Everyone searched frantically, but nobody found their balloon. 

The teacher told all the students to pick up a balloon and hand it to the person whose name was written on it. Within 5 minutes, everyone had their own balloon. 

After they all settled down, the teacher said, “These balloons are like happiness. We will never find it if everyone is just looking for their own. But if we care about other people’s happiness, we’ll find ours too.”

Too much of Christian history has been us as individuals focusing on ourselves. 

Our own “Personal Salvation.” 

God is always trying to move us beyond that. 

To pay attention to the whole. 

To pay attention to the collective. 

In Exodus 3:7, God says to Moses

“I’ve clearly seen my people oppressed in Egypt. I’ve heard their cry of injustice because of their slave masters. I know about their pain. I’ve come down to rescue them.”

God shows up because God has “heard their cry of injustice.”

The Myth

There is a myth out there that people who are strong don’t complain. 

They don’t complain about the things that are wrong. 

They just grin and bear it.

Now, nobody wants to be around someone who is just complaining all the time and never does anything to try and change things. 

But being silent about issues, injustices, and things that are wrong also doesn’t change them. 

Sometimes people have a rule – “Don’t bring me a complaint unless you also bring me a solution.”

That may be the right move in some situations. 

But most of the time, the solution only comes because of the cries of injustice. 

And we’re in a culture that doesn’t want to hear it. 

It’s embedded in all kinds of little comments we make. Like the comment, “You can’t complain if you didn’t vote.” 

The sentiment behind that comment is that if you want to make change, voting is a good way to do it. 

Except, that phrase is typically geared toward one group of people…people who are left out and ignored. Usually, people who are poor, low-income, and minority groups. 

Even though people are trying to inspire other to vote with comments like that, what they actually do is silence people. 

I know countless people who do not vote because they aren’t feeling heard and nobody cares about them. 

They complain hoping somebody will listen to the injustice and harm they are experiencing. 

Actually, I lied. I don’t know “countless people.” We know the number of people who don’t vote. 

“Forty-seven percent of the voters are poor or low-wage workers.” (1) They have the lowest turnout of all groups of voters because nobody is talking about the issues and struggles they are dealing with. (The turnout among low-wage and low-income voters today is 20-22% below the average turnout).

Nobody is listening to them. Instead, in subtle, and sometimes unintentional ways, (but also in very intentional ways) they are silenced and told to not complain. 

But the very reason God shows up to rescue the Israelites from slavery in Egypt is because people who are suffering, oppressed, and in unjust situations cry out about it. 

Things change because we cry out. 

This is even true in our immediate relationships. Two people tend to have a lot more conflict when they don’t share their complaints or the ways they feel slighted or wronged. How would someone ever fix that? How would change ever come about if those things aren’t voiced? How will people ever see what’s going on?

Those things matter. 

Zora Neale Hurston was an author, documentary filmmaker and a central figure in the 1920 & 30s Harlem Renaissance (this was an explosion of African-American art, literature, music, and nightlife in NYC that was sparked when many Black people from the south fled up north).

She focused on the African-American experience and her struggles as an African-American woman. 

She said, “If you are silent about your pain, they’ll kill you and say you enjoyed it.”

Staying silent is a myth. 

God “comes down” when people cry out.

But God doesn’t show up and start hurling lightning bolts down from heaven or show up and automatically set things right.  

God comes down and gets involved by sending Moses. 

A person.

When God wants to get involved, God sends people. 

And if people are going to be sent, then people have to know that something is happening. 

We need the protests. We need the cries of injustice. We need the videos and tweets, sermons and newspaper articles. 

God is going to send people, but only if we continue to cry out about the injustice, oppression, and harm being done. 

Crying Out

My own tradition, United Methodism, calls this “Social Holiness.” We take a stand on issues of injustice and oppression, and invite people to work to better these situations. 

We literally write down and call out injustice like lack of clean water, gun violence, hunger, poverty, the death penalty, the importance of a living wage, responsible lending practices by institutions, national budgets, education reform, and the disarming nuclear weapons.

We even call out the injustice of Israel and Palestine. 

We don’t always know the answers for how to fix things…but we know that if we don’t speak about it – nothing will change.

The students protesting on college campuses are crying out about the injustice, knowing that this is how things will change. 

If we don’t say something, how will people know God is calling them?

If we don’t say something, how will people know God is sending them?

Archbishop Desmund Tutu was a Christian leader in South Africa during the time of Apartheid – when Black people were oppressed in South Africa. He helped lead the work for justice.

I love this statement that’s attributed to him: “Every church should be able to get a letter of recommendation from the poor in their community.”

Are we paying attention to the cries? Are we crying out ourselves? 

It’s easy to ignore this stuff. But we are all connected. All of these issues matter and impact all of us. 

We rise and we fall together. 

God’s Representative

Sometimes I find that being God’s representative is difficult, not because I don’t care…but because I don’t know what to do.

It all seems too complicated and more than I can handle, take on, or have the understanding for…

But a lot of times that’s because I’m trying to take on a role that isn’t mine. 

College students across the country have been protesting on their campus to call on the U.S. and their schools to stop funding Israel’s war on the Palestinian people. Thousands of innocent children, women, and civilians have been killed and are being killed. 

The students are paying attention to what they can do. They’re crying out about it and crying for change to happen, for this slaughter to stop. 

They have heard the cries and they know this is a way they can respond. 

It may not be the whole answer. 

But they know they are called to this role at this time. 

Conclusion

We can’t stay silent. 

This is the way God “comes down.” 

This is how the Kingdom of God shows up. 

It’s not a “Personal Salvation Project.”

It is about all of us being saved together. 

So may we cry out and trust God will “come down” to save us all.  

(1) https://www.commondreams.org/news/poor-people-s-campaign

You don’t need me to tell you that Mother’s Day is complicated for many. A two-second pause to contemplate the people in your life for whom the holiday might be painful would yield evidence enough that the day (and the church-backed events that it often brings) can be tricky. Instead, maybe we can ask why is that so?

My hunch is that the labyrinth of emotions accompanying this holiday has to do with the elevation and highlighting of a very specific relationship. And relationships are layered, sometimes strained, always unique. They are formed between people, and no two people are alike. A day to “celebrate mothers” feels not altogether different from declaring a day to “celebrate health.” Can you imagine? The pain that would come from those whose bodies have received diagnoses? From those who have learned from their faith communities to not trust their physical selves? From those trapped inside of addiction, or those raging against the institutions that compromise our wellness, or those who have been traumatized by diet culture? Health is complicated because it has to do with a relationship between a person and their body. “Celebrating health” would be an oversimplification of such a complex human experience.

So too with mothers.

Here’s a Mother’s Day litany that is also simplified for such vastly different connections and experiences that surround us. But, I hope it makes a little more room for a few more people.

 *****************************************************************

Needed: A candle and lighter, something to represent bread and wine for communion (a cracker and juice, toast and milk, etc), and a little cup of dirt (plus a seed, if available). If reading with people, one voice will read all unbolded sections while the group joins in for the bolded sections.

“If ever there is a tomorrow when we’re not together, there is something you must always remember. You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But the most important thing is, even if we are apart, I will always be with you.” –Winnie the Pooh

ONE: Right now, we push aside all the feelings we “should” have and people we “should” be, and we open wide our doors to what is

ALL: Welcome, old grief; 

Welcome, new reality; 

Welcome, fear; 

Welcome, worry; 

Welcome, exactly who we are right now

ONE: As we light this candle, we declare this space for remembering and honoring the children and parents we miss during Mother’s (and/or Father’s) day(s)

ALL: Be with us, saints; 

Be with us, Spirit

Song: Let It Be

ONE: For children who had to say goodbye to parents when they should have had so much more time

ALL: We hold you now: (name any names aloud)

ONE: For children who have watched the minds and bodies of parents deteriorate, no longer able to recognize or remember

ALL: We hold you now:

ONE: For children whose parents were unable to offer their presence or resources, children who ached to know a different kind of paternal or maternal love

ALL: We hold you now:

ONE: For children who have lost parents to suicide, disease, estrangement

ALL: We hold you now:

ONE: For children who wrestle with the complexities of their birth parents, adoptive parents, and foster parents

ALL: We hold you now:

ONE: For children who are navigating the milestones of life without their mothers or fathers there to call for recipes and family histories and old stories that have faded with years

ALL: We hold you now:

ONE: For LGBTQIA+ children who do not have homes to which they can return

ALL: We hold you now:

ONE: For children who were abused in a multitude of ways:

ALL: We hold you now:

ONE: For children who dread the holidays because of their voids

ALL: We hold you now:

Scripture: Matthew 5:1-12

ONE: For parents who birthed babies straight into the arms of God

ALL: We hold you now:

ONE: For parents who have lost young children to disasters that make this life seem too unfair for the human heart

ALL: We hold you now:

ONE: For parents who have raised their grandchildren or other relatives because of a lost life or reality

ALL: We hold you now:

ONE: For parents who have lost children to suicide, disease, estrangement

ALL: We hold you now: 

ONE: For parents whose children were unable to offer their presence or connection, parents who ached to know a different kind of familial love

ALL: We hold you now:

ONE: For parents who have received a gutting diagnosis

ALL: We hold you now:

ONE: For parents who are raising children, and working jobs, and running households by themselves

ALL: We hold you now:

ONE: For birth parents who wrestle with the complexities of hard decisions and limited resources

ALL: We hold you now:

ONE: For adoptive and foster parents who wrestle with the complexities of hard questions, identity narratives, and ethics

ALL: We hold you now:

ONE: For migrant and refugee parents who are risking everything (even separation) for a better life for their children

ALL: We hold you now:

“If I had lost a leg—I would tell them—instead of a boy, no one would ever ask me if I was ‘over’ it. They would ask me how I was doing learning to walk without my leg. I was learning to walk and to breathe and to live without Wade. And what I was learning is that it was never going to be the life I had before.” –Elizabeth Edwards

ONE: To those who are not biological parents, but who step in to mother and father so many around them

ALL: We honor you now:

ONE: To those who chose not to be parents in a culture that so often pressures otherwise

ALL: We honor you now:

ONE: To those who would choose to be parents, or parents again, but who grieve the loss of a dream

ALL: We honor you now:

ONE: To those who have redefined family to go past lines of biology, nationality, and economics

ALL: We honor you now:

ONE: To those who did the best they could with what they had when they had it

ALL: We honor you now:

ONE: To those versions of ourselves that we never turned into, and the versions of ourselves that we did

ALL: We honor you now:

ONE: To the voices we wish we could hear say “Happy Mother’s and Father’s Day”

ALL: We honor you now:

ONE: To the ears to which we wish we could say “Happy Mother’s and Father’s Day”

ALL: We honor you now:

Scripture: John 1:5

“Sorry, but you don’t really get a choice—you keep waking up and you keep breathing and your heart keeps on beating. And because your blood hasn’t stopped moving through your body, your stomach gets hungry, and then your mouth eats. This is how it goes. Your sad little heart becomes a force of nature. Despite the depth of its wounds, it just keeps going and then the rest of your body has to follow. You eat. You sleep. You sit, and stand, and walk. You smile. Eventually, you laugh. It’s like your heart knows that if it keeps going, so will you. And your heart hasn’t forgotten how good it is to be in the world, so it pushes on, propelling you along to the fridge, the shower, a family dinner, coffee with a friend. In doing these things, your spirit catches up with what your heart already knows; it’s pretty good to be alive. I guess what I’m getting at is that if you too are mired in the early days of unimaginable loss, the only thing to do is follow your heart. Then listen to your body. And keep…going.” –Jamie Wright 

Song: Great is Thy Faithfulness

ONE: Hear our words to those we miss

ALL: Meet us in our celebration and in our grief 

Communion

ONE: The body of Mary’s son, broken for us

The blood of God’s son, poured out for the world

ALL: Thank you Jesus for the bigger picture of resurrection

ONE: God’s family table is open to all who wish to partake, in your homes, on these screens, though separated we are one.

(Participants hold cup of soil—and a seed if possible—in their hands.)

Remind us, God, that our faith makes room for death, that our faith can hold endings, though they are excruciating and devastating.

(Participants push seeds into dirt.)

Remind us that in a backwards kingdom, end is beginning, last is first, and burial is birth…eventually.

ALL: Thank you for love that was, is, and is to come. Amen.

Go now in the peace that passes our understanding.

I am not a Catholic. In fact, I was raised in the charismatic, protestant church in Scotland. A faith tradition which taught us that, “praying to saints” (especially Mary) was idolatry. 

This morning however, just after my husband read me the news about the escalating situation of war in Israel, Gaza, and Iran, I found myself praying with, and even to, Mary the mother of Jesus. 

For some years now, beginning in a time of deep grief, God has been “turning up” for me … with me … in me … beside me … as my Mother. The tender, loving, yet incredibly fierce and creative Life Force, which birthed our universe and our existence. An Eternal Womb in which I’m always held. This has been a wonderful “widening out” in my understanding of God and has brought great healing to my deepest wounds; in a way which only incredible intimacy can. 

But, unlike many others – who are also currently discovering the Divine Feminine Presence of God – I’ve honestly never given much thought to Mary of Nazareth, the earthly mother of Jesus. 

That was, until recently, when I spent some extended time in Mexico and found myself entranced – and frankly enchanted – by the incredibly abundant images, literally everywhere (murals, graffitied walls, bumper stickers, tattoos) of Our Lady of Guadalupe. 

For those of us without much knowledge of Catholic faith traditions, Our Lady of Guadalupe is a “Marian” apparition. That is, an appearance of Mary, the mother of Jesus, who came to an indigenous man, San Juan Diego (Cuauhtlatoatzin – Talking Eagle – was his indigenous name) in Mexico, 1531. 

The story tells us that after several divine meetings between the two: San Juan and Guadalupe. Meetings which took place over a period of several days. Meetings in which she beckoned, encouraged and instructed him; Guadalupe’s image was miraculously imprinted on this ordinary man’s cloak. This miraculous “painting” is still with us today and is available to view at the Basilica of Our Lady of Guadalupe, in modern day Mexico City.

Here’s the thing … I, as a good protestant girl, wasn’t raised to be intoxicated by the smells and bells of Catholic “superstition”.  I was taught, not to use saints as intermediaries, but to address the Divine directly and on my own behalf. In the faith tradition of my childhood, we weren’t permitted to pray to an image, nor worship idols … but, suddenly here I was, surrounded by endless, almost omnipresent, images of this Mexican-indigenous “Mary” and I found myself enamored by her. 

I snapped photos of her on every walk and at every stop sign, until my phone and Instagram account were full. I found myself sketching her over and over in my journals; researching the meanings hidden in the symbols of her dress, her pose and her face. What could this alluring … comforting … almost protecting image possibly mean!? Why did it strike me so much? How had it inspired such incredible devotion in the people of Mexico? 

As I began to allow myself to surrender to the call, I found that in drawing her … piece by piece … again and again … I was sketching out a map of God.

Much like my ancestors – the ancient Celts – with their “three leafed” Celtic knot describing the mystery of the Trinity, I discovered that the people of Mexico had also been given a symbol to aid them in their understanding of the Infinite. This map came to them through an image of Mary … a poor, brown, pregnant, unwed, teenage, praying girl.   

Of course, my firmly western, pragmatic, protestant brain could hardly handle this kind of mystery! Mary was a human girl … like me. Not God. Not the Divine one. Not even the Holy Spirit, who I had come to know, so tenderly, as Mother. I wrestled with the “either – or” of the whole situation and rubbed my eyes again and again in frustration at this new vision of oneness that God was so kindly showing me about Herself and her saints; her dearly loved ones. 

During the last couple years this oneness has sunk into my heart, where my brain couldn’t receive it. I have begun to let go and trust. Christ is the Vine and I am one of the branches. I cannot find the line where God ends and I begin, so why should I feel such a desperate need to draw that line anywhere else? 

This morning, as we listened to the news coming out of the Middle East: that war may escalate and more  mothers will be torn from their children, more husbands may lose their wives, more babies may be blown up, orphaned  and abandoned, I found the words of the Hail Mary prayer … a prayer which I learned accidentally, growing up  surrounded by Catholic neighbors in a nation which was fiercely divided by religion … I found the words of Hail Mary, tumbling through my mind and out my mouth. 

Mary, that most Middle Eastern of mamas. She who knows the terror of occupation, the constant threat of murder. She, who watched her dearest child be ripped from her life by political mob violence. 

Mary, this Mary, who still dared to call herself “blessed” in spite of it all. Mary, who trusted in the resurrection long enough to see the crucifixion through. 

I found myself praying to Mary, with Mary, through Mary and with the Holy Spirit which binds us both together as children of God … praying for the mothers who are caught in this awful war. 

“Hail Mary”   

Mary … my heart salutes you, my heart salutes your heart … and through your heart I acknowledge and  listen … to God, who is our Deepest Mother. 

“full of grace” 

Through you I see the grace that is ours 

You who said, “let it be” 

You who opened yourself wide, in deep trust 

who gave your “yes” to God

Your yes to pain, your yes to joy, your yes to life and your yes to death … even the death of your own son 

“Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus” 

This part of the prayer makes me choke with tears, 

because you are a human woman, a mother, a fruitful womb 

just like me, just like our sisters 

a woman who lived under the fierce violence of Occupation 

an Occupation which killed children and tore babies from their mothers 

You, like so many, had to flee to save your child’s life, 

to save him from a deadly force, breathing out violence against you, 

threatening to take his life – his tiny, precious life – away. 

We look at the horror unfolding in your homeland, and we wonder, “How could anyone slaughter children?” Oh Mary 

Oh dear Mother-God 

You know the fear and terror the mothers of Gaza and Israel face 

And yet still, 

still you called yourself, “Blessed”! 

You, whose very name, Miriam, means “sea of bitter tears”. 

You, whose son was murdered by mob-violence 

by an absurd system, calling itself just! 

You who knew agony as deep as the sea 

You named yourself, “Blessed”. 

You even foretold that we would call you “Blessed”. 

By doing this, you teach us 

To call ourselves 

To call all mothers … 

To call all children, fruit of our wombs 

“Blessed” 

“Holy Mary, Mother of God” 

You, who carried God in your womb 

who, like all of us, carried the Divine within you 

who, like all mothers, grew and bore, loved and raised, a child of the Creator. 

“Pray for us, now and at the hour of our death” 

Pray for us …now and in all our deaths 

our daily deaths and losses 

our minute-to-minute worsening griefs 

too deep for words 

pray for us. 

Holy Spirit pray for us … within us … around us … over us. 

Your hand is always on our eyes – to light the way 

Your hand is always on our hearts – to still the storm of panic   

Your hand is always at our backs – to catch us as we fall 

You, Spirit, Mother of all mothers, hold us, carry our wounds. 

shed our tears and grieve our deepest grief   

Pray for us Mother, 

As we pray with and for the mothers, the sisters, the daughters, in Israel and Gaza, who are all your children. They are all us

We are all them 

within your holy love 

Amen. 

Let it be. 

In closing, please allow me to share with you why I feel it is such an incredible gift for me, as someone raised protestant, to feel invited by the Spirit to meditate on the words of the “Hail Mary” prayer.  

The place in which I was raised, the west of Scotland, was incredibly divided for generations – politically,  socially and religiously – between Catholic and Protestant. As you likely know, Northern Ireland, just thirty miles across  the sea from us, experienced decades of life-wrecking violence. After generations of hatred and loss – peace,  reconciliation, understanding – these things just seemed impossible. Yet in recent decades they have miraculously arrived.  

This Easter Sunday, just a few weeks ago, my parents sent me pictures of their Easter gathering in Scotland.  Starting at the local Catholic church, members from various denominations walked together from church to church,  singing, sharing and celebrating the resurrection together.  

It’s not just that it’s easier, or more pleasant, or a better life for all, when we have peace – but to feel actively  encouraged by the Spirit to engage in and understand one another’s prayers, surely this can bring us one step closer to  seeing an answer to Jesus’ own prayer for the human race: that we might one day, be one, and find ourselves empowered  to truly love one another.  

This must be our prayer too, not just for Israel and Palestine, but for the whole world. 

(RNS) — It is easy to despair over the Holy Land. For almost 80 years it has been a festering sore, and today, after decades of peace efforts, there is no end in sight.

After the genocide inflicted on Jews by the Nazis during World War II, Jews wanted a homeland where they could be self-governing and safe. Returning to Israel, their original homeland until the destruction of the Jewish state by the Roman Empire, was a longed-for hope.

For a variety of reasons (guilt, sympathy, geopolitical gamesmanship and even antisemitism), the West supported a Jewish homeland. Worries about the Palestinians currently living in what had been ancient Israel were put aside.

From a nation of refugees surrounded by enemies, Israel has grown into an economic and military powerhouse. A democratic ally to the United States, it has come to be seen as a bulwark against Iran.

But the Palestinian question remains. Many were pushed as refugees into Jordan. Others live under dire circumstances in the West Bank and Gaza. Angry at the loss of their land and independence, many have turned to violence. In a search for its own security, Israel has responded to violence with even more violence in an endless cycle that has no foreseeable conclusion.

International experts, including those in the Vatican, have insisted on a two-state solution where Palestinians gain sovereignty over the West Bank and Gaza in return for long-term peace for the Israelis. After previous steps toward the two-state solution have faltered, Israeli settlers have now occupied so much Palestinian territory as to make this impossible without their removal.

The terrorist actions of some settlers toward Palestinians have made peace more remote, while the Israeli government, turning a blind eye to settler attacks, severely punishes teenage Palestinians who throw rocks.

Corruption and incompetence among Palestinian politicians have made the two-state solution more difficult. Disillusioned, Palestinians in Gaza turned years ago to Hamas leaders who seek the destruction of Israel through terrorism and violence.

The latest war in Gaza was begun by Hamas, which attacked Israel, slaughtered civilians and kidnapped hostages. Israel’s military response went far past the usual retaliatory attacks, aimed at vanquishing Hamas once and for all. Tens of thousands of civilians have been killed, cities leveled. Women and children are now starving as refugees in the south of Gaza. Almost all food and other supplies are being held up at the border. One war crime (taking of civilian hostages) does not legitimate another (the starving of civilians).

The United States continues to call for a two-state solution while supplying Israel with billions of dollars in weapons and ammunition. Some Palestinians, meanwhile, have taken up the slogan “from the river to the sea,” even as some Israelis advocate pushing the remaining Palestinians from Gaza into Egypt and establishing a “Greater Israel,” its own version of “from the river to the sea.”

It is time for the United States to limit military aid to Israel to defensive weapons — continuing to supply Israel with anti-missile protection but preventing the use of our 500-pound bombs in Gaza, where they have resulted in widespread destruction and numerous civilian casualties.

Though it may have little impact on the war, such limits would send a signal that Israel must be more careful to avoid civilian casualties. We must insist that Israel allow food aid into Gaza.

American presidents have long failed to bring peace to the area, though a few, Jimmy Carter most of all, made incremental progress. But the land is at a tipping point. If Israel attacks the Gaza city of Rafah, where almost half of Gaza’s 2.3 million population have sought refuge, it will be a humanitarian catastrophe. If it results in pushing the remaining Palestinians into Egypt, which does not want them, such an attack will destabilize Egypt and provide another place for cross-border attacks on Israel.

Though a desire to destroy Hamas is understandable, Israel should remember that the United States felt the same way about al-Qaida. After it was destroyed, ISIS took its place. Destroying Hamas will not bring peace to Israel. Though Israel doesn’t want to negotiate with Hamas, it needs to remember that you negotiate with your enemies, not your friends.

Israel has squandered the sympathy of the world by its excessive use of force in Gaza. In the United States, 55% of the American people disapprove of Israel’s actions in Gaza, according to Gallup, while only 36% approve. Students are demonstrating against the war on college campuses, mostly nonviolently, but with some excesses we have come to expect from students.

It would be easy to give up on our own ability to talk about the Holy Land. Having lived through the protests against the Vietnam War, I am saddened that today’s college administrators, students and media are making the same mistakes as those of an earlier era.

Demonstrators need to police themselves so that the extremists who speak loudest do not appear to speak for all. They should do more singing and less shouting. They should express love, not hate. They should not alienate their fellow students by interrupting classes or graduation. The goal is to win people over to their side, not merely to vent anger.

Administrators should avoid calling the police, and instead encourage dialogue and discussion. They should encourage faculty to debate the issues. They should defend free speech but oppose violence.

And the media need to focus on the big picture, not the few excesses. They need to interview real students and campus leaders, not just the loudmouths. Sadly, it is still true that “If it bleeds, it leads.”

History gives us little reason to hope. Older Americans remember the disaster that was the 1968 Democratic Convention in Chicago. Its anti-war demonstrations and police violence led to the defeat of Hubert Humphrey by Richard Nixon, who continued the war until 1975.

Now, 56 years later, the Democrats are meeting in Chicago again. Chaos at this year’s convention could kill President Joe Biden’s chances of reelection and ensure victory for Donald Trump, who has promised to let Israel do whatever it wants.

So far, Biden has had little success in getting Benjamin Netanyahu to stop making war on Palestinian civilians. There is a glimmer of light in that Israel has allowed a few more aid trucks into Gaza and Hamas leaders have arrived in Egypt for talks. We have to persevere and have hope because the alternative is too terrible to imagine.

On April 9, 2024, a group of Christian leaders and theologians from across the Global North and South, issued the following response. I am honored to join this statement of confession, repentance and solidarity. It does not aim to repent on behalf of “the Western church.” Rather, this response was issued on our own behalf.

Since April 9, the State of Israel and the U.S. have erased more than 1000 Palestinian images of God. 1000 more were injured. This brings the current total killed, maimed or missing under the rubble to nearly 119,000.

We invite you to read this response and consider how your story intersects with the story of Christian thought formation concerning Israel/Palestine. If you find resonance with this letter, please join us in confession, repentance, and solidarity by writing your own confessions, repentance and pledges of solidarity in the RLC social media comments. – Shane

Beloved followers of Jesus Christ in Palestine, Israel, and the Palestinian Diaspora,

As we write, the death toll in Gaza has surpassed 33,000 images of God, including more than 13,800 children and 8,400 women. Nearly 76,000 people have been maimed and more than 8,000 are still missing under the rubble. Thus, nearly 117,000 Palestinians in Gaza have been killed, maimed, or buried under rubble since October 7, 2023. On that day, 1,139 Israeli images of God were killed and a further 130 Israelis are still held hostage by Hamas inside Gaza, at least 34 of whom are presumed dead. In the West Bank, 457 images of God have been killed. Every life is equally precious in the sight of God. We are broken by this destruction of lives, families, and communities.

Six months after Netanyahu ordered a blockade on all food, water, and electricity going into Gaza, 100% of the 2.2 million Palestinians in Gaza now face starvation, with half of the population (1.1 million) on the brink of forced famine, which experts predict will hit the population by May. We are broken by this destruction of lives, families, and communities.

The International Court of Justice has ruled Israel’s acts a plausible genocide. In addition, the United Nations Special Rapporteur on Human Rights recently reported: “There are reasonable grounds to believe the threshold indicating the commission of the crime of genocide…has been met.”

In this context, we, the undersigned, followers of Jesus from around the world, reflect on your letter with profound sorrow and grief. We are distressed by the loss of innocent lives, now ten times greater than at your initial writing. We are aware of the regional and global significance of what is occurring in Palestine and Israel, especially from your vantage point and from the perspective of human rights and humanitarian law. We acknowledge that complicity in this war is found not only in the West but in the Church around the globe.

While we cannot represent the “Western Church” today, we humbly receive and affirm your call for Western Christian leaders and theologians to repent of our biased disregard towards Palestinians and your unjust and devastating suffering as well as of all theological articulations that promote or justify it.

We hear your cry that we must see, hear, value, and trust your witness to the brutal suffering imposed by the State of Israel and strongly enabled by the military support of Western Countries led by the United States of America.

Collectively, we confess that at various points in our Christian journey, we have been influenced by, actively supported, and/or helped promote Zionist theologies.

We confess that we have failed to recognize the ways we have operated according to the logics of white supremacy; accepting the false narrative that Palestinian and Arab people are our inherent enemies.

We confess we have valued Palestinian and Arab lives less than others.

We confess that we have equated the State of Israel with the Israel of the Old Testament.

We confess that we have been afraid. Fearful of what others may say or think if we speak up, fearful of consequences to us – without thinking too deeply of the costs that you have paid.

We confess that we have let the sense of being so dwarfed by the powers of Israel/Palestine, the pervasive influence in America of dispensational eschatology, and the elephant of American militarism, that we have chosen silence rather than courage.

We confess that we have accepted the forced displacement of Palestinians from their homes and ancestral lands.

We confess that we have failed to speak up for a just settlement that allows all to live in peace and security.

We confess that we have done far too little to counter the dominant theology that supports the Israeli occupation and violence against those made in the image of God.

We confess that all too often particular theological perspectives have fueled blind support for the State of Israel and its actions. We recognize and accept Israel’s existence as a nation-state. Theologically, however, we do not believe that the modern state of Israel is the same as ancient Israel portrayed in Scripture, nor do we envision the modern state as a harbinger of Christ’s return. We reject all theological perspectives that promote Christian Zionism and justify Israel’s oppressive policies and practices towards Palestinians.

We repent. Repentance is a process. For some of us, this repentance journey began decades ago. For others, the journey began six months ago. Regardless of when our journey began, we commit ourselves today to sit together for mutual learning and dialogue, debate, and rigorous examination of biblical, theological, and political issues. We long for our assumptions and biases to be exposed, for teachability and deep love, in order to act out of deeper/ more faithful convictions. We want to learn and to listen to you, so you might help us be freed from our silence, paralysis, and unrecognized prejudice. As we all do our work in varied lands and contexts, we hold in common the reality of the love, mercy, and justice of God in Jesus Christ that is with us now and always.

We repent of our feeble advocacy, ignorance, and/or silence about this war, and about the underlying oppression of Palestinians. This leads us to humble dependence on God’s mercy. In the light of the suffering, resurrected Lord who laid down his life to defeat all the powers of death, vengeance, hostility, and oppression and rose again so that we can live reconciled to God and each other, we repent of all theologies and practical support that justifies oppression, hostility, vengeance, erasure, and death in the name of Christ.

We stand in solidarity with, and in compassion for, all who are suffering the death of loved ones, the daily violence and brutal injustices, and the oppressive forces that are erasing hope. Many of us have expressed our solidarity with such statements as that from INFEMIT, from the Archdiocese of South Africa, from Churches for Middle East Peace and from the global Gaza Ceasefire Pilgrimage, but we here now express our further solidarity.

We call for an immediate and sustained ceasefire, the unconditional end to the genocide in Gaza, ethnic cleansing in the West Bank, and an end to Israeli Occupation. We support a solution that leads to the restoration of political and social rights, self-governance, and the right of all Palestinians to self-determination.

Finally, sisters and brothers, we recognize that you have stood –and continue to stand– as faithful and courageous followers of Jesus of Nazareth, the Christ, amidst the long and daily horror of Gaza and the West Bank since Nakba, and even more intensively since October 2023. Though we have been inadequate in our solidarity with you, we now join you in faith and hope in the God who is seeking to remake our narratives for the thriving of all peoples in Palestine and Israel and beyond, and for the well-being of the entire creation. With you, we plead: Lord, have mercy on us!

With Love and Respect,
(in alphabetical order)

Rev. René August
Theologian and Priest,
Anglican Church of Southern Africa

Rev. Dr. M. Craig Barnes
Pastor

Dr. Michael Barram
Professor of Theology & Religious Studies (Biblical Studies)
Saint Mary’s College of California

Rev. Dr. Gary M. Burge
Theologian, Author, Educator
Emeritus Professor New Testament, Wheaton College

Rev. Dr. Mae Elise Cannon
Executive Director
Churches for Middle East Peace (CMEP)

Shane Claiborne
Author and Activist
Executive Director, Red Letter Christians

Rev. Dr. David M. Crump
Emeritus Professor of New Testament, Calvin University

Seblewengel Daniel PhD
Theologian and part-time Lecturer at the Ethiopian Graduate School of Theology

Dr. Bruce N. Fisk
Professor of New Testament, Westmont College (ret.)

Dr. Paul Bendor-Samuel
Physician and Mission Theologian

Dr. Ruth Padilla DeBorst
Theologian, Associate Professor at Western Theological Seminary
Coordinator, International Fellowship for Mission as Transformation (INFEMIT)

Lisa Sharon Harper
Theologian, Writer, Speaker
President and Founder, FreedomRoad.us

Amanda Kaminski, PhD
Assistant Professor of Theology
Texas Lutheran University, Seguin, Texas

Rev. Dr. Mark Labberton
Theologian, Pastor, Educator, and Author

Prof. Dr. Habil. Marcel Måcelaru,
Professor, Aurel Vlaicu University
Arad, Romania

Rev. Michael A. Mata
Educator

Jarrod McKenna
Nonviolent Social Change Educator,
Pastor and Theologian

Rt. Rev. Dr. David Zac Niringiye
Theologian, Author, and Bishop in the Church of Uganda (Anglican)

Dr. Soong-Chan Rah
Munger Professor of Evangelism
Fuller Theological Seminary

Dr. Vinoth Ramachandra
Author, Lecturer, and former Secretary for
Dialogue and Social Engagement for the
International Fellowship of Evangelical Students

Lisa Rodriguez-Watson
National Director, Missio Alliance

Rev. Dr. Brenda Salter McNeil
Speaker, Author, & Professor of Reconciliation Studies
Associate Pastor of Preaching & Reconciliation

Dr. Jer Swigart
Executive Director, Global Immersion

Nikki Toyama-Szeto
Executive Director
Christians for Social Action

Rev. Dr. Al Tizon
Lead Pastor, Grace Fellowship
San Francisco.

Rev. Dr. J. Ross Wagner
Theologian, Author, and Educator

Veena O’Sullivan
International Activist, Speaker

(Attributions are solely for identification purposes and do not necessarily represent the position of the institutions.)

A simple answer comes quickly, like a response whispered back to my doubts: I’m here to live a life of community, prayer, and service. I want my life centered around those three things. With community, prayer, and service at the center of my life, I might grow into a better version of myself, a better Christian and disciple of Jesus. These are the quick answers, in this inner conversation I go through every week or so.

I daydream about how it could work. Maybe I could gather a group of my friends and we could get a place together, then let people who are homeless live with us too. We could offer meals around our table and host prayer and workshops about social justice for the public. I guess what I want is a life like how Catholic Workers I know live. Would the Catholic Worker lifestyle fit me better? Would it feel more natural to live in a Catholic Worker house than hanging out in these old buildings, between these institutional walls?

Some friends have been sending messages, asking me if I’ve read The Irresistible Revolution: Living as an Ordinary Radical, by Shane Claiborne. Once I do, I weep as I take in Shane’s story and learn about the “new monastics.” I’m enamored by the description of how Shane and his friends live in an intentional community in one of the poorest neighborhoods in Philadelphia and serve their neighbors. I want to live simply with other Christians. I want to serve the marginalized too. That’s what Jesus modeled for us. I want to be close to the poor, close to Jesus. How is being a novice helping me to become a more radical Christian?

How could the structures, expectations and traditions of the Franciscan Sisters offer me freedom to serve the poor and radically follow Jesus like Shane and his friends are doing? I feel stuck and confused as I try to think it through, try to imagine how being a Sister will free me.

Sitting in the silent adoration chapel, I muse about my confusion and bob my head in prayer. Then, one afternoon, something happens inside me: I can only describe it as a widening in my heart. It feels like an opening, a gap that allows some light to soften the doubts tangled inside. This is where I am. I’m here with these good women. I’m lucky to be with them. They’re amazing! In the rays of light falling into me, a cavern is created for the Spirit to whisper. As quickly as I wondered why I haven’t yet left, I know why I’m here.

It’s the mothers. The spiritual mothers. The roots, the depth, the way that this form of religious life means I’m now in a beautiful web of connection, tradition.  The spiritual mothers are the women I’m interacting with daily. They are the gray-haired and stooping ones, who embrace me with their hugs, prayer, and notes of encouragement and love.

Then my mind flips through timelines and zooms to the spiritual mothers of the Middle Ages. It is St. Clare of Assisi and her Poor Ladies, in San Damiano. The mystics, and bold voices who spoke to power and advocated for reforms. Go back to Rome, St. Catherine of Siena told the pope who was lingering at Avignon! St. Teresa of Avila, outgoing (like me), and deep and intense, who was sought after for her spiritual wisdom, for her Interior Castle.

Being part of the Franciscan Sisters means I’m amazingly part of this lineage too.

These holy women are my mothers, my church, they are the reason I stay. Somehow, they help me know that I belong to this mystery, this communion. Somehow all of them are mine. I stare at the altar, the Blessed Sacrament gleaming behind the glass of the monstrance and I know: I’m their daughter, a little restless and weak, but I’m here for them, ready to learn.

Several years ago, I wrote Shane Claiborne and thanked him for writing The Irresistible Revolution. He wrote back, on the back side of a piece of scrap paper a hand-written response:

January Something 2009
Sister Julia —
Your letter warmed my heart. Thank you.
Sorry for the delay, it seems I stay behind on letters, but love writing—after all,
it’s an important Christian past time.
I admire your hope and discontentment—and certainly the Church needs both—it
is a beautiful thing to hear in your words the fiery passion of Francis and Clare—and the
humility to submit and seek the wisdom of elders. I’m also on an unfolding journey of
spiritual direction and discernment as I seek our Lover Jesus. Our communities and “new
monasticism” has its charm and fresh charism it also has its challenges and
vulnerabilities—and I think stability and supporting celibate singles, formation…are all
things we still are figuring out. So pray for us—I certainly will keep you in my prayers as
you continue the work of Francis and Clare “repairing the ruins of the Church.” You are
a gift to the FSPA. Send my love to all the saints and sinners there. May we continue to
become the Church we dream of.
Your brother—Shane Claiborne

Tucked inside the envelope I find a prayer card—with the classic peace prayer of St. Francis printed on one side and an image of Francis on the other—a tiny little plastic baggie filled with about a teaspoon of sand, and a rectangle of white paper with words printed on it: “This dirt is from outside San Damiano in Assisi, where little brother Francis heard God whisper: ‘Repair my Church which is in ruins.’” And he started working. May the repairs continue in us.

I want to scream with joy, to run around and tell all the neighbors about my mail. But I sit still, reading the letter over and over, soaking in its message of encouragement along with the affirmation of what I’ve been praying about: I’m here, I’m a Franciscan Sister, not because the community or the Church is perfect, but because, somehow, it is home. In this home, I get to serve. I give of myself and try to help the suffering parts of Christ’s body be healed, repaired. I hope I do; I hope I can.

Excerpt from For Love of the Broken Body: A Spiritual Memoir, by Julia Walsh. Rhinebeck, NY: Monkfish Publishing, March 2024. Used by permission of the publisher.

My Senses Are Awakened to Read God’s Presence.

In The Gift of Wonder, I talk about the practice of Lectio Tierra, a great way to attune our senses to the wonder of God. This practice is similar to Lectio Divina from which it is adapted. However, for me, it is a deeper experience because it involves movement and engages all the senses. 

Heading out into God’s very good creation, I read the environment around me. How is God present? What might God be using to catch my eye and draw me closer?  As I walk slowly and deliberately through the forest, I might stop to and examine an ancient tree, or casually walking through my garden I brush against my lavender bush and am captivated by the wonderful aroma, or on a day trip to Snoqualmie Falls I listen to the music of water cascading over rocks, my senses are awakened to “read” God’s presence. This is a practice that engages all the senses, my eyes, ears, touch, smell and sometimes taste, all open to what God might reveal to me. Anything that catches my attention and shimmers with the presence of God provides fuel for reflection.

A couple of weeks ago, my eyes were drawn to the gnarled and twisted branches of my old sage bush growing vigorously in my back yard.

I stop, look and listen, not forcing a revelation but waiting in silence for God to nudge me. I reached out and picked a leaf, and gasped in awe at the fragrance that clings to my fingers. I remember the times I picked leaves to flavour soups and chicken dishes for hospitality meals. We made smudge sticks and the burning of them provided a rich and pungent fragrance to the air. What other stories does it hold I wonder? How might it speak to me of God, now, today? 

Now I Meditate

Now I meditate. What lessons Jesus do you want me to learn through this sage bush, this leaf? I run my hands along the soft furry surface, of the leaf, then crush it between my fingers and am transported back in time. Sage has a very long and rich history due to both its medicinal and culinary uses. At one time, the French produced bountiful crops of sage for tea. Ironically the Chinese became enamored with French sage tea and would trade four pounds of Chinese tea for every one pound of sage tea. The Romans considered it had healing properties and for native Americans it is an important ceremonial plant, used by many tribes as an incense and purifying herb. I know it best for its culinary properties. I love to use it when I roast chicken or make vegetable soup.

It is possible that the burning bush in Exodus 3 is sage I remember. Should I like Moses take off my shoes as I meditate and acknowledge that in the presence of this small part of God’s creation I stand on holy ground?

I Pray

Now I pray. I thank God for this gift to so many cultures across the globe and throughout time and am reminded of Revelation 8:4 “The smoke of the incense mixed with the prayers of God’s people and billowed up before God.” I thank God for the fragrance that clings to me, and for the incense that rises from my life as I too am crushed and prepared for use. Perhaps others will brush against me and be awed by the incense of God in my life. Perhaps others will seek me out to add to their lives and savor who they are with the presence of God. I hope that my fragrance and flavor will continue to cling to others and be shared with all that I meet.

Lastly I contemplate

The last step is contemplation. I pause, running my hands over the fragrant fragments in my hand. I look around at the other plants in my garden. Some are greening after a long winter’s rest. Others are in bloom vibrant with color and fragrant with their own perfume. I am not alone. Incense rises to God from every part of this garden and from every person to raises a prayer to God. I breathe in and absorb the insights God has given me that enable me to move into a place of rest and peace. I can receive love, healing and grace from God, together with those around me, and with the witnesses of every tribe and nation that have gone before me. I feel at one with God’s world and will all that help me move towards God’s wholeness.

Often in response to this experience I write poetry. Today I finish with this Ute prayer that I found many years ago and my heart overflows with thanksgiving.

Earth Teach Me to Remember
Earth teach me stillness
as the grasses are stilled with light.
Earth teach me suffering
as old stones suffer with memory.
Earth teach me humility
as blossoms are humble with beginning.
Earth Teach me caring
as the mother who secures her young.
Earth teach me courage
as the tree which stands alone.
Earth teach me limitation
as the ant which crawls on the ground.
Earth teach me freedom
as the eagle which soars in the sky.
Earth teach me resignation
as the leaves which die in the fall.
Earth teach me regeneration
as the seed which rises in the spring.
Earth teach me to forget myself
as melted snow forgets its life.
Earth teach me to remember kindness
as dry fields weep in the rain.

What might it look like to enter into Lectio Tierra?

According to legend, the organization I lead, the Fellowship of Reconciliation, was founded in August 1914 when a British Quaker and a German Lutheran shook hands at a railway station in Cologne. With England on the cusp of joining World War I, they pledged, “We are one in Christ and can never be at war.”

After Germany sunk the Lusitania ship in May 1915, American public support for joining the war swelled. But not everyone got on board.

Political activist and theologian A.J. Muste responded to his country’s gearing up for war by becoming a pacifist. His views resulted in him being forced out of his pastoral position. Likewise, pacifist and social reformer Jane Addams (who later went on to win the Nobel Peace Prize) was viciously criticized for calling the war “an insane outburst.”

Despite the pro-war hysteria that countries use to justify their military endeavors, conscientious objection remains a courageous option for those committed to peace. As the ongoing genocide of Palestinians unfolds in front of the eyes of the world, a couple of young Israelis are choosing this brave, though unpopular, path.

“Slaughter cannot solve slaughter,” 18-year-old Israeli-American Tal Mitnick said in December 2023 before receiving his first 30-day prison sentence for refusing to join Israel’s military.

The same week that Tal refused for the third time and received a third term in prison, he was joined by fellow teenager Sofia Orr. “I reject participating in the violent policies of oppression and apartheid that Israel has imposed on the Palestinian people, especially now during the war,” she said. On April 1, 2024, Ben Arad, inspired by Tal and Sofia, reported to jail as well. “Since the war began, I understood that I have an obligation to make my voice heard and to call for an end to the cycle of violence,” Ben said.

It’s not the sentences Tal, Sofia, and Ben are enduring that make their actions exceptional. They have options. In fact, 12 percent of conscripted Israelis get out of service through notoriously easy-to-obtain mental health exemptions. Instead of the 10-year terms that Russian draft evaders face, even when Israelis are sentenced for refusing, they receive consecutive sentences with breaks in between to see if they have changed their minds.

Tal, Sofia, and Ben are not being held indefinitely in overcrowded, abusive, deadly prison facilities like incarcerated Palestinians from Gaza and the West Bank. But, what Tal, Sophia, and Ben are doing is heroic and places them within a legacy of great peacemakers.

The earliest recorded act of conscientious objection occurred in 295 A.D. when Maximilianus refused his conscription into the Roman Army. He was beheaded for refusing to kill. Later, he was canonized as a saint.

Like Maximilianus, Austrian farmer Franz Jägerstätter was arrested and executed for refusing conscription by the Nazis. He wrote, “I find that [my hands being in chains is] much better than if my will were in chains. Neither prison nor chains nor sentence of death can rob a man of the Faith and his free will.”

When, in 1944, devout Quaker Bayard Rustin was sentenced to three years for refusing to serve in World War II, he devoted his prison time to racial justice work. A disciple of Gandhian nonviolence, he organized his fellow prisoners to resist segregation in the prison. He was so successful that the head of the prison described him as “an extremely capable agitator.” Upon release, he traveled the country organizing communities, including the “First Freedom Ride” in 1947.

James Lawson, also a student of Gandhi, spent 13 months in prison between 1951 and 1952 for refusing to serve during the Korean War. Lawson went on to become, along with Rustin, an essential advisor to Dr. Martin Luther King.

Since its campaigns were broadcast on TV across America, the civil rights movement challenged the public, especially American youth, to choose between justice and segregation — between equality and oppression. At the same time, there was a surge of draft evaders and conscientious objectors to the Vietnam War, including prominent leaders like “good troublemaker” John Lewis.

Refusing and avoiding conscription became so popular during the Vietnam War that President Nixon’s commission reported that the movement was “expanding at an alarming rate,” leaving the government “almost powerless to apprehend and prosecute them.”

With the majority of Israelis opposing an end to the war in Gaza and 72 percent of them supporting no humanitarian aid, Tal and Sofia are not part of a growing popular movement, like what took place during the Vietnam War. But their contributions to peace are no less important.

Whether or not other young Israelis join them in jail — Tal, Sofia, and Ben were part of a group of 200 Jewish Israeli 12th graders who pledged in August 2023 to refuse military service to protest the government’s effort to overhaul Israel’s judicial system — what Tal, Sofia, and Ben have done places profound marks on the pages of history.

Members and contributors to the Fellowship of Reconciliation include the likes of Jane Addams, A.J. Muste, Mahatma Gandhi, Bayard Rustin, Martin Luther King Jr., Daniel Berrigan, Dorothy Day, James Lawson, and countless other brave conscientious objectors and peacemakers.

Today, as the world is watching a genocide take place in real-time — as of this writing, the death toll in Gaza is approaching 32,000 and famine is setting in — FOR-USA is proud to be raising money for an ad in an Israeli newspaper lifting up two of the most important conscientious objectors of our time.

We’re aiming to raise $3,000-$5,000 to take out an ad in the Israeli newspaper Haaretz ‎הארץ calling for more Israelis to become conscientious objectors.

You can support this effort by making a donation online and checking the “My donation is in support of Israeli COs” box below the dollar amount you are pledging to donate or sending a check to FOR P.O. Box 271 Nyack, NY 10960 with “Israeli COs” on the memo line.

The disturbing origins of this custom Bible and the campaign to stop its proliferation.

During Holy Week, Donald Trump posted a video promoting sales for the “God Bless the USA” Bible.

The name is borrowed from a 1984 song of the same name by country singer, Lee Greenwood.

Trump’s shameless peddling of God’s word for profit garnered intense backlash and commentary online, but the saga of the “God Bless the USA” Bible goes back further than the former president’s ad.

Three years ago, I was part of a group of Christian authors who successfully lobbied our publisher Zondervan, a division of Harper Collins publishing, to refrain from entering into an agreement to print the “God Bless the USA” Bible.

HarperCollins Christian Publishing division, which includes Zondervan Publishing, owns the licensing rights to the New International Version (NIV) translation—the most popular modern English translation of the Bible.

The company, Elite Source Pro, petitioned Zondervan for a quote but never entered into an agreement. Nevertheless, marketing for the “God Bless the USA” Bible advertised it as the NIV translation.

Hugh Kirkpatrick heads up Elite Source Pro and spearheaded the effort to produce the “God Bless the USA” Bible.

In an article at Religion Unplugged, where this story first broke in May 2021, Kirkpatrick explained the origins of this custom edition of the Bible.

The idea began brewing in fall 2020 when Kirkpatrick and friends in the entertainment industry heard homeschool parents complain that public schools were not teaching American history anymore— not having students read and understand the U.S. Constitution and Bill of Rights.

“We noticed the divide in the public where some people started seeing pro-American images like the flag, the bald eagle, the statue of liberty as weaponized tools of the Republican party, and we didn’t understand that,” Kirkpatrick said.

Then in the height of Black Lives Matter protests, activists began tearing down or destroying statues and monuments they connected to racial injustice.

“In past civilizations, libraries have been burned. Documents torn down. We started seeing statutes coming down and we started seeing history for good or bad trying to be erased,” Kirkpatrick said. “That’s when we started thinking, okay how far does this erasing of history go? Love it or hate it, it’s history. But how far does it go…? Part of having these statues … is so that we don’t repeat those same mistakes.”

A custom Bible inspired by reactionary sentiment opposing Black Lives Matter protests is concerning on its own.

Kirkpatrick apparently failed to understand why Black people and many others would want to remove public homages to slaveholders and the violent rebellion they led against the United States.

Nor did Kirkpatrick manage to spot the irony of printing a Bible that honors the United States while defending statues of Confederate leaders who attacked the Union.

Once the news that Zondervan was in talks to print this Bible came out, several Christian authors who had published with them approached me about publicly opposing the deal.

All of my books, so far, have been published through Zondervan, including my forthcoming book The Spirit of Justice: Stories of Faith, Race, and Resistance.

I was eager to join in the protest.

The effort to stop the deal included an online petition that said,

Zondervan/HarperCollins has a been a great blessing to Christian publishing for many years. But a forthcoming volume damages this fine record. To commemorate the 20th anniversary of 9/11 Zondervan has licensed releasing the “God Bless the USA” Bible that will include the U.S. Constitution, Bill of Rights, Declaration of Independence and pledge of allegiance, in addition to the lyrics for the song of the same name by country singer Lee Greenwood., “God Bless the USA.” This is a toxic mix that will exacerbate the challenges to American evangelicalism, adding fuel to the Christian nationalism and anti-Muslim sentiments found in many segments of the evangelical church.

The campaign to stop Zondervan from printing the “God Bless the USA” Bible also included a letter by Shane Claiborne of Red Letter Christians and several other Christian authors, including me, as co-signers of the statement.

The letter read,

This customized Bible is a reminder that the “Christian industry” must do better to stand against the heretical and deadly “Christian” nationalism that we saw on full display on Jan. 6.  It is like a spiritual virus, infecting our churches, homes and social institutions.  Just as we take intentional actions to stop the spread of COVID, like wearing masks and staying six feet apart, we must take concrete steps to stop the spread of this theological virus.

The letter continued with a theological and pastoral word about the Bible.

We don’t need to add anything to the Bible. We just need to live out what it already says.

And if we are to be good Christians, we may not always be the best Americans.  The beatitudes of Jesus where he blesses the poor, the meek, the merciful, the peacemakers – can feel very different from the “beatitudes” of America.  Our money may say in God we trust, but our economy often looks like the seven deadly sins.  For Christians, our loyalty is to Jesus.  That is who we pledge allegiance to.  As the old hymn goes – “My hope is built on nothing less than Jesus’ blood and righteousness/ On Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand.”  Our hope is not in the donkey of the Democrats or the elephant of the GOP… or even in America.

Our hope is in the Lamb.  The light of the world is not America… it is Christ.

Our endeavors were successful, and Zondervan did not enter into an agreement to publish an NIV translation of the “God Bless the USA” Bible.

That’s when Kirkpatrick decided to pursue a King James Version (KJV) of the Bible because that translation does not require copyright permission in the US.

The fruit of Kirkpatrick’s effort is an official endorsement by Donald J. Trump and Lee Greenwood and the latest push to sell “God Bless the USA” Bibles at a cost of $59.99.

The purveyors of this custom Bible fail to see, refuse to see, or simply don’t care that the United States is not a church or God’s holy nation.

They continue to spew myths that the United States was founded as a Christian nation and that the government should favor one religion for special privileges above all others.

Including political documents in a Bible translation is as blatant a blend of religion and politics as it gets. It is a physical flouting of the separation of church and state.

The multi-year crusade to produce the “God Bless the USA” Bible demonstrates that white Christian nationalism is not going away, and its advocates have the will and the means to secure their desired ends.

As we hurtle closer to the 2024 presidential election—likely a rematch between Biden and Trump—Christians must loudly and consistently oppose any movement to make Christianity synonymous with the political power structure.

We must oppose the “God Bless the USA” Bible as white Christian nationalist propaganda because Jesus said, “I will build my church,” not “I will build this nation.”

TRANSCRIPT:

We got into good trouble on Good Friday.  Twenty-five people were arrested for a nonviolent direct action at the headquarters of Lockheed Martin, the world’s largest weapons contractor, where the weapons being used in Gaza are made.  

Hundreds of other joined in the action during Holy Week as members of the Gaza Ceasefire Pilgrimage walked over 20 miles, roughly the length of Gaza, from the Liberty Bell to Lockheed Martin.

Here’s why we did it. 

The event was part of a global movement with similar walks happening in over 200 cities around the world, in every continent including Antarctica. 

Our message is simple.  End the genocide – we need a permanent lasting ceasefire, now.  Let in the aid – collective punishment and forced starvation are evil and morally indefensible.  Release all the hostages.  And stop sending weapons and funds to Israel, weapons like those made at Lockheed Martin.  

On October 7, some 1200 precious lives were lost, every one of them a sacred child of God, made in the image of God.  The world stood with Israel against the merciless slaughter and terror of October 7.  And we must not hesitate to stand against antisemitism today.

But in the days since October 7, we have watched the State of Israel pour out its wrath on the people of Gaza, killing around 200 a day, one child every 10 minutes.  Often using the Bible as a weapon to justify their revenge.  

Two wrongs don’t make a right… that’s what my momma taught me.  

In the past 170 days since October 7, over 32,000 people have been killed… 15,000 of them are children.  And over 74,000 people have been injured.  

Thousands are missing under the rubble.  We are watching a genocide, ethnic cleansing – livestreamed on social media, and most of our leaders are silent or even complicit.  As Palestinian pastor, Rev. Munther Isaac has said, “Gaza is become the moral compass of the world.”  

To speak out against the violence of October 7th does not make you anti-Palestinian.  It makes you decent, human, moral, and compassionate.  To speak out against the violence since October 7th is not to be antisemitic or pro-Hamas… it is to be decent, human, moral, compassionate.  

One of the central convictions of Christianity is that there is a God who is near to the suffering, to the poor, the widows and orphans, and to all those who are victims of violence.  Jesus left all the comfort of Heaven to be born as a brown-skinned, Palestinian, Jewish baby, born as a refugee during a genocide under King Herod… born homeless in a manger, from a town called Nazareth where people said nothing good could come… arrested, terrorized, tortured and executed on a cross.  On Good Friday, Christians around the world remember in a special way that Christ is God’s act of solidarity, as he endured the most horrific violence on the cross, and subverted it with love, forgiveness, and an empty tomb.  It is Christ who said, “Blessed are the peacemakers for they are the children of God.” It is Christ who rebuked his own disciples when they wanted to call down “fire from heaven” on the people of Samaria. And it is Christ, who scolded Peter when he resorted to violence, saying to Peter, “Those who live by the sword, die by the sword… put the sword away.”  

In the Easter story, Pontius Pilate washes his hands as Christ is being killed, attempting to wash the blood off his hands and pretend he was not responsible.  So that was part of our message at Lockheed Martin on Good Friday. Our lead banner read: “Lockheed Martin, YOU HAVE BLOOD ON YOUR HANDS.”

Ironically, Lockheed Martin covered up the large signs at their main entrance with large blue tarps and duct tape, making the point even stronger.  They literally tried to hide any evidence of their corporate logo as we gathered.   

You can’t make this stuff up. 

We made a banner with the numbers on it: “Over 32,000 killed.  Over 13,000 children killed.  Over 74,000 injured.”  And we all added our handprints in red paint, even little Eli added his for the babies in Gaza.  

Many folks left the paint on their hands as a reminder that the genocide in Gaza is not just being done by Israel.  It is being done with funds from the United States and weapons made in the United States, by companies like Lockheed Martin.  

The US gives Israel $4 Billion a year.  And Lockheed Martin makes billions more from weapons sales, with contracts that did not begin after October 7 but have a decades old history.  Since the 1970s, Lockheed Martin has provided the F-16s and more recently the F-35 fighter jets used in Gaza.  In 5 years, Lockheed sent 102 F-16s and 50 F-35s.  They also make the M-270 Multiple Launch Rocket System, and the Hellfire missiles that have killed so many people.  In the recent assault in response to October 7th, the US and Israel agreed on a new weapons package (two months into the genocide) to supply even more F-35 and F-15 jets as well as Apache helicopters.  So yes, Lockheed Martin has blood on its hands. They have made a killing off killing.  They have turned war into a billion-dollar business enterprise.  The old saying is correct: “If you want to stop war, figure out who is profiting from it.”  

That’s why we gathered at Lockheed Martin on Good Friday.  Even in the days since our vigil, we have seen even more unimaginable violence in the destruction of the Al-Shifa hospital and the Israeli bombing of the Iranian embassy in Syria… using weapons made by Lockheed Martin. 

As many fellow Christians bless the bombs falling on Gaza, weapons made at Lockheed Martin… we say NO, not in our name, and not in the name of our Savior.  As many Christians try to defend the violence of Israel being done in planes made by Lockheed Martin, we are calling for a ceasefire, and an end to the violence in the name of Christ, the Prince of Peace.

It was a diverse, interfaith gathering with people of all faiths as well as some folks who aren’t religious at all but are compelled by their conscience to stand against the violence in Gaza.  We had dozens of children of all ages. 

I’m guessing my little baby, Elijah, was one of the youngest at 12 weeks old, but he sure wasn’t alone.

There were babies in strollers and kids playing tag.  There were teenagers sitting on the Lockheed Martin wall with their feet dangling off next to a sign that read “Let Gaza Live.”  One of the kids held a homemade banner that read, “US Bombs Kill Children.”  

Another woman had a cardboard sign that read: “Pastor for Peace.”  Another read “Who Would Jesus Bomb?”  

The young and young at heart put a rhythm to our call for ceasefire, as they beat on large drums together.

One of the shirts we made for the Good Friday vigil has an iconic image of Jesus with his mother holding His face, next to a recent image of a mother in Gaza holding the face of her child.  

On the back, the shirt has the words of Jesus from Matthew 25: “Whatsoever you have done to the least of these, you have done to me.” 

A reminder that what we do to the children in Gaza we do to Christ.  As we force them to starve, we are doing it to Christ.  As we refuse to allow in clean water, it is Christ who goes thirsty.  As doctors are forced to amputate without anesthesia using cell phones as flashlights, we are doing that to Christ.  Lord, have mercy on us.  

ALSO SEE Good Trouble on Good Friday – Red Letter Christians

We held a sacred procession reminiscent of the many liturgical “Stations of the Cross” services I’ve attended over the years.  But this one was different – it was taking liturgy into the streets.  Protest done right can be a form of worship.  So, we carried the signs and banners, and slowly made our way to the main entrance of Lockheed Martin. 

We carried professionally printed posters with large photograph mages of the devastation from the bombing, and the shattered lives… each one branded with “Made In the USA.”  

And we carried six large black signs with the names of the children, a reminder that they are not just numbers.

Every one of them has a name, a precious child made in the image of God.  We carried thousands of those names onto the property of Lockheed Martin… an act that was part religious ceremony, part street theater, part public lament.  

As we crossed over the blue line that designates where the public property ends and the private property of Lockheed Martin begins, we were given a warning that we were trespassing and could face arrest.

The folks with the names of the children laid down on the ground, a profoundly moving posture in the rich tradition of “die-ins”.

Others of us began to sing.  Several participants unrolled yellow “Crime Scene Do Not Enter” tape and roped off the entrance, calling it what it is – the scene of a crime, a war crime. 

On the other side of the boundary, we laid several dozen red roses.  One after another, kids and adults brought those flowers over the blue line and laid them on the names of the children – it was all so powerful and moving. 

A Good Friday liturgy of lament.  A prophetic Easter message that death will not get the last word.  You can’t kill love. Love will rise again. 

As the police began arresting us, we sang hymns and freedom songs – “Down by the Riverside” and “We Shall Overcome” and “Ain’t Gonna Let Lockheed Martin, Turn me ‘Round.”  And we said the “Lord’s Prayer” which had a new ring to it as we said the part about forgiving us “our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us” as we were arrested for trespassing.  

Just before we began the procession onto Lockheed Martin, I had reminded the group of these words of Martin Luther King (whose assassination we remember on the anniversary this week), as he said this: “There is nothing wrong with a traffic law which says you have to stop for a red light. But when a fire is raging, the fire truck goes through that red light, and normal traffic had better get out of its way. Or when a man is bleeding to death, the ambulance goes through those red lights at top speed.”  

There is a fire raging in Gaza, and we need brigades of ambulance drivers who will ignore the red lights of the present system until the emergency is solved.  That’s why we were willing to go to jail.  

Dr. King reflected on how he was initially troubled to go to jail – but then he looked at history and saw what good company he had.  Indeed, all the way back to Jesus on that first Good Friday.  And Christians have been making good trouble ever since, stirring up holy mischief and challenging the systems that crush other people.  So, it was an honor to go to jail on Good Friday.  As John Lewis once said, when we get into good trouble we can smile in our mugshot because we know that we are on the right side of history.  

Without a doubt, our children and grandchildren will ask us what we did to try to stop the genocide in Gaza.  I am trying hard to be able to honestly answer them – everything we could, including going to jail.  In fact, I’ll tell my little boy Eli – it was your first protest.  And I know it will not be his last.

On the citation we were given, we have been charged with Disorderly Conduct, and underneath the charge is a section called “Nature of Offense” and they wrote the police officers wrote this in that section: “Defendant created a physically offensive condition by an act which served no legitimate purpose”. 

There was something offensive happening that day, but it was not our prayerful protest.  The thing that is offensive to God is making a profit off the mass destruction of human lives.  What was offensive was not those who laid down with roses on their bodies at the main gate of Lockheed, but it is the mangled bodies from Lockheed’s weapons that lay in the street and under the rubble in Gaza.  That is offensive to God.  

There was a crime committed at 230 Mall Blvd, but it was not prayerfully putting our bodies in the way of the flow of weapons of mass destruction.

As we taped off the entrance to Lockheed, we made it plain — the real crime scene is happening inside the headquarters of Lockheed Martin.  

We will not build a better world by killing other people’s children.  It’s time to get in the way of the business of war.  I am proud of the good trouble we got into on Good Friday, as we went to jail with Jesus.  

Too many lives have been lost.  It is time for us to turn up the volume for an immediate and permanent ceasefire.  And for many of us, we do this holy work in the name of our executed and risen Savior… that brown-skinned Palestinian refugee from Nazareth… Jesus the Christ.