We pulpiteers trade in the principial. And in our mandate to be prescriptive at some culminating point in a sermon, we must be clear, direct, and specific. Who could quibble with "mercy" being a controlling principle for most efforts, including oversight of migration? But because we occupy pulpits, not whatever settings policy at scale is hammered out, this hortatory word sounds, well, presumptuous--as if mercy is the only salient principle that could guide and direct, who can deny, this immeasurably complex challenge.
This is a very good point: sermons operate in a limited timeframe. I don’t quibble with mercy being a very good frame within which to place many of our moral concerns, though I do wonder whether landing on empathy does the work practically or theologically that we think it does.
And it’s not so much that I think what she said was presumptuous so much as not really consistent with how Christians read the Old Testament on this question or most other others. It feels a bit too easy to reach for a straightforward commandment and have to be careful when we do that.
Perhaps this betrays a hypocrisy or a cynicism I must repent of. But None of us speaks from outside a milieu. She had him before her, but she had peers and a "watching world" in her head. Not to rebuke him in some clear way, but on the basis of some opaque moral logic, would have been for her and the Cathedral milieu a "missed opportunity" to speak "truth to power."
I think we always have multiple Publix in view, and it gets very tricky. I don’t mean my comments to be a criticism of her sermon, as I think the sermon was what it could be in that particular moment, but rather as indicative of how we use a direct command as a stand in for a more rich approach.
Thanks for your thoughts on this difficult subject. I especially appreciate you pointing out that from a Christian perspective there are no national boundaries.
Mostly I just think that modern American politics/policies/governance do not map onto Scripture as neatly or directly as we might like to think, and that attempting to shoehorn in anything and everything as some sort of “clear Christian directive” is not serving the Church, or Christians, or the country well.
We pulpiteers trade in the principial. And in our mandate to be prescriptive at some culminating point in a sermon, we must be clear, direct, and specific. Who could quibble with "mercy" being a controlling principle for most efforts, including oversight of migration? But because we occupy pulpits, not whatever settings policy at scale is hammered out, this hortatory word sounds, well, presumptuous--as if mercy is the only salient principle that could guide and direct, who can deny, this immeasurably complex challenge.
This is a very good point: sermons operate in a limited timeframe. I don’t quibble with mercy being a very good frame within which to place many of our moral concerns, though I do wonder whether landing on empathy does the work practically or theologically that we think it does.
And it’s not so much that I think what she said was presumptuous so much as not really consistent with how Christians read the Old Testament on this question or most other others. It feels a bit too easy to reach for a straightforward commandment and have to be careful when we do that.
Perhaps this betrays a hypocrisy or a cynicism I must repent of. But None of us speaks from outside a milieu. She had him before her, but she had peers and a "watching world" in her head. Not to rebuke him in some clear way, but on the basis of some opaque moral logic, would have been for her and the Cathedral milieu a "missed opportunity" to speak "truth to power."
I think we always have multiple Publix in view, and it gets very tricky. I don’t mean my comments to be a criticism of her sermon, as I think the sermon was what it could be in that particular moment, but rather as indicative of how we use a direct command as a stand in for a more rich approach.
Thanks for your thoughts on this difficult subject. I especially appreciate you pointing out that from a Christian perspective there are no national boundaries.
It seems that God has a very peculiar way of dealing with national sovereignty
Mostly I just think that modern American politics/policies/governance do not map onto Scripture as neatly or directly as we might like to think, and that attempting to shoehorn in anything and everything as some sort of “clear Christian directive” is not serving the Church, or Christians, or the country well.