February 19, 2023
Exodus 24:12-18; Matthew 17:1-9
And [Jesus] was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white.
Today is Transfiguration Sunday. It recalls the transfiguration of both Moses and Jesus. What does it mean to be transfigured? One becomes enshrouded in light, with the face and body and even clothing shining brightly. This light signifies the presence of the divine.
In the case of Moses, this light arose from his climbing Mount Sinai into the holy place of God. For Jesus, this is both an indication of the favor of God, as announced from the heavens, and also a suggestion of the divine nature of Jesus. Moses was bathed in the light while Jesus was the source of the light.
Transfiguration has to do with appearances, which are important. In this case they signify divinity, whether reflected or embodied. This is not transformation, however, for both Moses and Jesus remain who they were, recognizably human figures whose outward form became illuminated for a time. Nothing changed but something was revealed.
This Sunday is another installment in my sermon series about cultures that influenced Christianity. Today we consider the Spanish and their vast and enduring influence on the religious landscape of the so-called New World. If you were to look at a map of North and South America which indicated the largest religious group in a country, you would see that most are majority Catholic. And you can look to the Spanish for that result.
From the 15th to 17th century, the nations of Europe circled the globe in what has become known as the Age of Exploration. That is a euphemism for what was also the Age of Colonization. All that territory being explored was generally already inhabited. This is like going on a trip and declaring that you discovered Miami.
The European powers competed for new lands and new colonies. Why colonies, by the way? Why not good old-fashioned imperialism? Imperialism and colonialism are related, but they are not the same. The Roman Empire was not colonial in nature, though the Romans did set up colonial outposts around the empire. This gave Roman soldiers and bureaucrats a place to call home, one that looked and operated like a proper Roman town. The Romans did not care so much what the people they conquered did, so long as everyone knew who was in charge.
Unlike the Romans, the Spanish were not a hands-off sort of conqueror. And one of the primary aspects of Spanish colonization was religious conversion. The Spanish intended to spread Christianity to these lands and specifically the Catholic faith. And there was no room for argument—you converted or you were persecuted as heretics. In this regard, the Spanish were brutally successful. The legacy of Latin American colonialism is religion.
The Spanish tried to eliminate indigenous religious practices, root and branch. They were considered demonic. And there were examples of terribly cruel practices, by the Aztecs in particular, which I will spare you the details of on this fine Sunday.
One might argue, for this reason, that the Spanish had the “best interests” of the people of Latin America in mind, saving them from terrible overlords who killed and enslaved them. One could say that, but if you are replacing one terrible overlord who kills and enslaves with another one who does the same thing, it makes you wonder if this was really in the people’s best interest.
Along with these new overlords came new religious leaders. What did the Catholic missionaries expect of the people? They expected them to convert. To be baptized and to follow the teachings of Jesus Christ. To be virtuous, to be modest, to be pious. To become good Christians, casting aside their prior, pagan ways.
Please note that these were Catholic missionaries at a time when Europe was involved with many religious wars. The Protestant English and Dutch were competing for colonies against the Catholic Spanish and Portuguese. And there was no concept of religious liberty in Europe at the time. You followed the religion of the ruler. And if that ruler held to a different religion than yours, you needed to change.
But at least on paper, the Spanish king claimed to be looking out for his new subjects. In the Royal Order for New Discoveries of 1573, it was decreed that the Indians should be taught, “to live in a civilized manner, clothed and wearing shoes…given the use of bread and wine and oil and many other essentials of life—bread, silk, linen, horses, cattle, tools, and weapons, and all the rest that Spain has had. Instructed in the trades and skills with which they might live richly…”
This at first glance seems to be the sort of instruction and access to goods that any citizen of Spain would have been happy to have. There are a few problems with this, however. These “New Discoveries” were lands filled with people and existing cultures that had developed over thousands of years. And the reference to a “civilized manner” pinpoints one of the essential problems with the Age of Colonialism. It was inherently a judgment made against other civilizations, calling them not civilized in the estimation of the people of Europe.
Therefore, you needed to be clothed and wearing shoes, even if you already had some version of clothing and footwear common to your existing culture. Those were not the right kinds of clothing. They were not the right kind of shoes. They were also probably considered immodest by Spanish standards, ignoring for the moment that many of these colonies were in tropical areas.
The Spanish declared that the people needed access to bread, wine, and oil. They made this declaration for countries that had no wheat, no grapes, and no olives. So where would you get them? From Spain, of course. Cha-ching. All of these were goods to be exported for a tidy sum, notwithstanding that the New World had done just fine with corn, potatoes, and tropical fruits.
You also need silk, linen, horses, cattle, tools, and weapons. Beyond the economic value of exporting more goods to the New World, notice what each of these products presumes. Silk would have been a luxury, linen a normal material, at least in a place that grew flax unlike Latin America. But these were important items if one was to be normal, to take on the familiar characteristics of a Spanish citizen.
Horses and cattle were considered central to being civilized. Horses so your farms would be capable of functioning with efficiency and purpose. Cattle so you could have butter, milk, cheese, and beef, all foods alien to the indigenous people but necessities of life for the Spaniards. And then there were tools and weapons. Tools to till the land to produce the most food. And weapons to guard it from people who wanted to claim it, people like the Spanish.
Colonization is about gaining control over a place, economically and militarily for certain, and in the case of Spain, culturally and religiously. This was not just about gold and silver. It was about changing the New World into a version of the Old World.
I am taking a course right now about development. Global development. Development in this sense is about working with countries around the world to improve their economies, like through the World Bank or the international Monetary Fund. It can be about starting new industries, helping to establish mines and factories, and providing educational opportunities to support these sorts of improvements. And it seems like a good thing, to help develop these countries. To help them achieve better economic prospects and higher educational outcomes.
Isn’t that a good thing?
I am taking this course at a school of theology, which seems like a peculiar place to be studying global economic development. But the underlying premise of the course is that global development can sometimes look a lot like colonialism. And colonialism can sometimes look a lot like missionary work. And when those all look a lot like each other, it is not a good thing.
The Spanish were looking for new lands to call their own and they then wanted to make those lands look like home. They wanted the people there to act, dress, and believe the same. But the Spanish did not need to do that. They could have just taken the gold and silver, the potatoes and corn. They could have made money while leaving the people alone. There were ancient examples of doing exactly that with the Roman Empire. But the Spanish did not follow the example of Rome.
Well, actually, they did, but not the Roman Empire. Instead, they were following the Roman church, which wanted more people to follow the ways of Jesus Christ, as they saw them. And so, the conversion of the indigenous people of the New World was as much a priority for the Spanish as the extraction of wealth.
And from the perspective of the Spanish kings and the Roman popes, this all made perfect sense. In fact, it was the right thing to do. Unlike the ancient Romans, who were just looking to expand their empire, the Spanish were trying to save these people. To save their immortal souls. Because it was the belief of the Catholic Church that only those within the church would be saved from eternal damnation. I say “was the belief” but many modern Christians, both Catholic and Protestant, believe that anyone who is not a Christian cannot be saved.
Which is why you must be saved. You must be baptized, You must accept Jesus Christ as your personal savior. If you were to ask an average American Protestant what the most important thing one should do as a Christian, the most common answer is to help someone be saved, to find Jesus, to become a Christian. Ask an average Catholic that same question and you would first hear them say you should help the poor. But if you were to ask those same Catholics if someone can be saved outside the church, they would probably say no.
Religions often cast themselves as exclusive pathways to God. If you do not follow these rules and beliefs, then you are not to be counted among the faithful. The faithful who will be saved by God. This is not a uniquely Christian perspective, but I will focus on Christianity because it is an area I know better than others and because that is complicated enough for one sermon.
This religious perspective on salvation is a lot like global development. A country needs to reform its economy for its people to have good and prosperous lives. And so, well-intended people come to teach economic right from wrong. Individual ownership of property is the way to go. Having the state control prices or industrial production is bad. Capitalism is the lifeblood of modern commerce. Yay, capitalism.
The idea of development is implicitly a value judgment of a nation or a culture. You need to develop to attain a level of functioning that you currently do not possess. You need to be fixed because you are currently broken. Let us paint for you the picture of what you are supposed to look like.
Like the Spaniards trying to fix the New World, they took their own picture along as a model. Strangely enough, that was not a great model in hindsight. Their version of economics would bankrupt the kingdom in time. Their version of government led to endless infighting, intrigue, and inbreeding. And their version of religion was built upon an “us versus them” mentality. We will be saved, you will not. We are righteous. And all the rest? Unsaved. Unbaptized. Unacceptable.
There is a version of colonialism kicking around these days, neo-colonialism. Successful nations of the world use their financial systems to control other countries economically. They invest, which leads to control. They lend money, which leads to control. And they teach. They teach which can lead to control.
However, one of the frustrations I have with my global development course is that by implication everything can be described as a form of control, a form of domination. You go someplace to teach how to do something, but it is perceived as social manipulation and cultural superiority. Where does one draw the line between help and harm?
Recall the example of the Spanish conquistadores. They clearly invaded North and South America. They did so for money and power. They were brutal and cruel. And they tried to stamp out all forms of indigenous religious belief. But the curious thing about that last harmful bit of colonialism was that the Spanish believed it was the right thing to do.
Such belief does not make it the right thing to do, by any means. But if you believe that everyone who is not baptized is going to hell for all eternity, there is at least an internal logic that makes conversion a moral imperative. Because you believe that the universe follows the contours of your belief system, anything you do in this life to prevent such a terrible fate is seen to be far better than damnation.
I also do not mean to minimize the economic domination of colonialism or to support the forced conversion of people because it was somehow well-intended. At points in history, these were common practices. They were common for the Europeans and common for many parts of the world. However, something can be the norm and still be bad, like slavery. These are no longer common practices and so we openly condemn them. Historically, however, we justified slavery and colonialism because of the divine right to conquer others.
What about now? If you believe someone is going to hell if they do not convert, what should you do about it? Do you place ads during the Super Bowl? Do you spread your ideas around the world in the hopes that others will find their way toward righteousness?
Or, do you take such ideas—economic, philosophical, and moral ideas—and declare them to be the right answers for any and all questions of development? This is what a good country does and this is how a good person thinks and acts. The Protestant work ethic. Neo-liberal philosophy. Good old capitalism. These are all intellectual fixtures of American and European thought and they dovetail perfectly with Christian culture. Christian culture, which is something entirely different from Christian theology.
Recall a line from scripture: For when I was an hungry, you gave me meat; when I was thirsty, you gave me drink; when I was a stranger, and you took me in; when I was naked, and you clothed me; when I was sick, and you visited me; when I was in prison, and you came unto me.
At some point across the centuries, such central teachings of Jesus became secondary to the culture of Christianity. Instead, one often hears the line, “If a man will not work, he shall not eat,” a line borrowed from Paul and grossly misinterpreted. By the way, it was also a favorite line of Lenin. Interpret that how you will.
Under the teachings of Jesus, do we not have an obligation to take care of others? And yet how do we reconcile the need to care for others with the concern about dominating others with culture or money or religion? How do we avoid that?
Centuries ago, Jesuit missionaries traveled to India, trying to convert the local Hindus to Christianity. There was no European occupier in place, so the conversion efforts were entirely voluntary. In India, the Jesuits encountered an ancient and well-developed culture. They decided that, to bring about the conversion process, the Jesuits would target the Brahmin caste. those members of society who were both scholars and religious practitioners.
The Jesuits took an interesting approach. They began to learn the local languages so they could speak directly to those they sought to convince and so they could read the religious scriptures that served as the basis for Hindu belief.
The Jesuits were not successful in their efforts. The Brahmins engaged them in spirited debates on religion, but they were not willing to convert and other people were not quick to embrace Christianity for that reason. Bear in mind that non-Hindus like the Jesuits are not generally believed to be reincarnated. Why give up the promise of new life for the certainty of eternal death?
Anyway, the Jesuits asked and were turned down. When they returned to Rome, the Jesuits were harshly questioned about what they had done. They were accused of shirking their duties and becoming too friendly with the local population. For the church, the right way was the way of the Spanish. To force the local people to change. And that right way requires one group to dominate another to achieve its goals.
And yet, I would say the Jesuits did the truly right thing. They worked to understand the people around them. And then they taught what they believed and asked others to follow them. The people said no, but it was nonetheless the right thing to do.
One of the lessons human beings need to learn is that people must be given the right to choose. To choose their religion, to choose their culture. To choose who they love in this life and who they wish to be in this life. Another aspect of that right to choose is the right to choose differently. We must grow comfortable with giving others the right to “go to hell.” Not that they will go to hell, but that they can make choices different from our choices—choices we would not make and choices of which we do not approve.
I for one do not believe that God expects us all to believe, act, or love alike. And just as my behavior should not be inflicted upon others without their consent, my beliefs should not be inflicted upon them if they do not happen to be in the market for a new set of beliefs.
The stories about transfiguration have to do with light shining forth from a person as a sign that they have been in the presence of the divine. That does not come up too often in normal life, but the light of our beliefs and the example of our actions does cast a certain light upon the world. That proverbial light is the proper way to invite others to follow the ways of Jesus because that is the best way to present how Jesus has called us to live.
And if there is no light shining through those examples, is it any wonder others are not willing to follow along willingly?
Amen.
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