September 27, 2017

But I say to you that listen, 'Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.' – Jesus, Luke 6:27-28

There is no shortage of distressing news making the rounds. Not only distressing news, but news that elevates tension and anxiety. And it is not only the news that elevates tension and anxiety, but any number of responses to any number of stories regarding any number of positions.

Whether it's the debate over whether or not football players should stand for the national anthem, or whether the focus is on the president's numerous twitter posts, or whether the focus is on national healthcare, or whether the focus is on any number of other issues, comments, opinions, and replies have been . . . well . . . less than charitable.

What has been particularly distressing for me has been to hear or read any number of comments from Christians formed with invective, spiteful, derogatory, or simply hateful speech.

We live in a political world. Living together as a community – whether as a nation, municipality, parish, or family – is political. At its core, politics is nothing more than how we live together. To paraphrase Jesus, “When two or three are gathered together, you will have politics.”

And when you have two or three or more gathered together, there will be a variety of opinions. Some of which you will agree and some of which you will disagree.

We don't always have to agree with each other. I still love my wife and remain in a relationship with her despite our many disagreements over the years.

But as Christians we must do better in our disagreements. We must not allow ourselves to devolve into spewing forth the rage and hatred toward those with whom we disagree. As Christians we must continually strive to follow not only in the steps of Christ, but in how he spoke to his enemies and those who hated him. We must work to love our enemies, do good to those who hate us, bless those who curse us, and pray for those who abuse us.

In your comments, in your tweets, in your Facebook posts, are you emulating Christ, or are you allowing rage to rule your tongue?

Blessings,

September 20, 2017

“Because of my political views, which are arguably religious, it will be impossible for me to trust two attorneys that are my political and biological enemies.” – Dylann Roof

There was a story yesterday that popped up on my news feed about Dylann Roof, the white supremacist and domestic terrorist who killed nine people in a Charleston, SC, church just over two years ago. He is apparently unhappy with his two court-appointed lawyers, one of which is Jewish and one of which is Indian, and wants them removed from his case.

His hatred for non-whites runs so deep that he is repulsed at the idea of having to come under any sort of influence or contact with those he deems inferior.

Years ago I was watching an episode of “The Jeffersons,” and George mistakenly got involved with a group of white supremacists (he interpreted their talk of “cleaning up the building” to be something quite different). During the meeting, the leader had a heart attack and George was the only one who knew CPR and he saved this man's life. As he was being loaded into the ambulance, the son tells the dad it was George who saved him. “You should have let me die.”

Hatred for those not like us can run deep. And that hatred is real; not just some scripted scene playing out on a sitcom, as witnessed by the actions of Dylann Roof and others.

We are living in conflicted times when those who hold opinions and beliefs like Dylann, and those who teach and recruit others into that belief system are no longer hiding in the shadows. They are comfortable enough to come out into the open speaking out against the presence and existence of those not like them. This is bad news.

But the good news is that these people are now visible. The hatred with which these people are driven is now exposed to the world. We have the opportunity to stand up against that hatred. We have the opportunity to be counted as those who stand opposed to hatred, not only the hatred espoused by Dylann and other white supremacists, but the hatred of those opposing them.

We not only have the opportunity to do this, we have a moral, ethical, and theological obligation to stand up and speak out against hatred. We must not be silent. And we must not return violence with violence.

The hatred of Dylann Roof and those of his ilk runs deep; and that is very bad news.

Love runs deeper; and that is very good news.

Blessings,

September 6, 2017

Welcome.

That word has several different connotations. In one sense it conveys a place of generosity, hospitality, inclusion, safety, and maybe comfort. People, my wife and I included, often have “Welcome” mats at their front door. I've seen many a banner or flag hanging near a front door proclaiming the same message.

I've often wondered to myself, “What would happen if I showed up at one of those doors, knocked, and asked to come in?” And then I've wondered if my reception would be different based on how I was dressed. What would happen if I showed up in a grungy t-shirt, pants down past my backside with boxer shorts plainly visible, and my Carmel's Goosetown Mafia hat worn sideways? What would happen if I showed up with ripped jeans, torn shirt, and blood dripping down my face? What would happen if I showed up in a suit and tie carrying any number of “Jesus Loves You” brochures? Or a suitcase labeled, “Fuller Brush?” What would happen if I were black?

You can play any number of those scenarios out in your mind's eye, but until you actually try it you won't really know.

It also works the other way. “What would happen,” we can ask ourselves, “if someone actually shows up at my front door saying, 'I saw the welcome sign; may I come in?'”

In essence this is what we do every Sunday at St. John's. We hang a sign out front that says, “Welcome,” and we open our doors inviting anyone and everyone to enter this house we care for. Do we mean it? If we think we do, are we prepared for what might happen?

Are we prepared for the baggy-pantsed, backward-hat wearing young adult to come in and lounge in a pew? Are we prepared to receive the well-dressed, religiously earnest salesperson? Are we ready to cope with the beaten, bloodied, victim needing assistance? Are we willing to not shush the young families with babies who cry during sermons?

I think, hope, and pray that we are.

This Sunday we will celebrate St. John's Day and Ministry Fair. This is the day you will get to see all, or almost all, of the ministries this parish supports and participates in. This is the day you will have the opportunity to offer your time and talent to any of those ministries. This is the day when we are specifically reminded that all are welcome here at St. John's.

And this is the day when we should process what that word, Welcome, means to us both corporately and individually.

And as we move forward, it's worth contemplating how others perceive our words of welcome, and whether or not we live up to expectations.

Blessings,