When Love Shows Up: Weekly Reflections about God’s Presence

God, Bless America - The Rev. Philip DeVaul

The idea that my Christianity would be at odds with my patriotism makes me wildly uncomfortable. I hate it, really. For as long as I can remember I’ve been a Christian, and for as long as I can remember I’ve been American. I remember watching a US aircraft carrier docking in San Diego. I was in 6th grade, and that ship was carrying a family friend who had been deployed in the Persian Gulf. As the ship pulled in, its deck lined with uniformed sailors, the loudspeakers blared “I’m Proud to be an American” and I felt it in my 11-year-old bones. And God bless America, I thought. This country that has formed me has been in my prayers since I could pray.  
I love Jesus and I love America, and I am not interested in changing either of those things any time soon. I have to admit, though, that I have been conditioned to believe that my love of country and my obedience to Jesus are synonymous – or at least that they are cozy bedfellows, resting comfortably with each other side by side, never at odds with one another. And this is profoundly problematic.  
America is not Christian, and it never was. Even if the majority of people who created this country identified as Christian, it was not a Christian country at its founding. And it wasn’t founded with Judeo-Christian values, because there is no such thing as Judeo-Christianity. That phrase is a modern invention with no teeth and less meaning. And as a lifelong (and professional) Christian, I am fine with America not being Christian. I just want us to be honest about it.  

God's Pronouns - Part 2 - The Rev. Philip DeVaul

Last week, I wrote about God’s pronouns. In particular, I sought to make the point that a diligent reading of our Scriptures would inform a more expansive understanding of God’s identity. This is nothing new: It’s not all that groundbreaking to suggest that how we read the Bible will inform the way we experience God in every day life.  
Sometimes I forget that the influence is supposed to work both ways: That the way I experience God in my every day life should inform how I read the Bible. But this happens and is, I believe, a healthy way to interact with Christian Scriptures. We want to disabuse ourselves of the notion that our relationship with the Bible – and by extension, with God – is a one-way street: The Bible simply speaking and us simply receiving. A thoughtful, authentic, and heartfelt relationship with God in our daily life will change the way we read and understand the texts we have. It is a give and take, not a one-way street.  
Last week I made an argument for a more expansive use of pronouns and gender identities when speaking of God. And as I said/wrote then, I believe there is ample reason to do so based on what we see throughout our Bible.

God's Pronouns - Part 1 - The Rev. Philip DeVaul

For much of the history of our church most Christians have referred to God as he. There is nothing inherently wrong with referring to God as he. “He” appears to be the most preferred pronoun for the various authors of the writings that comprise the Bible. But if we are honest, there is something inherently wrong with referring to God exclusively as he. When we can see very clearly that our own Scriptures describe God as he, she, and they, but we insist only on using the masculine expression of God, we are refusing to acknowledge authentic truths about God’s own identity – God’s own being.  
What do you think that does for us? To be so stubborn and exclusive in the way we ascribe gender God when speaking of her? How can we pretend it does not reinforce the basic idea – even subliminally – that God is male? That’s what “he” means in our collective conscience. 
 When we see portrayals of God as a big, bearded man on a cloud we think nothing of it. When we see God portrayed as a woman, we consider it first and foremost as a political statement. And if God were portrayed as non-binary or transgender? How might you respond to that? Would your first thought be joy that God is being represented in one of the ways that is biblically accurate? Or would you be offended by the audacity of it? Challenged by it? Irritable and discomfited? 
Well, and what’s so bad about being offended or discomfited when thinking about God? God offends people all the time – especially those who seek to be the most faithful. God challenges and upsets our precepts and prejudices – every single one of us. If our worship and devotion to God is meant only for our own comfort and solace, we sorely misunderstand and even dishonor the God we purport to exalt.  

God is Not Deceived - The Rev. Philip DeVaul

Each of us knows in our own marrow the answer to Cain’s disingenuous question. Am I my brother’s keeper? Yes. Yes, you are. Yes, I am. The murder of Abel is horrific. But the question with which Cain seeks to cloak his guilt is itself an act of violence. Am I my brother’s keeper is ugly and violent because it trumpets a callous indifference to the way the God of love has ordered the world. God built humans for relationship and connection. Cain and Abel are certainly each their own person – and also, they belong to each other in a unique and powerful way that has sadly escaped Cain’s understanding. 
Cain may be lying when he says he does not know Abel’s whereabouts – but perhaps the question, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” is asked in utter sincerity. It is exactly that kind of missing the point that would lead a person to disregard their own sibling’s humanity. Cain’s own fear and self-preservation blinds him to the truth that yes, he is Abel’s keeper, as Abel is his keeper. Cain himself is deceived. But God is not, and neither are we.  
Which is why it is so shocking to see the sheer violence and inhumanity we are willing to accept in our own time and place. It is not just that the racially targeted rounding up, incarcerating, and deporting of people in America is unjust and criminal – though it is unquestionably both of these things: It’s that it is intentional in its cruelty and dehumanization. ICE seeking to pull children out of schools to arrest them, to scoop families up at graduation ceremonies, deporting US citizens, and legal American residents without anything resembling due process or respect for human dignity, the grotesque photo ops in front of incarcerated men – these are terrorist acts. They are quite literally designed to cast fear in the hearts of every Latino living in America.  

God Help Me - The Rev. Philip DeVaul

I pray a lot more now, as you might expect from a professional Christian. Of course, I lead prayers in worship on Sundays. As a parent, I pray with my children before meals and bedtime.
When I am invited to a hospital to see a newborn child, I pray for little babies as I hold them. Here is the prayer I pray: “Watch over your child, O Lord, as her days increase; bless and guide her wherever she may be; Strengthen her when she stands; comfort her when discouraged or sorrowful; raise her up when she falls; and in her heart, may your peace which passes understanding abide all the days of her life, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.” I didn’t make that one up: it’s in the Episcopal prayer book. What do I believe about a new life and what my hopes are for them? I have decided to let this prayer shape my belief.
When I show up at the end of someone’s life, I pray for them. Sometimes they are somewhat aware of that. Most of the time they are not.  Here, from the same prayer book, is what I pray: “Deliver your servant, O Sovereign Lord Christ, from all evil, and set him free from every bond; that he may rest with all your saints in the eternal habitations; where with the Father and the Holy Spirit you live and reign, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.” I do not always know what I believe about death. These words I pray are not simply a comfort: They are a challenge. They push me to accept the things I cannot change, and to find God even in death.
Jesus says to pray for those who hate you. What a command.

The Hope is the Point - The Rev. Philip DeVaul

Crucifixion, too, was common in the Roman Empire. More public, more long-lasting, more inefficient, more painful even than stoning. The victims of this form of violence were stripped down naked and forced to carry the heavy horizontal piece of their cross to the site of their death. And again, none of this inhumane brutality was accidental. It was a tactic of terror. The cruelty was the point.
Peter knew the score. Jesus had told him many times before that walking the way of love in a cruel world would have its cost. And Peter had seen what it did to his friend. Peter was undaunted. Once you know the power of love, the magnificence of grace, the friendship of God, I mean what else is there? They bound him and took him to that place he did not want to go, but Rocky was Rocky – stubborn even in his humility, immovable once he knew what he knew. He said, “I’m no Jesus. If you’re gonna kill me, hang me upside down.” Peter had worked the last several decades in hopes that he could simply live into the faithfulness for which he was born. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be worthy of it, worthy of the love that had transformed his whole life. So he used the last bit of rockiness he had to try in his own way to show he was not kidding around about the work of love. The hope was the point.

The Diverse, Equitable, Inclusive Body of Christ - The Rev. Philip DeVaul

We may posture our objections to diversity, equity and inclusion as objections only to specific policies, we may say we are speaking on behalf of meritocracy. We may be sincere when we say these things. For most of my life I was a person who, in the name of meritocracy, spoke out against diversity, equity, and inclusion initiatives. I wonder if it is coincidental that I tended to see all my own accomplishments as merited, while comfortably questioning the achievements of others – especially those that do not look, talk, or think like me.
There’s a lot to be said for the idea of merit. The problem has been, and continues to be, who decides who deserves something? Who sets the parameters for merit in our communities, in our country? The people who are already in power do and always have. Arguments for merit might have more teeth if we were operating on a level playing field. We are not. We never have been. This is not new, and it is not a problem unique to our time or place. Once, when Jesus was teaching in a way that asserted his own merit and authority, some around him muttered, “Isn’t he just the carpenter’s son?” Another person, when hearing of his rising prominence, asked rhetorically, “Has anything good ever come out of Nazareth?”
The implications are clear: We define merit based on the status quo and the existing structures of our culture – whether they are healthy or not. And Jesus seeks to subvert our status quo, to dismantle the existing structures that silence, marginalize, and harm large portions of our populace – even when those structures have been built in his name.

We Have Come to Believe - The Rev. Philip DeVaul

The Bible does not say that slavery is wrong. Slavery – the act of owning another human being – was a common occurrence in the cultures that are portrayed in the Bible. There are multiple descriptions as to how slaves should be treated, but there are no places in which slavery is condemned, neither outright nor implicitly.
Over time though, through interaction with Scriptures, in prayer, and in discussion with one another, Christians came to believe that slavery was in fact evil. I believe it is important to note that Christians did not come to this conclusion by finding some hidden biblical text that said, “Slavery is bad.” Christians came to this conclusion – far too slowly actually – by taking Jesus seriously in his description of how we are meant to treat one another, and by looking at the whole of his ministry. His was a ministry of humanization. Engaging in acts of dehumanization did not and does not reflect the heart of Christ.

When It's Legal - The Rev. Philip DeVaul

There are multiple places in which people might have stood up in Jesus’ defense. He did, after all, have friends, disciples, and followers. It is clear in the narrative they are scared, overwhelmed, and feel powerless. What would any one of their voices even do? What would happen to them if they spoke up? Retaliation is real.
Maybe some people watched cautiously, assuming that the processes put in place would be enough to curb injustice and save Jesus’ life. After all, the Roman Empire was imperfect, but it had laws. And their own Judean authorities could not all be on the same page, right? Some would have the courage to stand up and demand fairness and integrity. The peace brokered between Rome and Israel included checks and balances, didn’t they? Why speak up when they could just let the system work.
Still, some would stay silent out of something between apathy and complicity. The status quo may not be great, but at least they knew how to navigate it. At least they had found a way to function within it. Sometimes there will be some injustice. Sometimes innocence is ignored or misunderstood. And anyway, is anyone really innocent? If Jesus hadn’t done anything wrong at all, what did he have to be scared of? The Roman governor Pilate made a show of washing his hands. Sure he did. We all know sometimes you’re going to get your hands dirty. Sometimes that’s the cost of greatness.

Roommates - The Rev. Philip DeVaul

I was very nervous to share with Cory that I had become religious again. And he certainly was skeptical about it and had no problem sharing that with me. When eventually I decided to become a priest in the Episcopal Church, Cory said, “I have mixed feelings. I think you’ll be very good at it, but you’ll be leading people into a lie.” That was maybe the meanest thing he ever said to me. And when you think about it, it wasn’t actually all that mean. Tactless and insensitive, maybe. But heartfelt and honest and completely in keeping with years of our interactions. In fact, it was much less cruel than many things I had said to him in our time. I wasn’t even phased. “I know, man,” I said, “I know you think that. Thanks for saying I will be good at it.”
Cory once said that if he was right about there being nothing after you die, he would be very annoyed, because he’d like just a moment after death to know he was right. I love the audacity of that so much.
He asked to come to church with me a few times. He expressed desire to see me, as he said, “do my thing” once I had become a priest. He loved me, and was proud of me, and did not act like his feelings were mixed. And he continued trying to understand his own spirituality on his own terms. He explored and wondered and tried and thought and wrestled. I don’t know where he was with all this when he died, but I have no doubt he never stopped being curious and hopeful.