Principalities And Powers

February 19th, 2011  |   

The Bible says relatively little about the ultimate source of evil. Rather it concentrates on describing the complexity of our life in this world and, most important of all, God’s ultimate supremacy over all the powers. Scripture describes the realities encountered by people in their life in this world by means of various names, among them the world, the flesh, demons, Satan, angels and the divine council. This includes a variety of evil personages and forces unified under a single head, Satan, who is totally opposed to God and God’s purposes in this world. The Bible also talks about principalities and powers.

                                                                                  R. Paul Stevens

In The Pew Singing A Pub Song

At a funeral service not long ago I stood, with my hymnal in hand, and sang an old warhorse—“A mighty Fortress is Our God.” The music always thrills me and the words always chill me. How could they not, with the reference to “The Prince of Darkness grim” and “the world with devils filled” that “threaten to undo us?”

The hymn was written by Martin Luther in the early 1500s and may have been sung when, at the Diet of Worms, he had to defend his attack on his very own corrupt Church of Rome and the Pope who presided over it.

It’s said that the melody was lifted from a pub drinking song. It may be an apocryphal story, but it’s also said that Luther scheduled morning church service at 11:00 to compensate for his late Saturday nights at the pub. In keeping of course with his words: “It is better to think of church in the ale-house than to think of the ale-house in church.”

The words of the hymn are based on Psalm 46. It’s a favorite of mine. How could it not be? It promises the community of faith that God is present even when “waters rage and foam” and when “the mountains are toppled into the depths of the sea.” The reality expressed in those words connects with the Appalachian experience of watching our mountains stripped for coal and towns flooded as the result of denude hillsides.

“The kingdoms are shaken,” says the Psalmist, but “the Lord of hosts is with us.” Hope is ignited in believers because God “is our stronghold.” The imagination of those in despair is lifted, one might say, on the wings of an Appalachian eagle, by the promise that God intends for “war to cease in all the world.”

The woman whose funeral I attended was Mary Snow, a friend who was once a parishioner of mine here in Charleston. Mary did memorable work for more than 50 years as a teacher and principal (the first black principal after integration).

Celebrating Mary’s life, dead at age 97, I found myself thinking about the connection between being carried down the aisle for baptism as a child and being wheeled down the aisle after a lifetime of service. I thought of how the devil—the Prince of Darkness grim—had managed to squeeze his way into the liturgy on both occasions.

Mary, and countless others down through the ages, myself included, have been baptized into a church committed to renouncing the devil and “all the spiritual forces of wickedness that rebel against God…the evil powers of this world which corrupt and destroy the creatures of God.” That’s a pretty big commitment don’t you think?

In this issue of Notes I want to put some faces on these spiritual forces—the principalities and powers that threaten to undo us. Let’s start with the Not-So-Jolly Green Giant.

The Not-So-Jolly Green Giant

On U.S. Route 169 in Minnesota, outside of Blue Earth, there is a 55-foot statute of the Jolly Green Giant. He looks out over the Minnesota River Valley, the rich soil from which vegetables are picked, processed and packed under the Green Giant label.

Some of you may be able to sing the Green Giant song: “From the valley of the Jolly (Ho-Ho-Ho) Green Giant.” Now let me now introduce you to the Not-So-Jolly Green Giant. He is one of those principalities and powers I’m talking about. He’s the icon of money-gone-wild—capitalism run amuck—corporate greed on the loose—mammon in greenback attire. Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing inherently evil about money. In fact it’s a bad thing when folks don’t have enough money to live on. 

The Green Giant has both creative and destructive capabilities when it comes to financial power. The Bible condemns money only when someone loves money—translate love into lust. Sharing the wealth is healthy. Hoarding it results in a sick society. Surely the Good Samaritan who spent his money for care of the man he found on the side of the road was putting his riches to good use. One might say that the story has something to teach a society that spends its riches on war while refusing to see universal health care as a right.

You might say that the Not-So-Jolly Green Giant lives in Wilmington, Delaware, where more than half-a-million business entities have their legal home. That’s true but they leave a huge footprint wherever they roam. Their ramblings and rumblings reverberate all the way from Wall Street to Main Streets across our land and across the world.

We need to remind ourselves that the “Bernie” Madoffs of the world, as well as the crooked Wall Street bankers and traders, are metastasized manifestations of a more powerful disease. It infects not only individuals but also the systems in which people live and work. The Not-So-Jolly Green Giant invades and infects every system. And those systems generate power that infects individuals and society. It’s like Typhoid Mary in the kitchen infecting everyone in the dining room and all whom they touch.

The Not-So-Jolly Green Giant, however, is not impregnable. His Achilles heel is close to the earth where grassroots movements grow. One need only look at the history of boycotts, protest movements, strikes, and organized community resistance to discover the power of people united. The uprising in Egypt is a good example of how people united can find the spiritual energy to bring down a political Not-So-Jolly Green Giant.

But let’s be clear. Every time the Not-So-Jolly Green Giant goes down he finds a way to return, transformed into a Mole In The Whack-A-Mole Hole.

The Mole In The Whack A Mole Hole

The game is about to begin. You have your padded mallet in hand and suddenly the mole pops up in one of the six holes on the table in front of you. Bop! Down goes the mole. Then up he pops in another hole. Bop! Down again and up again in another hole. It’s enough to drive you crazy because that little mole (for my PETA friends, he’s not a live mole) just won’t stay bopped. He’s like Michael Myers in those Halloween movies. Just when you think you’ve eliminated him, he rises from the dead.

That’s how it goes with the principalities and powers. Racism, for example, is that powerful nasty principality that just keeps on keeping on. Bopping racism is no exercise for the faint-hearted or for folks who lack perseverance. It can be discouraging. Folks get tired, disappointed, and discouraged when this nasty critter makes multiple appearances.

If racism was merely prejudice, we might expect it to disappear when a person sees the light and is converted. But racism has deeper roots than prejudice—meandering roots that entangle all the systems that human beings encounter and are a part of. Principalities and powers are deep-seated and, I might add, well funded. Most important for us to remember is that they have a life of their own and a lifespan longer than any one of us.

Recently I attended a court hearing and then a jail in South Carolina. The courtroom was full of black men, as was the jail. I noticed that a huge addition was being added to that miserable jail. The old saying, “build it and they will come” came to mind. I have been in any number of jails and prisons and I find that to be true. They will come—sentenced by the criminal justice system—and they will overwhelmingly be poor people of color. A society’s racism is on display in the criminal justice systems across the nation.

Folks who don’t like what I’ve just written will accuse me of “playing the race card.” They are right. I have because the race card is right there in the deck. Any way you cut the cards, race will be a factor in the outcome of the game. Racism is America’s original sin and, like the mole in the hole, it will find a way to keep popping up in every aspect of our life together.

When you get right down to it, the only way to keep that mole at bay is to keep on whacking and keep on looking for someone you can pass the mallet to when the time comes. One generation must depend on the next generation for help in this struggle against the principalities that, as Martin Luther put it, “threaten to undo us.” And every time that mole gets bopped back in the hole it’s an occasion for celebration and rededication to what could well be called the ministry of bopping. That is how it’s meant to be for as the hymn says, “God has willed His truth to triumph through us.”

The Shadow

As a kid, one of my favorite radio shows was “The Shadow.” The Shadow was Lamont Cranston. He had “the power to cloud men’s minds so they cannot see him.” That allowed him to sneak up on the bad guys. I can still recall his unmistakable and eerie laugh as he said: “Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? The shadow knows!” At the end of each episode, The Shadow always said these words: “The weed of crime bears bitter fruit. Crime does not pay. The Shadow knows!”

Once again I will remind my readers that principalities and powers have the potential for being both constructive and destructive, life–giving or death-dealing. My radio companion on those evenings when I listened with rapt attention was a constructive life-affirming figure. But the Shadow figure may also be a death-dealing force.

The twenty-third Psalm is often read when someone is troubled, sick or in grief over the death of someone. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death” are words that remind us that we are all doing time, life marked with a border, time spent in the shadow of the Grim Reaper. 

The Shadow of Death, William Holman Hunt’s 19^th century painting, illustrates a profound truth. It depicts Jesus as a young carpenter helping his father. His arms are stretched out so that the shadow cast behind him, takes the form of a crucified man. That shadow falls upon a wooden spar on which carpentry tools are hung. This image serves as a reminder that one’s work is done up against the limits of time, in the shadow of death.

Crucifixion and resurrection, for Christians, signifies death as a way to life. No doubt death destroys, but it is also seen as a phoenix—the mythical bird that symbolizes rebirth. The phoenix, so the story goes, builds a nest of twigs and then sets it ablaze reducing it to ash. Out of the ash a new bird is born to begin life again.

In the musical, The King and I, Anna sings these words: “Whenever I feel afraid I hold my head erect and whistle a happy tune so no one will suspect I’m afraid.” I wonder if the Psalmist wasn’t whistling a happy tune when he or she followed those words about the valley of the shadow of death with these words: I will fear no evil, for thou art with me, thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.”

Perhaps that staff is a mallet for bopping moles back into their holes.  

Some Final Thoughts About The Subject At Hand

·      Hiroshima: The scientists working on the first atomic bomb had good intentions. They felt they were contributing to a possible end to the war with Japan. They enjoyed the camaraderie of men up to their ears in a scientific process never before contemplated. They were excited that it might lead them toward a positive achievement. In the end it led to Hiroshima and Nagasaki, a Cold War battle over nuclear arms, and now a threat of nuclear terrorism. After the mushroom cloud had dispersed, these men had to admit that the project had a life of its own that was headed toward an inevitable conclusion. Like Dr. Frankenstein’s monster, the principality and power unleashed in their creation was beyond the freedom they had exercised in the task. 

·      Military Service: Our military men and women are treated as heroes just for signing up, and particularly for serving in wars they’ve been sent off to fight—as in Iraq and Afghanistan. Their bravery and commitment are never called into question. And occasionally one of them will exemplify courage in more ways than one. Smedley Butler, a Marine, was one of those men. He served for 34 years, won 2 Congressional Medals of Honor, and later spoke at meetings organized by veterans, pacifists and church groups.

In a 1933 speech he said: “War is just a racket. A racket is best described, I believe, as something that is not what it seems to the majority of people. Only a small inside group knows what it is about. It is conducted for the benefit of the very few at the expense of the masses. I spent 33 years and four months in active military service and during that period I spent most of my time as a high-class thug for Big Business, for Wall Street and the bankers. In short, I was a racketeer, a gangster for capitalism. Like all the members of the military profession, I never had a thought of my own until I left the service. My mental faculties remained in suspended animation while I obeyed the orders of higher-ups. This is typical with everyone in the military service.”

·      “How Come” Questions About Egypt & Wisconsin: How come the massive demonstrations now taking place across the Middle East, North Africa and countries like Bahrain and Yemen—inspired by Egypt—are all opposed to the dictatorial and oppressive rulers we support with our military aid? Is Mubarak the only one with blood on his hands?

 

How come so many Americans applaud when the people of Egypt stop work to gather and protest against the government? They shut down the country’s entire financial market. Yet folks get enraged when public workers here at home in Wisconsin refuse to work in protest of a governor who wants to smash unions–a critical player in our democracy? Is it possible that the Egyptian uprising has inspired activists to seize the Kentucky governor’s office in protest of his opposition to EPA regulations against mountaintop removal, and is now inspiring those public workers out there in Wisconsin?

 

·      Back To Martin Luther: I began this issue of Notes with inspiring words from Martin Luther—words directed at the church he dearly loved. The church, like any principality and power, was in need of being challenged because it had become an instrument of the grim “Prince of Darkness.” This is a reminder that the most cherished institutions we love must always be called to renewal and rebirth—as hard as the task may be. That goes for the church today, under its own Babylonian Captivity. Now, here’s the zinger: Those who challenge the principalities and powers must also be aware that they also may come under the influence of the principalities and powers they fight so hard to oppose.  Case in point—Luther and the Jews.

       At the beginning of Luther’s career he had a positive attitude toward Jews. He was critical of the ways Christians treated Jews and he did not fear speaking out about it. But three years before his death he said that synagogues and schools should be burned down, Jewish homes destroyed, Jewish prayer books confiscated, and that Jews should be stripped of their money and put into forced labor. One must shudder remembering Kristallnacht in Nazi Germany and the way Goebbels and other Nazis embraced Luther’s ugly words.

Ashes From The Federal Budget For Ash Wednesday

As we come up on Ash Wednesday and the beginning of the penitential season of Lent, I think back to a service I once held in Ann Arbor. Church members gathered on the University of Michigan campus and, instead of using ashes from burned Palm Sunday palms, I burned portions of the United States Budget directed toward military aid supporting our covert war in Central America. Placing a bit of ash on people’s forehead I said the traditional words, “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return.”  

I’m thinking about leading a similar service here in Charleston to call attention to the dust and ashes that exist from the exploitation of our mountains, the ashes left behind by an economy that leaves the poor victims of the rich, and the money and lives burned from the war in Iraq and Afghanistan. The liturgy will be an invitation for us to turn from and reject the principalities and powers that corrupt our individual lives and the life of our nation.

The liturgy must also include a prayer for the people who bear the ash on their foreheads.  It will be a plea to God for the grace and the power to resist the principalities and powers without falling prey to them. It must end with the anticipation of a celebration wherever and whenever the phoenix takes flight from the ashes of a burned out world.  

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