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

No More Christians - The Rev. Philip DeVaul

I grew up a Christian who believed the best thing I could possibly do as a Christian was make other people Christians. I was taught and believed that people who weren’t Christian would go to Hell when they died and spend eternity in conscious torment for believing the wrong thing while on earth. If I could just make someone Christian, then I would be saving them from an endless loop of torturous agony. What’s more, these previously damned souls would now get to experience the nameless eternal joys of Heaven all because of me! What could be a higher aspiration? 
Many Christians believe saving others from going to Hell is the purpose of life. And I think this is where it helps to have a real understanding of what Jesus asks of his followers. Jesus’ instructions to those who would act in his name is to serve others, to love others, to forgive the debts of others. Jesus is less interested in his followers trying to convince people something about God then he is in them embodying the loving presence of God. In other words, your job is not to save people, it’s to love them.  
There is a world of difference between saving others and serving others.

Go and Do Likewise - The Rev. Philip DeVaul

I am often looking for ways to appear good to others, to justify my own goodness to myself, to you, to God. Jesus rejects this outright. “Don’t even call me good,” he says, though if ever one was meant to be called that, it would be him. Throughout Jesus’ ministry, he seems far less interested in people being good than he is in them being merciful, loving, forgiving, working for peace, justice, and equity, and above all, ready to spot the presence of God in the person right in front of them. Awareness, readiness, and willingness to do the work are infinitely more interesting to Jesus than abstractions like goodness. 
When asked what matters most in this world to God, Jesus says loving God and loving your neighbor – and he makes it clear that these things are connected, and that they are on the same level. It is phrased as a commandment, yes, but more than that, this kind of love is a defining feature of anyone who says they follow Jesus. If I call myself a Christian and I do not love my neighbor, I am fundamentally missing the point. Conversely, if I do not call myself Christian, but I love my neighbor, I understand Jesus much better than the unloving Christian. And please remember that this love Jesus describes is not about sentiments and feelings – it’s about action. It’s about the practical work of caring for others.  
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Who is My Neighbor - The Rev. Philip DeVaul

It is impossible not to think of the brown-skinned people, many of whom are of Mexican origin, who are being racially profiled, snatched off the streets and detained without due process all across our country so that we might be made great. It is also impossible to forget that this disaster occurred just a month after our own government announced plans to defund FEMA – our country’s federal emergency response program. While our own country seems to be unclear about who our neighbor is, firefighters from northern Mexico had no such confusion. 
In Butler County Jail here in Ohio, sits a man named Ayman Soliman. He is an Egyptian refugee who has been in our country for over a decade. He fled Egypt under threat of death, and after surviving incarceration and torture because he spoke and acted in support of democracy during what has become known as the Arab Spring. He is a Muslim, and since living in the Cincinnati area, he has served as an imam in the local Muslim community, as well as a chaplain at Children’s Hospital, pastoring to people across religious and cultural affiliations. He has been charged with no crimes. He has devoted his life to the care of others. No reason has been given for the revocation of his asylum status. He has been imprisoned for nearly a month.

Holy Pride - A Conversation with The Rev. Philip DeVaul on The Priesthood of All Queer Believers

In this crossover episode, join hosts Tym House and Anny Stevens Gleason from our new podcast, The Priesthood of All Queer Believers as they welcome their first guest, The Reverend Philip Hart DeVaul. They discuss the intersection of queer identity and faith, addressing common misconceptions about 'pride as sin' and the hypocrisy within certain Christian traditions. Reverend DeVaul shares his personal story of his father's coming out and its impact on his faith. The conversation also covers the transformative power of embracing queer identity within religious spaces, the normalization of queer presence, and the importance of inclusive and affirming practices. This episode emphasizes the potential for growth and deeper understanding within the church through the inclusion and celebration of queer believers. 

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.