A Budde Right moment

Wow. A long while since one Anglican/Episcopalian bishop lit up the world's media (both mainstream and social), but Bishop Marian Budde, Episcopal Bishop of Washington, did that last week with her direct address to President Trump at the end of her sermon in a customary post-inauguration service in the Washington National Cathedral.

The whole sermon is available here (and obviously the whole is context for the final part, along with events of the day or two beforehand, including a flurry of executive orders signed by President Trump immediately after he was sworn into office).

The words that have become famous (for those supporting +Budde and her plea to the President) and infamous and objectionable for many (whether passionate supporters of Trump, or enthusiastic enemies of progressive Christianity, or simply agin women preaching) are these:

"Unity is relatively easy to pray for on occasions of solemnity. It’s a lot harder to realize when we’re dealing with real differences in the public arena. But without unity, we are building our nation’s house on sand.

With a commitment to unity that incorporates diversity and transcends disagreement, and the solid foundations of dignity, honesty, and humility that such unity requires, we can do our part, in our time, to help realize the ideals and the dream of America."

"Let me make one final plea, Mr President. Millions have put their trust in you. As you told the nation yesterday, you have felt the providential hand of a loving God. In the name of our God, I ask you to have mercy upon the people in our country who are scared now. There are transgender children in Democratic, Republican and independent families who fear for their lives.

And the people who pick our crops and clean our office buildings; who labor in our poultry farms and meat-packing plants; who wash the dishes after we eat in restaurants and work the night shift in hospitals – they may not be citizens or have the proper documentation, but the vast majority of immigrants are not criminals. They pay taxes, and are good neighbors. They are faithful members of our churches, mosques and synagogues, gurdwara, and temples.

Have mercy, Mr President, on those in our communities whose children fear that their parents will be taken away. Help those who are fleeing war zones and persecution in their own lands to find compassion and welcome here. Our God teaches us that we are to be merciful to the stranger, for we were once strangers in this land.

May God grant us all the strength and courage to honor the dignity of every human being, speak the truth in love, and walk humbly with one another and our God, for the good of all the people of this nation and the world."

Like many people making comments, I have been enthusiastically for Bishop Budde. I think she was right to respond to the urgency of the hour - in the light of presidential executive orders about gender (there will henceforth only be two genders in the USA) and illegal immigrants, to (1) observe to the President that people affected by such orders were fearful (2) to ask for the President to be merciful to such people. 

Claims that what she said was (politically) partisan and not honouring the intended bi-partisan nature of the service do not wash with me. Trump crossed a line with his executive orders. As incoming President he exacerbated division and polarization in his nation. +Budde's sermon focused on the unity of the USA. Alarmed by the executive orders, +Budde understood that to be salt of the earth meant avoiding the blandness of saying nothing about people's fears. People are people, not pawns in ideological wars. Their dignity and well-being matter in ways which Trump seems quite oblivious to (at best) - at worst he may be a cruel man (as many think he is). If a Christian leader is not going to speak out when able to, when will it happen? If a disposition to speak up for marginalized communities is "partisan" then disciples of Jesus are and should be partisan! In fact, +Budde struck no particular "party policy" position; she made no claim as to what mercy might mean in respect of Trump's implementation of his policy positions; but she knew that Trump has some understanding of mercy - after all, part of his executive orders was to pardon a whole bunch of people.*

Of course some have taken umbrage at a woman - any woman, whatever title -speaking; President Trump has called her a "so called bishop" but I assume that was not prompted by his understanding of Leo's famous Bull about Anglican orders!; others have looked up her record as a "progressive" theologian and dismissed her plea for mercy not only as partisan but also as the usual drippy wet stuff progressives say; one Republican politician called for her to be deported (she is an American citizen by birth); etc. All this is ad hominem and does not deal with the substance of her appeal which was that this powerful ruler might consider finding the kindest route to achieve what he wants to achieve.

What has both surprised me and disturbed me is that in the midst of such comments Christians, Protestant and Catholic have poured opprobrium upon her - seemingly oblivious to the Christ-like, Christ-disposed substance to her concern: that a powerful ruler might show mercy to the marginalized. Micah 6:8; Matthew 5:3; Matthew 9:13; Luke 6:20; etc anyone? These past few days have demonstrated that global Christianity (not just American Christianity) is horribly rent in at least two parts. For instance, the Russian Orthodox support for Putin in substance seems indistinguishable from many American church leaders support for Trump. Is this the Christianity of Jesus or another phenomenon? (I have even seen comment that Trump is now the anointed supreme church leader for many American Christians ... how can this be so?)

John Sandemann ("Obadiah"), writing from Sydney, Australia, seeing some criticism of +Budde, makes this helpful observation:

"But it struck Obadiah that Bishop Mariann Edgar Budde, who, while in the progressive mainstream of The Episcopal Church, has shown more grace to conservatives than her more extreme colleagues, did NOT hammer home her progressive views. She did not ask people to become progressives. Instead, she simply called for mercy towards immigrants and LGBTQIA persons, especially children. That Obadiah thinks was smart."

For some other good commentary read this or this. 

A correspondent (personal to me) this week makes this important observation about what underlies +Budde's sermon (and many instances in Christian history of people faithful to the kingdom vision of Jesus and to the universal unity of all things which Paul preached):

"... an offer from God of a "Beloved Community." In it, those formerly oppressed  would be freed from assaults on their dignity. Likewise those formerly complicit in oppression would be healed of the moral injury that their abuse of force had brought on them. ... Bishop Budde .... her comment to the new president is at least beside the tradition above. ... She is explaining that the unity of America depends in part on mercy and invites him to stand in that unity with her. The holism of her vision of America as God sees it and her inclusion of herself and her listener in that whole are what lift her remarks above mere partisanship and toward divine prophecy."

That is, in a world of polarization of societies, if not division of the same, and of divisions in humanity, if not brutal wars between humans, Christians of all stripes and persuasions, reading the whole of Scripture, with an understanding of God's purpose for all of history, to bring redemption (NT) to creation (OT), to secure a new creation of grace (NT) from the old creation of law (OT), tend to speak for social harmony, for unity among human beings, for dignity and respect for all and not for some. The Bible is a vision for a "Beloved Community" and not for a beleagured society with winners and losers. This commitment to unity, including a pathway of mercy to secure it, is a charism of the Christian faith. +Budde (whether or not on some things past and present has said things which place her on the spectrum of theology deemed "progressive") in her sermon was thoroughly Christian. Whatever Trump and Vance's personal situation before God, they do not embrace a Christian understanding which accords with this fundamental character of Jesus-shaped Christianity.

Well, that is more than enough from me. You will have your own thoughts. Save for one final note:

Perhaps we could all agree that preaching - a sometimes questioned aspect of worship - remains a very powerful possibility for saying something which speaks to the world and not just to the congregation physically present before the preacher.

The sermon is not yet dead. Long live preaching!

*Clearly immigration, controlling borders and the like is a complex matter for the USA, noting how successive administrations have largely failed to control illegal migration into the States (including Trump's first administration), and also noting how many parts of US society seemingly collude with illegal immigation by gladly employing such immigrants. Ditto, gender-based policies are also complex matters (e.g. how does a society affirm basic human rights of a transgender person while also affirming other rights such as a sportswoman's right to compete in a "fair" sports field). The point of +Budde's sermon was not to challenge the right of Trump and his administration to change policy settings on such complex matters. It was to ask that the implementation of changed policy might be conducted mercifully.

New Year Reflections: Humanity ("We're complicated"), Ceasefire, Improved summer here in Chch

If last week's post, in part at least, was about the complexity of theology because, well, God is complicated (at least, complicated for us to understand who God is, what God is up to, etc), then this week's post begins with the complexity of humanity. 

A section of a comment from Mark to last week's post is worth repeating here:

"One of the big errors, I think, in understanding human beings is to assume that there is a generic, singular "type" - that we are fundamentally rational, or fundamentally relational, or fundamentally emotion-based etc. While all of these are true, it is also obvious that beyond what we have common there is also a great diversity of ways of being. Religions who stress our unity and equality (especially strong with the monotheistic religions) often have the challenge of accounting for our great diversity too (polytheistic religions are perhaps better at allowing and even celebrating this, as they allow and celebrate it in their doctrine of God).

Too much diversity and we lose a sense of our (and God's) unity and wholeness; too much too much unity and we lose a an appreciation of the myriad forms in which human and divine being appears.

There are many models for understanding human diversity-in-unity. By this stage in my life I've tried many of them out on myself and clients! The one that keeps proving it's worth for me, as a basic foundation, is the Myers-Briggs typology based on the pioneering insights of Carl Jung. ..."

We are a diverse bunch - I have seen that in various interactions through this holiday season. But each of us as individuals, wherever we might be located on some scheme of human diversity, is a complex being. We are rational and emotional, we have a history, a present and a future (each of which might be charted on a spectrum from painful to pleasant), we are (with a nod to last week's post) full of desire and may or may not be planning appropriate means of fulfilling those desires (or ignoring them due to other priorities such as meeting the desires of others), and we have capacity both to bore others and to surprise them.

There are perhaps two chief means by which we regularly reflect on the complexity of humanity: 

- gossip (focused on the quirks and quarrels of friends, family, acquaintances, workmates, neighbours, etc) and 

- news (focused on the triumphs and tribulations of people we mostly do not know directly but feel we know because their lives are lived in our heads (politicians, film stars, sports stars, other celebrities). 

Recent weeks of news have of course been dominated by the politician/TV star/golf star (at least on his own golf courses!)/celebrity Donald Trump and his entourage of prospective leaders of his about to be inaugurated empire - their appearances before hearings to determine their fitness for office have been, well, interesting. From the perspective of the complexity of being human, it is intriguing how well known sinners prior to nomination for office take on a certain saintliness in their own minds and in the minds of their supporters. Much as we might deride this phenomenon when viewed on YouTube/X/etc, do we not all do a bit of this "transformative view" of ourselves from time to time (or, indeed, all the time)?

Another aspect of the complexity of humanity is that few if any people are unable to do at least one good thing in their lives. And, speaking of Trump, my reading of this week's news about the Gaza-Israel ceasefire is that while credit goes to Biden and Blinken for laying the groundwork for the current deal - some months back, but not at that time actually achieving a deal - it has been the involvement of Trump which has enabled a deal to be clinched. 

Even as the ceasefire unfolds (and as I write this, the news is of three Israeli hostages being released from Gaza), it seems that one might reasonably assess that the ceasefire is merely a cessation of hostilities and not an actual breaking out of peace. 

Humanity is complicated; each of us are complex beings; whether we invest hopes in a new president or prime minister or monarch, or seek for genuine peace and justice in human communities (our own families? the neighbourhood? Sudan? Ukraine? Gaza/West Bank/Israel?), we are nearly always guilty of underestimating that complex people create complex situations for which simple solutions are mostly unachievable. (As an aside, isn't a strong part of the attractiveness of Trump for American voters and global supporters that he offers simple solutions for every problem. And, as a further aside, isn't there an illustration of the complexity of humanity in how four years of his presidency, 2016-2020, has seemingly created no voters' remorse!).

So, where is the God of Jesus Christ present in our world through the Holy Spirit in our complexity?

Certainly there is some complicatedness about answering that question. This morning, looking at X/Twitter - there is a bunch of Christians in Washington this week with a very simple answer to the question (summarising, Donald Trump is God's anointed saviour of America and the world) and there is a vast number of Christians elsewhere in America and the world deeply anxious for a Trumpian future and even more deeply disturbed at the state of (some) American theology! Whatever God is up to in the world at this time, Trump is an ordinary human sinner not an extraordinary vessel of God's grace.

My own answer to the question is this: 

1. God is doing all kinds of things in the world all the time using all kinds of people. It is not promised to us that any one of us or any one order of the church (not even prophets!) will have discernment as to what is happening. It is possible that with the hindsight of historical reflection we will have some discernment. It is also possible that there will be moments of insight granted to us "this IS God at work in the world" - especially when we see that wonderful sign of the kingdom when people commit their lives to Christ the King of Kings!

2. We can answer the question by being people open to God working in us and through us: being faithful witnesses to Jesus Christ and the Gospel, loving neighbours, makers of peace, workers of justice and living holy lives.

If you are wondering where the weather issue from the subject line comes into this post, let me conclude by saying that, like humanity, weather is complicated. The dismal weather of last week's post has given way to pleasant, stock standard Christchurch summer weather. Praise the Lord!

But it may be about to change ... :)

New Year Reflections: 2025 off to a rocky, tragic and (here in Chch) miserable start

Let's get the least difficult matter out of the way - cold, miserable January weather in Christchurch (and other parts of NZ) - not the summer we wanted but the farmers get needed rain ... and, segueing to much, much more difficult matters, we are not in a tragic situation such as Los Angeles is experiencing through these days ... nor are we at war. I am not aware that any conflicts on 31 December 2024 have ceased with the turn of the new year. 

Then, thinking of a rocky start to the year, there is Trump wanting more American territory, seemingly oblivious to the ethical logic of his rhetoric: that Putin may as well seek Ukraine as Trump Greenland ... or Canada.

But I do like the joke on the internet: that Australia has announced that it has offered New Zealand to Trump as territory he might like to acquire :). It would be one way to get the longed for free trade agreement with the USA!

New Year reflections: by this I don't mean reflections on world events (though they form context for thinking about the perenniel question, What is the Good News in our day?). I do mean: thinking about the Good News, with Anglican hues, with reference to some reading I have managed to do during the holiday season.

So a bit of reading Barth's Church Dogmatics led to some enquiry into De Lubac's mid 20th century controversy with Dominican Thomists over nature/supernature (a controversy I do not fully understand, in part because it includes "This is what Aquinas meant" v "No, that is not what he meant" ping-pong!) which moved into some internet enquiries yielding some interesting articles/chapters, including the nugget of information that Garrigou-Lagrange (erstwhile chief Thomistic antagonist of De Lubac's) was a supporter of Vichy France (because it represented opposition to "modernism"). Naturally this got me thinking along the following lines ... (in no particular order of merit):

- What is it about conservative theology, whether in the early to mid 20th century in Europe or in the early 21st century in America/Europe, which leads to associated support for fascist or fascist-tending politicians?

- In different words, why are some theologians careful to question "modernism" in any given human era but seemingly careless about whom they unquestioningly welcome as allies against "modernism"?

- Can we ever be fully rational about how God works in the world? The nature/supernature controversy is (in my understanding) an issue about how God as God makes connection with creation (whether nature is "the whole of creation" or focused on nature as "humanity"), the supernatural with the natural, with the conjoined issue of whether natural desire for God exists "naturally" and if so, is God obligated to fulfil it (which impinges on God's sovereign freedom)?, or, desire for God is implanted by God through the creation of us ... briefly, there is a mystery about God's work in the world and, just may be, it cannot be explained by a combo of Aristotle's and Aquinas' propositions? Or, can it be? My own lean is towards De Lubac's suspicion of a wholly rational explanation for God's work in the world.

- Why, across a number of bits and bobs of writings about these matters was it hard if not impossible to find a fairly straightforward christological approach to the nature/supernature dilemms? That is, a Christian approach to bridging any assumed gap between nature and supernature should invoke the Incarnation (the Word became flesh) as the specific, concrete instance in which the gap is bridged and, further, recalling Pauline "in Christ" theology, is not our desire for God fulfilled by our being "in Christ" - within the very life of the One in whom all things in heaven and on earth are fulfilled?

- Conversely, just as anti-modernist politicians can be engaged in order to support a specific theological agenda, so can the Christian faith be invoked to support a certain line of political or socio-political thought (the current instance being the acknowledgement by various global pundits that Christianity has profound influence on our aspiration for "the good life" in the here and now). But, much as we Christians, feeling beleagured in secularised modern life, may relish such endorsement, is there not an ever constant need to focus on truth rather than utility? Does God exist? Is this existent God the God revealed in and through Jesus Christ? What does this God say to us and expect of us?

- De Lubac has a fascinating passage (as cited in something I read) which in his context was about (in my language) Catholic propositional theologians but which I reckon could apply to evangelical propositional theologians:

De Lubac "Disappearance of the Sense of the Sacred." pp. 233-4, (in Theology in History, trans. Anne Englund Nash (San Francisco: Ignatius, 1996), cited in Randall S. Rosenberg, The Givenness of Desire: Concrete Subjectivity and the Natural Desire to See God (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2017), p. 28.

- Reflecting on such a critique of a "We've got it all sewn up theology", De Lubac was mindful, as other theologians have been, as I hope I am, that the God we adore and attempt to serve, the God in whom we believe ultimate blessing is to be found, is the God of Jesus Christ - the God who in great complexity, diversity and not always rationally reconcilable disclosures is revealed through the Old Testament, the four Gospels, the Pauline and other epistles - but whom may be understood simply (if profoundly and unable to be exhausted mystery) as Love.

- In 2025, whatever rockiness, tragedy and miserable-summerness befalls us, the Good News of Jesus Christ is that God is Love, we are loved by Love itself and the best life - the Augustinian rest for our restlessness, the Thomistic beatitude we seek - is yet to be but always present in Jesus Christ, risen from the dead.