Genocide and Remembrance

 

Today President Biden may cause a ripple in history that could create international problems in an area with which our country already has strained relations. It will only be a one-word change, but it will reflect a choice of words that has stood for over a century and represented a degree of barbarity that almost defies belief. The word is “genocide,” coined in 1941 by Raphael Lemkin.1  In 1947, the United Nations defined genocide and brought it into the world’s eye as a crime unparalleled in gravity. Still, it has been around for time immemorial. 

There are synonyms for actions similar to genocide, namely: purges, ethnic or racial cleansing, revolution, and Holocaust; all of them involve picking out a specific group and determining to wipe them out to create a more homogenous, cohesive group alike in beliefs, thinking, and purpose. Many people can still remember the genocides, ethnic cleansing, and purges not all that long ago: Rwanda (1994), Germany (1939-45), Uganda (1969-79), and Afghanistan (1986-2001)2,  to name a few. We remember the Holocaust because we see images and hear stories from survivors of the concentration camps. Sadly the number of these survivors decreases each year. Unless we take care to remember history, it will be, for the most part, forgotten – like Rwanda, Uganda, Afghanistan, China, Japan, Cambodia, and Bosnia-Herzegovina. 

The Bible is not innocent when it comes to violence and, indeed, genocide. One passage often quoted as proving God was harsh and promoted genocide is found in Deuteronomy 20, which gave the rules for warfare, including v. 16-17, “But as for the towns of these peoples that the Lord your God is giving you as an inheritance, you must not let anything that breathes remain alive. You shall annihilate them—the Hittites and the Amorites, the Canaanites and the Perizzites, the Hivites and the Jebusites—just as the Lord your God has commanded.” Perhaps there is a reason for this command attributed to God; who can know?

Joshua chapter 11 tells of Joshua’s attack on the massed Northern Kings and his subsequent pursuit and total victory over them. Again, he did this was for the same purpose described in Deuteronomy, only his was a longer campaign. Still, Joshua followed what he believed to be God’s instructions. In the name of God.

We often ponder stories in the Bible telling of cruelty, rape, murder, betrayal, and mass killing. How did such stories appear in this book we are asked to revere and study? What are we supposed to learn from them when we also read that we are not to kill, steal, etc.? We often get confused when we hear Jesus commanding us to love one another, forgive, and care for others, regardless of whether they are religiously or ethnically our brothers and sisters, do we not? 

Would God approve of genocide, such as we read about in the history books and the newspapers? Often, it seems, the events are caused by differences in beliefs similar to those differences between the Israelites and the pagans. The root cause is often intruders want the settled land that the victims already occupy. Religious differences then become the reason (or excuse) for the mass executions. It is hard to reconcile that the God we are taught to love, respect, and honor might approve of such actions. Yet, it seems as though God commanded the Israelites to do just that to clear the land for God’s people. 

Perhaps it might help to consider events such as the Armenian genocide to put things in perspective. We often have a hard time looking at the mass killings on our streets, stores, churches, and neighborhoods, even if the number of casualties is almost insignificant when compared to the millions in World Wars I and II and the various mass executions like the Holocaust and the purges of Russia and Bosnia-Herzegovina. Why is it so easy to look past genocides and yet seem to care so much about random victims of gunfire? Will gun ownership cut down on the possibility of more mass shootings? Will God reward those who carry guns for “self-protection” and which may kill an innocent person in a rush to kill the perpetrator of a crime or an intruder in the gun owner’s home? Where does forgiveness come into this scenario?  Where is God? 

Maybe we should look at the price of human life, which God gave to each of us, with the only cost being that God wanted us to love and obey God. How do we reach any type of agreement with others so that we all can live in peace and harmony? Why does it seem we aren’t even willing to try? 

May God’s mercy be upon all those who have been victims of genocide, mass murder, hatred, fear, or greed. May we learn to be peacemakers rather than fear-mongers, and shepherds rather than threats to other children of God. May we remember the past so that we will not repeat it. 

God willing.

Originally published at Speaking to the Soul on Episcopal Café, Saturday, April 24, 2021.

Mary or Martha?

 

During my working life, I looked forward to retirement. I would be able to spend time doing what I wanted to do, reading all day if I so chose, or going shopping during the week when the crowds weren't so large as on weekends. As I had a husband much older than myself, I thought perhaps I would be widowed early. It turns out that proved to be before I stopped working. I knew it was going to happen, and every day I woke up with the thought of "Is today the day?" The day finally came, and my single life began for the first time in over 27 years.

But retirement finally came, and I reveled in it – most of the time. I could go to bed when I liked, get up when the cats allowed it, watch whatever I wanted on TV, have a breakfast of peanut butter on toast or bacon and eggs at 10 am, and dinner of pizza or cereal at 4:30 pm. I could read all day, dust or mop the floor, or do dishes when I felt like it (and the dishware cabinet and tableware drawer weren't completely empty). It was nice.

I could study all day if I chose, and some days I did that. The books I read were frequently religious in content, although I snuck in quite a few British cozies. I did some writing when the Spirit moved me and napped whenever the Spirit sent me in that direction. I had lots of "Mary" moments, but there were moments of "Martha-ism" as well. It was lovely being able to choose.

I don't live across the street from the church like I used to, or I probably would spend a lot more time there. There have been changes, so it doesn't really feel like home like it did years ago. I miss that – but I just can't go back now. So much for being Mary, or even a Martha on the Altar Guild.

For me, life always seems to be a choice between those two exemplary women. Martha undoubtedly would have an immaculate house, always something baking in the oven, and well-planned, healthy meals. Mary would be studying the Bible, often in prayer, always conscious of God's presence, and eager to sit at Jesus's feet as he taught the disciples, never caring that it wasn't a "womanly" thing to do when there were meals to be cooked and served, cleaning and laundry to do, or sitting quietly away from the men, sewing or mending. Inside the house, they could have some autonomy, but it was limited to household matters only. Everything else was under male control. And retirement? There wasn't any. Most people died before they could retire, and, provided they were rich, could have servants to do the work and make money, with children to care for them.

I'm glad I don't live back then. I'd miss things like the variety of food we have, often shipped from far away via fast transit that ensures stuff like fruits and vegetables that aren't in season where I live still arrive crisp, flavorful, and fresh. I would definitely miss modern indoor plumbing, washing machines, electric lights, fast internet, and many channels I can watch on TV. I'd miss being able to buy and read books by the dozen if I so chose and on topics that I would want to read. I'd miss even being able to read since quite a bit of the world doesn't see girls as worthy of learning anything but household care, bearing and raising children, and perhaps tending herds of goats since goats were considered women's work. There would be little time to be Mary since from morning until nightfall, being Martha was the only possibility.

In the story of the two sisters of Lazarus of Bethany, it is clear that the role of Martha and her busy-ness is typical to most of the world. She was doing what she was supposed to do. She was perfectly within her sphere of influence to demand that Mary also live up to the norms of the time. But Mary had chosen her path, and that, at least at that particular time, didn't include slicing bread and cooking a meal for a group of men.

In church, we are taught that Mary had chosen the better part, sitting and learning from the Master while he was on earth.  At that time, the disciples didn't know he would soon be gone, but we benefit from a knowledge of the past. It makes a difference.

I have lots of choices and abilities Mary and Martha didn't have. Still, I don't have the opportunity to sit and listen to Jesus in person. Well, if I'm into my studies deeply enough, I can imagine I hear his voice speaking as I read the words ascribed to him by the Gospelers. If I'm wise, I would take the terms in, like Mary was doing, but then perhaps recall them as I go around, being busy in my Martha phase.

I think I need to be more conscious of where I am during the day. Am I doing things that build me up spiritually, or am I making my house cleaner and more comfortable to live in? Am I being active like Martha or being lazy and trying to fool myself into believing I'm a Mary? I've got some hard thinking to do (and probably some hard rearranging) to get my life in actual order, inside and out.

Originally published at Speaking to the Soul on Episcopal Café, Saturday, April 17, 2021.

Christianity and Care for Creation

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
    It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
    It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
    And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
    And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;
    There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
    Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
    World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.

              -- Gerard Manley Hopkins

               It always amazes me when I keep running into something several times when I usually don’t see or hear of it for months or even years. I take NCIS’s character, Leroy Jethro Gibbs’s Rule #39, “There’s no such thing as a coincidence,” with great seriousness. However, I have been surprised by coincidences from time to time.  For example, recently, I found the poem “God’s Grandeur” on my Facebook page, read by HRH Charles, Prince of Wales. It was written in 1877 by Gerard Manley Hopkins in a traditional sonnet (14-line) form, and the prince’s voice made the reading sing. Many read poems as if they were reading the New York Times headlines, but this reading was slow-paced and emphasized places that begged to be stressed. It surprised me that I went back several times over the following week or so to hear it again, me, a person who doesn’t really like poetry.

Behold my surprise when I opened my Reading and Reflection Guide for this year’s Education for Ministry (EfM) program just a couple of days later. The chapter for study this week included the very same poem that had made me stop and think the week before. We have been working a lot with Christianity and its role in care for creation and all of God’s creatures, so Hopkins seemed to be right on the money there.

What a hopeful and eloquent statement is laid out in the very first line, “The world is charged with the grandeur of God.” It has been part of the faith and tradition since the creation itself. In another coincidence, I ran across a short series of programs about “Jewish Law,” which again stressed the necessity for caring not just for people but also for creation itself. God put Adam and Eve in charge of the Garden of Eden to preserve and enjoy it, and what happened? One sin led to another, which started the ball rolling, as the poem indicates.

We have reached the point where species, which were once plentiful, be it plant, animal, or mineral, have vanished partially or even completely. We can no longer feel the kinship or even the holiness of the ground we walk on because we have polluted the earth. Even worse, we don’t notice the pollution we’ve caused because we always wear shoes with soles, often quite thick. There are people in this world who either wear thin soles or none at all and can sense the health or illness of the soil, but we seldom listen to or even hear them when they warn us.

God gave the world, indeed the universe, a great gift of the ability to renew and replenish itself, often regenerating seemingly on its own. At other times, it requires the help of humankind to reseed, reap, or remove the contamination and assist in restoration. Given time, an area blasted by a firestorm will usually recover. Still, it will probably take centuries to begin to resemble the place that had been there before. Humans can replant trees in the burned area and hasten the growth process. It is a healing kind of thing, both for the land and for the humans who help or even pass by the former scene of destruction and see new life springing up in hope.

The poem reminds us that morning comes after even the darkest night, and that morning brings hope itself. God, in the form of the Holy Spirit, spreads God’s wings and nurtures the world as a mother coos over her offspring. It is an image that is powerful, but somehow it seems to be one we have lost in our busyness and hurry to make money or gain power. Still, God is always there, whether we notice or not, participate in re-creation or not, and even whether or not we care about it.

Sometimes it takes a coincidence to bring something to the forefront. I know focusing on how a particular topic of study and how it impacts our lives and Christian practice often makes it more understandable in a context in which we had never considered it. Sometimes it takes hearing something said or seen differently that changes our thinking.  This change of thinking propels us to right old wrongs, clean things that are soiled and spoiled, and become closer to God through the everyday toil of caring for creation in all its diversity. The world was made diverse for a reason; otherwise, it would be as dull and colorless as many of our futuristic novels portray.

I think I’ll have to look for more coincidences. It might be fun to have new things to think about instead of rehashing old topics and news.

God bless.

Originally published at Speaking to the Soul on Episcopal Café, Saturday, April 10, 2021.

Three Traditions of Good Friday

 

This year I thought I would reflect on Good Friday since I have reflected on Holy Saturday for at least eight years, if not more. Everyone knows that it was the day when Pontius Pilate condemned Jesus to death. Following that condemnation, Jesus was scourged, forced to wear a crown of thorns, then carry his wooden cross through the streets to the site of his execution. Since medieval times, people have followed the path from the former Antonia Fortress to the Church of the Holy Sepulcre. The church considers it a particularly religious practice when done on Good Friday in Jerusalem. Many churches have images called “Stations of the Cross,” which commemorate the events from the condemnation to his internment in place of the physical journey. The stations are frequently done weekly throughout the year but have special significance during Holy Week, especially Good Friday.

Flagellation is a frequent practice among two vastly different groups of practitioners. One group represents those who enjoy pain, often in a sexual context. The second group is composed of some monastics and members of rigorous religious organizations where repentance is heavily emphasized. Flagellants scourge themselves with whips, sticks, thorn branches, rope strings with bits of metal on the ends, and canes.  Public flagellation is, in some countries, used as a punishment for legal or moral infractions. The chastisement can range in severity and the number of lashes, depending on the crime. A penalty of 100 lashes is often fatal. 

The Philippines is predominantly Roman Catholic and has many places known for their intense dedication to their faith. In Pampanga province, north of Manila on the island of Luzon, they have been celebrating representations of the stations of the cross, including rows of flagellants walking for miles while scourging themselves until their backs are raw and their blood flowing. 

Another Good Friday practice performed in Pampanga is that of actual crucifixion. Men and women who have chosen to do this are frequently repenting of sins but also may do it to share in the passion of Christ or even to thank God for particular events such as loved ones recovering from near-fatal illnesses or accidents. For some, it may be a rather painful way to be like the Pharisee in the temple, raising his religious status by showing himself to be pious. Still, I am sure that the vast majority of those who do participate do it for the glory of God and to show their love and reverence. They want to imitate Jesus as much as possible, and this is one way to do that.

Some participants choose to don a white loincloth and then be tied to the crossbars of the crosses they have carried for some distance before being raised upright. Others lie on the cross in the traditional position, have their arms tied to the cross member in several places, then have four-inch nails driven through their hands and five-inch spikes through their feet. They remain upright on the cross for as little as five minutes or as much as an hour, depending on how much pain they can bear. Spectators worldwide come to see the spectacle enacted every Good Friday except for the past two years due to the pandemic. I expect there are other places in the world where reenactments like these take place, but Pampanga is one of the best known and most publicized.

Jesus, as we traditionally see his crucifixion portrayed, wasn’t always shown with bindings and footrests to help support his weight. The bent knees we see on crucifixes, and the downward slump of the corpus had the purpose of illustrating a posture of slow suffocation since the ribs could not inflate fully. The corpus also shows the incision of the spear point and even the trickles of blood from the crown of thorns. What crucifixes often can’t show is the sun beating down mercilessly, sweat trickling into the raw gashes of the scourge marks, the slow dehydration that can cause delusions, and eventual death. 

Jesus, as the gospels tell us, spent six hours in this torment, not to mention the previous torture of the scourging, carrying the cross until he could bear it no longer, and the strength-stealing suffering of a sleepless night and the prospect of more torment to come. 

I do not imagine Jesus went through all that he did because he wanted to. It seems more of an act of submission, much as the actions of the penitents today. Many Christians put crosses on their front lawns, hang rosaries from their rear-view mirrors, wear necklaces showing crosses, crucifixes, and other iconic symbols. It is showing their religious affiliation but also as an act demonstrating their faith. The liturgies and prayers we attend or participate in during Holy Week are symbols of what our faith is about and reminders of who and what Jesus was besides being a charismatic preacher, teacher, rabbi, and human being during his earthly lifetime. 

May we take the time on this Holy Saturday to reflect deeply on what Holy Week represents, especially Good Friday. In what other ways can we show our submission to Christ, emulate his life, illustrate his teachings, and devotion to God? There is more to Holy Saturday than dyeing eggs, stuffing baskets with candy and chocolates, and new clothes. There’s more than starting preparations for a large dinner (or a smaller one if the family can’t travel to visit). There is more to faith than twice-a-year attendance at the major celebrations of the church. 

How can you demonstrate your faith? 

Have a blessed Easter.

 

Originally published at Speaking to the Soul on Episcopal Café, on Saturday, April 3, 2021.