Monday, September 20, 2021                                   (today’s lectionary)
Memorial of Sts. Andrew Ki Taegon, Priest, and Paul Chong Ha-sang, and Companions, Martyrs
The gospel of Jesus Christ does not need my protection
We were like men dreaming.
I’ve been listening to a book called Jesus and John Wayne for two weeks now, a well-argued and documented discussion of the history of the evangelical emphasis on empowered masculinity and Christian nationalism, and the pitfalls thereof. The book made me angry, because so many of my Christian heroes were getting trashed, and because I thought the author was mostly right. But … angry? And at whom? Couldn’t I just be still and listen?
I realize the Me-Too movement throws me over to one side of a pendulum. The extremes of Christian patriarchal masculinity throws me over to the other. I’m looking for my place in the middle, where I can be a strong, gentle male reader than a shooter. I’m done toting my childhood pistol. But lately for me, that midpoint has been hard to find.
I was six, or seven, and I loved my six-gun and holster. I had reams of red caps for that gun. I stuck my slingshot inside holster belt and sauntered into the kitchen. “Got any cookies, Mom?” Dad was busy working outside, Mom was busy in the kitchen. This was in the 50’s, and I lived in a middle class white farming family in the middle of the middle of the country. I idolized Mickey Mantle. Dad gave me some white paint and a brush, I painted a strike zone on the red brick wall of our barn, and after the milking was finished I practiced my full windup and pitching stroke. The strike zone is still there. I guess I would paint it a little higher now.
Back then there had been no school shootings. Politics were slightly more civil. I didn’t question Luther’s Small Catechism. Girls wore skirts and boys wore long pants to school. Jesus and John Wayne were both heroes to me. “Family values” did not require definition.
They go forth weeping, carrying the seed to be sown, but they shall come rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves.
I can feel it coming … those were the good old days. I’m going to be 72 in November; it’s probably OK for me to wax a bit nostalgic. It’s easy to see that the world has changed a lot since 1949. But it’s more fruitful to notice how I’ve changed. I want to become more like Jesus and less like John Wayne. I don’t mean the warrior Jesus of Revelation: being like that is easy – just speak loudly and carry a big stick. But that isn’t being like Jesus in the gospels, the tough loving man who cares for all around him more than he cares for himself.
Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father. There is nothing hidden that will not become visible, and nothing secret that will not be known and come to light.
 Rachael Denhollander, a gymnast-turned-lawyer at Larry Nasser’s trial for sexual assaults against female gymnasts, said that if she were abused she would not seek help at a church, because so many leaders have turned away from the Jesus of the gospels toward the warrior king, perhaps feeling a need to protect the church, the bible, and family values from outside threats.
Rachael herself is a conservative evangelical Christian. “The gospel of Jesus Christ does not need your protection,” she said in an interview. “Jesus only asks for obedience, which means telling the truth and pursuing justice.”
(Ezra 1, Psalm 126, Matthew 5, Luke 8)
(posted at www.davesandel.net)
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