“As you prepare for battle, the priest shall come forward to address the army gathered before him, saying: Hear O Israel, today you are going to battle against your enemies. Do not be fainthearted or afraid, for the Lord God will go before you to give you victory.” (Deut. 20:1-4)

This verse from the Old Testament is the earliest in depicting the clergy’s role of spiritual support in preparing military personnel for armed conflict. Further, the priesthood has always been an indispensable part of the battlefield landscape, as demonstrated by the fact that Abraham, Melchizedek, Moses, and Joshua, as well as King David himself, all fought wars with a priest by their side. While serving as religious advocates as well as spiritual intercessors, both tradition and history agree that the chaplaincy has played a significant role in regard to the military from its very beginning, with clergy not only having a central role during times of conflict, but in times of peace as well.

The term chaplain, as applied to military clergy, did not come into widespread use until sometime during the fourth century, when Martin of Tours offered his cloak to a roadside beggar, only to see that same cloak later worn by Jesus in a dream he had. From that time onward the religious cloak, or stole, if you will, not only signified a call to selfless service, but an object of veneration in its own right. Accordingly, the cappa, as it was then called, taken from the French word for Chapel, or Chappele, lead to the priest being called a Chappelain, or chaplain. During the Council of Ratisbon in 742 AD, and due to primarily to the advocacy of St. Boniface, the role of the chaplaincy in the military was formally established. And while Boniface was adamant that the servant of God should in every respect be prohibited from bearing arms, ordained clergy were still considered part of the military unit and therefore required to participate in all aspects of military training as a matter of course, while serving through deployment whenever the need arose. Providing for religious services, as well as the customary sacraments, benedictions and confessions, chaplains were also authorized to met out the proper penance as a means of maintaining the mental health and spiritual wellness of fellow combatants.  

Yet in contrast, during the American colonial period, it would have been nearly impossible to contextualize the Revolutionary War apart from the presence and influence of religious clergy. In fact, it was seen as a virtual necessity for the fact that clergy were required to serve in a double capacity, both fighting and preaching, as the very freedoms they were fighting for could only be won through armed conflict and help from an Almighty God. This was deemed critically important, as General Washington himself recognized. The spiritual need of assigning chaplains to individual regiments may have been essential, but the compounding effect of its practical application among the enlisted was even more so. The fact being that most of the clergy had grown up on the frontier, with a flintlock in one hand and a hatchet in the other; defending their farms and families throughout the week, while preaching to their respective congregations on the Sabbath. 

While “freedom of religion” continues to be a hallmark of American democracy, it remains especially true within the ranks of the US Military. The fact that they were the first to standardize the chaplaincy led to them operating under the same historical onus or calling, with many serving in deployment, or at the least wishing to do so. And although a chaplain remains a representative of his particular denomination, his singular forte continues to be “the ministry of presence.” Standing alongside those in the enlisted ranks, while enduring the same hardships, the role of a chaplain is a calling of the relational rather than the sacramental. And due to his being “in the trenches” so to speak, it can result in an uncommon camaraderie, with the chaplain serving as spiritual advisor and intercessor, as well as a confessor. As a matter of course then, confidentially becomes a sacrament in its own right, one that is earned while defending, providing the chaplain with a rather unique perspective, a vested-interest in the continuing spiritual welfare of his fellow compatriots.

And with that in mind, it many be worth revisiting the non-combatant status of chaplains within the US military today, as situations can often arise in combat where one may be justified in taking a life, “to save a life.” And regardless of the fact that his non-combatant status may serve a political role in “winning hearts and minds” in theater, it may do little in regard to unit cohesiveness and even less for mutual trust–”I got your six!” In addition, this dual role of chaplains can also reveal a conflict of interest, as political expediency is often counterintuitive when it comes to just cause and moral accountability. The question then arises, how can a chaplain, as a spiritual representative, be asked to stand aside at a time of mortal crisis, couching his council in deference to political expediency, while deigning to defend the lives of his own companions? 

While most Christian religious expressions readily acknowledge the prohibition for taking a a human life, there is an interpretative precedent within the Torah called pikuach nefesh, or “saving a life.” This concept, as referenced in (Lev. 8:5), reads: “You shall keep My laws and My rules, by the pursuit of which man shall live,” not die! as Rabbi Akiva observed. It follows then that “Whoever saves a life is considered to have saved the entire world.” (Sanhedrin 37e) In the same token, “If it is clear that observance to a mitzvah will spell certain death for others, then clearly in that instance God would not want us to fulfill that particular law…. Violating a mitzvah, when not doing so could mean certain death for others, is therefore no longer an option, but a duty.” (Rabbi Benjamin Biech)    

Interestingly, this issue has become central to the debate going on within the military chaplaincy today. And, although there must come a point in the development of humanity where spiritual and temporal perspectives align, we are not there yet. And while both can be seen as essential to social development and the continued existence of the human species itself, the dictates of human experience argue that until such a complementary convergence arises, conflict will only increase, and exponentially, due to the net effect of globalization, technology and AI. Yet, in spite of that or because of it, chaplains increasingly find themselves at a crossroads of conscience, arguing on behalf of the spiritual, while forced to grapple with the exigencies of life and death. A dilemma which begs the question, as the apostle said: “Where does war come from if not from the battle that rages within, which in turn is driven by our own competing lusts…?” (James 4:1)   

“And the angel said to me, take the scroll and eat it; in your mouth it will be as sweet as honey, but in your stomach as bitter as gall.” (Rev. 10:9)

In The Matrix, the main character is offered a choice between a red pill or blue pill. “If you take the blue pill you can continue to believe whatever you want, but your fate is sealed forever.” Too much to swallow? Not if you’ve already developed a taste for it! On the other hand, “if you take the red pill, and awaken to the implications of your false assumptions, you’ll need a deliverer.” As Jesus said:“For judgment I have come into the world, that the blind might see and that those who see might be made blind.” (Jn. 9:39) An oxymoron perhaps, but not for those who are perishing, while believing they’ve got it figured out. The cross therefore not only symbolizes the crux of the matter, but an intersection between heaven and earth, with salvation an open door into another dimension. Yet, hidden in plain sight as it were, it can represent an almost insurmountable obstacle for those focused solely on self. As God said: “I will destroy the wisdom of the wise, and the intelligence of the intelligent I will frustrate.” (1 Cor. 1:18)

While Jesus preached a gospel of salvation and deliverance for those who could receive it, the gift of salvation can be a bitter pill. And even while “a little sugar makes the medicine go down, once taken it begins to purge one’s soul, and with it the gradual realization of one’s predicament in extricating themselves from the delusion that physical existence is the center of gravity. Even as the Lord said: “The hour is coming when you will be scattered.” (Jn. 16:32) You may have heard that term applied to someone that isn’t grounded, and its applicable in this instance, as Christian theologist, Oswald Chamber’s offered, “scattered according to our own best interests (Silly crowns!), interests that were never found in Christ himself.” (Chambers)

Have we slept, while Jesus wept? Have we forgotten the reason for his meritorious sacrifice, that we might “go out unto the world, making disciples of all nations, teaching them everything I have commanded you?” (Mat. 28: 19-20) Are we acting like those who were called to a life of service on behalf of a spiritual kingdom, or have we become religious? As the apostle said: “For the gospel did not come to you in word only, but in power, and in the Holy Spirit…, (1 Thes. 1:5) enabling you to do those very things you might not do otherwise. The truth is that until Christ is made central in your life, until he is made Metropolitan in the sanctuary of your souls a vacancy yet remains, one that is easily back- filled by Satan .  

And so this is where we find ourselves. Those who might have done much, did little, preferring to leave the mercantile business of kingdom building to the pastoral office. Believers remained seated, while Christ has been peering over the parapet of heaven, restless and impatient with those overly confident in their own salvation, but at what cost. And as a consequence, a dearth of discipleship has resulted in a drought of spirituality. Offering anarchists and antichrists alike an open invitation to set the world on fire–because we didn’t! Yet truth be told, it can be a rather complicated process, this fire-starting, as gathering dry kindling is only the first step; you need a spark to create a flame, and the wind of the Holy Spirit to make a conflagration.

While the kingdom of grace commands we love one another, the world requires an altogether different fealty, an indemnity of servitude to a dead-end cause. And while many get the picture, the vast majority still get in line. Without further delay then, let the dirge begin. See the faithful as they file forward to kneel, with heads bowed and outstretched hands to receive, the sacramental offering–a little kindling for the funeral pyre and some kerosene for good measure. And as they chant death to faith, the interlocutor of Wokeness steps forward to offer the final benediction. “And when he painted the number on their heads with his brush, it was just like a priest anointing their brow.” (Dostoevsky)

“Though one may be overpowered, and two defend themselves, a three-strand cord is not easily broken.” (Eccl. 4:12)

While readers might argue about the various threads in these blogs, the pattern of their weaving serves to suggest “that where two or more are gathered together in My name, there I will be also.” (Mat. 18:20) That through our mutual faith and the assistance of the Holy Spirit we will be able to make a significant difference during the times ahead.

While many may argue that my Indigenous predisposition introduces a certain bias regarding the past and prophetic future of America, recent archeological discoveries and Indigenous oral traditions agree that the peopling of the Americas was accomplished by a post-Flood remnant population, which migrated to the Americas seeking refuge, a place to rebuild, and the fulfillment of a vision. And, although scripture confirms that the biblical Flood occurred as a direct result of the universal and irredeemable moral depravity of the human race at that time, it also speaks of a family of survivors, Noah and his sons, whose descendants dispersed globally, becoming the progenitors of humanity today. And yet, while Indigenous traditions within the Americas refer to the flood event, they also carry a cautionary note not to repeat the mistakes of the past. Unfortunately we have and are now on the cusp of “the fourth turning.”

And so America! A nation of comprised of the combined remnants of Indigenous and later European immigrants, interwoven into the tapestry of Indigenous genetics and religious cosmologies of The New World. And through a spirit of adoption and a process of adaptation, this nation’s identity and prophetic future became entwined with that of Native America’. And, although becoming a place of refuge for countless millions from around the world and a democratic singularly among nations, its citizens have departed from that august beginning. Yet the Native people themselves haven’t forgotten that high calling, and it isn’t as if they haven’t warned us. Return to the fold as emissaries of a living God or simply pass into the dust of history like those before them.

Although there have been revolutions and revivals from the beginning of time, none have yet resulted in a utopian transformation. And while the monotheistic faiths provided the model for Western civilization, their religious codification lacked the necessary spiritual reproductive capacity. And as the word itself suggests, revolution tends to be not only circular in motion, sweeping along the debris of history to form some future assemblage, but destructive at the outset. And while revival itself can be defined in terms of a spiritual rebirth, political struggle connotes to simply that of social progress. And while the recurring theme of “cry freedom” may well serve as the initial motivation of both, it will forever remain a Faustian proposition if it attempts to proceed without a spiritual foundation. Consequently, if we are to initiate the truly revolutionary revolution that humanity longs for, we must first address the one thing that we are loath to consider, the tyranny of our own soul and its role as our spiritual jailer.

   

“…to open their eyes, that they may turn from darkness to the light; that they might be delivered from the power of Satan to God, so that they may receive forgiveness of sins, and a place among those who have been sanctified by faith.” (Acts 26:18)

As the world seems to be descending into an unprecedented time of chaos and change, remember that with God there is “no shade or turning,” remaining the same today as yesterday. Yet, in reflecting upon the here-and-now as individual believers and “our place in the world to come,” we might do well to dwell less on our externalization of scripture and focus instead upon our personal internalization of what the apostle Paul meant by, “putting on the mind of Christ.”

The Christian sacrament of baptism is symbolic of a lot more than just a public acknowledgement of our personal repentance and acceptance of the salvific grace of Christ. True baptism constitutes an effectual cleansing that makes room for the Holy Spirit. Although our initial conversion signals a change of conscience regarding our place in the world, it also intuits a corresponding transformation of the heart, mind, and soul in congress with the Holy Spirit. And, while there is a direct correlation between forgiveness and remorse, grace is not a panacea for continuing addiction. It remains a matter of choice then whether we are to die in our addictions, our spiritual ignorance,, or live by the light of Christ, a process which intuits a liberal application of will.

Yet, altering our spiritual perception of ourselves and others is no easy task, as even believing Christians often mistake the simple act of repentance as the promised transformation. To be clear, “Conversion is not regeneration!” While the message of the Gospel can be instrumental in transmuting darkness into light, that is only the beginning of a process whereby we become emmisaries of that light. Although a requisite belief in God and an acknowledgement of the incarnation and meritous sacrifice of His son Jesus is fundamental to the alchemy of spiritual transformation, it is something we must work out for ourselves in agreement with and through the activity of the Holy Spirit.

The call of salvation then is to become acquainted with that activity of faith which promotes the actualization of holiness, “…that through these promises we might become partakers of the divine nature, having escaped the corrupting influences of the world.” (2 Pet. 1:4) Simply put, acknowledging Christ as the architect of our salvation is not the same as having received something personal and eternal from him. In the same token, we can’t expect to become partakers of his nature if we continue to drink from the fount of worldly corruption–“…for as many of you who have been baptized into Christ, the same have put on Christ.” (Gal. 3:27) The proof of salvation then is not found in baptismal certificates, pledges of faith, or in corporate repetitions of foundational beliefs, but only in confirmation of the fact “that we have been brought to the place where we are able to receive something directly from God.” (Chambers) That place is our own Golgotha, a place of crucifixion that results in a spiritual resurrection into the life and ministry of Jesus. That then is the evidence of our testimony of what God has done for us and through us, that the “hope that is in us might become the hope that they pray for,”…a living inheritance among those who are being sanctified.” (Acts 20:32)     

America is not so much a country as it is a promise left unfulfilled, a Terra incognito of unrealized potential. A promise that not only transcends the prospect of a totalitarian conceptualization, but the very idea of a government compromised by corporate interests. Fortunately, we don’t have to look far to find the bedrock of western civilization. It lies right beneath our feet in the indigenous history of this great land. Extending from east to west, from the Arctic to Terra de Fuego, the Indigenous peoples of the Americas, throughout their ancient and convoluted histories, have continued in their acknowledgment of Creator, which is itself the cornerstone of Western civilization.

While Indigenous peoples are commonly classified as a minority throughout their geographical distribution, their communal orientation and religious rationale outweighs contemporary perspectives of socialization. And for that reason they continue to pose a potential threat to repressive regimes, as they fall outside schemas of control. Parallels can then be drawn between their ongoing resistance to colonial and that of first century Christians in their response to the Roman state. The point being, that the promise of Christmas and a risen supernatural savior resonates more with the oppressed than it does with the privileged. And seen from that perspective, the true story of Christmas is one of misunderstanding, denial, abandonment, condemnation, and inevitable crucifixion of the son of God. As a noteworthy casualty of the conspiratorial alliance between the Jewish religious elite, the Roman state, and a compliant populace, the story of Christ becomes not only the story of Indigenous America, but the story of America itself, whose political and religious critics and revolutionaries have often found themselves at odds with the status quo, either at the point of a gun, or on the end of a rope.

Even as “the Romans killed Jesus for being an insurrectionist, revolutionary leader, and political threat to the state, they feared the radicalism of the message he preached even more. And they were right to fear it.” (Mr. Fish / Truthdig) While the Christian gospel may stand alone as the preeminent manifesto of resistance to anything contrary to the will of God, the corpus of its radicalism would be denied, distorted, and muted by religious institutions throughout history. And it was those same institutions who utilized biblical authority to promote their own agendas, which included genocide as a legitimate tool for colonial expansion. But to put these failings in their proper perspective, noted theologian Paul Tillich reminds us that “all institutions, including the church, are inherently demonic.” That being the case, what does it say for the followers of Christ, who are called to not only resist evil, but to destroy the works of the devil. And in view of the fact that we haven’t, how then can we argue with Mr. Fish’s criticism, which I paraphrase: “America is in terminal decline; its mortal delusion festooned by moral decadence. Enveloped by evil, while bowing the knee to Baal, the monstrosity of its mendacity and greed have few equals. Severed from its humanity, it demands sacrifices, even as it parades around a plastic Jesus to remind us all of the centrality of Christmas. Yet faith demands that we smash the idols of consumptive religiosity. Nothing is easy about dying to ourselves and to the world; it requires self-sacrifice and a revolutionary spirit to see ourselves through the eyes of the other. Faith demands that we become as the salt of the earth, because if we don’t we will become like the wretched of the earth, truly acquainted with the suffering of others. And, at that point we will be left with no other choice but to act on behalf of others, as they have now become ourselves.”

While Tillich may have been right in his negative appraisal of human institutions, it goes without saying that governance, as a component of human social organization, is a necessary evil. And, therein lies the problem, as it is the individual within any social organization that will ultimately determine the course of its action. And, as our political failings are only symptomatic of a deeper societal dissonance, it remains “we the people” that are ultimately responsible for either rectifying the situation or remaining complicit in perpetuating collective misery at the expense of constructive change.

“Life without war is impossible, either in nature, or in grace.” (Oswald Chambers)

For the saint as well as the soldier, the spiritual and physical disciplines are much the same, in that both must be brought under submission and redirected toward a specific purpose. For those called to the monkish order as warriors, discipline becomes our master, and necessarily so, as we have to rise to the task of determining what’s best and good within ourselves before we can go about defending what’s best in the world. While the natural man is like a tempest in a teacup, the warrior-monk engages in being intentional in everything he does. Realizing that unity between the mind, body and soul is not an inherent capacity, but an acquired trait, the warrior disciplines the will in bringing everything under submission to a higher purpose. And through focus, whether in physical training, mental conditioning or spiritual discipline, he subordinates his very existence to the dictates of his will and the lordship of Christ, so that the light within becomes the lamp that illumines the world. Yet simply put, we must understand that transformation is not a once-and-done proposition.– “…The one thing we object to is the continuing process of conversion required in order to maintain the necessary relationship between the natural and the spiritual.” (Chambers) And, although we may serve as emissaries of peace, we prepare ourselves as if for war, because whether it’s in the natural or in the supernatural, the world is at war and…”there will be blood!”

While the cross of Christ testifies to the cost, it also presents a proposition. – Are we actually willing to follow Jesus? As the path ahead is not for the faint of heart, as it requires an uncompromising attitude. And, while as believers we often conflate the cross we bear with the sin we carry, we’re implicitly told to “lay it down.” “The natural life is not spiritual, and it can only be made spiritual through struggle in the natural.” (Chambers) As we begin to sort it out, discarding everything that runs counter to our calling, we neither have the luxury to indulge a weak constitution nor an indefinite convalescence. We must pull ourselves up by the bootstraps, “…disciplining our body and bringing it into subjection, so as to have…absolute governance over the temple of the Holy Spirit.” (Chambers) And, although the gospel is considered canon, the scriptures also speak volumes about the ascendance of our spiritual reality over that of our existential reality. Get a grip on it! And while your at it, realize that its not the natural man that’s meant to run the race, but the spiritual man.

Although it’s written: “…that without faith it is impossible to please God,” (Heb. 11:6), it is not found in edifices that simply attest to the fact, nor a convenient label for professing Christian. Faith itself arises apart from any religious context, in direct response to the call of God. — “Who shall I send, and who will go for us…? (Is. 6:8) The question itself demands a response. – God speaking, whose listening? If you don’t have the faith of God, you will never respond. It follows then that spiritual discipleship is all about equipping those who will respond to the call. While trepidation is understandable, a conviction of the heart is a requirement. And much like entering a spiritual boot-camp, discipleship is not intended to give you more information, but to instruct a believer on how to persevere, and in the end, prevail. If perseverance is the collateral for virtue, faith then becomes the currency of the kingdom. Our recurring deposit not only places us in the company of angels, but delivers compound interest. In the final analysis, “the real battle is either won or lost in the secret places of the heart and will, before God, and not in the external world.” (Chambers) Yet, whether the battle takes a day or an eternity, its duration and eventual outcome is entirely dependent upon a warrior’s resolve to secure a decisive point. – Who will reign – Christ in us or the enemy of our soul?

“The boat…the boat! Who’s gonna carry the boat?” (Goggins 2022)

Christianity is not a cruise-ship with infinite ports of call, but a boat-load of believers rowing for the distant shore. But how can we ever get the boat to water when there are few willing to carry it? Soldier on you stout-hearted, but try as you may, without the discipline and training, that boat will never reach open water. The believer asks “...Who then can be saved?” The Lord responds by saying: “Strive to enter in by the narrow way. Yet, although many will try, few will be able.” (Lk. 13:23) And, it is that salvific qualifier which objectifies a problem worth unpacking.

“No one can receive the Christ who justifies, without receiving the Christ who makes holy.” (Reeves 2020) For the Christ who gave himself for us, is the same Christ that gives himself to us, that through the instruction of grace we might become holy even as he is holy. Yet in spite of the fact, many have misapprehended grace as consummate with salvation alone. An obvious problem, as Pastor Dietrich Bonhoeffer noted: identifying as the primary reason for the Jewish Holocaust during the time of the German Reich. Christians who could have done something, did nothing, believing that judgement (of the Jews) was of the Lord, while grace or “unmerited favor” absolved them from any personal responsibility. Yet, as Jonathon Edward’s once said: “The hypocritical Christian is the one who desires the gift of God, but not God himself.” (Religious Affections 1746) To put it plainly, if we believe that our place at the banquet table of Christ has already been reserved, we become like heavenly draft-dodgers, unwilling to do the training; while we wait for Manna. Consequently, a Christian who seeks the reward of salvation apart from a reasonable sacrifice for a eternal relationship with Christ is the one who is “missing the boat!” Accordingly, most believers are nothing more than floaters, treading water in a sea of grace until they inevitably tire and drown. And, while the church may serve as a communal life-raft of sorts, without someone to portage, oars simply become a useless appendage for a ship of fools.

And this in fact is precisely the point, while the American Evangelicalism has roots which stretch back to this nation’s early frontier days, even as it eclipses nearly every other denomination in terms of growth, it remains open to criticism when it comes to a lack of emphasis on the requirements of faith. A fact that becomes even more apparent in its more modern iteration, which could be described as simply “cloud computing” at the cost of a “pilgrim’s progress.” Emphasizing forgiveness without repentance, spiritual development without discipleship, and salvation without cost, without the cross itself, can be characterized as nothing more than to a consumer Christianity.

Delving into that, if a Christian doesn’t understand who God is then every other foundational construct begins to fall apart. Many still remain confused about the biblical distinction concerning Jesus the Christ and God the Father, while the first commandment in the Old Testament makes the distinction abundantly clear, “Hear O Israel, the Lord your God is one.” (Deut. 6:4) Yet, in spite of the fact, and repeated assertions by Jesus himself, his relationship to our heavenly Father is made clear, as he said: “Our Father who art in heaven…” (Lk. 11:2) And again, “…If you loved me you would rejoice that I am going to the Father, because the Father is greater than I.” (Jn. 14:28) And in addition, “…how God, the Father, anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and with power, so that he went about doing good and healing all that were oppressed by the devil, for God was with him.” (Acts 10:38). This is what early Christians believed, and the Apostles preached: “That Jesus didn’t appear to everyone after the resurrection, but only to those of us who ate with him after he had been raised from the dead. In fact, we were the ones chosen by God to be Christ’s witnesses, even as he commanded us.–Preach to the people, testifying to them that I am the one ordained by God to be judge of the living, as well as the dead.” (Acts 10:41-43)

The prevailing emphasis on salvation, as something to be acquired without further investment is a misnomer, a fact which scripture itself attests to. “I am crucified with Christ, Accordingly,the life I now live, I live through Christ, the Son of God, the one who redeemed me.” (Gal. 2:20) This simple exposition then begs the question, “If we are saved by grace alone, what further demand remains for holiness?” (Reeves, 2020) In many respects, the undue emphasis on original sin and salvation by grace not only serves to incapacitate the will to “go, and sin no more,” but becomes a crutch to keep the lame limping. In that regard, it’s then worth noting that it was not the act of disobedience itself, but our forebears willful disposition to put their own self-interest ahead of God’s own interest in their essential purpose that led them to sin. And, while the baptism of Jesus in the River Jordan speaks volumes about repentance, his recurring admonitions to “go and sin no more” speak more about free-will than the activity of grace. The essential problem then is one of a solicitous faith, the result of portraying salvation as a “free gift,” or once-and-done confessional act, without the necessity of discipleship or that of accountability, without which salvation simply becomes an exercise in futility, in turn serving to undermine our initial investment in eternity.

In the final analysis then, it would seem to be implausible to talk about boats without also referring to ballast, which in itself is both figuratively, as well as scripturally connotes to a rock. “For no one can lay any other foundation except that which has already been laid, which is Jesus Christ.” (1 Cor. 3:11) And, regarding that foundation, he he said: “…The one that comes to me and hears my words and then acts upon them, is like a man who builds his house on solid rock. Yet, the one who hears my words, and does not act upon them, is like someone who builds a house without a foundation, and is then swept away as soon as the river rises.” (Lk. 6:47-49) Again, “For the stone that the builders rejected has become the chief cornerstone,” (1 Pet. 2:7) even as we, “as living stones, are being built into a spiritual house, a holy priesthood.” (1 Pet. 2:4)

Although the resurrection of Jesus is considered by many to be the turning point in human history, if it hadn’t been for the sacrificial work ethic of those whose lives were changed by his, the profitable results of that turn of events may never have happened, making the atonement itself somewhat moot. While the cross was his, it’s cost continues to pay dividends for those who would invest in it. And even though it could be argued that we’re all in the same boat, it’s only for those who will row that will make it to open water.

“Then the angel showed me a river, as pure and clear as crystal, and it went out from the throne of God, and of the Lamb, and on each side of the river, in the middle of the city thereof, was a Tree of Life, whose leaves were for the healing of the nations.” (Rev. 22:2).

In reading the above text, we may notice that there is not one, but two trees, one on either side of the river. While both have leaves, symbolizing spiritual food “for the healing of the nations,” they can also be said to represent two separate covenants, the Noahic for the Gentile nations, and the Judaic for God’s chosen people, Israel. Even so, the river that flows through the midst of the city could be said to represent “a better and lasting covenant,” one which is parcel to both Christian and Jewish dispensations, but superior, as it is founded upon faith, apart from any religious conveyance. And as the prophet said: “Wherever the river flows there is life.” (Ezk. 47: 1-23)

Yet, its been written that “…faith without works is dead!” (Js. 2:20) To clarify, the author then adds: “Show me your faith without works, and I will show you my faith through works.” (Js. 2: 19) Although Jame’s exposition can be seen as countering Gentile Christian criticism that Jewish Christians were “works-driven,” James argues that in both cases, while the issue of faith is central to the equation, it is our response to faith that is in question, as one is productive, while the other is not. For further illustration, the river that issues forth from the throne of God and flows through the city serves not only as a good analogy for the respective covenants in question, but the issue of faith itself. Put another way, the river of life is also symbolic as a habitat for fish, which either sink or swim, and like salmon returning upriver to spawn, they either swim against the current, or give up and float downstream like any dead fish.

“The earliest Christology is the highest Christology” (Habermas 2022)

In reading the Synoptic Gospels we find that the authors, Matthew, Mark, and Luke, while each putting their own spin on the story, rely on a collection of source materials, or “Jesus Sayings” from which these gospels are derived. This “Q Document,” or Quelle in French, is believed to have been in circulation well in advance of the Gospels themselves, possibly as early as 35 AD. And, having already formed the corpus of the first century church, they served, in addition to the Jewish Torah, Talmud and Mishna, as a set of “first principles” for Christianity to build upon. And while the initial trajectory of the early Church was altered to some extent by the introduction of Pauline theology, and later politicization of the church under Constantine, the development of both Roman Catholicism and Eastern Orthodoxy remained virtually unchained, with both existing as co-communicants until The Great Schism in 1054 CE and the Protestant Reformation in the 16th century.

But with the publishing of the Wycliffe Bible in 1384, the posting of Martin Luther’s Ninety-Five Thesis in 1517 and the Vulgate translation by Jerome into the German vernacular, as well as its subsequent dissemination to the public via the Gutenberg printing press, the death-knell of Catholic preeminence was assured. And now, with the public having at their disposal the means whereby much of Catholic teaching was invalidated, set about consolidating their newly won spiritual independence through the Protestant Reformation. And by virtue of the fact that scripture was now viewed as literally authoritative (sola scriptura), Christianity itself made an abrupt u-turn, seeking to reclaim what little remained of its lost heritage in the early first century Church. With an emphasis on salvation by faith, grace and repentance, piety then became the hallmark of many independent, reformist expressions, who not only had a high regard for righteousness, but placed a particular emphasis on evangelism. As a result, these “New Lights” as they were called, effected a marked increase in Christian conversion. To the extent that it not only threatened the dominance of the Catholic Church, but The Church of England in its historical power-sharing relationship with the state. As a result, Protestants came under increasing scrutiny, with adherents forced to either uproot, while moving from place-to-place throughout Europe, or abandon the endeavor entirely by embarking for the America’s to avoid persecution and criminal punishment.

Ultimately sacrificing nearly everything they owned to finance their voyage and settlement in the New World, their respective denominations were already well-established in various enclaves by the early 1700’s. And yet, while Puritanism is considered representative of that classical form of piety in America, the initial emphasis on sanctification, simplicity, and mutual support that was so common among Protestant denominations at the time, ultimately gave way to internal divisions and fracturing over scriptural interpretation, religious polity and the effects of secular relativism that was becoming so prevalent at that time. Interestingly, the stage was now set for what would become The First Great Awakening. Beginning in the early 1720’s, Christian evangelists, such as Jonathon Edwards and George Whitfield, traveled throughout the Colonies preaching to anyone who would listen. But, as the onlookers began to increase so too did the conversions, many times accompanied by extraordinary and heretofore unseen supernatural manifestations of the Holy Spirit.

Yet it seemed that no sooner did the movement begin to subside than another appeared. Beginning sometime toward the end of the 18th century, just prior to the start of the Revolutionary War, this Second Great Awakening proved to be even more dramatic than the first. Led by a number of self-styled Bible-thumpers, with little or no theological training, notables, such as lawyer turned preacher Grandison Finney, attracted here-to-fore unheard mass-appeal. And much like Elijah calling down fire from heaven, Finney’s exhortations were such that incredible displays of supernatural power have been recorded, with personal accounts claiming that they saw “… crowds mowed down like cornrows.” Accordingly, any lingering doubt as to God’s intervention in human affairs was soon replaced by a reverential fear of personal judgement. “Saving grace” became not only a synonym for spiritual regeneration, but a door opening wide into “non-ordinary” reality.

As the colonial frontier moved further west, so to did the advance of Christianity, with pioneers often finding themselves either at war with Indians or making peace with them. Yet unbeknownst to most, a spiritual renewal movement had appeared in Indian Country and was gaining momentum. Whether it occurred independently or was the result of earlier efforts by evangelists such as the Puritan preacher, John Elliot, Indian Praying Towns, like that of Natick Massachusetts, were becoming an increasingly common feature of the Northeastern Woodlands, particularly in the wake of King Phillips War (1678). Yet to be clear, the Indigenous response to the gospel message seems to have been predicated upon an altogether different set of circumstances than that of their colonial counterparts. The rapid and alarming decline of Native people due to the associated effects of warfare, disease, and displacement, precipitated a disintegration of Native culture itself. Which in turn led to what anthropologists would later call a “Crisis Cult,” a supernatural last-ditch effort to rationalize and accommodate nearly incomprehensible tragedy and change. Accordingly, a spiritual renaissance began to take shape, one which would not only alter the religious landscape of Indian America, but the frontier of America itself. And, although it had definitive elements of Indigenous organization and expression, Indian proximity and interaction with frontier settlements led to a Christianized cross-pollination of sorts, combining both Indian and Christian spiritual beliefs. And, as many of these early outposts were, for all intents and purposes, racially integrated, they also served to lift the anthropocentric, self-righteous fog that had enveloped many of the earlier Protestant denominations.

Interestingly, as the Indigenous expression was inherently more down-to-earth and accommodating than that of the Christian colonial prototype, it soon became apparent to the frontier faithful that self-reliance, cooperative defense and Christian fundamentalism were not only more realistic, but inherently more beneficial. As a result, a new form of Christianity began to emerge, one that was essentially home-grown. While its foundational belief structure remained intact, it gradually evolved to become more Indian in expression than European. With camp meetings, communal dancing, memorial feasts and a nearly universal acceptance, through shared experience, of dreams, portents, prophecies and signs. In tun, it served to validate, as well as encapsulate the mythos and power of the first-century Church. But perhaps more notably, it was further characterized by corporate “sings,” with lyrics composed of personal testimonials, while accompanied by fiddle and banjo. This in turn became the forerunner of “Appalachian Blue Grass,” Southern Gospel, and eventually the genre we know today as Praise and Worship music.

The seeds of Protestant Christianity had penetrated deep into the native soil of Colonial America, germinating to produce an independent hybrid expression, one which recovered much of the mystery and dynamism lost during Christianity’s long evolution. With its own unique characteristics, frontier Christianity was not only a reflection of its natural surroundings, but the intercultural symbiosis which took place prior to later patterns of settlement and urbanization occurring during the 19th century. Although the Indigenous contribution remains evident even today, Evangelical Christianity as we now know it, evolved to evidence a latent amnesia concerning its original genesis and the Indian contribution to what would later become the largest and fastest growing denomination in America.

And yet, even as that earlier chapter of American religious innovation was coming to a close, another was in the offing. Protestant evangelistic Christianity, due to its nascent development and expansionist tendencies, began to develop a political-religious rationale for unlimited expansion. “Manifest Destiny,” as it came to be known, became the ideological justification, not only for territorial expansion, but unilateral exploitation, not only of lands, but Indigenous peoples who had called it home for millennia. Yet in doing so it was not without some serious resistance. Although the eastern tribes themselves had resisted, in the end it proved futile, as did their syncretic attempts at cultural accommodation. The tribes of the Western Plains and Inter-mountain regions of the West were birds of an altogether different feather, proving more warlike and intractable than that of any so far encountered. Consequently, “The Indian Wars” were not only hotly contested, but became prolonged engagements, often fought in terrain where the Indian had a decided advantage. So much so, that the names of warriors like Geronimo (Apache), Quanna Parker (Comanche), Set’ank (Kiowa), Red Cloud, Crazy Horse and Sitting Bull (Lakota), as well as others, including Chief Joseph of the Nez Perce, not only entered the American vernacular, but historical American institutions like West Point, where Indian war-fighting continues to be studied even to this day.

While US treaty obligations were fluid in interpretation and never fully realized, the compounding interest of treaty violations by the government resulted in a corresponding loss of faith by their Indian counterparts, which not only led to routine hostilities, but a reinvention of process. While talk of a “final solution” was even then being bandied-about, the idea of rounding up “the hostiles” by force, while confining them to reservations was gaining support. But while the “reservation system” inevitability became a reality, it also provided a rather unique opportunity for Christian indoctrination, and to “kill the Indian (spiritually) to save the man.” And corralled as they were, the Indians simply sorted through the religious hay to find that which suited them. Not surprisingly, an alternative form of Christianity once again began to emerge, yet this time with a renewed vigor that was unapologetically Indian and announced by the sound of distant drums.

It was not long then before rumors of a self-styled, Indian messiah, somewhere out west began to surface, yet not before the Ghost Dance had infiltrated nearly every Indian reservation out west. In less than two years, between 1889-1891, it had spread like a brush-fire, while remaining virtually unnoticed until its fated appearance at Pine Ridge South Dakota in 1890. And, with its drumming, dance-circles, manifold visions and miraculous attestations, it was like “living water” for a spiritually parched people. And that was the primary concern, particularly at Pine Ridge. Agency. Carried away by the idea that on any given day, somewhere, someplace in the wilds of western America, Indians were doing their religious thing, independently and unsupervised, participating in all-night vigils, fasting and praying…and drumming, gave the religious authorities and the war department fits. Who, considering the possibility that this seemingly peaceful spiritual uprising had the potential to metastasize and spread to every conceivable corner of the continental United States not only gave them pause, but a plan. While the possibilities were endless, the rest is history as they say, and although tragically graphic, as the preemptive massacre at Wounded Knee Creek proved, the fact is that of over 200, unarmed, men, women and children were cut down by 50 caliber Howitzers, in the middle of the winter on that fateful day of December 29, 1890. This seminal event not served as a terminus for Indian hope, but a sorry footnote for western diplomacy and Christianity as well.

While many have argued, and continue to argue that Indian Christianity is inconsistent with the fundamental principles of The Faith, and that it was only fitting that it should die at Wounded Knee, none can deny that an Indigenized form of Christianity had once again emerged from the religious claptrap of the mainstream. Indeed, while “many scholars have concluded that Christianity’s influence determined much of the form and function of the Ghost Dance itself,” (Warren 2017, 11) the last of that song has yet to be sung. As the irresistible and irrepressible nature of the “Good News” when seeded among the oppressed of this world intimates of the very real possibly of a similar spiritual conflagration spreading throughout the Americas at some time in the not-so-distant future, when resistance for the mainstream will in itself prove futile.

“Rest assured that in your present state you are no more saved than those who do not have, nor want, the faith of Jesus.” (Fr. Antonio de Montesinos)

This cryptic statement by Fr. Montesino, in his Sermon to the Spanish Catholics in Hispaniola on Christmas Eve of 1511, was perhaps the first time in the history of the New World that Christianity was stripped bare of its pretense and its adherents exposed for what they were, devils masquerading as saints. To put that in its proper context, when given the opportunity to convert to Christianity before being burned alive, the Taino Indian rebel, Hautey, responded by saying: “If all Spaniards go to heaven, I’d rather go to hell!” Confounded by the Spaniards’ apparent lack of comprehension concerning the depth of depravity of their souls, Montesino’s went on to say: “How is it possible that you can repose in such a profound and lethargic slumber?”

A statement which does in fact beg the question, how can such a dichotomy exist, particularly among professing Christians today? Is it because they believe that salvation exist independently and somehow apart from any benefit other than that of their own salvation? Apparently, and the Church itself is largely to blame, as by its historical emphasis on the sacraments to the exclusion of holiness, they have reduced salvation to it lowest common denominator, with believers remaining sinners while professing Christ. For that reason one might say that the sacraments themselves have become perfunctory, lacking the spiritual power necessary to transform, much less convict, believers for their lack of accountability before God in this life, not to mention the life to come. To be clear, from a scriptural perspective , personal sacrifice will remain forever unproductive if not conjoined with a without a spiritual transformation. Although convenient externalizations exist, such as regular church attendance, tithes, offerings and token support for missions, few Christians would even contemplate getting their hands dirty as campesino’s in “the fields of the Lord.”

While Montesino’s may have been the first to articulate a certain rationale which later became known as “Liberation Theology,” he was certainly not the last, as Bartolome de las Casas (1484-1566) soon followed. As the first Catholic Bishop of Chiapas, de Casas’ initial notoriety was derived from his direct involvement in the burning the Popol Vu, or Mayan Codex, a written history of the earliest myths and creation stories of the Mayan people. Although now considered an incalculable loss for mankind itself, it could also be considered uniquely relevant regarding the prophetic, as the Codex spoke of a day of judgement for wrong-doers. Eventually repenting of what can only be described as a “crime against humanity,” de las Casas later became Judge Advocate for the Spanish court, arguing not only on behalf of universal ethics, but Indigenous rights for the peoples the Americas. Consequently, he was also known as the chief critic of the encomienda, a colonial system of labor based on tribute, which in the case of impoverished Indians meant that their only attribute was to work themselves to death for the benefit of their patron‘s financial interests.

Unfortunately, little has changed, as capitalism itself has evolved to become nothing more than an advanced form of encomienda, exploiting the poor as the primary means of production, while accruing wealth at their continued expense. Interestingly, the Church has labored under a similar guise, extending one hand in friendship, while at the same time endorsing such exploitation through a lack of intervention. Yet, the Church’s complicity has not gone unrecognized, as through it’s role in colonizing the Americas it inadvertently produced a New World hermeneutics. A genesis of thought derived directly from the Indigenous experience of historical injustice, and elaborated upon by pen on parchment. Albeit beneficiaries of the Jesuit tradition and highly educated, it can be said that with the consecration of the first Indigenous Catholic priests and bishops, they wrote. And as their theology evolved, it paralleled that of Indigenous suffering, not only at the hands of colonial governors, but through the quiescence of the Catholic Church.

Yet regarding Liberation Theology itself, it wasn’t until centuries later that it became the focus of controversy regarding its theological justification for revolt. Interestingly, as well as contrary to popular opinion, Liberation Theology was neither Marxist nor anti-religious, as its existential expression was derived from the Bible itself. Seeing themselves written into the script, even as the Jewish people had been, direct-action was deemed counterproductive to the capitalist cause and a threat to US. interests in Latin America during the 1960’s and 70’s. Liberation Theology then was heralded as nothing less than a blueprint for socialist reform, even as it served as the Modus operandi for resistance movements throughout the region. In contrast to its undeserved reputation, it was championed by a number of well-regarded Catholic theologians, such as Boff and Gutierrez, receiving their blessing, even as it became elevated by the martyrdom of saints, such as Archbishop Oscar Romero of El Salvador.

From the very beginning in the Americas, people understood true liberation to be a bottom-up affair, with the poor praying in church on Sundays, whle during the week “… consciously carrying out the revolution of society–and of hearts.” (Inczauskis 2021) Although censured ecumenically as well as politically, Catholic liberation theologians were not only correct in their assessment of the underlying causes of poverty, but were prescient in noting that the common struggle of the poor would eventually encompass the upper classes as well. In addition, they were noteworthy critical of what they referred to as the “Poverty of the Church.” Although they viewed endemic poverty as a societal evil and contrary to the will of God, they identified the spiritual poverty of Christians as being the primary problem. In their singular resistance to the call of charity, as well as their notable “…lack of solidarity with the poor in protest against the conditions under which they suffer,” (Gutierrez 1971) they have not only endorsed it, but allowed it to continue.

And it has, now to the extent that both poverty and its associated evils have migrated further north, seeking safe haven and a secure livelihood in the Disneyland dystopia of the United States. As a result, recompense now knocks at the door of the above-average. And though the growing discomfiture demands a response, the well-intended would be better served by dealing directly with the devil, rather than continuing to externalize the problem. Rather than meaningful reform, the poor among us have become ourselves, even as our religious leaders continue don, whole cloth it would seem, the robes of the repentant, yet their sanctimony is little more than the devalued currency of concession. For better or for worse, perhaps the ensuing chaos that’s coming, due in part to centuries of denial and neglect, will at last be enough to awaken the dreamer from his fitful slumber. “Let us then sleep while we can, lest upon awakening we remember, and forlorn weep, for our part in this world of pain.”