Tuesday, February 25, 2014

Lee & Kirby & Rowling

What do Stan Lee, Jack Kirby, and J.K. Rowling have in common?
Hint:  The Gospel Lesson for this Sunday is Matthew 17:1-9:
Six days later, Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him. Then Peter said to Jesus, "Lord, it is good for us to be here; if you wish, I will make three dwellings here, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah." While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, "This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!" When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear. But Jesus came and touched them, saying, "Get up and do not be afraid." And when they looked up, they saw no one except Jesus himself alone. 
As they were coming down the mountain, Jesus ordered them, "Tell no one about the vision until after the Son of Man has been raised from the dead."
This part of the Gospel narrative is known as "The Transfiguration."  It comes just before the thrilling climax of the story.  Up until this point Jesus had been wandering the countryside, teaching and preaching and healing as he went.  And he certainly had ruffled a few feathers along the way.  What comes next is his final journey to Jerusalem—and the cross.  The Transfiguration is one last, big, in-your-face epiphany:  Jesus is physically transformed in a way that leaves no question in the minds of Peter, James and John as to who, exactly Jesus is.

As I was considering this lesson and how the Transfiguration revealed something important about who Jesus is, the first thing that popped into my head was Bruce Banner and his alter ego, The Incredible Hulk.  Banner/The Hulk were created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby and first saw print in 1962.  The basic concept is that, due to an accident involving radiation, when Banner—who is normally reserved and even withdrawn—he transforms into a huge, rage-driven, green humanoid with superhuman strength and that is largely invulnerable.

Banner is certainly not the Messiah, but his "startling metamorphosis" does reveal something about the man that is usually hidden behind the mask of social and emotional withdrawal:  a psyche fractured by the abuse of himself and his mother at the hands of his father when Bruce was a child.

Bruce Banner was still on my mind when I woke up this morning, but a new synapse fired.  There are a lot of geeky examples of transformations:  The Hulk, Captain Marvel, even Sailor Moon!  But none of them use the word "Transfiguration."  So I asked my wife, who has an English degree, what the difference is between "Transformation" and "Transfiguration."  She guessed that you transform something inanimate and that transfiguration must be for the living.  I pointed out that nobody uses the word "Transfiguration" except in referencing the Gospel narrative.  "That's not true!" she pointed out, "Harry Potter."

She's right.  Hogwarts had an entire class—indeed, there's an entire school of magic in Rowling's world—called "Transfiguration." But for the purposes of this post, I'd like to lift up just one example—the Animagus.  An Animagus is a witch or wizard who can morph themselves into the form of an animal at will.  But here's the interesting part:  the Animagus can only take on the form of one kind of animal, and they have no choice in what it is.  The animal they can transfigure into seems to be determined by their personality and/or some other internal traits.  So knowing that Professor McGonagall transfigures into a cat reveals something of who she is as a person.

A wise reader—whether they're reading a lowly comic book or a rightfully successful series of novels—when faced with a transfiguration, should ask themselves what it reveals about the character as a person. And a wise disciple should keep in mind what they've learned about who Jesus is as they begin that last leg of the journey to the cross. Be good to each other, Rev. Josh 022514 The scripture lessons for March 2nd—Transfiguration Sunday Year A—are:
Exodus 24:12-18Psalm 2 or Psalm 992 Peter 1:16-21Matthew 17:1-9



Tuesday, February 18, 2014

Still Alive

I kind of vapor-locked when I read the Gospel Lesson for Sunday—at least concerning this post!  All too frequently the stories at the center of the geeky things I love, whether they be in film, television, books, graphic novels, comic books, table-top role playing games, video games, have violent resolutions.  Even Portal, which I partially love because it's a first person shooter without all the killing, has a violent resolution.  One of the reasons the song "Still Alive" is so funny is because when GLaDOS (Genetic Lifeform and Disk Operating System) sings "...you broke my heart. / And killed me. / And tore me to pieces. / And threw every piece into a fire," she's not exaggerating!

So when Jesus tells us:
You have heard that it was said, 'An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.' But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer.  But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also; and if anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as well; and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile.  Give to everyone who begs from you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you.  
You have heard that it was said, 'You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you...
How in the world do I relate that to being a geek?  So much of what we love is an act of imagining that we're more powerful than we are—that we're powerful enough to violently oppose the people, institutions, snarky psychotic artificial intelligences, or what-have-you that seek to oppress us.

It's a seductive thing, power.  Vengeance.  I'll always remember coming back to my dorm room one day in college to find that my roommate had popped in my copy of The Crow.  "I'm conflicted," he admitted, "I don't like violent movies and I'm opposed to vengeance.  But I find myself cheering him on after what those people did..."

Then it hit me.  I couldn't believe it had taken so long to think of it!  The answer lay in the beginnings of my geeky tendencies, in a story where the hero does not kill the antagonist that has haunted him through three films, but rather chooses to believe that there is good in the antagonist.  A hero that wins by tossing his weapon aside and letting himself be completely defenseless:  Luke Skywalker.

I will always remember the sound of Emperor Palpatine laughing, praising Luke for literally disarming Darth Vader (a common tactic for both Jedi and Sith, it would appear!) saying, "Good!  Your hate has made you powerful.  Now, fulfill your destiny and take your father's place at my side!"  I will always remember the look on Luke's face as he stares at his own prosthetic hand, then at the place where Vader's hand used to be.  A look that turns to weary determination.  And... victory?  His answer and the sound of his lightsaber switching off are simlutanious—and they mean the same thing.  "Never." Luke tosses aside his weapon.  "I'll never turn to the Dark Side.  You've failed, your highness.  I am a Jedi, like my father before me."

Did Luke nearly die immediately afterword?  Yes.  But even if he had, he would have died a Jedi—not a slave to the Dark Side.  And Luke didn't die right then and there because his actions gained him an ally and redeemed the soul of his father!

I wish there were more stories like this one, stories that teach us that what violence does best is create more violence.  Stories where you win by powering down your weapons and tossing them aside.  Stories that show the power of loving your enemies...

May the Force be with you,
Be good to each other,
Rev. Josh
021814

The scripture lessons for February 23rd—The Seventh Sunday after Epiphany Year A—are:
Leviticus 19:1-2, 9-18Psalm 119:33-401 Corinthians 3:10-11, 16-23Matthew 5:38-48

Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Katniss & Rue

So, I'm finally getting around to reading The Hunger Games, by Suzanne Collins.  I've seen the first film, and I enjoyed it, and I received the whole trilogy for Christmas.  (I also received Dr. Sleep, by Stephen King, and I read it first...)  I know that usually I start with the scripture lesson(s) and move on to a geeky parallel or illustration, but I needed to say this first:  I do not appreciate spoilers and I do my level best not to commit them myself.  So consider this your spoiler alert, I plan on discussing some details of the plot of the first book of The Hunger Games trilogy later in this post...

The Gospel lessons for the past couple of weeks have been following along the teachings of Jesus known as "The Sermon on the Mount."  So called because a crowd followed him up a mountain.  And then he preached to them.  He starts off by turning the world upside-down (or right-side-up, depending on your perspective) in a theme that reoccurs throughout his ministry:  the last shall be first and the first shall be last.  He goes on to tell everyone that they're important—but only if they're responsible.  You are the salt of the earth and the light of the world--but what good is salt and light if you aren't doing the things salt and light are supposed to do?  He goes on to say that (despite what it may look like) he isn't trying to do away with the Law, but rather fulfill it.  This week's lesson features a series of references to the Law, "You have heard it said that..." followed by Jesus's assertions, "...but I say..."

Despite the "but" in these teachings, what Jesus is doing is not contradicting the law.  If anything, he's turbo-charging it!  "You have heard that it was said to those of ancient times, 'You shall not murder'; and 'whoever murders shall be liable to judgment.'  But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment...  You have heard that it was said, 'You shall not commit adultery.'  But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lust has already committed adultery with her in his heart..."

These teachings of Jesus have been the source of much angst and scholarship, and with good reason.  Who could possibly live up to these standards?  Why the harsh understanding of divorce?  Where is the Rule of Love in all of this?  How does this mesh with Jesus's other teachings on the subject of the Law?  (Matthew 15:1-20, for example.)  Ah... those are good questions, aren't they?

What Jesus is doing here, is not simply making the Law too difficult to achieve—although he is certainly declaring something more difficult than a literal reading of the Law would require.  Jesus is talking about the importance of relationships.  The Law is pretty clear on "don't kill each other."  Jesus is saying that simply failing to kill each other isn't enough—Jesus is talking about reconciliation.

God wants us to be in good relationship with each other.

And that's the piece that makes me think of The Hunger Games (believe it or not).

Again, I haven't finished the series—I've only seen the first film and and I'm most of the way through the first book—but it seems to me that one of the main lessons the protagonist, Katniss, needs to learn on her hero journey is to be in good relationship with the people around her—no matter what.  And I see this most clearly book-ended with a nameless gesture.  It's such an important piece of the story that I wish it had a name.  But then again, perhaps part of its power is in the fact that it represents something that goes beyond words.

In any case, the first time we learn of this gesture is in the immediate aftermath of Katniss rushing forward to take her little sister's place as Tribute to the titular "games."  In reality, The Hunger Games are a barbaric reminder to the twelve districts (twelve tribes?  Hmm...) that they had lost a rebellious war.  Two Tributes from each district—one male and one female, each between the ages of 12 and 18—are annually made to fight to the death until only one remains living.  Here's the moment as it appears in the book:
"Well, bravo!"  gushes Effie Trinket.  "That's the spirit of the Games!"  She's pleased to finally have a district with a little action going on in it.  "What's your name?"
I swallow hard.  "Katniss Everdeen," I say. 
"I bet my buttons that was your sister.  Don't want her to steal all the glory, do we?  Come on, everybody!  Let's give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!"  trills Effie Trinket. 
To the everlasting credit of the people of District 12, not one person claps.  Not even the ones holding betting slips, the ones who are usually beyond caring.  Possibly because they know me from the Hob, or knew my father, or have encountered Prim, who no one can help loving.  So instead of acknowledging applause, I stand there unmoving while they take part in the boldest form of dissent they can manage.  Silence.  Which says we do not agree.  We do not condone.  All of this is wrong. 
Then something unexpected happens.  At least, I don't expect it because I don't think of District 12 as a place that cares about me.  But a shift has occurred since I stepped up to take Prim's place, and now it seems I have become someone precious.  At first one, then another, then almost every member or the crowd touches the three middle fingers of their left hand to their lips and holds it out to me.  It is an old and rarely used gesture of our district, occasionally seen at funerals.  It means thanks, it means admiration, it means good-bye to someone you love.
From this moment out, aside from loving thoughts for the family and friend she leaves behind, Katniss does her level best to not be in relationship with anyone, let alone in good relationship.  After all, everyone she meets is either preparing her for her probable death or within days of trying to kill her.  Things don't really start turning around for her until she is in the Hunger Games, struggling to stay alive, and finds herself teaming up with little Rue.  Rue is one of the youngest tributes and reminds Katniss of her sister.  Even then, Katniss obsessive worries about the idea Rue getting killed and then about the idea of the two of them making it to the end and having to turn on each other.

And then Rue is killed, right in front of Katniss, who manages to shoot and kill Rue's assailant.  Normally, Tributes would gather what they can use from the corpses and then move away so those running the Games can retrieve the bodies.  But Katniss decides to demonstrate her relationship with Rue to the Capital and to all the people all over the Districts watching on television:
A few steps into the woods grows a bank of wildflowers.  Perhaps they are really weeds of some sort, but they have blossoms in beautiful shades of violet and yellow and white.  I gather up an armful and come back to Rue's side.  Slowly, one stem at at time, I decorate her body in the flowers.  Covering the ugly wound.  Wreathing her face.  Weaving her hair with bright colors. 
They'll have to show it.  Or, even if they choose to turn the cameras elsewhere at this moment, they'll have to bring them back when they collect the bodies and everyone will see her then and know I did it. I step back and take a last look at Rue.  She could really be asleep in that meadow after all. 
"Bye, Rue," I whisper.  I press the three middle fingers of my left hand against my lips and hold them out in her direction.  Then I walk away without looking back.
I won't tell you exactly how—just in case you're planning on discovering it for yourself after all—but Katniss finds all kinds of aid from all kinds of unexpected places as a direct result of that acknowledgement of her relationship with Rue.  And it marks the beginning of her being able to form other bonds, other relationships, that help her even more!

And... if the film is any good indication, that gesture has wider consequence than Katniss imagines...  but I guess I'll have to read more and find out for myself!

Work on your relationships,
Be good to each other,
Rev. Josh
021114

The scripture lessons for February 16th—The Sixth Sunday after Epiphany Year A—are:
Deuteronomy 30:15-20Psalm 119:1-81 Corinthians 3:1-9Matthew 5:21-37



Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Han Shot First

Last week I talked about how Jesus points out that we're living in an upside-down world—of course, if an upside-down world is all you've ever known, being shown that it's upside-down feels like having your world turned upside-down. In any case, what Jesus tells us is that the winners at life—are actually the poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, those who are persecuted—and reviled.  Weird, right?

This week, Jesus tells us that we're responsible for going out into the upside-down world and, you know, actually do something about it.  He uses some really great poetic imagery that some guy made a song out of once, but that's essentially the idea:  You're good, so go out and do something about this upside-down world!

Then Jesus says something that I've always had difficulty with:
Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfil. For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law until all is accomplished. Therefore, whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments, and teaches others to do the same, will be called least in the kingdom of heaven; but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.
Really?  Not one stroke of a letter?  What about the parts that assume it's ok for us to keep slaves?  What about the ban on short people being clergy?   What about the part that says we should stone our rebellious children to death?  Is Jesus really saying that we need to do those things and teach them to others?

I don't actually think so, and not just because the idea makes me feel all squidgy.  Jesus would be contradicting his own teachings if that's what he meant.  (Check out Matthew 15:1-20 for just one example.)  In fact, Jesus tells us exactly how he interprets the Law and the Prophets when he answers the question, "Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?":
He said to him, ‘ “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.” This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: “You shall love your neighbour as yourself.” On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.’
This Rule of Love is why we don't keep slaves or ban short people from being clergy or stone our rebellious children to death.  Well, that and the fact that we'd go extinct, right?

So what does Jesus mean?  Well, we should absolutely follow the Rule of Love.  But more than that, I think that Jesus is trying to point out that these upside-down things he's saying really do come out of his loving understanding of the Law and the Prophets—of scripture.  It's just that there's a difference between building on one's tradition and getting stuck in the past.

It's like when George Lucas re-released Star Wars Episodes IV-VI in their Special Additions.  Some of us were going to love them no matter what because, well, Star Wars!  Some of us went ballistic because how dare he change even one tiny piece of our beloved classic?  And some of us really struggled with the changes we noticed, one by one, and had to admit that some of them were for the better, some of them really didn't matter—and some of them were terrible.

In all honesty, I understand all three reactions but I only really respect the last one.  It feels equally unwise to love something without acknowledging its flaws as it does to hate something just because part of it changed.  But if you said, "Josh, some of the additional affects actually helped tell the story better.  But the extra ring in the final explosion looks silly to me.  And what's with Han shooting first?" I'd say, "Yeah, the ring is kind of silly.  But it doesn't really matter to the story.  Han shooting first changes his part of the story entirely though!  If he isn't an amoral scoundrel at the beginning of the story then it's not much of a surprise when he returns to save Luke at the end of the film."

Jesus is asking his audience to have the wisdom to go through the same process with scripture.  And Christianity is clearly at a point where we need to do the same with our current traditions.  We need to figure out which pieces are good, which don't really matter—and which are just terrible mistakes.

Be good to each other,
Rev. Josh
020414
The scripture lessons for February 9th—The Fifth Sunday after Epiphany Year A—are:
Isaiah 58:1-12Psalm 112:1-101 Corinthians 2:1-16Matthew 5:13-20