November 18, 2001
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See also: [2007] [2004] |
Alternate Readings:
Malachi 4:1-2a
Psalm 98
Commentary by John B. Cobb, Jr.
Psalm 98 expresses a quite different mood – one of joyful triumph. It seems at first that the triumph is God’s and that we can celebrate quite unequivocally with the Psalmist. Surely as Christians we hope for God’s victory in the world! But as the Psalm continues, it becomes clear that God’s victory is identified with the victory of Israel.
Again, this is a natural and healthy feeling. At the end of World War II we could feel that God had won in and through the victory of the Allies. Surely God’s purposes in the world had a better chance of being fulfilled through the Allied victory! Surely Israel’s victories in ancient time, insofar as they made possible her continuing spiritual development and contribution to the whole human race, were important for the realization of God’s purposes.
It is not wrong for Christians to make judgments about which side is more righteous, or at least, less likely to be destructive, in cases of conflict. Though we favor reconciliation, we also take sides. We believe that we are called by God to do this. And if the side we judge we should support wins, we celebrate that as God’s victory as well. We can enter into the spirit of this Psalm with less hesitation than some others.
Our ability to identify with it is strengthened by its ending. Many of the passages suggested for this Sunday have a strong emphasis on divine judgment. In some the judgment appears chiefly in the form of destruction. It seems, typically, that only a righteous remnant will survive and that we can congratulate ourselves on being part of that. The passage from Malachi that is included in our readings has this character. In this Psalm, on the other hand, the emphasis is not destruction of the evil but the righteousness and equity of the judgment.
The apocalyptic note in many of the passages assigned for this Thanksgiving Sunday may provide an occasion for some preachers to relate the recent attack on the United States to their picture of the last things. For process thinkers this is a biblical note that we cannot affirm straightforwardly. It may compel us, at times, to preach against the text.
Consider the Malachi text, taken from the last chapter in the Christian Old Testament. "See, the day is coming, burning like an oven, when all the arrogant and all evildoers will be stubble; the day that comes shall burn them up, says the Lord of Hosts, so that it will leave them neither root nor branch. But for you who revere my name, the sun of righteousness shall rise, with healing in its wings."
Like so many apocalyptic passages, this divides the world into two groups, the evil and the good. The impression is that most human beings belong to the former group but that the group with which the speaker identifies belongs to the second. There is little room for any ambiguity, any virtue among the evil or any sin among the good. Furthermore, the total destruction of the evil people is cause of unqualified celebration.
The contrast here with the book of Jonah is striking. Jonah is angry because his preaching was the occasion of repentance on the part of the people of Nineveh, whereas he had hoped for their total destruction. God, on the other hand, does not want to destroy innocent children and indeed wants to forgive the guilty adults as well. Perhaps Jonah was written as a critical response to the apocalyptic mindset.
The Psalmist may have had this kind of dualism in mind, but fortunately it is not articulated. We are told only that judgment will be just. This is not portrayed as an occasion for terror. On the contrary, all nature joins the human family in celebrating this final outcome.
Attractive as this prospect is, and much as we admire the poetry in which the vision is expressed, process theologians cannot affirm it in any straightforward sense. History kept going then, and it continues now. The idea that this final judgment has simply been postponed a few thousand years is not, for us, an honest response to these passages. There is judgment in history, but it does not end history. Also, as the book of Job warns us, we cannot read God’s judgment off of the actual fate of nations and peoples. Their success and prosperity does not entail their virtue, and their destitution and failure does not entail their particular sinfulness. Often it is the sins of the rich and powerful that cause the suffering of the poor and weak.
But though there is not a simple expression of judgment in history, the idea is not irrelevant. Corruption and moral decadence do weaken civilizations and leave them open to decline and destruction. Morality, discipline, and hard work often do pay off in the course of history.
In the case of our nation, our real virtues still play a role in the global leadership we are able to exercise. We are a democratic people and we are working to become a truly pluralistic people. We have less of a record of seeking military conquest of others than do most great powers. After World War II we did much to rebuild Europe and Japan without the distortions of short-term and narrow self-interest. We protected nations threatened by totalitarian Communism so that they could develop social democracy. We have done much to spread the ideals of democracy and the rule of law and human rights around the world. Many still see us as a beacon of light and are willing to follow our lead.
The problem is that we have for some time been spending our moral capital for the sake of economic capital. Our national policies are subservient to the goals of transnational capital. We use our traditional ideals as a cover for actions that often undercut those who genuinely share those ideals in order to advance economic interests. Step by step we lose credibility, and in the long run, that means also security and power. We try to compensate with military and economic power, but our emphasis on these often exacerbates the deeper problem.
These simplistic and exaggerated statements about both our virtues and our vices are intended only to show how judgment does work in human history. Perhaps a more impressive case could be made in terms of the exploitation of the natural world and the consequences this works on the human beings who engage in these practices. Here, too, those who suffer most are often not those who are responsible, but in broader terms one can see a certain justice at work.
If we cannot give thanks that God’s justice will soon vindicate us and give us the victory, for what shall we give thanks this Thanksgiving. We will not thank God for the horrors of Sept. 11, but we can thank God for the way they have drawn us closer together and overcome our extreme individualism. Perhaps it will help us to appreciate the important role of government in dealing with our collective problems, putting an end to the disparagement of government in favor of business that has so weakened our public life. Perhaps it will create a solidarity among Americans that will lead to reducing the growing gap between rich and poor. Perhaps the new love of country will strengthen the desire to leave its natural beauty and health intact for future generations. Perhaps the aftermath of Sept. 11 will bring Muslims more fully into our national life and create bonds between them and Jews and Christians. Perhaps it will end the tendency in foreign policy to go it alone, ignoring the international community, and simply forcing our will on others. Perhaps it will increase our appreciation for the United Nations and the World Court and other expressions of international conscience. Perhaps we will become more willing to place the general human good and future generations above the quest for immediate wealth of the few.
Perhaps none of these changes will occur. But we can thank God for the opportunity and pray for strength and wisdom to use this occasion for positive growth.
If
we do so, this Thanksgiving time can be an occasion of deepening faith and
commitment and taking responsibility on our part.
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