Category: Christian Discipleship

Ramah and Herod: America’s Dual Role in Gun Violence Tragedies

by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, Faith and Politics, Faith and Values, gun violence

“When Herod saw that he had been tricked by the magi, he was infuriated, and he sent and killed all the children in and around Bethlehem who were two years old or under, according to the time that he had learned from the magi. Then what had been spoken through the prophet Jeremiah was fulfilled: ‘A voice was heard in Ramah, wailing and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children; she refused to be consoled, because they are no more.’” (Matthew 2:16-18)

From Columbine, Uvalde, Sandy Hook, Annunciation Catholic Church, and so many more we can’t even remember we are all in Ramah with Rachel weeping for our children, inconsolable because they are no more. 

But for us Americans it is so much more complicated.  We are parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles, friends, cousins, neighbors, and total strangers who mourn yet more senseless violence, death, and trauma.  But we are also Herod.  There is blood on all of our hands because we have not done enough to end America’s love affair with guns.  We are the only nation in the western world where mass shootings are a regular occurrence, where young children and teachers have to go through the trauma of active shooter drills.  We now have a new generation of shooters who went through active shooter drills as children.  I wonder what impact those drills had on them. And yet our “leaders” refuse to restore assault weapons bans or institute reasonable gun control laws.

We claim to be the “land of the free and the home of the brave” when we are neither.  Our Second Amendment worshippers are so afraid of someone disagreeing with them that they need weapons of war to feel secure.  Our President is such a coward he needs tanks in the streets to prove how tough he is.  And none of us, not even young children praying in a sanctuary, a place defined as the ultimate place of safety, are free from random acts of cold blooded murder.

Yes, this is certainly a mental health problem on so many levels, starting with the fear and paranoia played upon for blood money by the NRA and the gun manufacturers.  It is their ill-gotten gains that bribe legislators to oppose gun control when those Senators and Congress people know fully well that the vast majority of us they supposedly represent support those controls.

And of course the shooters themselves need mental health help, but those same legislators who hide behind that excuse refuse to fund adequate mental health services.  Or worse they try to convince us that immigrants are the problem when we all see with our own eyes on TV that most of these shooters are angry, troubled, young white males. 

I am reminded of the great lament from Bob Dylan:

“Yes, and how many ears must one man have
Before he can hear people cry?
Yes, and how many deaths will it take ’til he knows
That too many people have died?

The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind
The answer is blowin’ in the wind.”

Tonight that wind is blowing through empty bedrooms in Minneapolis, through hospital rooms where helpless parents pray beside young wounded bodies, and through every Ramah across the country where inconsolable Rachels weep for their children.

I only pray that wind is also blowing through the hearts of our country’s leaders till they realize we are all Herod too. 

Hypocrisy and the 10 Commandments

by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, Faith and Politics, Government Reform

Those who pass laws requiring that schools post the 10 Commandments in every classroom don’t seem to have read the very words they are promoting. Many of the president’s cabinet are wearing a gold likeness of Donald Trump in their lapels instead of the American flag. That in itself tells you something about their priorities. But my point is that they are breaking the number two commandment in the Jewish Decalogue which says “You shall not make for yourself any graven image.”

I also assume those “leaders” of our nation are also unfamiliar with Exodus 32, the story of the Israelites making a golden calf to worship while Moses was up on Mt. Sinai receiving those same 10 Commandments. That did not end well and neither will this contemporary worshiping of a very fallible human.

Both of these stories remind us of the original sin, and I hate to disappoint you, but it’s not about sex. In the book of Genesis, as part of the creation story, the first humans disobey God and eat the forbidden fruit in the garden because they are told by the conniving serpent that if they eat it “they will be like God.”

That insatiable drive and greed for power has been the downfall of every empire created by humans. Those who sit around the cabinet table in the White House are either ignorant of those biblical warnings or have chosen intentionally to abandon them for the false dreams they have of gaining unlimited power as their reward for bowing down to Donald Trump. They are so blinded by their own greed that they cannot see that the emperor has no clothes.

Compassionless Leadership: Destruction of 500 Tons of Food

by Steve Harsh, posted in Faith and Values, Christian Discipleship, Faith and Politics

I am one who is certainly grateful that Jesus and the New Testament teach us that our God is merciful and gracious. I John 4:8 plainly states that “God is Love.” I John 1:9 says, “If we confess our sins God is faithful and just and will forgive our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”

And Jesus taught and practiced forgiveness right up till the very end. He taught his disciples to forgive not seven times but seventy times seven. (Matthew 18:22). And Jesus practiced what he preached. In the throes of a most painful and gruesome execution he forgave one of the thieves crucified with him ( Luke 23:43), and even asks God to forgive the very men who nailed him to that cross (Luke 23:34).

But you know who he didn’t forgive? A bunch of goats! Now, before you call the SPCA on Jesus go read Matthew 25:31-46, and if it makes you feel uncomfortable, read it again slowly. And if it doesn’t make you uncomfortable read it two more times with an open mind and heart. This parable is, of course, not about four-legged goats and sheep, but about humans and how we treat those who by the world’s standards are “the least.” The goats in this parable are those who lack basic human compassion and concern for their fellow human beings.

Here’s what Jesus has to say about those people: “Then he will say to those at his left hand, ‘You who are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels, for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.’ Then they also will answer, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison and did not take care of you?’ Then he will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’ And these will go away into eternal punishment but the righteous into eternal life.” (Matthew 25:41-46)

What made me think about that parable this week is a story in the news that has gotten much less attention than it deserves. Buried under all the coverage generated by the Jeffery Epstein saga, which is important, is a horrific report that makes me furious. Because of the deep cuts in USAID, which provided humanitarian relief to starving people in some of the world’s poorest countries, 500 tons of food already bought and paid for by American taxpayers to feed thousands of the “least” of our brothers and sisters will be destroyed. Yes, 1,000,000 pounds of food being destroyed while millions of children and adults starve to death.

That is simply criminal, immoral, and inexcusable! As I said at the beginning of this post, I am grateful for a merciful God. Because of that I do not believe in hell as a place of eternal punishment, but I am starting to rethink that. Forgive me for playing God, but I think there has to be a special form of punishment somewhere for those who cruelly withhold food from starving people.

In the parable of the sheep and goats the goats are accused of a passive failing to care for the marginalized people, but the MAGA cuts to USAID and the destruction of 1,000,000 pounds of food are an intentional act of cruel and inhumane treatment, and the Scriptures tell us that is the same as starving Christ himself. And to those Jesus says, “You who are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.”

I’m not sure what this all means; so let me end with this frequent biblical admonition: “If anyone has ears to hear, let them hear.” (Mark 4:23 and several other verses). 

Disunited We Stand

by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, Faith and Politics, Government Reform

President Trump’s Big Budget and Policy bill recently passed in the House of Representatives by one single vote, and that was with the considerable power of the Administration advocating for its passage. A procedural matter on that same bill just yesterday passed in the Senate 51-49. These razor thin margins remind us how deeply divided we are as a nation right now. But those votes also reminded me of a piece of early Ohio history that I just learned about five years ago.

This was actually my second reminder of this critical moment in my state’s history. Just last week Bishop Hee-Soo Jung preached at a Juneteenth worship service at our church. Bishop Jung is new to Ohio having been assigned to the Ohio Episcopal Area just nine months ago.

So he has been studying the history of his new home state and reminded us in his sermon that in the 19th century enslaved people in the south thought of the Ohio River as the River Jordan and Ohio as the Promised Land because if they could make it to cross that river they were free.

I told the Bishop after the service of this critical incident in Ohio’s early history that could have changed all of that imagery and reality drastically.

I wrote about that chapter in our history which included a super close vote on approving the Ohio state constitution 222 years ago in an earlier blog post, and with our current political climate being what it is I decided to repost that piece to remind us all that we’ve been here before and that acts of solitary individuals can make a history-altering difference.

The post is from June of 2000 entitled “One Vote Really Matters.”

Until very recently if one of the most important names in Ohio history were to be a Final Jeopardy answer I would have been clueless. And I’m guessing that most of my fellow Ohioans who took the required Ohio History class in middle school would also not be able to identify Ephraim Cutler.

I would still have no idea of the critical role Cutler played in shaping the history of my state if a friend of mine had not recently moved to Marietta, the first white settlement in what became the Buckeye state. Because this colleague of mine now resides in Marietta she made mention on social media of David McCullough’s recent book about Ohio’s beginnings, “The Pioneers: The Heroic Story of the Settlers Who Brought the American Ideal West.”

I am a big fan of McCullough and am very glad to be reading this book. I must say it started slow and took me awhile to get into it, but it was worth the effort for one of the most relevant stories in the book that lit up for me like a Christmas tree because of our most recent unrest about the evil of racism in our nation.

Cutler and his father were prominent leaders in establishing the first settlement in the 1790’s in the newly acquired Northwest Territory and because of their prominence in Marietta Ephraim was elected in the early days of the 1800’s as one of two delegates to represent Marietta and Washington County at the convention responsible for creating a constitution for Ohio statehood.

I was surprised to learn that one of the most heated debates at that convention held in the Territorial Capitol at Chillicothe was over whether slavery would be permitted in Ohio. And even more shocking to my naïveté was how close the vote was on the provision about slavery.

Ephraim Cutler was one of the most vocal opponents of the slavery provision, but on the day of the critical vote on that item Cutler was so gravely ill that he could barely get out of bed. His friends pleaded with him and physically helped him to get to the chamber for the vote, and it was a very important thing they did; because the proposal for Ohio to be admitted to the union as a slave state was defeated by that one single vote.

My mind is still blown by that piece of history. I am shocked at how close my home state came to being a place where human slavery was allowed. I have been self-righteously smug that we Ohioans are better than that, but we came within the narrowest of margins of becoming a slave state.

That history has helped me understand better the depth of the political divisions in our state and our country even today. I knew there have always been deep-seated disagreements about race from day one in these United States — which have never been united on that issue. But realizing how heated that debate was at the very inception of statehood here in Ohio helped me understand at a deeper level why it is so hard to resolve this issue.

Ephraim Cutler also taught me again that one life and even one vote can make all the difference in the world. Imagine what Ohio history would look like if we had become a slave state. Would we have joined the Confederacy? Would we have statues of Robert E. Lee and Stonewall Jackson being removed here in our state capital?

I thank God that brave pioneer dragged himself out of bed to take a stand for justice that day in Chillicothe. His bravery and integrity inspires me to do my part in that on-going struggle for America’s highest ideals today. I hope I do not soon forget who Ephraim Cutler was, and I thank David McCullough for telling his story. It has never been more important to study and learn from our history.

Biblical Reflections on Greed and Social Justice: A Note from Amos and Jesus to the U.S. Congress

by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, Faith and Politics, Government Reform

I’m at a loss as to what to say with regard to the Big Hateful Bill the Republicans in Congress just passed by one lousy vote. I don’t understand how those 215 people who voted for this bill to literally take food and healthcare from the most needy Americans and give that money to the most wealthy 1 % of our population can live with themselves.

But since greed and hate have been around as long as humans have I think these these words from the Judeo-Christian Scriptures should speak loud and clear to our 100 Senators who now have the fate of this cruel and ugly bill in their hands.

“Listen to this, you who walk all over the weak,
    you who treat poor people as less than nothing,
Who say, “When’s my next paycheck coming
    so I can go out and live it up?
How long till the weekend
    when I can go out and have a good time?”
Who give little and take much,
    and never do an honest day’s work.
You exploit the poor, using them—
    and then, when they’re used up, you discard them.

God swears against the arrogance of Jacob:
    “I’m keeping track of their every last sin.” (Amos 8, The Message)

Or since so many of you Senators claim to be Christians, how about these words from Jesus himself:

“You who are accursed, depart from me into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels, for I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.’ Then they also will answer, ‘Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison and did not take care of you?’  Then he will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.’  And these will go away into eternal punishment but the righteous into eternal life.” (Matthew 25:41-46 NRSV)

Squads of Love

by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, hope, Lenten devotion

The following words of wisdom hit me today right where I needed them. I had another morning when I struggled to get out of bed because I didn’t want to face another day of the awful mess our world is in. And this message by one of my favorite spiritual guides quoting another of my favorites helped me face the day.

Father Richard Rohr shared this insight in his daily meditation from the Center for Action and Contemplation:

Religion scholar Diana Butler Bass ponders the crowd’s outrage after Jesus’ first sermon in Nazareth (Luke 4:18–30)—and the courage required to resist it:  

A preacher gets up, quotes scripture, and reminds the gathered congregation that God loves the outcast—those in fear for their lives—the poor, prisoners, the disabled, and the oppressed. 

In response, an outraged mob tries to kill the preacher…. 

Jesus spoke directly to the congregation saying that God loved widows and those stricken with leprosy—implying that his neighbors had not treated widows and lepers justly. They praised God’s words about justice but were not acting on God’s command to enact mercy toward outcasts. 

That’s when they “all” got angry and turned into a mob. At least, the majority of them didn’t want to hear this. They flew into a rage. 

When they heard this, all in the synagogue were filled with rage. They got up, drove him out of the town, and led him to the brow of the hill on which their town was built, so that they might hurl him off the cliff. But he passed through the midst of them and went on his way. [Luke 4:28–30] 

… What do you do when the mob turns ugly? When widows and lepers, when LGBTQ people and immigrants, are afraid and treated cruelly—and when a brave prophet calls out the self-righteous? What do you do when there’s a lynch mob or a cross-burning? 

I suspect the unnamed heroes of this story stepped outside of the “all,” not willing to be part of the totality, and made a way for the intended victim to pass safely. Did they spot one another in the angry throng? A furtive glance, seeing another hesitant face across the room? Maybe they moved toward one another, hoping to keep each other safe. Did a few others notice the two and the small band then began to multiply? The “all” was furious; the few didn’t understand how it had come to this. 

It was frightening for them; it must have been hard to go against their family, friends, and neighbors. As they followed the mob to the bluff, they must have worried that if they spoke up they could be thrown off, too. But instead of submitting to the tyranny of the “all,” maybe they formed a little alternative community in solidarity with each other. When Jesus was herded to the cliff, perhaps it was they who saw an opening—made an opening—and helped him escape. He passed through the midst of them and went on his way. 

That is, indeed, a miracle. The bystanders find the courage to do something. 

If Jesus needed that, so do we…. We must form squads of love and make a path through together … no matter how fearsome the mob. 

And that’s the overlooked miracle of Luke 4: Only a community—even one that goes unnoticed in the crowd—the band that refuses to join the rabble—can keep us from going completely over the edge.

Fiddling While Democracy Burns: A Modern Parable

by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, climate change, Faith and Politics, Government Reform

Art often speaks more profoundly about the challenges of life than ordinary words can convey.  And just as often most of us don’t have ears to hear what the artists and visionaries are trying to tell us, at least until fiction becomes our reality.  Among other dystopian prophets I am thinking of George Orwell’s “1984,” Suzanne Collins’ “The Hunger Games,” and Margaret Atwood’s “The Handmaid’s Tale.”

Or from the Judeo-Christian Scriptures Amos and other prophets pronounce judgment on their own people for their violation of their covenant with Yahweh.  Here’s a sample from Amos:

“Thus says the Lord: For three transgressions of Judah,
    and for four, I will not revoke the punishment,
because they have rejected the instruction of the Lord
    and have not kept his statutes,
but they have been led astray by the same lies
    after which their ancestors walked.
So I will send a fire on Judah,
    and it shall devour the strongholds of Jerusalem.

Thus says the Lord:  For three transgressions of Israel,
    and for four, I will not revoke the punishment,
because they sell the righteous for silver
    and the needy for a pair of sandals—
they who trample the head of the poor into the dust of the earth
    and push the afflicted out of the way;” (Amos 2:4-7)

Anyone tempted to bow down to the idol of Christian Nationalism would do well to ponder these warnings. 

One of my favorite musicals has always been “Fiddler on the Roof.” Its theme of love conquering oppression never seems out of date and is all too relevant today. In fact when I thought about the symbolism of Fiddler I discovered that I wrote about it, not coincidentally, in 2019 during Trump’s first term.  The parallels today are even more stark.  In “Fiddler” the Jewish village of Anatevka is being forced to flee their beloved home because of Russian persecution.  We are living through such terrifying times right now in our once beautiful democracy.

Here’s what I wrote about Fiddler during Trump 1.0:  “Some of Fiddler’s insights are so good I am tempted to call it the Gospel according to Tevye. I was in a discussion the other day about praying for President Trump, and all of us present agreed we should and he certainly needs it. His erratic and delusional Messianic references to himself since then only confirm that conclusion.

One of the first things that came to my mind about praying for the President is a line from Fiddler where a Rabbi says this prayer: “God bless and keep the czar—far away from us.” On a more serious note I think one of the best parts of Fiddler is the opening where the title and its metaphor for life are explained.

“Away above my head I see the strangest sight
A fiddler on the roof who’s up there day and night
He fiddles when it rains, he fiddles when it snows
I’ve never seen him rest, yet on and on he goes

{Refrain}
What does it mean, this fiddler on the roof?
Who fiddles every night and fiddles every noon
Why should he pick so curious a place
To play his little fiddler’s tune

An unexpected breeze could blow him to the ground
Yet after every storm, I see he’s still around
Whatever each day brings, this odd outlandish man
He plays his simple tune as sweetly as he can

{Refrain}

A fiddler on the roof, a most unlikely sight
It might not mean a thing, but then again it might!”

And then Tevye says, “A fiddler on the roof. Sounds crazy, no? But here, in our little village of Anatevka, you might say every one of us is a fiddler on the roof trying to scratch out a pleasant, simple tune without breaking his neck. It isn’t easy. You may ask ‘Why do we stay up there if it’s so dangerous?’ Well, we stay because Anatevka is our home. And how do we keep our balance? That I can tell you in one word: tradition!”

Our traditions of love, compassion, hospitality and justice are under attack, but they are the solid rock and anchor we can cling to in each and every storm; and if we do we will still be around after the perils of this present age are no more.”

Today in 2025 when the prospects of anyone stopping the fascist overthrow of our democracy seem pretty slim I need to amend that last sentence.  I no longer am so confident “we will still be around” when this nightmarish storm is finally over.  I continue to hope that enough Republican members of Congress will find the courage to stop the carnage.  They are the only ones standing between us and a total dictatorship. 

Just this weekend Trump has begun ignoring court orders to stop illegal deportations.  He has also revoked pardons for some on his political enemies hit list that were issued by President Biden.  Can the Fiddler keep scratching out a simple tune or has that metaphor shifted to fiddling while our democracy burns?

And most tragic to me is that it is not just democracy burning.  Among his more than I can count acts of treason Trump has destroyed the departments and the international efforts dedicated to fighting climate change.  Mother Nature is no respecter of political ideologies.  Red and blue states are suffering the ravages of extreme weather disasters caused by climate change, and this administration simply doesn’t care.  Trump, Musk and their billionaire class only care about personal wealth and power.  But if we fail to preserve our only home in the universe nothing else is going to matter. 

So here we are, and so far there is a thread of hope symbolized by a bunch of courageous protestors who are individually and collectively fiddlers on the roof, and the question hangs in the air now as it did in Anatevka:

“A Fiddler on the roof, a most unusual sight…. It may not mean a thing, but then again it might.”

*music by Jerry Bock, lyrics by Sheldon Harnick

Eternal Love: A Journey Through Lent

by Steve Harsh, posted in Aging to Sageing, Christian Discipleship, Faith and Values, Lenten devotion

I was not in the mood for Lent this year. With everything going on in the world and my own ever-nearing 80th birthday in just 19 months the last thing I wanted to hear was “You are dust, and to dust you shall return.” I already felt lost in the wilderness and didn’t think I needed to add any more of lostness to my weary soul.

But even good habits die hard and this annual tradition kept nagging at me; so my wife and I decided to attend our church’s Ash Wednesday service on line, and I’m very glad we did. On-line worship is not usually the best way to worship for me, but I am grateful for that option when I need it. The service at Northwest UMC on Ash Wednesday was an exception to the rule for both Diana and me. It was a very well done service that was contemplative, and being at our kitchen table with only candle light to illumine the room was ideal for that particular kind of worship.

Our church had provided packets for the service that included ashes and a small piece of clay. At one point in the service, after hearing the traditional Scriptures for Ash Wednesday read, we were asked to take the clay and form it into something symbolic that would have meaning for us during the 40 day journey of Lent.

We were give time to pray about that assignment while soft guitar music played. Thanks to the wisdom of several authors I’ve been reading in the chaotic days since January 20 (Richard Rohr, Kate Bowler, Diana Butler Bass, Nadia Bolz-Weber, Brian McLaren, and Sarah Bessey) my mind was led to think about the one constant and trustworthy thing in any time of crisis, namely God’s eternal love.

So I formed my clay into the symbol for infinity which always looks like an 8 lying down to me. Then as I had time to ponder that a little longer it came to me that what I was thinking and feeling was not just a mysterious concept of never-ending infinity or even in Buzz Lightyear’s famous quote “To infinity and Beyond.”

What I was trying to capture in clay was something quite tangible and real – Love. I’ve felt that love more powerfully than ever before through my family and friends who rallied around me during my health crises in the last 8 months. I discovered that my village is a lot bigger and deeper than I realized before. The ministry of presence took on a more beautiful meaning for me in the physical and spiritual companionship that surrounded me and got me through a wilderness journey of my own.

So I decided to shape one end of my clay infinity symbol into a heart (pictured above), and it is still sitting on the kitchen table to remind me several times a day that St. Paul got it right in I Corinthians 13:7-10 when he wrote: ” Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends. But as for prophecies, they will come to an end; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will come to an end. For we know only in part, and we prophesy only in part, but when the complete comes, the partial will come to an end.”

That worship experience was a much needed reminder for me of that eternal love which is the constant, solid ground under our feet even when the foundations of everything we thought we could trust are shaking like an earthquake, to borrow a phrase from the great theologian Paul Tillich. The Ash Wednesday service I didn’t think I wanted helped me to surrender a lot of the anger and frustration I’ve been dealing with about our current political crisis, and I am very grateful.

Today I put that picture of my clay symbol on my watch and phone as wallpaper to be an even more frequent reminder for me the power of eternal love.

A funny thing happened after that Ash Wednesday service. When my wife Diana looked at my art work she said, “I like your fish.” After I explained to her what I intended my symbol to be I realized that the fish is also a great symbol for eternal love. I was also reminded that art is also mysterious and can mean different things to different people at different times.

The fish symbol has been a Christian symbol for 2000 years because the early Christians used it as a secret code to identify themselves as Jesus followers to one another in a way that they hoped would not be recognized by their Roman persecutors. The origin of the symbol came from the Greek word for fish, Ichthus. It was and still is used because the letters of the word ichthus are the first letters of the Greek phrase “Iēsous Christos theou hy ios sōtēr”, which translates to “Jesus Christ Son of God Savior”. 

So whether I see a fish or an infinity symbol when I see this piece of clay doesn’t matter. They both speak to me of God’s eternal love that will sustain me through these 40 days of Lent and through whatever the future holds until I return to dust and beyond. I hope it might do the same for you.

Contentment in Any Role

by Steve Harsh, posted in Aging to Sageing, Christian Discipleship, Faith and Values, Gratitude, purpose

“All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts…”

Those lines from Shakespeare’s “Mid Summer Night’s Dream” have been floating around in my head for quite some time. But I did not remember until I looked up the quote that it is the beginning of a monologue about the stages of life from infancy to death.

Being 78 and a cancer patient I have spent more time than I like thinking about my mortality, and that whole monologue that describes 7 stages of life fits right into that conversation in my head.

The questions I want to ask about that metaphor are two: What do you do or how do you cope when you don’t get the part you really want? And what about the times you get stuck with a part in the play of life that you really don’t want?

I’m guessing we’ve all been in both of those situations. When I was a sophomore in college a young woman I had been in a serious relationship for almost two years informed me I was no longer needed in the play of her life. She had a good reason, and I appreciated her sharing it with me. I was still devastated, but she helped me understand the break up wasn’t just about me personally; but about a career path I had chosen that she wanted no part of.

Earlier that year I had decided to switch majors from engineering to philosophy in preparation for going on to seminary after college. In other words I had opted for a very different part in a totally different play, and she did not want to play the role of a pastor’s wife. There are very good reasons to say no to what can be a very challenging unpaid, high expectations job, and I understand that better now than I did way back then. I also understand that I undoubtedly made the situation worse by making that important career decision without ever discussing it with her. Yes, I was still working from an old script where wives are subservient to their husbands.

The second half of the 20th century was a confusing time to be playing a romantic role. The old scripts of how men and women related were being thrown out, and new ones were still being written. Societal norms about sex, race, war, and peace were all in a state of flux. Life was like improv theater – we were all making it up on the fly.

That flux had major impact on the job market as well. We didn’t call it DEI back then, but in liberal circles where I played my roles as student and pastor and teacher the civil rights and women’s rights movements spurred efforts to increase diversity in the workplace and on faculties. As a white male that was a personal disadvantage to me. I had my heart set on a particular professorship when I finished my doctoral work and thought I had a good shot at it. I had been teaching at this school as an adjunct professor for two years, and my student evaluations were excellent.

Little did I know that the position had already been promised to a black woman who had taught there before me as an adjunct and left to do her PhD. I was disappointed, especially since I had turned down a role as a pastor at a church I had always admired earlier that year. Sometimes we don’t get to play the part we want or even be in that particular play, but in this case I did understand and agreed with the school’s priority on building a more diverse faculty. When I had been a student there 20 years earlier the entire faculty and administration was white and male, and the student body was 98% the same.

But to circle back to Shakespeare’s take on the stages of life as the roles we play from birth to death, I find his list rather limiting. He spends little time on the variety of parts we might play in adulthood, and I realize that life expectancy back then was much shorter than it is today. With advances in health care a productive adult life can last 50 or 60 years and may include several different careers, sometimes simultaneously.

I was a pastor, a teacher, and a university administrator in a period of 38 years of full time employment, and then spent 11 years in retirement doing all of those things on a part-time basis. But concurrent with those roles I was also a son, husband, father, brother, author, golfer, skier, softball player tennis player, runner, and friend.

But here’s my existential question for this stage I am acting on just now. In the last 8 months I have played parts I didn’t want, namely icu patient, cancer patient, and one dealing with a whole host of other old age maladies. What do we do when life throws us a curve and we find ourselves playing parts in our life drama that we never auditioned for? As I told my son a few months ago — I liked the roles I played in my 40’s and 50’s a whole lot better than this role as a senior citizen.

I can’t think about this dilemma without remembering St. Paul who had some affliction he calls “a thorn in the flesh.” We don’t know what the thorn was, but here is what Paul says about it: “Therefore, to keep me from being too elated, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to torment me, to keep me from being too elated. Three times I appealed to the Lord about this, that it would leave me, but he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.” (II Corinthians 12:7-9)

I don’t know about you, but if I were in Paul’s situation I wouldn’t be too thrilled with that answer. But God’s ways are not our ways, and being a man of great faith Paul was able to make peace with that thorn. He writes in Philippians 4:11, “I have learned in whatever state I am, to be content.” I’m not there yet with the parts I am playing in this stage of my life.

I am not content with my chronic pain. I am not content giving up most of the activities I used to enjoy. I am not content watching the country I love being destroyed by wanna be dictators and oligarchs. I am very uncontent to watch God’s beautiful creation on earth being destroyed by corporate greed that values short term profits over long term preservation of the planet.

Given all those things that disturb my contentment and peace which are important I have to realize that the stress they create in me are not healthy and in fact make me less able to respond to any of them. In spite of all the problems in our nation and the world there is still great beauty and kindness if I shift my attention to observe them and express gratitude for them. And that’s the point of Paul’s wise words just before the ones about being content. And therein lies the secret to his peace and contentment.

Here is what he says: “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. As for the things that you have learned and received and heard and noticed in me, do them, and the God of peace will be with you.” (Philippians 4:8-9)

That’s a pretty good script to play from at any age and on any stage. Break a leg.

Searching for Calm in Crisis

by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, Faith and Politics, Government Reform, hope

I’ve been struggling a lot since January 20 to keep my sanity, and I know I’m not alone. No matter how many times I tell myself that I need to not dwell on the political mayhem I don’t seem to be able to stop myself from checking my phone or turning on the tv or radio to see what the latest chaotic news out of Washington is.

When a friend asked me recently how I was, my reply was something like this: “I’m dismayed, disgusted, depressed, disillusioned, displeased, despondent, and distressed. (Full disclosure – this was at the beginning of a zoom call and knowing I would probably be asked some version of “how are you” I had rehearsed my answer knowing that this friend would immediately understand what I was saying.

While I certainly intend no implication that my situation resembles what Jesus was dealing with in the Gospels, the need for finding peace and relief from my anxiety brought to mind two passages in Mark’s Gospel.

“In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed.And Simon and his companions hunted for him. When they found him, they said to him, “Everyone is searching for you.” (Mark 1:35-37)

“The apostles gathered around Jesus and told him all that they had done and taught. He said to them, “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.” For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat. And they went away in the boat to a deserted place by themselves. Now many saw them going and recognized them, and they hurried there on foot from all the towns and arrived ahead of them. As he went ashore, he saw a great crowd, and he had compassion for them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd, and he began to teach them many things.” (Mark 6:30-34)

Jesus can’t escape the demands on his time and healing power no matter where he goes. I bet he was glad he didn’t have a cell phone so people could text or call him 24/7 with their requests for help!

But seriously, how do mere mortals like you and me cope with a world gone mad. When there seems to be no end to the pain and suffering the Trump/Musk duo and their minions are willing to inflict on the most vulnerable people in our country and around the world, and we feel powerless to stop them, what can we do?

A friend recently shared a breath prayer from author Sarah Bessey: “Inhale: Show me who to be. Exhale: And what is mine to do.” (From “Field Notes from the Wilderness”). I find the prayer relaxing, but I still am searching for a clear answer to those questions for living my life in 2025.

Paul tells us in Romans that when we don’t know how to pray the Spirit intervenes for us with “sighs too deep for words.” But right now those sighs are too deep for me to understand.

I keep coming back to one of my go to verses in Micah 6:8 where we are told what God requires of us and number one on the list is “to do justice.” But what does that look like in a world where injustice seems to have all the power? Nothing new, of course. That’s the story of human history, but it’s not something I ever expected to have to deal with in my democratic country.

I should have known better. History is full of examples of civilizations and empires that have ceased to exist in any recognizable form. And God knows the United States in spite of many admirable qualities and achievements has an ugly underbelly of racism, genocide, and imperialism that never seems to go away. And here we are in 2025 with a would be dictator using all of those ugly sins of our fathers to try and destroy the foundations of our democracy from the most powerful position in our government.

In the Judeo-Christian Scriptures when God’s people build golden calves or pursue earthly power by putting their faith in monarchs or foreign alliances things never end well. The nation of Israel is split into two opposing countries, carried into exile, and overrun in succession by Assyrians, Babylonians, Greeks and Romans.

But in all of those biblical disasters somehow there is always a faithful remnant that survives the injustice to renew the covenant with God. If we are living in such a time I am haunted by doubts that I am brave enough to be part of such a faithful remnant. What price am I willing to pay to stand up to the forces of evil?

The good news about being in a time like this is that it is a crucible where the rubber of faith meets the road. All questions are laid bare. Do I really believe in resurrection, or in that moving verse in Romans 8 that I have quoted so often that nothing, “not powers or principalities, or life or death, nothing in all creation can separate us from the love of God?”

One of my favorite images of faith is the story of Jesus and his disciples caught in a storm out on the Sea of Galilee and these brave fishermen who make their living on the sea are scared to death. When they look around for Jesus to save them they find him sound asleep in the back of the boat. He is literally sleeping through the storm.

As much as I’d like to be that calm in this or any crisis, I am much more ore like the father in Mark 9 who brought his son to Jesus to be healed. When Jesus tells him all things are possible to those who believe the father cries out, “I believe Lord, help my unbelief!”

Or there is this example from American history. “These are the times that try men’s souls” is a quote from Thomas Paine’s “The American Crisis.” Paine wrote this during the Revolutionary War to encourage the American colonists to persevere and fight for victory. Well, we are in another American crisis 250 years later, and the question is will we persevere and keep the faith in the aspirational dreams of equality for all people written by Thomas Jefferson and signed by all the founding fathers who pledged “their lives, their fortunes and their sacred honor.”

The answers to all those questions for me and for our nation are yet to be revealed, but I want to close with a powerful statement from James Weldon Johnson that I read recently in “Sojourners” magazine. His words inspire me.

“I will not let prejudice or any of its attendant humiliations and injustices bear me down to spiritual defeat. My inner life is mine, and I shall defend and maintain its integrity against all the powers of hell.”

May it be so for me and thee.