Tom's Miskito Mission

Ortega Sweet on Gaddafi?

A short article on the front page of the Nicaraguan newspaper Diario La Prensa caught my eye yesterday, the 28th of February. The headline read, "Ortega's Thing With Libya is Personal."  I will translate it below, and then tell you about where it took my thoughts as I contemplated what God might be thinking concerning all these things as He looks down upon the affairs of men.

"We Nicaraguans cannot make common cause with a dictator who is wiping out his people," declared Monsignor Silvio Báez, Auxiliary Bishop of Managua and member of the Episcopal Conference of Nicaragua.
The prelate said that if  president Daniel Ortega has shown solidarity with Libyan dictator Moammar Gaddafi, he should clarify if he does so for reasons of personal friendship or out of State interest, but reiterated that he doesn't believe that Nicaraguans can show solidarity with a government when it has wounded its own people, just like Somoza did when he ordered the bombing of  León, Masaya, Estelí, and Managua in 1979.
"One must differentiate between the interests of the State and personal friendship," said Báez.

It is implicit but obvious nonetheless, that what Daniel Ortega responds to in the person of Moammar Gaddafi is that he was a charismatic leader who seized power riding a wave of popular support, declaring his opposition to the caucasian global powers who were widely perceived by the populace to be oppressors. Ortega sees himself in the same light and loves to harken back to the glorious revolution even as he engineers his hand-picked Supreme Court's approval of his FLSN candidacy for the next presidential elections in direct violation of the Nicaraguan constitution. Daniel and Moammar are kindred spirits.

Beside my newspaper is a Nicaraguan Museum Guide, published by the Nicaraguan Tourist Institute, which had been left on the coffee table in our villa at the Laguna de Apoyo. Interspersed between presentations of museums of art, archeology, and of coffee, are those which honor the history of the 1979 revolution, such as the "Commander Carlos Fonseca Birthplace Museum." As I flip through the pages, I can't help but feel that these are indeed legitimate places of interest for anyone who would care to know about Nicaragua from a Nicaraguan perspective. It can't be denied that the sentiment shared by a preponderance of Nicarguans in those heady days was overwhelmingly for the overthrow of the Somoza family, a dynasty who openly viewed both the land and its people as their "Hacienda." Anastacio "Tachito" Somoza was certainly a satanic, evil person, supported for years by the United States government, who was overthrown on account of the multiplicity of his acts of cruelty against his own people. Daniel Ortega was one of those who led the charge and, through a murky process -some of whose details remained hidden in people's hearts (but the Lord saw them and allowed them to occur)- got to sit in Somoza's seat.  His mere presence at the forefront of a struggle against injustice and unrighteousness, however, did not automatically bestow upon him the qualities of righteousness and justice. Only time would reveal the contents of his heart.

From the pulpit of Nicaragua's largest newspapers on a Monday in 2011, Monsignor Báez courageously points out a certain truth: Like Gaddafi, Daniel Ortega is well on his way toward showing himself to embody the very thing that he thought he would obliterate through the use of weapons, and that by no means the preponderance of Nicaraguans will, of their own volition, celebrate his messianic self-image and mission. In the end a leader is judged not by having opposed injustice in others, nor by defending an economic ideology of the right or the left, but by how selflessly he has pastored his own flock.

My reflections on this article do not end there. I turn also to an uneasiness I have long felt with the alliance between the theologically conservative American church (to which I claim membership) and American political conservatism (with which I sometimes have issue). I know that the Christian constituency in the United States is cheering for the popular throngs seeking to topple the Libyan dictator in the streets of Tripoli, just as I am, because we believe that Gaddafi is an unjust and oppressive ruler. We stand on the side of God against injustice and oppression. The fact that Gaddafi has, from the beginning, declared himself to be an enemy of the United States, makes it a lot easier for us to root against him, even though we are uncertain whether those who would take his place will want to be our friends or not. If this is so, why didn't mainstream American Christians then or even now celebrate the overthrow of Somoza? Is it merely because Somoza was a "friend" of the United States? How could we “make common cause with a dictator who is wiping out his people," as Monsignor Báez stated it? Wouldn't that be just as wrong as Daniel Ortega's hypocritical solidarity with Gaddafi?

If we see ourselves first as citizens of heaven, and secondly as citizens of the United States, shouldn't we recognize that He, as the Lord of the Whole Earth, cares for a broader constituency than those of any single country, and that self-interest cannot be our foundational principle? Wouldn't we also agree that a policy of uprightness toward God is a superior standard, and as such ultimately in the best interests of our own country?

When God gave the Law to Moses, he gave him not just rules for Jews, but also principles of human conduct that he expects us to follow today. "Thou shalt not kill" has not been abolished simply because it is in the "Law." In Exodus 23:1-2 He says:

You shall not bear a false report; do not join your hand with a wicked man to be a malicious witness. You shall not follow the masses in doing evil, nor shall you testify in a dispute so as to turn aside after a multitude in order to pervert justice..."

As one of God's ambassadors to Honduras and Nicaragua for many years, I am charged to care for the citizens of these countries even as God cares for them. I don't claim to know all the dark secrets kept in the corridors of power, nor do I consider myself capable of making specific foreign policy decisions without full knowledge of these things. Nevertheless I am eyewitness to the fact that our Born-Again President, Jimmy Carter's abrupt and principled withdrawal  of support to Anastacio Somoza, followed by our Christian President Ronald Reagan's subsequent reversal of US foreign policy, both contributed to prolonged bloodshed, ultimately resulting in greater poverty and suffering for the citizens of Nicaragua. Ultimately, the solution is in the hands of Nicaraguans themselves, that they would turn to God. In 1978, Nicaraguans boasted of their superiority to their more impoverished brothers in Honduras. Now they don't talk so loud ... now they don't seem so proud ... about having to be scrounging their next meal.

So what do I conclude? I declare myself to be a patriotic American, for Nicaragua as God is for Nicaragua. I believe that it is not by might, nor by power, but by God's Spirit that Nicaragua, Libya, and every other nation might be truly liberated. My duty is to do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly before God, suffering hardship (denying self-interest) as a good soldier of Christ Jesus, and not "entangling myself in the affairs of everyday life" (this means maintaining Christ focus instead of adopting a political one; it doesn't mean refraining from sober social comment and compassionate action in the everyday lives of others), so I may please the one who enlisted me as a soldier.     

   


   

Che vs J

 
  

October 9th marks the anniversary of the death of Ernesto Che Guevara. Jesus is still alive.

If I recall correctly, the first time I ever heard the name Che Guevara was in 1969, at the Vietnam Moratorium rally in Washington D.C. I was just 19 and I didn’t know what the heck I was doing there. Che appeared to me through the smoke and the tear gas as in a vision, looking like a sexier version of Jesus--it was the famous Korda photograph silkscreened in red on a black t-shirt. All the people were saying: “Che Guevara, he’s like Jesus, only cool.” 

I had been to Woodstock and I’d thought that was cool. All of a sudden people were telling me that there were two kinds of longhairs--the “peace and love” kind and “politically responsible” kind--and that merely dropping out of the system wasn’t good enough. I was convicted ... I was definitely peace and love. Until then the word “responsible” had meant “get a job,” or “get married,” or do any one of a number of traditional things that weren’t very appealing. Here now was a brand new opportunity, a way to get responsible that was exciting: run around in the streets of the nation’s capitol, dodging tear gas canisters and yelling things like “pig” at the cops so that the children of poor people didn’t have to die in Southeast Asia. Somehow it all had to do with Che Guevara, the new icon for cool, socially responsible people. Che was like Jesus. His good works were a cool way of being justified.

I was too immature (and way too high) to judge the morality of this line of thought or analyze the events of the day very deeply. It’s not that I was oblivious to things like poverty and struggle, however. I had spent a good chunk of my childhood in Puerto Rico before the Alliance for Progress wiped out the back-time, owner-built slums like El Fanguito to create modern, government subsidized ones. I had seen third world style poverty up close, walked around La Perla, and partaken of forbidden things like piraguas and pastelillos sold by street vendors. Though a son of privilege I had played with poor kids in their shanty homes down at the bottom of the hill and shared whatever I had with them. We were all just kids, trying to have a good time, playing splatter baseball with guavas and sticks, throwing ripe fruits at each other. I befriended Bonny and Luisa, the maids who lived in our house, helping them to hide from their drunken husbands who came looking for them. I was the only white kid in my class at school, so I had plenty of opportunities to make friends and practice self defense.  

As a child I was also exposed to diverging points of view regarding poverty and politics. When the Cuban missile crisis went down, I remember seeing the aerial photographs in The San Juan Star--the English language newspaper--of ships laden with pointy white rockets and heard nuns talk of how the communists were trying to take us over and destroy our freedom to worship God. I exhorted my parents to pray the rosary as a family together every night so that this wouldn’t happen. Later on, however, I went to school taught by Jesuit priests, earnest, intellectual and left-leaning, who weaned me on Harvey Cox and “The Secular City.” 

My older brother John took these things very seriously. A certified genius, he was studious and introverted, and even the draft board was convinced that he merited Conscientious Objector status. He was like a priest, a math teacher, a priest of math. He saw absolutes and had convictions. I on the other hand was about fitting in: practicing my pronunciation of important words like “coño” and participating in the street life that was being lived out before my eyes. I didn’t make judgements; I made adjustments. So I never really came to a decision about anything serious. Neither Che nor Jesús.  

Life and responsibility have a habit of catching up to a person, however. Jesus has a way of drawing a man to him. Flash forward. Now, after many years of ministering the gospel among indigenous people in Honduras, I find myself in Nicaragua meeting up once more with Che Guevara. This time he’s not an image on a t-shirt; he’s a larger-than-life legacy present in the “Bolivarian” social policies and philosophies being promoted by Hugo Chavez and a half dozen other Latin American Presidents, including Nicaragua’s Daniel Ortega. Once again I’m hearing comparisons to Jesus. Hugo himself considers both the writings of Che and the gospel accounts of Jesus among the greatest influences on his life and thought; Jesus, he says, was the world’s first socialist. Twenty-three years ago I dealt with the question, “What are you going to do with Jesus?” Now, in order to minister effectively among indigenous people, I feel compelled to do something with Che.     

 

Most Christians in the United States are conservatives who might be incensed at any attempt to compare Che with Jesus. At the least they might say, “Why bother?” Che’s dead, Hugo and his leftist friends are so obviously a bunch of ungodly slimeballs, how could anyone take them seriously?” They dismiss the so-called Liberation Theology as a heresy of the seventies and early eighties roundly rejected as foolishness, to be associated somehow with Jimmy Carter’s foreign policy--which in turn is connected somehow to Obama’s. People forward e-mails to each other about how dumb that is. Even in Latin America Ronald Reagan got more respect than Carter, and Liberation Theology backfired completely: more Latin Americans abandoned the Catholic Church in that era than at any other time before or since. Americans watch Cuban ballplayers defect at every opportunity, and maybe listen to an immigrant businessperson talk about how bad it’s getting in Venezuela. We make the mistake of thinking Hugo and his ilk rule solely by intimidation, without any popular support at all. We don’t realize how much Che’s legacy has influenced people’s lives in this part of the world. 

In Nicaragua, a generation of Miskitos has grown up with no knowledge or recollection of the repression and hardship of the refugee period. The fastest growing party affiliation among young Miskito people today is the FSLN. “Indigenist” philosophy is a powerful social force that Chavez’ ALBA movement actively promotes. We shouldn’t ignore it or simply oppose it by making tongue-in-cheek remarks about the “Sandinistas” from the pulpit, expecting everyone to be on board. There may be Sandinistas in the congregation in front of you--and they’re believers! 

I think socialism is more friendly to traditional Miskito culture than capitalism. This is why: not too long ago the monetary unit in Miskito society was perishable commodities--meat, fish, tubers--which cannot be preserved without refrigeration or the ability to produce more than a calabash-full of salt. Trying to amass this “capital” by saving and investing was not only impossible, it was wasteful. It wasn’t even feasible to trade those things for other goods, since everyone produced the same stuff. There was no trade to speak of. There was just that handful folks who for whatever reason were stronger or more skilled, able to plant, hunt, or gather better than others, and another handful who, because of age, illness, or physical disability, were not able to produce enough to support themselves. These stronger ones needed to divest themselves of any excess lest it rot while other weaker members of the community looked on. The self-righteousness of the Ant in the fable “The Ant and the Grasshopper” doesn’t work well in a tropical climate where winter never arrives and community is composed of extended family. Try telling that fable to Miskito children; they’d consider the ant “slabla”--the native word for sphincter, which is slang for stingy. How could you sit on money till it’s full of maggots while some of those in your own family go hungry? The values long instilled in Miskito children have been: 1) take from mother nature not more than is needed, letting the earth be replenished and the spirits appeased; 2) divest yourself of excess for the collective good, that people might live in equality. 

“But the brother in humble circumstances is to glory in his high position, and the rich man is to glory in his humiliation, because like flowering grass he will pass away.” -James, brother of Jesus, 1:9,10  

There is no shortage of scriptures that support this set of values within the context of the traditional way of life. Regarding care for the feeble, the Apostle Paul states in his first letter to Timothy: “anyone who doesn’t provide for his own, and especially those of his own house, has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.” In the Miskito mind, “his own” means one’s people, and “his own house” the closer circle of extended family. Few, however, have ever extrapolated those values and applied them conceptually to a multi-ethnic, market oriented national economy where the accountability of village life cannot be reproduced, and Paul’s charge of responsibility to “anyone” is commuted to government instead of a person, while “widows” are transformed from elderly loved ones into a sea of unknown faces. Few have imagined what that would look like, beyond envisioning the hope of receiving free services from Papa Government. 

Now Che has been campaigning to become Christ to indigenous people through the rhetoric of the “Bolivarian Revolution”, and he seems to many to be a lot like Jesus. At the same time, Jesus is being presented by others--non Miskitos--as a capitalist, and Christianity as a way of life out of which capitalism springs forth as though it were one of the fruits of the Spirit. 

So I feel the need to make a comparison between these two, Che and Jesus. It’s not like I don’t know beforehand who would win a head-to-head competition--God vs a man, duh--but I want to compare them as one man might be distinguished from the other by the way they lived, by their words and their deeds, so that I can sort through the partisan propaganda and help other people decide whom they want to follow. Since I’m thinking through this as I go, I will begin a little bullet-list of similarities and differences, and see what comes out of it.

   

Similarities:

•  “Where have you gone, Mr. Coffee? / A nation turns its lonely eyes to you.” Stylized renderings of both Che’s and Jesus’ faces have produced some of the world’s most universally recognized, merchandized, and objectified images, fueling a consumer culture neither of them desired nor cultivated. Yes, Jesus and Che are both being milked every day for personal gain. In this sense they were similar: if they were around today, they wouldn’t be taking advantage of their recognition by endorsing products; rather, they would probably both be turning over tables. 
• People are real touchy about the reputation of these two. If you write about either Che or Jesus, people are more apt to read your work than if you wrote about yourself. If you praise either one, some people are going to get angry while others cheer. If you write something bad, the latter set is going to be mad at you, and the former becomes your friend.   
• Their names are invoked by many to lend weight and justification to their actions. The legitimacy of the invocation is another issue; that would depend on two factors: their faithfulness to the spirit of the name, and the righteousness (or not) of the one invoked.  
• They were both first-born children of their mothers, and prodigies. Teachers of the law at the temple were astonished at the 12 year old Yeshua’s knowledge of scripture, while Che excelled in athletics and chess; from the very beginning he was Alberto Bayo’s “prize student” in 26th of July school for guerrilla warfare.
• They both chose voluntarily to become poor, to identify with the poor, hungry, and diseased.
• They were healers who didn’t charge for their services. Che was a doctor who set out to work with lepers. Both were convinced that they needed to go beyond physical healing in order to really help people. 
• Their goal was to set people free.
• They both taught that social justice was unobtainable without the creation of a new “man and woman” who would be able to overcome egotism and selfishness.
• Both stated and operated on a belief that moral incentives were superior to material ones.
• They were both marked for murder by leaders of the systems they threatened. There were repeated attempts on their lives as they spoke openly in public. They both managed to escape miraculously on numerous occasions.
• They both lived the majority of their “ministries” in the company of a small group of followers, undergoing arduous marches over mountains, across rivers, lakes, and deserted places. They could sing the lyrics of Bob Marley’s “Talking Blues” from personal experience: “Cold ground was my bed last night / Rock-stone was my pillow too.”

• They viewed their role as teachers of their followers.

  They led by word and example, not asking their followers to do anything they weren’t willing to do themselves.

  They were both murdered by soldiers, acting on orders from corrupt leaders of the establishment who devised plots and held secret meetings.

  

   Differences:

•   We might concede the idea that perhaps Che was better looking. Even after wounding and capture Che was described by Julia Cortez, a 22 year old village school teacher, as an “agreeable looking man with a soft and ironic gaze.”  Jesus was described as a man who “hath no form nor comeliness; and when we shall see him, there is no beauty that we should desire him” (Isaiah 53:2)  
•  Che had asthma and smoked a lot of tobacco. Mostly cigars and pipes. Did that affect his health and effectiveness? Was it sexy? He did have a certain jaunty air. I don’t know of Jesus having any habits that exacerbated health issues. Pretty boring, but healthy. He had an air of meekness rather than of cocky defiance, but at the same time, one of power and authority. When Jesus confirmed his identity in Gethsemane, all the soldiers hit the dirt (John 18:6). 
  
• Che called himself a “child of his environment” and spoke of being transformed by the endemic poverty he witnessed. One gets the distinct impression that the 39 year old Che seized in the Bolivian jungle was a much different man than Fuser, the young medical student who took off on a motorcycle jaunt around South America. Jesus claimed to be from above. He was moved by poverty, disease, and brokenness, but his philosophy, character, and message remained the same (John 9:3-5).
• Che envisioned a border-free, united hispanic America, sharing a common latino heritage, which would rise up and vanquish a blue-eyed race from the North. Jesus saw all those who believe on Him through the word of the disciples, jews and gentiles of all ethnicities, becoming one, even as he and the Father are one (John 17:20, 21).
• Che considered that the only way to set people free was through the political arena of armed struggle. Jesus continually rejected his followers’ expectation that he take up arms against the Roman oppressors, stating that His kingdom was not of this world (John 18:36). He said that if we continue in his word we will be His disciples, we will know the truth, and the truth will set us free, free indeed, regardless of our social or economic standing (John 8:31-36).
• Che considered Jesus a lousy, failed revolutionary. He shocked members of his family when he said that if he were to meet Jesus in person, he would step on him “like a little squishy worm.” Jesus loved Che. He took Simon the Zealot (Luke 6:15), a revolutionary like Che, to be one of his closest disciples and taught him His way of doing revolution. He died for Che with full knowledge of his shortcomings.
• Jesus never married, not because he thought marriage to be bourgeoise or sex to be beneath him, but because his mission--to be a sacrifice--precluded a private life. In Matthew 8:20, Jesus says to a scribe who thinks he wants to follow him, “The foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head." He recognized that marriage would not be fair to a spouse or to any children he might have. Che Guevara married Hilda Gadea, had a baby girl, went off to fight in Cuba, fell in love with Aleida March, divorced Hilda, married Aleida, and had four more children. None of these has spoken ill of him, but the truth is, he was rarely able to be around, and had to visit his children in disguise--even in Cuba.
• Che was known to be a ruthless disciplinarian who unhesitatingly shot deserters, defectors and those he feared might betray him (One wonders what would have happened to Hilda Gadea if she had dumped him?). Jesus knowingly told Judas to do what he needed to do quickly, gave him permission to leave the table at the last supper (John 14:27), and even forgave him. All of his disciples deserted him when he was taken away, but the next time they saw him he walked into the room where they were hiding and said, “Peace be with you.” He forgave Peter his repeated denial and restored him. Judas hanged himself.
• Those who knew him, friends and foes alike, considered Che to have become a hardened man, sending hundreds of people to the firing squad without blinking an eye. Jesus may be characterized by his compassionate healing of the high priest’s servant, whose ear Peter had severed in the garden of betrayal.
• Che thought that the capitalist system was responsible for making people selfish and egotistical, and that the “new man” would naturally emerge from the practice of a more collective economic and political system. He believed utopia is achievable through the efforts of zealous socialists unwilling to compromise. Jesus’ premise was that we are all born selfish and egotistical; he thought that only belief in forgiveness of our rottenness through his bloody death would have the power to transform us into “new people.” He understood realistically, however, that transformation would be progressive, each life being perfected only when we meet him face to face, after our deaths--not because of a lack of power, but because of the severity of our own brokenness. He instructs us likewise to “judge no man according to the flesh,” but rather according to the man who will be when Jesus has perfected him.
• Che had an opportunity to put his hypothesis to the test as President of Cuba’s National Bank and Minister of Industry. He eliminated financial rewards for exceeding quotas in favor of awarding letters of commendation, but retained a policy of docking the pay of people who didn’t reach their quota. The result was a sharp drop in production and a vertiginous spike in worker absenteeism. The “old man” threw the economy in reverse; the “new man” never emerged. Che then quit his positions of authority and went back to being a guerilla fighter in Africa and South America. The jury is still out on Jesus’ “new man” because of an “asterisk”: namely, the promise that the government will be on his shoulders in a coming age. If that prophesy comes true, then we will be able to make a valid comparison. If not, well, we can all nod our skulls in the grave, or perhaps aliens might arrive, study our civilization, and give the advantage to Che.
• The Che who went to the Congo and Bolivia was increasingly discontent with his associates for not measuring up to his standards. His preference for confrontation rather than compromise contributed to his inability to develop successful working relationships with local leaders. He had the same cross-cultural issues that I see so often when Nicaraguans and Hondurans go out to improve the Miskito Indians of their own nation: they are perceived as believing themselves superior, as believing that Miskitos are underachievers, being ignorant of the fact that Miskitos don’t even share their values. They act bossy and impatient. Jesus certainly had a higher set of standards than his disciples, and he did not compromise them in his own life, nor in his teaching. He even reprimanded his disciples on a pretty regular basis for their pettiness and unbelief, but his encouraging words so far outweighed his criticisms that he inspired Peter to say, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have believed and have come to know that You are the Holy One of God.” (John 6:68-69) Jesus excelled at developing working relationships.    
• Che was taken by force, against his will; Jesus allowed himself to be taken (John 18:11).
• When captured, Che did not speak to Bolivian officers but lashed out violently, kicking (seated with his hands tied behind his back) one named Espinoza into a wall  because he had tried to rip the pipe out of his mouth. He also spat in the face of a Bolivian Rear Admiral shortly before his execution. When an officer struck Jesus in the face with his hand for answering the High Priest with a question, Jesus did not strike back, but replied, “If I have spoken wrongly, testify of the wrong; but if rightly, why do you strike me?” (John 18:23) When Jesus was spat on, slapped and taunted, he did not retaliate.
• Jesus and Che were looking at their deaths with different perspectives. French intellectual Régis Dubray, who was with Che when he was captured, wrote that Guevara was “resigned to die in the knowledge that his death would be a sort of renaissance.” When Che was about to be executed, he was asked whether he was thinking about his immortality. “No,” he replied, “I’m thinking about the immortality of the revolution.” Jesus said to the chief priests and scribes, “Hereafter shall the Son of man sit at the right hand of the power of God* (Luke 22:69) and, when he was about to breathe his last, “It is finished,” meaning that he had already accomplished that which needed to be done. Jesus died with the knowledge that the revolution was complete; people would have to make their adjustments to it, rather than accomplish it themselves after he was gone. “Now judgement is upon this world; now the ruler of this world will be cast out. And if I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all men to Myself.” (John 12:31-32)
• Che’s last words were spoken to a scared, half-drunk soldier named Mario, who was given the task of pulling the trigger. Che said, “I know you’ve come to kill me. Shoot, coward, you are only going to kill a man.” Jesus looked upon his executioners and said, “Father, forgive these people, because they don’t know what they’re doing.”
• The journalist Christopher Hitchens wrote that “[Che’s] death meant a lot to me and countless like me at the time, he was a role model, albeit an impossible one for us bourgeois romantics in that he went and did what revolutionaries were meant to do--fought and died for his beliefs.” Jesus’ death means a lot to me and countless like me at this time, because he went and did what sacrifices were meant to do but could not--he died, once, not for his beliefs but for us. He is for us an impossible role model, not because we are unable to fight and die for Him--that is very possible--but because he was without sin.
• After Che was dead, a Bolivian military doctor amputated his hands for fingerprint identification (confirmed), then flew his body strapped to a helicopter’s landing skids to an undisclosed location where they buried him secretly in a mass grave. They would not let on whether he had been buried or cremated for fear his followers would dig him up, take him back and make some kind of outrageous claims.  Years later, however, retired Bolivian General Mario Vargas revealed the whereabouts of the body. A Cuban team traveled to an airstrip in Vallegrande, Bolivia and found the remains of a man of Che’s stature whose hands had been amputated. Excavated teeth matched a plaster mold made in Cuba in the days before Che went to the Congo. Jesus’ friends were permitted to take and bury his body, but a huge stone was rolled over the entrance and Roman soldiers were ordered to stand guard around the clock, knowing that they would be put to death if they allowed anyone to tamper with the grave. The gospel account of Matthew reports that it was common knowledge among the Jews of the day that the chief priests bribed the soldiers to say that the disciples stole Jesus’ body, promising to talk to the governor if he heard about it so that they wouldn’t get into trouble. As it was, there were 500 eyewitnesses who saw Jesus alive afterward, and his closest disciples preferred to be put to death rather than renounce their story, convinced that they too would be raised up as promised on the “last day.”                        

     

I’m not the most politically savvy person in the world, but I can’t see any political or economic system able to bring about the kingdom of God, or whatever name you want to give utopia. There is always a way to beat the system, a way for a minority to live above the law and exercise undue power over the rest. Socialism becomes an excuse for a handful to gorge themselves on power in the name of “the people” and pretend they’re benevolent by giving away other peoples’ money, while capitalism seems to elevate greed to a virtue, allowing exploiters to congratulate themselves for “creating jobs”, to call others stupid or lazy because they haven’t made as much money as they have, or call themselves great humanitarians for donating money--which they would have to pay in taxes anyway--to their favorite elitist causes. 

On the other hand, I can imagine either system--socialism or capitalism--working fine if everyone acted as biblical Christianity commands us to. If those in power would be “the servants of all” and workers would labor “as unto the Lord” regardless of how they feel about their station, no one would slouch and everyone would look out for one another. I don’t expect it to happen in this world, but if that’s the standard by which we are judged by a righteous God who sees everything and who will reward us eternally according to our works in these brief moments of life on earth, then let us choose carefully whose example we will follow. "A pupil is not above his teacher; but everyone, after he has been fully trained, will be like his teacher” (Luke 6:40). The “new man” or “new woman” we envision ourselves becoming must resemble the person and character of the teacher we choose. It’s not about a system.       

 

   

JESUS’ LAST WISH

“I do not ask on behalf of these alone, but for those who believe on me through their word; that they may all be one; as You, Father, are in Me and I in You, that they also may be in Us, so that the world may believe that You sent Me. The glory which You have given to Me I have given to them, that they may be one, just as We are one; I in them and You in Me, that they may be perfected in unity, so that the world may know that You sent Me, and loved them, just as You have loved Me.”
--Jesus’ last wish (John 17:20-23)

It is customary in our penal system and in others’ for a condemned man to make a final wish before submitting to capital punishment. Most such requests are simple and indulgent: a smoke, a favorite meal, a chance to make a personal statement. If practical and within the institution’s power to provide such, these wishes are inevitably granted within a 24 hour period. Even the victim’s family, who had cried out in pain and anger for the death penalty, silently begrudges the guilty man a last steak.
Jesus also made a last wish, but it was neither simple nor self-indulgent. The Father certainly has the power to make it happen, but it also requires something greater of us than just letting a guy have a last meal. It has been 2,000 years since the request was made, but I’m not so sure He’s gotten it yet. Let me ask a question: Who is closer, Jesus and the Father, or us (that they may be one, just as We are one)? I know that’s not really a fair question. We must join a union that’s always been perfect. It’s been complicated for us: tolerance cannot produce unity when essential truths are compromised. We can’t get there by interfaith groping or by kissing the pope’s ring. But how much of this separation is really our disgraceful reenactments of Cain and Abel covered over by scriptural or political smokescreen? Or our wallowing in the consequences of the tower of Babel even after the day of Pentecost has fully come? Why can’t we let Jesus have His wish, when even Rodney King knows it’s the right thing to do?
Consider this: Caucasian America (if I say white Americans people today think I’m being self-critical) and the English are about as closely related as two people groups can be. How is it then that most American Christians consider Ronald Reagan to be the U.S. President who most closely embodied biblical ethics, while most British Christians would give that distinction to Jimmy Carter? The two couldn’t be more different. Reagan brings to mind fiscal conservatism at home, reducing the size and scope of government, and returning America to traditional moral values. Also James Watts’ environmental policy, strong support of Israel, and proactive, principled use of American strength to defeat evil abroad. Reagan’s trickle-down economy coincided with the rise of yuppies and prosperity theology. Carter, on the other hand, was a Southern Democrat. Conservative in his personal morality but also permissive of big government; he tended to be “green”, placed his commitment to international “human rights” over the self-interest of the United States’ empire, and has proven over the years to be so critical of Israel that he buys into the apartheid comparison. Carter presided over the rise of Islam, atheist-leftist hegemony, and liberation theology.
When discussing issues of eschatology, the term “globalization” brings to most Christians’ minds thoughts of the impending one-world government, one-world religion, the false prophet, and the antichrist. In short, everything the enemy is doing to take advantage of a pervasive situation which in reality is under the permissive supervision of the Father. Personally, I get excited when I see how He is orchestrating these events for the purpose of granting Jesus His last wish! Because you’ve got to think, Jesus DOES get His prayers answered, doesn’t He?
My future entries in this section entitled JESUS' LAST WISH, will discuss vision, objectives, goals and activities that plunge into the river of what God is doing.