Of all the weapons that have been used in war, the land mine has proven to be the evilest. In war, guns and bombs might kill more people but they cease their bitter bite when tensions fade, and peace prevails. But the land mine is different. Although they are placed during times of conflict, land mines do not distinguish between peace and war, friend and foe, or civilian and soldier. Of course, this would not matter if mines were only used on battlefronts or were disposed of after conflicts. If only. I often wonder if the creator of land mines could have imagined their weapon would predominantly target civilians, primarily children. See, the greatest strength of land mines is that they deter and subdue. That is why mines are primarily used outside of the battlefield, to dissuade or punish the enemy from using supply roads, camping areas, clearings. The tragedy is soldiers are not the only ones who use those areas.
How cruel and ironic it is that the thing which makes children most precious, their daring, curiosity, and naivety, is what makes them the primary victims of mines during peace times. How can a parent explain that the lush fields, forests, and streams are areas of death, rather than joy? Men made a weapon to harm other men, but in an ironic twist, they devised a weapon that was more lethal to those they fought to protect. What is to be done about the evil in the world? Well, it depends on what you focus on. If you focus on the mines, you will just find rusting explosive containers with pressure plates and a primer, technology that isn’t that different from street light detectors or firework displays.
God made all the materials that go into the trade of death dealing, but neither God nor the tool can be evil, for all that God has made is good. So where is the evil? It lies within the lines of thought that concluded the loss of one could be a gain for another, that God’s creation could be twisted to inflict terror and harm. Humans are the loose factor in this entire equation. Through free will we manufacture good or evil. But again, I ask, what is to be done with the evil? The only answer is great evil must be met with great good. So enters the mine sweeper.
As he dons his boots and pick up his prodder and sweeper, the mine sweeper knows this day could be his last. The hardest part is always feeling like that moment is now, but never fully knowing when. He’s the last remnant of a war that everyone but the locals have forgotten. How could they forget. The villages are full of maimed children and women, living testaments to a war that doesn’t know it’s supposed to be “peace time.” It’s haunting.
There isn’t laughter in the air, and no one dares to venture outside the zones that have been marked as safe. The only sign of hope is that those zones expand after each day of work. No one who laid the mines has ever shown up to help. Why would they? They did their work, and they did it well, too well. So why does the mine sweeper go out every day, knowing that any misstep will be his last? It’s simple. If he doesn’t, evil wins. To stand by and do nothing or move on would mean being complicit in carrying on the violence that his fathers and forefathers brought to the land. And so, every Sunday, the preacher steps up to the pulpit or onto the streets so that future generations might know a text that doesn’t hurt.
I think I am the first to equate the preacher to a mine sweeper, but I am sure I would not be the last. After all, I took this call because I needed better training at navigating mine fields. All throughout my life I have been told of the beauty of the Bible and of church, but when I have opened God’s holy text, I just keep on finding pressure plates primed to claim another victim. It hurts that God’s word hurts so much. I do not hold that against God though, after all, all that is from God is good. It’s the human element that complicates everything. I would argue that the Bible as a mine field is the best metaphor for appreciating and preparing preachers for today’s call, because it would be naïve to say it is a healing text. If you walk down the hall to RSV or pick up a King James Bible, you find humans, not God, have a vested interest in what the Bible says. Right now, we are faced with two millennia of conflict. Christians have literally fought and died to make the Bible say one thing or another, to emphasize or deemphasize points and stories. Each generation has laced this text with mines meant to deter and maim their opponents, but they never accounted for all those who have been harmed in the aftermath.
I think back to last week when a member of my section shared the story of Sodom and Gomorrah. As they retold the story, I the mines go off. I could feel people clutch their wounds and assess the damage. As I heard it, I wondered to myself, “how many of God’s children have been harmed with this story?” How many have learned that God destroyed a people because of sexuality? Now, I apologize if this becomes triggering and I understand if some leave the room, but it must be said that sexuality and sexual assault are not the same. Sexuality is of God, and what God has made is good. To confuse what is good for evil is evil. That is where the mine sweeper steps in. Before a text can regain the sheen of God’s holy word, it must be disarmed. The story of Sodom and Gomorrah is probably the last story anyone wants to reclaim, but I would hope that other preachers and I can at least neutralize it.
To start with, sexual assault is purely a thing of power. And what is more powerful than corrupting the most loving act? To have sexual relations with another, to make love, is something that is undeniably good. After all, to make love, people must fully trust one another, and leave themselves equally vulnerable to what may come from coupling. Since it lacks trust, love, and consent, sexual assault cannot be something of God. Maybe that is why Sodom and Gomorrah got wiped out. I cannot fathom how some Christians have succeeded in making Sodom and Gomorrah a condemnation of homosexuality, especially since their preferred interpretation implies that God is more offended by sexuality than sexual assault. Who would want such a God? I don’t.
If Christians are to preach of a God of love, a God who loved the world so much that they gave their only Son for our sins, how could such a God have a holy text that confuses what is good with what is evil? If we are to still ascribe to the Augustinian belief that God is good and can only be of goodness, then it is the highest heresy to harm God’s people with an interpretation that makes love evil. I don’t know how I feel about God wiping out a city, but the God I worship would only destroy their creation if it had forgotten love and become defined by evil. So maybe this story can eventually be disarmed, but what about the rest? What is this all for? Well, just like in old war zones, we do this for the children and for the survivors.
When a mine sweeper has finished his job, future generations are rarely aware of the work they did. They don’t know the fields they play in and the forests they wander were once scarred places of death and destruction. But that’s the whole point. The mine sweeper took up an unnatural role so that they could restore what was natural. When we were young, I doubt you and I thought we would become mine sweepers, but what else can we be? We have walked through the pews, through the streets of the city, and through the halls of the divinity school. We have seen the harm that has done by the very thing we find to be our anchor, our calling. And that’s why we sweep. That’s why we huddle in the library, trying to rediscover historical contexts, learn languages to translate for ourselves, and craft theologies that risk opposition or violence from those who benefit from evil confused with good. Despite our own traumas and wounds, we come back to a text that has been used to tell women to tell silent, to tell slaves to obey their masters, and to tell non-heterosexuals that they unnatural. We sweep through the thorns of the Bible so that future Christians might believe they are made in God’s image, that they are loved more than they can imagine.
Commentaires