"The Sunday After"

Photo by Jesse Mills on Unsplash

The First United Presbyterian Church of Loveland

“The Sunday After”

Rev. Amy Morgan

September 12, 2021

Isaiah 50:4-9a

The Lord GOD has given me the tongue of a teacher, that I may know how to sustain the weary with a word. Morning by morning he wakens-- wakens my ear to listen as those who are taught.

 5 The Lord GOD has opened my ear, and I was not rebellious, I did not turn backward.

 6 I gave my back to those who struck me, and my cheeks to those who pulled out the beard; I did not hide my face from insult and spitting.

 7 The Lord GOD helps me; therefore I have not been disgraced; therefore I have set my face like flint, and I know that I shall not be put to shame;

 8 he who vindicates me is near. Who will contend with me? Let us stand up together. Who are my adversaries? Let them confront me.

 9 It is the Lord GOD who helps me; who will declare me guilty? 

Mark 8:27-38

27 Jesus went on with his disciples to the villages of Caesarea Philippi; and on the way he asked his disciples, "Who do people say that I am?"

 28 And they answered him, "John the Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets."

 29 He asked them, "But who do you say that I am?" Peter answered him, "You are the Messiah."

 30 And he sternly ordered them not to tell anyone about him.

 31 Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again.

 32 He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him.

 33 But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, "Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things."

 34 He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, "If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.

 35 For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.

 36 For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life?

 37 Indeed, what can they give in return for their life?

 38 Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels."

On the Sunday after September 11^th, 2001, church leaders waited for throngs of people to fill their pews. Pastors had prepared sermons to comfort the grieving, to offer some kind of spiritual meaning to the suffering of a nation, to condemn evil, uphold unity, and to offer hope. As it happened, church attendance increased about six percent from the weekend before. But within a few weeks, it was back to pre-9/11 levels. 

The tragedy of 9/11 did not drive people back to church. In fact, the last 20 years have seen consistent and precipitous declines in church attendance. But all the Sundays after 9/11 did profoundly change the church. Or, more precisely, it profoundly changed the character of American Christianity. 

On the Sunday after 9/11, James S. Perkins, Pastor of Oak Hill Baptist Church in Buckingham, VA, preached these words:

America, the most powerful nation with her military might; America, the wealthiest nation with her economical and industrial might; America, alive and well! Without warning, The Unseen Enemy Strikes…Yes, my Christian friends, the enemy has been made visible through the tragic events of September 11. Please be mindful that we of the “household of faith” fight not against flesh and blood. The war that we are engaged in is spiritual. Our Commander-in-Chief is Jesus Christ, the righteous.

Church historian Kristin Kobes Du Mez, in her book Jesus and John Wayne, argues that throughout much of the 20^th century, white Christian evangelicals crafted an image of Jesus that was militant, masculine, and authoritarian. They cast Jesus as “a man’s man who takes no prisoners and wages holy war.” Perkins’s sermon reflects this image of Jesus, a Commander-in-Chief calling us to war against the power of evil. And while, according to Perkins, the war may not be against “flesh and blood,” it would not be long before spiritual warfare translated into physical warfare, overwhelmingly supported by Christian evangelicals like Perkins. 

In the late 20^th century, there was a struggle within American evangelicalism about how to define the enemy in the spiritual war they had been engaged in for decades. Enemies took the form of liberals, feminists, people who were gay or pro-choice, and schools that taught evolution and banned prayer. The war became cultural and highly political. The conflation of American military might and Christian cultural power overtook traditional theological convictions of Christian conservatives. The strength and security of our nation was attributed to the blessing and favor of God. 

And so, when our nation was attacked, when our security was destroyed, when our vulnerability was exposed, American Christianity itself was attacked, insecure, and exposed. And it responded like a wounded animal. 

Jerry Falwell and Pat Robertson blamed the attacks on abortion, homosexuality, secular schools and courts, and the American civil liberties union, asserting that this was God’s vengeance on a sinful nation. While President George W. Bush distanced himself from these ideas, he also invited Falwell to the National Cathedral the day following those remarks. Days after the attack, Bush visited the wreckage of the World Trade Center and promised retaliation, and months later our nation embarked on a War on Terror that has lasted these 20 years. 

In those 20 years, militant, authoritarian Christianity has strengthened its grip on the American Christian landscape. Books on “Biblical manhood,” promoting a warrior mentality and authoritarian home governance have sold in the millions. Youth rallies call for a “wartime mentality,” and men’s revival meetings urged men to “Forget the Jesus who avoids confrontation, who ‘turns the other cheek’ – that ‘Bearded Lady’ Jesus was a bore, just like the men who followed him.” At the Art in the Park event this summer, one vendor sold metal signs that read “God, guts, and guns” and a cross formed out of assault rifles. 

In Jesus and John Wayne, Du Mez wonders, “when evangelicals define themselves in terms of Christ’s atonement or as disciples of a risen Christ, what sort of Jesus are they imagining? Is their savior a conquering warrior,? Or is he a sacrificial lamb who offers himself up for the restoration of all things? How one answers these questions will determine what it looks like to follow Jesus.”

The question Jesus asks his disciples on the road to Caesarea Philippi is perhaps the most important question for American Christians today. The answer to this question will determine what it looks like to follow Jesus. 

When Jesus asked this question of his first disciples, they answered with the most powerful images of authority and power they could imagine. John the Baptist, the fringe prophet who wasn’t afraid to tell it like it is, to call religious authorities snakes to their faces, and to die as a martyr for speaking truth to power. Elijah, the greatest prophet of all time, who slaughtered 400 priests of Baal, so cherished by God that he was taken up into heaven instead of experiencing mortal death, who would return in power to liberate God’s people. If Jesus wasn’t one of those warriors for God, clearly he was some kind of prophet, his authority and power was so great and amazing.

Then Jesus singled out Peter, asking him directly: “Who do you say that I am?” And Peter answers, correctly, “You are the Messiah.” 

Messianic expectations in first-century Judaism were high. Numerous men had claimed to be the Messiah, which means “Anointed.” Drawing from Hebrew prophets and rabbinic interpretations, the Messiah was one who would be a great prophet in the lineage of King David and would bring about the final judgement, general resurrection of the dead, and peace on earth. New Testament scholar Amy Jill-Levine notes, “They do not expect a messiah to die, let alone to die on a cross and then to be lifted into the heavens.”

One thing to pay attention to here is how Jesus manages the information around his identity, how people see and understand and interpret him. When Peter declares him to be the Messiah, someone powerful and authoritative and hopeful, he orders them not to tell anyone. The word in Greek here is epitimao, meaning to “rebuke” or “command.” This word comes up two more times in this passage, when Peter rebukes Jesus, and Jesus rebukes Peter. There is this back and forth of who has the authority to define Jesus. Jesus, for his part, openly and boldly proclaims that he will suffer and be rejected and die, and he will rise in three days. This is what he wants people to hear and to know about him. Not that he is “a man’s man who takes no prisoners and wages holy war.” He wants people to see him as a defeated loser who, by the power of God, is resurrected. 

And when Peter rebukes Jesus for trying to promote this image of himself, the scene suddenly slows down, in a way that tells us Peter has said something he’s going to wish he could take back. The scripture says Jesus stopped, and turned, and looked right at his disciples. He tells Peter to go away, get out of his sight, literally “depart behind me.” He calls him Satan, which means the Adversary or enemy of God and God’s people. 

And then he opens up the application process for new disciples, calling the crowd to join him and hear the job description: deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow him. 

And he describes the compensation: salvation. This job will kill you. But it will save you. 

And finally, he says, “if you are ashamed of weakness, self-sacrifice, death, I will be ashamed of you, too.”

I won’t claim to know the mind of Jesus, the thoughts of God. As the Psalmist says, the thoughts of God too weighty and vast for humans to comprehend them. 

But looking at what American Christianity has become today, I might assume that Jesus is ashamed. 

And what is so hard is that I know that the Christianity proclaimed by those who, like Peter, want a manly, warrior Jesus, is not the Christianity I proclaim, or the Christianity you believe in. I have never attended or served a church that would have anything to do with that kind of proclamation. 

But the Sunday after 9/11, and all the Sundays since, that proclamation has grown louder and louder. The cries for war have grown louder and louder – against terrorists, yes, but also against liberalism, feminism, minorities, immigrants, and anyone who might challenge the power and authority of the warrior Jesus that has been constructed in clear opposition to scripture, to Jesus’s own self-proclamation. At yesterday’s memorial ceremony in Shanksville, PA, former president George W. Bush asserted that foreign terrorists and domestic extremists are “children of the same foul spirit.” And while he didn’t explicitly note the religious underpinnings of both groups of extremists, they are impossible to ignore. 

On the Sundays after 9/11, there were people who contended that Islam is a religion of violence, an oppressive faith that subjugates women and promotes brutal authoritarianism. Several formerly Muslim, born-again Christians made huge sums of money writing books and working the evangelical speaking circuit promoting these ideas. Television news hosts wondered where all the “good” Muslims were. Why weren’t they denouncing violent extremism? It must be because they secretly supported these terrorists because it was the true heart of Islam. 

I asked one of my Muslim friends about this once. And she said, “we are shouting into the void. No one is listening.” What news source wants to run a story about a Muslim doing and saying peaceful things? Especially when there are Muslims pointing guns at Americans? 

Once radical, extremist, violent interpretations of Islam took hold, there was no way for other Muslims to make the case that this was not their religion. 

I have ignored what has been happening to American Christianity, writing it off as fringe lunatics who no one takes seriously, or governing my condemnation in the name of Christian unity. I have not wanted to offend anyone’s political persuasions, and I’ve attempted to be sensitive to the complexities of people’s background and beliefs.  But it is clear, after 20 years, that the Jesus who is worshipped by much of Christian America is not the Jesus of our shared scriptures. And it is clear that we cannot ignore those who have rebuked Christians for being too soft and have demanded a militant, masculine, authoritarian faith. New York Times opinion columnist David Brooks wrote this week that “The 21st century is turning into an era of globe-spanning holy wars at a time when the appeal of actual religion seems to be on the wane.” The time has come, after 20 years, to stop ignoring those who are drowning out the voice of Jesus and waging holy war in his name. It is time to say, “Get behind me, Satan.”

I was in New York City on September 11, 2001 and watched the towers collapse out of the office building I worked in. I have been serving in ministry in Christ’s church for 15 of the last 20 years. I preached on the 10^th anniversary of this horrible day that “we want our humanity back.” I invited my congregation to turn from fear and anger and toward compassion. I proclaimed that we worship and serve a God of justice and mercy, love and reconciliation, comfort and peace.  

But that is not the God our neighbors think we worship. Youth who have been brought up in this congregation think Christians are militant, hypocritical, and homophobic. Folks who have listened to my sermons for years think Christians are patriarchal and authoritarian. It isn’t just people outside the church who are being influenced by this unbiblical interpretation of our faith. It is our children who are hearing it. It is our neighbors who are hearing it. It is all of us who are hearing it. 

And unless we are willing to rebuke it, as Jesus did - loudly and repeatedly, and publicly – it will define us, whether we like it or not, whether we agree with it or not. As difficult as it is for some of us to believe, many, many Christians in this country do not know the transforming power of a God who chose vulnerability over aggression, self-sacrifice over self-preservation, and compassion over combat. And that is because we have not proclaimed that Christ boldly and openly, and we have not commanded those who are mis-interpreting Jesus to get out of the way. We have not called them what they are: adversaries of the children of God. 

Our nation’s 20-year war with Islamic extremists in Afghanistan has come to an ignoble end. But our military and our government will have to continue to vigilantly contend with those who have been radicalized in that faith tradition if they hope to defend the freedom and security of citizens of the United States and people around the world. That is the work of our military and our government.

The work of the church is to ensure that the radical elements in our own faith tradition do not continue to mimic the rise of radical Islam. The work of the church is not to glorify militarism and authoritarianism but to proclaim the one who was beaten, rejected, and killed at the hands of his enemies. The work of the church is to follow that one where he leads – to the salvation that only comes through weakness, surrender, loss, and death. 

Proclaiming this Jesus, risen and ascended, is the work of the church. If we do our work, we may not see throngs of people pouring into our pews, as people anticipated the Sunday after 9/11. But we may prevent more violence at the hands of those claiming to be Christian. We may redeem the character of Christianity in this nation. And we might just be saved in the process. 

To God be all glory forever and ever. Amen.