Friday, May 04, 2007

On Eagle's Wings


Two of my favorite modern Christian songs are sung by th artiste Josh Groban. One of the is titled” On Eagle's Wings” and another is titled” You lift me up”. Both these songs have lifted up my spirits on many a depressing day. The old prophet Isiah's lines promising that "they shall mount up with wings like eagles" (v. 31) are so memorable.... Sorting through my various memories I remembered first a time when I sat on top of a cliff and watched a motionless raven riding an unseen wind, occasionally folding up his wings and dropping breathlessly before extending them again to soar. Then I thought of a time when I took a s short holiday in Goa , watching seabirds get waddling starts before a breeze would lift them gently above my head.


Finally I considered a family of sparrows that once nested outside my window of my 8th floor office in Delhi's Nehru Place, occasionally breaking into the silence of my room with a salutary song. None of these light and dreamy images worked with me, however. Not this week.
As a pacifist, I have struggled a great deal with my own feelings about the violent turns being taken in our country , some more graphic than others. One illustration that I recently read about and that horrified me was the thought of Phulpur in Uttar Pradesh that once returned Jawaharlal Nehru to Parliament , now being represented by a mafia don. . Sometimes I am quite guilty of reading the morning newspaper and taking it to heart, making it personal. As i read all that i do , I also sad realize that I have very little power to counter the ominous movements around me. Some times, I feel tired and angry and sad and confused, I walk on the frightening border of hopelessness at times.


So some airy notions of birds taking flight are sometimes hard to embrace as I feel more the albatross of cynicism growing heavier around my neck, worrying less about my own ability to fly and fretting more honestly that I might instead just sink like a stone. And in a rather uncommon way as I read Josh Groban's songs based on Isaiah , I felt that someone from a very long time ago was saying something to me, pleading desperately that I not lose heart. All I can say is that I want very much to hear those words and to believe in them.


The words that seem to be speaking so deeply are drawn from Isaiah 40, an entire chapter that is made of the dialog between hope and doubt before it ends on a note that asks us each to remain engaged in the struggle. It was written ages ago to a people that had been living in exile and, during that time, found themselves in the tension between their own hopes and doubts, the promises of their faith and the sad social context in which they lived. This is the audience that the author of Isaiah 40 is addressing, and it is to a tired and skeptical people that he offers his word. Some of his chapters intended to comfort a weary people by reminding them of an old vision and singing of a new empowerment. There are some hopeful words here, if not any easy words, and perhaps that is why they can still speak as strongly in the present as they did in that long ago past. So to an exiled people the prophet begins to speak or maybe even to anybody who has ever felt like a wanderer, caught in the troubles of this world and its sorrows, feeling the bitterness between what we dream and what we have got.


It seems to me that the prophet knows the feeling all too well, because his opening lines, which read very much like poetry, acknowledge under their surface that things are not yet as they should be. "A voice cries out," he writes, "In the wilderness prepare the way, make straight in the desert a highway [so] every valley shall be lifted up, and every mountain and hill be made low; the uneven ground shall become level, and the rough places a plain." (v. 3-4) The voice crying out is really the voice of the old writer, who is beginning to offer an image of a time just around some corner when things might be transformed. While the author understands that the current context is oftentimes a painful one, he wants to say and so he does say that the future is open. Using his words to invite us into this beautiful vision, the author paints what is uncertain in the colors of a thousand possibilities.


Unafraid to voice his dreams the prophet writes, "Then the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together," (v. 5) which is another way of saying that the manifestation of the divine shall be everywhere and the love of God shall be shared by everyone. This is a very beautiful sentiment and, as it imagines what the world might become, it is directed rather pointedly at everyone who has, for one reason or another, stopped imagining their own hopes for the future. The Book of Isaiah has perhaps the highest hopes of all, for its pages tell that lions and lambs could one day find rest together, swords might be refashioned into ploughshares, and hospitality shall be shown to the stranger and the outcast.


And the comfort that the prophet means to offer here can be found in the universality of his statement. Not only will the people wither and fade but so will the nations and the rulers, all who act oppressively on the earth and live in violence towards it, they¹ll go too, for they are no more than "dust on the scales" (v. 15). While this may strike some as the most morbid form of encouragement, the old writer is trying to affirm that there is something more transcendent than the power structures currently in place and the systems that seem to surround us. While surely we are participants in those systems, the prophet wants to remind us that we might also become participants in something much greater, something that he would call a divine purpose. Because what won¹t fade, the old book tells, is the very word from God.


And it is that word that has always issued an invitation for us to make justice and love through our living, in the hope that we are joining in something sacred as we do it. Isaiah 40 goes on to tell of the wonder of the divine, conjuring up majestic images of God, but throughout it is still possible to hear that there is a dispirited audience listening in. It seems to me that the writer never really loses sight of this, since he concludes his magnificent descriptions by saying rather plainly that God "does not faint or grow weary." (v. 28) At the end of it the prophet will say something like, "Every one of you is tired, I know.


But maybe one day we¹ll reach the end of all our waiting, maybe one day we¹ll see that our efforts have made at least a part of this dream into reality. And maybe on a day like that we really might feel light as eagles carried by the wind¹s current. Who knows?" So as Isiah understands and acknowledges the reservations of his hearers, he still speaks strongly against the cynicism of inaction and asks us each to take the risks of responding in faith. Perhaps the aforementioned eagles might serve as an interesting example. In our lives we may not always be able to soar gracefully but we can take the first small steps and leave the nest to trust in what cannot always be seen but can be hoped in and worked for and maybe even lived out if we feel as risky as the young bird who paces and yearns for the sky.

Thursday, May 03, 2007

Advocating for Dalit Christians



The term 'Dalit' has come to mean things or persons who are cut, split, broken or torn asunder, scattered or crushed and destroyed. By coincidence, there is in Hebrew a root 'dal' meaning low, weak, poor. In the Bible, different forms of this term have been used to describe people who have been reduced to nothingness or helplessness. However, the present usage of the term Dalit goes back to the nineteenth century, when a Marathi social reformer and revolutionary, Mahatma Jyotirao Phule (1826-1890), used it to describe the outcastes and untouchables as the oppressed and the broken victims of our caste-ridden society. Dalit communities are those who are oppressed by the caste system in India. They account for about 16% of the total population; they are discriminated against for being polluting or untouchable and are relegated to performing occupations such as leather tanning, scavenging, weaving, and fishing, professions that are considered defiling and polluting and are largely understood to have their origins in the Chaturvarna system of Indian social classification sanctioned by the Hindu law giver Manu. However, Dalits are outside the pale of the caste system and its defined social and occupational hierarchy.


Among 30 million Christians, at least twenty millions are considered to be Dalits. Most of them live in extreme poverty and desperation. A survey undertaken by Jesuits in Tamil Nadu revealed that 79.6% of the Dalit Christians are landless, that their illiteracy rate is 65%, and that their average annual income is no more than 25 dollars. The Christian community in India also is too are divided into a number of castes with the previously Brahmin castes at the top and untouchables at the bottom. Though Christianity also does not recognize caste system, there are upper and lower caste among Christians. In Goa, for example, there are upper caste Catholic Brahmins who do not marry Christians belonging to the lower castes. In many churches, the low caste Christians have to sit apart from the high caste Christians. In Andhra Pradesh, there are Christian Dalit, Christian Malas, Christian Reddys, Christian Kammas, etc. In Tamil Nadu, converts to Christianity form Scheduled Castes - Latin Catholics, Christian Shanars, and Christian Gramani are in the list of Scheduled Castes. Such instances are many and vary from region to region.
Logically, the term ‘Dalit Christians’ is self-contradictory. How can a person be a ‘Dalit’ when he is a Christian; for Christianity does not recognize the caste system which is an evil prevalent only in the Hindu society? When a person gets converted, he is no longer a Hindu and thus does not fall into any category of the caste hierarchy. But unfortunately, in India we do have this category of people who got converted to Christianity in the vain hope of leading a respectable life. Conversion to Christianity has only added to the misery of the Dalits. Many Dalit Christian leaders refer to the twice-alienated situation of the Dalit Christians in India, namely, discrimination within the Church and discrimination by the State as they are denied Scheduled Caste status in the Constitution, and the related privileges which come with that status.
This is because the external forms of untouchability and their practice still exist among Christians, within the Church, in the graveyard, in the festivals, in marriage alliances, etc. The most unfortunate thing is that the caste Christians, practicing these inhuman acts are often supported by their own caste-priests and nuns, who even encourage them to attack Dalit Christians. That is the main reason for caste-practice continuing in the Church.


The same rules of Hindu caste system govern them, and they are known by their caste names --- Christian Nayars, Christian Paraya etc. Hardly any lower castes are allowed to be appointed as priest. Untouchables have separate graveyards and churches. So entrenched is the system that if a Christian upper caste cannot find a suitable caste Christian to marry, then a Hindu of the same caste will be selected rather than another Christian of lower caste.


The Dalits who converted to Christianity possibly gained a new sense of self-respect, but the gains were wiped out by the fact that upper caste Christians from whose ranks their religious superiors come still treated them as untouchables. There have been recorded instances of priests refusing to enter the houses of their Dalit congregation; the mission schools have separate arrangements for Dalits and other castes. In some Protestant churches, there were separate cups for the Dalits at the Eucharistic celebration. In the Catholic churches, there were separate communion rails, nor did their relationship with Hindu castes change in any way. So, many Dalit Christians have either started new churches themselves or reconverted back to Hinduism.


Little did they know that conversion to Christianity would not redeem them from social discrimination and untouchability, because though Jesus never advocated the caste system, Christianity in India was not free from the caste bias. Christian outfits which criticized Hinduism for its caste system, practiced discrimination based on castes in their Churches. In spite of the fact that around 75% of the Christians are ‘Dalits’ who got converted to Christianity to lose their caste or ‘outcaste’ tag, Dalit Christians within the Church were discriminated against and were denied powers within the ecclesiastical structure.


Today, the Dalit movement is a growing movement both within and outside the church, working for the liberation of Dalits from caste oppression — stigma, discrimination — political, economic, social, and religious. Dalit theology is an emerging discipline that is taking shape against much resistance both from both the dominant groups and from some Dalits themselves, who are still conscious of their status as Dalits and the social ramifications of embracing their Dalit identity. The situation Christian Dalits face is even more oppressive, as the general miserable living conditions characterizing the situation of Dalits are compounded by the denial of affirmative action by the state. Those who become Christians today usually cannot hope for material rewards.


One of the reasons for this is the fact that church development co-operation does not distinguish between Christians and non-Christians. Instead Christians must rather expect to be penalized; they lose their entitlement to state support in the form of allowances for school fees, grants, the right to jobs in public service etc. Actually this situation has recently led to quite a few Dalit Christians giving up their Christian faith because of their miserable living conditions, hoping to improve them through state support. On top of this enormous pressure is being exerted on Christians by Hindu groups and massive re-conversion campaigns waged among Dalits and Adivasis, - „indigenous peoples", as Indian tribal people nowadays call themselves. These campaigns often do not differ at all from „forced conversions" and otherwise bear all the hallmarks of what Christian mission is accused of.


The truth behind the debate becomes even more evident if one bears in mind that the conversions of those sections of the population who are discriminated against and marginalized in many respects is not a phenomenon exclusive to Christian mission. Attention must be drawn, above all, to the attitude of Dr. B. R. Ambedkar, who - an „Untouchable" himself - rose to the position of a spokesman for the „Untouchables" in the thirties and later as an architect of the Indian Constitution and India’s first Minister of Justice did a lot to promote the Dalits. Unlike Gandhi, who tried to improve the living conditions of the Harijans mainly by appealing to the higher caste Hindus and quite often showed a paternalistic attitude towards the Harijans, Ambedkar held the view that the Dalits must speak for and fight to achieve justice for themselves. For him the issue of „Untouchability" was inextricably linked with Hinduism itself, which he rejected as his religious home as early as 1936. As the caste system and „Untouchability" were connected with Hinduism for him and he saw no possibility of achieving justice within the Hinduistic system, he converted to Buddhism in 1956 in a dramatic act along with hundreds of thousands of his followers. Conversion had thus become a form of social and political protest.


Because the state policy of affirmative action has been unable to overcome discrimination against Dalits to the present day, the living conditions of many of them are now worse than they used to be, and above all because their stigmatization as „Untouchables" persists, the ideas of Ambedkar have received renewed attention over the past two decades and have become the ideological ferment of a broad social movement for the emancipation of Dalits and the cultural self-assertion of the Adivasis, the Indian indigenous people. The fact that the Church today - not least of all due to Dalit theology which is aimed at liberating the Dalits - is part of this social movement is what is really behind the controversies over conversions. It challenges the Indian social system, which insists on privileges based on caste hierarchies, and champions another model of society. Even as agitations go on against the prevailing attitude of the government towards the Dalit Christians it is important to note that it is not as though the problems of Dalit Christians have not received attention from the government. Several commissions appointed by the government have referred to the disabilities Dalits suffered in Christian society.


Kaka Kalelkar, chairman of the Backward Classes Commission of 1955, said, “We discovered with deep pain and sorrow that untouchability did obtain in the extreme south among Indian Christians, and Indian Christians were prepared in many places to assert that they were still guided by caste, not only in the matter of untouchability, but in social hierarchy of high and low. While the Harijans among the Hindus, classified as scheduled castes, stand a fair chance of bettering their condition under the Indian government’s reservation policy, their Christian counterparts stand twice discriminated.”


Two more reports that came a decade later found that the status of Dalits in the Christian society remained the same as it was in 1955 when the Kalelkar Commission was appointed. First, the Chidambaram Committee report of 1975 said, “Casteism is practiced widely among the members of the Christian fold as judged by the characteristic of the caste system and going by the economic status of the Harijan Christians. It is evident that they are poverty-stricken lot.” The infamous Mandal Commission report conceded the reality of caste among Indian Christians as in any other community. The commission cited the example of the Christian community in Kerala, which, according to its report, is not only divided into various denominations on the basis of beliefs and rituals but also into various ethnic groups on the basis of their caste background.


The emerging Dalit and liberation theologies are today propelling significant sections within the Indian Church towards the path of radical social activism by challenging structures of oppression—religious, cultural, economic and political. Contemporary Dalit and liberation theologians see Jesus himself as a revolutionary, a central concern of whose mission was to oppose the hegemony of the ruling establishment and to crusade for a radically new social order. This new commitment to a socially engaged, radical Christianity is today inspiring many Christian priests, more so Catholics than Protestants, to engage themselves in the struggles of the poor, particularly the Dalits and the tribals.


Even as we lobby for reservation in government jobs and educational institutions for our Dalit brethren, there is a lot of house cleaning that needs to be done in the church itself.
A good question to ponder is how well represented are the Dalits in the leadership of the churches and other Christian institutions. Even as we vociferously argue for reservations, there is a need to evaluate the institutionalized caste system amidst our own establishments. There is also the fact that apart from overt instances of separate pews, graveyards and such external manifestations, often there exists a much more subtle, overt separation – in terms of insulting and patronizing attitudes. We should be asking that as even as we point fingers at the state, are we within the church also stained with the same blood of violating the fundamental rights of the Dalit Christians, not just as citizens of secular India but also as citizens of the Kingdom of God, where there is no Jew and no Greek, no free and no slave. The apostle Paul said “a good while ago, God chose among us many who heard the gospel and believed. God, who knows the heart, acknowledged them by giving them the Holy Spirit, just as He did to us. He made no distinction between us and them, purifying their hearts by faith. Therefore, why do you test God by putting a yoke on the neck of the Dalits who came to the Christian fold?


The test of adequacy of service or of a servant leader is this: Do those who are served grow as persons, become wiser, just, and more likely themselves to become servants? Jesus’ disciples became better people in every conceivable way after they met him and committed themselves as servants for the transformation of the world. The effectiveness of churches’ programmes of liberation and justice should be assessed on the basis of resultant transformation among the Dalits. The humiliation and crucifixion of Jesus was a degrading and cruel event. Those who were crucified were labeled as God-forsaken or cursed by God. But God "exalted" Jesus, gave him the name above all names, Lord, and made every knee to bend, in acknowledgment of his lordship and acceptance of the new norms of the new community. Hope was given the oppressed that victory would follow humiliation and God’s glory would ultimately prevail and transform the world


The lure and oppressive bid for power, which ultimately oppression is all about leads us to deal with sin in our lives. We have sinned against God by making our human distinctions. It’s time for us to repent and to confess our sin to the one, true and living God who revealed Himself in creation to all and in a very special way through His Word, the Bible and His Son the Lord Jesus Christ. Every human being is important as God gave His Son, out of love, for man. The Bible says: “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.” (John 3:16).


Because Jesus emptied himself, God has exalted him (Phil. 2:9), made him sit at the right hand of God the Father. The ascended Lord is not resting but is involved in a struggle to put down all his enemies under his foot. The exalted Lord inspires us in our struggle. Christians are not to compromise with evils that alienate and exclude others, such as casteism, racism, sexism, etc. It will be a poor state of affairs if our witness through our lives and relationships is in no way better than the witnesses given by those who practice and perpetrate these demonic structures and cultures.


So to stress again, Christianity does not preach inequality in any form and caste distinctions are anathema to the Bible and its teachings. “There is no distinction between Jew and Greek, for the same Lord over all is rich to call upon Him (Romans 10: 12).” If you show favoritism, you sin and are convicted by the law as law breakers (Jas 2:9). Paul clearly taught that differential treatment against those of a different economic or social background should be avoided at all costs in our churches. Instead, he tells us in Romans 12:3,” Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment.” Every one of us has been bought with grace through the shed blood of Christ. Partiality in the church indicates the loss of saving grace. God does not want us to base our judgment on the criteria of the world.


How can we forget that the word of God urges us to love others by accepting them as they are and seeing them as individuals for whom Christ gave His life? We are not to judge others or look down on them. Preferring the rich to the poor, or the higher caste to the lower caste, is a terrible sin, for Christ became poor that we might be rich in Him. When a former low caste person comes into the Christian congregation, he is to be received in love and shown just as much grace as a former high caste person. The man of the world may look on outward appearance and the circumstances of our birth, but God sees the heart and we should do the same. By refusing to receive those who in our imagination are beneath us because of their ancestry, we are dishonoring the Lord and the ones who He loves.


A Christian’s identity is in Christ – not in his past. All of us are complete in Christ. Consequently , caste can have no place in the church of god. The name of our loving , creator God and Lord is blasphemed when we continue with our caste prejudices within the church. How He must grieve when he sees set aside His commandment to love and think of us more highly than we ought to, and follow the rest of society in dehumanizing those whom He has created.
We live in a time when the world has recognized the Biblical principle that all human beings are created equal and must be treated with respect. This principle has even been incorporated into our laws and is consequently a right capable of being protected by the force of law. When we break the law, as we do when we practice discrimination against former Dalits, we invite legal action and incur God’s wrath. Our churches should learn from history and the trends of society and stop perpetuating a shameful legacy.


It is unfortunate that casteisn has crept into Indian Christianity and thrived. This belies the gospel. It should have no place in churches. The “Dalit” meaning broken, people of our country have been subjected to cruelty and disrespect for centuries. Our task as the church should be to rub salve and not salt , into the many lives, wounded by the cruelties of caste that have come to Christ. We must help them forget their past as “Dalits”. We need to remember and help each other to remember who we all, without exception are in Christ. Even as we stand shoulder to shoulder with our Dalit brothers and sisters in their fight for their legal rights, our ultimate aim should be to take the phrase ”Dalit Christians”, out of the nation’s political vocabulary. In god’s kingdom, we are all his children. We should endeavor to make this equality a mark of the church as well. May we be known for our love, as Jesus desired and not for upholding time worn prejudices.


Thus far we have not taken seriously the words and example of our Lord Jesus Christ who, when he came to earth and walked the villages, the Bible says: “When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. (Matthew 9:36). Where is our compassion? Let us follow the model and the mandate of Jesus who described his Spirit-anointing for mission with the words:” “The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” (Luke 4:18-19). Are the Dalits not the poor, the prisoners and the oppressed of our day? The very term: “Dalits, means oppressed.” Why have we waited so long? Now is the time, now is the opportunity. Let us come together as one to ask the God of the universe to free the oppressed. Is this not what Jesus, our Master, would do? Christian mission -- however it is understood and whatever form it may take -- must not adopt the ideology of the colonialists, as the Hindu nationalists have done. It will be most true to its Lord by proclaiming the gospel confidently, but in a way that respects the human right to be religiously different

The cross at the core of our faith



Many of us come to church from time to time wondering really if God really exists -- and if God does exist, does he, she, it really care about us and about this world of ours. When we learn of some utterly senseless human event through our newspapers or the television, do we wonder if God is really good, if love in this creation does bear the last word? Or do we live in the shadow of some relationship, broken, grieved, a wound we just cannot seem to shake? Indeed, when we come to church, do we ask the question deep down, does anybody -- anyone -- really give damn? For me? For this world? And if they really knew me, could they possibly love me?
Those kinds of questions plagued the members of that church of the Hebrews week after week, year after year as they gathered for worship and service. The promises of God seemed down the drain. As time went on, and as they looked out on and experienced an unfriendly and largely uncharitable world, increasing numbers of them concluded: God is dead; Divine love is a hoax; hope is no more than wishful thinking. And their church began to disband.


"Hold it!" pleads our author to the Hebrews. "Wait a second! There is something you have to remember in this troubled world. Before you give up, before you let cynicism rule the roost, before you go away spiritually fatigued, religiously abandoned - listen to this!" And in those verses we read a moment ago, our preacher tells us the cross of Jesus Christ provides the decisive clue to resolving the doubts dogging us. Here, at the cross of Christ, writes our preacher, "through the offering of the body of church once and for all" we see joined and aimed at us like a laser beam the core of our faith, the shape of our love, the power of our hope.


The cross? The core of our faith, you say? How so? And just what is the core of our faith? O friends, listen: in face of wars and rumors of war; in face of a troubled, often heartless, merciless, dog-eat-dog world, in face of cancer, AIDS, the senseless slaughter of children by children; in face of our living precariously with the misunderstandings and self-deception, malice and conflict souring our lives together; in face of a world where our best intentions get turned inside-out, upside-down and used against us, where our boldest and most generous dreams can collapse and inflict injury; in face of cold, unheeding forces so often swirling about us, we confess our faith in a God who, through all life can dish out, loves us, hangs on to us and will never let us go.


Now that is our faith. And faith -- faith! -- It is. In many ways the observable, the objective facts of our lives deny a God who loves, refute a God who is good, and dismiss a God who gives a single whit for us. Indeed, the bare fact of the cross of Jesus itself denies a loving God. If ever we see a place where mercy fails, where human and divine abandonment evidence themselves; if ever there exists an occasion where goodness loses, where innocence gets trampled, where the worst human beings can do to one another happens, it happens at the cross. For anyone to say, in face of the hard, cold facts of the cross, that we are loved by the creator of the universe is an act of faith -- a decision for trusting love at the heart of the universe when the facts belie it.


So why, then, why is this our faith? What do we see here at the cross of Christ enabling us to trust in a loving and gracious God when much in the world says "no" to this conviction? Listen carefully: at the cross of Christ we confess the lengths to which Love will go to restore wholeness to those for whom Love feels most tenderly. We confess here the risk Love takes when it seeks its wandering, lost, cantankerous, yea rebellious children -- when it seeks us. In the cross of Christ we encounter, and are ourselves embraced by, Divine grace itself risking death to restore a broken relationship, to heal a gaping wound, to weave together again a harmony so that our scrapping, tangling fighting human race might become, in truth, a family of God.


We know that love does not calculate the cost when it goes after someone. You know love is a spendthrift in pursuit of those it will not give up. We know the pain, the anger, the humiliation involved when someone betrays us, slander us, misread our motives, walk out on you, and turn your heaven into hell. What can restore the relationship? What can straighten things out? What can make for healing? Revenge? Are you kidding? Revenge brings satisfaction, sometimes a smug narcissistic glee, but healing? Never. Is it requital? Will that bind a broken relationship? It surely makes for a quid pro quo and maybe something that passes for justice -- but healing? No way! What brings healing we can only describe as grace, as forgiveness: The risk love takes, though it may be battered and bruised, the risk for reconciliation claiming everything we have -- a reaching out that can be difficult and very painful.

Some of us, perhaps, know a mother, a father, a spouse who walked with us through some wounding, grievous, shameful episode. We know they passed through it as if they owned it. We sensed they cried "No," grasped for our shirttails, dug in their heels, yet, knowing the worst, trudged almost step by step with us to the very gates of the hell we prepared for ourselves and virtually camped outside, broken-hearted and grieving until we came out. They put themselves in our place; they stood in our shoes, they accepted they shared; they bore the shame we engendered. They forgave us -- but tears wore furrows in their cheeks and inside hearts bled wildly in our behalf. This is forgiveness. It always includes self offering; it evokes identification with the other. Those who give forgiveness give themselves. Love is ready to pay whatever personal cost to bridge the gulf, to heal the wound.

So here at the cross we trust God's love. But more: like that early Hebrew congregation we need desperately to be claimed by hope; to know, as our preacher puts it, the one we trust "sits at the right hand of God," and over time, "his enemies will be made a footstool for his feet." And just as this cross invites our faith, and bears God's love, so here at the foot of the cross, in this most hopeless situation, Hope is most powerfully at work.

How could this be? How does the cross provide hope in this world where hope seems so precarious -- hope in this bloodiest of centuries -- a label haunting us even as we meet here this morning? How does the cross proclaim hope in a world where we see children murdered in their own school yards, enlisted for genocidal Rwandan assaults, wasting away in inner city tenements taking their own lives; indeed, hope, where tragedy riddles much of our existence and death terminates it? Is there any hope? Is there truly a new future for us?

As we look at the cross of Christ, we see in the cross our hope. This vast cross hanging before us is empty. As powerful a reminder as the crucifix may be of our faith in the costly love of God, this empty cross, hanging here in the heart of our nave, confronts us with power taking the worst we can do to one another -- indeed, power taking death itself and forging through it a new creation. I cannot explain it to you, I can only testify to this enthralling paradox: but an empty cross means that the power -- the power of God -- lies not in preventing hopeless situations; it means the power of God lies not in preventing the likes of crucifixion, not in intervening to stop the Darfur tragedies, the unending tragedies, senseless perversities and utter stupidities in this world. Our hope lies not in some cheap cinematic miracle. Hardly.

The ground of our hope can be seen in the empty cross as it points to the power of God in taking the body of the crucified Christ and transforming it into new being. There we see power alive and at work amid the most desperate situation, bearing with us, submitting to the worst; yet while participating with us in what may appear hopeless, working to bring triumph out of tragedy, promise out of peril, life out of death. Our hope can be seen in the empty cross because there, uniquely in our history, amid what appears to be the door slammed on the future -- there we witness the future most radically opened up. A radical choice confronts us. Again, God, that they can be nailed to wooden beams and still win! -- wiped out and they will come back! -- buried, only to break death itself wide open." In a bloody cross: Hope? By God, yes! And so we ask again: Are you looking for God? In a troubled and frequently sorrowing world, do you wonder if God is really good, if love does indeed bear the last word, if anyone finally cares about you -- us?