Hearing the Gospel

Bishop Marianne Budde stood in her pulpit in front of President Trump, Vice President Vance, and their entourage. She spoke the gospel about good news for the poor, the inclusion of outcasts, and asked everyone with ears to hear to remember how blessed are the merciful.

The gospel, when it is heard, is upsetting. No one really likes to be told that it is their humility, not their strength, that marks the presence of God. Few of us want to be reminded that it is our poverty, not our wealth, that brings God near. Success is not part of the gospel, and exclusion is the opposite of its joy. So, the bishop spoke the gospel. She asked that mercy be practiced, that the excluded be acknowledged and loved, and that the poorest among us, the most desperate, be remembered and treated as the children of God.

I remember where I was when I first heard the gospel. I was on the hockey rink. I was taller than most kids, and I was fast. I could skate circles around people, and I could take the puck from one end the of the ice to the other and score at will. I was blazing down the right wing and made a cut into center ice. A much smaller boy set out to check me, inching close as I cut sharply to the left. I did not see him, and I hit him at full speed. I barely felt the collision but he went flying. He was lying on the ice at my feet, unable to move, and crying. I stood over him. I felt in my heart that I would never be able to forgive myself. It was then that I heard the gospel for the first time in my life. How blessed are the poor, the hungry, and the persecuted. That boy, in pain and with tears, showed me the meaning of God’s domain.

I wonder what it was like for the president to hear the gospel possibly for the first time. It certainly sank into his consciousness, and it bothered him though he may not know why. I wonder whether J.D. Vance knew he was hearing the gospel at all, that voice that comes from an unexpected location to invert our value systems and cause us to seek forgiveness?

It is not wrong to be disturbed by the gospel. In fact, that is what happens. We hear it. We are broken, and we repent. It happens in our daily lives, like when we are skating down the ice or when someone is begging at the corner of the street. Rarely does it happen in church, but Bishop Budde found that the moment was right and she relayed the good news. Perhaps it fell on deaf ears since the reaction so far has been vindictiveness, not joy. Perhaps the gospel will take its time to work in, for the gospel is like acid as it slowly dissolves the outer shell of our psyches to change our spirit from self-righteousness to selfless giving. The gospel, when it hits its mark, demands compassion, but compassion overwhelms and, often, we turn away.

The news media does not understand the gospel, either. Bishop Budde is described as courageous, and she is lauded for speaking truth to power. People who speak the gospel, though, do not know directly why they do, because the gospel is not someone’s possession. To the media, this news is about someone, but in the dominion of God it is about having the ears to hear. Even the speaker needs the ears to hear. In time we will see whether, among that illustrious audience, there was someone who heard and who will repent.

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