faith for free thinkers

Creation

2012-01-02T10:41:00.002-05:00

So there’s One.

To One, a thought occurs:

Two.

What a lonely thought that must first be!

And, BANG, there’sLight and Dark. One can work with that.

Next comes Matter and Doesn’t Matter. One can work with that,too.

And One throws Matter into Doesn’t Matter, all willy-nillyat first, but can’t fill it up. So One puts Matter here and there in ways that One don’t know…sort of makes sense.

In the process, One discovers Thin and Thick. One stretchesMatter from really Thick to Thick to Thin to really Thin in bits and pieces and various gradations throughoutDoesn’t Matter, and sets it all to spinning, circling, zooming and floating.

One gets really excited when certain bits of Matter seem tocatch on to what One is doing. One’s Creationbegins creating.

It isn’t much, at first. Just some particular little bits ofMatter seem to organize and replicate. Then some bits grow identical bits andsplit. This starts to get more and more complex, until some Matter becomesadept at finding other Matter a lot like themselves, and they combine tinypieces and nurture and grow new bits of Matter between them that are almost identical butjust a bit... more-so. Some Matter prefers places where the Matter is fairly thin,some like to be in constant contact with thicker Matter, others float or swimaround where Matter is sort of in between. Much of it has an appetite forinnovation.

One sees Oneself in Two, and sits back and checks it all out.

What is wanting? Whatis needed?

One can’t help Oneself, and reaches out and lightly touchesa bit of a more complex system of Matter. To One’s delight, it turns around.

I’m right here!One says excitedly. Hello!

But instead of waving or smiling or otherwise engaging One, each of these little bits of complex Matter strain unsuccessfully to recognize what isobviously still far beyond their grasp, and, inevitably, each turns to their companions and says “Did you hear that?” or “I think I almost caught a glimpse of something out ofthe corner of my eye.” or “I don’t know, I just have this feeling, you know?”

One recognizes what is happening. Two sees itself as two! And all the separate pieces of Two are individuallywrapped up in dark-or-light, black-or-white, yes-or-no, right-or-wrong,this-or-that; so much so that there is little or no sense of One or even oneness about Two or any of its pieces. Little bits occasionally comeclose to recognizing One before wearing out or breaking or giving up. But the process is soslow and terribly frustrating to watch. It is hard on One, learning that Oneand Two inadvertently make at least three.

So One sits back, occasionally leaning in (Hey, I think I can talk to this piece of Two…).A touch here and a great religion is born. A breath there and a marvelousadvancement is realized. One even tries slipping fully aware into a bit ofmatter to show several little pieces of Two what it is all about, beating apath back to One, but ends up nailed to a post and causing a lot of arguments. Onewhispers into solitary ears on mountain tops, under trees, or in caves andbeautiful ideas are documented, filled with hints of One and profound truths,causing a lot of arguments within the various pieces and parts of Two.

One has to admit to Oneself: Two is biological, binary andbi-polar. There is nothing for it but for One to simply love Two as is, and wait for Two to get itsmeds right and realize its oneness, before the whole of Two can recognize and becomeone with One.

So One waits.

Anyway, there is something tugging at One that meritsattention. It is just a vague stirring, at first. But the idea grows to amaddening whisper from some back corner beyond Matter-Doesn’t Matter; aquestion in need of exploration. One can’t help but steal occasional glancesover One’s own shoulder.

Is there a ONE or MORE I don’trecognize beyond Me, too?

2011-12-05T21:03:00.001-05:00

My daughter wrote this great piece on her blog. I ask all of my readers to follow this link, read and think about what she has to say:

http://daegansquebecadventure.blogspot.com/

Pandora's Happy Meal

2011-12-01T09:46:00.001-05:00

Most people are at least vaguely familiarwith the story of Pandora’s Pithos (that is Pandora’s Jar – not Pandora’s Box,as often mistranslated) – an ancient myth that posits yet another misogynistclaim regarding the introduction of chaos into the world (remember that applein the garden? Who takes advice from a talking snake?!?).

But many folks either forget or never learn the mostintriguing portion of each of these tales:

· Before banishing Adam and Eve from the garden,God sat down at the most high holy sewing machine and made garments of hidesfor them before sending them out into the world (a very tender, poignant momentfor the three of them, not so much for whatever animals had skin in the game.)

· After all the pesky war, famine and pestilencewere released, Pandora noticed a crumpled little thing still in the jar: HOPE.

Both of these foundational myths speak tellingly of ourhuman condition. Most of us possess a certain dignity and decency, and, giventhe opportunity, will do the right thing, given enough information and enoughthinking time to make informed, thoughtful decisions.

Key phrase from previous statement: mostof us.

This week, a new law goes into effect in San Francisco,requiring any restaurant meal accompanied by a free kids toy to meet certainvery basic nutritional requirements. McDonalds immediately snapped into action…charging 10 cents for the crappy little lead-encrusted doodads they place intheir Happy Meals. Get it? They are no longer giving away free toys, so theydon’t have to change the fat, cholesteral and sodium enriched sludge America’syouth is hoovering up at an ever-increasing rate. HAH!

I wanted to grumble about McDonalds, but I can’t imagine anysentient being on this or any planet who can somehow fail to be aware of whatMcDonalds “Food®” does to the human body. I mean, just pull your head up out ofthe trough and check out your fellow diners…

Burger joints marketed to children long before our currentobesity epidemic (Willard Scott was the original Ronald McDonald, and I wouldpay big money for a Foghorn Leghorn or Speedy Gonzalez glass from way back when).

The Garden of Eden and Pandora myths were humanity’sstruggle to reason out why some people did nasty , destructive and/or stupid things.The history of civilization since is wrapped up not so much in origins as whatto DO about evil already present. Our most reality-based answer to date comes from Scottish sociologist and educator R.M. MacIver(1882–1970) who posited in 1926 that youcan’t legislate morality. Even the academes eventually can only throw up their hands, put down thechalk and step out for some fresh air.

Let’s extend this now. McDonalds’ San Francisco Two-Step is reallynothing more than a cynical reflection of a corollary to Dr. MacIvers bonnytruism:

Turns out youcan’t legislate wisdom, either.

But slow down now. Don’t get me wrong. I am sick todeath of the lunk-headed neo-con scream machine ripping into Mrs. Obama formounting an effort to fight childhood obesity. We have a looming health crisisthat is already threatening to overtake our already massive healthcare crisis thatsome would choose to simply whistle past in the dark. The first mom is theperfect person to lead by example, especially on an issue that hits so hard inminority and impoverished populations. Even if we decide we are not our brother’s dietician (and remember the originalspeaker of the original line – humanity’s first murderer), since we are allliving in America, we all pay for some people’s bad choices through higherinsurance rates, skyrocketing medical costs, over-crowded hospitals and some reallywide, slow folks in the grocery store snack aisles.

Mrs. Obama’s is a sane, rational approach, and an appropriate use of herelevated, influential position. With Type II diabetes nearing epidemic status,obesity rates increasing exponentially among our children, and factory farmsturning out cheap, cruelly produced, chemical/hormone/bacteria tainted“mcfood,” Pandora’s Happy Meal Box has already been opened. With McDonalds spending more than $2billion a year on advertising, the chaos is swirling and winning. What can we do?

Constitutional scholars, libertarians and deep-pocketed corporatesycophants aren’t about to let us impose healthy eating habits on the generalpublic, but we can relentlessly clothe every person within earshot in wisdom ontheir way to the marketplace (For example, I highly recommend the movies“Super-size Me” and “Food, Inc.” every chance I get.). Four of the people Ilove most dearly in this world (my wife, daughter, sister and brother) arehealthy food evangelists. The rest of us should speak up as well.

We can’t outlaw junk food, but, perhaps, even with so much damage already done, and in the shadow of all that money and corporate influence, we can still scrape Hope up out ofthe empty Happy Meal box. When you can't legislate, educate.

Understand the Fuss

2011-11-17T08:12:00.001-05:00

It was just shy of 20 years ago at a leisurely breakfast table in County Roscommon, Ireland. We had finished our porridge, scrambled eggs and scones after a solid night's sleep at the Bed and Breakfast. The other guests had just departed, some dressed in auto-racing jackets. The room still glowed with the warmth of travel tales, Irish brogues and easy laughter as Teresa and I enjoyed a quiet cup of coffee before we, too, would hit the road. The innkeeper cleared dishes and doted on us.

As we prepared to leave, we complimented our host on her hospitality and the quality of the breakfast conversation we had just enjoyed as the lone Americans among a dozen Irish guests.

"Yes," she said in her marvelous lilt, nodding her head slowly. "They're just like us, aren't they? I don't understand the fuss."

Reading our baffled looks, she explained herself.

"The Northerners, I mean. They're no different than us."

Visiting from the other side of the ocean, we two Yanks hadn't recognized that half the guests had been Catholic Irish, and the other half Protestant Northern Irish. This was a vital distinction to those closer in, but Teresa and I missed the whole conflicted under-current.

I've often reflected on this small treasure of a memory from my particular spot on the tiny, spinning rock all humans call home. I imagine all the vital distinctions dividing our race would be quite imperceptible to any visitor from beyond our fragile atmosphere. Still, this is the soup inwhich we swim... our reality.

I mention this because we have just passed Veterans' Day. I know some people are quite uncomfortable with this and the Memorial Day holidays. Some believe these observances are turned into a promotion of the military-industrial complex and the glorification of war. The point does have some resonance for me. War is undoubtedly the worst of human innovations: a true mark of abysmal failure in EVERY case.

War is hell.

I heard an interview recently with a soldier who had done multiple tours in Iraq. He, like many, had been placed in a position where he had to kill other human beings. He is certain that he killed several. He said that near the end of his final tour he had started to think before each patrol that he just wanted to make it home, no differently than any person likely to be in his gunsights that day.

That is hell.

I hold other stories, but they aren't mine to share. They came out in hoarse whispers late at night when others had gone to bed, or within concrete walls after staff and family footsteps had long since trailed away down long hallways. They are harrowing memories, and mostly involve what must be done to survive amid unspeakable carnage. Such stories are not welcomed from lofty pulpits or flag-bedecked platforms erected on village greens.

That is hell.

Let's never forget those who go through hell.

It is not lost on me that many who chant "freedom isn't free" are turning a hefty profit waging war. Also, somehow, it is never their sons and daughters shooting and being shot -- nor, typically, the sons and daughters of the elected officials they own. The parting wisdom of President/General Dwight D. Eisenhower should be carved on every forehead in America. He called it, didn't he?

But two days a year I still choose to publicly recognize en masse the horror we have elected to put many of our brothers and sisters through. Phone calls and/or visits are made, too. I don't wrap it in flags and patriotic platitudes. I recognize horror, hardship and sacrifice. Don't even dream of suggesting that's not appropriate.

It is so tragic what we humans put ourselves through.

Scripture and Three Sentences Regarding Troy Davis

2011-09-22T07:56:00.000-04:00

Early in the morning he came againto the temple. All the people came to him and he sat down and began to teachthem. The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught inadultery; and making her stand before all of them, they said to him, ‘Teacher,this woman was caught in the very act of committing adultery. Now in the lawMoses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?’ They said this totest him, so that they might have some charge to bring against him. Jesus bentdown and wrote with his finger on the ground. When they kept on questioninghim, he straightened up and said to them, ‘Let anyone among you who is withoutsin be the first to throw a stone at her.’ And once again he bent down andwrote on the ground. When they heard it, they went away, one by one, beginningwith the elders; and Jesus was left alone with the woman standing before him.Jesus straightened up and said to her, ‘Woman, where are they? Has no onecondemned you?’ She said, ‘No one, sir.’ And Jesus said, ‘Neither do I condemnyou. Go your way, and from now on do not sin again.’ – John 8:1-11

We tieourselves in knots debating issues about which Jesus was silent, yet some of usChristians have no problem defying Jesus when he spoke quite clearly andspecifically on an issue.

Followers ofChrist do not execute criminals, even when they are guilty of that which onethousand years of law says is a capital offense. Or is the teaching of Jesus nolonger valid?

Remember. Reflect. Revive.

2011-09-08T13:49:00.001-04:00

We humans almost always have five fingers on each of two hands. As aresult, base ten is the numeralsystem chosen by most modern civilizations (Chinese, Roman, Brahmi-Hindu, and ourown adopted Arabic, for example). We are therefore accustomed to assigningsignificance to groupings in multiples of five and ten. We are culturally –indeed, biologically – predisposed tosee a 10^th anniversary as more significant than a seventh or 11^thfor no other reason beyond our anatomy. Biology then dictates that thisyear is a particular time to look back and reflect on an historic, shocking seriesof events and their aftermath. So be it.

As a pastor, it is sometimes my job to prayerfully reflectand comment on things plaguing us en masse spiritually and psychologically…even physically. This is the case for the 10^th anniversary of the9-11 attacks. I felt I couldn’t do so with integrity without first re-openingthe wound and reliving the horror of that day. I have just spent the past hour watching the twintours get hit, listening to 911 and airline dispatch recordings of the lastmoments of some who would perish that tragic day, the FAA recordings of callsbetween air-traffic controllers, airline and government officials, and BettyOng (a brave, frightened stewardess on American Flight 11), and thestill-tearful remembrances of a young man who was in his first days ofkindergarten the day he lost his grandpa, and a father who lost two sons: a firefighter and a cop.

My initial reaction are as follows:

POLITICAL

To all my progressive friends: Watch footage ofpeople hanging out of the burning WTC and jumping to their deaths, then tell meif it is appropriate to label tea-party activists and their representatives terrorists, even as a “rhetoricaldevice.”
To all my conservative friends: Listen toMohammad Atta’s cold, condescending voice from the cockpit of American Flight 11,and then tell me if even the most obnoxious liberals really hate America.

With much of our initial response in the hands of ordinarycitizens, fear, hubris, violence and bureaucratic ineptitude did not rule theday on September 11, 2001, Neither should they now. It’s all bread andcircuses, my friends, in combination with Orwellian reports ofdouble-plus-ungood happenings on all the faceless fronts around the world. Ourwhole political system and our major media are fueled by fear and hubris.Figures, since they’re both owned and operated by the same lot.

But please don’t accuse me of government bashing, as a goodnumber of those who died that day ten fingers ago were government employees.Their actions were self-less, expert and performed without flinching. God blessthe Civil Servants! It's all over without them.

HUMANITARIAN

Because we have five fingers on each of two hands, abroadcasting corporation recently thought it would be a good idea to askAfghanis for their thoughts on the approaching 10^th anniversary ofthe September 11^th attacks. To their shock, they found that 90% ofAghan citizens apparently had no knowledge of the attacks, and, when shownfootage of the fiery WTC collapse, many mistakenly guessed it was happening in Kabul. In other words, the list of innocent victims of 9-11 continues togrow by the tens of thousands. On this, our 10-finger anniversary of 3000innocent deaths, why do we not feel the same or even greater horror when weconsider the six-figure-and-counting death toll of innocent Iraqis, Afghanis andPakistanis killed through our ongoing massive, sledge-hammer response to 9-11?

If that question angers you, try to think of these people ashuman beings, not simply foreigners (they aren't, as they are in their own countries) or “collateral damage” (relegating their right to life as inferior to our "security and strategic interests"). Our representative democracy has visited hell on millionsof innocent human beings. We are accountable.

RELIGIOUS

Crackpots will use any tool they can find to wreak theirhavoc. I sure do wish they’d leaveoff religion for a while. Our churches, synagogues, temples and mosques arefrequented mostly by people with good heads on their shoulders and the best ofintentions in their hearts. Sadly, that in turn attracts both the desperately mindless, and the nasty people with anti-christ complexes, too.A few of the nasties are adept at attracting the gullible and desperate, pushingbuttons and tripping wires, leading to the carnage-inducing freak-parade wehave suffered through these past few thousand years. God weeps.

“Remember. Reflect. Revive.” Is the theme of our church’sRally Day program this Sunday. We will be following these three Rs for a lotmore than the ten-finger anniversary of a brutal terrorist attack. We will alsobe remembering

· our duty to cultivate and educate our minds aswe confirm several youths into our church,
· our gifts from God when we sing a ridiculousnumber of wonderful songs on Sunday, including my personal favorite hymn ofnational life: O God of Every Nation,
· our obligation to seek and embrace the hard,unvarnished truth when we preach, teach and converse about these issues,
· our responsibility as compassionate Christianswhen we send our folks out into the world to love it back into shape.

You’re welcome to join us if you find yourself in the areaSunday morning. Beyond that, I would suggest the best antidote to violentzealotry is to pick up and read the holy books for yourself. Even better, findsome other folks and look through them together.

As always, I invite your feedback on this post. In thiscase, I’d like to focus it a bit with two simple questions:

Where were you as 9-11 unfolded?

Where are you now as a result?

When Compromise is Compromised

2011-07-12T09:30:00.001-04:00

How very good and pleasant it is when kindred live together in unity!
It is like the precious oil on the head, running down upon the beard,
on the beard of Aaron, running down over the collar of his robes.
It is like the dew of Hermon, which falls on the mountains of Zion.
For there the Lord ordained his blessing, life for evermore. -- Psalm 133

I've been sitting for a few days on an e-mail chain letter sent to me by a beloved relative. The thing is dripping with muddled thinking, wild diatribe, and delusion. But I've sat on it. Maybe this relative reads my blog. I don't know. Not sure what to do, so I'll follow my usual mantra in such confounding, hair-triggering moments: "Don't just DO something, STAND THERE." Pause. Breathe deeply. Think it through.

I am deeply concerned for my country. This liberal-conservative wrestling match is refereed, broadcast and performed much like a WWE match: the two sides pound their chests and scream death and destruction down on the "evil" other side and will stoop ever lower to gouge, thump and kick their way to victory; the "journalists" are little more than hucksters promoting the fight with breathless credulity and fire-breathing graphics; and the referees conveniently have their heads turned as the rules are broken... if they agree to enforce any rules at all. Is there even a rule book anymore?!?

Worse, I've come to believe the bulk of our electorate is addicted to this match-play mindset, with our no-fall, 20-minute time limit attention span.

Little or nothing constructive can be accomplished in such a circus environment. Thoughtful analysis and careful consideration are drowned out by the carnival barkers whose sole task is to grab attention and keep the money flowing from every passing suckers' pocket into their tills.

If we ever stop the three active wars we are currently waging overseas, we'll find that the real battle is an uncivil war of such magnitude and ferocity that it has swallowed up our political system, most of our media and the daily head-space of almost every voting American.

I was happy to hear these words from President Obama at yesterday's press conference:

"My experience with John Boehner has been good. I think he's a good man who wants to do right by the country. I think that it's a -- as Chip alluded to, the politics that swept him into the speakership were good for a midterm election; they're tough for governing. And part of what the Republican caucus generally needs to recognize is that American democracy works when people listen to each other, we're willing to give each other the benefit of the doubt, we assume the patriotism and good intentions of the other side, and we're willing to make some sensible compromises to solve big problems. And I think that there are members of that caucus who haven't fully arrived at that realization yet."
GEORGE CONDON: So your confidence in him wasn't shaken by him walking away from the big deal he said he wanted?
THE PRESIDENT: "These things are a tough process. And, look, in fairness, a big deal would require a lot of work on the part of Harry Reid and Nancy Pelosi and myself to bring Democrats along. But the point is, is if everybody gets in the boat at the same time, it doesn't tip over. I think that was Bob Dole's famous comment after striking a deal with the President and Mr. Gingrich back in the '90s. And that is always the case when it comes to difficult but important tasks like this."

With everyone addicted to incendiaries and head-slams into turnbuckles, what can compromise possibly bring? We first need to ratchet down the bloodsport, ratchet up the level of discourse, and gain a clear grasp of what exactly is going on. THEN we find our path of action. The first step to reasonable compromise is REASON, which is so lacking at the moment. Without it, our ability to compromise is compromised.

Of Androids, the Good Shepherd and the 4th of July

2011-07-02T19:14:00.000-04:00

MATTHEW 11: Now when Jesus had finished instructing his twelve disciples, he went on from there to teach and proclaim his message in their cities.

When John heard in prison what the Messiah was doing, he sent word by his disciples and said to him, ‘Are you the one who is to come, or are we to wait for another?’ Jesus answered them, ‘Go and tell John what you hear and see: the blind receive their sight, the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the poor have good news brought to them. And blessed is anyone who takes no offence at me.’

As they went away, Jesus began to speak to the crowds about John: ‘What did you go out into the wilderness to look at? A reed shaken by the wind? What then did you go out to see? Someone dressed in soft robes? Look, those who wear soft robes are in royal palaces. What then did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet. This is the one about whom it is written, “See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you,  who will prepare your way before you.”  Truly I tell you, among those born of women no one has arisen greater than John the Baptist; yet the least in the kingdom of heaven is greater than he. From the days of John the Baptist until now the kingdom of heaven has suffered violence, and the violent take it by force. For all the prophets and the law prophesied until John came; and if you are willing to accept it, he is Elijah who is to come. Let anyone with ears listen!

‘But to what will I compare this generation? It is like children sitting in the market-places and calling to one another,  “We played the flute for you, and you did not dance;  we wailed, and you did not mourn.”  For John came neither eating nor drinking, and they say, “He has a demon”; the Son of Man came eating and drinking, and they say, “Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax-collectors and sinners!” Yet wisdom is vindicated by her deeds.’

Then he began to reproach the cities in which most of his deeds of power had been done, because they did not repent. ‘Woe to you, Chorazin! Woe to you, Bethsaida! For if the deeds of power done in you had been done in Tyre and Sidon, they would have repented long ago in sackcloth and ashes. But I tell you, on the day of judgement it will be more tolerable for Tyre and Sidon than for you. And you, Capernaum, will you be exalted to heaven?  No, you will be brought down to Hades. For if the deeds of power done in you had been done in Sodom, it would have remained until this day. But I tell you that on the day of judgement it will be more tolerable for the land of Sodom than for you.’

At that time Jesus said, ‘I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants; yes, Father, for such was your gracious will. All things have been handed over to me by my Father; and no one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and anyone to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.

‘Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.’

(Forgive me for including an entire chapter of Matthew for this post. It is just that there is so much here, and it is all too vital – especially in these conflicted times – to leave anything out.)

I just finished watching again for the first time in years the Ridley Scott 1982 cult classic Blade Runner, based on the novel Of Androids and Electric Sheep. It is an amazing movie. I assume most of you know it, but I’ll recap for the uninitiated:

Harrison Ford is a former cop and “blade runner” in 2019. His job is to terminate renegade android slaves. He is pulled back in to hunt down a group of particularly nasty ”replicants.” These creatures were implanted with a lifetime of false memories, but were programmed to wear out (that is, "die") after only four years. The renegade replicants have returned to find their maker and to ask to be modified to live longer. By midway through the movie, you realize the androids feel as much or more than the humans, and the climactic scene – the final conflict between the chief android (played by Rutger Hauer) and Harrison Ford’s bounty hunter – blurs the lines between US and THEM so completely as to leave the viewer befuddled as to the desired outcome. So strong is the gradually built identification with OTHER, and the recognition of the innate drive to survive, love and thrive.

It seems to me that much of the spirit of this movie could have been lifted directly from the 11^th chapter of Matthew. No, seriously:

· Jesus comes to a broken, violent and confusing world and teaches all who would listen to value life above all else, and to define more loosely and think and see more broadly in welcome of the other.

· John the Baptist, in prison and soon to be executed, has a moment of doubt about his cousin and asks through an intermediary if Jesus truly is the messiah or if they should wait for another.

· Jesus’ proof of his messiah-ship is the degree to which he has reached out and healed and helped the OTHER in Judea…the blind, lame, leprous, deaf, dead and poor – that is, everyone society would crush or try to forget.

· Jesus goes on to challenge all who would hear: “What are you looking at? What are you looking for? The key to the Kingdom is so obvious and so simple that a child can grasp it. Indeed, only those who can open themselves unselfishly (like a child) will come to the great humble, gentle key to life abundant. The burden of liberty in me is sooooo light!”*

When questioned by John as to his legitimacy, Jesus offers as evidence all he has done for the other: the outcast, down-trodden, ailing and persecuted. He further challenges all who are protectors of the status quo that they are in serious danger of missing the kingdom of heaven.

The ministry and path of Jesus are all about a brash, fearless, even RADICAL openness and love for (indeed, IDENTIFICATION WITH) the other, aren't they? Our faiths and religions should necessarily follow that lead. But we don’t always do that particularly well, do we? Often, our religions and political actions rally around what we aren’t and who we won’t accept. We end up choosing "long-standing tradition" or "strategic interests" over that which represents love and self-determination. In other words, we one day wake up and find that we are on the wrong side of some important event.

July 4^th is the perfect time to bring this up. When we reflect on the promise of the great human experiment in self-governance, it behooves us to realize that our nation is founded on the very Christ-like principle of a far-flung, wildly varied us-tent, not an us and not them fence:

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that ALL* men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. That to secure these rights, governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed.

Doesn’t this foundational document clearly state how radically wide open and welcoming America and Americans are supposed to be?

But the most important part of all is not that famous quote from the second paragraph, but the last sentence of the document:

“…with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes and our sacred honor.”

That’s right, every participant in the American experiment has thrown his/her lot in with the rest. We each pledge our lives, resources and sacred honor to the happiness, liberty and well being of every other American!!

Neither Christianity nor democracy are exclusionary, but EXUBERANT. Neither Christianity nor democracy are museum-grade pure, but five-second-rule PICNIC. We all want more life, and life abundant. We should all help each other get there, regardless.

May our lines of demarcation be evermore blurred. May our political leanings be ever harder to pin down. May we learn to pity piety and go wild with wideness. Wouldn’t that be marvelously human, gloriously American, and wonderfully Christian of us?

Rugged Communalists Unite!

2011-05-13T16:13:00.001-04:00

Call it a preview of Sunday's sermon, I'm focusing a lot these days on the tension between individual and communal impulses in our world and, especially, our religions.

It all started with NPR, of course. The world would be a much better place if we all spent half an hour or so every day digging through their various reports and wild hairs. Here's what got me started:

NPR: Is the end nigh? We'll know soon enough.

This is Harold Camping, an 89 year-old preacher who – since the world didn’t end on September 6, 1994, as he originally predicted – has come to the irrefutable conclusion that a series of devastating earthquakes will spell rapture and the end of the world on May 21 at 6 p.m… That’s right, one week from Saturday, as I write this. Be sure and make it an early dinner that night.

Harold has ambled along in this belief for some time, broadcasting it on his Family Radio program. It has led a handful of folks to quit their jobs, cash in their 401(k)s, get divorced (ya think?!?), and take to the streets to hand out tracts and preach the rapture to all who would hear.

You and I know there have been plenty of doomsday-ers through the millennia. Fervent crackpots, we consider them. Some are harmless, others much worse. But each of them must be at least somewhat aware of the poor track record of End-of-the-World types (even Jesus is quoted as saying HE hadn’t a clue when it would happen – and that’s the Gospel truth).

But here’s the thing: At some point in the next million years or so, one of these guys and gals is going to trip into perfect timing: the asteroid will hit, the sun will go szzztz, the earth will crack like an egg, or some other random or human-instigated calamity will send us off our orbit, and, just before our vital organs and/or bionic/android parts are vaporized in the cold, dark vacuum of space, that individual may have just enough time to cap human history with the mother of all I-told-you-so’s. Apparently this dark cosmic lottery is an attractive possibility for would-be prophets of destruction. They’re willing to go waaaay out on that limb by themselves and then call a few gullible fools out there with them, each of whom also burns with a need to be right in some spectacular way nobody else can match. This story brought alternating chuckles and groans. I just pray Mr. Camping isn’t next to me saying “I told you so” a week from Saturday just before I go szzztz in the yawning vacuum of space.

So then I check the NPR sidebar and find this story:

the loneliest plant in the world

The story is all about a plant found in Africa in 1895, a male cutting of which was carried to London, where it sat inside for 98 years, only to wake up and find it had been out of circulation for so long, there were no female plants left to date. They believe this one male plant, which dutifully produces pollen and frequents singles’ garden happy hours, is all that is left of E. Woodii. It can be cloned, but only to produce more males, and no female counterpart has been found (and, yes, the article does mention the Ents’ dilemma from Lord of the Rings, so let’s not breathe another Tolkienian word about it… as I am trying to maintain the illusion that I am only a partial dork.)

You can’t help but feel sorry for this guy. He’s out there all alone, with little to no hope of ever settling down with a little Mrs. E. Woodii. Truly, nobody wants to be that isolated, that special.

I believe it was God – talking to only-God-knows-Who – who said “it is not good that man should be alone.” And who would know better, as we were dreamed up by the Holy One as a solution to Her own solitary non-confinement? We are meant to come together, not break apart.

We are built of the stuff just laying around, fed starlight in one form or another, taught to embrace and apply all the best thoughts thought up so far, and basically tool about the planet that claims us as one of its many little 80-year migratory pimples. The thought of any of us being an individual is rather jaw-dropping, when framed in such a manner.

So, from now on I am going to strive to be a Rugged Communalist. I want to recognize more clearly that I am the product of so much borrowed heat and light. I don’t want to distance myself from the competition, a la Harold Camping. Heck, I don’t want to experience competition in such things. I’d rather just throw it all in the God box, hang on to my wife/kids/friends/job/community/world/semi-sanity, strive to DO right over BE right, and pray never to become the faith equivalent of E. Woodii.

Pausing Bears Fruit...

2011-04-24T12:50:00.000-04:00

So I took six weeks off from Facebook and this blog. It was Lent, and I thought it was a good idea to turn my face from the screen for some reflection and growth. It was time well spent.

I love the new reality of online communities, but, for me, it was eating into my personal time and face-to-face relationships. Sure enough, my time away was warmed by the fire of two great Lenten discussion groups at my church, and an explosion of creativity in preparation for my band's 3rd CD. I also had time to see and feel my life in ways I had neglected for some time.

As a pastor, I am profoundly blessed to be invited into many other people's sacred moments. I wonder if my pastor-colleagues have found what I have found -- that many ministerial experiences leave a definite residue which sticks to the mind, heart and soul, and must be processed. These can accumulate over time, and lead to a certain opaqueness in our own lives (blindness, even, if we let things go too long).

For me, one of these was the motorcycle-accident death of a high school classmate, Jeff Broadwell. It is not that Jeff and I were particularly close, but he was an amazing guy, living his life large and out loud. I had last seen him at our 20th reunion, and he was just as full of life and adventure as ever. It pleased me to see that he had grown up, but not old. He had kept the covenants of his youth, expanding on them and finding new thrills and wonders just a few steps beyond where the rest of us stopped and turned around.

At any rate, I found myself writing a song that seemed to pour out of me from somewhere, and afterward I realized it was really about Jeff. I will be posting a demo version of the song on my band's Facebook page pretty soon, and I'm hoping dbdb will soon be performing it. Here are the words, which tell me that Jeff has left something of great value in me, given me an insight I might not otherwise have. I will be asking his parents for permission to dedicate the song to him on the CD.

The Boy Who Wouldn't Come In

It's wild beyond the window,

wide open past the door.

There's so much out inside of me,

and summer’s here once more...

I will not heed your call tonight,

not with summer here again.

I'm eyes to skies and foot to flight,

(call me) the boy who wouldn't come in.

Your distant, pleading siren song

I hear it hasten down the wind

It no longer pulls so strong

Not on the boy who wouldn't come in.

It's summer forever.

It's wild beyond the window,

wide open past the door.

There's so much out inside of me,

and summer’s here once more...

In just one stride I lost the how

of ruler, clock and pen.

Halls and walls mean nothing now

Not to the boy who wouldn't come in.

It’s summer forever.

I hold coyote secrets tight

I dance with ancient kin.

I wave with rye and drink moonlight.

I'm the boy...

I run with untamed mysteries.

I hold no faith in fact.

I'm well past hours or inches now,

and I'm never coming back...

forever.

I guess I'm just saying to take time to listen to your inner life... I mean right now take a moment. Take a breath. Feel it.

We can get so caught up in surface activities that we forget to occasionally dive deeper... live deeper.

It's good to be back. Peace to you all.

Rev. Corey Keyes' Big Announcement

2011-02-23T09:47:00.001-05:00

Thank you all for coming. I have a brief announcement, then I will field your questions.

I have decided against seeking the nomination to run for President of the United States in 2012. I repeat: I will not seek the presidency in 2012.

Several months of exploration, day after day of fervent prayer, and a six-pack of Labatt’s Blue all went into this decision, which is final. Here are my solemn vowels… the reasons I will not run:

America needs a strong leader, now more than ever: an individual of singular vision, steel-spined determination and bold action.

That ain’t me. It is not uncommon for me to spend ten minutes in the cereal aisle debating the pros and cons of Post versus store brand. Any “Special Interest” lobbyist, corporate multi-nationalist or international terrorist appearing at the Oval Office door with a cute l’il abandon kitten would get whatever they want from me, especially if the international terrorist was three feet tall, wore pigtails and spoke with a slight lithp.

Elitism has run rampant in the Oval Office.

And THAT is a very good thing. In the 222 year history of the U.S. Presidency, only 44 men have held the post. The President of the United States is the single most powerful human being on planet earth. Elite is a given. Please, let him/her hold a degree from a university that wouldn’t accept my application for a parking pass. Let him/her speak four languages. May he/she have no idea who Snooki is. Let him/her be smarter, more successful and far more erudite than I could ever hope to be.

Elite I am not, and elite the president must be.

Informed individuals only need apply.

As ashamed as I am to admit it, I get most of my news from NPR, PBS and the BBC, so I spent my morning watching the Network news shows this a.m., just to see how out-of-touch with the American people I have allowed myself to become.

Did you know that someone named Justin Bieber got a haircut?!? People are, like, all “OH MY GAWD!” He lost 80,000 Twitter followers over it!

And not only that, Charlie Sheen is now dating a mystery blonde with a history in graphic…design?!? And, like, Kate and Prince William are really going just cuh-razy planning their wedding, while perfectly adorable and notoriously mischievous Prince Harry is planning the Bachelor Party?!? And Sarah Palin is all, like, “whateverrrr…” over this book her former BFF is writing about how absolutely SKANK she really is?

I didn’t know these matters of greatest importance to the American people, as NPR, PBS and BBC fritter away my precious time with distracting reports of two American-led wars, revolutionary meltdowns in Northern Africa and the Middle East, national and international economic crises, renewed labor struggles funded by the Koch brothers, and the role of new media in the spread of democratic ideals, perhaps reducing the influence of Islamic extremism. (Honestly, how ironic that the only way to miss all the coverage of the royal wedding is to watch the BRITISH Broadcasting Corporation?!?)

I’m just too poorly informed and out of touch with the American people, I guess.

Underdog 9 a.m. every Friday morning on the Cartoon Network. Cabinet meetings and tense, eleventh hour negotiations would have to wait until I knew Sweet Polly Purebread was absolutely safe.

So there you have it in a nutshell. I will not seek the nomination, and, if nominated, I will not run, and, if I run, I will not win, and, if I win, I will not serve, and if I serve, I will not… I think you get the picture.

All this to say, I think I’d make a really poor president. What kind of president would you be? Huh?

Stand Up, Stand Out

2011-02-08T10:37:00.000-05:00

Standing Up, Standing Out

…to act faithfully is a matter of your own choice. -- Sirach 15:15

I just watched the most astounding movie. Temple Grandin is a stunning portrayal (by the incredible Claire Danes) of a real person; her genius and her autism. We will be showing this movie at our church this Saturday evening at 7 p.m. in our Christian Ed wing. Please come. The showing will be part of a weekend devoted to a central concept we carry with us in our ministry at West Bloomfield UCC:

Community, not conformity.

We will continue with this concept in worship Sunday at 10 a.m., and with a give-and-take information session for those considering joining our church at 11 a.m.

I believe religious movements often go awry in the insistence that everyone think, believe and do the exact same thing. Narrow conformity is stilting, anti-creative and paralyzing, and is nothing like what Jesus meant when he spoke of “the narrow gate and hard road that leads to life,” (Matthew 7:13 – smack dab in the middle of the sermon in which he begins with “judge not, lest ye be judged,” moves on to the Golden Rule, and ends with an admonition not to simply say ‘Lord, Lord’ and go about casting out what we perceive as other people’s ‘demons,’ as if that is what he asks of us. No, clearly from the context of the full pericope, Jesus is calling us through the narrow gate that strips off our pride, self-promotion and grandiose self-perceptions. The gate is narrow, preventing us from carrying our own extraneous baggage through it, making us better traveling companions on the hard road beyond!).

If we are, indeed, pilgrims on a journey, how much better the trip if we accept, encourage and celebrate each other and ourselves. The movie documents how Temple met resistance at every turn, but also had a handful of people in her life who encouraged her, helped open new doors for her, and saw beyond the quirks and awkward manners to the brilliance of her strange ideas. To do this with the Temple Grandins in our own lives is not without risk, heart-ache and frustration. Things don’t always work according to plan when we open ourselves to other. But Christ tells us over and over again to risk it anyway. Life is far richer for such openness.

I am very proud of this faith community I pastor. We are a loose amalgamation of outlooks and beliefs. We are not like-minded in the traditional sense, but we are LIKE-minded in the sense that our first impulse is to LIKE each other (not regardless of difference, but, rather, with a high regard for difference). Every stranger we welcome in adds to the beauty of the community, carrying experiences and perceptions that are unique and uniquely compelling.

A building is a box, but a church is a community:

We come with beautiful secrets

We come with purposes written on our hearts, written on our souls

We come to every new morning

With possibilities only we can hold, that only we can hold

Redemption comes in strange place, small spaces

Calling out the best of who we are

And I want to add to the beauty

To tell a better story

I want to shine with the light

That's burning up inside

It comes in small inspirations

It brings redemption to life and work

To our lives and our work

It comes in loving community

It comes in helping a soul find it's worth

Redemption comes in strange places, small spaces

Calling out the best of who we are

And I want to add to the beauty

To tell a better story

I want to shine with the light

That's burning up inside

This is grace, an invitation to be beautiful

This is grace, an invitation

Redemption comes in strange places, small spaces

Calling out our best

And I want to add to the beauty

To tell a better story

I want to shine with the light

That's burning up inside

Waging Peace - A Perspective

2011-01-31T13:52:00.000-05:00

A friend and colleague, Rev. Rodney Noel Saunders, writes this regular letter that I am privileged to receive. I have received permission to reprint his most recent missive in its entirety:

FARESPITHE THOUGHTS ON BUILDING SCHOOLS, NOT USING BOMBS AND BULLETS

(FARESPITHE stands for faith, religion, spirituality, theology: “fare” like fair; “spithe” like with)

With serious, even violent, ongoing protests in Egypt, and even some, though not as widespread as yet, in Jordan, Israel must be exceedingly on-edge worried, which likely means all its military, and the US Fleet in the Mediterranean, have been placed on high alert. When I saw what was happening in Egypt I immediately thought, “If this spreads to Jordan this could really be a terrible mess.” Those two countries have peace treaties with Israel, yet also have the longest borders with Israel. Egypt also has the Suez Canal and if that were threatened the western world’s oil supply could become very limited and very expensive. Both countries function as allies of the US. Yet if either government collapses and is replaced by those thought to be radicals strongly opposed to Israel and the US, then I suspect Israel, under the aggressively conservative leadership of Prime Minister Netanyahu, would not hesitate even minutes before launching a preemptive strike if they felt seriously threatened. That this threat could easily be supported by many other regimes in the area, like Syria, Lebanon, Iran, and even fundamentalists from within Saudi Arabia, is not unthinkable. Then the US would almost certainly become involved in a military conflict on the side of Israel. While some would ask why the US would become involved, many know that the political realities are that no US president could not help our strongest and longest ally in the Middle East. To even pause while the possibility existed that the Jewish nation could be annihilated is simply not possible for any American president. Because I intensely do not want to see such a war, I intensely do not like the developing situation. I think it is the worst-case scenario, but it is very possible, as I see it.

Now there are some who would immediately think—“Armageddon”. I am not one of those because this is not about that ancient prophecy which only reflected the fact that the Plain of Armageddon/Megiddo just happens to sit at the conjunction of three continents—Europe, Africa, and Asia, and in the ancient world of huge land armies marching toward each other to do battle, it made sense to that prophecy writer to think that huge plain was the most likely site for the last battle of good versus evil. With missiles, air forces, and even, most frighteningly destructive and deadly, nuclear weapons, that plain will not be the site of any final battle of any kind. While we all know nuclear weapons could indeed cause an end to the world as we know it—it still wouldn’t be a battle between good and evil as in that ancient prophecy—it would be a battle between bad and bad, as any nation deciding it’s existence is more important than not to use nuclear weapons is as bad as those they use them on, from any moral or ethical position I can consider worthy of the meaning of those words—because nuclear weapons are immoral and unethical by any definition that is true, authentic, and real. While the result would certainly be demonic, it would not be of the devil’s making, but of human! But there is a so much better way, and we all know it—and that way is the way of peace! I will illustrate how it can happen.

Three Cups of Tea tells the story of Greg Mortenson, the American who got lost on his descent of K-2, the second highest mountain in the world, and ended up in a high mountain village in Pakistan, where he was nursed back to good health by the people of that village. When he was ready to leave he told the village elder that he would build him a school, and he came home, raised the money, went back and did build that school. That was in 1993. Through the Central Asia Institute he founded he has now built, with the local people in each village, 155 schools in Pakistan and Afghanistan, and every one of them teaches girls, and not one of them has ever been attacked by the Taliban, or any other radical or fundamentalist Muslim group. I heard him speak last Monday night at TCU. One of the last schools he built was in a very isolated part of Afghanistan that is inhabited by fierce mujahadeen fighters. It is so isolated and fierce that few westerners have ever been there, and he wasn’t even sure he should go there when invited by the village, and he said it was a place he would not have advised anyone else to visit. After the visit he invited them to visit one of the schools he had built so that they could see with what they were getting involved. The men came heavily armed with their AK-47 Kalashnikov rifles and bullet bandoliers across their chests. When they saw the playground of the school they dropped their weapons and got into the swings and started to swing (he showed us the pictures). They proceeded to swing for over an hour. One of the men later told Greg that they had always been warriors, always fighting somebody—the Russians, then the Taliban, so that they had never been allowed to be children, and when they saw that swing set they were finally free to be children for awhile. They told him they wanted him to build their village a school and that it had to have a playground like the one they had just used. Greg said he hoped the children got to use the swings as well. Greg Mortenson has shined the light of truth, understanding, knowledge, and compassion into dark places and had more good effect and created more good will for Americans than all the thousands of bombs and millions of bullets we have used there ever could. His book is now required reading by all the commanding officers and Special Forces sent to Afghanistan. He became like a child wanting to go to school and built schools for children, so that even hardened warriors could become like children!

I told this story in a sermon and a woman said to me afterward, “Why can’t we learn that lesson that schools are better than bombs, and apply it?” I said, “Well, we are, at least somewhat. Mortenson told us another story.” The US military, under the leadership of General McChrystal, was planning a major offensive in a wide swath of Afghanistan, to drive out as many of the Taliban as they possibly could. When he was removed due to his insubordination, General Petraeus took command and was going to proceed with the operation since it was already planned and ready to be implemented, but first he asked Mortenson to set up a meeting with tribal and village elders. After that meeting, where those elders asked the general not to kill civilians, Petraeus cancelled the entire operation. He knew it would not be what would be best in the long term for the people of Afghanistan, nor for US soldiers and the mission in Afghanistan. The builder of schools had such connection to the people there that they trusted him enough that they went to that meeting, and because of that trust, a US general realized that listening to people, respecting them, and building schools, as Mortenson has done, could be a better option than mere military might!

There is now a song, “Three Cups of Tea”, with words and music by Jake Fleming, though all the words convey the truth of Greg Mortenson’s words and experiences.

A-ssa-la-m A-lai-ku-m A-ssa-la-m A-lai-ku-m [the traditional Muslim greeting that means

A-ssa-la-m A-lai-ku-m A-ssa-la-m A-lai-ku-m “Peace be with you.”]

I see a hero. A child of the times.

A girl who lives with joy. Who’s not afraid to speak her mind

and thinks the world is divine.

I see a young boy etching letters in the sand.

In this land of ancient scars a promise still remains;

When darkness comes you can see the stars.

Three cups of tea. First cup, you’re a stranger.

Three cups of tea. Second cup, a friend.

Three cups of tea. By the third you’re family.

How long to trust a stranger? How long to share three cups of tea?

A-ssa-la-m A-lai-ku-m A-ssa-la-m A-lai-ku-m

A light burns bright across the ocean

A light shines warm before the sun.

I’ve got to find a way to build a bridge, join us to them, and be the change I wish to see.

If I give a penny for a pencil,

My hero writes a word.

Her words become great tools, his stories make wise the fools,

and I believe it’s just three cups of tea away.

Three cups of tea. First cup, you’re a stranger.

Three cups of tea. Second cup, a friend.

Three cups of tea. By the third, you’re family.

How long to trust a stranger? How long to share?

I will call you friend, sit with you

Here to build a bridge, share the dream in this circle of friends.

Three cups of tea. First cup, you’re a stranger.

Three cups of tea. Second cup, a friend.

Three cups of tea. By the third you’re family.

A-ssa-la-m A-lai-ku-m A-ssa-la-m A-lai-ku-m

Yes, “Peace be with you”, peace be with us all, indeed! For, yes, there is a tremendously better way than violence and military action—and we all know it! It is the way of peace that builds schools that builds a bridge between them and us. While I am sure that US officials are working feverishly to accomplish their best possible diplomatic solutions to the unrest in Egypt and Jordan, they also need to work just as feverishly on the ways that make for peace, for the good of all the people in that part of the world, and for the good of every part of the world that could be drawn into that conflict. It should have been our policy for decades, but it must be our policy now—for the good of us all! We need the kind of efforts and actions that allows hardened warriors to be children for awhile as they swing on playgrounds! May it indeed be accomplished again and again as Greg Mortenson has demonstrated convincingly it already has!

Love, grace, hope, joy, compassion, peace,

Rodney Noel Saunders January 30, 2011

Is the Dream Still Just a Dream?

2011-01-15T21:09:00.000-05:00

As we approach MLK Day, some unnerving statistics from the US Census Bureau, Human Rights Watch, Department of Health and Human Services, JAMA, and the Bureau of Justice Statistics, as cited in the latest issue of Sojourners magazine:

Less than 1% - Difference in rates of illicit drug use between African-Americans and white Americans.

13% - Percent of illicit drug users who are African-American.

35% - Percent of drug-related arrests that are of African-Americans

256.2 per 100,000 - Rate at which black adults are imprisoned for drug offenses

25.3 per 100,000 - Rate at which white adults are imprisoned for drug offenses.

Although the majority of illegal drug users and dealers are white, 75% of those imprisoned for drug offenses are black or Latino.

Is it truly a war on drugs that we're fighting? Seems like a mighty selective war...

Hyperbole Will Surely Be the Death of Us All !!!!!!

2011-01-11T13:27:00.002-05:00

What happened in Tucson is tragic. It seems pretty obvious that Jared Lee Loughner is really messed up. A kid expelled from his local community college for mental health reasons and concern for public safety should be in regular treatment, and should not be able to legally purchase a Glock. Private citizens cannot legally purchase the magazine he used which allowed him to rapidly fire so many rounds into the heads and bodies of folks just like you, me, our parents and kids. Whoever illegally sold the magazine to him should be tried as an accessory to murder and never be allowed within 1000 yards of a firearm again.

I get all that. I think just about every reasonable human being would agree with everything stated above.

As a slightly left-leaning down-the-middler, I also get the frustration and disgust with the current state of political discourse. I avoid Glen Beck, Fox News, Rush Limbaugh, Michael Savage, WHAM, and - for that matter - Keith Olberman and Ed Schultz. I find NPR to be much more level-headed in everything short of knee-jerk personnel decisions.

I don't like Sarah Palin as a candidate. I'm of the opinion that if she was physically unattractive she'd be back home in Wasila. Forever. She'd better quickly hit the books and gain some gravitas, because gravity is already beginning to address that which attracted the spotlight to her in the first place. (I can say that because I'm pushing 50, too.)

But here is where I find myself drawing the line: I can't find Sarah Palin, Glen Beck, Rush Limbaugh or partisan bluster remotely responsible for a sick kid who did a sick thing. I firmly believe the above listed politainers play fast and loose with facts when they bother with facts at all. I firmly believe they further poison the already brackish political waters (and, again, I'd throw Keith Olberman and his constant faux outrage into the same pot). I firmly believe they make it very difficult to reach out and reason with "the other side of the aisle," no matter which side you're on.

But I find my conservative acquaintances to be among the most upright and law-abiding citizens I know. Even if I can't talk politics with them, I know I can trust them personally. Some of them own legal fire arms. As far as I know, none of them has ever so much as pointed a steak knife at another human being. Conservative anger -- or even hubris -- is not a crime. And even if political vitriol might speak to some armed-to-the-teeth psychopath, ornate wallpaper patterns and the neighbor's dog do, too.

I very much want to end the political polarization of this nation. How can we do that when we take our own accusations to such polar extremes?

Joy

2010-12-13T12:26:00.000-05:00

I had a moment yesterday during worship.

Cheryl Walters and Earl Petit were singing a stunning version of "O Holy Night." I mean free-flowing-tears-among-the-congregation stunning. It was that beautiful. I was sitting up on the pulpit dias behind our singers, a perfect vantage point to watch the emotion swirl and roll through the pews.

Third Sunday of Advent means I was about to preach a sermon on joy. As I sat there looking out on the people with whom I've ministered and to whom I have preached for 14 years, I started calling up some of the sacred, private moments into which I have been welcomed:

my dear, lovely friend who has embraced her too-soon widowhood as a challenging, sometimes-solitary adventure, and whose homily when the grief was so fresh two Easters ago - on joy as something for which we must decide to reach and work - still sticks with me every day,
the widower facing his first Christmas without the physical presence of his remarkable, Spirit-filled wife
the beautiful, fun and friendly couple who are silently going together through a profound grief quite similar to one Teresa and I once experienced,
the man who went two years powerless and unemployed before suddenly finding potential employers beating down his door,
the great, great grandmother,
the sister who suffered mightily convincing her mother to leave the homestead she loves for a safer environment.

So many people. So many cycles of tragedy and triumph, all together in a moment of deep, profound beauty. A thrill of hope. A weary world rejoices.

"Merry Christmas" doesn't begin to cover it, does it? Joy is something so hard-won and all-encompassing. It warms us to the core through some of the coldest of human experiences. It doesn't whistle past graveyards or drown out sighs and tears with staged laughter. Joy is planted firmly in what is and who we are.

In that moment, I saw an entire congregation make the conscious decision to reach for joy. For some, I knew, it took heroic effort. God bless them.

Merriment distracts. Joy completes.

Please don't settle for a merry Christmas. Reach for joy.

me and radio

2010-11-04T10:14:00.000-04:00

Two memories:

FIRST: I'm a young kid of seven or eight. My sister and I are in the back seat and it is once again past our regular bedtime. Dad's driving. Mom's riding shotgun. The push-button car radio (AM only, thank you very much) provides hokie music, then news. The magic minute of 10:07 p.m. arrives, and the creaking door and croaking tone (of E.G. Marshall) usher in CBS Radio Mystery Theatre on WHAM. Mom is concerned it will scare the kids too much this late at night. She doesn't realize I listen to it almost every night in my room, under the covers, through the earphone on my little transistor radio. She's right, of course: That show, coupled with my vivid imagination, are far too scary for this time of night. Got to listen, though, because the dark bedroom to come with all its sinister shadows is half the fun.

SECOND: I'm a little older, maybe 11 or 12, and I alone am awake in the house at 3 a.m. I am rattled and anxious -- no doubt part of the teeth-grinding, mind-twisting crossing-of-days that was adolescence. I'm going out of my mind, staring at the ceiling, feeling every sting of yesterday's junior high social slings and arrows, and hearing every crack and groan of that old house. I reach under my bed, and there's that same old transistor radio, mostly thrown over for album sides and eight-tracks, but still faithful. I turn it on (the nine-volt is still juiced!) and find WSAY on the dial, just as the DJ drops the needle on Nights in White Satin (the full, poetry- and kettle-drum-soaked album version, of course...I mean, we're talking about WSA-freakin'-Y here). I breathe deep, comforted, close my eyes and drift away.

I have always loved radio. From those early days with it's constant, time-marking presence to today. When I was 17 it was WCMF and WMJQ hanging with me at the house before school; Mom and Dad being long gone to work, and me fighting off the morning lonelies. When I was 19 and suddenly came to myself in Fortran 77 class, rose and walked out on the day's lecture and my ill-chosen Computer Science major, it was the studios of Brockport State's student-run WBSU to which I turned.

Within two years, I was station manager. Within three years, I was out in the broadcasting world, Communication degree in hand, hosting a jazz show in the very-same studio where some DJ had once sat and played Nights in White Satin at 3 a.m. all those years ago (by then it was WXXI-AM, which has long-since moved from that odd house/studio on French Road that they had inherited from Gordon Brown's scattershot, eccentric experiment in freeform acid rock/Roman Catholic radio).

In the ensuing years I have DJ-ed and produced off an on, but mostly I have listened. I have listened and loved Garrison Keillor, Diane Rhem, Terri Gross, Click-and-Clack, Bob Smith, Bob Matthews and Bob Edwards. I have continued to root against the Yankees, but for the broadcast team of Suzyn Waldman (a brilliant baseball mind) and John Sterling ("th-uhhhhh pitch..."calling every single game without fail since 1989). I have listened and winced at the invective of many current talk-radio hosts, but have begrudgingly recognized the consummate skill with which they deliver it.

Radio. No other broadcast medium allows you to cast heroes and villains from your own imagination. No other broadcast medium can quite crawl inside you while you are busy doing other things. It still travels the open air, seeps in your ear and dances in your head with whatever it finds on your mind at the time. What are your memories of radio?

(And now a word from our sponsor: On Friday, December 3rd at 7 p.m., our church will be transformed into old-time radio studio WBCC for A Bloomfield Home Companion, complete with radio-theatre comedy and drama produced live before your eyes, our own house band burning up the music of Patsy Cline, Old Crow Medicine Show, Hank Williams, Bing Crosby, and Lucinda Williams, and special displays and archived broadcasts provided by the Antique Wireless Association Museum. Tickets are a mere eight bucks!)

Why I'm Wearing Purple Today

2010-10-20T10:34:00.000-04:00

...and not just me, but my whole family.

I am wearing purple today because I have come to realize that failure to stand up and proclaim what I believe is shameful for me, and potentially fatal to others.
I am wearing purple today because GLBT youth are far, far more likely to take their own life, inflicting great loss on a world that has seemingly rejected them.
I am wearing purple today because I have presided at funerals of suicide victims, and have seen firsthand the chaos and ongoing pain generated and passed on.
I am wearing purple today because I must not sit idly by as others fly the banner of Christianity over actions, outlooks and messages I find the antithesis of my Christ and his message.
I am wearing purple today because I want to show those who feel isolated and cast out that they are not alone at all.
I am wearing purple today because I want to show the vociferous, misguided few who spew anti-gay venom that they are very much alone, and to rebut their profoundly mistaken belief that bigotry, hate and ignorance are somehow Christian or Conservative or American values.
I am wearing purple today to shake up the "silent majority" of kids and adults who, if they themselves don't call something "gay" in derision, sit silently complicit when others do.

I'm not big on contrived public displays, but I hope every young person struggling with issues of identity and orientation sees a veritable SEA of purple acceptance and understanding today. A public display is the only way to make that happen.

My wise friend Kristin shared the other day her distaste for the word "tolerance."I agree. I don't care to be "tolerated." I want to be appreciated. Don't we all?

AMEN.

(Being) Meat is Murder

2010-09-14T08:45:00.000-04:00

Did you see this dress?

As a once and future vegetarian, I understand the whole meat-is-murder argument. In fact, given the recent factory farming crises in the beef, poultry and egg industries, I'd hope every sentient being would have an idea by now that, for omnivores, local and compassionate is the way to go for such things (eggs? try the free-range Jones farm on 5&20 in Bloomfield; Beef and chicken? Seven Bridges Farm on the Lima side of Factory Hollow is the BEST for us locals). But I don't want to talk about animal meat. I want to talk about human meat.

Lady Gaga's meat outfit at the MTV music awards was brilliant, I thought. I don't care for her music, but loved her absurd extreme.

In the exploitative, hyper-sexualized culture that MTV et al promote, every bit of push-em-up silicone, exposed lipo-ed thigh, and botulism-infected lip turns our screens into butcher shop windows, so why not call it out quite literally? We hang our celebutantes on meat hooks and send them around the airwaves. We leer, stuff wads of cash in their g-strings, then throw them to the flash-popping, flesh-catching wolves. We sit back and shake our heads in judgment when the drinking-drug-sextape-insertscandaldujourhere inevitably breaks, complete with breathless back story, online video and falling-out-of-the-limo-curbside 8x10s.

Lindsay, Britney and Paris are just a few in the ever-lengthening line making their way across the butcher block. Who will sate our appetite tomorrow? It seems to me Miley and Katy Perry are well on their way there. As some of our young ladies and gentlemen emulate these flavor-of-the-month attitudes and actions, all the more reason to embrace Lady Gaga's outfit as cautionary:

BEING MEAT IS MURDER.

2010-09-09T13:31:00.000-04:00

My undergrad degree is in broadcast communication.

I remember well my very first day of my very first broadcasting class, and the very first lesson from my very first communication professor. She shared the story of a small local newsroom in the southern US (if memory serves). A call came in one day from a man who planned to go to the town square, soak himself in gasoline and set himself on fire in protest (of what, I can't recall).

A reporter and videographer went to the scene at the appointed time, and there was the man with his gas can. As the cameras rolled, he set himself on fire. Horrible.

The question was called to all of us media-wannabe neophytes: Were the reporter and videographer culpable in the mentally unstable protester's death? Had he set himself on fire because they were there?

I watched video yesterday of a Gainesville newspaper reporter being kicked off the property of that stupid church where they're threatening to burn the Koran (yes, I know the name of the stupid church and its stupid pastor, but they've gained more than enough publicity already). The intent of the video was to show how unfairly the church was treating one reporter because his paper had published an unflattering story, but I was taken with how many satellite trucks and eager observers were present. That first lesson from class at Brockport State came to mind.

Remove 24-7 HD coverage from the picture and one less bloated, self-important jackass can send shock waves around the world. Remove 24-7 HD coverage from the picture and the terrorists lose most of their sting.

It is far past time for someone to report on the media's ever-expanding role in creating the news they then report.Depth and nuance are lost, but more and more air time is filled, nonetheless. Nothing attracts a crowd like a crowd. Lately when I turn on the news, I feel like a rubber-necker at a car wreck. PRURIENT is the word that comes to mind (marked by or arousing an immoderate or unwholesome interest or desire).

I have this fantasy that all of the reporters and satellite trucks will leave Gainesville before Saturday night, and that idiot pastor will find himself alone with the crickets when he steps out on the church lawn to build his shameful fire. (I have another fantasy that he'll start a grass fire that burns his church to the ground, but I try not to dwell on that one.)

There is no solution -- probably not even a cogent point -- to all of this. But all of those people who send in videos of family members getting whacked in the gonads, hoping to win $100,000? I think several of them are now news directors at cable news channels around the world.

The difference between that pastor and his namesake pictured above? One of them is perversely doing whatever it takes to gain attention. The other one is an excellent comedic actor.

Terry Jones as Brian's Mother

2010-09-09T12:14:00.000-04:00

THIS Terry Jones is the one we should be listening to...

Not Doing the Knee-Jerk

2010-08-18T07:02:00.002-04:00

Let's go for a walk...

That's exactly how far the proposed Cordoba House Islamic Center site is from Ground Zero.

*Imam Feisal Abdul Rauf is a practitioner of Sufism, and a vocal, long-standing critic of radical Islamic extremism.
*The area of Lower Manhattan where the World Trade Center would one day be built was developed in the 1880s by Ottoman Christians and Muslims and referred to as "Little Syria."
*Ground Zero is now a highly symbolic site: a cauterized national wound, if you will, that has been felt by the whole of America.

Deep breath.

Now then, can we discuss the issue intelligently?

Rich towards God

2010-07-28T10:32:00.000-04:00

Someone in the crowd said to him, "Teacher, tell my brother to divide the family inheritance with me."

But he said to him, "Friend, who set me to be a judge or arbitrator over you?"

And he said to them, "Take care! Be on your guard against all kinds of greed; for one's life does not consist in the abundance of possessions."

Then he told them a parable: "The land of a rich man produced abundantly. And he thought to himself, 'What should I do, for I have no place to store my crops?'

Then he said, 'I will do this: I will pull down my barns and build larger ones, and there I will store all my grain and my goods. And I will say to my soul, 'Soul, you have ample goods laid up for many years; relax, eat, drink, be merry.' But God said to him, 'You fool! This very night your life is being demanded of you. And the things you have prepared, whose will they be?'

So it is with those who store up treasures for themselves but are not rich toward God." Luke 12:13-21

The old line goes something like this: No matter how well you do in the Rat Race, in the end you're still a rat.

At last count I have ten guitars in my house. Ten guitars! That's five each for the two residents who play them.

I love music, and its creation is a means of prayer, praise, meditation, reflection and joy for me. Having access to guitars is good for me spiritually and psychologically. There's a Yamaha classical propped up within three feet of me right now, and it feels good just knowing it is there, brimming with wide open possibilities, a boat launch to broad creative currents.

Yes, a guitar is good for me. But ten?!? Definitely excessive. Methinks I have fallen into the "More Is Better" trap. Fueled to consume, consume and consume some more, we are propped up by our desires, and become easy targets for anyone with something to sell. I'm guilty as charged.

I have too much stuff, and just off the top of my head I can name five things for which I am in the market right now, none of which is a kidney dialysis machine or shoes for the children. My true needs are all met. It's my wants that have me strung out.

What I really crave can't be found at Stuff-Mart, Lowes or even Rossi Music. What I really crave is this thing Jesus called rich[ness] toward God. I want a wealth of treasured memories shared between the One and me. I want a currency of complete trust and understanding between us. I desire a house full of golden love and a bank vault of restorative Soul.

The thing is, such richness is already mine. I can't for the life of me figure out where or how I happened to set it down and let it out of my sight again. One moment I'm breathing deep the dew-soaked morning air, the next I'm sinking in swells of pounding, plastic frenzy.

You get caught up in it, too? I return time and time again to the motto/mantra/bumper wisdom: live simply, that others might simply live. Yeah, simple is best. But simple isn't easy.

I'm all lost in the supermarket
I can no longer shop happily
I came in here for the special offer
A guaranteed personality

I wasn't born so much as I fell out
Nobody seemed to notice me
We had a hedge back home in the suburbs
Over which I never could see

I heard the people who lived on the ceiling
Scream and fight most scarily
Hearing that noise was my first ever feeling
That's how it's been all around me

I'm all tuned in I see all the programmes
I save coupons from packets of tea
I've got my giant hits discotheque album
I empty a bottle I feel a bit free

Kids in the halls and the pipes in the walls
Making noises for company
Long distance callers make long distance calls
And the silence makes me lonely

It's not here, it disappeared.

-- Lost in the Supermarket (Strummer/Jones, from the Clash album London Calling, (c)1979 Sony Music)

Planting Grief

2010-06-20T23:19:00.000-04:00

Lost another friend. He was someone I've known my whole life, fairly well for the last several years. This is his 14-year-old dog, who is now lodging with us:

This will be her third night with us after spending more than three weeks alone in her house while her man was in the hospital in his last stages. A neighbor saw that she was fed and all, but she was obviously in shock when I showed up to take her away on Friday. She came right up to me... something she'd never done before. She willingly walked right out the door without looking back. She had always been a one man dog, and I think she must have figured out her man wasn't coming home. She now follows me around the house. She's at my feet right now as I write this. Hello, old girl.

Anyway, tonight she seemed to wake up from her daze. We found her sitting in the middle of our living room, just kind of looking around with a furrowed brow... sort of the doggie version of what the heck is this place and how did I get here? I know the feeling.

As a pastor, I dive into death a lot. It is almost always someone else's family, and it is my job to keep my head to guide survivors who lose theirs. I guess I am sort of like a grief fire-jumper.

But after nearly 14 years serving the church in which I was long ago born and raised, I am, often as not, a sort of second-ring survivor myself. In these cases, it is important for me to find some way to channel my churning into some sort of constructive, reflective activity. About five years ago I found it: I plant trees.

When a death hits close to home, soon after the memorial services have been completed, my family knows they can find me out on the property somewhere with shovel, pickaxe, wheel barrow and peat moss, preparing the ground for a new arrival. The clay soil makes for tough work, which makes it all the better for my heart, soul and mind.

I focus intently on digging a pit that will not be a grave, but a cradle of life. As I experience flashes of my own mortality, I enjoy starting something that will live and strive and grow far beyond me. A complaining back, dirt under finger nails and sweat soaked clothing demand that I acknowledge the gift of living that is still mine.

It is not selfish to love and relish one's life all the more for watching someone else lose theirs. It is a rather healthy response, and probably one of the very best ways to honor the dead.

Anyway, I'm thinking of breaking with my standard solitary practice for the next tree I plant. I'm thinking I might invite this old dog along. I'm pretty sure she won't insist on empty, distracting conversation. Since she is evidence of death invited into my home, I think I might need her to share in my conversion of an ending into a new beginning. I also like the thought of her having a moment in her own fading life to rest once again in the shade of her man's shadow.

How have you processed grief? I'd love to have you share.

Jennifer Knapp

2010-04-22T11:19:00.000-04:00

That's Jennifer Knapp. She was really big in Christian music between 1998 and 2003, when she just disappeared.

Here are the words to one of my favorite songs. She composed it. I've used it in worship:

HOLD ME NOW

From glass alabaster she poured out the depth of her soul
O foot of Christ would you wait if her harlotry's known?
Falls a tear to darken the dirt
Of humblest offerings to forgive the hurt
She is strong enough to stand in your love
I can hear her say....

I'm weak
I'm poor
I'm broken, Lord
But I'm your's
Hold me now, hold me now

"Let he without sin cast the first stone if you will
To say that my bride isn't worth half the blood that I've spilled
Point your finger and laugh if you choose
To say my beloved is borrowed and used
She is strong enough to stand in My love
I can hear her say...."

I'm weak
I'm poor
I'm broken, Lord
But I'm your's
Hold me now, hold me now

Jennifer resurfaced recently, complete with a new album (her first in many years) and the statement that she was living in a committed, same-sex relationship. She is now under attack by one segment of Christians. She is finding her music banned from Christian radio. She is attacked in reviews on iTunes and amazon.com.

I tried to come to her rescue on amazon, and am now referred to by some on a particular message board as a "Christian pastor," the quotation marks being necessary because I can't possibly be a Christian pastor and celebrate the art, gift and soul of this woman because of who she loves.

I gave up on it. I have also pre-ordered her new album on iTunes. The video clip above is a song from that album, due for release in early May.

The song "Hold Me Now" has frequently moved me and others in my congregation to tears. There are times when you hear an artist singing his/her work that you can immediately sense just how deeply they have lived what they are singing. I strongly recommend you go to iTunes and download the song "Hold Me Now" right now -- the live version is most emotive and moving.

I also strongly recommend you speak out for those who might otherwise be shouted down. God does beautiful things in our lives. What a shame that some would rather be blind, deaf and quite DUMB (in the more modern sense of the word) than even consider the fact that they can neither predict nor control who God will love and through whom the Spirit will work.

Corey Gives Up On Christianity?

2010-04-19T09:51:00.000-04:00

If you want to serve the age, betray it. -- Brendan Kennelly

I think maybe I can't call myself Christian anymore.

I'm sitting here in my church office as I write this. It is a wonderful place, this building and campus. It is full of promise and prayer, faith and challenge. It widens my horizons and takes me deep along paths I otherwise wouldn't think to follow.

My faith serves me well, and inspires me to serve the One and creation. It is Jesus, this church, its people, and my God as I experience God that compel me to break my simmering silence.

I am tired.

I am tired of new acquaintances assuming that, because I am a CHRISTIAN pastor, I must also be a fellow-denier of scientific process. No, I don't believe the earth was created in six days and is only 6000 years old. Yes, I do think evolutionary theory is sound. No, this doesn't make me any less a believer than you.
I am tired of reading that no CHRISTIAN can accept the "homosexual lifestyle." Yes, I do accept as Godly any loving, supportive, inspiring relationship between equal parties. No, I don't believe the government should step in and bar some people from sanctifying relationships in the faith communities that embrace and encourage them. Yes, I realize some Biblical texts are quite clear in forbidding tattoos, shellfish consumption, mixed-material garments and homosexuality. No, I don't read and respond to the Bible the same way you do.
I am tired of those lazy news commentators who accept CHRISTIAN as some sort behemoth voting block to be played like a harp by particular candidates for political office. I vote my convictions, not my church! We do not all move in lock-step.
I am tired of bejeweled, self-serving leaders of CHRISTIAN churches lording it over their flocks with perverse indifference to the Gospel message. Preservation of power, prestige, buildings and bank accounts must never take precedence over the faith and well-being of any child of God.
I am tired of the commentators and bloggers of the world who consider human CHRISTIAN stupidity to be some sort of proof of the non-existence of God. God is not a Christian. Jesus is not a Christian. Neither should be mocked because of the occasional clueless idiocy of believers.

CHRISTIAN wasn't a term used by Jesus and his followers. They were first "People of the Way." I am striving to be a Person of Jesus' Way. I'm thinking that following Jesus as closely as possible might mean I can no longer call myself CHRISTIAN.

What do you think?

I didn't expect change to come so slow, so agonizingly slow. I didn't realize that the biggest obstacle to political and social progress wasn't the Free Masons, or the Establishment, or the boot heel of whatever you consider "the Man" to be. It was something much more subtle... a combination of our own indifference and the Kafka-esque labyrinth of "no's" you encounter as people vanish down the corridors of bureaucracy. -- Bono

Jerusalem, Rome and Rochester

2010-03-27T08:55:00.003-04:00

The irony and contrasts are breathtaking.

This past Tuesday I was part of a conversation with Rev. Mary Ramerman and Father Jim Callan. They were the leaders of Corpus Christi Roman Catholic Church -- one of the most successful, Christ-led parishes in the Rochester diocese. The lame walked, the blind saw, widows and orphans were fed, prisoners were visited, the naked were clothed. Those "RCs" on their last lap in the search to find an altar where they could still worship in good faith flocked to this church by the thousands.

Conservative Catholics in the diocese began a relentless writing campaign to then-Cardinal Ratzinger. An individual in possession of a vagina was consecrating the host! A man wearing the collar was blessing the loving commitment of couples wanting to dedicate their lives to each other without the approval of the state of New York!

Cardinal Ratzinger came down on Bishop Clark, who broke the duo up and bounced them from the parish. If I remember correctly, Father Callan was sent to Elmira for a time in an attempt to bring him back into the good graces of the church. It didn't work out.

Father Callan and Rev. Ramerman now lead Spiritus Christi, a thriving, growing alternative Catholic community that must live outside the RC church and the Vatican.

How ironic and disgusting that this same Cardinal Ratzinger -- the darling of conservative Roman Catholicism, is the same man who hushed up and moved pedophile priests from parish to parish, where they could spread their evil destruction. The news came out this week that Ratzinger knew what he knew before he claimed to know it. Memos were sent to him detailing the reassignment of one particular priest only days after he had begun psychological treatment for pedophilia. Yes, he found many victims in his new assignment, too. The defense of Ratzinger on this new revelation is that it was considered a "routine" memo (apparently the reassignment of pedophile priests was routine under Cardinal Ratzinger), and it was quite possible that he never actually read it!

I'm disgusted with that sort of leadership.

And, with all due respect, I am disgusted with that man* who is now the pope.

Apparently, child molestation -- a crime that requires a code of silence -- is acceptable until one is publicly called out. A pedophile is suitable to consecrate the host; a woman is not. The victimization of young boys is understandable, the love of grown men is not.

All of this unfolds as I am preparing to lead my congregation in the commemoration of Jesus' creative act of peaceful public protest of the abuses and corruption of the Temple elite - the entry into Jerusalem.

Jesus knew full well that he was riding into the very jaws of death, but ride he did. He challenged the powers that be, held a mirror up to their ugly faces, called for compassionate correction and reform, and ended his week nailed to a cross. That's our job as Christians in regard to our own. We must first pull the beam from our own eye before working on the splinter in the eye of the unchurched.

With this in mind, I turned to the Facebook page of my very favorite Roman Catholic -- (scratch that, Rev. Rod corrected me, Wallis is not Roman Catholic): Jim Wallis. Jim is a Spirit-driven activist of the first order. Currently, he is attempting to get Glen Beck to enter into dialogue around Beck's comments that Social Justice Christians are essentially communists and nazis.

Wallis is endeavoring to get a million Christians to identify themselves with the Social Justice movement. Yesterday morning I left a link on his page to a New York Times article exposing the pope's defense on the molestation issue as extremely flimsy. In my attached note, I urged Jim to start his fight for social justice with the Pope and his victims, rather than Glen Beck. Not only have I not heard from Jim (understandable, as he is a very busy man, and I am one little subscriber and ally), but, as of this writing, it has been 26 hours since I posted my point on his wall and not one of his 4,994 friends has deemed it worthy of comment.

Not. One. Comment.

[expletive deleted]*

*Salty language deleted in deference to the wisdom of friends who suggested its use distracted from the central issue: the plight and injustice suffered by victims of clergy sexual abuse.

All in a Day's Work

2010-03-14T12:52:00.000-04:00

What gain have the workers from their toil? I have seen the business that God has given to everyone to be busy with. He has made everything suitable for its time; moreover, he has put a sense of past and future into their minds, yet they cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end. I know that there is nothing better for them than to be happy and enjoy themselves as long as they live; moreover, it is God’s gift that all should eat and drink and take pleasure in all their toil. – Ecclesiastes 3:1-14

If there is a mean old nasty brute named Satan, I’m pretty sure such an individual would find that, rather than encouraging us to do evil, it would be far more efficient and successful to merely convince us to do nothing. Entropy is easy to slide into and hard to overcome. If we believe the insidious lie “I am powerless,” great potential goes unrealized, and the world persists in not being as blessed a place as it might be.

But I think an even smoother Evil One would find a way to take all our joy out of work by making it obligatory. Just think if we turned all of the good we ever did into a price we have to pay to earn our way into paradise, soon, rather than the Kingdom, we’d be building resentments toward our God and the people God forces us to reach out and help.

But I think the smoothest One Who Opposes of all would jump on the cheap-grace/sloppy-agape bandwagon and try to lead us to believe that social and economic justice efforts were unnecessary, even undesirable traits of an immature faith. “We’ve received this gift through pure grace,” the thinking goes. “To fight for the cause of the destitute orphan and the hopeless widow is somehow less than faithful.”

The problem in all of this is simple: We mess up when we place God off somewhere away from us, up on some cloud swatting at those persistent little cherubs buzzing around his head, peering down from afar to see if we pass the test and will be allowed into the celestial party.

Jesus told us so many times that the “Kingdom of God” was a party about to get started right nearby, among us. He was all about doing the right thing because we like it, accepting and forgiving others because we love them, and seeing God’s work in every scrap of society and creation. Why else would Jesus, when asked about paradise, tell stories about sheep and wheat and housewives and flowers?

“Wherever two or more are gather in my name…” is a promise of presence among us. What if, instead of seeing our day’s work as buying a ticket to visit some far off deity once we’ve bit the big one, we recognized God moving through our hands and tongues. What if we saw ourselves as extensions of a very present God, reaching out to other extensions of that same God? What if God lives and loves in the open space between and within us?

In the story of the rich young man, this eager kid has implicitly followed all the ten commandments all his life, but is dying to find what else he must do to buy himself eternal life. Jesus recognizes the flawed thinking: that God’s love must be earned, achieved and owned through our own power and skill. He therefore tells the young man to remove the one obstacle between him and fully recognizing that God is already swimming all around him. “Your wealth seems to be blocking your view. Get rid of it and come with me.”

And the man turns and leaves, unwilling to surrender who he has become to become who he most wants to be. I see no evidence that Jesus told every rich man to give it all away. He is not fighting wealth, but a spiritual myopia that makes us blind to God and godliness all around us.

God can be in every breakroom conversation. Angels can sing through every chance meeting and simple gesture. If you want holy bliss, it is all in a day’s work.

It's Academic -- And a Matter of Life and Death

2010-03-02T10:32:00.001-05:00

It happens over and over again.

Fairly often I cross paths with some shell-shocked Christian spouse (almost always a wife) who is running for her life without leaving her house. She’s continually torn to shreds emotionally, sleeps with her eyes open if at all, can’t bear the sound of the car in the driveway, and now the beatings have begun. She is bruised strategically in places that won’t show. She is wracked with shame, pain, fear and confusion…and she can’t leave because Jesus, the Bible and her pastor tell her God will be angry with her and hold it against her if she abandons her marriage.

Mark 10 is almost always quoted…Matthew and Luke as well. And misguided fools convolute Paul’s concept of being a prisoner for the Gospel into the Gospel is a prison.

It is at times like these that I thank God for my academic training. Dr. Hermann Gunkel and Sitz im Leben save lives. Dr. Gunkel, the son of a Lutheran pastor, really got the ball rolling with some of his colleagues when he insisted on digging for history in and around Biblical texts, and developed the concept of form criticism as well. He was instrumental in our looking at where a text “sits in life.” What were the day-to-day realities of the writer and speaker? What social, political and theological realities of the day are shaping and spurring the incidents and actions described and how they are described? How do they compare to our social, political and theological realities?

It is all marvelously academic, but the practical application of his work is such that I can confidently, faithfully tell abused and abuser alike that Jesus railed against divorce to all these heartless men questioning him because in those days women had no rights at all, and their husbands were their only protection from poverty, depravity and an ugly death. Jesus, in so firm an answer, was doing his best to intervene to save women from abuse! That being the case, why would Jesus suddenly support injustice and fight against peace 2000 years later? Whatever happened to “the same yesterday, today and forever?!?”

Ah, the same yesterday, today and forever, to some means attempting to lock us into primitive societal standards of thousands of years ago, as if those standards are somehow Godly because they happened to be prevalent in the time of Christ. Some of those standards killed Christ and caused much of the great suffering he had worked to alleviate. It is perverse to suggest preserving those standards somehow serves him.

Trust me. I don’t go all academic on people in crisis. I go all academic in my own studies that I might be prepared to do Jesus’ bidding in the face of the same sort of stupid, persistent crap that passed for authoritative teaching in his day. Jesus is about human evolution, not man-made institutions. All the evidence of this fact is laid out for us right there in the big book, for those who have eyes to see and minds to think.

And for those who insist on a supposed “literal” interpretation of scripture that flies in the face of compassion and justice in a world so far advanced from that of Jesus’ day: In striving to be fools for Christ, there is always the danger of falling a bit short and succeeding only in being fools.

2010-02-25T14:10:00.003-05:00

Bird of Pray

‘Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them…

… ‘And whenever you pray, do not be like the hypocrites; for they love to stand and pray in the synagogues and at the street corners, so that they may be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward…

-- Jesus on prayer, Matthew 6

In my private prayers these days, often as not, there are no words involved, but an awareness of vibration in me and in the room, on the plain, under the stars…wherever it is I find myself opening to the One. It is good.

In my private prayers of other days, and quite possibly those of days to come, it was more of a conversation with God. I’d listen. I’d speak my mind. I’d listen again. It is good.

This Sunday I am preaching on prayer. This is a unique challenge in a congregation as varied as mine. There will be some listening who barely pray at all, and others who have full, rich prayer lives beyond anything I can imagine. Some no doubt prattle to God like they’re sitting on Santa’s knee, some confide over coffee at the kitchen table, others will be mindful of chakras and life energy. And there will be many others at myriad points on that circle. It is good.

I will try to impress upon all gathered that effective prayer changes things. Of course, it changes us, and how we relate in God to the world around us. It also changes that world.

Jesus warns us not to turn prayer into a public spectacle in which we crave outward approval more than inner communication with God. At the same time, as a pastor, I am often called to public prayer. How do I reconcile these potentially divergent realities?

Poet Andrea Gibson, in her piece Say Yes, sites a phenomenon: When there are two fine violins in a room, and one is strummed or bowed, the second will hum in sympathetic vibration.

Yesterday I prayed at the hospital bed of a dear friend who has suffered a stroke. Her daughter, husband, a close friend and I gathered around her. She was worn out from a day of re-learning how to talk and use her right arm and leg. She is all there, but is locked in a great struggle to find words and shape them. We all closed our eyes and I simply acknowledged God and shared love there among us. I prayed for courage, strength and continued progress. I prayed in gratitude for the miracle of medical science. Then, after a moment's silence, I started up the Lord’s Prayer, which she has known since childhood. I opened my eyes to watch her and saw that the other three did the same. Only my slowly recovering friend kept her eyes firmly shut, and sure enough, her lips were moving along with us.

Now, for all I know, she may have been saying “Our flounder who’s sparks with Kevin,” but the cadence was there, the vibration was sympathetic in all of us. The words themselves ceased to matter. We all felt the presence and the lift, and it was good.

That is what I like public prayer to be: intimate for five or 500. I like it to resonate not with my words, but with Presence and Love and any other name we have for God.

For a bird to fly, the air above its wing must move on more quickly than the air beneath. In doing so, the air thins out so there is less of it. For prayer to work, there must be more raising us up than there is holding us down.

When I tell you now that I want to be a bird of pray, this is what I mean.

Go Away, Little God

2010-02-07T08:15:00.003-05:00

Isaiah 6:1-8 In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord sitting on a throne, high and lofty; and the hem of his robe filled the temple. Seraphs were in attendance above him; each had six wings: with two they covered their faces, and with two they covered their feet, and with two they flew.
And one called to another and said: "Holy, holy, holy is the LORD of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory."
The pivots on the thresholds shook at the voices of those who called, and the house filled with smoke.
And I said: "Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts!"
Then one of the seraphs flew to me, holding a live coal that had been taken from the altar with a pair of tongs. The seraph touched my mouth with it and said: "Now that this has touched your lips, your guilt has departed and your sin is blotted out."
Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, "Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?" And I said, "Here am I; send me!"

Luke 5:1-11 Once while Jesus was standing beside the lake of Gennesaret, and the crowd was pressing in on him to hear the word of God, he saw two boats there at the shore of the lake; the fishermen had gone out of them and were washing their nets.
He got into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, and asked him to put out a little way from the shore. Then he sat down and taught the crowds from the boat.
When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, "Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch."
Simon answered, "Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets."
When they had done this, they caught so many fish that their nets were beginning to break.
So they signaled their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both boats, so that they began to sink.
But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus' knees, saying, "Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!"
For he and all who were with him were amazed at the catch of fish that they had taken; and so also were James and John, sons of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon. Then Jesus said to Simon, "Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people."
When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him.

In the year that Judah's earthly king dies, Isaiah is called from his ordinary life to that of a prophet, and the semi-hallucinatory experience is fraught with bold, subversive sentiment:
1.The immortal Lord is seen on a kingly throne at a time when the Judean monarchy has once again shown its frail, mortal nature.

2.Solomon's temple, in all its massive glory, can barely fit the hem of God's robe. Even this giant religious wonder of the world will not contain God.

3.God's attending angels take a hot coal from the altar and fly past high priest, attending clergy and ranking officials to recruit some punk kid as prophet.

We religious folks often fall into the mindset that our churches are something like God-dispensers. The intended effect of all this glorious architecture at such massive scale is to somehow communicate loft of concept and enormity of God. But instead, we often see it as a pinpoint location for holiness: a holy post-and-tether to keep God properly in the yard, and not digging in the neighbor's garden or wandering off into town.

Isaiah's message is not simply that the Temple is too small to hold God, but that it is also too small to hold God's will and wisdom. Those impossible seraphs flit past all those priests and politicians for a reason: God will do what God will do, and choose whom God will choose. So not only might it be better to worship under the stars of the night sky, at some precipice of the Grand Canyon, or at land's end facing out into the ocean if we want to experience the enormity of God. We also might better fall to our knees at the maternity ward or morgue with our prayers of intercession. We might better lift our voices in hymns of praise at the soup kitchen or on the shop floor. We might better offer our sacrifices to strangers on cold sidewalks and in hushed late-night conversations, staring at the bedroom ceiling with those most intimate.

So I say “Go away, little God.” I yearn beyond a God that demands only a 7th of my mornings. I hear beyond the voices of Reverend and Doctor. I see the horizon beyond the steeple, and the possibilities beyond even our most rarefied, incense-saturated air. A cathedral god seems too fixed and petty for me. I like a good show, but I prefer a good impulse. I enjoy ancient ritual, but thrive on a profoundly present Is.

Doesn't it all come down to what we learned in Mrs. Lewis' 2nd grade Sunday School class? God is everywhere – truly a revolutionary concept! God is not merely huge. God is ever-present and implicit. God is right at the tip of our tongues and at the core of our better natures; in both our grandest gesture and our smallest kindness. We are not simply of use to God, we can be most-favored conduits of holiness.

Jesus proves the point as he recruits his disciples. His prophetic ministry visited temple and synagogue, yes, but was most definitely of the streets. His was a holiness that played across children's faces and swam in widow's tears. Shouts of acclamation and songs of praise sprang best from leprous lips and hungry mouths.

The typical pictures of Jesus with his Pepsodent smile, anglo-saxon nose, and Tide-sanitized, blindingly white robes does us a grave disservice. Ours is a messiah who was no doubt caked in the dust of the road and the filth of his followers. Ours is a face-to-face Christ. Ours is a face-to-face faith.

And isn't that the core of the prophetic message? The Holy One is not limited to large buildings and the big picture, but is liquid and rampant, ready, willing and able to flow through all we say and do with each other, if only we would allow the flood gates to open and the blessings to pour out. If only we had the gall and the guts amid so much glory and grandeur to simply say: “here am I, send me!”

Are You a Faith Wallflower?

2010-01-30T08:59:00.001-05:00

The readings and, essentially, my sermon for this Sunday...

Psalm 71:1-6:

1 In you, O LORD, I take refuge; let me never be put to shame.
2 In your righteousness deliver me and rescue me; incline your ear to me and save me.
3 Be to me a rock of refuge, a strong fortress, to save me, for you are my rock and my fortress.
4 Rescue me, O my God, from the hand of the wicked, from the grasp of the unjust and cruel.
5 For you, O Lord, are my hope, my trust, O LORD, from my youth.
6 Upon you I have leaned from my birth; it was you who took me from my mother's womb. My praise is continually of you.

Jeremiah 1:1-10:

1 The words of Jeremiah son of Hilkiah, of the priests who were in Anathoth in the land of Benjamin,
2 to whom the word of the LORD came in the days of King Josiah son of Amon of Judah, in the thirteenth year of his reign.
3 It came also in the days of King Jehoiakim son of Josiah of Judah, and until the end of the eleventh year of King Zedekiah son of Josiah of Judah, until the captivity of Jerusalem in the fifth month.
4 Now the word of the LORD came to me saying,
5 "Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations."
6 Then I said, "Ah, Lord GOD! Truly I do not know how to speak, for I am only a boy."
7 But the LORD said to me, "Do not say, 'I am only a boy'; for you shall go to all to whom I send you, and you shall speak whatever I command you.
8 Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you to deliver you, says the LORD."
9 Then the LORD put out his hand and touched my mouth; and the LORD said to me, "Now I have put my words in your mouth.
10 See, today I appoint you over nations and over kingdoms, to pluck up and to pull down, to destroy and to overthrow, to build and to plant."

It was in the early days of my marriage, and the memory is foggy and partially obscured. Teresa and I were auxillary, even tangental guests at some rather staid gathering. As I recall, the whole experience was something of a non-sequiter, as the event was rather stuffed-shirt, but the venue was anything but.

We were in our Sunday best in the mid-afternoon at some sort of warehouse/nightclub/party house in downtown Columbia, South Carolina. There were about twenty of us, as I recall, and my wife and I – in our mid-20s, God bless us – were the youngest adults in the room by a good decade or six. I remember wide-plank flooring, industrial skylights mixed oddly with fine linen tablecloths and fluted glasses.

There was a DJ at this event, and he was doing his best to lift the mood all by himself. The dance floor was a wasteland. I remember our nameless hostess bemoaning that fact under her breath to us as she made her obligatory rounds of a disappointingly subdued party.

Then the DJ, in some pathetic final act of quiet desperation, threw on a tune by the Grateful Dead. It might have been one of their rollicking, 48-hour live versions of the Buddy Holly classic “Not Fade Away.” Teresa and I took matters into our own feet. We got up, moved out onto the empty floor, and we danced. But we didn't just dance, we DEAD DANCED!

Deadheads have their own movement vocabulary. They neither get down nor tighten up. They whirl and twirl and twist and hop and tip, limbs akimbo. That's what we did in that cold, dank room. The DJ was so delighted that he followed up with four or five more Dead tunes, and we happily obliged by staying out there...WAY out there... on the dance floor.

That was all. There was a temporary stir. The party eventually evaporated. We thanked our hosts and drove home. I remember Teresa later telling me that the hostest had said to her: “all the other guests were asking me 'who's that guy out on the dance floor?'” My wife, being the sensitive type, kindly left out the second half of her statement, which was probably something like: “and does he need medical attention?”

I am not a dancer. I do not draw attention to my body and its rather awkward movements. But I am willing to do even the occasional insane thing to see a dear friend smile.

This is why the call of Jeremiah really resonates with me. Jeremiah is just this guy, you know. He's a preacher's kid just minding his own business, quietly growing up and getting on with life when God taps him for Holy Propheteering. Jeremiah looks down at his feet and says to God, essentially, “Sorry, I'm just a kid and I can't dance.”

And God answers him, essentially, “I'm the one who gave you feet. Now go out there and make me smile.”

You may have gotten an inkling by now that I am not your typical evangelist. I am a deep believer in God and in the path that Jesus has enlightened. But in my faith, I like to whirl and twirl and twist and hop and tip, limbs akimbo, when so many around me insist on moving in lock step with the line dance du jour... or worse still, frown on anyone even rising at all from their assigned seats at the table.

I need to tell you that I am a very faithful man who loves his call and his work. When I don't speak up or fail to observe proper decorum, it is not that I am “ashamed of the Gospel,” (Romans 1:16). It is that I am ashamed of what some of my fellow Christians sometimes say and and do and insist upon, or FAIL to say and do and insist upon in His name. If I'm not dancing, it is because I am temporarily ashamed of THE BODY. Know what I'm saying? But I get over it.

Here's the thing: I love God. And God knows if the tune is called, I'll be out there doing something different – our thing on the feet he gave me – just to see that smile and share it with any of the other guests who might find God in it. I've gotten more than my share of offended glares, judgemental stares and all. I've lost friends and fellow Christians over some of our steps. But I know that God is with me, too. And I've got to think there are other wallflowers out there just waiting for someone to start a dance that will resonate with them.

When was the last time you danced out loud a truth God has given you and, apparently, nobody else in the room? Tell us about it!

Do you continue to make your way out to the dance floor when your faith calls the tune, even if others discourage you and cast judgement? Please share!

What does it take for you to get up and dance to the tune God is spinning for you?

Think About These Things - An Advent Sermon on Peace

2009-12-07T11:45:00.001-05:00

Finally, Beloved: Whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. -- Philippians 4:8

This is a portion of what I preached yesterday, so I'm throwing it out there for the rest of you. (You can soon hear the full sermon here: http://www.wbccucc.blogspot.com/)

This is the Week of Peace in our preparations for Christmas, and I must admit that I approach it saddened and disappointed. I'm having a really tough time with our president's decision to commit 30-40,000 more troops to Afghanistan -- a country with a hopelessly corrupt, unpopular government, and complicated tribal splits and alliances. I recognize the danger of a particular breed of radical extremist Islam spreading to Pakistan -- a country in possession of nuclear weapons -- but my heart is heavy as I think of all those young men and women on their way to mayhem, blood and destruction.

Paul, in a similar time of military occupation, unrest and chaos, had simple advice for his fledgling faith community in Philippi: gravitate toward the good and just. Think about these things. This was the scheduled reading for next Sunday, but it also came to mind for me on the morning after President Obama's speech, when I tuned into an NPR call-in program to hear Robert Segal express slight chagrin that the first "expert" to phone in about the situation in Afghanistan and Pakistan was not a general, diplomat or foreign service worker, but none other than Deepak Chopra. Chopra cut him short and stated (and I am paraphrasing here):

"It makes perfect sense that I am talking to you. Consider India, and the state it was in several decades ago. We were not far different than Afghanistan and Pakistan, with warring factions and extreme tribal conflicts, but money was poured into education, and look where we are today: a stable, strong world leader... a successful nation. The same needs to happen in Pakistan and Afghanistan. Invest in educating the population, give them hope and the tools to better their minds and their lives and nihilistic extremism will evaporate."

It reminds me of one recent military effort in Iraq, where soldiers solicited American high schools to donate used soccer balls to fight the insurgency. My alma mater, Bloomfield High School, was one that sent soccer balls to Iraq, to be handed out by American forces to kids who desperately needed to do what kids everywhere most need to do: play together.

Playground diplomacy focuses on our humanity, on so much about us that is true, honorable, just, pure and pleasing. Let's think about these things.

Consider these two men, Edward Said and Daniel Borenboim. Said was a Columbia University English professor. Borenboim is a world-renowned conductor. The two met a decade ago and found that their seemingly conflicting cultures (Arab and Israeli) found common ground when discussing the youth trapped and wasted by the endless Palestinian-Israeli conflict. They germinated an idea: an orchestral camp featuring the finest professional musicians teaching Arab and Israeli youth, who would then perform together as the West-Eastern Divan Orchestra. The program grew, and a few years back, when they finally scheduled a performance in Ramallah, Palestine despite the deep safety and security concerns, the appearance of so many Arab and Israeli youth appearing on stage to make beautiful music together resulted in a ten minute standing ovation before the first note was even played! One small increment. True, honorable, just, pure, pleasing, commendable and excellent.

Or how about this man: Professor Joshua Silver, a physicist who had been working with spectroscopic analysis of highly charged ions at Oxford University. Professor Silver invented a way to manipulate the curvature of lenses as part of his work. Then he got to thinking: 60% of the population in the developed world require corrective lenses to see clearly. It would stand to reason that about the same ratio would exist in the developing world. There is an optometrist for every 10,000 people in London, but that ratio is an impossible 1 for every 8,000,000 in sub-Saharan Africa -- meaning that daily living, education, socialization and development are terribly limited in such areas by a seemingly intractable vision problem (figurative and literal).So Professor Silver develops a new set of Adaptive Spectacles. An individual pumps clear silicon oil into a set of lenses, curving them until refraction matches their individual corrective need. Voila! Vision corrected without the need to fly a cadre of optometrists into the African bush. 50,000 pairs of these inexpensive glasses have been fitted thus far.

Now people in the developing world have access to better vision, and a better future. One small increment. True, honorable, just, pure, pleasing, commendable, excellent and worthy of praise.

Peace doesn't come at the end of a gun or adjacent to an Improvised Explosive Device. It comes after the dust settles and some soldier tosses a kid a Hershey Bar and a soccer ball. It comes when mortal enemies turn their focus to making immortal music. It comes when a tribal elder can look clearly into the eyes of rival chieftains and beloved grandchildren, thanks to some obscure scientist two continents away. Think about these things.

Consider African merry-go-rounds for children that double as pumps to draw water from deep wells. Think about cardboard solar ovens that allow Sudanese women to remain in the safety of their encampments rather than having to seek firewood to cook family meals. Two more small increments.

We cease to behave humanly when we engage in combat. War is always the result of profound error, and it betrays the limits of our courage and creativity as a species. War is a bulldozed path toward an arbitrary goal. Peace is a meandering walk, winding its way around an issue to find root conflicts to resolve, common strengths to build on, possiblities to explore. War insists on MIGHT while peace plays with might.

At some point in every war, the leaders from each side come together and cobble some manner of peace over tea and biscuits. The worst offenders are isolated and made to answer for their crimes. Amends are made to those damaged "collaterally." Alliances are celebrated. Cities and civilizations are rebuilt, and fields are replanted. Leaders praise their dead and promise that this is the last time, lest their precious spilled blood be defiled.

Could it be that we are inviting the wrong people to lead us to the table? Or maybe it is a simple scheduling error: isolating offenders, making amends, celebrating alliances and rebuilding civilizations at the end of the process when these best human tendencies should be scheduled for the very start. Shouldn't we all think about these things?

So That's the Thanks I Give

2009-11-23T16:19:00.000-05:00

I live in a world of self-entitlement. I expect to receive anything I want at the flick of a switch, the swipe of a card. I like to eat bananas from Honduras, ride a bicycle from Japan, drink beer from Canada and fish with little fake minnows from Ireland. Nuclear fission and Niagara Falls light my reading lamp. My automobile engine runs on the blood of soldiers and harbor seals.

There's a whole lot of faceless people and far-flung materials supporting my lifestyle. There's no such thing as a self-made man.

And so it is that I come to you in this week which contains the day on which we are all supposed to stop, take stock and give thanks. I've decided to do so all this week, in hopes that, after seven straight days of extending the proper attitude of gratitude, perhaps it will become a daily habit I can carry throughout the coming year.

I have much to be grateful for:

God - slippery, elusive, wonderous mysterious joy that She is.
wife and kids - I am stunned at how much I haven't screwed them up. They're the best part of my really wonderful life.
family/friends/faith community - I am surrounded by an eclectic mix of characters who routinely amaze me with their grace, imagination and love.
freedom - I'm fortunate to live in a society of laws and latitude. I've grown up safe, been HANDED a great education, have found encouragement to speak up at almost every turn, and get to routinely stir the pot.
music - Oh, sweet nectar for the ears. And to not only have the privilege of listening, but to also be able to CREATE music of my own, by myself or with talented friends and family.
food - I really enjoy it.
green grass, blue sky, yellow sun - Seriously, what a breath-taking combination.
puppy jumps and arching-cat-shin-rubs - I'm usually the first human to come home in the evening, and I'm always greeted with love and enthusiasm.
a really great fort - Sure, I never had to hold a mortgage on the ones I built 40 years ago out of couch cushions, but the house Teresa and I have built feels every bit as cool.
my body - It is beginning to creak, bald and settle, but I can still do most of what I was doing 20 years ago.
my mind - Good things come in small packages, I guess.
good books - I just finished Steinbeck's "The Winter of Our Discontent." How cool is it that we can turn words into worlds?

How about you? What are you thankful for right now? Please, make a list to share with us...

What's in a Name?

2009-07-28T11:32:00.002-04:00

The Mayberry-esque exclamation "what in God's name..." is something beyond quaint for me these days. I've been thinking a lot about God/G-d/Yahweh/Elohim/Adonai/Jehovah/Allah/... What is in a name? More particularly, what is in "God's name?"

Names are given to distinguish an individual from others of its own kind. A thingy is a plant is a flower is a rose is a white rose is a... Names lend specificity, distinction.

But what about this God character we keep prattling on about? I am of the belief that there is one good, living, loving, intentional, creative reality that IS within, without and all around us. Our best impulses, thoughts and actions are seeped in this reality. Our "sins" are attempts at blocking, violating or turning away from its omnipresent flow. I believe Christ to be a brilliant manifestation of this reality in flesh. We, too, are called to be brilliant manifestations of this IS. That's my best current understanding of that which is far beyond my ability to communicate or even comprehend.

So how can we come to name it God? Do we really need to distinguish it from others of its own kind? What others?

No, the names we give to the reality -- the foundation and energy and impulse of all that is Shalom and beyond -- don't serve so much to distinguish the One from other gods. It serves to distinguish us from each other, making us peculiar. Separate. Rivals. Our various names for the good, living, loving, creative reality are so many team jerseys or - worse - military uniforms. How myopic. How misguided. How tragic. How mortally flawed.

For some who read this, it may seem I am breaking the rules of being a Christian pastor. The Christian pastor I am becoming is less and less about fences, more and more about open fields. I guess the pastor has been led out to wide pasture. Where are you flocking these days?

Parenting without Annette

2009-07-22T07:03:00.003-04:00

I used to write articles for City newspaper. I'm tossing a few back out there to spur discussion without actually writing something new...

Knowing the constant gives perspective. – Tao Te Ching

As a parent, I love the commercial media. Every nasty, morally bankrupt minute is a Godsend. Cable is even better.

My folks started a family with Donna Reed and Father Knows Best as their standard. Wally and the Beaver were good, wholesome kids, and mouse-eared Annette had that marvelous, innocent twinkle in her eye. Marsha was hot, but modest. Shucks, even Otis the town drunk never gave Sheriff Taylor any real trouble. The television intoned what family and community life must be. Who could possibly measure up to such cruelly high standards?

Today’s media culture is far less sanctimonious. Our heroes are thrown up and torn down at breakneck speed. Motivation is almost always questioned. “Reality” show idols eventually stick a knife in whatever back they’re scratching. Dads tend to be inept. Moms are often shrews. Kids are conniving little manipulators. Who could possibly fall beneath such crass, low standards?

With the help of HDTV, my children see clearly that perfection is myth. As the digital screens get flatter and thinner, the current generation can see behind what we cathode-ray-tubers considered rock-solid. Cynical? Perhaps. But our children are also becoming far harder marks for the hucksters to hit.

Corporate media’s gradual abandonment of broadcast standards means we set our own. Every time my kids and I dodge a mass-murder commercial we say brutality is to be avoided, not celebrated. Whenever we channel-surf past people half out of their minds and their underwear, we affirm sexuality as a gift, not a ploy. Appear in public without Gameboy pacifiers and we join a human race already in progress.

So God bless our corporate media conglomerate. Thanks to them, any fool can create life lessons simply by turning off and finding something better to do.

The Fear Monster

2009-07-22T06:51:00.003-04:00

A few years back I used to write articles for Rochester, NY's City newspaper. I thought I'd republish a few here and see what gronks...

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid. – John 14:27

When I was a child I marveled at the prospect of someday being big – courageous, strong and free of all fear, like Mom and Dad. The dark depths under the bed, the eerie silence behind the closet door, even the twisted shadows reaching through the window held no power over them. Life without fear held such promise!

At age 42, I’m still hoping to someday be bigger than my fears. Like most of us, I merely traded my childhood fears for mortgage monsters and well-being ghouls that sometimes overwhelm, robbing me of sleep far more aggressively than did any imagined threat of my youth. I haven’t learned my lesson: It is not a monster I fear; my fear IS the monster.

Fear is the opponent of peace. It constricts the flow of blood to our brains and narrows our thinking. It is the basis of all anger, crime and conflict.

Peace as the world gives – usually defined as the mere absence of war – is fearfully inadequate. Instead, let us with our children embrace a higher personal standard: peace as the absence of fear. Do not let your hearts be troubled. Do not let them be afraid, that wonderful man said. Examine and understand. Cast enlightenment on your darkest fears. It is what fear does to us in the darkest recesses of our hearts that leads to all that goes terribly wrong on this beautiful planet among these beautiful people.

Work through your nightmares and our world sleeps better tonight.

The Do-Nothing Parent

2009-07-22T06:43:00.002-04:00

I used to write short articles for Rochester, NY's City newspaper. Thought I'd revisit a few and see what discussion results...

The gods do not deduct from man's allotted span the hours spent in fishing. – Babylonian Proverb

I feel both gratified and somewhat guilty that you are taking the time to read these 300 words. It is my hope that you will gain nothing from them.

Your days are moving faster. This is no illusion. Your perception is accurate. Mathematically, a child experiences her second birthday as 0.13% of her life; her tenth, 0.027%; her thirtieth, 0.0091%. A sunny afternoon in the park does last longer for a five year-old than a twenty-five year-old because our days become ever-smaller portions of our lives. I believe this also explains why it takes so much more strength of will for children to wait for something eagerly anticipated or to endure something unpleasant or non-stimulating. Think of it from their perspective and understand.

When I was a child and summer was just shy of eternal, nothing was a perfectly wonderful thing to do. I had few obligations, and life came to me in giant blocks of time. As an adult, there are too many tasks to squeeze into the ever-shrinking hours. I’ll huff and I’ll puff and another day has blown by.

As I write this, there is a child in the next room waiting for me as patiently as he can. He wants to spend whatever time I will spare for him doing little or nothing in particular with me. He wants to feel my presence and know he’s loved. Sure, for me this will mean adding three more tasks to some other, already tightly packed hour. But for him it will mean so much more.

The less time we have to spare, the more critical our choice of how we spend it. What’s more important than your work? Nothing.

Ask the Pastor 2 - "Mo' Worthy Scripture?"

2009-05-26T13:56:00.003-04:00

My last Ask the Pastor question, as submitted on a recent Sunday morning for my particular take... and hopefully as a discussion starter:

"Are any books of the Bible considered more worthy or more important than others?"

Great question. Lots of possible answers. Here's what strikes me right out of the blocks.

YES. Throughout history some books of the Bible have been considered more worthy or more important than others. First, that's how we came to have our Christian Bible in the first place. Through use, discussion and discernment the ancient Jewish leaders winnowed down possible texts into what became something of a canon of Hebrew Scriptures. Also, several "Apocryphal/Deuterocanonical" books are included in some Christian Bibles, but not others (Tobit, Judith, additions to Esther, Wisdom of Solomon, Ecclesiasticus, Baruch, Letter of Jeremiah, additions to Daniel [Prayer of Azariah and the Song of the Three Jews, Susanna and Bel and the Dragon], 1st, 2nd, 3rd and 4th Maccabees, 1 and 2 Esdras, Prayer of Manasseh, and Psalm 151).

In the New Testament, there was a centuries-long fight over what to include. Revelation was highly disputed, as were some others. Some sects wanted to eliminate most or all of what we now call the Old Testament. Some wanted only one Gospel.

Martin Luther once called the book of Jude "an epistle of straw." Thomas Jefferson edited his own version of the Gospels to save the ethical teachings of Jesus from the "artificial vestments in which they have been muffled by priests, who have travestied them into various forms as instruments of riches and power for themselves."

This is simply to suggest that the Bible is a LIBRARY (Greek: Biblios) of books of multiple eras, outlooks and intentions. It is meant to be studied, prayed over, discussed, weighed and lived in.

When I first entered seminary, my main Bible was a New Internation Version pew Bible given to me by a Lutheran pastor. I highlighted verses that particularly resonated with me. When I picked it up years later I was astounded at some of my choices, as I missed entire pericopes that were suddenly vital to me. Go figure. At different times, different verses jump off the page for us.

Right now I am working on a book on Moses, so the Pentateuch (the first five books of the Bible, attributed to Moses) and especially Exodus are most important to me now. With that, I would mix in Isaiah (m' favorite Prophet), John's Gospel, Acts and Romans. Philippians and Jonah are regular stops for me, too. Ask me again next month, and I'll probably have a different list for you.

In short, I think every section of the library we call the Bible is worthy of extended, repeated visits. But, hey, Hosea and Revelation aren't really speaking to me at the moment. What's speaking to you right now? That's what's most important...

We Are Stardust

2009-05-11T12:56:00.005-04:00

An extension of the Mom's Day sermon, here is the cogent quote from the great Alan Watts that I mentioned yesterday.

Most of us have the sensation that "I myself" is a separate center of feeling and action, living inside and bounded by the physical body -- a center which "confronts" an "external" world of people and things, making contact through the senses with a universe both alien and strange. Everyday figures of speech reflect this illusion. "I came into this world." "You must FACE reality." "The conquest of nature."

This feeling of being lonely and very temporary visitors in the universe is in flat contradiction to everything known about man (and all other living organisms) in the sciences. We do not "come into" this world; we come OUT of it, as leaves from a tree. As the ocean "waves," so the universe "peoples." Every individual is an expression of the whole realm of nature, a unique action of the total universe. This fact is rarely, if ever, experienced by most individuals. Even those who know it to be true in theory do not sense or feel it, but continue to be aware of themselves as isolated "egos" inside bags of skin. -- Alan Watts, The Book On the Taboo Against Knowing Who You Are, (c) 1966.

We spend precious little time reflecting on the fact that we are built of stuff that was present at some Big Bang/Let-There-Be-Light moment millions of millenia ago. All that material substance is just passing through, and will one day be residing in blades of grass, garden dirt, rain drops and, perhaps, some other sentient beings. Parts of us will no doubt sail into space to land who knows where...

Right now at this "point" in "history," matter has manifested in your shape, size and sentience. The universe has temporarily brought forth YOU. How should you spend your l'il blip of existence?

(Hint: The least you could do is call your mother...)

Ask the Pastor, Part 1

2009-04-28T09:56:00.008-04:00

I have borrowed a concept from a colleague and friend. The West Bloomfield UCC congregation submits faith n' religion questions that I do my best to answer. We collected our first round of questions last Sunday. Here they are with my humble answers:

How do you define “Christian?”

This is a question millions upon millions through the centuries have struggled with, fought over and died from. Let's start at the foundation:

The word Christian contains the word Christ from the Greek Kristos, meaning “anointed one.” This is the Greek term for the Jewish “messiah.” The suffix -ian is derived from the latin iani, meaning “a partisan of,” like Caesariani means “partisan of Caesar.” So Christian means partisan of the Christ.

The word Christian only appears twice in the entire Bible, and both times rather negatively! Early believers instead used terms like saints, brothers, disciples, and followers of the way. So it is unlikely that the followers of Jesus originated the term Christian.

Likewise, it certainly wouldn't have been 1st Century Jews who originated the term, since the name CHRISTian assumes that Jesus is the Christ, which most Jews denied. Rather, it appears Roman officials in Antioch may have coined the term to distinguish the Jesus movement from Judaism, and they probably meant it as an insult. Within several decades, the followers of Christ would wear that insult as a badge of honor, beginning to identify themselves as Christian.

The long and bloody history of our faith focuses a great deal on the definition of Christian, and, most specifically, on who ISN'T one. So many litmus tests and arbitrary rules of faith have been negatively applied to the term that many modern people of faith shy away from the label completely! As for me, I think I'd return to the original term and define Christian rather widely as anyone who would follow the teachings of Jesus as a self-identified partisan of the Christ. Or more precisely: A Christian, to me, is one who recognizes in some form the messiah-ship of Jesus, and desires and consistently attempts to bring his/her own life into harmony with his teachings.

Jesus is only spoken of one time as a child around 12 years of age. Why not more?

It seems an unfathomable mystery that our Bibles are very nearly silent on the topic of Christ's childhood, and we would dearly love to know more about his first years! But, logically, it is perfectly understandable that we do not. Consider the following:

We know little or nothing about the childhood of any Biblical character, except when some element or experience of that childhood is central to some point being made. What was it like for Moses being raised by an Egyptian princess? We have no idea. How did David pass his time as a five year old? Not a clue. Was John the Baptist a wild child? Beats me. Did Paul get along well with his mom and dad? Can't tell you for sure. Sure, we know that Ishmael and Isaac suffered rivalry and travails as children, but those stories are central to historic assertions the Biblical author is stressing. More often than not, childhood experiences are not documented because they weren't seen as vital to the message.

Most of the first followers of Christ didn't deem his childhood important enough to write about. Why? Some historians say that infant mortality rates were so high in those days that emphasis was placed only on birth (for lineage) and then on “coming of age” around 12 years old (successful survival to one's pro-creative years), with not a lot of societal attention or energy devoted to what we would today consider the vital, formative years of early childhood. It's true. Two of our four Gospels don't even have accounts of Jesus' birth (Mark and John)! Paul, who authored our oldest New Testament scriptures, addresses only the adult ministries and teachings of Christ. What mattered to the first generations of Christians were Jesus' very adult messianic claims and his teachings.

Those who assembled what we now call the New Testament saw no value in preserving stories of Christ's childhood. There are other Gospels out there that didn't make the cut when Christian leaders were deciding what would go into our Bibles and what would not. Some of them have stories of Jesus' childhood. Most of them seem kind of wild and pretty goofy. We aren't missing much by their exclusion, it would seem. So, what we have instead are two stories of Christ's birth (in Matthew and Luke, to prove his Jewish pedigree and assert God's intention from the start), and his experience at Temple as a pubescent boy (showing him entering public life as – at the least – an already unique and profound religious thinker).

I don't believe in the virgin birth or the bodily resurrection of Jesus. Does this mean that I'm not really a Christian?

Can those who would call themselves Christians be skeptical of basic tenets of the faith? Good question. Let me first frame my answer by referring back to my personal definition of Christian above, as one who recognizes the messiah-ship of Jesus in some form and who thus desires and consistently attempts to bring his/her life and relationships into harmony with Christ's teachings.

There are prominent sects of Christianity that insist a belief in the Virgin Birth is necessary for all “true Christians.” It is, for example, an essential element of Roman Catholic doctrine. If you don't believe in the Virgin Birth, you probably shouldn't consider Roman Catholicism or any of the more conservative Protestant sects. There are other branches of Christianity in which this is not considered a make-or-break issue, as they believe Mary need not have been a virgin for God and she to bring forth the messiah. Controversial? Yes. Universally accepted? No.

Not believing in the resurrection of Jesus is stickier, as the Gospel writers insist that the physical resurrection happened, and is an important part of our core traditions. Jesus is real. He is there. The apostles touch him. He eats a piece of fish (Luke 24:41-43).

But you specified bodily resurrection, didn't you? Perhaps you're thinking about 1 Corinthians 15 in which Paul argues clearly that the resurrection one must believe in and embrace as a follower of Christ is a Spiritual Resurrection?

The Gospel writers take great pains to describe Christ's resurrection as both a physical and spiritual event. Paul, on the other hand, speaks of Jesus “appearing” to many, and seems to rally around resurrection as a spiritual phenomenon. If you doubt that Jesus returned with a beating heart, breathing lungs, churning digestive system and all the mundane processes, functions and practical requirements associated with a mortal body, I would suggest there is still room for you in the mystery of the Christian faith. After all, Christ does seem to be in a strange state when Mary Magdalene meets him (she doesn't recognize him until he calls her by name, and then he tells her not to hang onto him), he moves through locked doors and might suddenly disappear when recognized. Couldn't these details speak of something above and beyond a mere physical resurrection? Sure they could.

However, if you deny completely the return in any form after death of Christ and disbelieve his promise to his followers of a new life in some form beyond this world, I can see no good or compelling reason to consider yourself Christian.

Life and School Sport Culture...

2009-04-20T10:51:00.002-04:00

I read this article this morning and simply had to share it. What do you think of it? (c.k.)

Christian Science Monitor - Opinion

Columbine and the folly of overvaluing school sports
Ten years later, we are still confusing athletic success with the moral and intellectual kind.
By Jonathan Zimmerman
from the April 20, 2009 edition

New York - In December 1999, just eight months after 15 people died there, Columbine High School won its first state football championship. Americans love a happy ending, and this one was made for TV. National newscasts ran footage of the celebrations at Columbine, which followed a predictable media script: Athletic triumph tempers human tragedy.

And surely, Columbine High School needed any good news it could get. But the impulse to take comfort in sports reflected a larger problem, too: American high schools put far too large a premium on organized athletics.

As we pause to commemorate the 10th anniversary of the Columbine murders, we should also reflect on the sports-crazed culture that helped produce them.

Let's be clear: Nothing can excuse the raw malevolence of the two boys, who gunned down 12 students and a teacher before taking their own lives. And they didn't go looking for "jocks" to kill, as early media reports claimed. But they were bullied by athletes, who stood at the top of the Columbine social ladder.

Even worse, adults reinforced this hierarchy. At Columbine, as sociologist Ralph Larkin has confirmed, teachers and administrators looked the other way when athletes hit or harassed weaker students. When sports stars got arrested outside the school, meanwhile, Columbine bent the rules to make sure they could still take the field.

Most of all, the school awarded athletes a special place in its symbolic order. In foyer display cases, sports trophies and memorabilia spoke volumes about who really counted. The hallway leading to the gymnasium featured Columbine's Wall of Fame, celebrating – you guessed it – the school's outstanding athletes.

That doesn't make Columbine unique, of course. Indeed, other American communities lavish even more acclaim on their youthful sports heroes. At Permian High School in Odessa, Texas – made famous by the H.G. Bissinger book "Friday Night Lights" – school officials spent $70,000 for a chartered airplane to fly the football team to visiting games. Meanwhile, the school's textbooks were 15 years out of date – and nobody could come up with the money to replace them.

So let's use this anniversary to think about sports – not just violence – in American schools. Keep in mind that violent crime in our schools has declined – not increased – by nearly half over the past decade. And shootings are extremely rare. Over the past 20 years, about 10 students per year have been shot in school – roughly one per month during the academic year. That's one too many, of course, but it hardly qualifies as a crisis.

Our overemphasis on sports does. When we tie "school pride" to athletics, we give pride of place to student athletes. And we send exactly the wrong message to millions of children: The sports field is more important than the classroom.

Colleges exacerbate the problem, of course, by rewarding athletic prowess with scholarships and special advantages in admissions. That's because so much of their pride, too, is invested in fielding successful sports teams.

And that returns us to Columbine, which won the state football title again in 2002. Once more, the school celebrated its strength in the face of adversity.

"The team and the school and the community at large had every reason to quit, to give up, to descend into total despair, but we've come out of it to a great degree," Columbine's principal said at the time. "We showed amazing resolve and resilience, and maybe, in some way, we've given faith to others, who saw how we responded."

But sports victories don't signify strength, or resilience, or anything else; they simply mean that one team scored more points than another one did. Today, 10 years after Columbine, we are still confusing athletic success with the moral and intellectual kind.

We need some brave school leaders to stand up and state a few simple truths: Sports are not life, and life is not sports, and all of us need to relearn the difference. Any takers?

Jonathan Zimmerman teaches history and education at New York University. He is the author of "Small Wonder: The Little Red Schoolhouse in History and Memory," which will be published in June.

Not Dead Yet

2009-03-12T14:43:00.003-04:00

So yesterday, March 11, 2009, a 30-something man dove into the frigid, roiling waters of the Niagara River in an apparent suicide attempt and survived the 180-foot plunge. He even had enough left to try to fight off his would-be rescuers at the base of the falls. Yowsa.

On my church's Facebook page I put forth the following question: If you were the first person this man saw when he woke up in ICU, what would you say to him?

In terms of faith, life, God, death, sanity, insanity...what could it possibly mean when someone survives a self-removal attempt of such total, over-the-top lethality?!? It stretches the perceived boundaries of both physics and metaphysics!

Come on. I have my thoughts. But I want to hear yours first...

My Favorite Super Bowl ad

2009-02-02T10:18:00.000-05:00

In Praise of the Faith Community

2009-01-05T08:55:00.007-05:00

I love churches. Whenever I am traveling through a new town, my eye scans the horizon for steeples. Whenever a wedding, funeral or meeting calls me to some other church, I almost always arrive early enough to walk around and get a feel for the place, its people and mission. I pick up newsletters. I read bulletin boards and posted meeting minutes. I sit in sanctuaries and simply absorb the residual Spirit and atmosphere. The same holds true for the monasteries, synagogues, temples, mosques and shrines I have visited. I am drawn to these places where profound and profane meet... these formal touch points between Creator and creation. Something sacred has been lovingly built in these places. With each new day and each heartfelt prayer, more faith, more holiness is added.

Even now, as I sit in my office typing out this reflection, I can hear the cars and trucks zooming by on Routes 5 & 20, just 100 yards away. I wonder where people are going. I know some take comfort at the sight of our building. Perhaps some would stop in to explore and meditate if they only had time. Someday... Someday...

Practical concerns like weather and potential vandals require us to close and lock down at times. Still, in summer, I like to throw open the doors to the Spirit wind and wandering travelers. I've met a lot of interesting people this way, as the sight of our huge oak doors thrown open to the world tends to attract the curious, the troubled, the seeking and the holy. I remember one day when I found myself playing host to three very-excited-if-slightly-lost black lab puppies that suddenly burst into my office. They seemed to appreciate holiness, but, alas, their little puppy brains (hardwired to their little puppy bladders) could only handle so much loving acceptance.

I've also hosted itinerant evangelists, addicts, genealogy researchers, fresh starters, con artists, a few birds and one very persistent bat, all thanks to this open door policy.

I remember one day about ten years ago when these two women showed up. One appeared to be in her late 30s, the other was in her 50s, easy, and seemed to be having a difficult time with arthritis. They were hitching and camping their way from the Midwest to Vermont. A trucker had dropped them off in Avon at the end of his run. They'd walked as far as our doors when they ran out of steam. We gave them a hot shower and a warm meal on that early autumn evening. They seemed a bit leery of a pastor and his family, and didn't share much. Family in Vermont? Nope. Friends? Nope. Jobs? Nope. It dawned on me that these two were most likely traveling together to a location that had just legalized gay marriage. Not knowing where I stood on the issue, they probably chose not to share too much. They simply wanted to make it to Burlington unmolested and uncontested. I felt it best to respect their privacy and not force them to answer to my conjecture. It wasn't my business.

They had a tent and sleeping bags. The 50ish lady said she preferred sleeping outside, but I also saw her wince when she rose from her chair.

A local gentleman farmer granted permission for them to camp in the short grass up behind his pond, and, after dinner, I helped them lug their packs and set camp. It was about midnight that the thunder, lightning, wind and torrential rains hit. I drove and ran to their camp, where their tent had collapsed and they were drenched. They agreed to spend the rest of the night at the parsonage.

In the morning it became obvious that the older of the two ladies was unable to continue hitch-hiking and camping. She turned to her companion with tears in her eyes and said "I just can't do it." I jumped online, found a sister UCC church in Burlington (checking quietly to make sure it was Open and Affirming), called with advance word of these two sojourners, and then we bought them a couple of bus tickets to carry them the rest of the way in padded, heated comfort. At the bus station we asked them only to send word that they were safe and well, handed over a couple of box lunches, quickly, quietly prayed a blessing over them and sent them on their way.

We did receive a simple, brief thank you note, but no other word ever came.

Jesus once said that merely giving a cup of cold water to a child was a holy task. He also said:

"if anyone wants to sue you and take your coat, give your cloak as well; and if anyone forces you to go one mile, go also the second mile. Give to everyone who begs from you, and do not refuse anyone who wants to borrow from you.
"You have heard that it was said, 'You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven; for he makes his sun rise on
the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous. For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers and sisters, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect."

We'll never be perfect. Not even close, in my case. But it seems to me the most efficient way to eliminate an enemy is to love them into friendship. Who is the enemy of Christ, anyway? Someone who wants to pursue a quiet life of love and laughter? One who would insist on separation, castigation and discord? Any way you think on the issue, Jesus is crystal clear in his directives. Greet all. Love all. Help all on their way.

Yesterday our faith community, West Bloomfield Congregational Church UCC, voted overwhelmingly - UNANIMOUSLY - to throw open our doors to the wandering stranger.We are now officially an Open and Affirming church, though most would say we've always been so, we just hadn't made it formally known. This was not a vote to "love the sinner, hate the sin," but simply, firmly a vote to LOVE.

I pray that you are part of a faith community that does likewise, or are seeking the same. If you are a part of this faith community and have absented yourself because you disagree with the rest of us or the UCC on this or some other issue, I pray that you will return to love and be loved, to be affirmed, and to be a part of this incredible, wide-open, life- and love-affirming mission to which Christ has assigned us all.

How Do You Make Love Stay?

2008-12-11T09:58:00.011-05:00

Someday, after mastering the winds, the waves, the tides and gravity, we shall harness for God the energies of love; and then, for a second time in the history of the world, humanity will have discovered fire. -- Pierre Teilhard de Chardin

Ah, the power of love. That's what Christ offers to us. All this talk of coming again to judge the living and the dead... OK, fine. But with what shall Christ judge the living and the dead? LOVE. And on what basis will we be judged? How well and completely and actively we LOVE. Whoomp, there it is.

I'm not one to artificially separate romantic love (Eros-ish love) from brotherly love (agape-ish love). Truth is, there is nothing more romantic than having a healthy amount of agape mixed in with your Eros To be smitten and on fire with passion is a marvelous thing. To care deeply and work diligently for the spiritual, emotional and physical well-being of the one for whom you feel passion makes that passion even better. However, I do agree it is best not to be inflamed with passion for anyone besides your intended. That would turn church dinners into Melrose Place or much, much worse. True, it would boost attendance for awhile, but, oy, that couldn't end well! Agape without Eros, yes. Eros without agape, no.

To finish the romantic love tangent, when Dan Fogelberg or some other pop singer croons the question “How do you make love stay?”I believe the answer is simple: pay closer attention to your agape (respect, care, compassion, encouragement), and the missing Eros might still come around from time to time. To borrow another Fogelberg-ism, the fire will, indeed, start to mellow through the years. But it can still flare up from time to time with a bit of stoking, so long as you've kept the hearth aglow. Nuff said on that topic?

So, no matter how you are thinking of love at the moment (agape or Eros) let's see if the following lesson will apply. This is a bit from Paul, from his first love letter to the church in Thessalonica. I believe this is Paul's earliest preserved letter...the freshest after his conversion from persecutor of “the People of the Way,” to “Person of the Way” himself. It is full of brotherly affection and friendly advice. It is obvious he deeply loves these folks, and why wouldn't he? Paul first came to Thessalonica after being roundly abused in Phillipi. They loved and listened to him. A church was formed. Paul healed up spiritually and physically among them, then went on his way and was repeatedly stymied in his attempts to get back to visit the ol' neighborhood. So he sent Timothy in his place. Then he wrote this letter to them. In the fifth chapter he says this about sticking together in the hard times to come...that is, making love stay:

5:16 Rejoice always, 5:17 pray without ceasing, 5:18 give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. 5:19 Do not quench the Spirit. 5:20 Do not despise the words of prophets, 5:21 but test everything; hold fast to what is good; 5:22 abstain from every form of evil. 5:23 May the God of peace himself sanctify you entirely; and may your spirit and soul and body be kept sound and blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. 5:24 The one who calls you is faithful, and will do this.

This reading is remarkable to me, giving in terse sentences the simple instructions for best following together a path of faith-to-wholeness in spirit, body and mind. Here are Paul's rules for a life of love that STAYS:

Stay positive (5:16) be happy when they walk through the door,

Stay reverent (5:17) really ask God to bless them,

Stay grateful (5:18) sincerely thank God for them,

Stay energized (5:19) be wings, not dead weight

Stay open-minded (5:20) seek the good and Godly, not strife and controversy

Stay grounded (5:21a) don't simply shut down, exchange thinking and ideas fully, honestly

Stay close to good (5:21b) keep your good/God bearings

Stay far from bad(5:22) don't drift into bitterness, gossip, judgmentalism, anger or fear

Stay focused (5:23) keep stoking your soul, continually tend to your own relationship with God

Stay faithful (5:24) when God blesses you, you can really, really bless others.

Why should we do these things? So God will love us best? NO! So God will love THROUGH us, that we can love better!!! When we are of generous heart and mind, those around us thrive. Don't be stingy with the true love. Open your heart to the “other” (yes, especially the ones in that other group, over there!), because the truth is, there IS NO OTHER. There's only us and God.

Don't give in to the impulse to separate, complicate, obfuscate. Share the love where you are. How do you make love stay? By making more love where you're staying!

Putting Some Multi- in the Media

2008-12-08T15:25:00.006-05:00

Looking through some compatriots' blogs, I see that I have been far too verbose, leaving no breaks for the eye...NO PEEKCHURS!

So here is a break for your entertainment pleasure...

Isn't it strange how the brain works.

I took an intensive course in the "Seven Intelligences" a few years back. It absolutely revolutionized the way I perceive the way I perceive. We all "click" differently, and most traditional measures of intelligence are hopelessly biased toward a few of those ways of clicking, encountering the world and learning.

Realizing that we are differently gifted is relatively easy. Making allowances for those differences in how we reach, preach and teach is far more challenging, but ultimately liberating. In my church, we try to offer different modes of experiencing the Divine. Not sure how successful we are at it, but it is certainly leading our church to evolve.

Our music program is flourishing under the leadership of a cadre of individuals who reach, teach and preach melodically. We have a wonderful member of our congregation who makes banners and wall hangings that are regularly rotated through the sanctuary. We do occasional dramatic presentations, though not nearly enough... We've also added a brand new digital projection unit which will be used in all kinds of creative ways to help people open their hearts, souls and minds to the Holy Experience. And our occasional guided meditations are quite the rage.

Why? Because traditional church can be a mind-numbing experience, when it should be a mind-BLOWING experience.

Here, have another picture:

This is a duck I met outside the Clifton Springs clinic after I spent the night at the bedside of an acquaintance there on a mental health admission. He was a loner (the duck, that is), standing apart from all the other ducks doing their ducky things. "I'm my own duck, dammit!" he seemed to say to the world. "I will not follow the flock.I will not humiliate myself for a scrap of stale bagel. I am the pinnacle of duckdom. "

We spend a lot of our lives being measured to see if we are smart enough, pretty enough, interesting enough, rich enough, erudite enough. But God has created us as part of an amazing palate of ability, flaw, color, dimension and odor (to name just a few variations). Why do we feel the need to categorize, homogenize, institutionalize and sanitize ourselves and each other? I prefer the collage... the mess... the FUNK. How about you?

When was the first time you acknowledged you were different than everybody else? How'd you feel? I think you're weird. Please don't change unless you want to...

2008-12-08T15:22:00.000-05:00

bailing out

2008-11-24T07:41:00.003-05:00

Okay, I'm finally stretching my brain around the whole bailout issue. It didn't really hit my personal tripwire until I read of the Citibank bailout this morning. I've done precious little if any business with AIG or any of the other companies rescued so far. As to the big three auto makers, I am a Toyota man. I bought my first Toyota in 1989 (a pickup I finally sold this past year), and have owned three others besides. They are solidly built, comfortable, reliable, economical vehicles. Detroit has yet to offer anything comparable, in my opinion. And judging by the car lots and TV commercials I've seen, Detroit is still marketing gas-guzzling pickups and SUVs to the testosterone-addled mega-hauling crowd. They don't need a bailout so much as some intelligent leadership. But, hey, I get it that a pretty good percentage of our work-force is tied to the auto industry. So, a pretty good percentage of our economy is tied to counter-intuitive thinking and empty suits. They insist on blaming the unions for their lack of competitiveness, but last I checked, Toyotas and Hondas cost MORE than comparable American vehicles. The Japanese aren't eating Detroit's lunch because their products are cheaper. They are eating Detroit's lunch because they are building better products that American drivers want to buy!

But I digress. The reason the Citibank bailout strikes me is because Citi and I have an ongoing relationship. I have a Citibank credit card with a healthy (for them) balance. Times are tight right now, but Citibank will not lift a finger to bail me out. And if I am late on two payments in any twelve month period, my interest rate will more than double overnight. In fact, if I am late on a utility payment, go temporarily delinquent on an auto loan, or fall even a few days behind on some other credit card payment, Citibank reserves the right to turn the screws to me -- check your credit card agreement, they can do it to you, too! (Thank VP-elect Joe Biden for that...he helped make it law.) So the ordinary consumer can't afford to bleed the least little bit in the water, because, legally, that will result in all the sharks attacking!

What this all tells us is that government of the people, for the people, by the people has very nearly perished from this earth. It is all stacked against us. Our representatives on the local, state and federal level don't seem to have a subtract button on their budget calculators, and most have bought into thoroughly debunked "trickle down" theory rather than protecting the engine that drives the economy: the middle class. Duh!

I am not saying "tax the rich." Those reps who come home and gloat over this or that government grant they have landed are playing a shell game, calling themselves heroes for taking an ever-growing portion of our income and then returning an ever-shrinking portion of our money back to us. I don't see this ending well. I believe Jesus was right in saying "Give unto Caeser what is Caeser's," but he wasn't commenting on a representative democracy. We, the governed, now have a say in governance...or so we have been taught.

What's a good Christian citizen to do? Pray first, then raise holy hell?!? Could be. What do you think of the state of our economy and the solutions offered by government on various levels? How does your faith inform your response? Let's discuss...

Open and Affirming

2008-11-06T11:59:00.000-05:00

Okay, here goes. The leadership team at West Bloomfield Congregational Church, UCC has arrived at the following statement. We will ask our congregation to pray over it, study it and then vote on adopting it as our own at our annual meeting January 4, 2009. Most who have read this statement see it as a simple formalizing of what we have already practiced for decades.

We know as Christians that we are many members, but are one body in Christ. We are members of one another, and we all have different gifts. With Jesus, we are called to love our neighbors as ourselves. We are called to act as agents of reconciliation and wholeness within the world and within the church itself. We join together as a loving Christian community to celebrate and share our common communion and the reassurance that we are indeed created by God, reconciled by Christ and empowered by the grace of the Holy Spirit. Therefore, we do not discriminate against any person, group or organization in membership, appointment, use of facility, provision of services, funding, hiring, or promotion on the basis of sexual orientation, race, gender, age, nationality, ethnicity, economic status, marital status, or physical disability.

That is all there is to it. Yet, that is not all there is to it. To say we will openly embrace, encourage, and even hire anyone regardless of their sexual orientation is not an uncontroversial thing. I know a few of our church members are deeply troubled by this step. We will be speaking about it over the next few weeks in our church, especially in light of explicit Biblical chapter and verse that seem to contradict our stance. This is a deep issue and must not be approached carelessly.
What's your opinion?

Learning Reading

2008-10-28T12:01:00.000-04:00

I love to read. I find it to be the most excellent of all our invented human forms of communication. But how often do we really think about what we are doing when we read? I recently read a brief, Near-Eastern/Western history of reading on www.liveink.com that summed it all up rather nicely. To paraphrase:

Verbal communication is millions of years old, but it was only about 6000 years ago that the Sumerians began drawing pictures in clay to portray ideas and keep track of supplies and events. This is our first evidence of written communication.

About 2000 years later, in 2000 B.C., the Phoenicians came up with the first symbols to represent the sounds of human speech. This first writing was a string of consonants crammed together to represent spoken words (THSFRSTLPHBTWSSTRNGFCNSNTSCRMDTGTHRTRPRSNTSPKNWRDS).

Around 1000 B.C., the Greeks invented vowels(AROUND1000BCTHEGREEKSINVENTEDVOWELS)...

Around 200 B.C., the first punctuation appeared (AROUND200B.C.,THEFIRSTPUNCTUATIONAPPEARED.)...

Around 700 A.D., lowercase letters were developed by Medieval scribes (Around700A.D.,lowercaselettersweredevelopedbyMedievalscribes)...

About 200 years later, in 900 A.D., words were finally separated by spaces, making it possible finally to read silently, rather than sounding out letters out loud. This was a big deal.

Notice that most of the tweaks and advancements in writing and reading were developed concurrently with or even after the writing of the individual books of the Bible, which took place here and there roughly between 1000 B.C. and 150 A.D.

Realizing that we have no original scripture documents – NONE – we can see how remarkable (yes, even miraculous) it is that we have a Bible at all. Our sacred documents come to us from copies of copies of copies of copies of texts written in nearly indecipherable blocks of letters on animal skins, clay or papyrus, each and every letter of which was painstakingly read and rewritten by oil lamp or candlelight by tired monks with aching eyes. A single misplaced, skipped or repeated letter out of millions could change entirely the meaning of a word or passage. In time, these writings would be translated into other languages, and those translations updated as languages evolved. Eventually, scribes would be replaced by movable type, then... you get the idea. The Bibles we read today have passed through countless human hands to get to us. God is God, but writing and reading are uniquely human. It may be God's word, but our mortal fingerprints and thinking are all over, around and through it!

Let us also recognize that we read different materials differently. I suspend disbelief for a good work of fantasy. I read over the same lines repeatedly and open my imagination to complex metaphor for poetry. A text book requires interactive attention, maybe even the taking of notes. I may find myself checking for author bias, or weighing statements against other sources in a work of biography. In short, when I enter the library, how I will read depends on the section in which I am reading.

The Bible – from the Greek Biblios, meaning library – is a collection of books of various sources from various eras in Near-Eastern history: Some of it is the written preservation of stories and rules once memorized and spoken around campfires and communal tents (Torah – The Law or The Teachings). Some of it is a collection of social and political commentaries of various eras (the Prophets). Some of it is the collected wisdom and sacred songs of this or that ruling class (Psalms and Proverbs). Some is the collected accounts of the life, teachings and ministry of our Messiah and his common followers (The Gospels and Acts). Some is the collected letters of itinerant preachers to local churches (the letters of Paul, Peter, John and Jude). Some is political polemic written in veiled terms and thinly disguised code (Revelation). How we read each of these books in our holy library depends on which book we are reading. So, when we read Psalm 137, we should not take it as God's will that we dash the babies of our perceived enemies on the rocks! No, we should read the anger and frustration in the sacred Blues sung by an exiled people toward their captors, the Babylonians. We should feel their sheer desperation for God to rescue them and restore justice. We should, in short, use Psalm 137 as a reminder of what happens to a human soul robbed of its freedom and dignity, and strive to neither oppressed nor oppressor be!

And while we're thinking of it, let's consider the human authors of these books. There is a German term – sitz im leben – which literally means “life setting” of a text. Who was writing this? What was their station in life? What was happening around them when they wrote it? Consider, for example, Paul's admonition from 1st Timothy 2:

Let a woman learn in silence with full submission. I permit no woman to teach or to have authority over a man; she is to keep silent. For Adam was formed first, then Eve; and Adam was not deceived, but the woman was deceived and became a transgressor. Yet she will be saved through childbearing, provided they continue in faith and love and holiness, with modesty.

This is written in our Bibles! Does that mean that we should bar women from preaching and teaching men? Should a man turn off his radio if Joyce Meyer comes on? For the misguided literalist, yes!

But suppose I don't simply read these verses as a timeless command directly from God, but rather, as an excerpt from a letter written by a devout man in 1st century Palestine? In his day, women were almost entirely illiterate and unschooled. In his day, there were only a few men in larger villages who might have access to scripture and theological training. That was this letter's sitz im leben.

Would we remove a female seminary professor or pastor in this day and age solely due to her genitalia and a surface reading of 1st Timothy? Yes, some of us would, despite the vast difference between the era in which this verse was written and our own. This is an example of the damage that can be done when we insist on a childish relationship with scripture. We must not lean on our own understanding, but rather trust in God and the wisdom imparted through the ages. We can dig deeper than our own surface understanding of a text to encounter God's will in scripture. It takes prayerful dedication and hard work, but isn't Godly wisdom worth it?!? If we prayerfully, carefully apply the standards of Paul to our modern reality, we may instead say:

Let those who are unschooled learn in silence with full submission. I permit no ignorant person to teach or have authority over a church. For it was through ignorance and deception that Adam and Eve became transgressors. Yet they will be saved through their life roles, provided they continue in faith and love and holiness, with modesty.

I did not simply pull this interpretation out of thin air, but did my humble best to consider what God may be communicating to me through Paul. I do so humbly, recognizing that I might not have it quite right, and leaning hard on my years of training, research, study of ancient languages and cultures, and my continuing life in Christ and Christian community. If you plan to do the same, I would recommend you do so in community with others, including (as Paul insists above) one or more leaders well-schooled in scripture and tradition. This is very much in the tradition of the rabbis from the first days through today, including Paul and ESPECIALLY Jesus.

Scary? Overwhelming? Darn right it is! But we are called by the God of the Living to no less than our best efforts. In other words, dig in, think, discuss, pray, learn, apply and live!

Happy are those who do not follow the advice of the wicked, or take the path that sinners tread, or sit in the seat of scoffers; but their delight is in the law of the LORD, and on his law they meditate day and night. - Psalm 1:1-2

Sermon from Sunday, October 12, 2008 on Becoming an Open And Affirming Church

2008-10-15T14:04:00.001-04:00

Fundamentals, Not Fundamentalism

I have fielded a lot of requests for transcripts or recordings of this past Sunday's sermon. Mike, our fearless High-Tech leader, is out of town for a few weeks, so there will be some delay in the posting of the podcast of the sermon (eventually available, as are most of my sermons, at http://wbccucc.blogspot.com). So, in the interim, here is an ever-so slightly cleaned up transcript of the sermon.

It begins with three readings from the Revised Common Lectionary for the day:

Exodus 32:1-14 When the people saw that Moses delayed to come down from the mountain, the people gathered around Aaron, and said to him, "Come, make gods for us, who shall go before us; as for this Moses, the man who brought us up out of the land of Egypt, we do not know what has become of him."
Aaron said to them, "Take off the gold rings that are on the ears of your wives, your sons, and your daughters, and bring them to me."
So all the people took off the gold rings from their ears, and brought them to Aaron. He took the gold from them, formed it in a mold, and cast an image of a calf; and they said, "These are your gods, O Israel, who brought you up out of the land of Egypt!"
When Aaron saw this, he built an altar before it; and Aaron made proclamation and said, "Tomorrow shall be a festival to the LORD."
They rose early the next day, and offered burnt offerings and brought sacrifices of well-being; and the people sat down to eat and drink, and rose up to revel.
The LORD said to Moses, "Go down at once! Your people, whom you brought up out of the land of Egypt, have acted perversely;
they have been quick to turn aside from the way that I commanded them; they have cast for themselves an image of a calf, and have worshiped it and sacrificed to it, and said, 'These are your gods, O Israel, who brought you up out of the land of Egypt!'"
The LORD said to Moses, "I have seen this people, how stiff-necked they are.
Now let me alone, so that my wrath may burn hot against them and I may consume them; and of you I will make a great nation."
But Moses implored the LORD his God, and said, "O LORD, why does your wrath burn hot against your people, whom you brought out of the land of Egypt with great power and with a mighty hand?
Why should the Egyptians say, 'It was with evil intent that he brought them out to kill them in the mountains, and to consume them from the face of the earth'? Turn from your fierce wrath; change your mind and do not bring disaster on your people.
Remember Abraham, Isaac, and Israel, your servants, how you swore to them by your own self, saying to them, 'I will multiply your descendants like the stars of heaven, and all this land that I have promised I will give to your descendants, and they shall inherit it forever.'"
And the LORD changed his mind about the disaster that he planned to bring on his people.

Philippians 4:1-9 Therefore, my brothers and sisters, whom I love and long for, my joy and crown, stand firm in the Lord in this way, my beloved.
I urge Euodia and I urge Syntyche to be of the same mind in the Lord. Yes, and I ask you also, my loyal companion, help these women, for they have struggled beside me in the work of the gospel, together with Clement and the rest of my co-workers, whose names are in the book of life.
Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let your gentleness be known to everyone. The Lord is near. Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. Keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and the God of peace will be with you.

Matthew 22:1-10 Once more Jesus spoke to them in parables, saying:
"The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding banquet for his son. He sent his slaves to call those who had been invited to the wedding banquet, but they would not come. Again he sent other slaves, saying, 'Tell those who have been invited: Look, I have prepared my dinner, my oxen and my fat calves have been slaughtered, and everything is ready; come to the wedding banquet.'
But they made light of it and went away, one to his farm, another to his business, while the rest seized his slaves, mistreated them, and killed them. The king was enraged. He sent his troops, destroyed those murderers, and burned their city.

Then he said to his slaves, 'The wedding is ready, but those invited were not worthy. Go therefore into the main streets, and invite everyone you find to the wedding banquet.' Those slaves went out into the streets and gathered all whom they found, both good and bad; so the wedding hall was filled with guests.
"But when the king came in to see the guests, he noticed a man there who was not wearing a wedding robe, and he said to him, 'Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?' And he was speechless. Then the king said to the attendants, 'Bind him hand and foot, and throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.' For many are called, but few are chosen."

Our sermon this morning is Fundamentals, Not Fundamentalism. Our readings this morning are all pretty fundamental. In our Gospel reading you heard a story of an invitation that went out in this parable from Jesus. The invitation went out to everybody who was already a part of the faith community...all who were the Chosen People – all who were Jewish – to come to this banquet. And the banquet was Christ. And many, during his life, refused to come. So he said “open it up to everybody.” And they did open it up to everybody, and many came, and there was much rejoicing.

Then we get to this confounding part in Christ's story where someone who was just pulled off the streets was there at this wedding banquet, and he's chastised for not wearing a celebratory wedding robe. And it sounds unfair, as most folks aren't walking down the street wearing a wedding robe. But remember, this is a parable. You have to treat it like the story it is. You have to dig a little deeper.

What are we really talking about? We're talking about someone who was invited into a faith that wasn't really theirs to begin with. Much like just about anyone Christian. We didn't start out Jewish. We were grafted onto this tree with this God. This parable speaks to anyone who was invited into this faith, accepted the invitation, came in and enjoyed the blessings, but who didn't change in any noticeable way: Came right in and kept right on with the same attitudes and prejudices they'd always had... came into the feast of Jesus Christ and showed no external evidence at all that they had embraced anything life-changing at all. And Jesus tells this fable as if to say: “those people who refuse to redress their crimes or correct their misconceptions – the ones who won't make the least little change to show gratitude for this free gift they are given – are not going to be a part of this banquet.”

-------

In the Epistle reading from Philippians, Paul is heartbroken because two of the women with whom he started up that church – two who rolled up their sleeves and labored side by side with him – were having some kind of argument that was splitting the church. And so he appealed to the others of this faith community: “help these women get along.” He doesn't address the exact issue and say this one's right, this one's wrong. He is not searching for some empirical truth that will shut one of them up. Instead, he says: “find a way to help them put this behind them, end the conflict and recognize any disagreement as petty compared to the greater task of serving Christ.”

So we've talked so far about two fundamental points of a healthy Christian faith:
1.not carrying in your own prejudices and fears when you enter this new life, and
2.not using your faith as a source of conflict and strife.

And then we have that reading from Exodus, which is as fundamental as it comes for our faith. THE GOLDEN CALF.

Now most of us have a Cecil B. DeMille image of that calf...with some woman sensually polishing it with her long, dark hair, while all the loin-clothed, movie lot extras dance and grind around her in a state of debauched arousal. We also naturally equate gold with money. No. No. No.

What is the problem with an idol? Simply this: It is an attempt by finite beings to contain the eternal in a nice, manageable package. Put God in a little, portable box, and stick God wherever you want to. You can move God over here. Don't like the view over here? Move God over there. And you can manipulate God anyway that serves you, shape God into any form that is agreeable to you. THAT is the sin of the golden calf.
Now we Christians don't have any idol like that nowadays, right? We don't have anything that we use to try to put God in our box, right? Nothing we use to say “God agrees with me and God is shaped like this,” right?

Hmmm.

Nothing in Christianity is turned into more of a self-serving idol than this book on the pulpit. We use our Bibles to spread more hate, more division and more oppression than any shiny cow statue could ever bring around. The Bible is our false idol.

- - - - -

Once, long before I went into the ministry, I had a conversation with a gentleman in South Carolina who knew me as a Yankee, but not necessarily as a Christian. And he told me that he was almost kicked out of his church. He was the deacon in charge of scheduling weddings, and he was nearly drummed out of his church for giving a couple permission to marry there. The couple was black, and it says right here in the Bible “each to their own kind.” Black people shouldn't get married in a white church! It says right here in the Bible! THUMP!!

- - - - -

One of my favorite authors is Dr. Eugene Petersen, who wrote a modern translation of the Bible called The Message. And he also wrote a few books for pastors that really strengthen clergy and give them cause for joy, hope and strength. He was raised by a single mom, a beautiful lady and Christian.

His mother was a missionary to the rough and tumble logging camps of the Northwest. Eugene and his mother would travel from remote camp to remote camp by sled, and she would sing and preach and lift up these men so far from home and civilization. She did this for years, and then suddenly it stopped, and she traveled no more to preach and teach.

It wasn't until years later that Dr. Petersen asked his mother why she stopped. And she told him of a group of men confronting her outside a camp meeting, opening their Bibles and reading “women, be silent in the church,” and “it is not right for women to instruct men.” And how many lumberjacks...how many men far from everything they knew and loved, didn't hear the Gospel because a group of self-righteous prigs lifted up their idol and went THUMP!!!

- - - - -

How about a brand new Anglican bishop who, as he goes through his glorious installation, has to wear a bullet-proof vest under his beautiful vestments because there have been so many death threats from his fellow Christians? Gifted pastor or not, he's gay, and “it's an abomination,” THUMP!!!

This, my friends, is our golden calf. This beautiful, sacred series of writings that has so much in it about love, joy and how to be a living, loving child of God; and how to live and celebrate and share all the blessings that are ours; this, my friends, is what we use to put God in a box that we can control. This is what we use to dress up our same old prejudices and fears. This is what we use to come into the pews and not change a thing about ourselves. If we read this book and it doesn't scare us, rip out our hearts and challenge our prejudices and pre-conceived notions, then we aren't reading it deeply enough. If it doesn't give us the occasional headache, then it is nothing more than another lousy golden calf.

Now there are people in this very community who need God, love and a place where they can come and hear what is pure, honest, true and hopeful. And the reason they are not here is what we have done with and to this Bible. We are better than this.

You right now are sitting on a hill in a church that in 1834 – when the only support they had in this wilderness was the Presbyterian church – severed ties with that, their only lifeline to civilization back east because the Presbyterians refused to take a vocal stand against slavery.

You are sitting in a church that in 1893 – 26 years before women had the right to vote, and at a time when women were supposed to be silent in the church – hired it's first female pastor.

You are sitting in a church that, at the height of the race riots of the 1960s, traveled en masse into downtown Rochester to worship at an urban, African-American church, and then invited that same church out here to worship in these very pews with us.

This is our church. This is our scripture. These are not blunt instruments. The fundamentals of our faith are that we love our God with all our heart, soul, mind and strength; and that we love our neighbor as ourselves.

“And who is our neighbor?” as the devout, uber-religious man asked Jesus. Jesus answered that man in a parable in which he lifted up the most detestable of people to the Jew: a Samaritan. Who is your neighbor? The one you detest the most right now. The one you are most prejudiced against, uncomfortable around, fearful of right now is the one Christ points out as the person to love and accept. That is the one who should be here with us now.

Let's take off our prejudices. Let's not cast our prejudices, fears and short-sightedness on God. Let's love our neighbor. That is FUNDAMENTAL.

Now FUNDAMENTALISM is different. It is what we are trying to avoid. Fundamentalism is someone's interpretation of scripture that is only 150 years old. Our scripture is 2000-3000 years old. That OLD TIME RELIGION is NEW. It was a response to something called the ENLIGHTENMENT, when common people finally had their scriptures in a language they could read and began to apply their God-given reason and logic to Biblical thought, just as scholars, rabbis, prophets and priests had done for thousands of years. They had the power to read and discern and influence their own destiny. And some took it even further and said “wait, we can use these same principals to govern ourselves,” and our nation was born. And yet, there are those who would shut us down, using this same Word and saying, “No, it is not your reason. That is not our TRUTH!” And they claim “this is not what the Bible says,” as if the Bible had a mouth and vocal cords and as if what they were doing to it was anything but a bad ventriloquism act supporting their own prejudices.

Let us, my friends, not put words in the Bible's mouth, but, rather, faithful, prayerfully dig deep into all that is written here. With awe, and trembling, let's recognize who and whose we are, and, especially, WHO WE WILL WELCOME regardless of sexual orientation, economic status, race, gender or any other thing that we cynically, faithlessly use to bicker with our brothers and sisters.
That's FUNDAMENTALS as opposed to fundamentalism.

Where's the Honor?!?!?

2008-10-11T16:30:00.000-04:00

I just spent a most detestable hour reading through blogs and watching videos from the presidential campaigns. This is ridiculous and brutal. The hatred, half-truths and outright fabrications meant to assassinate character and prejudice voters is reprehensible. There is no honor in any candidate allowing such activities to take place in their name...in OUR name!

I read up on the candidates' positions on important issues. I followed their statements at debates. I take each at their word on their plans for the nation. I made my choice and am ready for the voting booth.

I do not appreciate the desperate, win-at-all-cost politics of innuendo and character assassination. I do not like cheap shots and impossibly twisted "facts" in front of hand-picked, hate-filled crowds. I do not care for these assaults on the democratic process.

I am ashamed for those who apparently have no shame of their own.

School's In

2008-09-02T14:13:00.000-04:00

Well here we are at one of my least favorite days of the year. The house is empty as the wife and kids have headed back to school. Going home for lunch isn't any great treat right now, as I have to get used to the empty rooms.

Life is moving so terribly fast! Suddenly I've got a kid in 10th and another in middle school. Gone are the days of waiting together for the bus to come. Present are the days of engaging conversations and occasional advice (and my kids are as likely to offer it as ask for it). I definitely enjoy these times with my kids, but it really does seem like the clock is accelerating and they are just a few breaths away from heading out on their own. I love my life too much not to get a little misty over the passing of eras. I am that blessed.

At the birth of my children so many of my elders said "hang on to these times and enjoy them. They are gone before you know it." Wisdom. Wisdom

This Just In: China Still China

2008-08-18T07:17:00.000-04:00

From the Times Online, London:

Michael Sheridan, Beijing

The mystery of the half-filled stands at many events at the 2008 Olympic Games has been solved, according to Chinese internet users, who say it is the result of a policy to prevent the gathering of large and possibly uncontrollable crowds.

They claim ticket sales to the public were secretly restricted. Blocks of tickets went to government departments, Communist party officials or state-owned companies, which have quietly obeyed orders not to hand them out. “People are so angry because they slept all night outside ticket booths and got nothing and now they see this,” said one blogger, Jian Yu.

Official explanations eroded swiftly because internet insurgents have rapidly identified cracks in the perfect facade constructed for the Olympics.

In the nine days since Chinese leaders presided over a grandiose - and, it turns out, partly faked - opening ceremony, one fact after another has eluded the censors and fuelled public indignation at the costs and the charade. Protected, they hope, by online anonymity, some of China’s 1.3 billion people are daring to wonder where it will all end.

Related Links
Anger turns to uprising along the Silk Road
At some football matches in the northern city of Shenyang, only a third of the seats were taken. Even some gymnastics finals, usually one of the biggest attractions on the programme, were not sold out.

Nobody seems to have explained it to the International Olympic Committee, which is baffled by the empty seats, or to the sponsors, who are disappointed.

The policy meant that some British supporters have been deprived of the excitement of seeing the Games. Even parents of competitors, such as those of Rebecca Adlington, the gold medal-winning swimmer, have complained about being unable to get seats.

Jeff Hunter, group operations director for Sportsworld, the official travel and ticket agent for the British Olympic Association, said: “It is surprising that not all the venues have been as full as they could have been.”

Lower-ranking Chinese officials hastily bused in paid “volunteers” to populate the stands in Beijing, appreciating the embarrassment caused by leaving them half-empty, but public relations remain a matter of indifference to most guardians of public order.

Security has been heavy-handed from the start. As the film director Zhang Yimou’s extravaganza kicked off with a boom, I watched on a giant screen in a park, one of the few venues where ordinary Chinese people were allowed to gather.

They cheered as the fireworks exploded, few looking up to find that there were, in fact, none to be seen because the sequence was produced by software, not gunpowder.

They cooed at nine-year-old Lin Miaoke, hardly caring that her lyrics were obviously mimed, and as she sang they went into a patriotic delirium when goose-stepping soldiers raised the national flag. Yet even these loyal citizens could not be trusted. We were surrounded by dozens of police who locked the gates to keep us in and others out.

Chao Chanqing, an exiled journalist widely read on web-sites accessible in China, has accused Zhang, the director, of playing the same role as Leni Riefenstahl, who filmed an epic documentary for Hitler at the Berlin Olympics of 1936.

The director scorns the comparison but he admitted that a Chinese leader ordered him to make changes to the ceremony. “I had no chance to reject his opinion,” he told the Nanfang Weekend newspaper. Analysts said he was referring to vice-president Xi Jinping, heir apparent to the top job.

Government officials swept thousands of migrant workers out of Beijing – the very people who built the stadium, at least 10 of them paying with their lives. Police arrested hundreds of provincial petitioners who sought justice in the capital and sent at least 58 to labour camps for “reeducation”.

The sick were told that routine surgery was cancelled in every hospital and officials shut some psychiatric patients inside their wards.

Even as the nation is supposed to be keeping a keen tally of the gold medal count, dissenters are daring to raise the issue of how much the Games have cost the people of China.

For all its export might, China is still a poor, largely agrarian country with perhaps 700m farmers and 150m migrant workers. The size of its economy is huge but, measured by wealth per head, it ranks 109th in the world, comparable with Swaziland or Morocco.

It faces an acute crisis as its people live longer but fewer are born; the old lack pensions and healthcare must be paid for. Half the population does not have clean drinking water and 16 cities are among the most polluted on earth.

So why, asked the mainland Chinese writers in a Hong Kong magazine named Kaifang (Opening Up), did China blow more than £20 billion on the Games?

They calculate that the total costs may exceed £30 billion, more than the Chinese government will spend this year on education or public health or relief for the Sichuan earthquake. These are questions that would make any ruler nervous.

Chinese leaders prided themselves on the splendid reception for dignitaries and 10,500 athletes. They rejected criticism of their policies on Darfur, Burma and Zimbabwe, brushing aside foreign demonstrators complaining about Tibet.

However, they remain worried about political undercurrents among their people. These can be unexpected. Despite pervasive internet control, censors could not stop nationalist criticism about the diplomatic price China has paid for mounting the Games.

Exhibit one for the ultra-patriots was a border treaty signed on July 21 between China and Russia to settle disputes over their Siberian territories that led to armed clashes during the cold war. Official accounts of the treaty emphasised the return to China of 1½ islands in the icy Amur River that divides the two nations.

Online critics were enraged because the foreign ministry appeared to have recognised the 19th-century conquest of thousands of square miles of land by Tsarist Russia. “These lands belong to all the people of China,” a blogger called “Tiger” wrote. It was only on the day the treaty was signed that the attendance of Vladimir Putin at the opening ceremony of the Games was confirmed.

Exhibit two was an agreement on June 18 between China and Japan to embark on joint exploration for oil and gas in a disputed zone of the East China Sea. It was only after this agreement that Yasuo Fukuda, Japan's prime minister, confirmed that he, too, would attend the opening.

It may seem remote to the athletes and sports fans in Beijing, but national pride is central to the Olympic message that China's government has crafted for its own youth.

Few foreigners will make their way to the Stalinist palace in west Beijing that houses the national military museum, but thousands of schoolchildren were trooping through a new exhibition there last week.

They saw a version that traces their country's descent into poverty and chaos to British aggression in the 1840 opium war. "The imperial powers descended upon China like a swarm of bees, looting our treasures and killing our people," the exhibit reminded viewers.

There was no mention of the famines that may have claimed 30m lives after Mao's "great leap forward", of the decade of chaos in the Cultural Revolution, which killed 1m more, or of the democracy protests in 1989 which ended in the massacre at Tiananmen Square.

Despite the precise attention given to such a perfect display, somebody seems to have missed the bold headline on a student newspaper published in 1919, when China was in a ferment of idealism and its Communist party did not exist.

It stated: "Democracy - a government for the people, by the people and of the people - our motto."

A Mother's Cry

2008-08-14T12:58:00.000-04:00

My Dear Friends,

I recently received an anonymous communication from a Christian parent with an unusual request. I have no way of knowing if or how this person is affiliated with our church, but I recognized a deep hurt, anxiety and confusion, so I will honor the request, which was to offer a Word this Sunday regarding the role of a Christian parent whose adult child has strayed in a particular manner.

Whoever you are, you rightly seek spiritual wisdom to lead you through a complex situation. I offer you this Word from the fourth Gospel:

John 8:2 Early in the morning he came again to the temple. All the people came to him and he sat down and began to teach them.
3 The scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in adultery; and making her stand before all of them,
4 they said to him, "Teacher, this woman was caught in the very act of committing adultery.
5 Now in the law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?"
6 They said this to test him, so that they might have some charge to bring against him. Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground.
7 When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, "Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her."
8 And once again he bent down and wrote on the ground.
9 When they heard it, they went away, one by one, beginning with the elders; and Jesus was left alone with the woman standing before him.
10 Jesus straightened up and said to her, "Woman, where are your accusers? Has no one condemned you?"
11 She said, "No one, sir." And Jesus said, "Neither do I condemn you. Go your way, and from now on do not sin again."

Concerned parent, whoever you are, I ask you to prayerfully reflect on this reading and the path Christ chose. He sheltered the individual from the harm others would inflict, regardless of guilt. He identified himself with and stood up for the sinner, no matter who was watching and what they might think. He did not condemn, but offered instead a steadying hand, quiet forgiveness, simple encouragement and the grace-filled freedom to move on and do better.

Whoever you are, you are in my prayers.

Materialism and Corporate America

2008-07-23T12:38:00.000-04:00

“I know a man, he lost his head. He said: 'The way I feel I'd be better off dead.' He said: 'I've got everything I've ever wanted, now I can't give it up...It's a trap. Just my luck.' ” -- Laurie Anderson, Monkey's Paw, from the album Strange Angels, (C) 1989, Warner Bros.

I see where the Pope spoke to young people in Australia, challenging them to abandon the headlong pursuit of material wealth. I assume he then flew his private jet back to his palatial apartments alongside the opulent, gold-, silver- and marble-filled St. Peter's Basilica. (I am not anti-Catholic. I am pro-irony.) I can only imagine what the humble fisherman-turned-itinerant servant of the Gospel would think of the towering, multi-billion dollar structure that bears his name.

The love of money is the root of much that is evil, Paul warned Timothy (1 Timothy 6:10). I must admit, if I don't love money, I am at least exceedingly fond of it. We don't get nearly enough time together, money and me. But I cherish every moment we spend.

For the thinking, self-examining American Christian, it is difficult to reconcile anti-materialistic Gospel messages with our hotly promoted civic shopping duties in this consumer culture. It is a struggle to wave bye-bye to all of the voices alternately whispering and screaming “BUY BUY.” But many of us view this American life as hopelessly perverted from the pursuit of happiness to the pursuit of MORE.

I believe we as a nation have lost our moral compass. Deregulation has been the mantra of the past four administrations, with devastating results. I provide as evidence the state of our supposed “free-market” economy: The deregulated media has bought out and shut down all competing and minority voices and given us pap in place of substance. The deregulated energy industry has given us the likes of Enron and oil companies that jack up profits to obscene margins as they rape the earth and consumers alike. The deregulated banking industry has given us mortgage and credit crises far worse than anything this nation has ever before seen. The deregulated investment industry has given us Bear-Stearns and many others whose uppermost executives fly off with their millions, immune to the common folks who have seen their retirements flushed down the drain. Deregulated airline industry? A poorly maintained fleet, lousy service and bankruptcies. Deregulated food industries? Outbreaks of food-borne illnesses, reprehensible land and animal stewardship, and brutal labor practices.

Deregulation will only work if the deregulated are willing and able to police themselves. This requires an awareness of – and allegiance to – a higher moral authority. But the current leaders of the corporate world in general seem to suffer from spiritual bankruptcy, doing things to boost stock prices that undermine our lives, our communities, our government and nation.

A for-profit corporation as a legal entity is an artificial person, born selfish and self-absorbed. A for-profit corporation “lives' to make as much money as possible. Such corporations love mammon, as it is the full defining measure of success and self-worth. A corporate entity has no conscience beyond that which its human handlers carry in their Armani briefcases. What's best for the stock price is seldom equivalent to what is best for humanity. But what's best for the stock price is inevitably the focus of the for-profit corporation.

The current state of for-profit America hearkens back to the days of the robber barons, doing whatever it takes to corner markets and eliminate the competition, regardless of what is best for the nation and her citizens. We are encouraged to remain addicted to that which does not satisfy. We are encouraged to help spread the disease of rampant consumerism to every foreign shore. We are encouraged to adopt the every-man-for-himself approach of the soulless corporation.

There is nothing inherently sinful in honestly pursuing prosperity. But I strain to find honesty in today's marketplace. How about you?

Progressive Christianity and Dr. Dobson

2008-06-26T13:09:00.000-04:00

“Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother.” -Mark 3:35

The Rochester Democrat and Chronicle editorial page recently had a great take on James Dobson's ham-handed political Bible-thump, and “signs that Christians who may not share the political views of fundamentalists...are no longer taking a back seat” (Dobson's Monopoly?, Rochester Democrat and Chronicle, Thursday, June 26). It was accompanied by an excellent piece by Susan Estrich (Most of the Faithful are Also Tolerant and Open), in which she shared the results of a recent national poll which showed that most Christians are far more open minded than the few big mouthed cowboys-for-Christ who always seem to find a microphone.

The upshot of the whole Dobson-related editorial was the simple fact that a few media-loving, overbearing “Christian” commentators are finally seen to be far less than the spokespeople for Christ and Christianity. It turns out Dobson, Robertson, et al. don't speak for most of us, and even many conservative evangelicals are turning away from them! WHO KNEW?!? Well, lots of us did.

Christ was the model of compassion, reason and inclusion, and progressive Christians have been a major force of positive – dare I say evolutionary – change ever since. We fight to free the oppressed. We serve the poor. We cared for the earth when green was a mere color, not the hot new destination. In this country, we were the Spiritual push behind public education, independence, abolition, temperance/women's suffrage, fair labor standards, the Civil Rights movement and so much more. We were among the first on the scene in New Orleans, China and Myanmar, and will most likely be among the last to leave. We started the School of the America's protest and Habitat for Humanity, as well as founding Princeton, Harvard and Yale Universities. Some of us are gay. Some of us are blue-eyed, or left-handed, or from Gdansk. Millions of us know our Bibles, vote our consciences and live our faiths gently, with conviction, though not necessarily in 100% agreement. Some of our brethren disown us and claim we will rot in hell, but God is still speaking to us and through us.

All of this without 1-800 numbers, the wholesale demonizing of people we don't understand, or the use of the words God and hate on the same placard. Sure, we've occasionally taken a back seat, but only to offer another child of God their rightful place at the front of the bus.

We are followers of Christ! Doers of the Word!

Jesus' Tasty Fish Sandwiches!

2008-06-23T10:32:00.000-04:00

Guard your steps when you go to the house of God; to draw near to listen is better than the sacrifice offered by fools... -- Ecclesiastes 5:1

I received two interesting “religious” mailings last week.

One came from a mega-church in Oklahoma, whose name I will not mention to avoid giving them any sort of publicity. The mailing included several pieces, the centerpieces of which were a small, paper “prayer rug” and a sealed envelope containing “my very own, personal prophecy.” (The instructions insisted I not open the prophecy until I had knelt on the prayer rug (or I could “simply touch it to my knees”) and contacted the church via phone or return card...so I, of course, ripped the prophecy envelope open immediately. Turns out God is waiting for me to step forward in faith so HE can RICHLY REWARD ME! At the bottom of the SACRED PROPHECY were detailed instructions for “stepping forward in faith” through a generous donation.) Also included was a picture of a gazillion squeaky-clean, Sunday-best, Southwestern white folk standing in front of their arena/sanctuary, fairly blinding the cameraman with their Pepsodent smiles. I don't know if they all swallowed this idiocy, or were only hoping I would. The whole piece was screaming the question: WHAT CAN GOD DO TO HELP ME HERE????

I have grown so tired of slick Prosperity Gospel hucksters. I liken them to those folks who were following Jesus for the tasty, miraculous fish sandwiches (John 6:26 - after the loaves and fishes miracle, a throng seeks out Jesus in Capernaum and he says to them: "...you are looking for me not because you saw signs, but because you ate your fill of the loaves.") Just look at what we can get from God! Praise the Lord and pass the tarter sauce!

The second mailing I received was a humble, computer-generated newsletter from Ecclesia Ministries of Newburgh (New York). Full disclosure: this ministry is master-minded by UCC-ordained clergy...one of our guys. The newsletter was filled with stories of recovery and rehabilitation. One of the group's board members was pushing a shopping cart full of empty cans around Newburgh trying to buy his next drink just two years ago. He and several others have been sent through reputable rehab programs and are now rebuilding their lives as they help others do the same. The mailing focused on a building they are reclaiming for street ministries and shelter space. There were two “asks” in this piece. The first was an invitation to come learn how street ministry is done: visit them and spend a weekend in ministry in September (“we hope that as many as ten of you will join us...”) so you could go back to your own city and set up a similar ministry. The second ask was for money, of course, but not to enter some sort of Holy Ghost lottery that would bring about a jackpot for yourself. No, they asked for money to help them finish the shelter, support and expand outreach ministries, and rescue more addicts and misfits from the streets. The whole piece was screaming the question: WHAT CAN I DO TO HELP GOD HERE???

So you tell me, which of the above questions is the more faithful to ask?

The primary focus of the follower of Christ must be on feeding the flock, not feeding the face.

P.S. Ecclesia Ministries of Newburgh, P.O. Box 1621, Newburgh NY 12551-1621
www.Ecclesia-Newburgh.org

2008-06-17T07:08:00.000-04:00

It's been more than a month since I posted! Here is a piece that responds to one of those chain e-mails. I get a lot of these from folks in my church. Sometimes they are looking for my response. Sometimes I think they just want to tweak me!

Anyway, here is the chain letter from "Angry Woman," purportedly a New Jersey housewife. I print it in its entirety, followed by each section of the letter, with my response attached. It's a bit of a slog, but I look forward to responses and dialogue after...

WOW! WHAT A LETTER! Letter from one 'Angry Woman'
I don't know who wrote it but they should have signed it. Some powerful words. This woman should run for president.
Written by a housewife from New Jersey and sounds like it! This is one ticked off lady.

Are we fighting a war on terror or aren't we? Was it or was it not started by Islamic people who brought it to our shores on September 11, 2001? Were people from all over the world, mostly Americans, not brutally murdered that day, in downtown Manhattan , across the Potomac from our nation's capitol and in a field in Pennsylvania ? Did nearly three thousand men, women and children die a horrible, burning or crushing death that day, or didn't they? And I'm supposed to care that a copy of the Koran was 'desecrated' when an overworked American soldier kicked it or got it wet?...Well, I don't. I don't care at all. I'll start caring when Osama bin Lade n turns himself in and repents for incinerating all those innocent people on 9/11. I'll care about the Koran when the fanatics in the Middle East start caring about the Holy Bible, the mere possession of which is a crime in Saudi Arabia I'll care when these thugs tell the world they are sorry for chopping off Nick Berg's head while Berg screamed through his gurgling slashed throat. I'll care when the cowardly so-called 'insurgents' in Iraq come out and fight like men instead of disrespecting their own religion by hiding in mosques. I'll care when the mindless zealots who blow themselves up in search of nirvana care about the innocent children within range of their suicide.
I'll care when the American media stops pretending that their First Amendment liberties are somehow derived from international law instead of the United States Constitution's Bill of Rights. In the meantime, when I hear a story about a brave marine roughing up an Iraqi terrorist to obtain information, know this: I don't care. When I see a fuzzy photo of a pile of naked Iraqi prisoners who have been humiliate d in what amounts to a college-hazing incident, rest assured: I don't care. When I see a wounded terrorist get shot in the head when he is told not to move because he might be booby-trapped, you can take it to the bank: I don't care.
When I hear that a prisoner, who was issued a Koran and a prayer mat, and fed 'special' food that is paid for by my tax dollars, is complaining that his holy book is being 'mishandled,' you can absolutely believe in your heart of hearts: I don't care.
And oh, by the way, I've noticed that sometimes it's spelled 'Koran' and other times 'Quran.' Well, Jimmy Crack Corn and-you guessed it-I don't care!! If you agree with this viewpoint, pass this on to all your E-mail friends. Sooner or later, it'll get to the people responsible for this ridiculous behavior! If you don't agree, then by all means hit the delete button. Should you choose the latter, then please don't complain when more atrocities committed by radical Muslims happen here in our great Country!
And may I add: 'Some people spend an entire lifetime wondering if they made a difference in the world. But, the Marines don't have that problem' -- Ronald Reagan I have another quote that I would like to add AND.......I hope you forward all this. 'If we ever forget that we're One Nation Under God, then we will be a nation gone under' Also by.. Ronald Reagan
One last thought for the day: In case we find ourselves starting to believe all the Anti-American sentiment and negativity, we should remember England 's Prime Minister Tony Blair's words during a recent interview. When asked by one of his Parliament members why he believes so much in America , he said: 'A simple way to take measure of a country is to look at how many want in.. And how many want out.

Only two defining forces have ever offered to die for you:
1. Jesus Christ
2. The American G. I. One died for your soul, the other for your freedom.

YOU MIGHT WANT TO PASS THIS ON,

AS MANY SEEM TO FORGET BOTH OF THEM.

AMEN!

Now, Corey's response:

Good morning, everybody. At first I just hit the delete button on this e-mail. But, after sleeping on it I realized how many of the people on this list of recipients I know and respect, especially the lovely lady who sent it to me. I also thought of my father-in-law, involved in 11 invasions in the Pacific Theatre in World War II, and how this angry woman questions HIS patriotism under her wide, dark net of anger. So, meaning no offense, this is one proud American's response. As I read through her whole letter, will you read through mine and respond as you see fit?

WOW! WHAT A LETTER!

Letter from one 'Angry Woman' I don't know who wrote it but they should have signed it. Some powerful words. This woman should run for president. Written by a housewife from New Jersey and sounds like it! This is one ticked off lady.

'Are we fighting a war on terror or aren't we? Was it or was it not started by Islamic people who brought it to our shores on September 11, 2001? Yes, we are fighting terrorism...but "the War on Terror" is a mere slogan if you use as a cover to simply kill Arab Muslims, regardless of their involvement in the 9/11 atrocities. Iraq had nothing to do with 9/11. This is not a matter for debate. It is a simple, irrefutable FACT. Saddam Hussein and Wahabi Muslims HATED each other. There was no connection. Those boys were mostly from Saudi Arabia, which HATED Saddam Hussein. The sick minds who planned and promoted the whole thing continue to hole up in Afghanistan and Pakistan. If you want to fight a war on terror, don't open up new fronts away from and unrelated to the battle!

Were people from all over the world, mostly Americans, not brutallymurdered that day, in downtown Manhattan , across the Potomac from ournation's capitol and in a field in Pennsylvania ? Did nearly three thousand men, women and children die a horrible, burning or crushing death that day, or didn't they? Yes, they were and they did...and it was a terrible tragedy. They were killed by a group of hateful, evil, deluded men (mostly Saudi extremists) who, with their evil leader of the same extremist sect, have embraced murder and mayhem as the best way to get their point across. We Americans know better than to behave like that in the world, right?

And I'm supposed to care that a copy of the Koran was 'desecrated' when an overworked American soldier kicked it or got it wet?...Well, I don't. I don't care at all. Well you should. You're an American, aren't you? You should care that our American soldiers are overworked and under-equipped. You should care that they have been stretched to the limit. You should care that they are being placed in hazardous duty without adequate training or a clear mission. You should care that anyone in the world should see America as anything but tolerant of religious freedom. You should care that American's would hold men in prison without trial for five or more years. We're Americans. We're the ones who care about human rights!

I'll start caring when Osama bin Laden turns himself in and repents for incinerating all those innocent people on 9/11. That's not how it works. The bringers of justice never set justice aside. Lovers of liberty never fail to respect it. Americans should never tie their behavior to the actions of the likes of Osama bin Laden. That would be un-American.

I'll care about the Koran when the fanatics in the Middle East start caring about the Holy Bible, the mere possession of which is a crime in Saudi Arabia This, too, lowers you to the level of the fanatic. The terrorists are angry at a few, so they'll lash out at anybody under the same flag. You're angry at a few, so you'll lash out at anybody under the same religion.

I'll care when these thugs tell the world they are sorry for chopping off Nick Berg's head while Berg screamed through his gurgling slashed throat. Again, a sick, terrible thing, but do you really want to sink to that mindless level? It is not only the terrorists who are dying, but tens of thousands of innocents! The terrorists weren't in Iraq. They came there to fight us, tens of thousands of innocent Iraqi men, women and children are dying. They had a terrible time under brutal Saddam Hussein, but they are suffering mightily under our occupation, too!

I'll care when the cowardly so-called 'insurgents' in Iraq come out and fight like men instead of disrespecting their own religion by hiding in mosques. Oh! You were so close to getting this right, but your anger blinded you! Much of the Muslim world is incensed at the actions of these few radicals. If you and I care about the innocent Muslims and the sanctity of their faith, THEN we will be seen as heroes and liberators. If we continue to make everyone suffer for the crimes of the few, we'll just be lumped in with the terrorists. If you're waiting for extremists to change before you will show any compassion, then you have just become an extremist yourself. CARE NOW!

I'll care when the mindless zealots who blow themselves up in search of nirvana care about the innocent children within range of their suicide. The mindless are incapable of caring. To tie your actions to their thinking only makes you mindless, too.

I'll care when the American media stops pretending that their First Amendment liberties are somehow derived from international law instead of the United States Constitution's Bill of Rights. And I would say the American media has given the Bush Administration and the congress a pass on this whole Iraq War. I would say the mainstream media is not free -- it is bought and paid for by the military-industrial complex Dwight D. Eisenhower warned us about. The Main Stream Media was fairly giddy about the buildup to war, what with all their flashy graphics, their spiked ratings, and their "embedded" reporters. They failed us, and the many who gave their lives for a free and independent press.

In the meantime, when I hear a story about a brave marine roughing up an Iraqi terrorist to obtain information, know this: I don't care. Care about the Marine and the honor code he swore to and believes in, but which he has been ordered to disregard.

When I see a fuzzy photo of a pile of naked Iraqi prisoners who have been humiliate d in what amounts to a college-hazing incident, rest assured: I don't care. Care for American justice and our reputation in the world. Humiliation at gunpoint and in front of snarling guard dogs under people who have the very power of life and death over you is unlike any hazing incident of which I have ever heard. Beyond that, when I was in college, I avoided the kind of alcoholic,frat-house idiots who pulled hazing rituals. Please don't suggest the men and women of our armed forces are simple, frat-boy jerks, or under-estimate the power of American ideals in this world by excusing inexcusable behavior...especially when the suits and officers who gave the orders stepped back and let the enlisted men and women take the hit on the whole sordid mess! Care about the soldiers who were abandoned by their leaders and had their military careers and lives ruined for this! Care about the Muslims who were trying to support us and our cause, but then had to explain how the "liberators" could do such things to people who hadn't even been brought to trial, and in the very same prison infamous for Saddam Hussein's evil deeds of like nature! Wake up and care about the world beyond your nose!

When I see a wounded terrorist get shot in the head when he is told not to move because he might be booby-trapped, you can take it to the bank:I don't care. Care about the soldier forced to make such a terrible decision in the heat of battle. I have a nephew who went to this war an upstanding, upbeat young man, and who came back from this war scarred and troubled. You should care about what our boys and girls have to do over there to survive. We knew this was going to be a chaotic bloodbath before we went in:
"I would guess if we had gone in there, I would still have forces in Baghdad today. We'd be running the country. We would not have been able to get everybody out and bring everybody home.
"And the final point that I think needs to be made is this question of casualties. I don't think you could have done all of that without significant additional U.S. casualties. And while everybody was tremendously impressed with the low cost of the conflict, for the 146 Americans who were killed in action and for their families, it wasn't a cheap war.
"And the question in my mind is how many additional American casualties is Saddam (Hussein) worth? And the answer is not that damned many. So, I think we got it right, both when we decided to expel him from Kuwait, but also when the president made the decision that we'd achieved our objectives and we were not going to go get bogged down in the problems of trying to take over and govern Iraq..."
-- Secretary of Defense Dick Cheney, August, 1992, when asked why President George H. W. Bush didn't march on to Baghdad.

When I hear that a prisoner, who was issued a Koran and a prayer mat, and fed 'special' food that is paid for by my tax dollars, is complaining that his holy book is being 'mishandled,' you can absolutely believe in your heart of hearts: I don't care. Care and be proud that that prisoner knew enough about our nation to expect better from Americans. I do, too.

And oh, by the way, I've noticed that sometimes it's spelled 'Koran' and other times 'Quran.' Well, Jimmy Crack Corn and-you guessed it-I don'tcare!! In all your anger, you don't care about much, do you? People are different. Places are different. You can't "bring freedom to the world" without recognizing and respecting these differences. Don't make the mistake of considering willful ignorance a sign of strength and patriotism. That's the flaw of the extremist.

If you agree with this viewpoint, pass this on to all your E-mail friends. Sooner or later, it'll get to the people responsible for this ridiculous behavior! If you don't agree, then by all means hit the delete button. Should you choose the latter, then please don't complain when more atrocities committed by radical Muslims happen here in our great Country! Your methods give them new excuses and recruitment videos. You want to create new terrorists? Tell the world you don't care about the Muslim faith, imprisonment without trial, torture and the death of tens of thousands of innocent civilians who were never in any way connected to 9-11. Good God, wise up, Angry Woman!

And may I add: 'Some people spend an entire lifetime wondering if they made a difference in the world. But, the Marines don't have that problem' -- Ronald Reagan

I have another quote that I would like to add AND.......I hope you forward all this.

'If we ever forget that we're One Nation Under God, then we will be a nation gone under' Also by.. Ronald Reagan

Politics is supposed to be the second oldest profession. I have come to realize that it bears a very close resemblance to the first.

Above all, we must realize that no arsenal, or no weapon in the arsenals of the world, is so formidable as the will and moral courage of free men and women.

The ultimate determinant in the struggle now going on for the world will not be bombs and rockets, but a test of wills and ideas -- a trial of spiritual resolve: the values we hold, the beliefs we cherish and the ideals to which we are dedicated.
-- You guessed it, all quotes from President Reagan!

One last thought for the day: In case we find ourselves starting to believe all the Anti-American sentiment and negativity, we should remember England 's Prime Minister Tony Blair's words during a recent interview. When asked by one of his Parliament members why he believes so much in America , he said: 'A simple way to take measure of a country is to look at how many want in...And how many want out.'
Those who insist on holding America and Americans to the very highest standards are the true patriots. As Americans, we are born not simply privileged. We are born RESPONSIBLE. Care for the world and its people is the first, best test to determine a true American... and a true follower of Christ, for that matter!

Only two defining forces have ever offered to die for you:
1. Jesus Christ He did not die for our anger and ignorance. He died FROM our anger and ignorance.
2. The American G. I. The least we could do is uphold the high ideals they died for!

One died for your soul, the other for your freedom.

I would add a third: the American Activist, who died for our freedom and our weakest members (who the Apostle Paul instructed us to honor the most). It is the activist who keeps our government honest, our citizens aware and inspired, and our outcasts welcomed into American society with all its freedoms and responsibilities. It is the American Activist who won Angry Woman her right to vote. It is the American Activist who insisted on freedom and a voice for all citizens. It is the American Activist who integrated our military. It is the American Activist who demanded body armor and armored vehicles for our soldiers. It is the American Activist who is demanding better care for our wounded veterans and A NEW G.I. BILL. We have already seen what happens if we blindly entrust the care of our veterans, National Guard and enlisted soldiers to our government: budget cuts, under-equipping and unnecessary death and injury. Thank you, American Activist, for truly supporting our truths (and troops), not just slapping a ribbon on your car and pretending you've done something to help!

YOU MIGHT WANT TO PASS THIS ON,

AS MANY SEEM TO FORGET BOTH OF THEM.

AMEN!

I wish you all peace as only God can give. Pray for our world. Work for its well-being.

Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed through the renewing of your mind in Christ Jesus. -- Romans 12:2

Rev. Corey Keyes

"Do you believe in miracles?"

2008-05-13T08:20:00.000-04:00

...asked the kerjillion-celled, carbon-based life form as he and several billion companions clung to their little spinning rock, only the barest wisp of vapor protecting them from the infinite dead, cold vacuum of space.

We are incredibly improbable miracles. Our impossibilities are endless. When we speak of miracles, we tend to think of occurrences seemingly outside the realm of natural occurrence. But in truth, natural occurrence is, itself, miraculous.

So I don't believe God caused the sun to literally stand still in the sky for a day (those Hebrew writers were wonderfully poetic and figurative in their writings). I still believe in miracles, and even agree there may be the occasional miraculous intervention of an attentive God. I don't need to swallow it all at face value to believe it all, do I?

Do you?

Let's discuss!

For Hard Economic Times

2008-04-26T09:29:00.001-04:00

Let's start this blog entry off with one quick, simple assertion: compared to wealth and want as known in Christ's time, we are, all of us in America, filthy, stinking rich. I don't care how badly you have it here, if you are reading this, you would be considered wealthy by first-century standards. So, throughout this post, you should read "rich" as "me." Capice?

Hard economic times are here. I know so many people who are on the verge of losing hearth, home and health. Fuel and food costs are through the roof and moving higher. Jobs have wandered off to places around the globe that pay slave wages and dump waste at will. Tough times, right? Right.

Now I can't help thinking of the whole idea of trickle down economics: the idea that you give the richest folks breaks and the benefit trickles down to the poorest through investments, job creation, service industries, etc. It's crazy, but it just might work. Trickle down theory hinges on one principle: GENEROSITY. The rich get richer and they spread it around to the rest.

But there is an equal and opposite theory which states: put more money into the hands of the middle and lower classes and they -- the major consumers -- will spur the economy. If tax breaks to the wealthy are trickle down strategies, then breaks to the not-so-rich might be seen as capillary action strategies. Whatever. The central point is this: like theory one, this second theory also hinges on GENEROSITY.

So the deal is all our best economists on the left and right are suggesting the same thing: The only way to recover from communal and personal want and hardship is to give away what you have...share it with the rest of the community. Sounds like Christ to me.

St. Basil, the 4th century Bishop of Caesarea, was recently quoted extensively in Sojourners magazine. Interested in the economic recovery? Check this out:

"Isn't it true that you fell off the womb naked? Isn't it true that naked you shall return to the earth? Where is your present property from? If you think that it came to you by itself, you don't believe in God; you don't acknowledge the creator and you are not thankful to him who gave it to you. But if you agree and confess that you have it from God, tell us the reason why he gave it to you...

"He who strips the clothed is to be called a thief. How should we name him who is able to dress the naked and doesn't do it? Does he deserve some other name? The bread that you possess belongs to the hungry. The clothes that you store in boxes belong to the naked. The shoes rotting by you belong to the bare-foot. The money that you hide belongs to anyone in need. You wrong as many people as you were able to help [but didn't]."

Now is the time to share what you have with those less fortunate than yourself. Not only is this, your Christian duty, good for the soul...turns out it's good for the economy, too!