George of Sylvania

Tag: God

  • Jude, the Saint of Despair

    Jude, the Saint of Despair

    John 15:17-27:

    Jesus said to his disciples, “I am giving you these commands so that you may love one another.

    “If the world hates you, be aware that it hated me before it hated you. If you belonged to the world, the world would love you as its own. Because you do not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world– therefore the world hates you. Remember the word that I said to you, ‘Servants are not greater than their master.’ If they persecuted me, they will persecute you; if they kept my word, they will keep yours also. But they will do all these things to you on account of my name, because they do not know him who sent me. If I had not come and spoken to them, they would not have sin; but now they have no excuse for their sin. Whoever hates me hates my Father also. If I had not done among them the works that no one else did, they would not have sin. But now they have seen and hated both me and my Father. It was to fulfill the word that is written in their law, ‘They hated me without a cause.’

    “When the Advocate comes, whom I will send to you from the Father, the Spirit of truth who comes from the Father, he will testify on my behalf. You also are to testify because you have been with me from the beginning.”

    Saint Jude is the patron saint for lost causes, impossible situations and despair. It is a hard time for those of us who don’t believe empathy is a sin. When holding all that has happened in Minneapolis, thinking about Keith Porter Jr being murdered by immigration customs and enforcement, the horrific details in the newly released Epstein files, I needed to think about, and create space for despair for a bit.

    When I read this Gospel passage, which is specific in the lectionary to St. Simon and St. Jude (who both share the martyrdom on 10/28), it really had my mind going. See, when I read of Jesus in this passage talking about not being of this world my context, historically, of this passage is much different than what I believe now.

    For a long time I feared the idea of the day of judgment, specifically because of the language around it. I grew up around the apocalyptic concept of fire, brimstone, etc., but then I found out that apocalypse literally means uncovering in Greek, as in, learning something new. When I found this out, I dove deeper into the Jewish roots of Christianity. Because of this new information, I was deeply curious about what this day of judgment would mean. After some time, I became much more comfortable.

    The idea of the day of judgement, is the work of God setting things right, the way they were supposed to be.

    It is creating justice in an unjust world, and for those of us who seek justice, who seek the safety of others, who seek after the words of Jesus, it really isn’t a scary thing. Sure, there are aspects of our lives where we are continuing to hone and align the way we believe with how we live our daily life, but on the whole, the setting of things in their correct manner shouldn’t be that scary.

    When we strip down the concept of wanting to live in a world where everyone is safe, no one has to worry about food, healthcare, being othered, bombs, and genocide as seen in Sudan and Gaza to name a few. These things that make us feel fear in our daily lives, these systematic issues that cause us to live into despair. As I sit with this, I feel connected to the despair that St. Jude is the patron saint of. It’s not hard right now to let those feelings consume us, but cynicism is easy.

    Then I remember, despair is easy.

    Hope, love, and taking care of one another in community is hard.

    It takes bravery to love someone.

    It takes bravery to stand up for someone.

    It takes almost nothing to cast someone aside, and not only deny their humanity, but the image of God that is interwoven through their very being.

    So when I read and sit with the part in Luke where Jesus says, if the world hates you, be aware that it hated me before it hated you, my mind goes to the lie that is christian nationalism. Those I have heard prosecution stories loudest, come from those that uphold white Jesus. And we know that they cannot be the people Jesus is talking about here.

    May you find some hope in these words my friends.

    Grace and peace.

  • A Country of Their Own

    A Country of Their Own

    This post was originally scheduled for next week, but considering the climate, I thought I’d move it up a bit.

    In late fall of 2025 I decided during my quiet time in the mornings to start reading Hebrews. The truth is, I don’t think I have looked at it, or thought much of it since I preached on chapter 11 back in 2013, so it seemed like a good time to read it. I had been trying to find a part of the Christian Bible to check out after burning through Amos, James, Exodus, and some other random parts.

    When I was reading Amos, it was when there seemed to be a push by Isr**l to continue in committing war crimes by murdering journalists and medical workers in Gaza. A push that has been successful as I am sure most of us, unless we are intentionally looking, are unaware of the many times they have continued to murder innocent people in Gaza during this “ceasefire.” I bring this up because I have written in my margins how sitting with the words of Amos and the actions in that land made me want to vomit.

    This has happened a few times in the past few years, reading something in the text I hold central to my religious beliefs, and looking at the world around me, local and internationally. The Ending Crime and Disorder on American Streets executive order comes to mind, where the president criminalized being unhoused while evangelicals and christian nationalists defend something Jesus would have pushed back on.

    This week I was reading Hebrews 11 and I came upon this passage:

    All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from from a distance, admitting that they were foreigners and strangers on earth. People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own… they were longing for a better country–a heavenly one.

    — Hebrews 11:13-16ish (NIV)

    For so long, people have come to the United States looking for a country of their own. It is how my family got here, and I guarantee how yours did too. So far this year there have been six confirmed deaths in ICE detention centers, one of which was a homicide, and as of Saturday they murdered another innocent person:

    • Alex Jeffrey Pretti, 1/24, homicide
    • Heber Sanchaz Domínguez, 1/14
    • Victor Manuel Diaz, 1/14
    • Parady La, 1/9
    • Renee Good, 1/7, homicide
    • Luis Beltran Yanez–Cruz, 1/6
    • Luis Gustavo Nunez Caceres, 1/5
    • Geraldo Lunas Campos, 1/3, homicide

    What ICE has been doing in our streets to our neighbors, citizens or not, is nothing short of terrorism. Using fear, intimidation, and unlawful violence against citizens as a political means is almost literally the definition of terrorism in the Oxford Dictionary. Many people have pointed out this is how white people have acted against Black Americans throughout our history is exactly correct. This is masked terrorism supported by our countries love of white supremacy, and the inability to quit it.

    What is happening is not normal in America for white people, which is why this is so jarring for most of us. I saw an Instagram reel today of friend of mine, who is a Palestinian activist rightfully lamenting the people now wanting to show up. It is a similar thing I have seen time and again when white people start to realize that the systems of violence we have upheld because they’ve been good for us start to turn on us.

    It is never too late to show up for your neighbors, and I urge you to do it now.

    It is hard work, and it takes a toll. But there are many ways we can do it, what I beg you to do, is not turn your eyes away again. Do not harden your heart once ICE is abolished, because this is only the beginning of the work needing to be done. We have the opportunity to make our corners of the world a heavenly country for all, if we choose to do this long term hard work.

    Stay safe out there friends.

  • Bitter is the Mouth

    Bitter is the Mouth

    About six months ago, I purchased a bottle of Absinthe because, for some unknown reason, I thought it was a good idea. It had been at least a decade since I had tried it, and it did not go down very well. The wormwood in the drink, if you have never had it, leaves an incredibly bitter taste in your mouth if you don’t mix the properly. The other day, as I sat drinking my morning coffee, I was wondering what mixture of mouthwash/seltzer water/whatever I had that is now leaving this similar taste in my mouth.

    That’ll flavor combination will wake you up.

    As I am sipping this, I have been working my way through the prophet Amos in my morning quiet time. This reading of the prophet has been compounding some outlying frustration. A genocide has been broadcasting in real time, in spite of murdering journalists, in Palestine for those of us paying attention. Children, and people of all ages have been intentionally starved, and the footage of it will leave a mark. Kids, and others, have been murdered while waiting in line for water, food, etc. The intentional cruelty, and war crimes committed is an abomination.

    So reading through Amos, seeing this massacre play out in real time over the past 18 months and all of it taking place in the region the prophet is talking about has brought a new flavor to the text. For about a week, Amos 5:7 (NIV) has had its claws in me, “There are those who turn justice into bitterness and cast righteousness to the ground.” I have been meditating on this, and it has like a stick in my craw, but I couldn’t figure out why.

    There is the obvious tug at what Amos is saying on face value, but I decided to check out the Apostolic Polyglot, an interlinear literal Greek-English of the Christian Bible. When I read it, and it made no sense, I looked to the New Oxford Annotated Bible. It is just a fancier version of the New Revised Standard Version, which reads:

    “Ah, you that turn justice to wormwood, and bring righteousness to the ground!”

    There it is, the stick in my craw.

    The verse in the New International Version was too nice for me. Bitterness can be a variety of things. I love lemons, and they can be bitter as hell. But you know what, wormwood will make almost anyone gag!

    Every time we read or see what has been happening in Palestine, Sudan, and to the Uyghurs, we should taste wormwood in our mouths.

    Every time we read about those fighting against releasing the Epstein client list, we should taste wormwood in our mouths.

    Every time we see another mass shooting in the news, we should taste wormwood in our mouths.

    Every time we see or hear reports of ICE agents snatching people off of the streets, we should taste wormwood in our mouths.

    Every time we see military personnel being mobilized against citizens, we should taste wormwood in our mouths.

    In fascism, there is no peace. There is no peace without reconciliation. There is no reconciliation without justice. There is no justice in attempting to control others. Control is void of love, and without love, God can be incredibly difficult to find.

    It may seem like nothing, but speaking about what is going on may help wake people up. Going on the record and contacting your representatives is called slow activism for a reason, but it is worth doing. If you have not tried 5 Calls yet, follow the link, and use it for good.

    Everyone has to start somewhere, and I hope the bitter taste in your mouth that the Trump administration has helped bring about in the past eight months spurs you into action.

    Grace and peace.