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Gotcha!November 11, 2007 Twenty-fourth Sunday after Pentecost If you’ve seen any part of the presidential debates, you know that so far, content is overwhelmed by how well the participants can play the game of “Gotcha!”. This game was in high relief in last week’s Democratic contest when Hillary Clinton was the target of a fair amount of the evening’s energy. If you followed any of the afterplay commentary, each candidate rushed to interpret how the Gotcha! had landed and scored points. Mrs. Clinton played her hand by claiming a foul, but that only agitated more “Gotchas!” from a whole new set of participants. As you well know, Gotcha! is less intent on stimulating a rich conversation about important issues than tripping up opponents in misstatements and flip flops. This motivation seems as true of the supposedly independent journalists as it does of the candidates. The more inconsistent statements that can be garnered, the greater number of points awarded to the questioner. This gamesmanship surely contributes to our perception of the aspirants as irrepressible chameleons who shape the colors of their message so as to offend the least percentage of voters, depending upon their context. Of course, provoking the Gotcha! attack is not all bad. If a candidate becomes the focus of someone’s Gotcha! energy, this confirms that his candidacy is bona fide. I noticed that Mike Huckabee, the erstwhile Baptist minister and Arkansas governor – who had been trolling towards the back of the Republican pack – said this week how pleased he was that Fred Thompson had attacked him. That gave his candidacy credibility and created some buzz. Gotcha! is a dicey game, of course. Its ultimate purpose in the political realm is to depose contenders. This may or may not have anything to do with principled positions and effective leadership, but it certainly makes for a television game show set. Long gone are the days when folks would show up for an intricately argued political speech of, say, 7,500 words from an awkward, rather unattractive individual, as they did for Abraham Lincoln in February of 1860 when, as an obscure aspirant from Illinois, he spoke at the Cooper Union here in New York down on 7th Street. By way of comparison, that’s nearly four times as long as most of my Sunday sermons. Most historians credit that speech, which outlined Lincoln’s position on slavery, as launching his ride to the White House. We have nothing equivalent to that today, in which sustained, purposeful argument wins out over sound-bite marketing. We’re as much to blame for that as the candidates, of course, given our short attention spans. Now Lincoln did have to engage a 19th century version of Gotcha!, which played out in the pages of newspapers and broadsides, until he attended that fateful performance at Ford’s Theatre five years later. Lincoln finished his last Gotcha! there on a night that just happened to fall on Good Friday. Gotcha! isn’t limited to the political realm, of course. For instance, I bet all of you can tell some hair-raising versions drawn from a place of employment, especially as it pertains to career advancement or ducking blame. I suppose it’s only the most naïve who remain unaware of the Gotcha! currents and undertows in their various workaday and social environments. It’s an important political awareness to possess whether or not one is a deft player in a rough-and-tumble sort of way. This gamesmanship came to mind as I read the little vignette from Luke we heard earlier. The story falls within a larger context that has Jesus teaching in the temple, where he’s asked a series of questions from a variety of people who are all playing a first century version of Gotcha!. His success has attracted a lot of attention and some now want him deposed. Perhaps if they can trap him in logical inconsistencies he’ll lose some of his glow. Then as now, the fact that these righteous and learned types are after him means that Jesus has most definitely been noticed. I suppose he could take that as a positive development, but then, he wasn’t running for political office. Now, when I got to this point in the story this week, I had a thought that had never occurred to me before. Rather than immediately considering the ins and outs of an afterlife, I began to wonder about this from the perspective of the woman. I mean, the fact is the law treated her as property to be passed from one man to another. She has throw-away value here, just a powerless pawn to help the self-righteous make their case. Granted, she’s a fictional character, but the fact this little fiction makes perfect sense to the questioners reflects the truthful situation for women at this point in time. They don’t see that, of course. They ask their question from within their own constricted frame of reference and world view. This got me to wondering whether the Gotcha! scenario of winners and losers fosters this sort of take-it-for-granted approach to people more generally. That’s how my mind drifted to Lincoln’s Cooper Union address about slavery. Surely no class of persons fit the prototype for throw-away pawns better than America’s slaves. And you don’t have to spend much time with the journalism of those days to discover their terrible and dreadful role in the gamesmanship of Gotcha!. Friends, when we engage the gospel it’s prudent to assume we have something radically new to learn, whether we’re old-hands at this church stuff or neophytes. We can never be satisfied that we finally have what God has in mind pinned down. The moment we do that is the moment we start siding with the Sadducees. And in that moment, our religion sides with those who hold the jailhouse keys. Whenever we crack open the pages of the Bible, or for that matter, the moment we open ourselves up in prayer, we should do this with humility and a desire for the grace to listen for the new thing that we’ve missed. This same openness is what allows us to extend God’s hospitality to ever-widening circles. So here’s where I went with this line of thinking. I arrived at a new commitment to pay attention to the limits of my own point of view; to consider how it suffers from the ravages of a Gotcha! type of gamesmanship that springs up within our political, social, economic, even religious cultures. I will pay attention to how this tends to minimize and demean the lives of real people. I will assume that at least some of what I think I know takes others for granted in ways that I cannot see. And I will attempt to have my eyes fixed on God’s future where every sort of human bondage finds release, even my own. For as Jesus said, our God is a God of the living. I’ve said this as a declarative statement, but I intend it as a prayer. If you’re willing, you could add your voice to my own. I would gladly welcome the company. Previous sermon: Betty's Prayer Next sermon: A Dangerous Hair-Raising Word All past sermons |
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