A sermon by Bill Neely
Summer Minister at the Unitarian Universalist Church, Rockford IL
August 7, 2005
Reading
An excerpt of an article in the July 1, 2005 edition of the Chicago Reader. The writer is commenting on the book, The Rapture Exposed: The Message of Hope in the Book of Revelation, written by a professor at the Lutheran School of Theology named Barbara Rossing. The writer is conveying some of Rossing's criticisms of the Left Behind book series, works that fictitiously describe a violent and destructive end-of-times based on specific interpretations of the Book of Revelation and other Scriptures.
"She (Rossing) wrote the book because she came to believe that the Left Behind interpretation was not only false but dangerous. "The mentality ... that somehow God has laid out in advance a script for the end of the world, that things have to get worse and worse and this is somehow God's will before the world can end and Jesus can return, taking everyone away-I think it's terrible theology" Rossing says. "Because then as the environment or anything gets worse, people will somehow think this is what the Bible says."
The theology behind the end-times prophecy emerged in the 19th century in England and was brought to America by a preacher named John Nelson Darby, who read the Bible as a kind of playbook for future events. He pieced together disparate verses (some from Revelation, others from all over the Bible, including the Book of Daniel in the [Hebrew Scriptures] and Paul's letters to the Corinthians and the Thessolonians) and gave them new meanings that Rossing says were never intended. Her reading of the book of Revelation follows a more traditional pattern, starting with the Greek text and considering its source and historical context. Revelation, the final book of the [Christian Scriptures] is an exhortation written by Saint John (whether or not it's the apostle John is disputed) to his fellow Christians in what was then the Roman province of Asia Minor, expressing his confidence, Rossing says, in God's victory against oppression by the Roman Empire. Rossing contends that John's true vision, and God's message for us, is one of hope, of the end of empire and oppression when Jesus returns-not to lay waste upon the earth or to rescue humans form it, but to live with humanity again ... "
Reading
from chapter 66 of the Tao Te Ching
All streams flow to the sea
because it is lower than they are.
Humility gives it its power.
If you want to govern the people,
you must place yourself below them.
If you want to lead the people,
you must learn how to follow them.
The Master is above the people,
and no one feels oppressed.
She goes ahead of the people,
and no one feels manipulated.
The whole world is grateful to her.
Because she competes with no one,
no one can compete with her.
Sermon
"Left Behind"
Bill Neely
One of my least favorite jobs was as a dairy and frozen foods clerk in a grocery store in Virginia. I spent much of my time at work with freezing cold hands that would ache long after my shift was over, or surrounded by the smell of dairy products gone sour, a scent that would remain in my nose long after the day's work was done. The job didn't pay well, the supervisor's were distant, and while my co-workers were often enjoyable, we clerks seldom lasted very long at the store. We tended to leave quickly, when another opportunity opened up or we simply became fed up with the work and the company. The enjoyable relationships with the co-workers were thus often short-lived ones, as none of us planned to be there very long. Even those of us who envisioned working for the company for a while, envisioned moving up to a cleaner, more temperate, better paying position within the organization. But in truth, this was part-time employment for most of us, in those positions, as we spent the better part of our time and attention on school or other employment opportunities.
Even with this somewhat temporary approach to the employment at this business, a switch would happen when we knew that the employment, for one reason or another, would soon be over. For me, this switch occurred about a week before I knew I would stop working there, when some activities at college would keep me away from the job for most of the time that I was scheduled to work. I knew I would need another job with different hours to earn what I needed to earn, and let the supervisor know that I was going to have to move on soon. He wasn't exactly heartbroken at the loss-he was pretty much always hiring because he was always losing people-and I wasn't exactly the Martha Stewart of dairy product arrangement or the Stephen Hawkings of the physics of frozen food placement. I just sort of put stuff where it was supposed to go and begrudgingly beheld the throngs of shoppers, my parents included, who kept insisting on buying what I put out there and thus, force me to keep re-stocking the coolers.
This wouldn't have been too bad, except that it meant rooting around in a huge walk-in dairy cooler that reeked of spoiled milk and moving box after box after box of frozen food in a sub-zero freezer to get to the product that was needed. I really did not like this job, as you can tell, and wasn't at all depressed when circumstance forced me to look elsewhere for employment. And that switch occurred then, around the time that I knew that I would not be there very much longer. I'm sure some of you have experienced this shift as well, that moment when you become short-term employment, and thus run the risk of acquiring short-timer's disease.
It's what the paper deliverer has when, on his last day on the job, he tosses your paper into the neighbor's yard and doesn't really care. It's what the accountant has when she skips filling out a useless form or two that her company requires, because, with only a week left at the job, what are they gonna do, fire her? It's what a dairy and frozen food clerk might have on his last day of employment when, as he gets ready to leave, he notices a less than fully stocked butter shelf but knows there's enough there to get through to the next shift and, well, that cooler really stinks and he's just not going back in there. That butter will be enough.
And when it's about butter or milk or newspapers or useless forms, short-timer's disease is a comical, understandable, relatively benign human trait that we snicker at in life. But if we allow ourselves to think that THE end is near, as in the end of times are near, short-timer's disease has larger and more profound effects. I was made aware of this by a printed speech written by the very popular commentator, interviewer, and researcher of the world's religions, Bill Moyers of PBS fame. Concerned by what he saw as an increasing interest in the Rapture among some evangelical Christians and the steady devaluing of environmental protection among elected officials across the political spectrum, Moyer's hypothesized that this was not just a correlation, this was a causation. That it was because people are imagining and envisioning the end times as imminent, that they stopped caring about long-term environmental protection.
Evangelicals who formerly were among the most active environmentalists in the country, believing that to be good stewards of the earth equaled honoring the gift of creation that the Eternal bestowed upon humanity to sustain us, were less apt to care as much since the end may be near. Or even if the end was not near, they were being influenced by this Rapture theology movement that assures them that the end is somewhere down the road and when that occurs, global warming and clean oceans are going to be the least of the concerns of those left behind, and not the concern at all of those basking in the bliss of heaven. Moyers believed that the effects of this sometimes unintentional, sometimes very subtle shift in consciousness could be seen in peoples' willingness to watch some politicians roll back decades of environmental protection while some other politicians stood by and allowed, and continue to allow, it to happen.
It's important to note that evangelicals have responded to Moyers piece with, I think, accurate arguments that say that Moyers makes too much of a few eye-poppingly outlandish theological claims concerning the rapture and stewardship made by a few eye-poppingly outlandish fundamentalist fringe thinkers. Evangelicals, they argue, care deeply about creation and have actually passed statements concerning care for the earth that are as specific and far reaching as anything liberal religious folks are saying. There's a movement in the Christian left to reclaim the title evangelical for those interested in humble, service-oriented, love-based social justice work centered in the life and model of Jesus. The national leader of this movement seems to be Jim Wallis, editor of Sojouners magazine and easily one of the most influential progressive Christians in the nation today. But even if Moyers overstates his case, the scenario he raises remains compelling: if people believe the end times are near, are they less likely to work for the greater common good?
In this faith, we really don't have much to say about the end times. Those of us familiar with the Book of Revelation tend to read into it a more liberal, less literal interpretation than the sort that would help create something like the Left Behind book series. That series, created by Tim LaHaye and Jerry Jenkins, takes in more than 100 million dollars a year by offering readers fictitious accounts of what the end times that some interpret into the Book of Revelation may be like. The school of theology that influences these works and that the authors end up promoting is a version of Rapture Theology that features an angry Jesus and an angry God eager to wreak pain on unbelievers. While the believers are whisked away to heaven, literally disappearing before the eyes of people next to them, the unbelievers are left on earth to suffer through violence and chaos for seven years, then to endure a battle with the Antichrist, then to hope to make the final cut when Jesus makes one last round on earth and brings people who have become believers in the last seven years to heaven. In this version of rapture theology, Jesus is back, and far from being a Prince of Peace, he's a King of War, an image contrary to and pollutant of the peaceful, humble, and forgiving picture the gospels afforded to that Jewish carpenter and rabbi nearly 2000 years ago.
In this faith, we don't have much to say about the end times, because we tend to focus more on the here and now. I've read people describe our faith as one that doesn't worry about bringing people to heaven as much as we aspire to bring heaven to people. That a heaven-like state is something that can be approached when humans forge right relationships with each other. Conversely, that a hellish state is experienced on earth when humans fail to care for each other and fail to commit their gifts for uses that benefit all. Our Universalists forebearers believed that heaven was something everyone experienced after death, a belief rooted in an understanding of an all-encompassing Supreme Being so powerful that humans could never eternally reproach it. We identify in the theologies of our Universalist forebearers indications of a very positive view of human nature. But there is another very important piece of the picture. Those early Universalists convinced of everyone's eternal salvation were saying more about the nature of the infinite love and secure power of the Eternal than they were about human nature. For them, this current and extremely popular understanding of the Rapture would make even less sense than it does to many us now as it would run counter to their own intuitions of the Love that sources life and to which life will return.
They might look at this Rapture movement and the glee with which some imagine future states of misery and destruction falling upon people who fail to believe one small violent understanding of a larger peace-themed religion as evidence that the capacity of humans to ever fully know the love of the eternal will never be filled. They might wonder if the fascination of a future state of hell on earth distracts people assured of a common ultimate destiny from affecting the hell on earth that already exists. Those early Universalists who affirmed the eternal source of love as both the beginning and ending for all, didn't deny the existence of hell. Many of those thinkers, particularly as the school of thought progressed, became convinced that the hell people feared after death was actually here right now, present whenever humans inflict evil upon each other. Present in the internal unrest of a disquieted soul, felt in the itchy fingers of hurt feelings, known in moments of wishing one could go back in time and reclaim words of anger, words that demean, words that dishonor, present in the angst that we feel when we turn away from someone in need of something that we can offer, but don't.
They might wonder why so many people are interested in a future state of hell, when, right now, in this country, the distribution of health care as a commodity and not a basic human right, assures that, using a conservative estimate, more than 45 million people in this country that the medical services needed for health and happiness, are not assured to them. In this land of plenty, with technological advances that boggle the mind, if they don't have the money for insurance, they'll be left behind. If those early Univeralists were alive today, they might wonder why the fascination with a future state of hell when, using a conservative estimate, more than 8 million children are uninsured right now, thus not getting the emergency care they need nor receiving the preventative care that could help them lead healthier lives. In this amazingly rich nation, they are being left behind. Those early Universalists might wonder about the prophetic imperative of progressive people who have backed down from pressing for universal coverage because of the defeat of one campaign for one form of coverage entered into the public discourse by Hillary Clinton in the 1990's. The defeat of that one plan largely silenced our calls that no body be left behind when it comes to medical care. Some dedicated activists continue trying to advance plans for single payer systems that would ensure not only coverage but cost control, but without the heightened pulse of a people who are morally enraged by sick people in this country not getting the care they need, the people who need to listen aren't and aren't going to.
I was in college when Hillary's plan was defeated, and prior to that, I had just voted in my first presidential election with health care being the most important issue on my agenda. The defeat of her plan stung me as it did many progressive activists, curbing the optimism that I had felt thinking that even if her plan didn't get passed, one would that would genuinely move us toward the legislation of health care as a right rather than the selling of it as a commodity. After the defeat, I, too, was eager to not think about the issue anymore and to rest for a while in my own reality of being covered and hope that people who weren't would find the help they needed. The reality is that since that time, very few of us are actually assured of coverage. The employer-based coverage system, expanded decades ago as a way to attract and retain quality employees, is under the constant threat of reduction and elimination, for current workers and retirees. The threat of being left behind without health coverage looms for millions of people above the millions for whom it is already a reality.
It is past time for more and more progressive religious people, like me and like you, to reclaim the consistent call for universal health coverage as a right. And our movement is well-poised to lead this call. Without the distractions of a fictitious Armageddon that some hope is to be, we can focus our faith and energy on expanding life and liberty right here, right now. We can center our leadership in our call to serve the larger world, in the model of the prophet who means so much to many of us and to so many religious people in our country. Because, the only reason to lead anything, be it the government, a religious community, a social reform movement, a civic organization, or a business community, is because sometimes, leading is the best way to serve something larger than ourselves. It's in serving this vision of health and care for every child of life that we can find our leadership serving a greater good than many can imagine right now. And our leadership may very well be, imagining and defending that greater good.
Against the cries of "socialism" that threaten to doom the creation of universal coverage, we can voice the real concerns of parents unable to get their children the care that they need. Against the cries of "expense" that raise the culture's anxiety over the creation of universal coverage, we can voice the reality of the human expenses that come with having no health care. Against the cries that "medical procedures will be determined by politicians," we can voice the painful comments of the countless medical professionals who are disheartened and exhausted by having medical procedures determined by complicated system of bureaucracy. Against the voices of lobbyists and the elected officials in their pockets, we can amplify the voices of the everyday medical professionals whose passion to help people be well can fuel the movement toward universal coverage.
And not against, but with, religious people from a wide variety of homes, we can continually re-commit ourselves to the common work of creating in these days, societies where no one is left behind. With religious people similar to us and quite different than us, we can serve the common greater good by honoring life as we work to afford each child of creation, old and young, of every race, gender, orientation, ability, and opinion, every chance at health and happiness. While our beliefs and values make us worship in different ways and we share dissimilar ideas about the afterlife and the end times, we can find common ground as we work to create a radical society where the common instruments of our bodies are all cared for by a culture with more than enough means to do so. May our passion and our reason unite to work more fruitfully than ever to realize the goal of universal coverage. May we do this in the humble service of that Mystery which calls the heart to beat, the mind to think, the hand to pray, the lips to kiss, the voice to soothe, and the body to love. May we care each other's hearts, and minds, and hands, and lips, and voices, and bodies, as we would care for our own and for those of the people whom we love.
Amen, and blessed be.