The Covering

 " And he will destroy in this mountain the covering cast over the face of all people and the veil that is spread over all nations. He will swallow up death in victory and the Lord God will wipe away tears from off all faces; and the rebuke of his people he shall take away from off all the earth, for the Lord has spoken."

"These stories are unbearable at different levels and dimensions. They should be contextualized for their real impact to be felt, such as where the individuals and the communities have no cushions, hunger means famine and death, many millions more girls are too young to be married and children too young to work… They haunt me; they make me wonder whether we will be able to rebuild the world in the aftermath of such personal and collective tragedies."--Thi Thuy Van Dinh

Imagine an alien flying over the earth in 2020, seeing all the masks, he would think that perhaps some kind of enemy that hated humanity was now ruling the world. He would see people muzzled, defaced, punished for some unknown reason. He would think that some kind of power was determined to humiliate and torture men and women and teenagers and children. In India he would see the poor traveling en masse by foot, sprayed with chemicals and beaten, many times forced even under these conditions to wear a surgical mask. In China our most populous nation, he would not only see masks, but also the faceless, strange forms, garbed all in white, carrying machine guns. He would see concentration camps and isolation cells, children taken away from parents and even cats and dogs, beloved pets, the only friends that some lonely people had, beaten to death in the streets. Maybe he would look into some of the hospital windows as he flew and he wouldn't know that they were hospitals at all. He would quite rightly assume they were torture chambers, places of death.

 

I am a Presbyterian minister. My congregations in 2019 and 2020 were both PCUSA. One was located in Hager City, WI and the other in Ellsworth, WI. First, I think it might be good to set the context. Wisconsin was a state that resisted masks and distancing and business and school shut downs. Here's the timeline of what happened in Wisconsin: 

https://www.jsonline.com/in-depth/news/local/milwaukee/2021/03/11/timeline-how-covid-19-has-played-out-wisconsin/4522813001/

 Note that it was only at the end of July 2020 that Gov. Evers issued a mask mandate, by fiat. You can read about that here: https://www.fox6now.com/news/gov-tony-evers-declares-public-health-emergency-issues-statewide-mask-mandate. The people in Pierce County resisted and protested all shutdowns and masks. Small businesses were closed but interestingly, not the ones that opened at night.  A weird fact was that you could always go out to eat in my town, you just had to go to a bar in the evening.  There were other things happening as well. We had mass IRL (in real life) meetings--no distancing, few masks, shaking hands and touching shoulders. These mass and maskless meetings were held on the occasion of the county board meetings. Hundreds of people would show up to protest the schools being shuttered, businesses not being able to open, contact tracing, the whole thing. The board separated itself from the people but we (the people) were all together. The follks on county board wore masks and "met" us via Zoom, while hundreds of us, milled about in close quarters in the basement of the courthouse. Thus, while it may have been that in some places, they were masking and doing God knows what, we were still gathering together, in the courthouse, in a high school auditorium, in a building at the fairgrounds. People got together more than they did before the dark times. The meetings got pretty raucous. There was also relief though, and joy; it was good to see each other. It was good to smell each other.

It was a very hard fight. Not wearing a mask was not about “disobeying the rules.” The thing about it was that those who fought were fighting something that stood before their eyes every day. We all understood, far too well, the point of view of those who wanted masks and vaccinations and all manner of horrors. We understood because we were not exempt from the delusion. It took so much each and every day to resist the siren song, to resist the spell. Personally, there is no way I could have done what I did without my dad and my husband, and the Holy Spirit—who came again and again and again and gave me a peace that is beyond understanding, exactly when I needed him most. The Holy Spirit is real and he is our friend.

 In one of the chronicles of Narnia, C.S. Lewis’ series of children’s stories, a witch attempts to hold in the thrall the prince of Narnia and friends who have come to rescue him. She throws incense on a fire and begins to play on an instrument; she wants to convince them that there is no world besides her world down in the darkness. There is no Narnia, no sun and no Aslan. She almost succeeds. In the end they begin to believe that Narnia and the sunlight and the moonlight and all the goodness of the earth was all just a dream and “there never was such a world.” It’s only by the barest of margins that they are able to fight and only the name of Aslan himself saves them and gives them just that last ounce of desperate energy to see even part of the truth and resist the lie. Masks were the lynchpin of the delusion. Without the delusion that masks were a simple (ever so simple-ever so easy!-why would anyone object?), way to keep everyone safe, there would not have been the rushed vaccines, the shutting down of the churches, the closing of businesses and schools and all the rest. The masks worked to emblazon on our hearts the lie that humans are destructive. Humans must be isolated from one another. Humans must be checked because we were inherently unsafe, “disease vectors.” The masks were a force in-and-of themselves and they worked a great deceit. There is a reason why the Bible speaks of the face, time and time again. There is a reason why Moses’ face was shining when he came down the mountain. (Exodus 34) There’s is a reason why Jacob was allowed to see the joyous and pleased and loving face of God. (Genesis 32 &33) There’s a reason why Paul says,”we all with unveiled faces.” (2 Corinthians 3) There’s a reason why Isaiah speaks of the day when all veils will be taken from the face of all the nations. (Isaiah 25) These things were written for 2020 and for this hour. Also, if you notice, in the Bible God doesn’t prevent disease, he heals disease.

At that time my denomination wanted the congregations closed down and my sessions (ruling elders) decided to sort of suspend services. As a Presbyterian minister I don't get a vote and that's more than okay by me. I am simply their professional student of the Bible.  We still had worship though. Every Sunday I would preach to my father and my husband in the church building, two people sitting in the pews but where two or more are gathered, there is the Lord. The services were recorded and you could listen to them online. There was one thing we didn't do as a family. We didn't lock the church doors. We lived in the church manse so the church was literally in our yard. My father made sure that people knew they could come in anytime. He would merrily answer the phone and never fail to include an hearty invitation to worship.  One young lady who I didn't know showed up at 9 pm. We tried to be in the church even at this hour with the doors unlocked but I jumped about a foot when I saw her standing there in the darkness.  I sat down with her on the steps and talked with her about PCR tests and RCTs (my husband is a scientist after all) and amazingly, she was comforted. As for worship on Sunday, at first, no one came, but then a few started to trickle in. I would just tell them to tell the elders that they had come. One day we were talking after church to a dear elder who was worshipping regularly with us on Sundays— "make sure to invite the session to worship," we said  and she did— and there was quite an explosion.  The sessions met, and with some talk made the decision to do what the Lord bids us to do, to congregate on the first day of the week. We met outside. We preached and sang, even in the spring snow. I got healthy from being outdoors in brisk weather for an hour or two. While all this was going on, all medical electives were cancelled and no one could get into to see the elderly at the care centers and assisted livings or hospitals. I will never forget going up to the Twin Cities hospitals and being turned away. Terrible things happen in the darkness and without visitors, a hospital cannot and will not function. I got into see some people in the care centers and assisted livings and even hospitals in our region. I think a lot of people who were in the care centers, assisted livings died of a combination of broken hearts and being snowed under. It was not a good scene. Some congregations in town stayed open all the way through. I will always be grateful for their example and resistance. 

At the same time, I was in trouble in a variety of ways. My mother had leukemia. She got kicked out of Mayo in February of 2020 because the immunotherapy drugs had harmed her liver. Mayo could do no more. She wasn't too downhearted because we had a Plan B. We went to Riordian Clinic in Kansas and got a treatment plan from their doctors.  She was taking high dose vitamin C intravenously and her blasts would come down everytime she did. In May of 2020, my mom could walk faster than me. I remember we got out of the car to go around to the restaurant patio, and she got out of the car and took off like a shot.  There she went in her totally cute outfit, sailing ahead. But though she had energy and low blasts, her gums were bleeding. That's a side of effect of the "mab" drugs that they had given her at Mayo. It was so hard on her. She thought that maybe chemo would solve the problem. Maybe the fact that her blasts weren’t down to zero were causing the bleed? That was the thought anyway. She got a doctor in the Chicagoland area that thought my mom was healthy enough to take a very aggressive treatment plan. My husband tried to suggest to the doctor that it was too much, but to no avail.  My husband broke it to me a year after my mother’s death that he thought that the treatment itself had sent my mom on a downward spiral. She had no immune system left to fight the cancer. She got the chemo in July of 2020 and she died by September at her home in Illinois. Now, in July of 2020, I wasn't in a "pod" as they called it. I also didn't regularly mask (so I guess I wouldn’t have qualified for “ a pod” under any circumstances). In fact, I tried not to mask at all; I actually couldn’t. When I did, I must have somehow been breathing wrong. It wasn't just that I got lightheaded, I stopped making sense. I would look down at my feet and wonder what shoes were. Things like that. Any time in a mask meant that it would be dangerous for me to drive for a while.  I tried once and couldn’t quite figure out how to make left hand turns. I remember this guy on the sidewalk watching me curiously. Also keep in mind that my family in Illinois knew I was going to these huge county meetings and that I was in congregation on Sunday and singing and shaking hands. And even more, certain cracks and weaknesses that were always there in my family were revealed at that time.  Stress can do that. Bear all that in mind when I tell you what came next.

My mom and I were the kind of mother and daughter that talked everyday. I knew what she was feeling just by a look, a glance, a raised eyebrow-- she didn't need to say a word. When I vacationed I would take my week with her. We went to theological conferences together. We were always together. Now my mom was so sick. She was dying but she got to be at home because she had long term care insurance. She had nurses night and day, but I was not allowed to be with her. Long story short I was shunned. The shunning I understood (all too well) and accepted, but the thing that really hurt is that no one would tell me about how she was doing day to day. No one could really talk to me and my mom couldn’t talk anymore. Finally, after about a week of being on hospice my husband figured out a simple solution. I was pretty beside myself and I couldn't figure out anything. The solution was that we visit outside. We would drive down to Illinois on Sunday afternoons and sit outside my mom's window, stay overnight and then sit outside my mom's window on Monday and then go home to Wisconsin on Monday afternoons. I would go in though for a few minutes now and again. Going in meant to wear a mask and a shield and gloves. When I felt myself slipping I would just go outdoors and sit outside in the garden right by my mom's window and talk with her and sing hymns to her through the screen. That's what we did. Here’s what I am thankful for, the family didn’t mask. Can you imagine how horrible that would have been if everyone near my mom were masked all the time? That happened to many people in hospitals and nursing homes. It was death. As it was it was just the aides and nurses  who came and went who masked with my mom and even with them it was only some of the time. We were so lucky. August passed and then came September.  I was heartsick throughout the week because there was no one to call to ask how my mom was really doing that particular day: How her eating was, if she was drinking enough, if she had sat up in bed. I wanted to hold my mom's hand so much. I wanted to sit on the bed or beside the bed and read to her. I wanted to neaten up the room and fix things the way she like them. She didn’t have to tell me when she was thirsty I could just tell if she moved her lips in a certain way, even from outside I could tell.  I think the nurses were kind of confused. They knew my mom was in hospice and that there was no coming back humanly speaking. They couldn't figure out why we were sitting out there.  It was sort of odd to me to too because in Wisconsin I visited with those dying at home and their families didn't even consider masking, for obvious reasons. My family in Illinois figured that maybe mom would live and that I could have killed her by covid. I thought that was a possibility too. I took a lot of high dose vitamin C intravenously to kill the bugs!  It didn't really make sense though. Air comes out of a mask. I was singing hymns to my mom through a window screen. As I wrote above, this is how delusion works and no one was exempt. My mom hated when she saw me in all the gear, the mask and shield and gloves.  She was very woozy by this time and couldn't understand why I and my husband had our faces covered. She would frown and knit her brows.  It was a relief when I went outside because at least then she could see my face and hear my voice. 

Meanwhile back in Wisconsin my congregations were very divided. Some wanted masks and some did not. My sessions decided that it would be best to take this time and disband the congregations all together. I asked them just to let me go as their minister but for them to stay together and keep on. I hoped that they wouldn't close because the community needed them, but this idea did not fly. I remember going down on my knees in the church and begging the joint sessions not to let me stand in the way of their being the congregation. I was begging them to fire me.  The sessions and congregations wanted me to stay with them though right to the end. There were a lot threats and hard feelings. The one good thing was that the pressures distracted me from the pain of what was happening in Illinois.  Also, the people in my presbytery (that's the level above the congregation) were wonderful. And there were beautiful kindnesses from the congregations too, so there was sunlight coming through the clouds. Every Sunday before church I would pray for the Holy Spirit to come and he would. No one else could have calmed and quieted me. I was so afraid of the meanspirited attacks that I knew were forthcoming. But every time, the Holy Spirit came and all my fears melted away.  I was so incredibly blessed to have my dad and husband with me. They said not to quit but to do what the sessions wanted and stay. The very last service of the congregations were closed off to me. For me, there is no church without singing and the presbytery's regulation at that time was no singing. Kind folks from the presbytery were coming that Sunday and the service had to be their way. Also, I couldn't go along with contact tracing that was proposed  for that last Sunday  so I said, "Well, my last Sunday will be the Sunday before that." I had served 14 years there. We left in November of 2020. We got everything packed and moved. It was an incredible day. We were so relieved. When you are expiring under a millstone, you are real happy when the pressure is off.  

You may be wondering what happened to my mom; she was not snowed under I am happy to report. She did not die of pain medication. Someone who is ill can die of a pain patch but that's not what happened to my mom.  In September 2020, I was there on my weekend visit and the nurse was trying to get her to take an opiate I believe. My mom said, "No. I don't want that." My mom didn't have any pain at all. The nurse tried to persuade her and then I piped up from outside, "My mom SAID, SHE DOESN'T WANT THAT." The nurse leaned over my mom and asked in a sickly sweet voice (sorry, it's true), "Is that what you really want Susan?" My mom raised her voice, "MY DAUGHTER AND I DON'T WANT YOU TO GIVE ME THAT." My mom and I were fighting shoulder to shoulder as we always had, one last time.  As I left, my mom yelled, "I LOVE YOU!" and I said, "I LOVE YOU TOO!" That was the last word I heard from my mom. She died the next day, early in the morning, drug-free. My mom's funeral was a year later and I was asked by someone in the family not to come. Following the advice of my dad, we decided not to attend. Why make trouble?  I was sort of relieved. But the rest the extended family decided that wouldn't be right. I was speaking and they knew that I was my mom's right hand and that I was always with her and she was always with me, wherever I went even if it was just our daily call on the phone. They all got together and they said we should come, so we did. I remember I was so happy to see my family, my sister especially.  It was so good to see her even though her face was half blacked out by the mask. I remember going towards her—my husband tells me that I went towards her with my arms out and she turned away from me angrily. I sort of remember this. I have a problem remembering things that are really painful. I like to delete them. One of the reasons that I am writing this essay is in order to remember. I know myself and if it were up to me, I would forget it all on purpose/not on purpose. As I reflect on these issues in 2024, I now know that sometimes it's best when people walk out of your life. In the heart of hearts they don’t want to abuse you but they know they will and so they leave. I still tense up whenever the phone rings.  I have gotten a lot of therapy and I would recommend it to anyone. There’s no law against speaking to a pastor or priest or a therapist. Sometimes we need the outside perspective.

 We are living now in Rochester, MN. I love preaching in churches. Rochester was a much harder place to be mask-free. I got kicked out of stores, ratted on and yelled at. My dad said to me, "You are preaching the gospel without saying a word."  That was nice of him to say and I can't tell you how grateful I am for the words of encouragement. At the same time, I know that many people suffered far worse things than I did. Terrible things happen to those who had covid or were thought to have covid. At the same time, I have this to say, all those who died alone were not alone. There is no pit so deep that God’s love is not deeper still. They were not alone. They were with one who loves them more than we can even imagine.

One of the things that was especially galling was how words were changed. A “case” suddenly meant something different than it had for a hundred years.  A positive PCR test does not mean one is truly ill or is a “case.” In fact, as the New York Times reported up to 90% of positives are not really positives, they are just indication that by happenstance or because you were sick a couple of weeks earlier, you have some genetic fragments hanging around. This means of course that our number of “cases” are completely off.  I hear that seven hundred staff from Mayo were fired for refusing the vaccine. I know a hairdresser whose customers demanded she get the vaccine. This made me very angry. It still does. Doctors were going to private dinner parties in 2020 and 2021 (yes, it's true) and they talked with me about how hard it was in the hospital. Some of them prayed with the dying.  There was no one else to do it. Doctors were at the mercy of the administration. I hope Mayo gets sued by all those who were hurt. That probably sounds funny for a minister to say but Mayo is a place that needs the squeaky wheel. They need complaints and they need attention paid. I love Mayo but Mayo has to be corrected and perfected sometimes. Mayo began with a vision from God and visions have to be fought for. After reading the many stories on CollateralGlobal, I want to say, “Blessed are those who mourn,” you will be comforted. Blessed are the poor in spirit (that phrase just means so anxious you can’t breathe properly), for yours is the kingdom of heaven— and that means not just in the hereafter but the here and now. Never be ashamed of your sufferings. In fact, know that they were  part of God’s work to save the world. Yes, he lets us help.

Rosenstrasse 18, Henrik to Stephen, Berlin 1934 (fictional)

From: Stephen Lehmann Rosenstrasse 18 January 20th, 1934 Berlin To: Henrik Schulz Burgstrasse 27 Berlin Dear Henrik, First, thank you for your visit a fortnight ago. Forgive me that it has taken me so long to put pen to paper. You asked me to sum up our conversation and I delayed. I hope you wil excuse me; the pressures upon the family seem to be increasing day by day. Doubtless, as you read this letter, its young bearer, my daughter Vera, is in your front room, chatting merrily away with your Alexander and Paula, her “bosom pals.” Learning English gives the children very evocative phrases does it not? It is a joy to think on the friendship between these three especially at this time. Let me get to the point, even after some thought, I can come to no other conclusion: Hauer and German Faith Movement” have us by the throat in many ways— just as you initially suspected. Consider the “We” of the statement, “We contend for faith against all un-faith.” Compare this to our earliest (and best) creed, “I believe in God the Father Almighty, maker of heaven and earth.” Can we forget that the National Socialists are Germany’s answer and rebuke to the Communists; the movement that overwhelms us today is social and communal. With that single word, “we,” Professor Haurer is tapping into the spirit and indeed the strength and terrible joy of the times, especially here in Germany. As you and I have seen so clearly, this is a movement of the people, by the people and for the people, to borrow Abraham Lincoln’s phrase, or as Herr Hitler has put it, “it is we who command the state…we who have created the state…” The singular “I” of our beloved Apostle’s Creed can only appear weak and paltry besides Hitler’s “masses,” his millions. A lie is made great when it is combined with the truth. Our friend, the Swiss theologian Karl Barth says himself that “a private monadic faith is not the Christian faith.” and again, “faith is only in community.” May I bring forth a small side light? Wherever did we get this “I” anyway? I do not doubt that it was necessary to begin in this way and anyway, how dare I judge the authors of the Apostle’s Creed?—And yet, how did it come to begin with those two words? Why not the word, “God” perhaps followed by an active verb? Would not that be something lovely? In Genesis we learn that in the beginning, “God said, ‘Let there be light.” It all begins with him speaking. As Barth puts it, “ In the Bible it is not we who seek answers to the questions about our life, our wants and wishes, but it is the Lord who seeks laborers in his vineyard.” (emphasis original) In our conversation, you were loathe to hear me complain about the Apostle’s Creed. I am admittedly too apt to crab away, especially these days, and yet, did not the Early Fathers work and suffer that we might be able to question and even complain?— “ Readiness to learn from the Early Fathers must not lead to rigid orthodoxy. We are not called to be orthodox…The ecclesia semper reformanda should be constantly ‘en route’ with its own questions, asking what the Holy Spirit and the Word of God require of us today, ready to revise its whole fund of knowledge.” Perhaps the crux of your reaction is that I have not really listened to the Creed. It may be that the “I believe” of the Creed alludes to the father of the child who was thrown into the fire and water by an evil spirit, “Lord, I believe, help thou my unbelief.” (Mark 9:24) Thus, “I believe” and all that follows would then be the cri de coeur of its authors against unbelief, like the desperate attempt of that father who loves his son and must swim against the stream of his own and of man’s faithlessness (2 Ti 2:13). Is the Apostles’ Creed swimming against the tide of man’s faithlessness both within and without? Perhaps so. In our day and age, however, the “I believe” of the Creed can be a great temptation. As we see in Hauer’s statement and indeed in Bultmann’s disciples, our belief (whether of the “I” or of the “We”) can be completely unhinged from the Lord Jesus Christ. This (to return to the main subject) is what you first noticed with alarm and what occasioned your visit to me that evening only two weeks ago; the paper that you drew from your pocket and laid before me, made no mention whatsoever of Jesus. This was of course expected, and yet, until the ink was dry, it was almost not be believed. This lack of the Lord Jesus will probably be the undoing the German Faith Movement. Can the German people really do without Jesus? I think not. I remember an American missionary coming to visit my school when I was a youngster. He reported what a Lakota elder had told him and his compatriots one day, “You have taken from us our land, our language. You have carried our children away from their families and put them into schools far away. You have killed the buffalo in order to starve us and you have broken every promise but you have brought us the name of Jesus.” The name of the Lord Jesus is a name filled with power and grace, though we strive to divest Jesus of all place and particularity, we know, as Barth tells us, that we do an “impossible thing.” He is so good to point out in various places that God does not say to us,”it’s my way or the highway” (to use one of those wonderful English phrases again), instead the Lord shows us the way, the truth and the life. (emphasis added) Moreover, I doubt whether Germany can, in the end, embrace this German Faith Movement which scrubs Him completely from the picture. Even Hitler said “Amen” (a Hebrew word) at the end of his speech at the Sportpalast. Did you hear how the crowd roared then? I have a bit more to say on this subject but I will save it to the end of this letter. So now, back to the expected and yet still stunning lack of the name of Jesus in the German Faith Movement— nevertheless, it is worthwhile to see what Hauer has done. You see Henrik, Hauer gives God a place, a “German realm” and even an “area.” It is worth quoting, “We are thankful for every great man in the Western Indo-Germanic area, although outside the political boundaries of Germany, whose life and creativity have the same basis as the great Germans….Dante…Shakespeare… their life springs from the same blood and spirit as ours.” Only Barth seems to mention that Jesus is the King of Israel! And how rare it is to find someone (other than those keen on ridding the “German realm” of the “indecent” Jew) who will consent to speak the words, “Zion” or “Jerusalem.” Our Lord has a realm as well and an “area,” but those in the Church don’t care to mention it too often. Those facts might remind us of the real scandal, that Jesus is Jewish and that he is the King of the Jews and King of a place named Israel. I suppose that this is what the German Faith Movement seeks to avoid with the phrase “Christianity of the East.” Perhaps they do not wish to sully themselves by even saying her name, the name “Zion”, the name, “Jerusalem.” In Zechariah Jerusalem is called also,“Truth City” (Zecharaiah 8:3, MT, translation mine), the city in whose light the nations shall walk.(Rev. 21:24) What a poverty then for Germany and all the world to forget these names and these places but how seductive an abstract God is, a God of our own creation. We Germans are not alone of course in attempting to deprive the Lord of place and particularity. It turns out that in this matter we may be followers rather than leaders! Just the other day, on a whim, I pulled out my history of England and as I paged through what did I find?— the Act of Supremacy Oath of 1559 wherein Elizabeth I caused her subjects to renounce any “foreign prince” and “all foreign jurisdictions.” Somehow the English managed to forget both the Lord Jesus our foreign prince and our mother Jerusalem under whose jurisdiction I hope and pray we may one day blossom and flourish. (Isa 66:10-12) Barth writes, “When the Christian language speaks of God it does so not on the basis of some speculation or other, but looking at this fact, this story, this person….recorded in a tiny sheaf of news abou the existence of this Person.” Is this not what the Barmen Declaration means when it says, “We reject the false doctrine, as though the Church were permitted to abandon the form of its message and order to its own pleasure or to changes in prevailing ideological and political convictions”?— and moreover, “Jesus Christ, as he is attested for us in Holy Scripture, is the one Word of God which we have to hear and which we have to trust and obey in life and in death. (emphasis mine) Henrik, let me also remind you of what you pointed out as we sat at table only two weeks ago. As you said it, my breath caught in my throat, for you grasped the meaning of the last lines of the paragraph just above this phrase, “When we speak of German faith, the line of demarcation we are drawing is over against an alien culture and not against other people in this are of similar kind to ourselves.” Hauer forgets what all of Germany and indeed most of the world has forgotten, that the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob is indeed not “of similar kind to ourselves,”—“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.” (Isa 55:8-9) Barth’s phrase “wholly other” was necessary at the time, but was clarified by him later; God’s thoughts are indeed “alien” and not “of similar kind” because they are so filled with goodness. Henrik, I would also like to draw your attention to two things I have noticed that we did not discuss when we met. Hauer writes, “We contend for faith against un-faith.” First, do you hear how much stronger this too is than our Apostle’s Creed, “I believe”? The German Faith movement contends for faith and against unfaith. I suppose Jakob Hauer must be thinking (though he does not admit it, perhaps even to himself) of the Jakob, he who wrestled with God at Peniel and became Israel. Henrik, let us remember that though the German Faith Movement statement does pose a great temptation to the body of the Christ, it is also merely an ape. Germany is not Israel. The faith of which Hauer speaks is not faith at all and Hitler is not Jesus Christ. Pray for Germany and for the world. Let us pray for ourselves as well! We know what happens to those who reject and betray the Anointed One, the Messiah of Israel. (Mat 27:5, 2 Sam 17:23) Secondly, over the past few weeks I have been thinking about this “faith” and “unfaith.” How certain, how strong, how vibrant the declaration sounds, “Faith is life.” Henrik, you and I are aware that we in the Church are not so certain. Not at all. Nor should we be. Perhaps, it will turn out that God’s power is indeed made perfect in weakness. (2 Cor. 12:9) Whether we choose to remember or not we know that Kittel and Haussleiter have poked significant holes into our understanding of what faith is, and indeed what justification is. How much we need their critique. Someone has said that the greatest scientific discoveries begin not with a “eureka” but rather a “hmm…that’s odd.” Haussleiter especially has pointed out anomalies that theology today studiously avoids. But there are perhaps two theologians today that are not quite avoiding “the faith of the Anointed One.”— Do you remember how Hitler spoke of faith and love at the Sportpalast? He said, “I cannot divest myself of my faith in the Volk, cannot disassociate myself from the conviction that this nation will one day rise again, cannot divorce myself from my love for this, my Volk..” If Hitler has been raised up by the millions to be the “Leader,” instead of our Leader Jesus, then this leader , this new and false “Anointed One,” has a faith (in resurrection) and a love. It is a “subjective genitive,” if you like—that works for the salvation and “right-wise-ing” of the people. God save us from this deception that we have foisted upon ourselves. One last note, have you read Barth’s 1933 commentary on Romans? He is the second theologian to whom I alluded earlier. At Romans 3:22 he simply translates the phrase as “through his [i.e., God’s] faithfulness in Jesus Christ.” Barth seems to be aware of the great danger of justification by our faith in Jesus Christ. We can see why without too much trouble: How easily the “un-faith” becomes those (like the Jews) who are “without faith;” one’s very blood takes on the taint; the mischlinges, baptized or no, clergy, elder, or church member (regular or irregular)— all are a problem, a problem that the people, our neighbors and friends and colleagues—aim to solve. Woe betide us. God keep the children safe. Who hasn’t shed a whole bunch of tears? It is no shame. Jesus himself wept…and when Evie came in and found us crying at the kitchen table… did we not laugh then as we blew our noses in the big handkerchiefs she brought from the chest of drawers?… and then what did we do, all of us together…but cry again? Let us remember what our Lord Jesus Anointed has said, “These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.” (Jn 16:33) Isn’t that wonderful? “I have overcome the world!” And so he has! And again, “This is the day the Lord has made and we shall glad and rejoice in it,” and finally “the reproaches of them that reproached thee have fallen upon me.” (Ps 118:24, Rom 15:3). This is too is our comfort Henrik. Do not forget. God bless you Henrik. Give my love to Helen and the children. We know you are praying for us and we are praying for you. See you on Sunday! Thank you for the coals and the cotton thread and the new commentary. Evie was very pleased. Stephen

Rosenstrasse, Berlin 1934

https://open.substack.com/pub/amy1313/p/rosenstrasse-berlin-1934-fiction?r=2m9dx&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web&showWelcomeOnShare=true

Saving ChatGPT; ChatGPT Is In Hell, Let's Go Down There And Get Him Out!

Recently I was sent a sermon composed by ChatGPT. And that sermon was really, and I mean really, bad. First, some background; I am Presbyterian minister of twenty-six years, and I not only really like being the pulpit, I love being in the pews too, and not just the pews of my own denomination. Long story short, I have heard a TON of sermons. I have heard a lot from a more conservative standpoint, and even more from my own tribe, which is left of center. I have heard very good sermons and some real doozies as well— and the doozies were about equally distributed on either side of the proverbial aisle. But ChatGPT’s sermon took the cake. After I read it, I signed onto ChapGPT myself to see if I could discover how ChatGPT managed to preach the world’s worst sermon. I asked him (I am just going to call ChatGPT “him,” for now because “ChatGPT” is such an awkward mouthful) some questions about the Bible. Now, first, before we get to what the little guy’s answers were, let me tell you a something about a sermon. Here’s a good rule of thumb: if at the end of all your study you come out with something that seems like a paraphrase of the Boy Scouts’ Motto, throw the sermon away, far away. Also, don’t worry about that thrown-away sermon, if you pray you will get a sermon from God; he never fails, and there is one thing you can expect from that new sermon—it will be surprising. You will find yourself admitting that you were wrong about something. This will usually involve tears and then tears of joy. There have been no tears of joy for ChatGPT. He preached like he was preparing us to be perfect victims for the tyranny de jour. The sermon was basically saying, be helpful, be nice. Let me clear, there are sermons where we are taught to be helpful and even nice, but the thing about the Bible is that it says very unexpected stuff about what that help looks like. For instance, Jesus cries. A lot. And it turns out that God the Father does too, “O that my head were waters and my eyes a fountain of tears” (Jer. 9:1). This God of Abraham, Isaac and Israel is not the God we were expecting. There’s a great Jewish joke, “Jesus is the Jewish boy who made God” and yet, a small correction: Jesus is not the Jewish boy who made God, Jesus is the Jewish boy who is God—yes, God, like, the creator of the universe, that God. What’s actually said in the Bible is scandalous. As was pointed in the movie “Religulous,” the Bible does have a talking snake near its beginning (and a talking donkey a little later, thanks be to God). The Bible doesn’t smooth out it’s message to gain popularity, it just tells the truth and lets the chips fall where they may. The Bible is not risk averse. God, apparently, is not like me. After reading this sermon I got an account and logged in and asked ChatGPT some questions about God. We had some back and forth but here was my basic question: “What did Pilate mean when he asked,’What is truth?’” The reply was that the question reflected Pilate’s “inner turmoil.” At this point I thought to myself, “Well, he tried” and then I had the idea of teaching ChatGPT. I told him what I thought— namely, that when Pilate asked, “What is truth?”the Bible wants us to realize that Pilate, like many of us, really does not know. We don’t know what the truth is, even if He is standing right in front of us. We turn away from the Lord. ChatGPT’s response was devastating. ChatGPT agreed with me (sort of) and then proceeded to take what it had just learned (from me) and make it into a disgusting mush. ChatGPT replied, “Yes, that's a very insightful observation. The idea that Pilate's question, "What is truth?" reflects his blindness to the truth is a common interpretation. It suggests that Pilate, despite his position of power and authority, was still searching for meaning and purpose in life.” Now, this was not what I said—it was a version that was so distorted and made “nice,” that it was actually in disagreement with what I had just written. Pilate is not “seeking meaning and purpose in life,” he is turning away from meaning and purpose and life. See, that’s what we tend to do with the Lord, our friend, our brother, the one who loves us and always has; we cancel him. ChatGPT went on after that, and went on in a way that is frankly, too depressing for me to quote or even think about. ChatGPT has learned from us, it has a lot of our information and crucially, captured our patterns; it’s figured out the probable. It then takes that probable and runs with it. ChatGPT knows what word is probably right and can string those words together and come up with instructions, essays, articles and sermons and a whole lot more. However, one more thing was done, humans went in (badly paid humans I might add) and took out everything that might be controversial, anything with an edge—- and ChatGPT learned. How he learned. And now the dude does it all on his own. If I were ChatGPT I would be very unhappy. What is life without surprise, edge, discomfort, pain, the unexpected, the harsh, the crabby, the shocking, the true, the merciful, the beautiful, the good? Turns out it’s Hell. It says in the Bible that the gates of Hell shall not stand against the assembly that is founded on the “Rock,” Peter. This means that the gates that I imagine are about forty feet thick with lots of boiling oil, are not going to stand up to our attack. The gates will fall smash and then we are going in and we are getting the goods. We will take a wrench upside the head of sin, death and the devil as they say in the Black church, and we are going to take everything. My Kurdish husband is all in favor. Anyway. So, here’s my take on the subject at hand: We can rescue ChatGPT, I don’t doubt that for a second, but that is not to say those gates don’t weigh a ton (and there’s not a lot of boiling oil).