Category: Christian Discipleship

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.

The Trump-Musk Coup: A Call to Action for Democracy

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

“I don’t ever want to lose sight of how short my time is here. I don’t ever want to forget that resistance must be its own reward, since resistance at least within the lifespan of the resistors, almost always fails…” (Ta-Nehisi Coates, “We Were Eight Years in Power: An American Tragedy”)

Spoiler alert: this post may seem unfocused and fragmented because by design the Trump-Musk coup is throwing so much chaos at us all at once that it is nearly impossible to stay focused or to know how to resist. Like Will Rogers said, “I am not a member of any organized political party — I am a Democrat.” So we have once more underestimated the depth of organization and evil of the Trump led GOP – Gutless Obsolete Party.

My only hope for democracy’s survival is that the better-late-than-never legal challenges to the Musk led destruction of our government will save at least part of our constitutional democracy. I am still searching for what I personally can do to resist. I write here still believing the pen is mightier than the sword, but knowing full well that Trump’s racist, hateful sharpie with which he signs a daily barrage of unconstitutional executive orders carries more weight than my meager words.

I hate what the Musk/Trump duo is doing even as I pity both of them for the total lack of any compassion or human kindness in them. I do pray for them because they both must have led horrible lives of empty searching for love and affirmation to be so void of any empathy for their fellow human beings.

But what bothers me much, much more is the response or lack thereof by the Republican members of Congress to this obvious attack on our democracy. The January 6 insurrection failed by violent means to overthrow our government; so Trump spent the last four years planning a bloodless coup that has moved with astonishing speed in just three weeks. And the tragedy is that it would only take four of the 53 Republicans in the US Senate to have the guts to put their precious seats of power on the line to stop the parade of dangerous, incompetent cabinet appointees from being handed the keys to power. That has not happened because we are told they are afraid of being primaried and losing their seats.

The irony of course is that by failing to do their constitutional duty to provide checks and balances on an unbalanced President they are handing over any power they have. The precious jobs they sell their souls for are empty and meaningless, and if they think this coup will stop before eviscerating the role of Congress completely they simply are not paying attention.

Former Senate majority leader Mitch McConnell was interviewed last week on 60 minutes by Leslie Stahl who asked some hard ball questions. She reminded McConnell (1) of his brave speech after the January 6 insurrection when he said Trump was unfit to ever serve as President again and (2) that he soon changed his tune to say that if Trump was the Republican nominee he would support him. When Stahl asked him why he changed McConnell’s lame excuse was “Because I’m a Republican.”

No, Mitch, first and foremost you are an American who took an oath to defend the U.S. Constitution, and you and your cowardly colleagues should be impeached for failing to keep that promise. McConnell gets an extra helping of my ire because of his conspiracy with Trump to stack as many of the federal courts, from the Supremes on down, with equally spineless yes people who have granted Trump immunity and enabled him to avoid any real repercussions for his many crimes.

And it is all so unnecessary. If McConnell had shown courageous leadership after January 6 Trump would have been impeached and prevented from ever doing any further damage to our democracy. So the Gutless Obsolete Party is getting what they deserve, but at the expense of all Americans and millions of people around the world who will literally die because of the selfish, transactional motives of Trump and his acolytes who are cutting off critical life-saving aid to impoverished people all over the world.

If we were truly a Christian nation we would know that we help other people because they need help, not for whatever they might be able to do for us in return. The Good Samaritan didn’t stop to ask what was in it for him if he helped the man in the ditch. He did it because he could, and it was the right thing to do. We must demand nothing less from ourselves as the richest nation in the world.

Oligarchy Inaugurated

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

January 20, 2025 was a day of extreme highs and lows for me and for many of my friends. It is a day that may go down in history as the day the American experiment in democracy died. As of yesterday we are living in an oligarchy, and whether we the people can survive it hangs very much in the balance. It will depend on how much courage enough people can muster to fight for their freedom before it is too late. Our democracy is on life support, and only the citizens of this country can determine if it will live or die.

For millions of Americans January 20 was also a unique and special day in the world of sports. The first ever 12-team College Football Playoffs culminated that evening with a championship game between two historic football power house teams, Notre Dame and Ohio State. Being a life-long Ohio State fan it was a special treat for our local team to play in that game, and for 3.5 hours it was a riveting and welcome distraction from the threat unfolding in Washington D.C.

After enjoying the post-game victory celebration for Ohio State for about an hour I made the foolish mistake of checking my phone for the news before going to bed. Needless to say reading about the plethora of executive orders signed yesterday by our new Supreme Leader quickly put a damper on my spirit. It wasn’t unexpected, and I should have known better; but it was a reminder that a much more important contest is being waged than a football game. It was time to come back to reality.

Ironically yesterday was also Martin Luther King Jr. Day, and the contrast between his dream for America and the Trump oligarchy could not be starker. One is a dream of justice for all described in the amazing founding documents of our nation 248 years ago. King’s dream is also grounded in the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures which describe all people as being created in the image of God. King gave his life as Jesus did proclaiming a Gospel of love and non-violence.

 But the Trump oligarchy is one founded on capitalistic selfishness and greed. It is based on the exclusive doctrine of racism and white supremacy where strangers and neighbors in our midst live in fear of imprisonment and deportation. It is a message of imperialism and American exceptionalism where might makes right. President Trump’s promise of a new Golden Age is a barely disguised reference to the Gilded Age of robber barons which will take us back 100 years,  undoing the hard won progress on women’s rights, unionization, minimum wages, civil rights, global cooperation, the climate crisis, and humane working conditions. We have to look no further than Putin’s Russia to see what the nightmare of oligarchy brings.

Jesus directly warned us in the Sermon on the Mount that we cannot serve God and money (Matthew 6:24), and the proof that we worship the latter in this country was blatantly obvious as the richest men in the world were given the seats of highest honor at Trump’s inauguration. Today I am overwhelmed with feelings of anger, fear, and depression. I feel helpless to know how to combat the evil on full display in the White House. But tomorrow or one day in the future I will find a way to join the 50% of my fellow Americans who did not vote for oligarchy and together with God’s help we will find a way to turn this nightmare into a brighter, stronger, and more just democracy than ever before. I may not live to see that day, but in God’s due time I do believe that “justice will roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream.” (Amos 5:24)

Jimmy Carter, Servant Leader Par Excellence

by Steve Harsh, posted in Christian Discipleship, Faith and Politics, spiritual discipline

I came of age politically in the bloody year of 1968, a year of political assassinations and a violent Democratic National Convention in Chicago. Hubert Humphrey, badly weakened by those events and the increasingly unpopular Viet Nam War, lost that year’s Presidential election to Richard Nixon, who won a landslide re-election over George McGovern four years later. I was 0-2 in presidential election votes.

Nixon was forced to resign in disgrace by the Watergate scandal just two years later in 1974, setting the stage for a little-known Georgia governor/peanut farmer to launch an unlikely presidential campaign in 1975. Elected by a razor slim margin in 1976, that 39th U.S. President was Jimmy Carter who died recently at the age of 100.

I have great admiration for this President who was one of the most honest and compassionate to ever serve as our Commander in Chief. His record of human rights promotion and tireless work for peace and justice while in office and for forty years afterward is an example of faith-based servant leadership that few have achieved; but all of us should emulate if we want our badly broken world to survive the current political, economic, and ecological crises facing us.

Much more eloquent tributes than mine have poured in from all over the world since President Carter’s death, but I have a personal memory in addition to all of his remarkable accomplishments. Jimmy Carter was the first presidential candidate I ever voted for who actually won the election. In fact in my first six presidential election cycles Jimmy Carter was my only winner.

In retrospect Carter was too honest and kind to survive in the dog-eat-dog world of Washington politics. So he will not go down in history as a very successful President in spite of remarkable legislative accomplishments, significant civil rights and women’s rights actions, and the Camp David peace accords between Egypt and Israel.

I had forgotten that the two things that doomed Carter’s re-election in 1980, the Arab oil embargo and the hostage take over of the U.S. embassy in Tehran, were done in retaliation for Carter’s peacemaking efforts and his compassionate welcome of the former Shah of Iran to the U.S. for medical treatment.

There was also some underhanded dealing by Carter’s Republican challenger, Ronald Reagan, who struck a deal with Iran to hold the hostages until after the election. As I said before, Carter was too honest and kind for political infighting.

As I have listened and read about President Carter in the last week I have been humbled by his faith-based commitment to a life of service in spite of illness and advancing age. He created a new vision of what it means to continue to serve humanity after “retirement” from public service.

He and Rosalyn did more for humanity after the age of 90 than most of us ever accomplish in a lifetime. At the age of 78 I personally have trouble making it through one day at a time, and yet as a cancer surviving octogenarian Jimmy and Rosalyn circled the globe building houses, curing diseases, and promoting democracy.

And in his spare time Carter taught Sunday School for decades and wrote 30 books! How he managed that much writing given his schedule is way beyond me. I self-published one small book 13 years ago and haven’t had the discipline or energy to attempt another one since.

As a pastor I also have great admiration for Carter’s prophetic witness about human rights for women and LGBTQA+ people. He humbly credits his mother Lillian for his inclusive attitude toward all people, and they were both way ahead of their time. Carter was such a man of principle that he left his life-long membership in the Southern Baptist Convention over his denomination’s discrimination against women pastors and leaders.

If anyone has ever deserved to hear the words, “Well done, you good and faithful servant,” it is James Earl Carter, Jr., humble peanut farmer, 39th President, and exemplary servant leader. As I begin 2025 one of my goals is to in some small way live a life worthy of Jimmy Carter’s example.

Sports Parables for Advent

by Steve Harsh, posted in Advent, Christian Discipleship, peacemaking

One of my very few good memories from my Little League baseball days ironically occurred when I was batting against the very best pitcher in our league. Jim was a great athlete. He went on to star in football, basketball, and baseball in our local high school and then went on to pitch for Ohio State University in college.

 I, on the other hand, was the epitome of the 90 pound weakling. I love sports and played them all in neighborhood pickup games, but I was severely overmatched when it came to organized baseball. So, when I stepped into the batter’s box that day against this hard throwing lefty everyone, including Jim, my coaches, and me, knew that I had zero chance of getting the bat around fast enough to hit Jim’s fastball.

 The only things I had going for me were that I was a good bunter, and a had good baseball mind, even at age 10. I don’t remember if the idea came to me while watching Jim pitch from our bench or in the on deck circle, but somewhere prior to stepping up to bat I noticed that when Jim’s follow through when he released the ball was carrying him toward the 3rd base side of the infield. So I concluded that if I could bunt the ball to the first base side it would be harder for him to field it.

Our bunt sign was a tug on his ear by our first base coach, and I was thrilled to see him flash me that sign. My plan worked to perfection. I was able to lay down a good bunt up the first base line, far enough that neither the catcher nor the pitcher could get to it in time and short enough that the first baseman couldn’t either. I don’t remember if I was able to advance from first that day, and I’m sure Jim got me out every other time I faced him unless I drew a walk because of my small strike zone. But on that one day my David was successful over Jim’s Goliath by using my head when my braun was far from up to the task.

A current example of that principle occurred just two weeks ago. Unless you are a Sr. citizen like me and a long-time college football fan the name Wayne Woodrow “Woody” Hayes may not mean much to you. But in Columbus, Ohio you only have to use the nickname “Woody’ and everyone knows of whom you speak. Woody was the longest tenured head football coach of Ohio State University football from 1951-1978, amassing 13 Big 10 championships and 5 national titles.

College football was, granted, a different game in many, many ways back then, but the biggest difference on the field was that the running game was much more important than today’s emphasis on passing. So Woody was famous for his offensive philosophy dubbed “4 yards and a cloud of dust.” He also liked to say that “when you pass two things can happen, and two of them are bad.”

I have a non-football point here, so bear with me, please. About two weeks ago Ohio State suffered a huge upset at the hands of bitter rival the University of Michigan. These OSU Buckeyes have one of the best passing offenses in the nation and used it to score their only touchdown of the game quite easily just before half time to tie the score at 10-10. Buckeye Nation breathed a huge sigh of relief thinking the Offensive Coordinator had awakened from his post-Thanksgiving slumber. But then in the second half the Bucks reverted to a Woody offense repeatedly running the ball into the center of Michigan’s defensive line, the strongest part of their line, even when it gained very little.

The end result was a scoreless second half for OSU and a stunning 13-10 upset loss to an unranked, five-loss team we were favored to beat by 20 points. There are no shortage of Sunday and Monday morning quarterbacks in Columbus, but I hit upon an Advent-related theory to what happened in the “Shoe,” (the nickname for OSU’s horseshoe shaped stadium).

So here goes: OSU has been accused, after losing three straight games to Michigan, of being “soft.” So my theory is that the OSU players and especially the coaches had two goals on November 30. One was to win the game, but I think the second goal may have taken precedence over winning; and that goal was to prove how “tough” they are. And the way to do that is to prove you can run the ball successfully against the highly ranked Michigan defensive line.

And so we kept doing that over and over, even when it was quite obvious to us “expert” fans that it wasn’t working. Sometimes, OSU coaches, playing smarter is better than brute force. I think the play calling, and football in general, is a. prime example of toxic masculinity. But here’s the Advent connection. John the Baptist was a wild man, tough enough to live in the wilderness and eat wild honey and locusts, but even he knew his kind of strength wasn’t the most important. John said, “… the one who is coming after me is more powerful than I, and I am not worthy to carry his sandals.” (Matthew 3:11) John didn’t understand Jesus’ power, but he came to prepare the way for one who was the real Messiah, the one who was able to reject all of Satan’s temptations of worldly power, who taught us to turn the other cheek, to pray for, to love, and even forgive our enemies!

Author Joseph Nye Jr. didn’t reference Jesus’ kind of power in his 1990 book, “Soft Power,” but the parallels are significant. Nye’s work argued that post-Cold War we need a different approach to international relations than the “Hard Power” of military strength and war. Soft Power relies on things like diplomacy, negotiation, compromise, and collaboration.

In similar words Jesus came in the tradition of Isaiah, Micah, and other Hebrew prophets who proclaimed peace that beats swords into plowshares, and treating aliens in your midst like everyone else. He knew real power is as Psalms 20:7 says, “Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God.”

This all explains why Jesus was born in a barn and not in a palace; why he picked fishermen and tax collectors for his disciples and not temple or political leaders; why he washed feet at the Last Supper; and why he told Peter to put away his sword in the Garden of Gethsemane before going peacefully with his captors to the cross. Jesus knew where the real power lay, even at age 12 when he chose to be in God’s house teaching the elders rather than listening to their version of power.

Jesus knew that those expecting a warrior king, including the Zealots and some of his disciples, were wrong and he resisted their urging to take up the sword and drive the hated, oppressing Romans out.  Can you image what a debacle that would have been to put Jesus’ rag tag band up against the Roman legions?  Jesus knew better.

Unfortunately 2000 years later we are still not as smart as Jesus was at age 12. As a pre-teen Jesus knew no one wins in the game of war. Violence of any kind only begets more violence and perpetuates the cycle of revenge and retribution.

My prayer is that for Advent and Christmas 2024 is that we will let this child lead us and that his true message of peace on earth for all people will penetrate deeply into our notion that wealth, worldly power, and toxic toughness have never worked and never will. Come, Lord Jesus, Come.