The Church
of the Ascension

Fifth Avenue at Tenth Street
New York City, New York

Mailing address:
12 W. 11th St
New York, NY 10011

v: 212-254-8620
f: 212-254-6520

Worship schedule
Sundays: 9am, 11am
Monday–Friday: 6pm


The Church of the Ascension in the City of New York



Friday, March 23, 2007

 
From AscensionNYC

Friday in the Fourth Week of Lent

Psalm 34:15-22
Wisdom 2:1a,12-24
John 7:1-2,10,25-30

Thank God for Al Gore! Thank God for "alarmists" and whistle-blowers who have martyred themselves, being ostracized and fired from employment for trying to warn the administration that our half-full glass is emptying, due to global warming and the war. I wonder if the Biblical figures who similarly admonished were listened to. The late 1st century AD wisdom writer exhorted Diaspora Jews to hold fast to their faith. Cosmopolitan, pagan cultures in which they now lived brandished temptations of materialism. The "eat, drink & be merry" fat-cats, "blinded by wickedness...did not know the secret purposes of God…who made us for incorruption." (I love the word. According to the RSV, it means Eternity. It seems to me more far-reaching in a temporal sense.) Those who don't get the message, who are "led astray", are condemned.

But perhaps our "Jeremiahs" are being listened to, finally, now that it may be too late. (Scientists warn that at the current rate, the seas are likely to rise two feet by 2100!) The words "climate change" have entered the vocabulary of even George Bush. Business leaders are discovering that it may be economical to "go green." Will they go far enough, fast enough? Or will it "cost too much"? Will fat-cat greed triumph again?

Good old
Hollywood is getting in on the act. Babel dramatizes the perils of not listening to one another. Children of Men is an apocalyptic nativity story. It presents a horrifying Armageddon of worldwide destruction, coming soon. It's ghastly. I don't know how I sat through it. Not only is everyone blowing up everyone else, especially "illegal aliens", we've managed to destroy our fertility. As the film opens, the youngest person on earth, an 18 year old, has just died! Just when we need him most, a Babe is sent. In case we don't get the message, Clive Owen must reverently mutter: "Jesus" — and not just once. Good old Hollywood!

Is it too late for us to throw a wrench into this awful spiral? Can we at last acquire a taste for "Incorruption"?

Gretchen Dumler




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