Mennonite history and theology is rich, diverse, and increasingly multicultural and multinational. A Mennonite congregation in one place may be drastically different from another Mennonite congregation a few miles away. Urban Mennonites tend to be quite different from rural Mennonites, and Black and Asian and Latino Mennonites tend to be different from each other and from those of Dutch, German, and Russian stock.
But there is a core at the heart of what it means to be Mennonite–or at least I believe there is. For me, it can be boiled down to three key distinctives in how we follow Jesus:
Service. One of the characteristics that I find to be the strongest among Mennonites, at least as I’ve encountered it in North America, is a commitment to serve others in need. Unlike most of society, Mennonites do not believe in pursuing wealth, fame, or power; we believe that the purpose of life and the call of Jesus is to pursue serving others and making this a better world. This does not mean that obtaining wealth, fame, or power is wrong; but if any of these selfish goals is our pursuit, then we have misconstrued life’s priorities. As a result of this value, Mennonites often volunteer for disaster relief and community assistance, they love to raise money for relief and development projects, and they tend to go into service professions in disproportionate numbers (e.g. medicine, teaching, social work, etc.). Other professions are also legitimate and good, so long as our purpose is not ourselves, but the wholeness of humanity.
Nonviolent Peacemaking. Mennonites are known, perhaps more than anything else, for their commitment to nonviolence. Following the example of Jesus and his explicit command to “love your enemies,” Mennonites believe in overcoming evil with good, even if this means suffering harm rather than causing harm. This isn’t based simply on a revulsion toward violence (though that’s certainly a part of it), but a deep-seated conviction that Jesus has shown us that nonviolent love is what ultimately defeats the power of evil. Whenever we resort to violence, even for a just cause or to prevent the abuse of the innocent, we are feeding and keeping alive a spiritual power that is fundamentally at odds with the Spirit of God. The heart of God is nonviolent, self-giving love that ultimately overcomes all evil. Mennonites bring this conviction not only to big issues such as involvement in war, but also into everyday life. Peacemaking is to be done at every level, bringing about justice, conflict resolution, and reconciliation through equal valuing and respect of every human being. Mennonites are not passive; they often endorse such tools as protests, strikes, boycotts, noncooperation, and civil disobedience to bring attention to injustices and compel changes in social policy; but these tools must be consistent with love and respect for all. The biblical vision of shalom, of all being made well and people living in peace, motivates our hope and action. Not all individual Mennonites are absolutely committed to nonviolence, and few of us know what we would actually do in traumatic situations, but rather than training ourselves in the use of violence, we train ourselves in the arts of peacemaking.
Church as Community. For Mennonites, the church is not a building or a place to worship once or twice a week, it is essentially a community of Jesus’ followers engaged in mutual help, love, nurture, and commitment. Together we worship, take care of one another, discern God’s will, and make decisions. The church truly is an extended family. Most Mennonite congregations, though led by pastors or leadership teams, tend to be egalitarian, removing special privileges for the few. Humbleness is a virtue that ought to be demonstrated by all, especially those who lead.
From these three essentials flow many other features that are characteristic of many Mennonites: an emphasis on living a simple lifestyle that is kind to the earth and frees up resources for those in greater need; an allegiance to God’s kingdom that supersedes all other allegiances, including nationalism (American flags are rare in U.S. Mennonite churches); and a tendency to do things on a smaller, more intimate scale, rather than striving for bigness and mass popularity.
Of course, not every Mennonite or Mennonite congregation may look like the above, but I think most do. Nor are these characteristics exclusive to Mennonites. The Church of the Brethren, the Society of Friends, and some other denominations also share many of these values and emphases. Our object is not to be distinctive for the sake of being distinctive (that may be more true of the Amish); our object is simply to follow Jesus as faithfully as we can.
(This concludes my series on “What Do Mennonites Believe?”)
Continuing our series on “What Do Mennonites Believe?” we turn now to a Mennonite understanding of how the church and state relate to one another. To see how distinctive the Mennonite stance is, let me compare it to three other major Protestant stances:
Martin Luther: Martin Luther believed that there are two kinds of kingdoms operating in this world: the kingdoms of the world (national and local governments) and the kingdom of Christ (a spiritual kingdom among us). The kingdoms of the world have boundaries, armies, courts, etc. They operate on the ethic of “natural law”–a sense of justice that is common to human beings. So the task of worldly governments is to provide justice in the form of protecting citizens from harm and punishing wrongdoers. To do this, governments must rely on the threat and use of force. The kingdom of Christ, on the other hand, has no boundary to defend and no armed forces. It operates from Jesus’ ethic of love for all people, even enemies. Its task is to share and live out the message of God’s love and to redeem sinners. For Luther, it is impossible for governments to operate from Christ’s ethic of nonviolent love. If governments operated from an ethic of love, lawless people would take advantage of the situation to act selfishly and destroy all justice in the world. So the dilemma for Luther is: should Christians follow the ethic of love, given to us by Christ, or the ethic of natural law that allows for the use of force and violence for the sake of maintaining civil order and justice? Luther answered this question by saying that the Christian belongs to both kingdoms simultaneously–the government and the kingdom of Christ. As an individual, the Christian must operate from the ethic of love, so Christians (as individuals) should never use violent force or even carry a weapon. But if the Christian, as a citizen of the state, is called upon to represent the state through being a soldier or judge or executioner, the Christian–as a representative of the state–must operate from the ethic of natural law and use violence as justly permitted by the state.
John Calvin: John Calvin took a different approach. He agreed that there are two kingdoms–the kingdoms of the world and the kingdom of Christ, but he held that it is the duty of the church to transform the kingdoms of the world into the kingdom of Christ. In other words, all governments ought to become Christian, run by Christian principles and ethics. But according to Calvin, the Christian ethic is not only nonviolent love; the Christian ethic also includes the use of force to provide security and justice–as we see in ancient Israel’s law codes and holy wars. So the task of the church is to base government laws and wars on Old Testament models. The Christian, as an individual, lives by nonviolent love as taught by Jesus, but as a representative of the government the Christian lives by Old Testament law which is meant for Christian governments.
Anabaptists: The Anabaptists were the radical wing of the Reformation; they disagreed with both Luther and Calvin, and Mennonites come from this strand of the Reformation. Agreeing with Luther, the Anabaptists believed there are two kingdoms–the kingdoms of the world and the kingdom of Christ–and that the kingdoms of the world operate from force to provide justice and order whereas the kingdom of Christ operates from nonviolent love. They also agreed with Luther that it is not possible for the kingdoms of the world to become the kingdom of Christ because it is not possible for worldly governments to operate from love. But unlike Luther, they held that the Christian, by giving loyalty to Christ above all, can no longer do any government function that is contrary to the way of Christ’s love. The church is an alternative kingdom in this world; it is its own government, operating by Christ’s ethic of love. God allows worldly governments to use force for the sake of order and justice, but that is for the unredeemed. The redeemed do not require the use of force; our life together is ordered by love and we never use force to defend ourselves.
This position led, logically, to most Mennonites (and especially the Amish) withdrawing from political engagement in government. They did not run for office or vote in elections. Worldly governments operate contrary to Christ’s law of love and thus are incompatible for those who follow Christ. But in the latter half of the 20th century, this position began to change, partly due to the influence of Quakers and the civil rights movement led by Martin Luther King Jr.
Quakers: Quakers agree with Calvin that it is the task of the church to transform government, to make it more like the kingdom of Christ. But unlike Calvin, Quakers agreed with Anabaptists that Christ’s kingdom relies on love, not force or violence. But unlike Luther and the Anabaptists, Quakers believe that it is possible for governments to become nonviolent and operate from the ethic of love. This is possible, according to Quakers, because the light of Christ is in everything. The Gospel of John says that everything was created through the Word which enlightens all things. So Christ’s way of love is inherent in everything and everyone. The task of the church is to call out that light of Christ that is in everything and everyone. William Penn, a Quaker, established Pennsylvania on this principle. For seventy years the commonwealth of Pennsylvania (largely made up of pacifist Quakers, Mennonites, and Church of the Brethren) had no militia and fostered peaceful relations with native tribes by honoring all treaties. But as Pennsylvania became filled with settlers not sharing this commitment, the Quaker legislature was forced to resign when the settlers demanded a militia to fight in the French and Indian War.
In the 1950s and 1960s American society saw the power of nonviolent love in action through the civil rights movement. This convinced many Mennonites that justice could be achieved in broad society without having to use force or violence. Maybe the government (local and national) could move, step by step, toward more love and less use of force while also providing justice. Many Mennonites concluded that the role of the church should be to be a witness of nonviolent love and justice for influencing and persuading the government. This opened the door to voting and running for office–so long as one did not have to approve the use of violence. The goal is not to make the government “Christian” (only those who make their own freely chosen commitment to Christ are Christian), but to bend the government toward Christ’s way of love, and justice for the weak and excluded.
So the Mennonite approach to relating to the state has become more similar to the Quakers–more engaging and more optimistic of what is possible in the “kingdoms of the world.” But Mennonites do not endorse passing laws forcing all people to adopt our specific Christian ethic. The law must be nonsectarian, not based on any particular religion. Separation of church and state, and supporting democracy based on a pluralistic society of freely chosen faiths in which the government does not privilege a particular religion, is basic to the Mennonite understanding of what it means to be Christian.
Last week in my series on “What Do Mennonites Believe?”, I explored how many leaders in Mennonite Church USA understand the authority of the Bible. This then brings us to a crucial question: what is the right way to interpret the Bible?
When Martin Luther translated the Bible into German so that the common people could read it for themselves, he assumed that the message of the Bible would be fairly easy to understand. History has proven him wrong. What happened instead is that a wide variety of different ways of interpreting the Bible proliferated. That’s because the Bible is a large, complicated book, written by many different authors over many centuries, with different perspectives and purposes, and not all agreeing with each other! Because there are so many tensions and differences within the Bible, and because its message and purposes are not always clear, the reader needs to make interpretive decisions. The result: thousands of different interpretations!
For example: Martin Luther believed that certain books of the Bible that he believed articulated the central message of the Bible most clearly should be used to interpret other books of the Bible that were less clear or central. He chose the Gospel of John as the clearest gospel, and Paul’s letters to the Romans and the Galatians as the clearest letters. For Luther, these books made it clear that the central message of the Bible is that we are saved by faith alone in Jesus Christ, not by works. Other books, such as the Epistle of James, Luther thought were woefully inadequate and misleading. This approach is called a canon within the canon. In other words, some books are more special–even more inspired–than others.
John Calvin, another great reformer, disagreed strongly with Luther about this. Calvin taught that all books of the Bible, indeed all verses of all books of the Bible, are equally inspired and have equal authority. The Old Testament is just as much the church’s authoritative scripture as the New Testament. There is no canon within the canon. Calvin believed that despite the tensions and apparent disagreements within the Bible we are obligated to make them all consistent with each other. One way to do this is to say that New Testament commands to love our enemies and be nonviolent are meant for our personal lives, whereas the Old Testament laws about capital punishment and war are for society and government. We apply different scriptures for different aspects of life, or for different times and places, so that they are all equally true and consistent with each other.
Mennonites agree with Luther more than with Calvin on this point. The Bible is not a static book; it is a book that is dynamic, responding to different situations and cultures and new questions. It is a holy dialogue among the authors (even within the books themselves) and they don’t all agree. There is movement; there is direction; there is sometimes progression in thought and understanding. There are sometimes a “minority report” which–later–becomes the dominant message. To honor this dynamic and movement we must find the interpretive key. There is indeed a canon within the canon.
But Mennonites disagree with Luther as to what is the canon within the canon. Rather than privileging Paul’s message of salvation through faith rather than works (Mennonites believe this isn’t what Paul is saying in any case), Mennonites make Jesus’ own teachings and example the key to interpreting the rest of the Bible. If Jesus is indeed the Word made flesh, the clearest and most direct expression of God’s self-disclosure, then it is his life and teachings which ought to be the beginning point for understanding the entire Word of God. And of the four Gospels, it is the first three (especially Matthew and Luke) that actually contain the most teachings of Jesus. Here is where we find all of his parables, his guidance on moral questions, and most of his healing ministry. And when it comes to Jesus’ teachings for guiding his disciples, the greatest collection of his teachings of all is the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew, chapters 5-7). For Mennonites, this is the high point of the Bible, the clearest expression of God’s will for us. Everything else in the Bible should be interpreted in this light.
That doesn’t mean the Old Testament is inferior. Indeed, everything Jesus teaches is first found in the Old Testament. So Jesus actually helps us find the best path through the Old Testament.
But even if we use Jesus’ teachings as the key for interpreting the rest of the Bible, there will still be many disagreements about how to understand and apply various parts of the Bible today. Are we doomed to have a church in which everyone simply interprets the Bible for themselves, resulting in a permanently splintering church? Mennonites believe that the most sound interpretation of the Bible is discerned by all believers studying and praying together. Scholars can help us understand what the Bible meant in its own time, but only a church of practicing disciples can rightly discern what God is saying to us now through these scriptures. So the Mennonite church tends to be a “bottom up” structure, rather than “top down.” It is all of us, interpreting together, that must decide what is the best way to do God’s will now in this moment and circumstance. That doesn’t mean the group always is right, but the group has a much better chance of being led by the Spirit of Christ than our own individual interpretations.
As I continue this blog series on “What Do Mennonites Believe,” a crucial question is how Mennonites understand the authority of the Bible. It is quite common for some churches to insist that a Christian must believe in the inerrancy of the Bible. Mennonite Church USA does not believe this. We understand the authority of the Bible differently.
First of all, what does the “inerrancy” of the Bible mean? This means that the Bible is believed to be without any errors of any kind–historical, scientific, ethical, or theological. All of the authors of the Bible were inspired by the Holy Spirit, writing exactly as God intended them to write. As a result, the Bible is thoroughly and factually true in everything it says.
There are some important caveats to this position. The authors, though inspired by the Holy Spirit, still displayed their own personalities as they wrote. Another caveat is that the Bible sometimes uses figurative language which should not be taken literally. Another important point is that what God willed in one part of the Bible may not be what God wills today–that some instructions were for a limited time and place. Finally, some minor mistakes did creep into the Bible due to scribal errors during the centuries of making hand-made copies; but the original writings of the original authors were totally free of any mistakes.
Even with all of these caveats, the Mennonite Church generally rejects the idea that the Bible is inerrant. Inerrancy misunderstands the nature, purpose, and authority of the Bible.
A term I often hear among Mennonites to describe the Bible is “infallible.” Some might think this means the same thing as inerrant. But when Mennonites say the Bible is infallible, they generally mean this: the Bible cannot fail in the purposes for which it was written. So what is the purpose of the Bible? Is the purpose of the Bible to give us scientific information about how and when the universe was formed? No. Is the purpose of the Bible to give us historical facts? Although there are certainly many historical facts in the Bible, telling history (in the modern sense) is not really its purpose. So what is the purpose of the Bible?
For Mennonites, the purpose of the Bible is to guide us into a trusting relationship with God, and then to live out that faith relationship through moral action and doing God’s will. So Mennonites commonly say that the Bible cannot fail in matters of faith and practice.
It seems to me this is the Bible’s own view of itself. For instance, 2 Timothy 3:16-17 says: “All scripture is inspired by God and is useful for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, so that the person of God may be proficient, equipped for every good work” (NRSVUE). Notice that the purpose of scripture in this passage is practical: it teaches, guides, trains, and equips so that we can do God’s good work. When we use the Bible as a basis for scientific information about the universe, or as a final authority on who was king during a certain period of Israel’s history, we are misunderstanding its nature and misusing it. Mennonites, as I’ve pointed out in previous posts, focus on actual discipleship, actual following of God. That’s what most matters and that’s where the authority of the Bible lies.
Most Christians refer to the Bible as “the Word of God.” But many Mennonites prefer to call the Bible the human witness to the Word of God.
When the Bible refers to “the Word of God” it is referring to the words spoken by prophets, as well as to God’s rescuing actions in history, as well to God’s act of creation. The Gospel of John begins with the famous statement that in the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God, and that everything was created through the Word. One translator paraphrased this as: “In the beginning God expressed himself.” The Word is God’s self-expression, God’s creativity, God’s grace, and God’s rescuing action. We are then told that the Word “became flesh and dwelt among us.” What this all means is that the Bible is not the Word of God. Jesus himself is the embodiment of the Word of God. He himself is its clearest, most direct expression. The Bible, on the other hand, is the human, inspired witness to Jesus as the Word, and the witness to other less direct manifestations of the Word of God in the story of Israel.
This view is not unique to Mennonites. Martin Luther also made a distinction between the Bible and the Word of God. He called the Bible the manger that holds the Christ child who is the Word of God. An early Anabaptist leader referred to the Bible as the sign outside the wine shop, whereas it is the wine inside that is the actual Word of God. In other words, the Bible is the container for the Word of God. It’s not the pages or ink or even the individual words on the page that are the Word of God; it is the grace of God that it reveals.
This then has implications for how we interpret the Bible. it means that when we want to know God’s will in its greatest clarity and fulness, we should start with the teaching and example of Jesus. The rest of the Bible should be interpreted in his light.
It also means that we can freely acknowledge that the biblical authors, even though inspired by God’s Spirit, are still writing within their own historical and cultural contexts. They are limited by the facts they know and don’t know, and by the assumptions of their times. So to interpret the Bible correctly we must stay focused on the Bible’s underlying purpose: nurturing trust in God and putting God’s love into practice, not cultural assumptions or scientific/historical information.
Another implication of this understanding of the Bible’s authority is that it does not matter who wrote the individual books. It does not matter whether Moses did or did not write the first five books, or whether Paul did or did not write 1 and 2 Timothy, or whether the Gospels of Matthew and John were written by Jesus’ own disciples. These are issues over which scholars argue on the basis of internal and external historical evidence. For the church it is all beside the point. The Bible’s authority is its power to convey what God has done and is doing, and to nurture trust and a life of wholeness and healing.
Today I continue my series (begun last week) on what Mennonites believe. This is not an official statement, but my understanding of the sometimes unique way Mennonite Church USA approaches a variety of central beliefs.
A central concern of most Christians, and of the Bible, is how we are saved. But saved from what, and saved for what? What does salvation actually mean? A typical answer by many Christians would be something like this: To be saved means to be forgiven from our sins so that we can be in fellowship with God now and after we die.
This definition, as many Mennonites understand the Bible, is woefully inadequate and distorts what the various biblical writers are primarily seeking.
In the Old Testament, salvation (or to be saved) means to be rescued from a wide variety of dangers: illness, starvation, slavery, enemies, war, oppression, isolation, depression, poverty, homelessness, suffering, early death, etc. Anything that threatens the well-being of the individual or the community is a threat to salvation. The hoped-for goal of individuals and communities is “shalom”: a Hebrew word that is often translated as “peace” but is better understood as well-being. The Old Testament hopes for and looks forward to a world in which all nations will put down their weapons, violence ends, everyone receives fair justice, everyone has economic security, and all the families of the world are blessed. This is not a vision of heaven; this is the goal for life on earth, the moral and spiritual transformation of all society. How will this happen? When we all “know” God. To know God means to share a moral center (given us by God) in which our self-interest is replaced by a commitment to the common good. When we truly love our neighbor as we love ourselves, we will have a world of wellness and wholeness. And it is Israel’s job to share this moral vision with the world.
So in the Old Testament, to be saved is about this life and it’s about concrete well-being. When we move to the New Testament, this meaning of salvation continues. Jesus’ ministry focuses on bringing good news to the poor, convincing the rich to radically share their resources, breaking down social hierarchies and privileges, replacing isolation and rejection with inclusion and acceptance, loving one’s opponents, being nonviolent, restoring broken relationships, healing the sick, and feeding the hungry. Jesus calls this the dawning of “the kingdom of God.” The kingdom of God is not heaven, it is heaven on earth; it is people, devoted to God’s justice and goodness, working together to create a society of mutual care and healing. By following Jesus, by being loyal to him and following his teachings and example–even to the point of self-giving sacrifice of love–and by making further disciples of Jesus, we bring this healing and wholeness to the world.
But there’s a problem which Paul the apostle identifies; he calls it the power of sin. We all have an inclination toward self-interest and self-worship, and this results in all of our destructive and immoral behavior. Sin has power over us, not only individually, put it also permeates all of our social and political systems as well. How can we break the power of sin? How can we become good-centered (God-centered) like Jesus? Paul says we cannot do this by our own power, but that Jesus’ act of utter faithfulness, utter obedience, utter self-giving love embodied all the way to death on the cross, has the power to break through the power of sin. Jesus’ act of divine love enables us to nail our selfish nature to the cross, replacing self-centeredness with God-centeredness. Now we can become truly righteous–doing what is right and good.
Some people think Paul was saying that giving our loyalty to Jesus is how we’re forgiven, and then we are restored to God’s fellowship. But Paul says very little about forgiveness. He assumes, like most of the Bible assumes, that God’s forgiveness comes by repenting–by being genuinely sorry for our sins, taking responsibility, and renewing our commitment to right action. The problem is not that God can’t forgive us; the problem is that we, on our own, cannot do what is right. Paul wants us to have the power to do right. That is salvation.
By giving our loyalty to Jesus, we are spiritually and morally transformed; and that transformation means that we have entered God’s kingdom–something that begins now on earth and continues after we die.
So salvation isn’t essentially a ticket to heaven based on affirming certain doctrines; salvation means that we and the world around us are in the process of being spiritually and morally transformed by God’s guidance and love; we are becoming well and whole. If we are persisting in destructive attitudes or actions, we are not saved–just the opposite.
This is, of course, only a brief summary of biblical thinking about salvation. But it helps to point us toward a life of loyalty to God’s love, rather than primarily being about believing certain things. Faith means to trust–trust in God’s love and live out God’s love; it does not refer to cognitive beliefs, as important as those also may be.
Today’s post begins a new series: “What Do Mennonites Believe?” There are dozens of different Mennonite groups in the U.S., as well as around the world, but I will focus on the particular group of Mennonites I belong to and know the best: Mennonite Church USA, the largest body of Mennonites in the United States. This blog series is not an official list of doctrines. For that, look up Confession of Faith in a Mennonite Perspective. Rather, these are my own reflections on what makes us unique among Christians.
Let me begin with a simple question: What is a Christian? How should this term be defined? There are many options:
A person who lives in a so-called Christian country and participates fully in its society.
A person who who has undergone baptism (perhaps as an infant).
A person who holds membership in a church.
A person who subscribes to certain key beliefs, such as: Jesus is the Son of God who died for our sins and was raised by God to eternal life.
For Mennonites, none of these definitions is adequate, and some are simply wrong. To be a Christian means to give one’s loyalty to Jesus and follow Jesus. To follow Jesus means to do what Jesus taught: to love one’s neighbor as oneself, to share with those who don’t have enough, to help those who need help, to heal broken relationships, to forgive, to overcome evil with good, to trust God, and to teach others to do the same.
Being a Christian is not an ethnicity, a ritual, a membership, or even a set of propositional beliefs. It is primarily a self-giving commitment lived out in every aspect of life. It is difficult, if not impossible, to do this on our own. So to be a Christian is to do this with other Christians, creating a community of worship, love, and service, creating an alternative society that can guide and encourage one another and bring healing to the larger society.
We use baptism as a public sign that one has chosen loyalty to Jesus and will live this out through a commitment of mutual love, service, and guidance with other followers of Jesus. So we believe baptism is for those old enough to make this choice: generally teenagers and adults. Recognizing that growing in one’s devotion to Jesus often begins with being raised in a Christian home, we also practice infant dedication which is a promise by parents to raise their child in an environment of Christian faith and community.
The internet has made charitable giving a lot more visible and easy to do. All sorts of organizations that do valuable work vie for our attention and financial support. Which ones should we give to, and how much?
Actually, a lot of people don’t give away any money at all: 34% of Americans in 2021. Some of these people simply had no money to give away–they were too poor or out of work, and their living expenses were too high to have anything left over for others. But I suspect that a significant number of people have the means to give away some of their money but choose not to.
For those who do give away some of their money, it may be surprising who they are. For instance, more Millennials give to charity than any other age group: 84%. It may also come as a surprise that those households with income between $40,000 and $50,000 give away a significantly higher percentage of their income than those with incomes between $100,000 and a million: 4% versus 2.5%. I think those who struggle to get by are more aware of the legitimate needs of their neighbors, and so they are more willing to give money to worthy programs. Those in the middle-class are perhaps more removed from the daily needs of others and are more focused on accumulation for themselves and their offspring.
How much should I give away to worthy charities? And to which ones? That depends on our values.
If we believe that the long-term well-being of future generations is just as important as our own survival, then we might be inclined to give substantial amounts to environmental organizations. If we believe that everyone has a right to enough food and basic medical care, then we may give substantially to organizations that provide those services. If we believe everyone needs shelter and warm clothes, then we will likely support efforts to reduce poverty and homelessness. If we believe everyone needs a decent education and employment opportunities, then we will invest in tutoring, scholarships, and job training. If we believe everyone needs to be treated justly and equally, then we may give money to free legal services. If we believe that everyone has a wide range of needs including meaning, purpose, friendship, guidance, forgiveness, and spiritual growth, then we may give generously to the ministries of a faith community we belong to or believe in.
Since there is no end to human need, there is no end to how much we may feel we ought to give away. But we can’t give away everything without then also being in need. So we must decide on some kind of a balance. Here are two possible alternatives:
Live as simply as possible and give away all that is left.
Give away a certain percentage of one’s income, and seek to increase that percentage each year.
The first approach is very hard to do–emotionally as well as practically. Does living as simply as possible mean living in a tent? Not owning a car? Never enjoying entertainment or a cultural experience that has an entry fee? If we believe that all humans have equal value, then it makes ethical sense to live as simply as possible in order to help as many others as possible simply live. It also makes sense ecologically since it is a much more sustainable lifestyle for everyone on the planet. But this approach is so difficult, so hard to define, and potentially leaves out so much of the aesthetics of life, that most do not choose this way.
The second approach is much more straightforward and manageable. We may begin with our current giving and then seek to continue expanding it. It can be combined with the first approach because as we seek to keep expanding our charitable giving, we are also looking for ways we can live more simply and sustainably. Eventually we will probably come to a point where giving away more is no longer possible without sacrificing some things that are too valuable for us to lose. No one can say ahead of time what that point is. Each of us must find it.
Our money is our money–but in another sense, it is not; it is humanity’s. Martin Luther wrote: “If our goods are not available to the community, they are stolen goods.” We are all in this together.
Mass shootings in schools, workplaces, shopping areas, entertainment venues, and public celebrations. Since the pandemic began, mass shootings–and murder in general–has increased significantly in the U.S. Defined by four or more people being shot (excluding the perpetrator), there were 417 mass shootings in 2019, 610 in 2020, 690 in 2021, and 647 last year. Less than one month into 2023, we are on a trajectory for a similar number this year.
Why do some people attempt to kill large numbers of other people? Obviously, the causes are varied, but behind most there is a grievance. A person feels cheated, left out, disrespected, victimized. And what do we do with that grievance? The common human response is to want revenge; and if society isn’t providing revenge for us, then we are tempted to carry it out ourselves.
Vengeance feels good, or at least we fantasize that it does. It feels like justice–the equaling out of the scales of fairness. And because vengeance is a cathartic experience, a release of tension and frustration, we crave it. Which is why Hollywood is so ready to deliver us an endless supply of revenge fantasies. If the bad guy doesn’t die violently in the end, we feel a bit cheated, a bit let down emotionally. I share that feeling fully.
In 2015 Leonardo DiCaprio played an early 19th century frontier explorer, Hugh Glass, in the movie The Revenant. While on an expedition, he is attacked by a grizzly bear and severely mauled. The expedition members, unable to transport him, leave two men behind to wait until Glass dies and then bury him. But the two men put him in a shallow grave while Glass is still alive and abandon him. Surprisingly, Glass recovers sufficiently that he drags himself through the wilderness, through many dangers, until he gets back to a fort and can get his revenge on those who abandoned him. I enjoyed the movie, but I was shocked to discover afterwards that it’s a true story–except Glass did not get revenge. He forgave one of the men because of his youth, and refrained from killing the other man. The true story struck me as more complex, interesting, and profound. But Hollywood knew that revenge makes for more popular entertainment.
Is that why mass killings are on the rise in this country? Is it Hollywood’s fault for nurturing revenge fantasies? Perhaps a little bit. The vast majority of people make a distinction between fiction and reality, although there are always a few troubled, impressionable persons who do not.
Another factor has been the pandemic. The social restrictions, economic disruptions, fears, illnesses and deaths caused by COVID have put everyone a bit more on edge. Just look at how people drive more aggressively these days compared to three years ago, resulting in a higher death toll on our roads.
But I think the primary fault for the rise in grievance and vengeance lies at two other doorsteps: fear-mongering politics, and the huge rise in guns (most alarmingly, assault-style weapons and extended magazine clips).
The MAGA movement (as a whole, not individually) is awash in grievance, conspiracy theories, disinformation, and the belief that Democrats are literally abusing children and destroying the country. A culture of hate and fear is stoked and let loose. Such an atmosphere justifies storming the Capitol for the purpose of overturning the election, targeting certain politicians and election workers with death threats, arming oneself against “the other” and the state, and becoming vigilantes to forcibly address one’s grievances and frustrations. Domestic terrorism is on the rise.
But the MAGA movement isn’t alone in stoking grievance and vengeance–so do some so-called progressive movements. Riots, defacement, destruction, and vilification are excused as justified responses to perceived injustices. American society and all its institutions are judged as intrinsically evil and oppressive.
Factions on both sides are being reactive, further dividing the country, increasing fear and distrust, sowing an us-versus-them mentality and sense of grievance that can too easily manifest itself in an individual deciding to kill classmates, co-workers, immigrants, or strangers.
And then we have guns. Hundreds of millions of them. The fact is, guns make killing–especially mass killing–easier. If troubled persons, intent on murder, had to rely on knives, a lot fewer people would die. Which has to be one of the reasons why the murder rate in the U.S. is so astronomically higher than in other industrialized democracies. The Constitution protects the right to keep and bear arms, so we’re not going to get rid of guns. But we can ban the ones (including the ammunition) that are designed for mass killing.
And there’s one more thing we can do that is most important: foster a culture of mutual listening, understanding, respect, and peacemaking. Who is going to do this? Hollywood is not likely to do this, nor will social media companies or many politicians. Individual entertainers might. But the ones who have an absolute duty to do this are all spiritual leaders of all faith communities. Every priest, pastor, rabbi, imam, and any other faith leader in this country should be actively fostering the attitudes and practices that make for peace and reconciliation. If they aren’t doing this, they are not doing their jobs. They are failing their communities, their nation, and their faith.
The final chapter of Ecclesiastes begins with a poignant description of old age, using a variety of touching metaphors. It is a reminder to those who are young to be thankful to God for the gift of life before the pleasure of life is taken away by the pains and limitations of old age: before eyesight darkens and becomes clouded (v. 2); before legs can no longer stand and one’s few teeth can no longer chew (v. 3); before hearing loss and interrupted sleep takes over (v. 4); before the onset of vulnerability and the loss of virility (v. 5); before death smashes life, one’s corpse disintegrates, and one’s breath goes back to God (vv. 6-7).
For those of us who are now considered seniors, we can testify that aging isn’t for wimps. It is disconcerting to experience year by year the growing pains, limitations, and fragility of one’s body, and to be increasingly aware that death is closing in. The author of Ecclesiastes sees no particular benefit to old age, but here I think he is wrong. The research I’ve read suggests that those in their senior years generally have more satisfying friendships. The pace of life has slowed and allows for more attention to what is meaningful. The traumas of the past tend to soften while the good memories of the past glow more warmly. Seniors typically rank their happiness higher than those in middle age. The task of old age is to accept, trust, and be grateful.
At the end of his soliloquy about old age and death, the Teacher returns, for the final time, to his refrain: Pointless, pointless, all is pointless (v. 8). His rests his case. The book is done.
But it’s not done. Verses 9-14 appear to have been added by later editors who were not satisfied with the bleak meaninglessness of the Teacher’s message. Verses 9-10 assure us that the Teacher truly was a wise man, that he compiled many useful proverbs, that he composed “pleasing words,” and wrote the plain truth. This sounds like an endorsement for a book that otherwise might be too challenging for some readers!
Perhaps another editor then added the comment in verse 11 that wise sayings (such as the book of Ecclesiastes) are meant to guide us, even if they hurt, and that this book has nailed down truths from God–the One Shepherd. This editor judges the book as scripture. Indeed, he seems to be saying no more books are needed (v. 12)! This is the end of the canon. Additional books would simply confuse us.
Then another editor adds one more conclusion. First he says, “Enough–we’re done!” Then he adds a central truth that may not have been clear enough in this book: fear God and keep his commandments–that’s the whole purpose of life (v. 13). Far from life being pointless, God will judge every aspect of our lives (v. 14). I think it is these last two verses that probably made Ecclesiastes qualify as scripture for Judaism (and Christianity). The Jewish community insisted on including a book that wrestles honestly and fearlessly with the unpredictability, injustice, and “vanity” of life. But ultimately, we must still live by faith that God is God and our lives are in God’s hands. That, I think, is the consistent core of the entire Bible’s message. Several authors argue with it, but in the end that’s the conclusion.
I am grateful that Ecclesiastes is in the canon of the Bible. It is a reminder that honest faith includes doubts, frustrations, and unanswerable questions. But at the end of it all, we have to decide whether to live our lives for things we cannot see nor prove–things that are greater than us. Personally, I think the Teacher neglected to recognize the deep satisfaction and meaning we experience when we live–not for ourselves–but for others. Service to others is the purpose of life. This is what saves us and makes us whole. And it is God–the love of God–that inspires us to do this. Trust in God and service to others brings gratitude, and gratitude recognizes it’s all gift.
Now that the Teacher has reached the climax of his teaching (9:7-10), the rest of the book consists of a hodge-podge of other bits of observation and wisdom he wants to share before concluding.
The next thing he has observed about wisdom is that recognition for wisdom may be fleeting or absent altogether. If a wise but poor man saves his village against an invasion by a powerful king, he may well be ignored afterwards. Because he’s poor, he’s considered unimportant and ignorant–even if he saved the town! Wisdom is better than strength, but if wisdom is located in a poor person it is likely to be missed. This is just as true today. Wealthy and powerful people are assumed to be smart (how else did they become wealthy and powerful?), but wealth and power may have nothing to do with wisdom or intelligence. Wealth is most likely the result of financial inheritance and inherited advantages, and power is most likely the result of wealth, connections, and ruthlessness–not wisdom. The poor are as likely to be wise as the rich and powerful–maybe even more so since they aren’t as likely to be blinded by their own arrogance. I’m always mystified and exasperated when movie stars and singers are asked for their insights into life. Why are entertainers assumed to have access to more truth than the rest of us? I see no evidence for it.
Chapter 10 serves up one supposedly wise proverb after another, but they strike me as so obvious as to be tedious, and one of them strikes me as pompous and prejudicial. The Teacher has seen “an evil under the sun”: fools in high position while the rich are in low positions–how dare they! Even worse: slaves riding horseback while princes walk–what’s the world coming to! The Teacher is upset that the caste system sometimes gets overturned. The rich and aristocrats should stay on top and the slaves should remain humbled. This is the very opposite of what is proclaimed by Mary when she finds out she is pregnant with Jesus: “My soul magnifies the Lord … for he has looked with favor on the lowly state of his servant. … He has scattered the proud …. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty” (Luke 1:46-53). Jesus in his teachings and actions often lifts up the poor while criticizing the rich, and in the early church slaves became equals with their masters when they are “in Christ.” The author of Ecclesiastes is a rich, powerful, privileged person, and he reflects the common perceptions of that social class. The New Testament, on the other hand, is written by–or at least about–peasants and servants and day laborers. For the people of the New Testament, a social (not just spiritual) revolution is exactly what the kingdom of God calls for. God wants a world where privilege is eliminated, all receive the same value, and everyone has enough.
Chapter 11 begins with the famous proverb: “Cast your bread upon the waters, for after many days you will find it again.” Bread is a metaphor for one’s wealth or resources. To cast it upon the waters is probably a reference to engaging in trade across the sea. If one does so, one may get it all back in the form of profits. In other words, this verse is urging the reader to take risks with what they have. Life should not be lived entirely in a bubble, nor is it wisest to simply bury what you have to keep it safe. Verse 2-6 are all making this point in one way or another. Yes, risks are risky–no one knows the future or what God may do; but if you’re paralyzed by worry and second-guessing you’ll accomplish nothing. Sow your seed when you can.
The chapter ends by reflecting how much better life is for young people–they are healthy and have so many more years ahead. Enjoy life while you can, but stay aware of the fact that it doesn’t last forever. Ultimately, God judges us. The Teacher does not say on what basis God judges us, or what the consequences of that judgment may be–he doesn’t presume to have such divine knowledge. But the fact that God judges us means that our “pointless” hebel life isn’t quite pointless after all. God expects something from us. There is such a thing as a life well lived.
Biblical Commentary and Contemporary Topics 