Barabass, the Sermon on the Mount, Reparations, and Black Lives Matter.

A collection of thoughts given the times concerning #blacklivesmatter in light of the deaths of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmad Aubery, and too many other black names that shouldn't have to be mentioned or forgotten. I'll be using my normal style of giving perspectives on Scriptures to help guide us through this moment in our culture. This post does not intend to represent who I work for or where I worship but are merely my best thought out opinions on the matters at hand.

Barabbas

We don't often get teachings or sermons on this character: Barabass. Some Biblical facts about him. In Matthew (27:15) he is referred to as a "notorious prisoner."In Mark (15:7) Barabbas was "chained with his fellow rebels; they had committed murder in the rebellion." In Luke (23:18-19) he was referred to as having been part of the rebellion and committing murder. In John 18 he is referred to as a robber, a greek word that Josephus used when talking about Revolutionaries. (See Wikipedia page on Barabbas.)

His name means "son of the father." How wild! How wild a man named "son of the father" would be freed so that Jesus, The Son of The Father could be left to die. And what sort of death? Well, crucifixion of course. But who was crucifixion reserved for? Revolutionaries.

Revolutionaries.

Ones like, oh, I don't know, Barabbas.

Thieves.

Murderers.

Insurrectionists.

Rioters.

You know, like Barabbas.

Now to the story itself. In essence the narrative goes like this:

The Jews are all riled up about this Jesus character and have "finally cornered Him" on grounds of blasphemy and they want him killed but they are afraid to do the job themselves, so the religious folk get in cahoots with the state. The state wants nothing to do with it but neither the state nor the religious leaders want to have Jesus' blood on their hands because neither want to be faulted for any, get this, riots that might break out. Plus, they both know that Jesus is innocent, there's that too. Pilate in a feeble attempt to absolve the state tries to enforce a ritualistic release of a prisoner to appease the crowds that would normally abhor the crucifixion of their own people and instead their own people demand the freedom of the worst in exchange for the death of their best. In essence, Jesus receives the full punishment that was due Barabbas. 

Give this consideration. We often get so caught up in reading the Bible like textbooks (hello Bible verse memorization) that we entirely forget the genre of narrative. The narrative invites us to consider this exchange happening and investigate its meaning. If I had time I would explore what we discover from the other two crucified men as well as explore the topic of scapegoating (oh man, that would be so relevant too in today's cultural moment)... but I nearly digress.

This exchange is wild because it places Jesus on Barabbas' cross and Jesus suffers in the place of the insurrectionist, the rioter. And His pronouncement over Barabbas AND over everyone else there is not one of revenge, is not one of nationalism, nor of condoning one thing or another, nor of taking any one side of any duality but is this: "Father forgive them, they do not know what they do." (Luke 23:34) And who's the first to receive this offer of forgiveness? One of the other crucified men! Another insurrectionist! Someone who incited riots! In between the offer and the crucified man's acceptance is mockery from the religious crowds and from the state dispatched soldiers.

I'll be plain now. I believe what we need to learn from this narrative is that to follow Jesus in this cultural moment is to not pronounce anything concerning those who are suffering until we live out true compassion. Compassion literally means to suffer with. Until we have really sat with the suffering of black people in this country, until we have listened, until we have wept, until we have felt the fear they fear and sensed the oppression they daily express, we have no right to pronounce anything. And when there's a moment to pronounce, perhaps we should pause instead and pray "we do not know what we are doing, Father forgive us!"

This takes time. It takes having black friends. It takes listening. It takes reading (what black people are writing). It takes listening (to what black people are saying). It takes listening. Lots and lots of listening.

It also takes another thing...

Admitting that you are racist.

I John 1 and the Sermon on the Mount

"But I'm not a racist." I'm not saying you have to admit you are a racist. As if you are one through and through (although those people are out there, but if that's you you've definitely not made it this far in this post). But I am asking you to admit that there is some portion of racism in you, in all of us. This carefully reasoned admission is a major first step from having firm opinions to being open to opinions and marching onward into being an (actual) ally for black lives. However, not only is it a major first step, it's a clear and reasonable Biblical first step.

"If we say that we have fellowship with Him, and walk in darkness, we lie and do not practice the truth. But if we walk in the light as He is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanses us from all sin. If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness. if we say that we have not sinned, we make Him a liar, and His word is not in us." 1 John 6-10

Take for a moment the thing you are best at. Maybe you're really patient. Or really kind. Or extremely generous. Hold that in your imagination, in your mind for a bit, that very best aspect of yourself. 

Are you perfectly patient? Are you without any sin in your kindness? Are you omnipotently generous? Can you claim to be without sin in any of your qualities, even your best? Of course not! (And the Calvinist go wild!) How much more so any potential blind spots we have! And notice above that to walk in the light is to have proper "fellowship with one another." Even this passage declares that this sense of righteousness in our consciousness has something to do with how we fellowship with other image-bearers. Which leads us right up to this...

Are you perfectly anti-racist? Are you perfectly not racist? Can you confidently declare you have not a thread of racist tendencies or practices in you? Ones you may or may not be blind to?

"But I've never used the N-word! I've never discriminated based on the color of somebody's skin."

Friends. If ever there was a time to recognize the radical importance of the Sermon on the Mount, it might just be now. For I've not cheated on my wife but the Sermon on the Mount says that in my heart I have. I have never murdered, but the Sermon on the Mount declares that my anger has committed murder in the sight of God. "You have heard it said that being a racist means to not use racist terms and to not discriminate," and I can just imagine Jesus turning it around and saying, 

"but I tell you..."

And I have to admit that I'm not the one to fill in the blank of this sentence. There are voices, particularly black voices that have spent entire careers, received PhD's, written books, and teach courses on these matters from both Christian and secular worldviews. However I can say, the answer involves a lifetime of humility, repentance, and embodiment of Kingdom values, not just punching a ticket in our salvation card. Which leads me to my final point.

Reparations

Now, when it comes to the actaul working out of the topic of reparations as an ideal in this country, I have barely skimmed the surface of how "it would work." (Googling it just now on the evening of 6/17/2020 the UN has just recommended reparations, so get ready, the topic is coming to the forefront!) But what I do feel apt to address is the abject defiance of even the idea of it that I see from many white people, and in particular white evangelicals. 

Why?! Why aren't we even open to the idea? 

Reparations is the idea that because black people have been so negatively affected by slavery and the ongoing systemic racism in this country (and other western countries) that it is owed back to them in monetary repayment. 

The objection loud and clear is often a mix of "Why? Slavery was so long ago? Things are so much better now!" and "Why should my tax dollars go to black people just because they are black? I never owned a slave! I have no slaveowners in my bloodline!"

Now I'm going to speak directly to anyone claiming they follow Jesus Christ, and if others benefit or are challenged as well, well then great.

Perhaps the most Christlike thing to do would be to back reparations, and then some.

Westernized Christianity has overemphasized soteriology (the doctrine of salvation) to the point of their faith being worthless in terms of actually imitating Christ in any sort of culture-changing way. It's tiring to outsiders. Young people aren't buying it anymore. Oppressed people aren't benefiting currently from this version of Christianity at all. This is the result of this progression of events in the life of the western Christian: after baptism we handpick a few Biblical morals for followers of Jesus to follow and vaguely instill a few spiritual disciplines while juicing the orange of evangelism out of them after giving them only a rind to work with. 

Meanwhile what is Jesus like? He gives generously, to both the oppressed and the oppressors (crazy, right?) even to the point of shedding His own blood, even though He did nothing wrong. His parables about fruitfulness and yeast and mustard seeds point to generational blessings that multiply its fruit year after year. This should be good news to the poor, and should be disarming (yep, pun intended) to the oppressors. 

The concept of Jubilee in Leviticus 25 was a forgiveness of debts, a releasing of prisoners, and a restoration of generational wealth. There's never been any record in history of it ever happening. But when Jesus comes about he quotes from Isaiah 61 in Luke 4 when he addresses the crowd in an apparent self-inauguration speech. "The year of the Lord's favor," is a reference to Jubilee... and He dare says that this is fulfilled in their hearing. What's that mean? Two thousand years ago the seed was planted. The yeast was tossed in the dough. It was time for generational change to begin happening. And though He never does anything wrong, He pays the price, the ultimate price, and offers not only forgiveness (soteriology), but a new way forward: self-sacrificial love, compassion, generosity, wild mercy, etc. You know, Kingdom living, sermon on the mount actualization.

And just like the Israelites never put into practice the radical concept of Jubilee generation after generation, we too are reticent to take care of anyone else other than our own. For shame.

Christians should be the first ones on board the reparations train to at the very least listen and at the most overflow with generosity, love, self-sacrifice, restoration, and...

Reparations.

Conclusion

I can hear the opposition. "But what about the violent riots?" Jesus never approves the violence that happens in riots, nor the violence that kills cops, nor the violence of cops killing black people or killing any person. But now that we have that settled can we stay focused? None of my black friends have approved the violence that has come from the riots. I have even seen grief on their faces when it's mentioned. I imagine some of that grief is the distraction from the issue that black people have been trying to tell us about for years and years and years and years and years and years and years. That issue? Systemic racism.

Systemic racism that is alive and well (and I mean well. There are real-life beneficiaries to systemic racism. Including the author of this post.) in the police force, in banking, in government (yes, both sides), in the American church, in sports, in entertainment, in redlining, in the economy, et al. 

Jesus doesn't condone Barabass' actions that put him in jail, but He does affirm his image-bearing nature by suffering in his place, offering him forgiveness, and warning the entire people of Israel to stop their violent, oppressive ways over and over and over again, and instead be a people who flourish for the sake of other's flourishing. 

It's about time we didn't just receive salvation from Jesus but actually became something like Him in a way that black people could see Him in white people, in our supposedly Christian nation. 

It's about time we listened rather than grandstanded our own white opinions on matters.

It's about time black lives mattered.

Marlins, mustaches, and missing the point

The Miami Marlins, one of baseball's, no, one of professional sport's most losingest teams of the recent era has implemented a no facial hair policy. Is this really what the Marlins need to do to turn things around?

Most everyone I've heard on the topic has had the same commentary:

"Let them be who they want to be!"
"In this era of personalities, let them have the beards they want!"

There are a few that have noted that some beards are out of control (Dallas Keuchel's name may have been mentioned). But for the most part the refrain has been "Let the beards grow!" We are certainly in an age where the younger generations are defined for their individuality, so enforcing a team-wide no-facial-hair policy rubs against the grain of current culture.

Dallas Keuchel (m.mlb.com)

It's especially stark that head coach Don Mattingly is the one enforcing this policy. Mattingly once played with the Yankees who have a longstanding staunch rule on facial hair - no beards, only mustaches allowed (which is pretty awesome that they allow mustaches). But Mattingly grew out the 'stache, and was once reprimanded for growing out his hair too long.

Don Mattingly as a Yankee (ww.thebaseballpage.com)

It's almost as if everyone recalls one of the greatest Biblical athletes...ok...warriors: Samson. Cut off the hair, lose the God-given strength. Samson from an early age made a vow to not cut his hair. But the vow was a symbolic gesture of his faithfulness to God. So when he gave away his secret to Delilah, he forfeited his covenant to God.

But growing your hair out is no Biblical magic trick to super strength. Consider Absalom who was trying to usurp his father, David's throne. And while fleeing David's troops, his hair got caught in a tree and his mule hung him out to dry. When Joab found him, he killed him with three javelins straight through the heart. (2 Samuel 18)

Or consider 1 Corinthians 11:14 - "Does not nature itself teach you that if a man wears long hair it is a disgrace for him..."

So what gives? Grow my hair long as a vow to God? Or keep my hair short so as not to disgrace myself and God?

The problem with looking to the Bible for a rule on the matter is that we will be able to justify the position we want the outcome to be. And the problem with looking at the Marlins' (or the Yankees') rule on facial hair and viewing it only in the lens of the overarching current culture (where individualism rules), is that we miss the point entirely.

With the Marlins, they've lost. A lot. And every time they seem to take a step forward (spending big on free agents, new uniform, new coach, new stadium) they take two steps back (fireselling all those free agents within a year and a half, what's that crazy statue doing in center field, coach was virtually fired before the season began, and they are still losing). They NEED consistency, and a new direction. A facial hair policy is not a rule, it's a sign, it's a product of a culture shift. One comment Mattingly made on the new facial hair rule is "Let's get what we want and set it."¹  I don't think he was just talking about face folicles.

Biblically, again, we could justify a stance on long flowing locks and beards, or on clean shaven, well kept-ness. But really it comes down to how we honor God. And knowing if we are honoring God or not does not play out in our shearers, but in our hearts. We know if we are just craving to culturally fit in by longing for that manbun and hipster beard, or if we are truly grateful for the freedom (and ability to grow hair, of which my hairline can no longer boast) we have in displaying the image of Christ in everything we do, be it hair, words, actions, growing a family, work, recreation, etc.

So if being clean shaven helps point the rudder of the Marlin's ship (the fin of their fish?) in the right direction (winning), then keep that rule till it needs changed again. And if looking like a viking gives you joy and gratefulness towards Christ, then let the hair flow. Just don't settle for seeing these things as right or wrong, rather as honoring or dishonoring.

Now if only the Phillies could enforce winning baseball games!

1. quote taken from http://m.marlins.mlb.com/news/article/165063958/marlins-mattingly-adopt-no-facial-hair-policy

Adam, sushi, and sports

Imagine the first thing you saw in the morning was the very face of God Himself. Seriously! Don't read on until you really wrap your mind around that scenario.

In Genesis 2 God makes Adam out of the dust and then breathes the breath of life into him. Which means the very first moment of his very first day was seeing God Himself. 

Everything else Adam saw after that was before the chaotic, perverting force of sin marred it all. Everything was in proper relationship with its Creator. The waters teemed with fish (Gen. 1:20). Light was perfectly contrasted with dark in a world that ebbed and flowed seamlessly among its seasons (Gen.1:14-19), an artist's dreamworld. And everything Adam would encounter, be it a starry night, a sea full of sea creatures, or a tree in full bloom of fruit, it all would pale in comparison to seeing The Creator. As a result, everything Adam would have seen would have been seen "in the light of" its Creator.

Imagine seeing the tuna leap out of the water for the first time. Oh, awesome! Still not as great as seeing God.

Adam's first sunset. Wow! Still not God. Amazing. But not God.

First bight into a perfectly ripe mango. Mmmmmmm. Still. Not. God.

And this wouldn't ever take away from mangoes, sunsets or tuna, no, it would only properly place the mangoes, sunsets and tuna in their proper place: beneath God in their glory, but given glory because of God.

Which of course brings us to sushi.

Imagine Adam takes, the mango, combines it with the tuna, adds some cucumber,  and mashes it together square in the center of a seaweed mat and rice frame. The mix of colors reminds him of a sunset, the mix of tastes awakens the entire pallet, a miniature version of the rush of waking up to God's face. Each individual ingredient reminds him of the Creator, and the act itself of creating draws him closer to The Creator. Yet the act of sushi-making still isn't as good as being face to face with The Creator.

Sports can and ought to be viewed similarly. Our sports are a mishmash of created things. Gravity. Painted lines. Grass. Hardwood. Leather. Spheres. Math. Teamwork. Creativity. Ingenuity. Strategy. Wood. Water. Economics. And so on and on and on. All of which contains glory; mash them together they bring about more glory.

Still. Not. God Himself though. That's a joy unto itself.

For a lot of athletes and fans, we might not say that sports are the most important thing to us, but a look at our actions, routines, money-spending, etc., often say that sports is more important than God.

My claim here is that seeing God for who He really is will actually allow us to love sports more and better. And properly loving sports will actually cause us to love God more and better.

It's an audacious claim, but I want to flesh it out. Will you join me next time as we talk about God losing sight of Adam, idols, too much of a good thing never being a good thing?

Chills. (And a note on the intersection between sports and the terrorist attacks on Paris.)

Chills.

I've been to a couple dozen Major League Baseball games, and every time I step onto the concourse and get my first glimpse of the baseball field in its vast array of greens and browns, I can't help but get chills. Every time.

But why?

Follow me.

I most often and consistently get chills during worship. There's something about singing with other like minded people, aiming our collective affections towards God through song, that sends shivers through me.

The parallel might seem obvious at first:

"Oh! You have the collective fan base of a particular team pointing their affections all in the same direction and something similar in church on Sunday morning with the collective congregants all doing the same thing in song towards God!"

Close.

The "pointing of our affections" is part of the proper response to receiving a gift. 

In church when the worship band strikes up the first song, our worship is supposed to be a response not to the band but to the Creator. He has blessed us with 168 hours worth of blessings this past week and will do so again this coming week, and it is a simple act of thanksgiving and praise to put aside some time with others in song to show appreciation. But the singing, again, is a response. We don't sing to warrant a response out of God. We don't sing to receive the chills. Nor do we sing just to praise Him for giving us things. We praise Him because He is good, and the things prove He is good.

So wait. What about those chills on the concourse of the baseball stadium then?

When I get those chills at the baseball game I'm encountering one of my FAVORITE gifts that God has to offer. And, I believe, that because I've been able to view baseball as such a gift, I also encounter my Creator there, Jesus.

Sports, properly encountered, are viewed not as an idol (seeing sports as evil, or worshiping sports), nor as something we are entitled to (constantly being distracted by sports, getting "too into" sports, addiction), but as a gift.

How does one respond properly to receiving a gift? How ought we to treat sports?

We'll dig in more next time with more answers, and more questions.

P.S. Below is my quick take on the intersection of sports and the recent terrorist attacks in Paris.

It was of little surprise to me and to France that there was an attempted attack (two actually) on the Germany versus France football friendly. It also could not have been by accident or coincidence that the perpetrators wanted to bomb the sports arena. With any sense of radical religion, whether radical Islam, radical Christianity or radical atheism for that matter, sports is seen as a venue of western affluence. A symbol of western pride. An illustration of freedom and excess enjoyment that dishonors God. Our "freedom to enjoy sports" therefore is seen as an affront to true devotion to God. Yet, I truly believe, as we'll continue to discover together, that God actually enjoys that we enjoy sports. Yes, it can become an idol, a symbol of pride, an in-your-face show of affluence, but it need not be in every scenario. "Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights who does not change like shifting shadows." (James 1:17) When we sit and thank God for daily food, for family, for jobs and sustenance, it's not like God "shifts shadows" and suddenly doesn't deserve the same gratitude for sports! Sports too is a good gift from above that the Father wants us to enjoy. It's a pity that though I'm sure not every heart in Stade de France was perfectly pure in their gratitude, that fans could not enjoy "the beautiful game" as they ought to have. As a gracious gift from above. 

Introducing TWIST

"It is... reasonable to consider sport the newest and fastest-growing religion, far outdistancing whatever is in second place."

That is a quote from Charles Prebish from his book Religion and Sport: The Meeting of Sacred and Profane. Even more profound than the quote itself is that it was written in 1993. Before the rise of the internet. Before smartphones. Before the recent meteoric rise of fantasy sports.

Before blogging.

Ok, I don't know about that last one, but at the very least before THIS blog helped prepare you to engage sports and theology in a new and combined away.

Can sports and theology truly be twisted together to make sense? And make sense of each other?

I believe they can. I believe they are.

The problem with the discussion around theology and sports is that there isn't much of one that happens. There are two main problems. The first is that the religious often file sports under the label of "idol" or "sin." For example:

"Can you believe he skipped church for a round of golf?"
"There's too much greed in sports, I won't watch it."
"I won't root for (guys like) Michael Vick." (I'll blog on this one in a future post)

The second problem is that, religious or not, we have solely become consumers and addicts. For example:

The billion dollar industries of fantasy sports.
"Don't talk to me on the day after my team loses."
The striking intersection between athletes, advertising, Hollywood and pop culture in recent history.
The undertow of influence sports has on ALL of us as I wrote about here at The High Calling.

These problems, however, shouldn't become our definition of sports. If we see problems in something, I believe it's because we long for the good in it. We sense a deeper quality about sports, though we can't often put our finger on it.

Well let's put our finger on it!

The solution is out there, and sports, despite all of the problems and shortcomings, is good. And God loves sports.

More than we do.

Better than we do.

And that is a twist on sports.