I suppose I prayed.
That is the normal job of clergy at public civic events. We pray.
But it had never been put quite like this before. The local newspaper said, "She represented God at the ceremony."
Our community's old-fashioned "Lincoln's-Second-Inaugural-Reciting Fourth of July Pageant" in the town square, complete with bunting and bugles. Children rode bicycles with red, white, and blue crepe paper woven between the spokes. Babies crawled on homemade quilts. The teenagers wore earphones and, frankly, looked bored, as if on cue. Old women wore straw hats and waved tiny faded flags. One young couple had on their tennis whites and seemed anxious to get on to the courts.
The big flag on the platform blew over in the breeze and hit the speaker smack in the head, which seemed to sort of go along with the somewhat shaky organization of the whole affair. We all gasped. But everything was fine: the microphone squawked and buzzed with static but all went well, as the speaker brushed his forehead and continued the oration ---- and what a stirring oration it is! ---- and the flag got picked up and was held fast and straight up at ninety degrees for the rest of the hour.
And so, with even God having been represented at the ceremony, the little crowd pronounced the event a success. "We must do this again next year."
But that newspaper article got me to thinking and, as we walked along the Lakefront one afternoon, I realized I had never quite thought of myself as "representing God at the ceremony" before.
At the altar, yes. In the pulpit, yes. And even as I walked to the deli for tomato bisque soup and chatted with Dorothy and Margaret. But what had it meant, then, to "represent God?" At the ceremony. I knew the writers, they were just trying to be cute, but it got to me.
My husband pointed out that I had worn a collar, so apparently God likes to appear in public wearing one of those. And our visiting friend, Brad, pointed out that, in my case, "they got the gender right."
Should I perhaps have handed out specially made business cards? "Representing God......Praying in public since 1979."
But what was I doing, representing God at the ceremony? Especially in this country, with its essential First Amendment? Especially on the Fourth of July?
First, I decided that clergy were not required for the position. God can be represented by any of us, theoretically. As a Christian, I would affirm that all the baptized are surely, and most certainly called to bring 'God's creative and redeeming work' to all the world. And 'to let your light so shine before others that they see your good works and give glory to God' --- whom you represent! So no collars required, A candle, perhaps. A hammer, a hotdish. A petition.
In fact, all of us represent God as we move through our daily work. Living out whatever it is that happens to be our primary vocation. Clerk, teacher, mechanic, landscaper, attorney. Whether you are an administrator for the PLO who happens to be a Christian or a United States Senator who also follows Jesus, you/we are called to represent God: to show up! As the hands and feet, as the grace and peace, as the mercy and compassion of God in all that we do, in all that we are.
Whatever we do, whatever tasks we are asked to fulfill, a skydive instructor or a stay-at-home dad, we are called to represent God. To be God, to be as God would be. Whether you are a physician or an engineer, a disc-jockey or a baker. You are called to represent God.
As a soldier, a park ranger, and even if it is not Jesus you follow but the Torah, , you are called to the Torah, to the Law, and the Prophets, "to love the Lord your God with all your heart and mind and soul and strength" ---- and, oh dammit, "your neighbor as yourself."
"To do justice, to love kindness, and walk humbly with your God." (Micah 6:8)
Therein lies the rub. We would rather not always do that. But all the children of Abraham are called to lives of mercy and grace, to lives of representing God. And this is what it means. All of us, not just the ones in robes and fancy hats, not only those wearing collars, not just women, and not only in those times set aside for special attention on God's work.
All work is to be God's work. That is our dignity, that is our purpose, that is our joy. And if it isn't, somehow it needs to be. And we need to give that gift and opportunity to each other, to be able to work.
To create, to contribute, to have an impact, to change the world.
Created, each and every one of us in the divine image: "In God's image, God created them," we are all representing God whether we want to or not. The deal is, to want to. Because that makes it all a hell of a lot more fun! And that helps it to make sense, gives it cohesion, gravitas, a foundation, a center from which to move out.
We are the hands and feet of Jesus, of Yahweh, of G-D, of Allah. It is, put simply, our raison d'etre: to represent God. And for Christians, to be Jesus.
Not that cute and funny 'flat Jesus' who is making the rounds at assemblies and meetings, in airports and cubicles, but the fleshed-out, wounded, sinewy and boney Jesus, the one we know from the Gospels. Who ate and fed, who healed and raised up, who leveled and lifted up, who cast out and invited in, who tossed around thieves and then promised them paradise.
This Jesus. This God. This One. We represent this God. We all need new business cards: "Representing God..... alive since 1954."
And then, I also thought again about the occasion. The Fourth of July. That is a minefield. Especially this year. Some of my friends have confessed, "I don't feel much like celebrating this year." "I'm not particularly proud." "How can we celebrate when so many are locked behind walls and barriers of all kinds?"
Freedom! These words came readily to mind. "For freedom, Christ has set us free. For you were called to freedom." Called to freedom, not just in this 'land of the free and home of the brave,' although it is something we have written into the very fabric of our life together as Americans, and it chafes whenever that is abrogated, ignored, or abused. Called to freedom. We take that seriously around here.
And we should. Because we can.
"For freedom, Christ has set us free."
"But do not use your freedom as an opportunity for self-indulgence."
This does not represent God's apparent and consistent intention for humanity, for the whole creation.
"But through love, become slaves --- servants --- to one another." Uh oh.
"For the whole Law is summed up in a single commandment: 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.'" Big, big uh oh. Really? Seriously? For freedom, we have been called not just to indulge ourselves but to give ourselves, poured out, as mercy, responsibility, on behalf of --- oh geez --- our neighbor.
And we know where that whole 'love your neighbor: who is my neighbor?' thing goes. Jesus made that terribly clear. The Jew is my neighbor. The Muslim. The kook who won't mow his lawn or take care of the weeds growing along the fence. The kids on the bus of immigrants turning in circles in the desert. The crazy old coot who chases away kids who chase rabbits for fun at eventide with their butterfly nets.
Love your neighbor. That neighbor? Yes, that neighbor. Oh, shit. That's hard. I don't really want to.
"Too bad," God says. "Love your neighbor as yourself. And, haha! guess who is your neighbor!"
"If, however, you bite and devour one another, take care that you are not consumed by one another." (All of this from Galatians 5:1-14)
That seems quite clear, in fact. I know what biting is. I know what devouring looks like. Ugly.
We choose to make it fuzzy and complicated. We complicate it so that we don't have to do it. But it is not complicated at all: don't bite and devour one another.
We are skating way too close to the edge of that one, here, on this Fourth of July. We are devouring the poor: their resources, their rights, their own freedom, their futures, their hope. Representing God means to say, STOP doing this.
Tragically, also, we are not just skating close to the edge, but we are pushing each other into the lion's jaws in the Middle East, in Jerusalem, Jesus' city, the Holy City. Even there, at this instant, we are all biting and devouring one another. We are hating.
God is not represented in our devouring. No matter how much we think the other guy (sic) deserves it. It does not represent God, it does not represent Torah, or Prophets, or Jesus.
Stop biting and devouring women and the poor, immigrants, enemies - even ancient ones.
Not at all as complicated as we might like to think.
This day, remember, for freedom, Christ has set you free! For freedom!
Yes, you can do this. Represent God instead. Stop biting, devouring.
And we know that it is even more serious for us, of course, than it was for that World Cup player who got kicked out of the World Cup because he kept biting his opponents. Oh yeah, way more serious indeed!
Stop devouring all the riches, all the power, all the resources for yourself. "Lest you consume one another." That feels like a real (hard) possibility.
We say we have to figure out what all of this means, of course. We say we have to figure out: what does it mean to stop the biting, to stop the devouring of one another. We say we need time, to figure it out, to understand it. But I submit to you this, it is not obscure. It's just not all that hard. We only want to think so.
We are on the hook for this one ---- now!
There will be another celebration one day. God insists upon being represented among us. At Augusta Victoria Hospital, in the Bronx, in Jo'berg and Donetsk, in London and in Mumbai. And in Toad Suck, Arkansas and in Winslow, Arizona (such a fine sight to see), and in Keokuk, Iowa. In your place. In mine.
Loving your neighbor as yourself is going to break out. Like dawn from on high.
And we will ALL be that city. Shining on a hill. A light to the nations.
Yes, Lord have mercy, it will. It can and it will. As we represent God in our daily lives.
And then, sooner than later, we are all called "to represent God at the ceremony." It's just not that hard to figure out. We already know. So do it, already.
We'll even hand out commemorative pens!
And in the end, this: it is just not at all as complicated as we have made it out to be.
