Peeing in Jermyn Street
A sermon by David Robert Ord
Dateline Denver: "The leader of a doomsday cult
who predicted the destruction of Denver last weekend has vanished along with
about 50 of his followers." The group, Concerned Christians, "have
sold their belongings and abandoned their homes."
he article adds, "Critics said the group has
transformed itself into an apocalyptic personality cult."
We've been hearing the word apocalypse a lot in recent
years. It's a Greek word that means "opening" or
"revealing," from which we get the title of the book of Revelation.
Apocalyptic writings claim that even though sometimes it doesn't look like it,
there's a plan. If we could just see, we'd realize that God is running
the show.
The Jewish peoples wrote a lot of apocalyptic books.
When Israel was threatened with destruction by the Babylonians over five
hundred years before Jesus, the columnists of the day claimed, "You can't
destroy Jerusalem, unless you want the sun, moon, and stars to stop shining,
and the world to blow up." When their enemies invaded anyway, the pundits
then said, "God will send a divine deliverer and remake the world with
Israel as top dog."
The Babylonians wrote apocalyptic stories that claimed
the same thing. The Enuma Elish dates from long before Israel was ever a
nation. When God made the world, it says, the first thing made was
Babylon and its temple to Marduk. Destroy Babylon and its temple,
neglect Marduk, and the world will end.
The Egyptians were saying the same thing two-thousand
years before Jesus. The proto-apocalypse of Neferti from 1991 BCE, for
example, sounds like the book of Revelation. "Re (the god) must begin by
recreating the land, which is utterly ruined, and nothing remains....
The sun is veiled and will not shine... Enemies have come into being in
the east, Asiatics have come down into Egypt... I will show you the land in
calamity, for what has never happened before has now happened...." But,
the writer assured folk, Re would send a great king to straighten it all out.
Stories about a champion who overcomes the invaders who
have created chaos--represented by eclipses and so forth--and establishes a
new creation, a new order, are common in the ancient world. Insecure people
long for an idealistic world. In such a perfect world there would be no
evil.
As then, so today, apocalyptics see everything as worse
than ever before. The problem is that they have little sense of
historical perspective.
Take crime. "What's the world coming to?" the Jehovah's Witnesses
ask as they show you a copy of Awake magazine featuring crime. They
simply have no idea how incredibly safe our society is today compared with
most societies in the past. Because they aren't aware, such people see
the ominous in the ordinary.
In one of Alan Bennet's works, the character Veronica
observes, "I saw somebody peeing in Jermyn Street the other day. I
thought, is this the end of civilization as we know it? Or is it simply
somebody peeing in Jermyn Street?"
Those expecting Jesus to come back soon see everything
as ominous, including poor Disney, who are being boycotted by the Christian
right. To insecure people, daycares aren't daycares; they're portents of
the end. Russia, the European Common Market, Middle East oil, the
decline of the nuclear family, health insurance for partners of gay people,
liberals in government, floods, droughts and hurricanes are symbols of a
cosmic, spiritual battle for control of the earth.
Whenever a group of people find their ideals are no
longer the dominant values of society, they start talking gloom and doom.
Anything different from my standards is automatically ominious. This is
why fears of the apocalypse began to emerge as America turned from the old
religious values to an ethic of personal freedom. Women gained the vote
and embarked on careers, daycare centers emerged, dad was no longer patriarch
of the family, and churches sanctioned divorce and remarriage.
This fear of people who are different from us is why you find not only the
poor, the downtrodden, and the illiterate believing in the end of the world,
but also successful people.
The founders of Jainism, an apocalyptic movement in the
sixth centure BCE, were from the upper strata of society, the bankers of
India, extremely wealthy. In the twelfth century, Joachim of Fiore began
an apocalyptic movement made up mostly of people who abandoned great wealth.
In the 1450s and 60s, Janko and Irvin of Wirsberg in Europe were rich and
powerful catalysts of an apocalyptic movement. Many wealthy were
involved in the apocalypticism that spread through Florence at the end of the
fifteenth century, led by the famous civic reformer Sovarola.
Rich or poor, powerful or powerless, people are attracted to apocalypticism
when the world no longer seems to fit together the way they think it should.
That's why the French Revolution, which lopped off the heads of those who
normally lopped off heads, triggered a massive apocalyptic movement across the
channel in England.
When their ideals aren't running society, apocalyptics
run from society. Partial or complete escape from the world, cutting
themselves off from those who think differently, has always been a feature of
apocalyptic movements.
In the two centuries leading up to the birth of Jesus,
apocalyptic groups freuently withdrew to the desert to await a new order.
Books like First and Second Enoch, Third Isaiah, and Daniel were products of
these communities. Heaven's Gate took to a comet. Less extreme
versions pull their children out of the system into Christian schools or home
schooling.
As a way of tolerating having to live in society in what they see as the last
days, end-time groups develop a program of action. They try to pioneer
the conditions they believe will characterize the new age. They try to
live it now, in preparation. They see themselves as forerunners of the
new day. Hence the religious right's political agenda. People who
are in a tizzy send their money to televangelists and right wing causes,
thinking they're hastening divine intervention.
The Skoptzi sect in Russia included noblemen, state
officials, and the very rich, all of whom expected an imminent judgment of the
world. Because they believed the new age would be sexless, they
castrated all males--a feature of Heaven's Gate in our time.
Such movements are dangerous not only to themselves but
also to the rest of us because they tend to try to make the apocalypse happen,
cheer it on, provoke it. In Jesus' day, hoping to force God's hand, four
thousand people followed their leader into the desert beyond the river Jordan,
then entered the Promised Land and circled the walls of Jerusalem thinking
they would collapse as in the story of Joshua's conquest of Jericho.
When their apocalyptic dream failed, Rome exacted a terrible price and the
roads were lined with the corpses of the crucified.
End-time groups often work up a program of military
action. Sioux apocalyptic groups wore so-called ghost shirts, which they
believed invulnerable to bullets, and got themselves shot. Sitting Bull,
an apocalyptic, believed God would restore the land to Native Americans and
fought, ending up six-foot under. David Koresh's group armed themselves
at Waco.
Former President Ronald Reagan was fascinated by
apocalyptic sections of the Bible. While governor of California, in 1971
he startled guests at a formal dinner by saying of Ezekiel 38-39, "Gog
must be Russia. It can't be long now." While President, he
commented in a 1983 phone conversation, "I turn back to your ancient
prophets in the Old Testament and the signs foretelling Armageddon.
Believe me, they certainly describe the times we're going through."
When you think Jesus is coming back, you not only might
blow the world up, but you can argue that policies to curb global warming are
hurting the economy. I mean, why conserve the earth when it's about to
be destroyed?
People thought that way in nineteenth century New
Guinea, when an apocalyptic figure named Tokeira predicted a tidal wave would
wipe everyone out. They slaughtered close to four-hundred pigs,
exhausting their reservoirs of wealth. It was an act of faith in the
belief the end had arrived and that God would provide abundant food in the new
era. The right wing behaves like that where the earth's resources are
concerned.
The planet has given us a one-time endowment. Once a species is
extinguished, we know of no power in heaven or on earth that can revive it.
We are extinguishing some ten thousand species a year. Every second of
every day, an acre of rainforest, the most luxurious life system of the entire
planet, is destroyed. That's a rainforest the size of Oklahoma each
year. But if the world is about to end, what's a rainforest matter?
We worry about chemicals causing cancer. That's
the least of our worries. We ought to be worried about them causing the
death of the planet itself. Earth may be resilient, but it is also
finite. From physical assault on the environment to disturbance of the
chemical balance of the ecosphere, we are eliminating the very conditions for
the renewal of life. But that's all right, because Jesus will wave his
magic wand and the desert will blossom like a rose.
When people read in Matthew, Mark, Luke or the book of
Revelation about the sun being turned to blood, the stars falling from heaven,
the entire earth being shaken like a rag doll, the battle of Armageddon, and a
second coming of Christ to usher in new heavens and new earth, they think it
must mean what it says. Well, Alice in Wonderland describes a fantastic
world beneath the ground you and I walk on, but I don't see people tunnelling
down rabbit holes. And when we read George Orwell's Animal Farm, we
don't believe that pigs once talked, do we? Neither did the biblical
authors believe that the sun would be turned to blood and the earth fall
apart. It was a poetic way of writing.
What did Jesus believe? It was Sunday afternoon
and a little boy who was bored kept interrupting his dad, who was trying to
take a nap on the couch. Finally the dad got out a newspaper and,
finding a map of the world, cut it into pieces. "There, don't disturb me
again till you've put that back together," he charged his son.
Twenty minutes later the lad was tugging at his arm.
"You've done it already?" he snapped. "How can you have put all
those countries back together so quickly?"
"It was easy daddy," the boy replied.
"There was a picture of a man on the other side, and when I got him
together, the world was together."
Jesus didn't look for a divine deliverer to straighten
the world out. He believed he was that deliverer--he and all who cared
to join with him in changing things. He realized that the new world
people long for is a matter of seeing with new eyes. When we face up to
our insecurity and begin to believe in ourselves, our perspective alters so
radically that it's as if the old oppressive order has collapsed and the world
is at our feet. The sky is brighter, the grass greener, the roses more
beautiful, the trees more majestic. There are new heavens and a new
earth.
Because the literalists don't read the Bible literally
enough, they don't notice that the New Testament writers evolved in their
thinking. Paul, who at first wrote apocalyptically, in his later
writings stressed that the new heavens and new earth are spiritual.
John, who wrote a quarter century after the fall of Jerusalem, completely
eliminated the apocalyptic passages of Matthew, Mark, and Luke.
In the final analysis, for the writers of the New
Testament the second coming is a resurrection in you and me of the sense that
humanity is sacred, even divine. For them, both the kingdom of God and
the second coming of Christ are an internal, spiritual reality. The
discovery of our sacredness is the dawning of the kingdom. No messiah is
coming to save us. As Jesus realized of himself and all who join with
him in this mission, we are the messiah, and we will either save ourselves or
perish.
Millions look for God to swoop down and save us. But a literalized
apocalypticism is killing us as we ignore problems we need to solve. So
I join Jacques Prevert in praying, "Our Father which art in heaven, Stay
there. And we will stay on earth, Which is sometimes so pretty."
But if we are to stay on earth and keep it pretty, we need a new health
system. The Clintons' vision was far too limited. We need one not
just for all Americans, but for the biosphere itself. Planetary health
is primary, human health is derivative.
The corporation must bow to cooperation.
Competiton must yield to doing collectively what's best for the planet and the
myriad life-forms that derive their existence from it.
But how could that ever happen? With our world of
automobiles, shopping malls, factory farms, chemical plants, concrete jungles,
eroded topsoil, poisoned land, air, and water, we have inserted ourselves so
extensively into the functioning of the ecosystem that we don't know how to
back out of it. Our daily lives depend on it.
It could happen if, instead of buying into doom and
gloom, telling ourselves you can't change human nature, politics will never be
any different, and the world is doomed to self-destruct, we capture the dream
of a new earth and sky that we must bring about.
If the emergence of life in all its brilliance in the
Cenozoic was independent of our influence, it is we alone who can preserve it
in what must become the Ecozoic. No being in heaven or earth will do it
for us.
Wallace Stevens wisely said, "God is in me or else is not at all."
This was the message of Jesus. If there is divinity in the cosmos, it's
already here, in us.
The word apocalypse means opening or revealing.
It's to have our eyes opened. Can we re-envision the world--and
ourselves in our everyday work, play, and relationships--as sacred? Can
we capture Elizabeth Barrett Browning's vision: "Earth's crammed with
heaven, and every common bush afire with God: but only those who see take off
their shoes."
May our eyes be opened, so that we shed apocalyptic literalism and gain an
apocalyptic vision of our world made new.