To live - to seek love, to grow grapes, to know the sun will rise - is the naked expression of a hope so transcendent it becomes synonymous with Faith. The traditions of the oppressed and persecuted hold this hope tenderly through the violence of this world; it is in constantly stoked trust that the tumult of the threshing room will separate the wheat of humanity from the chaff of greed, that the crush of suffering will bring about true wine of communal liberation. Christianity at its best lives here, at the foot of the Cross, as a comfort to those most downtrodden that Christ will rise again, that Babylon and Rome and every empire will crumble, leaving only the divine love in which humanity is meant to reside. How strange then that contemporary Christian Zionism and Evangelical Nationalism have become hell-bent on bringing about the Apocalypse. We see this both theologically: the forced fulfillment of misinterpreted prophecy in the books of Isaiah and Revelation, the anti-human eschatology rampant in all walks of U.S. christianity, the ‘holy war’ our empire is losing in Palestine, Lebanon, and Iran, but also materially, in the way this country worships war, profit, and power over the infinite dignity and joy inherent in every human life. I am remiss to critique any faith that is not my own, but here it must be said: these governments, these ideas, these actions, are unilaterally in opposition to God, disconnected from any religion in genuine communion with Christ’s incarnation, and wholly misled in their understanding of history, commandment, and prophecy. In some small effort to understand our current lives, this talk will be an exploration of Abrahamic apocalypse narratives, from the fall of Babylon, to the birth of Jesus, to the destruction of the Second Temple, the fall of Rome, into the many ends this world has seen at the hands of empire, colonialism, and genocide. More than this though, it will be an exploration of the future world we are constantly pulled toward by divine Love, one in which the harmony of initial Creation rises again from the ashes of empire.
Go, station a watchman, let him tell what he sees:
Fallen, fallen is Babylon!
Beatrice Barrar makes wine in the watersheds of the Columbia and Willamette rivers from whatever grapes and other fruit she can gather: through community, through foraging, or through barter. In her free time she writes poetry and waits for God. This is her second talk at OEL, and her first time on Earth.
To live - to seek love, to grow grapes, to know the sun will rise - is the naked expression of a hope so transcendent it becomes synonymous with Faith. The traditions of the oppressed and persecuted hold this hope tenderly through the violence of this world; it is in constantly stoked trust that the tumult of the threshing room will separate the wheat of humanity from the chaff of greed, that the crush of suffering will bring about true wine of communal liberation. Christianity at its best lives here, at the foot of the Cross, as a comfort to those most downtrodden that Christ will rise again, that Babylon and Rome and every empire will crumble, leaving only the divine love in which humanity is meant to reside. How strange then that contemporary Christian Zionism and Evangelical Nationalism have become hell-bent on bringing about the Apocalypse. We see this both theologically: the forced fulfillment of misinterpreted prophecy in the books of Isaiah and Revelation, the anti-human eschatology rampant in all walks of U.S. christianity, the ‘holy war’ our empire is losing in Palestine, Lebanon, and Iran, but also materially, in the way this country worships war, profit, and power over the infinite dignity and joy inherent in every human life. I am remiss to critique any faith that is not my own, but here it must be said: these governments, these ideas, these actions, are unilaterally in opposition to God, disconnected from any religion in genuine communion with Christ’s incarnation, and wholly misled in their understanding of history, commandment, and prophecy. In some small effort to understand our current lives, this talk will be an exploration of Abrahamic apocalypse narratives, from the fall of Babylon, to the birth of Jesus, to the destruction of the Second Temple, the fall of Rome, into the many ends this world has seen at the hands of empire, colonialism, and genocide. More than this though, it will be an exploration of the future world we are constantly pulled toward by divine Love, one in which the harmony of initial Creation rises again from the ashes of empire.
Go, station a watchman, let him tell what he sees:
Fallen, fallen is Babylon!
Beatrice Barrar makes wine in the watersheds of the Columbia and Willamette rivers from whatever grapes and other fruit she can gather: through community, through foraging, or through barter. In her free time she writes poetry and waits for God. This is her second talk at OEL, and her first time on Earth.
Image 1 of 3
Image 2 of 3
Image 3 of 3