Once Upon a Sand Creek

Nov 29, 1864 probably doesn’t mean much to most of us.  But it should.

The name John Chivington probably doesn’t mean much to most of us.  But it should.  Especially to the Church.

On Nov 29, 1864, in modern Kiowa County, Colorado, approximately 150 Cheyenne, mainly women and children were slaughtered near their homes by the United States Calvary led by Col. John Chivington.  Chivington had claimed there were upwards of 500 Warriors in the village, but no evidence collaborated this.  Instead, 700 men ran down a village that was little equipped to defend itself.  After the ‘battle’, Chivington’s men returned to the scene to collect trophies of scalps and other body parts, including genitals.

Col John Chivington was known as a cold and brutal man, who employed violence to achieve his ends.  He was known for an accidental attack on a Confederate Supply Train during the Civil War, whereupon he threatened to kill his prisoners. 

But what makes Chivington noteworthy, and infamous, is that he was a Methodist Preacher.  He was a Christian.

Chivington had been appointed as a preacher by the Methodist General Convention and sent to Colorado. He was known as a ‘hell and brimstone’ preacher, one who preached the anger and wrath of God.  He preached against the existence of the Native Americans and urged his congregation members to exterminate them.  When the Civil War broke out, he applied for a commission.  When offered a commission as a Chaplain, he refused, insisting that he was going to be a warrior.  He served and was never punished for the events at Sand Creek.

Today, Chivington should remind us in the Christian Church about the dangers of extremism, of fundamentalism and of hatred wherever it shall be found.  This should be a reminder that we are not called to hate, not called to violence, but to love and to peace.  The Church needed to have helped the Cheyenne and all Natives.  A little less than a hundred years later, Dietrich Bonhoeffer would remind us that the Church has a duty, “not to simply bandage the wounds of victims of the wheels of injustice, [but] we are to drive a spoke into the wheel itself.”

Sand Creek should remind us of our failures of the church in the past to even bandage the wounds.  The Cheyenne, the Sioux, the Navajo, indeed all Natives and all slaves, needed us. 

We should mourn the 29^th of November as a day when a man of peace became a man of violence.  And we should renew our commitment to serve others, to love others and to be that instrument of justice and peace that God has called us to be. 

The Hope We Sing

Isaiah 64:1-9

                Healing begins in pain.  Joy begins in sorrow.  Hope begins in Lament.

                It is Advent and soon we will be enjoying Christmas parties, Christmas carols, the lights, sounds, and smells of the ‘happiest time of the year.’ There will be mistletoe strung up for young (and not so young) lovers to kiss under.  There will be fires and egg nog and Christmas trees and sappy movies on TV.  People of all races, denominations, economic status and orientation will join their voices in singing Silent Night.

                But not today.  All of that will happen later.  Not today.

                Today as I sit the only singing I hear is the protesters in Ferguson, MO demanding to be heard.  The only fires I see are those burning up buildings in a once proud St Louis Suburb and the only decorations I see are the garish displays in department stores eagerly anticipating people to come and worship at their altars. What should be a beautiful and hopeful time of the year has turned into a parody of itself.

                And maybe that is why this reading from Isaiah is so appropriate for today.  Wheras the Old Testament readings for Advent are normally prophetic songs of coming happiness and joy, today’s text is a painful exploration of God’s absence and a lament over what has happened to the people of God.

                Isaiah lives in a time of deep turmoil where nothing is certain except disappointment, despair and destruction.  His nation has been attacked at every side and what was once a great and mighty kingdom is now destroyed and burned to the ground.  The Assyrians have come and attacked the people of Israel.  They have taken most of the kingdom off to captivity or dispersed it to the seven winds.  All that was left was the tiny city of Jerusalem, and even that is surrounded and almost brought to the place of destruction. 

                Jerusalem! The Holy City! Was burning and was under the threat of being completely and utterly destroyed.  How could such a thing happen? After all, Jerusalem was the Holy City! It was the city that YHWH lived in and from where he protected his people.  Had YHWH been defeated? Had YHWH abandoned his people?

                And that is the question that dominates this reading: where is God? Where is YHWH? Where is the Divine Presence that would come and take care of the people?

                Just before this passage, Isaiah sets the mood for it by stating: “We have long been like those who you do not rule, like those not called by your name” (Is 63:19).  We are not your people…you have forgotten us, left us, departed from us.  We are not special…even in your sight.

                And then there comes the great cry from Isaiah that opens this chapter: “O that you would tear open the heavens and come down, so that the mountains would quake at your presence!” (Is 64:1).  What a great image! Oh God! Just tear it off and come down! Make yourself known! Be with us! Help us! Set things right!

                Isaiah looks back at history and knows that God has helped his people in the past by wonderful and mighty deeds.  So where is God? Where is He now? Why won’t he help? Why does he not care at the situation we now find ourselves in? This entire passage speaks of Isaiah’s pain…it is pain seeking understanding! WHERE IS GOD?

                Don’t we wonder the same thing too? WHERE IS GOD?

                We see a city burned to the ground – WHERE IS GOD?

                We watch as a twelve year old boy is shot by police – WHERE IS GOD?

                We watch as our loved one suffers with debilitating cancer – WHERE IS GOD?

                We watch as terrorists behead innocent people and kill thousands more – WHERE IS GOD?

                We struggle to make ends meet, give our children clothes and food, and we get further behind every day – WHERE IS GOD?               

                Does He not care? We know that he performed miracles all throughout the Biblical times.  He walked on water, gave sight back to the blind and raised the dead.  WHERE IS HE NOW AND WHY DOESN’T HE DO THESE THINGS ANYMORE?

                Now most of us wouldn’t think to ask these questions in church…because it may sound irreverent.  Others say that He does do these thing today and provide scanty and anecdotal evidence that cannot be verified.  But even if He does, he doesn’t do it on the grand scale that He did in the Bible.  He doesn’t part the Red Sea or raise the dead or provide food for the millions of people starving around the world.  

                We are not the only ones who think about this either.  Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a German theologian who was imprisoned by the Nazis.  As he thought about this very problem, he came to a very different answer:

               God would have us know that we must live as men who manage our lives without him.  The God who is with us is the God who forsakes us (Mark 15:34).  The God who lets us live in the world without the working hypothesis of God is the God before whom we stand continually.  Before God and with God we live without God.  God lets himself be pushed out of the world on to the cross.  He is weak and powerless in the world, and that is precisely the way, the only way, in which he is with us and helps us.”

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                In essence, God allows himself to be moved out to the corners of existence because that is where he can help us the most.

                But this may not help when we see Ferguson burn or hungry people struggling to find food or single moms struggling to find answers, but maybe it provides a reason. 

                This divine absence has its negative effects on the people.  Notice in verse 5: “you were angry and we sinned, because you hid yourself, we transgressed” (64:5). Perhaps it’s a notice that we don’t do well as a people without God, without the divine essence.  Because of this, we read, "we have all become like one who is unclean and our righteous deeds are like a filthy cloth.” (64:6).

                Now this is a happy tiding for the beginning of Advent, isn’t it? How come there are no Christmas carols about this?

                But there is truth in this.  Isaiah is looking at his community and he realizes that there is no one who is righteous, no one who is immune from the evil and no one who has it completely ‘right’.  But more than this, we all have our sins and we all participate in the evils of our community.  We are all, in a sense, part of the problem.

                In the reaction to Ferguson, I have noticed that there have been some who have tried to paint this into other people people’s problems.  This about ‘looters’ or ‘thugs’ or ‘police’ or….fill in the blank.  What they fail to realize is that what happened in Ferguson is indicative of the fact that our society is broken and that is because it is made up of broken individuals.

                We may never know the exact details of what happened in Ferguson.  Since there will be no trial, there will be no further chance to examine evidence.  But what we do know is that Ferguson reveals a major crack in our culture and in our society.  Our world is broken and we cannot always sing for joy when we see these cracks. 

                But this does not mean that there is no hope.  Isaiah begs and pleads with YHWH, “Do not be exceedingly angry, O Lord, and not remember iniquity forever.  Now consider we are all your people” (64:8).  Even more desperate is the end of the chapter, “Our holy and beautiful house, where our ancestors praised you, has been burned by fire, and all our pleasant places have become ruins.  After all this, will you restrain yourself, O Lord? Will you keep silent and punish us so severely?” (64:11-12).

                The answer there is supposed to be a ‘no’ that we are expecting God to show up and answer his people and to reveal his presence to us once again.  Even though our world is a mess, even though our relationships are in tatters, even though our security has been breached and even though our economy is anemic…God is not done with us and He will be heard again.

                It may be easy for us to look at Ferguson and wonder where God is.  It may even be easy for us to dismiss his presence and say that he has abandoned us and this world…but this is not the whole story.

                Advent reminds us that even in the most ruined of places, in the most desolate spots in our lives, hope can still be sung and joy can still be found.

                Right now, things look pretty bleak for race relations in the United States…even and especially in the church.  Despite Paul’s insistence that there is neither Jew nor Greek (Gal 3:23), Sunday is the most racially divided day of the week.  The break down on opinions about Ferguson came down on racial lines with over 70% of white people believing that Michael Brown got what he deserved.  The posts on the internet range from borderline insensitive to downright offensive concerning race. 

                And yet, in spite of this…there is a sense of tremendous hope.

                Church groups are beginning to bring up the issue of race in their midst once more.  Church groups are responding and reaching out to those who have needs.

                Advent reminds us that just when things seemed their most desperate, God showed up.  After 400 years of not hearing from God, Israel could have easily abandoned their beliefs about God altogether.  Their kingdom was gone, tattered in ruins.  Yet in the midst of those ruins, in the most unlikely of places, God showed up and the world was never the same.

                As we look at the smoldering ashes of Ferguson, a world tattered and in ruins, dare we to hope that God may show up again this Advent…to change the world once more?