"Eyes to See the Visions of God"

Below is my homily from tonight's celebration of the Feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe.

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, Amen.

Since the earliest days of Christianity, there has been a sense among the followers of Jesus that Mary was more than simply the biological mother of Our Lord. As early as the third century, around 250 AD, there was a prayer used in the Coptic Orthodox liturgy for Christmas. It is known by its Latin name “Sub Tuum Presidium,” and in English the text is, “We turn to you for protection, O Holy Mother of God. Listen to our prayers, and help us in our needs, save us from every danger, O Glorious and Blessed Virgin.” And so, we find, from the earliest centuries, Christians asking Mary to pray for them, trusting that her love for her son, her love for his followers, would carry their own prayers for safety and protection. 

In the epistle reading appointed for today, we hear from the Revelation to John. In the vision, the temple in heaven is opened and the Ark of the Covenant is made visible in heaven. Then, parallel to the ark, a pregnant woman appears who is in the agony of giving birth. A dragon appears who wants to destroy the woman and her child. But as the woman gave birth, her child was snatched away and taken to God and the woman fled into the wilderness where God will protect her from the dragon. 

The Ark of the Covenant has long been associated with Mary. The Ark was the box constructed by the ancient Israelites to hold the stone fragments of the Ten Commandments. The Ark was kept in the Holy of Holies and God’s presence dwelt upon it. In the same way the Holy Spirit overshadowed the Ark of the Covenant, the Spirit overshadowed Mary so that she would give birth to the Son of God. And so she became the living shrine of God’s presence while the child Jesus grew within her. 

We are reminded in this reading from Revelation that Mary’s willingness to become the God-Bearer carried with it great threat. Not only did it bring the possibility of rumor and reproach that would come upon an unmarried young woman who finally found herself pregnant, but the dark powers of this world which seek to corrupt and destroy the creatures of God would also seek to harm and stop Mary from bringing God into this world. And, as the dragon pursues the offspring of the woman, we are reminded how the powers of this world seek to pursue and destroy the followers of Jesus today.

Even as early as the first century, when the Gospel of John was written, all of these connections between Mary and her son, between the followers of Jesus and the world, all of this was a part of the theological imagination of the church. And then, throughout the centuries, other Christians followed in the footsteps of John. Over and over again, Christians who lived in a time of threat and persecution, like John did, also saw visions of Mary that gave them hope in their own time. 

Today we celebrate the vision that occurred in December, 1531, in Mexico, the vision of Our Lady of Guadalupe. As we heard in the reading from the Nican Mopohua, Mary appeared to Juan Diego, an indigenous peasant, asking for him to request a church be built in her honor on the site. No one believed Juan, certainly not the Archbishop of Mexico City. But Mary told Juan to persist, that she, her little child, her little son, was the one she had chosen to make this request. 

He knew he would need a sign, but instead of going back to the site on December 11, Juan Diego found out that his uncle was ill and so he went to visit him and then, sure that he was near death, journeyed to find a priest to hear his confession and provide last rites. But Mary found Juan Diego on the way, she chided him gently for not asking her for help. She spoke to him in words that are inscribed above the main entrance to the Basilica of Guadalupe, saying, “Am I not here, I who am your mother?” She instructed Juan Diego to gather flowers from the summit of the hill—in the middle of December—and to take them to the archbishop. She arranged the flowers in Juan Diego’s cloak and when he opened the cloak before the archbishop, the roses fell out and an image of the virgin was revealed on the cloak itself. The archbishop believed. Juan Diego’s uncle was healed. And a small chapel was built on the hill at Tepeyac where Juan Diego’s cloak was put on display. 

In the time of John, the first Christians feared for their life under the threat of the Roman Empire. John reminded them that the mother of Jesus was their mother as well, that God would protect those Christians and that even in the wilderness God would protect Mary, would protect anyone who sought to bear Christ into this world by word and witness. In the sixteenth century, Mary appeared again to an indigenous peasant, making it clear that he also was her child, he also was a beloved child of God and a part of the church with full voice no matter what those in power said. And she provided her own miraculous image to prove this truth.

And I wonder, if you and I have eyes to see, what might we see today. What visions might Mary want to show us of her children, of any of those under threat from the powers of this world, any of those who are ignored and pushed aside by the religious and political authorities. Mary speaks to all children of God at all times and all places, saying, “Am I not here, I who am your mother?” May we, as the followers of Jesus today, have eyes to see the visions God would give us of our lady. May we, as followers of Jesus today, have the strength to speak truth to power, just as Juan Diego did. And may we know that God’s love holds us, cares for us, and protects us, no matter the wilderness of our lives. Amen. 

O God of love, you blessed your people at Tepeyac with the presence of the Blessed Virgin Mary of Guadalupe; grant that her example of love to the poor and forsaken may stir our faith to recognize all people as members of one family. Teach us to follow in the way you have prepared for us, that we may honor one another in word and action. May we who have been marked by your image share with the Mother of our Lord your commonwealth of peace, where he lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God in glory everlasting. Amen. 

The after party of a presidential election

Below is my column in today's edition of the Grand Haven Tribune. 

In the days following November’s election, I spent some time praying and pondering how best to respond as a pastor.

My parish, St. John’s Episcopal Church, has for decades been an historically progressive faith community. And so, there were many who were shocked and disturbed by Donald Trump’s election. At the same time, our parish strives for diversity and that includes diversity of political views. And so, there were members of my church who voted for Donald Trump for reasons that meant a lot to them – and reasons they were hesitant to share given the heat of the progressive blowback.

I worried about alienating those members of the body of Christ who had more conservative views even as I worried about marginalized members of my community who feared for their safety and security given some of the promises made by Trump in the election.

Then I remembered a book a colleague had recommended at a clergy gathering not too long ago. It is called “The After Party: Toward Better Christian Politics” by Curtis Chang and Nancy French. Both Curtis and French come from a conservative background and the book was clearly written with evangelical Christianity in mind, and yet I had heard that the principals of the book transcended party and tradition and were well worth reading. So, I put out information that, as we entered into the dark season of hope known as Advent, anyone who wanted could join me in reading the book and see if we could find a better way forward.

Much of the book is centered on the premise that there are basically four types of Christians when it comes to faith and politics, basing the typology on where an individual fell when it came to their level of hope and their level of humility.

The combatant is the Christian who is high in hope but lower in humility, fighting political battles with great hope but also with confidence that they absolutely know what’s right and that those who oppose them are absolutely wrong and out to do damage.

The opposite of the combatant is the person who is exhausted. Whereas the combatant is full of hope, the exhausted profile has pretty much lost all hope. They are humble, they don’t claim to have all the answers and are afraid no one can find a good way forward. So, they’ve kind of given up. They avoid conversations that are challenging, block people on social media, avoid the news, and would rather just not talk about politics at all. Surveys show this group is more widespread in our country than any other.

Also low on hope is the cynic. This person also has given up on engaging with those who are different than them, but they do it because they are also low on humility. They are certain they are right; they’re not interested in arguing about it anymore and they tend to, in the words of the authors, stew “in a spiritually degrading mix of pride and despair.”

The fourth type is what the authors call the disciple, the person who is both high and humility and high in hope. They are humble because they are able to acknowledge the complexity of the world and the issues that face us (compared to the certainty of the cynic and the combatant). And so they are eager to listen to those with whom they disagree, to discuss, and – most importantly – they think they might learn something. Unlike the exhausted, the disciple also is filled with hope because they believe that God is active in the world and will always raise up those who need to do the work that needs to be done. Like the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, they believe that “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice.”

If you want to take out the quiz from the book and see where you fall, you can do so online at https://redeemingbabel.org/hopehumilityquiz/.

It will perhaps surprise few of you who know me that I fell in the combatant territory (though, when I took the quiz, I was right on the edge of combatant and exhausted). At first that stung a little because it meant I have some work to do on humility. But then I took a deep breath, prayed, and realized the book is right. I do have some work to do on humility.

I also realized that another way to phrase that – both for myself and for others who might fall in a type that is low on humility – is to replace humility with curiosity. That’s not because I don’t need to grow in humility (I absolutely do), but because a great first step in developing more humility is to develop more curiosity.

While I (and a good amount of other people, I imagine), might find it challenging to be curious about the new administration that’s forming, particularly when that administration seems poised to act in ways that we believe will cause profound harm, perhaps we – perhaps I – can try to be curious about people who voted for this administration.

After all, it was not a small group of far-right extremists who voted for another Trump administration. It was a majority of our country (or, more accurately, a majority of those who showed up and voted). Even as Ottawa Impact lost its hold on our county, the county also still went for Trump by 68 percent. And so that means I need to get curious about my neighbors, my friends, and my parishioners.

It also means that if I don’t think I know people who voted for Trump, it’s likely that some of those close to me have given up on talking to me about some of the important issues facing us. Either that, or I have built a social circle that is simply an echo chamber of my own views.

I’m also grateful that each chapter of the book is clear that it’s not suggesting we are all going to be disciples, super high on hope, humility, and curiosity. In fact, each of the other groups (combatant, exhausted, and cynic) have gifts to bring to the conversation. The body of Christ is diverse, and each sort of person is needed. For people like me, the book says what is essential is remembering that my true battle is not against those who disagree, but against powers that seek to harm God’s children. If I can fight that battle, while being curious about those who are caught up by those powers, I’m heading in a good direction.

No one truly knows what the next four years will bring (except that we all probably agree there is going to be some upheaval.). But we must keep talking to one another if we want the next four years to move us forward as a people. I’m going to try harder on my end to do this better. I hope you’ll join me.

The Rev. Dr. Jared C. Cramer serves as rector of St. John’s Episcopal Church in Grand Haven. Information about his parish can be found at www.sjegh.com.