The Last Judgment "Then the King will say to those on his right hand, 'Come, you whom my father has blessed, take for your heritage the kingdom prepared for you since the foundation of the world.  For I was hungry and you gave me food; thirsty and you gave me drink; I was a stranger and you made me welcome; naked and you clothed me, sick and you visited me, in prison and you came to see me.'   Then the virtuous will say to him in reply, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you; or thirsty and give you to drink?  When did we see you a stranger and make you welcome; naked and clothe you; sick or in prison and go to see you?'  And the king will answer, 'I tell you solemnly, in so far as you did this to one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did it to me.'  Next he will say to those on his left hand, 'Go away from me with your curse upon you, to the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels.  For I was hungry and you never gave me food; I was thirsty and you never gave me anything to drink; I was a stranger and you never made me welcome, naked and you never clothed me, sick and in prison and you never visited me.'  Then it will be their turn to ask, 'Lord, when when did we see you hungry or thirsty, a stranger or naked, sick or in prison, and not come to your help?  Then he will answer, 'I tell you solemnly, in so far as you neglected to do this to one of the least of these, you neglected to do it to me.'  And they will go away to eternal punishment, and the virtuous to eternal life. Matthew 25: 34-46

The Death of a Friend Revisited:
A Postscript to "With Liberty and Justice for All"  

    It would seem that the result of obsession with the strange malady would be the denial of any kind of God at all so that the immersion into the temporal and earthly might be more complete.  This is not the case at all since having some sort of God or other kicking around up in the attic of the church (beside the worn-out altar cloths and hymnals that are no longer used) is a very real necessity.  How could they ignore the responsibility of the faith as it is presented in the Scriptures without the "Grand Old Man" upstairs to inform them through the well-paid "witnesses to the truth" that their indiscretions are of "His will?"

     The beloved clergy are given the difficult task of running their particular branch of the family business, and with this responsibility always first and foremost in their minds, they must be very careful of the way in which they use the "Word of God" (which is actually what they call it while all the time keeping a straight face) lest they let out some ill chosen piece of scripture that might offend the gathering of the faithful.  After all, it is the faithful, through their  donations to the kingdom of God that pay the "professional level" salaries (which I am told they readily deserve since they are well educated) and provide the comforts of the manse to these dear men and their beloved families.  

     The clergyman, realizing this from the very beginning of his formal training, learns very quickly to forget what little truth he may have been aware of that he might never upset those dear souls that pay their hard earned money to hear him speak his words of comfort to them.  He is not unlike the sin eater of medieval times whose task it was to consume a huge meal laid upon a corpse that he might take the person's sins into himself and free that particular soul for heaven.  In the same way the clergyman, by leading the flock of his congregation onward in deception, takes the responsibility for their being led astray upon himself.  He is well trained to do this at the seminary of his choice where he receives his training regarding the corporation of the church and learns how to tell its lies to those that pay their money to listen.  He is well trained so as not to rock the boat whether it be the local church or the higher judicatories of the corporation, and is led to believe that he actually has been given the freedom to interpret the Holy Writ to the sheep that sit before him, though of course this must be done in accordance with the "acceptable standards" so as not to disturb either the faithful or the corporation. 

     In this way it can be seen that his seminary education becomes that period of his "career" in which he is spoon fed on the sins of the sin-eaters that have gone before him so that he may learn the proper way of presenting the corporate advertising to the congregation.  It is not pleasant to ponder what ultimately becomes of all these sin-eaters, though if ignorance is an allowable excuse then at least some of them may find slight hope.  As I sat in the student's lounge of the seminary (the students must be made comfortable) I overheard a professor speaking to two of his students, telling them that though of course it was ridiculous for an intelligent 20th century person to take literally such concepts as resurrection and incarnation one must, however, continue to use this "symbol structure" within the church, since the people have come to expect it and become uncomfortable when such things are denied from the pulpit.  Later, in the elevator, when I asked this grinning "witness" by way of greeting how he was, he informed me that he was, "Still fighting the good fight."  One can only hope that such a one as this is the way he is out of ignorance and not by conviction.

    What is evidenced by this kind of behavior and language is the fact that there is no room within the confines of academia or the organized church for any kind of god other than the retired shopkeeper that has entrusted the management of the family business to his board of directors while he vacations at his villa in the Bahamas.  What this God wants is for the business of the church to run smoothly in his absence so that he can enjoy himself and not have to worry about how things are being managed.  The way that those in charge of the business perceive the matter is that this old God, having grown very tired after all those escapes with ancient Israel in the Old Testament, sent his son along so that the faith would be provided with a new young and dynamic corporate image.   The son, in the early days, had some pretty wild ideas but it was an easy matter to listen to him politely then restrict him to the role of smiling buffoon, beckoning one and all to "buy our Sunday School," or "buy our potluck dinners."  The board of directors were delighted! "It must truly be the Holy Spirit at work!" they exclaimed as they counted the dollars which piled up higher and higher each week. 

     Sometimes, perhaps in the evening by the fire, the executive may open the New Testament and, even after checking to see if he is reading "Q" or an independent source, he may marvel at the teachings of the Son.  "Some interesting ideas here," he may think as he draws on his pipe, "Too bad these things are bad for business."  He may even go so far as to wonder if perhaps some of these things should be presented to the congregation even given the fact that some of the gentler souls would find it upsetting.  He could relate some of these things (those that proved no threat to the corporation of course) to the plight of the poor General Motors executives that sit before him every week to make sure they get the proper credit on their taxes.   He finally decides against such a wild plan.  "I'll tell them that we are all little flowers in God's great garden and that Christ is the gardener that comes around and sprinkles us all with the living water."  He decides and so retires, warm at heart over both his cleverness and his service to his God.

    While it is obvious that a God such as this is extremely convenient when it comes to  matters of avoiding the responsibilities of the New Testament faith, it is equally obvious that he creates problems in terms of deciding what kind of image the corporate church will present to its stock holders and the public at large.  For this reason it has become necessary to invest heavily in the study of the faith in terms of theology, history, ethics, etc..  Through the study of theology the leaders of the corporate church are able to demonstrate that the aberrations that they practice (in the name of Christianity) are in reality the "will of God", and in view of this they proceed to instruct the would be "proclaimers of the Word" in the same farcical studies.  And here we see only one approach that is employed when the stance of organized Christianity stands against that of New Testament Christianity. 

     The approach that is the most ludicrous is also that which can be one of the most effective in assuring that the truth of Scriptures is eternally overlooked in favor of the more capitalistic functioning of the church.  More important than the words of Jesus or the responsibilities of the church that bears his name as it is seen in Acts and the letters of Paul is the practice of Biblical criticism:  "Look here," says the scholar, "This is the famous 'Q' source!  And over here we have an obvious later redaction to the text!"  What good sport!  Now we know all about what the Bible means scientifically!  Later on we will study it as myth and story in our theology class and then we will know all about that!  After that we will study it in our ethics class and learn how to make God run around in circles and fetch the stick while we pat ourselves on the back for not persecuting Negroes and for "affirming" homosexuals by allowing them to 'witness to the truth' just like we normal 'Christians' do!  How wonderful are we for spending all of our precious time involved in learning these invaluable skills!  We must learn all about Canaanites and Moabites and Jebusites and Hittites and Amorites and of this tribe here and that one there, for such is the information that we will need as we go about our 'call' to proclaim the kingdom of God.  Yes, it is no doubt that the liberal protestant seminaries turn out the most proficient Sunday School teachers in all of Christendom!"

    How to reach these poor souls that have deluded themselves into believing that knowledge is an entity that is a by-product of education?  How to tell them that the gods that they worship are of the temporal and earthly realm, while they One they have claimed to serve all these many years has stood all the time just one step out of their grasp, unable to be bought and able to respond only to their love.  And so they heap their riches ever higher, building the walls around them ever stronger, ever higher, till they blot out what little light is still able to pick its way through the gaps in the stones.  And yet their cross-topped ziggurats stretch ever higher into the sky, and the stack of bills on their money changer's tables grows ever deeper, and as they stand and proclaim their hollowed-out truths (and many outright lies) they are always very careful never to turn around and so continually have been fortunate to avoid staring down into the jaws of the yawning abyss that snaps ever closer at their heels.

    It is most definitely within the realm of great understatement to claim that these are indeed strange times in which we find ourselves living.  My grandparents lived in a time when the telephone was a rare oddity, and could easily remember the advent of such things as automobiles, the radio, electricity, airplanes, various modes of "modern" warfare, and much, much more.  One summer's night in July of 1969, my grandmother told us the story of the time she saw her first automobile; of how awestricken and mystified she and her friends had been as the rattly-little contraption came chugging and wobbling down the road on its wooden carriage wheels, bearing the local doctor enroute to a house-call at a nearby farm.  The next afternoon, we all sat together and watched Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin cavort around on the surface of the moon.  I have often wondered at the thoughts that must have been passing through that old lady's head as she sat there encompassing the history of aviation from Kitty Hawk to the moon - a witness in her own lifetime to all of it. 

    Not too many years ago, there was great commotion about the so-called "generation gap" that existed between my generation and that of my parents.  The main instigation in this turmoil was, of course, the varying interpretations that existed concerning the Viet Nam war and the moral role of the United States within it.  To the older "World War II" generation the matter seemed to be centered around the lack of patriotic zeal and sense of duty to country that characterized the younger generation.  To the younger generation the matter was not so much the highly touted political idealism that was presented as it was the simple and horrifying feeling that our parents would rather see us dead than admit that their precious government had made a mistake.  Fault is not to be attached to either side in this matter.

     The issue of the war was not the pacifistic youth versus the warmongering older generation, but rather that each of these generations had grown up in totally different worlds.   For the younger generation the difference was growing up in a world that had gained possession of perhaps the two most frightening and powerful devices ever conceived by the human mid: television, the ultimate propaganda machine, and the atomic bomb, the ultimate tool of destruction.  The older generation had grown up in a world where warfare still consisted of killing one man at a time, where battles were won by bravery and valor and where in the last reel, with the job well done and the powerful enemy checked, the uniformed hero would lay down his gun and embrace the sweetheart that waited for him on the dock, while everyone danced and threw confetti in Times Square. 

     World War II was the last great adventure of Western man, for at its end the reality of the new and awesome Super Weapon would change the world forever.  Here was an event that far surpasses in importance such long accepted milestones as the Agricultural and Industrial Revolutions, for at Hiroshima and Nagasaki it became evident that man was now capable of wiping his own kind from the face of the planet.  The monstrous fire breathing dragon of the apocalypse raised its head above the horizon and made it plain what a mere puff of his breath could do, and from that time on, though we have tried to convince ourselves that it just isn't true, the fact has rested within the minds of all of us that it is just a matter of time now before the earth becomes nothing more than a mushroom cloud floating around in space.  Even the great ace-in-the-hole escape plan known as the Space Program is of little interest to us now, for it is clearly an example of too little too late. 

     It is this world of push button total destruction that spawned my generation, for we grew up knowing that at any possible second the earth might be subjected to the final great holocaust.  In the 1960's many fought hard to change this terrifying state of affairs.  Now most have given up and are awaiting what is to come in as comfortable a manner as possible.  The long haired radicals of a decade ago (yes, it has been that long) have cut their hair and now strut bedecked in their very stylish three-piece suits, driving their imitation wood flanked station wagons to their lovely homes in the suburbs, where the little woman waits with a cold martini, the evening paper, and a full report on the kids' latest journey to the dentist. 

     On Sundays, due to the force of habit and generous tax breaks, they adorn themselves in all their finery and drive to their favorite "house of worship" where they draw together with their peers and pray to the od that they follow that he might keep them psychologically well-balanced and protect their financial interests.  The man they go to hear is well trained in telling them just exactly what they want to be told because he has gone to seminary and he has been taught by the instructors of the church that the two things in life that really matter are money and feeling good, and that business must always come before religion if one wishes to be "successful".  Yes, the generation gap has been closed.  The "World War II" generation and the "Viet Nam" generation have been reconciled by the one force that is common to both: greed.  The great and all-American god known as the dollar now rules supreme.  The number of these idols that a person is able to accumulate is taken as a measure of his success as a human being.

     "We deserve professional level salaries", say the churchmen, "Because we are well educated.  We have worked hard to get where we are and we demand to be paid accordingly."  This makes perfect sense to the members of their congregations, since this is precisely how things are in the "secular world," and so both are content to sit and count their dollars while the rest of the world cries out in agony all around them.  "Too bad about the suffering in the world," they all say among themselves, "But after we have taken our share there just isn't enough to do much good." 

     For old and young alike the dollar has become the great opiate.  It keeps them secure and deadens their senses to the abominations that continue to plague this old and very sick world of ours.  Each night they sit in front of the shrine that contains the magic glowing tube and they  are shown (in full color) the wars and told of the rumors of wars.  They see in all of their hideous glory the four horsemen of the apocalypse as they prance and spread their fornication from one end of the globe to the other, and they see children starving and men dying, and they see their elected "representatives" bribing and being bribed, and the people on their city streets killing and being killed, and when it is finished they sit at their dining room tables and gorge themselves on the rich foods that they have bought with their precious dollars.  And when they are sated, they move back to their places in front of the hypnotic screen and are absorbed into the make-believe world of beautiful women, righteous cops, and an occasional song and dance.  Outside in the street there is a shot, a scream, and the sound of a falling body, followed shortly by screaming sirens.  Does anyone move to see what has happened or if they can be of help?  No.  "Why bother?" they say, "We can find out all about it tomorrow at six, and there will be film at eleven!"

    To be sure, all is not well.  The tribulations that have plagued the world since the beginning of history are with us now and are growing ever more ominous by the day.  Famine and pestilence ravage vast areas and droughts threaten great regions with the horrifying prospect of even more hunger and disease.  Add to these time honored horrors the modern world's ability to overpopulate and pollute and it is obvious that the current situation is indeed most serious - and this is not even taking into account the ever present reality of the nuclear holocaust that lies behind the simple push of an innocent looking button. 

     Yes, the threat and potential of widespread disaster has never been greater than it is at this very moment.  And yet the most terrifying threat of all is not that of widespread famine or disease, or of the collapse of Western society pending the depletion of oil reserves, or of the daily threat of nuclear eschaton, but rather the attitude that prevails within this culture of ours. 

     As in the old fable, we have become like the grasshopper that sings and dances in the face of the oncoming winter, while the ant scampers around and prepares for the hard times ahead.  When the snows and the great cold come the ant is snug and well fed within his earthen sanctuary, while the grasshopper starves and freezes in the cold. 

     Even a casual glance at the condition of the world shows that there are indeed dire times ahead, and yet when this fact is mentioned the reaction is,  "Now, now, don't go playing the prophet of doom to us.  We'll think of something just as we always have."  In the meanwhile it is, "On with the game and damn the consequences!"  It is one thing to stand robed and bearded complete with placard in hand and shout, "Repent, the end is near!"  It is quite another to simply gaze at the horizon and observe the storm that has been gathering force and moving closer, while the clouds that it bears grow ever darker and ever more terrifying in their power.  And still the grasshoppers sing and dance and scurry around as if there were no tomorrow, the irony of their situation being that this is a distinct possibility.  "If we're damned we're damned,"  they say calmly and with a shrug.  "Eat, drink, and be merry," they cry, yet they refuse to finish the sentence, "for tomorrow we die."

    So the grasshoppers gather on Sundays for what they call "the worship of God" and they listen as another grasshopper, trained especially for the task, stands before them and extols the false virtues that he has been taught at his seminary.  He tells them that all will be well as long as their pledges are maintained and he uses his knowledge of psychology to convince them that the role of the church in their lives is to make them feel warm and secure in a world that is on the verge of coming down around their ears.  The Scriptures are used sparingly so as not to confuse anyone as to the purpose of the church, and the few that still read the words of Jesus and take heart in their promise are merely endured as the ever present "fundies" that though naive, do at least mean well.  

     And as all of this foolishness goes on they ignore the warnings of the prophets that spoke of a much earlier time in which the people of God turned their backs on Him and faced the consequences.  And they ignore the symbolism of the apocalypse and shrug it off as applying only to the supposedly long dead Roman Empire, ignoring the fact that they themselves are the children of Rome and will bear her curse if they continue in her ways.  

     Long ago they were warned by the man that they mockingly call "Master" of the tribulations that come as a thief comes in the night, and as they sit in their seminaries and chuckle and say, "Well now, I wonder what he could have meant," the thief is already at the window, prying at the sash and picking at the lock, and they stand not ready to drive him away, but rather hold out their arms and welcome him into their presence.  The blinding flash of the lightening and the deafening crash of the thunder of the tempest that looms tar-black on the horizon grow ever more prominent as they move closer and closer to shattering the false peace that has lulled the grasshoppers into believing that all is well and will continue always to be so.  They turn against the teachings of the man they outwardly hold to be the Son of God Himself, and when they read of the consequences for their actions they merely laugh and say "Oh, that has nothing to do with us, if that was going to happen it would have happened long ago.  Why, we are good Christians.  Our pastor makes more money now than every, and we always pay our pledge on time." 

     And yet the horrors foretold from ages passed howl and screech outside their door, waiting only that the time may be fulfilled that they may be loosed to hurl their vengeance against the fools that have unwittingly invited them into their parlor.  The dark and cold of the Great Winter grow ever nearer and yet the foolish grasshoppers continue to pipe and dance as if the future held nothing but endless days of feasting and good fortune.

    And the scholars, enraged by this kind of flippancy, stand confident with their well researched theories as to why this or that is not the way that it is written, and they are certain that they can "prove" that these events will not transpire because their critical histories and their exegesis tells them that this is so.   Yet even the casual onlooker need only glance around at his world to realize that all of these wonderful theories will do them no good when the tribulation is upon them.  What will these men of learning do in those days?  Will they stand amid the catastrophic climax to the age and speak of why it is impossible for these things to be happening?  This prospect is not as unlikely as it seems, for already the signs are upon us and this is precisely what they are doing.