The Subversive Message of the Gospel

 I have been spending much time reflecting on comments made by Russell Moore, who used to be one of the top officials of the Southern Baptist Convention. Moore says that he is alarmed by the growing number of Christians who believe the Bible and its teachings are “subversive.” In an NPR interview, Moore offers a story that highlights this view:

[The book] was the result of having multiple pastors tell me, essentially, the same story about quoting the Sermon on the Mount, parenthetically, in their preaching — "turn the other cheek" — [and] to have someone come up after to say, "Where did you get those liberal talking points?" And what was alarming to me is that in most of these scenarios, when the pastor would say, "I'm literally quoting Jesus Christ," the response would not be, "I apologize." The response would be, "Yes, but that doesn't work anymore. That's weak." And when we get to the point where the teachings of Jesus himself are seen as subversive to us, then we're in a crisis.

The more I engage scripture, the more I am struck that it is, indeed, a subversive book. Jesus continually turns the status quo upside down by making the last, first, by hanging out with “undesirables”, and by the orientation to faithful living he delineates in the Sermon on the Mount, one that is grounded in love not law. When held against the values of contemporary society, Jesus’ teachings are indeed subversive.

There are subversive acts throughout the Bible. Today’s lectionary reading from the Hebrew Bible is Exodus 1:8-2:10. Here, the Hebrew people are in Egypt, where Pharoah grows particularly paranoid by their expanding numbers. He orders all the midwives to kill any Hebrew boys who are born. The midwives, seeking to be faithful to God, let them live. When asked by Pharoah why there continues to be so many infant Hebrew boys, they stretch the truth: “Those Hebrew women are just so strong and vigorous. They give birth before we arrive!”

Pharoah takes his murderous plan further: he orders all Hebrew boys to be thrown into the Nile. One mother, however, hid her newborn son. When she knew she could no longer keep her child’s presence a secret, she doesn’t throw him in the Nile, but gently places him in a woven basket. She tells his sisters to follow the flow of the basket to keep an eye on him. Who finds the baby but Pharoah’s daughter, who scoops him up from the water. She knows that this must be a Hebrew child, yet, when the child’s sister asks if she should find a wet nurse for the baby, Pharoah’s daughter says yes. Not only does the mother nurse the baby, but Pharoah’s daughter even pays her to care for the baby. Pharoah’s daughter calls him “Moses”, meaning “I drew him out of the water.”

I am struck that these subversive stories are one of the reasons why in oppressive regimes, the Bible is often banned. There is a message of hope, liberation, and justice that crushes despair, oppression, and injustice.

What would it mean for you and your church to be subversive centers of God’s loving actions? Are you ready to engage in a Love revolution? What faithful acts of subversion and resistance is God calling you to, so that others might know of God’s love, compassion, and justice?

The Deadly Silence of Muzak Churches

 I love traveling across our area and seeing the towns and villages where our United Methodist Churches are located. As I stop to pray for the church, its laity, clergy, and ministries, I wonder what that church means to the community it sits in the middle of. Is it seen as a beacon of hope? A refuge from the storm? A place of welcome? A source where basic needs (like water and food) can be met? Does it offer a spiritual path that enriches the lives of those it touches? Does it matter at all to those around it? If it closed its doors the day after tomorrow, what would be different in the town? Would anyone even notice?

When I was growing up, we derided “Elevator Music” which was found in department stores, doctors’ offices, and, well, in elevators. Muzak was invented in 1934 by Major General George O. Squier as a way to send recorded music to businesses without the use of a radio signal. Science entered in when it was found that music could be used to bolster productivity in workers and calm people down. One of the company’s slogans was, “Muzak fills the deadly silences”. At the height of its popularity, Muzak reached tens of millions of people a day, from presidents and astronauts to someone in the produce section of a grocery store.

A professor at Queens College said of Muzak: “[it’s] a kind of amniotic fluid that surrounds us; and it never startles us, it is never too loud, it is never too silent; it’s always there.”

Sometimes, I wonder sadly if the same can be said of our churches.

Have our churches blended into the landscape so completely that people don’t even know we are here anymore? Are we “there” but not “out there” in a world that has so much brokenness and so many needs? Have we watered down Jesus’ message so much that it no longer startles us?

There are “deadly silences” in our churches and communities that the Church must speak into, bringing the light of God’s Love and the healing balm of the Holy Spirit as we minister as disciples of Jesus Christ. This is not the time for us in the church to fade into a comfortable background. Drugs and division, violence and viciousness are causing our communities to crumble.

How can you and your church move out of the background shadows and sing loudly and boldly a new song of hope, healing, and liberation, so that the entire community can dance to Love’s song?