Parables, Parabolas, and Curveballs

We find ourselves living into parables these days Our Sunday morning readings from Matthew’s gospel retell Jesus’s stories for five consecutive weeks–and eight weeks out of ten. Parables are stories that tell the truth—by an indirect path. The storyteller helps the reader/listener break down complex principles like economic theories, legal arrangements, moral absolutes, or spiritual truths. The Greek word Greek παραβολή (parabolē), means “a setting aside” or “a comparison which has passed into common use.” A more clinical definition from Kittel’s Theological Dictionary of the New Testament defines parables in the secular Greek tradition as “a more-or-less developed comparison in which two things or processes from different fields are set side by side so that in virtue of the similarity the unknown may be elucidated from the known[1].” Thus, Jesus taught, “The Kingdom of Heaven is like…”

My favorite definition of a parable is that it’s a curveball—delivered in words and story.

[2]

Think of a parable’s Greek cousin, the parabola. A parabola is the curve or arc of a ball that is influenced by wind and gravity. Shoot an arrow and it travels upward but curves back toward earth as the forces of nature take command of the arrow’s trajectory. That upward and downward curve is a parabola. In this way, parables, parabolas, and curveballs have much in common. The pitcher grips the baseball differently than a fastball when throwing a curveball. The grip is disguised behind the pitcher’s glove so that the batter doesn’t see what’s coming. With a snap of the wrist, the curving path of the parabola fools the batter’s expectations. The arc of a good parable is found in how the storyteller snaps a “head-scratching” curveball past the hearer.

A modern parable by an unknown source that’s been going around these days involves a doctor and his terminally ill patient. It goes like this:

As he was preparing to leave the examination room the dying man said, “Doctor, I am afraid to die. Tell me what lies on the other side.”

Very quietly, the doctor said, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? You, a Christian man, do not know what is on the other side?”

The doctor was holding the handle of the door; on the other side of which came a sound of scratching and whining. As he opened the door, a dog sprang into the room and leaped on him with an eager show of gladness.

Turning to the patient, the doctor said, “Did you notice my dog? He’s never been in this room before. He didn’t know what was inside. He knew nothing except that his master was here, and when the door opened, he sprang in without fear.”

“I know little of what is on the other side of death, but I do know one thing…I know my Master is there and that is enough.  And when the door opens, I shall pass through with no fear, but with gladness.”

The parable draws meaning from an experience we know—a visit to a doctor, a conversation about life and death, and the loyalty and devotion of an animal to its master. Like the terminally ill man in the story, we know little of death, except the promises of scripture, creed, and a church that has cradled us in the faith. This is not to say that we are dogs, or that heaven will look like a doctor’s office—no. The point of the story is about faith and trust in an eternity that lies beyond the limits of our imagination. The story honors doubt, and curves a parabola of meaning that unexpectedly strikes the middle of the target. Or like a good curveball, a parable appears to be a fastball “down the middle of the (dinner) plate” only to “drop off the table” at the last moment.

Parables are not unique to Judeo-Christian culture. When the snow falls in northern Minnesota, it is time for elder Ojibwe storytellers to speak of Naniboozoo (variously spelled), a trickster of sorts, who tosses parabolic curveballs like other tricksters of ethnic lore[3]. Br’er Rabbit emerged from African-American storytelling, in the Uncle Remus tradition. The rabbit was a “creative way that the slave community responded to the oppressor’s failure to address them as human beings created in the image of God[4].” Wiry and quick while seemingly weak and cuddly, Br’er Rabbit’s model of civil disobedience against the slaveholders became an archetype in Negro mythology. The Irish have their Leprechauns, Arabian genies trick us with their three wishes, and the Crow crops up in Australian Aboriginal mythology. Heck, Norwegian-Americans have Ole & Sven! Circling back to Judeo-Christian myth, Jacob “tricks” his brother Esau out of his birthright, and his father Isaac’s blessing. In many cultures and contexts, parables tell the truth with wry humor, self-deprecating charm, and razor-sharp insights that dismantle power schemes and profit motives.

Unlike a riddle, the purpose or meaning of a parable is meant to be plain and clear, yet baffling us enough to keep us thinking all the way back to the dugout—or on our journey home long after leaving church. Parables need not be religious, or found in the Bible, yet the best-known parables are often the stories attributed to Jesus. Over the coming weeks, we will continue to hear Jesus teach us through the masterful delivery of these profound curveballs aimed at our understanding of God’s will for us, and our neighbors. Enjoy the stories.

Matthew’s Parables of Jesus

9/17      The Unforgiving Servant (18:21-35)

9/24       Workers in the Vineyard (20:1-16)

10/1       The Two Sons (21:23-32)

10/8       The Wicked Tenants (21:33-46)

10/15     The Great Banquet (22:1-14)

11/9       The Ten Bridesmaids (25:1-13)

11/16     The Talents (25:14-30)

11/26     Sheep and the Goats (25:31-46)

 

Miigwetch,

Pastor Mark

[1] Johnston, Basil (1995). The Manitous, The Spiritual World of the Ojibway. St. Paul, MN: MN Historical Society Press.

[2] Earl, Riggins R., Jr. (1993). Dark Symbols, Obscure Signs: God, Self, And Community In The Slave Mind. Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books.

[3] Kittel, Gerhard (1967). Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, Vol 5. Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans.

[4] https://www.kchitter.com/curveball-clinics-2/

Where Do I Stand On Standing Rock?

Introduction and Invitation

I serve the Episcopal faith communities located on the Leech Lake Reservation in Northern Minnesota. The Leech Lake flag, pictured above, flies alongside over 320 flags from indigenous nations that have come from all four corners of our continent and the world. I also serve alongside brothers and sisters in the Minnesota Committee on Indian Work (MCIW). At a recent MCIW meeting, Bishop Brian Prior urged us to coordinate any activity/action/response to the escalating conflict surrounding the Dakota Access Pipeline through Rev. John Floberg, the Episcopal priest who serves three congregations on the Standing Rock Reservation.

Following that sage advice, I contacted John. We shared emails, texts, phone conversations, and in this age of social media, we “friended” each other on Facebook. Shortly thereafter, John sent out a call for 100 clergy to join what has become known as “Clergy Standing with Standing Rock” on social media. Clergy from Methodist churches, Jewish synagogues, Muslim mosques, Catholic cathedrals, and other houses of prayer began making their way to the Standing Rock Reservation.

Arrival Amid Renewed Friendships

We began to arrive on November 3rd by planes, trains, and automobiles from all over the United States, Canada, and the world. I arrived in my pickup truck, pulling our family camper. The Oceti Sakowin Camp was in lockdown from direct action that occurred earlier that morning, when Water Protectors led an action across the river. Later I would find out that several protectors were shot with rubber bullets during this action, including a journalist covering the protest, and at least two officers turned in their badges, according to numerous sources.

When the gates opened to the camp, I was greeted by Rev. Benjamin Morris who serves as the campus pastor at the University of Wisconsin-La Crosse. Ben and several students from the college had been camping out at the Oceti camp for several days prior to my arrival. You can read more about Ben’s experience here, particularly this quote from his reflection: “The Native Leadership was calling me to fulfill the command of Jesus, they were calling me to fulfill my ordination vows. The Standing Rock movement was calling me to be a Christian.”

Eight years ago Ben spent his internship year on the Leech Lake Reservation, where it was my privilege to work alongside Rev. Harold Eaglebull and members of St. John’s Episcopal Mission in the village of Onigum. A cheerful moment in our time together, was when Harold, Ben and I reunited briefly enough to share a photo..

I was pleased to see that Ben continues to live and serve by many of the principles of accompaniment that he came to learn during his time among the Leech Lake Band of Ojibwe. Together, we had an opportunity to bear witness to those principles when we were interviewed by Marshall Lee for a viral post that has already collected over 26,000 views.

Eventually, I found a place to park my camper, alongside the banks of the river, at the edge of a meadow where horses grazed, and new friends were made across community campfires.

One neighboring Cubs fan from Chicago would join me later that night by the open window of my truck. Together we listened to the thrilling tenth inning of Game Seven of the World Series on the radio. The campsite would become a welcome place of conversation as I listened to other voices, and began to process what was occurring around me. Also, is was a place of beauty. The unseasonably mild temperatures helped us enjoy our surroundings while other clergy benefitted from safe travel conditions to a region known for drifting snow and sub-zero wind chill temperatures in early November.

Marching Orders

As the travelling preachers descending on Standing Rock, Rev. John gathered us together at a local Canon Ball gymnasium, where we received our marching orders and instructions from local indigenous leaders. By the time John addressed the growing crowd, over 400 clergy, representing over 20 different faith traditions had registered for the event.

All who registered were required to check a box in agreement with this central premise: “I will act and behave within the expected boundaries set forth by the Chairman and the Elders of the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe.” We arrived at the invitation, discretion, and direction of local leadership.

One does not have to search history very long to find the scars left by Christian leaders who came to this country uninvited, with a desire to discover, tell, teach, lead, evangelize, and proclaim the virtues of Christ’s teachings. The problem was that Christ’s teachings became perverted by the Manifest Destiny of Christendom. Papal Bulls, like Nicholas V’s Romanus Pontificus which gave Christian explorers papal license “to invade, search out, capture, vanquish, and subdue all Saracens and pagans whatsoever, and other enemies of Christ.” This sort of language has become known as the Doctrine of Discovery, a legal principle that continues to have legal precedent in American courts, dating to the landmark decision, Johnson v. M’Intosh.

One of the many reasons we came to Standing Rock was to renounce and repudiate this doctrine as “fundamentally opposed to the gospel of Jesus Christ and as a violation of the inherent human rights that all individuals and peoples have received from God.” That language is taken from a resolution passed by the World Council of Churches (WCC), and passed by several of the Christian denominations represented by the gathering of clergy at Standing Rock.

The March

Clergy gathered on Thursday morning, Nov. 3, at the Sacred Fire in the Oceti Sakowin Camp to make our peaceful, prayerful, and nonviolent witness to the ongoing conflict over the Dakota Access Pipeline. John Floberg announced that 524 clergy had registered for the event–one for every year since Columbus’ arrival in 1492. In a symbolic gesture of repudiation, representatives of the denominations that have passed the WCC resolution took turns reading paragraphs from the resolution. In turn, copies of the Doctrine of Discovery were given to elders from several tribal communities on site, who burned their copies.

2.

Then, we began our march to the protest site.

ibid.

The site of the protest was on Highway 1806, on the edge of a blockaded bridge that separated the protesters from law enforcement, and the pipeline worksite. A variety of testimonials and speeches were offered, interspersed with song and prayer. From the Episcopal faith tradition which I serve, Rev. Stephanie Spellers led us in “Wade in the Water.”

ibid.

Woody Star, father of Deacon Terry Star, also spoke to our gathering. Terry died unexpectedly at age 40 in 2014, while attending classes at Nashotah House Theological Seminary in Wisconsin. His home congregation was St. James Episcopal Church. Standing Rock was his earthly home.

ibid.

Finally, as our last act of solidarity across faith traditions, the clergy formed a Niobrara Circle, where we slowly and deliberately worked our way around the circle while sharing God’s peace with one another. Elders and protectors from Standing Rock looked on from a nearby bluff.

3.

After the circle was concluded, clergy ate sandwiches and apples pulled from brown paper bags. We ate together in the grass ditches alongside Highway 1806–a multitude of faith traditions and cultures–breaking bread. Then, it was time to go home.

Homecoming to Leech Lake

I intended to stay another day, and return Friday, Nov. 4th, but the pressing needs on our Leech Lake Reservation pulled me away from the Standing Rock Reservation. Ministry here does not stop as church members here seek help in navigating conflicted relationships, and nonprofit organizations struggle to meet demands on our own reservation. In Leech Lake, we are pulled in many directions in a way that lacks the clarity of what seems to be happening to our friends and neighbors on Standing Rock. In some ways, I envy their focused attention, and shared witness.

But before I turn my full attention to increasing emails, text messages, Facebook posts, and phone messages, I wanted to share some common ground that might speak to those who have trouble understanding what a stand at Standing Rock might mean for them, or for our future.

Watershed Moment

In the Marshall Lee interview above, I said that we are at a “watershed moment” literally, as the human community turns its attention to the Missouri River Watershed. Movements like the one I witnessed this past week have led to the creation of Child Labor Laws, the formation of unions, advances in civil rights, and the dismantling of unjust structures. Humanitarian groups like the United Nations and Amnesty International  have begun monitoring and reporting human rights abuses occurring at Standing Rock.

Denominational bodies are moving from the rather tepid statement by ELCA Presiding Bishop Elizabeth Eaton, which states, “I recognize there are people of deep faith on all sides of this issue with varied perspectives”  to a more prophetic approach, witnessed by ECUSA Presiding Bishop Michael Curry. Curry said:

“I stand with the people of Standing Rock in their efforts to respect and protect the Missouri River. We know that the right to clean water is an internationally recognized human right and that all too often indigenous communities, other people of color, and our most vulnerable communities throughout the world are the ones most at risk of losing access to clean water.  As we join the people of Standing Rock, we also recognize that their stand is one that joins the fight for racial justice and reconciliation with climate justice and caring for God’s creation as a matter of stewardship.”

Conservative voices, even within North Dakota have also begun calling for restraint and perspective as the conflict over the pipeline grows. Former GOP Lieutenant Governor Lloyd Omdahl recently offered this editorial in the Grand Forks Herald, writing:

“If we had treated Native Americans fairly, paid for the land, delivered on promises, kept the treaties and provided the same programs as given whites, we would have receptive friends with whom we could negotiate.”

Moving away from fossil fuels makes economic sense for conservative thinkers and liberal thinkers, alike. Green energy is seen as something vaguely suspicious by many conservatives who debunk global warming and the evidence of climate change. Rather, we should be looking at “Green as the new Red, White, and Blue,” to quote bestselling author and Pulitzer Prize winning New York Times columnist Thomas Friedman. Friedman argues that “the greenest country is going to own ET (environmental technology), and the country that owns ET is going to be the country with the most energy security, economic security, and–I think–national security.” In short, going green makes all the sense in the world.

The New York Times Editorial Board advocates crossing over this watershed:

A pipeline may well be the most profitable and efficient way to move a half-million barrels of crude oil a day across the Plains. But in a time of oil gluts and plummeting oil prices, is it worth it? Is it worth the degradation of the environment, the danger to the water, the insult to the heritage of the Sioux?

The time has come to follow the Standing Rock Sioux, and their proud heritage, over this watershed. We can all find room on the not-too-distant shore. After visiting the people, listening to the young Water Protectors, and wise Elders, this is where I want to stand. There is room enough for the whole human community to stand with our neighbors on this Rock. There is enough room here, for you.

 

Photo credits:

1.Mike McCleary, Bismarck Tribune, 11/4/16

2. Lynette Wilson, Episcopal New Service, 11/4/16

3. Ritchie Two Bulls

 

The Art of Fielding in a League of Nations

The Art of Fielding in a League of Nations.