asked me to call her back after that appointment and let her know what he said before she talked to her doctor. 

I was feeling some real fear of dying and wondering how I would handle a serious cancer diagnosis because I do have a so far dormant lymphoma and feared it was finally becoming symptomatic.  When I got to the orthopedic office I first saw a resident, and he immediately said “I know what that is,” which seemed comforting even before he explained.  His tone of voice was not ominous at all and I began to relax.  He called it a “geyser something” which didn’t ring any bells, but he explained it was an eruption of fluid caused by my weakened rotator cuff.  He went out to confer with the doctor who immediately came in and said it was nothing to worry about.  He called it a cyst, which was a term I understand and said there was nothing we needed to do about it

I was very relieved and felt a little foolish that I had catastrophized the situation, but I’m also glad that for those few hours I had an Ash Wednesday experience of at least for a little while feeling quite dusty.  What changes that semi-close encounter with mortality will make in my life remains to be seen.  I hope it will help me keep things in perspective; actually work on my end of life planning and simply put things in better order physically and spiritually.  Remembering February 6, 2024 will help me do that, and the harmless lump on my shoulder will be there as a visible reminder that I am indeed dust and to dust I will return.