Dialogue 2, Part I
Lamentations

A Saturday morning.

Father Jack Forfatter lives in a small apartment above his parish office. Like each morning, he gathers the newspaper and brews a strong cup of coffee. 

A few days later, Jack attends Michael’s funeral. 

The following Sunday.

Fr. Jack, cloaked in his alb, sits in the  Presider’s Chair at the front of his parish’s small church. The lector begins the second reading.

LECTOR: A reading from First John. (Pause.)

Beloved, let us love one another: for love is of God; and every one that loveth is begotten of God, and knoweth God. He that loveth not knoweth not God; for God is love. Herein was the love of God manifested in us, that God hath sent his only begotten Son into the world that we might live through him. Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. Beloved, if God so loved us, we also ought to love one another. No man hath beheld God at any time: if we love one another, God abideth in us, and his love is perfected in us: hereby we know that we abide in him and he in us, because he hath given us of his Spirit. And we have beheld and bear witness that the Father hath sent the Son to be the Saviour of the world. Whosoever shall confess that Jesus is the Son of God, God abideth in him, and he in God. And we know and have believed the love which God hath in us. God is love; and he that abideth in love abideth in God, and God abideth in him. Herein is love made perfect with us, that we may have boldness in the day of judgment; because as he is, even so are we in this world. There is no fear in love: but perfect love casteth out fear, because fear hath punishment; and he that feareth is not made perfect in love. We love, because he first loved us. If a man say, I love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar: for he that loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, cannot love God whom he hath not seen. And this commandment have we from him, that he who loveth God love his brother also.¹

The Word of the Lord.

THE PEOPLE: Thanks be to God.

The cantor begins the “Alleluia” and Fr. Jack rises, retrieving the Gospel from the Altar. Raising it above his head, he descends from the chancel into the nave. After the cantor concludes, Fr. Jack makes the Sign of the Cross on the book and then on his forehead, lips, and breast.

JACK: The Holy Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ according to John.

THE PEOPLE: Glory to You, oh Lord.

JACK: (Reading from the Gospel)

I am the true vine, and my Father is the husbandman. Every branch in me that beareth not fruit, he taketh it away: and every branch that beareth fruit, he cleanseth it, that it may bear more fruit. Already ye are clean because of the word which I have spoken unto you. Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, except it abide in the vine; so neither can ye, except ye abide in me. I am the vine, ye are the branches: He that abideth in me, and I in him, the same beareth much fruit: for apart from me ye can do nothing. If a man abide not in me, he is cast forth as a branch, and is withered; and they gather them, and cast them into the fire, and they are burned. If ye abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatsoever ye will, and it shall be done unto you. Herein is my Father glorified, that ye bear much fruit; and so shall ye be my disciples.²

The Gospel of the Lord.

THE PEOPLE: Praise to you, Lord Christ.

Jack turns and ascends the three steps to the chancel and places the Gospel on his pulpit. He pauses in reflection and then motions for the people to sit.

JACK: “God is love.” This is the bedrock of our faith. It is what was revealed in Christ’s life, death, and resurrection, and it constitutes the foundation on which all of the beliefs and practices of our faith ought to be based. 

It’s quite a claim, when you think about it. Since God is the ground of all being, when we say God is love, we are saying that our entire universe is a work of love. And since we are disciples of perfectly incarnate love, we are to be lovers. Not just of each other, but of neighbors, strangers, outcasts, criminals, and even enemies. 

He pauses and looks at his parishioners, scanning their faces. He softly sighs and stoops slightly, producing a Bible from the shelf below the pulpit. He thumbs to the back of the book.

You know, very little of the Book of Revelation is included in our lectionary. 

He holds up the volume tapping the page.

This book is a strange, terrifying account of the Christ who was so loving returning to pass judgment. 

He sets the Bible on the the pulpit and then rubs his temple. 

To be honest, I’ve often doubted the wisdom of including it in our canon.³

He turns and descends, traversing the chancel and once again descends into the nave. He walks down the aisle, his parishioners’ eyes following him.

Lately, though, I’ve been returning to it in my thoughts. I’m struck by the story of the Son of Man passing judgment upon the church in Ephesus. He is depicted as walking among candelabrum, each of which represents one of the major churches, his eyes aflame, holding seven stars in hand. He then proclaims: “I have this against you, that you have abandoned the love you had at first. Remember then from what you have fallen; repent, and do the works you did at first.”⁴ 

Ephesus had one of the most important and well-respected churches at the time. The author praises them for putting false apostles to the test. And yet, he also chastises them for failing to love.⁵

As I consider the state of the church in our society—how we offer prayers for the families of children massacred by other children in our schools, the young Black women and men who are mowed down by our officers of the peace, the hollow utterances of blessings that our politicians call down upon our nation as we or our allies bomb our Muslim brothers and sisters into oblivion—I wonder if perhaps we should identify with the church of Ephesus. Perhaps we, too, have failed in love. 

Many of the parishioners shift in their pews, parents furtively attend to their children.

I feel deeply—more deeply than I have felt anything of late—that the three-fold call that the Son of Man issues to Ephesus is one that we ought to heed: to remember that from which we have fallen; to repent, and to do the works the early disciples did at first.

He again pauses, pacing a bit.

We heard in the Word today that God is love. Notice that the matter was not principally put in terms of God’s love for us, though that of course is mentioned. The emphasis is on God being love. The Greek word, as many of you probably already know, is agápe, which is free and gratuitous care and concern for another. It is unconditioned as opposed to conditioned.

One of my favorite theologians, a Roman brethren, the late Father Michael Himes, said that agápe may be best understood as “self-gift.”⁶ You see, in agápeic love, a lover cares for the other—gives of oneself to the other—for the sake of the other. When we say God is love, we mean that this is the very nature of God. When we love another person for the sake of that person, without condition, we love God. And so, when we seek to respond to the commandment—or really, the invitation—to love God, we should understand that to mean that we need to actively love others in the ways that they need to be loved, even if it makes us uncomfortable. This is our task as the living members of the living God: to embody this spirit of agápe and to spread it in the world.

He pauses again, this time clearly reorienting himself and changing tack.

Let me ask a question. Who are we told will inherit the kingdom to come?

The parishioners continue to sit silently, interpreting the question as merely rhetorical.

Who do we say they are?

He looks about. Eventually, some parishioners offer quiet responses.

JANET: Those who believe.

Jack nods encouragingly.

VIVIAN: The poor and the meek.

He points to Vivian with approval and gestures for more.

GEORGE: We who accept that Christ is Lord.

JACK: And what is the mark of such people? What distinguishes them from others?

CHUCK: Worship and prayer.

JACK: Ah! Yes, but recall… (He closes his eyes as he recites a passage from memory.) “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.”⁷

He opens his eyes and looks about, pacing a bit more. After a lengthy pause he continues.

Do we do these things, really? In a spirit of agápe? Can it be said that we bear such marks of distinction? (After a brief pause.) “Of course,” it might be said, “we care for our friends and family members and fellow church-goers, attend to them when they are sick, and comfort and provide for them.” Indeed, and there’s nothing wrong with any of that. But even unbelievers do that much.⁸ Being a Christ-follower is supposed to mean something, it is meant to distinguish us.

He turns and walks once again up to the chancel, crossing to the pulpit.

A few days ago, I attended a funeral for a young man that died of a drug overdose. He was found only a block from the doors of our church. You may have read about it in the paper. (He runs his hands through his hair.) Michael was a child when I was called to serve this parish. He was a funny kid, full of energy. He’d often interrupt my sermon to hand me a drawing, sending his grandmother into a tizzy. 

The last time I saw him alive was two years ago. You might recall that he approached us and asked if we would let a group he worked with run a weekly clinic out of the parish house basement. You might also recall that we turned him down because the group was going to be illegally distributing sterile needles to injection drug users along with naloxone, an overdose-reversal medication. We didn’t want “junkies” hanging around our church, and we didn’t want to be implicated in their illegal distribution of a controlled substance. 

He sighs.

There we were, confronted with the opportunity to offer material assistance and take on risk for the sake of needful others, and we turned them down. 

What you might not know is that Michael’s group disbanded shortly after that. They couldn’t keep up without having a place to work.  But during the time that they were active, the naloxone kits they distributed were used to successfully reverse over sixty overdoses. 

Mike wasn’t one of them. He died under a tree in a park named after a president who despised people of his race and profited from the blood of slaves.

He stands silently for quite a while. Some parishioners glance at their watches.

I haven’t slept much these past few nights. As I lay in my bed, I feel myself under the blazing gaze of Bright Fire Eyes. (After a lengthy pause.) Amen.

Jack steps from the pulpit and crosses the chancel, taking his seat in the Presider’s Chair. He bows his head in a silent prayer, eyes closed, and hears a shuffling from the nave. After a moment the large church door swings open and then slams shut.

Let us confess our faith in the words of the Nicene Creed.

And those who remain do.

Later that evening, feeling agitated and cooped up, Jack wanders around his neighborhood, mulling over his frustrations. 

Monday morning.

After a sleepless night spent writing, but with a full day ahead of him, Jack has popped into Zeena’s Daily Grind to recharge. As he enjoys his americano and reviews what he wrote the previous night, Father Daniel Dempsey walks in. 

DANIEL: Morning, Jack! You look like you are working hard. 

JACK: Oh, hi, Dan. Good to see you. Yeah, I am reviewing something I wrote last night. Come join me once you get your order. 

After a few minutes, Daniel returns and sits across from Jack. 

DANIEL: So, a new project, I take it? 

JACK: Well, yesterday, my homily went over like a lead balloon, so I spent the rest of the evening stewing over my thoughts. I couldn’t set aside my feelings of discontent, so I stayed up most the night working my thoughts into an essay. 

DANIEL: Ah, I’m sorry to hear that. Though that’s just like you to externalize your frustrations onto the written page. (He takes a sip of coffee.) Is it anything I would enjoy reading? 

JACK: (shrugs) Perhaps so. It has turned into something like a current statement of my theological position and commitments. 

DANIEL: Well then, there’s no “perhaps” about it! 

JACK: You’ve always been a good sport, indulging me. 

DANIEL: Nonsense! I doubt I would’ve finished seminary were it not for reading your summaries. Let me take a look. If you’re not in a hurry, that is. It doesn’t look too long. 

Jack checks the time.

JACK: Unfortunately, I have to get to the hospital to visit a parishioner. Could I leave it with you? 

DANIEL: Of course. 

JACK: Thanks, Dan. Feel free to mark it up. Let’s do dinner later this week, and we can discuss it then. 

DANIEL: Lovely. It has been too long. 

JACK: Yes, it has. I’ll give you a call tomorrow and we can settle on a time. 

DANIEL: Take care of yourself today, Jack.

Jack smiles and pats him on the shoulder as he leaves.

JACK: I’ll try, my friend. 

Daniel sips his coffee and begins reading the manuscript. 

Notes

1. 1 John 4:7-21 (ASV)

2. Gospel of John 15: 1-8 (ASV)

3. Indeed, this was a disputed question at the time of the formation of the canon. Eusebius of Caesarea (c. 260 - c. 340) recounts that Dionysius of Alexandria had this to say about Revelation: “Some before us have set aside and rejected the book altogether, criticising it chapter by chapter, and pronouncing it without sense or argument, and maintaining that the title is fraudulent.” Eusebius, Ecclesiastical History 7.25.1-16, trans., McGiffert, in The Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers; Second Series; Volume 1, ed., Wace and Schaff. (Christian Literature Publishing, 1890).

4. Revelations 2 (NRSV)

5. Ibid. See also Adela Yard Collins, “Revelation,” in The Jerome Biblical Commentary for the Twenty-First Century: Third Fully Revised Edition, ed., Collins, Hens-Piazza, Reid, and Senior (Bloomsbury Academic, 2022), 1862.

6. Michael Himes, The Mystery of Faith: An Introduction to Catholicism (St. Anthony Messenger Press, 2004), Ch. 1.

7. Matthew 25:34-36 (NRSV)

8. Matthew 5:47