The Task of Public Theology: Sweeping Clean an Increasingly Haunted House
Elaine and I returned a few days ago from a week back east, where we visited beloved elders in New England, then participated in a Public Theology & Public Policy Conference hosted by our friends Bishop William Barber and Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove at Yale Divinity School.
It was good to catch up with colleagues we rarely see, connect with new co-conspirators committed to “integrating seminary, sanctuary and streets” (as we like to say), and build the faith and justice movement in this critical time (right, Ched gives a Bible study on Luke 12:15-21).
Two weeks before that gathering I’d gotten a call from Dr. Barber, who wanted to discuss what text he might preach about at the conference’s opening session. After thinking together about public theology as the work of “exorcising Principalities and Powers,” we considered Jesus’s strange parable in Luke 11 about vanquishing one demon only to have seven more return (on this see HARP, pp. 112-118; or HHH, pp. 40-41). Bishop and I talked for an hour, outlining how we might read U.S. history through the lens of this powerful gospel metaphor. After all, though our “house/body politic” has been consistently occupied by “unclean spirits” since its inception, some of these have been exorcised by popular social movements of faith and conscience (Reconstruction and the Southern Freedom movement for example). Yet because such “cleansings” were only partial, the house was re-occupied by even more virulent demons—from Jim Crow to our current historical moment of fascist white nationalist plutocracy.
In hopes that you might find time to watch or listen to how this masterful preacher presented this exposition, here’s a link (courtesy of the “Our Moral Moment” substack) to the hour-long invocation Barber delivered. His challenge to become “deep cleaners of our national house” was not only the framing theme for our deliberation and strategizing. It is a call to discipleship I strongly commend to us all.
For yesterday’s 3rd Sunday of Easter, the Year A lectionary swung away from Matthew’s gospel, offering instead the first half of Luke’s Emmaus Road story of the Risen Jesus (Lk 24:13-35). I believe this singular epilogue to the empty tomb tradition speaks to our condition as a poignant portrait of bewildered disciples struggling to survive war and genocide, who Jesus teaches to reread the scriptures through the lens of prophetic faith.
Unfortunately, most of our churches would have missed that (as did the service I attended)—because this story has been so profoundly sentimentalized (following artistic traditions such as the one at right). If you’re looking for an antidote, here’s an article I wrote twenty years ago—or you can read HARP Chapter One!
If you want to order Throughlines: Resources for Facilitation and Group Study of Healing Haunted Histories but missed last month’s deal, contact Elaine for a discount code! Because only a critically honest look at our past can reveal the hauntings of the present and animate us to engage the multiple crises of right now. And a reminder about two opportunities to hear Ched talk about HARP: John Dear’s audio interview last month on his Nonviolent Jesus podcast; and Ched’s presentation to a Catholic Worker audience here.
Finally, we urge you all to be active in Earth Day celebrations/actions this week! In that vein, look for our upcoming BCM Enews, where we’ll be celebrating the tenth anniversary of the publication of Watershed Discipleship: Reinhabiting Bioregional Faith and Practice.
–Eastertide blessings, Ched
