Why bother(?)
Many Jesus-followers in the first century believed that Christ would return to them “soon.” You can’t blame them, because some of his statements had suggested that might be the case, that he would return before the first generation of his followers died. But “soon” is a relative term, and the author of 2 Peter expresses that sentiment when writing, “with the Most High one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like one day.”
Since the letter implies that the first generation of Jesus-followers, including the twelve disciples, had passed away, and for some other reasons, scholars don’t believe that 2 Peter was written by the apostle of that name. Thus, I’ll refer to the author as “Pete” going forward.
Pete was responding to some of the teachers who emerged late in the first century. They were suggesting that there was no second coming — the Greek word is παρουσια (parousia) — in the cards. They denied the message of the Hebrew prophets and Jesus regarding the coming kin-dom, and suggested living a life more in line with popular culture.
Pete is trying to get the community re-oriented. He wishes to arouse their “genuine understanding” and create a “state of undistracted attention” among them. He reminds them of the words spoken by “the holy women and men who prophesied,” as well as by Jesus himself. The false teachers who were casting doubt — Pete refers to them as “scoffers” — were to be expected, and they were attempting to mislead by saying nothing had changed since the beginning of time, that there was no reason to live apart from the mainstream.
Toward what were they being tempted? Duane Watson offers some insight on the culture of the time, writing that “Christian morality excluded the early Christians from many aspects of business and social life. Businesses and social clubs often held meetings in temples associated with the worship of pagan gods. The idolatry and sexual immorality associated with this kind of worship precluded Christians from participating in such meetings. Any teaching justifying a Christian’s renewed participation in these activities would have been tempting to new converts who were accustomed to the benefits of these social events.” (Watson, 763)
The path carved by Jesus did not wind through temples honoring Roman or Greek gods, nor did it incorporate the sexual activity that took place in them, nor did it encourage corrupt business dealings. Those who chose to follow Jesus missed out on such opportunities. But Pete was quick to point out that Fear of Missing Out was not warranted in those situations since those opportunities did not lead to a better life. For Jesus-followers, immersing themselves in rituals that blended money, power, cheap sex, and worship of multiple gods would take their eyes off God’s promise of a future built on love and justice for everyone.
One of the challenges I’ve faced in the transition from corporate life is figuring out what success looks like. In my former career, we could compile metrics that included dollars earned, hours billed, response time, systems fixed, and customers retained. Since I worked for a publicly-traded company, it all tracked back to dollars and cents.
While money and numbers probably play a larger role in ministry than they should, Christian pastors are ultimately concerned about ultimate things, and the model we follow was developed by someone who never submitted a monthly report. For instance, Jesus suggested we leave the 99 sheep in our care to search for the one that is lost; that’s far from an efficient use of time.
Most ministry isn’t performed by clergy, however. I’m reminded of other immeasurable efforts that Jesus-followers regularly undertake in the name of humanity and love. The support staff person at your local school who spends their day helping a child who faces unique challenges navigate a system that wasn’t built to accommodate them. The chaplain who spends hours with families and patients who are facing the end of life. The crisis hotline operator who offers listening and care to those with immediate needs. The nurse who eases a patient’s pain through careful positioning of a pillow. The greatest outpourings of love often occur quietly and gently, in out-of-the way places.
Because so much of the suffering we attend to is realized by the marginalized, we also aim to reduce that suffering by naming and opposing injustice. And that’s not easy; it often feels like pushing against immovable objects. Take for instance the gift ban for Pennsylvania legislators. Our state is one of only three in the country that permits legal bribery. If you have the means, you can provide any representative with Super Bowl tickets, lavish vacations, or other items of value to help ensure they’ll vote your way on a bill. Sadly, those who offer such gifts are rarely operating on behalf of those in need. Gift ban legislation has been drafted on 33 occasions in the past, but never presented for a vote by those who receive the gifts — imagine that! — despite overwhelming public support. Promoting a gift ban means going up against some of the most entrenched corrupt and selfish forces in government, but groups like March on Harrisburg continue to force the issue.
Sometimes I’m asked whether our pursuit of justice is worth it. Does it really make a difference? Were the efforts of the 75,000 people who participated in the March to End Fossil Fuels in New York City wasted? Do the petitions and letters we send as part of our Intertwined Actions efforts go unread?
It’s hard to see the progress that occurs on a day-to-day basis, but sometimes we’re reminded that we can make a difference. For instance, in September, President Biden suspended oil drilling leases in the Arctic tundra. He didn’t do that in a vacuum; he was convinced by those who spoke out about the harm that such drilling would bring about across the world. More drilling means more fossil fuel burning, which leads to suffering through droughts, illness, rising seas, and more intense disasters. Fossil fuel industry practices result in short-term gain and pleasure for some, similar to the first-century pagan rituals cited in 2 Peter, but they run counter to the message of the gospel, which promises a better future for everyone.
Returning to the scripture passage, Pete reminds their audience that the earth was formed out of water and by means of water, but that it is destined for fire. Pete sees any delay in God’s timetable as being a good thing, because it allows people more time to steer their lives toward the better path. The day of the Lord was an event anticipated going back to the Hebrew prophets, and like those prophets, Pete suggests that people not try to bring it about earlier than is necessary. It will be more than they bargained for.
Biblical accounts about the day of the Lord differ, but Pete says it will come “like a thief,” that “the elements will be destroyed with fire, and the earth and everything that is done on it will be disclosed.”
Is this meant to be taken literally, or will the “new earth” Pete references be a return to God’s good creation with the evil aspects burned away? Some have run with apocalyptic passages from scripture and tried to develop a specific timeline for what the future will bring. I think that exemplifies a certainty that has no place in Christian theology or Biblical interpretation, and has led too many from evangelical backgrounds to grow up in fear of “the rapture.”
Two thousand years later, we know God has a longer timeline than some in the first century anticipated. Pete’s message still resonates, though; the temptation to deviate from the teachings of Jesus and the prophets is always present.
Sadly, one thing that has changed since the first century is our ability to bring widespread, fire-y destruction upon the earth ourselves. The climate catastrophe that is underway might not have seriously affected us yet, but it is certainly affecting millions of our siblings around the world.
That’s where the temptation to stay unengaged comes in, where the “why bother?” sentiment becomes prominent in our minds. The path of minding our own business, focusing on our families, and politely adhering to custom seems the prudent way forward.
And it is. Just as it’s prudent to measure success in terms of numbers and dollars. Just as it’s prudent to live in a house and drive a car that fits our status. Just as it’s prudent to associate with people who look like us and live similar lifestyles.
Why bother deviating from the norm?
Because Jesus did.
Jesus lived far below his means. He often associated with unpalatable people. He positioned himself with the marginalized, and did all he could to improve their lives immediately and systemically.
We, too, are called to follow that different path. And for those of us who come from positions of privilege, we are asked to align ourselves with those who do not. Though it might be for us, for them, inaction is not an option.
Adam Hearlson describes it this way:
“As well-meaning privileged folk, I am asking you to suspend the categories by which you decide what counts as 1) effective resistance and 2) appropriate public behavior. Those with the power to change the circumstances of cultural and social production tend to value productivity and efficiency. Resistance that does not immediately conform to our models of appropriate cultural change is viewed with suspicion. ‘What good will come of that?’ we say. ‘You are doing it all wrong. Let me tell you how to change the world.’ Central to this vision is that the weak must become like the strong in order to change the world. Any tactics that seem redundant, superfluous, anemic, impenetrable, shallow, or crass are waved away as insignificant. . . . Instead of seeing the practices of the weak as rule-bound and predictable, I encourage us to observe subversive practices as restless operations and strategic improvisations of a people within a specific world of power.” (Hearlson, 31)
Many of our siblings across the country and around the world are in desperate circumstances that preclude them from standing by and hoping for change. Climate refugees are fleeing to countries with more moderate temperatures, because our actions have overheated their own land to the point they can no longer grow food. People suffering from medical conditions are testifying in the capitol on behalf of the 1.2 million Pennsylvanians who are about to lose the minimal health care coverage they have. Representatives from small island nations are standing up to the world’s largest polluters with the hope their homes won’t be submerged. They don’t have a choice.
So we bother. We offer meals to those who are hungry, and we also examine systems that cause their hunger. We offer housing to the unhoused, and we shine a spotlight on the affordable housing shortage in our community. We offer tax preparation services to those in the lowest tax bracket, while demanding to know why those in the highest tax bracket often pay no taxes.
We bother. We bother politicians. We bother corporations. We bother to send emails and write letters and march and protest and light candles and pray. We bother to find the better path, to celebrate small victories, and to engage in the actions of love that typically occur quietly and gently, in out-of-the way places.
Many of those acts go unwitnessed, but to the Author of Life, they exemplify what being human is about.
Thanks be to God.
Amen.
Works Referenced
Gafney, Wilda C. A Women’s Lectionary for the Whole Church, Year W. New York City: Church Publishing, 2021.
Hearlson, Adam. The Holy No: Worship as a Subversive Act. Grand Rapids, Michigan: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2018.
Powell, Mark Allan. Introducing the New Testament: A Historical, Literary, and Theological Survey. Grand Rapids, Michigan: Baker Academic, 2018. Kindle edition.
Watson, Duane F. “The Second Letter of Peter.” In New Interpreter’s Bible, Volume X. Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2015.
