They went to Capernaum...

With my friend, Jim Munroe, in "Naum's Village"

"For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms." (Ephesians 6:12, NRSV)

In The Episcopal Church, last Sunday and this coming Sunday are Annual Meeting Sundays. About half of our parishes in the diocese I serve met last week and the other half will do so this Sunday, with a couple of outliers. It is a stressful time for clergy especially and I can only imagine that this year is off-the-charts. Budgets and ministry and electing volunteers (in sometimes contested elections on Zoom) and the ever-present but real "danger" that Sally or Joe have been waiting all year to express how disappointed they are in their priest all contribute to the possibility that anything can happen.

And most of us get a little anxious when anything can happen. In my days as a parish priest, I found that most of my worrying was mostly for nothing. But not always. I remember one or two annual meetings where, literally, "all hell broke loose." It's not fun. And it wears you down.

Anyway, I'm not preaching this Sunday. But over the years when this Sunday came up, I was focused on writing a rector's annual address which was only very rarely a "deep dive" into the scriptures for the day. In a year when the readings appointed for this Sunday would come up, for example, I might focus in on a line from the reading from First Corinthians and remind the parish that "knowledge puffs up but love builds up" and then try to address the ways that perhaps both experiences had unfolded in the past year.

This year, however, I am neither a parish priest nor leading an annual meeting. I am not preaching this Sunday and what follows is not a sermon. It is, rather, a theological reflection on the gospel reading from the first chapter of Mark's Gospel, which is intense. You can find it here. It's a hard text to preach on in a progressive mainline congregation where talk of "unclean spirits" is rare. But I think we need to reclaim this Biblical language. The world depends on us doing that. 

Since this is not a sermon, however, a brief digression. I minored in theology as an undergraduate and studied in three respected seminaries after that. I have a lot of formal theological education and I've read a lot of theological books. I don't say that to puff myself up with my knowledge but only to say that without missing a beat, if you asked me to share a "Top-Ten List" for ordained pastors from the hundreds and even thousands of books I've read, these three would be on that list: 

• Walter Wink's Trilogy, (ok, I'm just counting this as one!) about "the powers." Forced to pick just one, I'd pick Engaging the Powers: Discernment and Resistance in a World of Domination. I have previously written posts on these books here, and here, and here, and here. (See why it's a good thing this is not a Sunday morning sermon! It might be easier to just read Wink's trilogy than to wade through those four blog posts. I wrote them during a sabbatical when I had some time to think!)
• Ched Myers, Binding the Strong Man: A Political Reading of Mark's Story of Jesus. Honestly this is the best commentary I've ever read on any of the four gospels. You can find some great stuff on Myers and his approach to Biblical interpretation here.  As they put it on the site where you can buy the book, Myers "integrates literary criticism, socio-historical exegesis, and political hermeneutics in his investigation of Mark as a manifesto of radical discipleship."
• M. Scott Peck's, People of the Lie: The Hope for Healing Human Evil. And this is my last link to myself, I promise, but I have written about this powerful book here.

So I realize this is a bibliography of sorts. Some of my readers here may have read some of these books and others may never have heard about any of them. But together they have shaped the way I think about and interpret the line from Ephesians with which I began and my understanding that evil is real. And that shapes my reading of this Sunday's Gospel, from the first chapter of Mark. 

In preparing parents with young children for Holy Baptism over decades, I always knew where the conversation would get interesting and real. It was in these these questions addressed to them as parents and godparents: 

• Do you renounce Satan and all the spiritual forces of wickedness that rebel against God? (Answer: I renounce them.)
• Do you renounce the evil powers of this world which corrupt and destroy the creatures of God? (Answer: I renounce them.)
• Do you renounce all sinful desires that draw you from the love of God? (Answer: I renounce them.) 

And then later, the first petition as the candidate for Holy Baptism is presented is this: "Deliver them, O Lord, from the way of sin and death." This language is highly symbolic but that doesn't mean it is not also very real. I would begin the conversation by asking these young parents: "what are your biggest fears about this child you have brought into the world? what do you worry could go wrong?"

Every parent gets this language whether they buy the whole Christian thing or not. They worried about war and rumors of war. They worried about drug and alcohol abuse and addiction. They worried about schoolyard bullies. They worried about racism and sexism and homophobia. They began to articulate how they could not protect their child fully from all the dangers of this world. Yes, now we could begin to make sense of these things that seek to corrupt and destroy the creatures of God. 

I don't remember anyone ever saying they worried their kid might be radicalized as a white nationalist. Or join a cult. But I think we need to find ways to talk about that, too. Foolishly and perhaps naively there was some part of me (in spite of that reading list above) that thought things might get better overnight in this country on January 21. Make no mistake about it; I think we are moving in a better direction than we were in the past four years. But those forces of evil - the forces unleashed on our Capitol on January 6 but also present throughout this nation's history in extremists groups like the KKK have been there all along. It's just that we can live for a while in our happy bubbles where this feels like an occasional unexplainable incident. We can no longer afford to be complacent, however. 

I think the big work for the Church, that wonderful and sacred mystery, in 2021 and beyond - is to confront White Nationalism in the name of the Risen Christ. I think the big work is to pay attention to all those Jesus signs on January 6 and also the one that said, "Nancy Pelosi is Satan." They invaded the U.S. Capitol in the name of Jesus! For the love of God, how sick is that? (See this excellent article from Sojourners Magazine.) They took God's name in vain and Christian leaders like me need to be clear about this. Dare I say it this way: their claims are demonic?

So, in this week's gospel reading there is a little ditty about Jesus walking into the synagogue in Capernaum and teaching "as one with authority." The Greek word is exousia. The unclean spirits know who he is and what he means to do. He means to unmask and to engage and to resist "the powers" of this world that seek to destroy the creatures of God. We may be tempted to think this work only happens out in the world - out in the streets - in mob violence and acts of terrorism. But evil sometimes can take hold of congregations. This is the sad and even frightening thing you discover as a parish priest but even more in diocesan ministry. Sometimes clergy abuse their power and authority and exploit and hurt God's people, male and female, young and old. When that happens, it stays in the water for a very long time. In my work I have sat with people now older than I am, who were hurt by clergy in ways we rarely speak about when they were ten, or eleven years old. It just does not go away...

In a week, our winter clergy day will be focused on antagonistic behaviors in the church: on bullying. If you didn't know this was a thing in the Church you may be new to the faith. You are surely not ordained, not even for a minute and a half. I'm not talking about honest heartfelt conflict which can be healthy. I'm talking about behaviors that destroy community. It happens and it's on the rise in these anxious stressful times. 

Many mainline "progressive" Christians were raised up to believe that "being nice" was the be all and end all of Christian discipleship. It is not. We have sometimes believed that if we just talk it through and appeal to reason we will be able to reach consensus. For way too long I believed this myself. No longer. You don't reason with bullies or overcome their abusive behaviors by being nice. You confront bullies with boundaries and clarity and the truth and by standing together. It's hard, exhausting work for lay and ordained leaders alike. I am grateful that when I was a parish priest, and I had to confront some bullies, that I had really capable wise, prayerful wardens to stand beside me. And to kneel with me in prayer, too. 

So this is a long post. To tell the truth it's written mostly for me. It fits the bill - lots of Rich ruminating! Most annual addresses aren't going to go this way - for lots and lots of reasons. And that's probable wise. 

Even so, there will be congregations in the diocese I serve where "all hell may break loose" at an annual meeting. And people don't usually know how to unmask, engage, and resist the powers in those moments. Too often the healthiest people leave. Who needs for church to be so exhausting?

We need to reclaim a vocabulary that is rooted in Holy Scripture and that is rooted in this week's gospel reading to do the work God has given us to do. No preacher can ever say about faithful followers of Jesus and those who claim the name of Jesus as bullies that "there are good people on both sides." We must choose sides - as Jesus does in this gospel reading. We must be willing to share the work of casting out unclean spirits, in the name of the risen Christ. If we mean to share in healing the Church and the neighborhood, we need to be clear about what we are up against.