Baptism has become
a tranquilizer, a Xanax for the terrified conscience of humanity. Baptism is a
commodity to be bought and sold like the consumer capitalism that stole our
families. Individuals want to shop for churches and leave churches when they
are upset with something that one part of the body is doing—instead of
remaining in the body and loving the least of these, people flee. They flee to
other churches where faith can be found like a good pair of shoes. The shoes we
find in churches are stilettos, they are uncomfortable, they just look nice,
but they do not serve a real purpose besides sex appeal. Because we have
changed faith into something that is bought and sold like prostitution, like
sex, Baptism and consequently Eucharist has become about power.
Baptism is not for
the individual but instead baptism is for the community. It is a community
affair because once one is baptized the community is responsible for that one.
The community is like Jesus who leaves the flock of 99 and goes out to find the
one lost sheep. The community is the guardian of the baptized—the community is
the keeper of all the brothers and sisters. Baptism is about radical
hospitality. It is about recognizing that one of the community members is
absent and missing and knowing that without that one the whole is not the same.
The community is more than the sum of its parts—each individual is important,
essential, and with all the individuals the whole community is powerful.
Eucharist is also
a community affair—it is a family dinner! The Eucharist, like dinner,
strengthens the body to continue the service to the other. The Eucharist
empowers the community to be one, to be unified, and the Eucharist mobilizes
the community to process, never recess, into the world—to continue the liturgy
in the world. The Eucharist has become about the linens and colored paraments
instead of what is actually in the chalice. Christ, the dirty, sweaty, bleeding
Jesus is in the cup of salvation, which draws the community into faith, into
fraternity, and into love for God and neighbor. Christ says to the community—to
the body of Christ on earth, “this is my body given—FOR YOU and this is my
blood shed—FOR YOU”.
Like Janet Walton
writes in the Dictionary of Feminist
Theologies, the Eucharist is a ritual meal that embodies memory,
imagination, power, encounter, freedom, relationships, presence, and blessing.
She highlights that some feminists think that the Eucharist cannot be redeemed
from its present oppressive form. They believe that it is too married to the
patriarchal structure that it cannot be fully embodied by women. The 16th
century and prior made the Eucharist into a fancy host to be worshipped, but
not eaten. The bread lost its ‘breadness’ and the wine was never shared with
the community—instead it was hoarded for the male priest, the one who was
considered holy enough. The women could not be priests because their
‘womanness’ made their holiness null. Walton calls into question how the
community of Christ might breakdown the walls that gender, class, race, age,
and physical disabilities, etc. have placed as stumbling blocks around the
people. The Eucharist and the liturgy has become an obstacle course for women
to navigate as men sit in the Eucharist and navigate worship like rowing on a
placid lake.
Women have allowed
themselves to have Stockholm syndrome—they have come to love the abuse that
they have endured. Women allow themselves to be complacent and compliant
because that is what they are meant to do. Individuals’ misunderstanding of
Paul have led to the women of times past and present to submit to the idea that
they are less than, but what Paul is really saying and what the church should
be saying is “You are ours! We love all of you from the blood that flows from
you lower lips to the blood that flows from the chalice of Christ’s body to
your beautiful red lips.” The Eucharist tells the story of the church—life,
death, and resurrection of Christ. The Eucharist tells the story of the humans
that eat and drink at the table. People bring their messes to the table and are
sanctified and made whole.
Women and others
who have been silenced throughout history are called upon in Post Colonial
thought to engage the Eucharist in new ways. Like Walton
expresses, the Eucharist is festive yet mournful. It expresses the resurrection
of Christ but it allows us to recognize that we are still on the cross awaiting
our bride to save us from our oppressed existences.
In the ELCA’s
document, “Means of Grace” it outlines many aspects of the liturgy. Baptism and
Holy Communion are both emphasized, but even the suggestions that the ELCA puts
fourth are not the lived reality. The ELCA writes, “Water is used generously”
but often the reality is that there are a few drops placed on the head of the
baptizee and are immediately wiped off. The water creates a mess that must be
contained because humanity has taken the mess out of God. God cannot be dirty,
God cannot be seen as sweaty or wet, God must be secured in a host because if
God gets out something incredible might happen. The document also states, “Holy
Communion is celebrated weekly.” This is the reality in some places but in many
places it is rarely celebrated because individuals are scared that the Eucharist
will not mean as much (sacrality) if
it is celebrated too often. Many individuals still have an ex opere operanto view of Eucharist while others keep the
sacraments and faith at arms length.
Given his notorious history, there was question about how people would treat his death. In case you don’t know, Fred Phelps was the founder of West Boro Baptist Church—a small, radical group of folks who targeted various events around the country to spread a message of, quite literally, hate. They’re most known for carrying picketing signs at the funerals of soldiers which read such ignominious things as “God hates fags,” “God hates America,” and “Thank God for dead soldiers”—to name just a few of their many slogans.
In my very, very small hometown, we had the misfortune of having the West Boro Baptist Church come and protest the funeral of a man who had died after having fought in Iraq. It caused quite a stir among the community, and people from all walks of life agreed that protesting the funeral of a fallen soldier, no matter on what grounds, was despicable.
But what do we as good, loving Christians make of the death of Fred Phelps? Two particular readings from Scripture come to mind for me as we might seek to come to a faithful answer to that question:
