26 June 2011

Jeremiah 28:5-9
Psalm 89:1-4, 15-18
Romans 6:12-23
Matthew 10:40-42

In the Name of the Father, and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

In the past four, five, or six years or so, we’ve been treated to a spate of journalists, biologists, minor league philosophers, film actors, amateur moralists, and a certain post-theist bishop of the Episcopal Church, all stepping up in the public forum to decry the savagery, if not just plain weak-mindedness of any religious faith in any sort of god or another. Mass-market publishing, enamored with this new atheism, this oh-so-chic anti-theism, has obligingly offered up to the reading public such titles as Daniel Dennett’s Breaking the Spell; Richard Dawkins’ The God Delusions; Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials – part of a fantasy trilogy aimed at bringing young readers to the light of atheism; Sam Harris’s The End of Faith; and God is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything, by that every-snarky master of the sophomoric screed, Christopher Hitchens. In all of these books – or conceptually dim diatribes, depending on your point of view – while faith in any god or gods is labeled as a “source of evil,” it is Christianity, more than any other faith that is attacked by these authors as being the pre-eminent embodiment of irrationality, savagery, blood-lust, and a whole trove of social ills. And these evangelists of the new atheism, along with the multitude of their cheering acolytes, thrill at the prospect of humanity entering into a glorious golden age when people are finally freed from their ancient slavery to “irrational dogma” and “creedal tribalism.” All of these works and all their authors remain relatively popular, hailed and adored by book-reviewers, and, according to Amazon.com are still enjoying brisk sales, some of them nearly a decade after their initial printing.

But of course they’re popular! Just like the false prophets of Jeremiah’s time whom they resemble in so many ways! These evangelists of the new atheism are well-received because they place the blame for all that’s gone wrong in history somewhere other than in ourselves – they fail to look at what’s in us – our will-to-power – the desire each of us has to be right, to be in control, to do it “my way” (Thank you Frank Sinatra.). To place the blame for evil upon faith in God – well, that’s so much easier than looking into the mirror and admitting that we are all addicted to our own schemes and dreams, that individually and corporately we not only all yearn for glory and might, but we also project our standard of glory and might upon God. With Bible in hand, to be sure, it is because of our will to power that humans seek to present a god whose glory consists in fulfilling our agenda, our projects: a god who will comply to our ways of being and thinking and who will smite those who do not conform to them. Luther called this the “theology of glory.” It is out of our addiction to power, individually and corporately that we construct a god who makes his might known by knocking heads and straightening people out when they get out of line – even if that is at extreme human expense (which is the case more often than not). It’s not due to faith in god that we do this – it’s out of radical unfaith – we do not trust God to be a loving sovereign, we do not trust that God’s ways are good – and so we must take it into our own hands and tell God how God is to be – rewarding us and punishing them.

One of the problems that the purveyors of the new atheism have is that they all fail to deal with the fact that the secularism of the enlightenment project has not delivered us from evil. The twentieth century, if nothing else, ought convince us that humanity doesn’t need faith in god in order to massacre millions upon millions upon millions. If anything, humanity in that ugly, recently-passed century, liberated from faith in God, has delivered unto history the bloodiest of human epochs to date – so much for the notion of moral progress. But to look to ourselves to answer the question, “why evil?” would not prove popular – it would mean being a bit too much like Jeremiah or Amos or Joel or Micah or Malachi – or Jesus, for that matter – and those sorts – well, we never really like anyone who points to human sin, to our human addiction to making God be like us, to our human rage for power and control – and we’ll do anything to get these sorts of people out of sight, out of mind, and preferably out of this world. We cannot bear their truth.

And accordingly, in the Gospel reading for today, Jesus tells the disciples – the disciples then and the disciples now – whenever anyone speaks of the God of mercy, whenever anyone speaks of the God who wills that all people throughout the world be fed, that all people throughout the world have shelter and clothing, that all people throughout the world have access to quality health care; whenever anyone speaks of the God who does not favor any one person or nation over another; whenever anyone speaks of the God whose power, glory, and might most brightly shine forth from the cross where God refuses to visit vengeance and destruction upon anyone – no matter how heinous their actions – well, whenever anyone proclaims that sort of God, one is not going to be popular. Just the opposite: proclaim the God whose will it is to love the unlovable and forgive the unforgiveable, proclaim the God whose will it is to be found in the very last places we would expect or want God to be found, that is, with sinners and outcasts – well there’s going to be pushback – and from every quarter. Even the disciples themselves – even we-the-disciples ourselves – lose trust in the promises of the God of love – and so turn our backs on faith and take matters into our own hands. Gotta be practical, gotta be prudent you know. And there we are – proving ourselves once more to be addicted to our ways, to our need for control, to our need to shove God off the throne so that our will be done, on earth and in heaven.

The cure for all of this, of course, is simple. It’s called death – and nothing but death will free us of our addiction to self, our addiction to power. And as St. Paul assures us – we are dead. United to Christ by God’s declaration and promise in Holy Baptism – with Christ, we have died to the ways of sin – and with Christ we have been raised to new life. And this, by grace – God’s free and unmerited gift – a gif that God will not take away. And so now we do live a new life – and though still trapped in the ways of the world that does not trust God, that is not how God sees us – that is not who or how we already are in the timeless dominion and sovereignty of God.

So –  what then of that cup of cold water given to the little ones that Jesus speaks of in today’s Gospel? Do we get a reward for that? No. Of course not. No, no, no, a thousand times no. We are already righteous, brothers and sisters of Christ and with Christ, inheritors of the dominion of GodWwhat more do we want? No, we offer a cup of cold water for the sake of the neighbor – period – and we do this with no ulterior motive, not to evangelize, not to show people how much we care. We do it simply because the neighbor is thirsty – just the same as any good atheist would do. And don’t worry – rubbing elbows with the atheists will not mean forfeiting your inheritance in Christ. That’s taken care of – and there isn’t anyone – neither Christopher Hitchens nor any other of the new atheists – and not even you yourself – who can make that inheritance go away. Ever. Ever. Ever.

In the Name of the Father, and of the +Son, and of the Holy Spirit! Amen.