Hard to be hopeful (but I will try)

Sometimes it is hard to be hopeful. Just the political climate alone in this nation is enough to make me want to move to Spain. The state of Texas is slowly becoming a theocracy in the worst way, and with another term of Rick Perry on the horizon, things will be bleak for sure. The mid-term elections revealed how so many of our voters simply do not care (and likely most of them do not know; ignorance is not bliss in this case) about real issues but they merely believe spin, innuendo and lies. A poli-sci friend is teaching a college class called National Government. I asked, "Is that in the theater department listed as a comedy?" He replied, "It's listed as a tragedy!" (and he was mostly serious).

But since this is a season of thanks, I will dig deep and try to be thankful for glimmers of hope. I am hopeful when I talk to young adults who are not duped by the far-right rhetoric that just does not add up. I am hopeful when one of our Bishops (Will Willimon) calls to task the Institute on Religion and Democracy (IRD) and says that they are no good for the Church and they do not represent Christian values by any stretch. I only wish other Bishops would make these kinds of stands. I am hopeful when I hear Warren Buffet say that the rich should pay more taxes and that tax cuts for the upper brackets never really do "trickle down." This kind of honesty from one of the richest persons in the U.S. is encouraging. I am hopeful when I know that many people (even if their motives are self-serving) will volunteer this week to help feed the poor and/or homeless. I am hopeful because we will soon begin another season in the church that is rooted on hope, liberation and new birth.

There are many other examples that help me remain hopeful. I know that hope is not just shallow optimism; it is something that comes with a price, it is hard work and it can transform not only our outlook on things but also our actions. In some ways, to reflect in this way is in itself to be hopeful. So I will continue to work at it no matter how dismal things appear to be. Ultimately, I can only control my own attitudes and actions. I am hoping that, too, will somehow make a difference. I hope.

Real politics

Heard a piece on radio about our current political scene. It seems that Republicans blame all of our current economic woes (though our recession has officially ended) on Obama. They say he is a socialist. They say he is a Muslim. The Tea Party folks say the same things and add several other false claims (lies). There are some things we know for sure. We know that during Bush's (pick one) administration spending went through the roof, the richest got the largest tax cuts, and our deficit doubled at least. And now, not quite 2 years of the Obama term, they are saying it is all his fault?

We also know that since Obama took office, the working class has actually paid less taxes. We know that Obama is undeniably not a Muslim. We know that Obama is far from being a socialist (when people in other countries hear this claim they laugh!). But it does not matter what the facts are. People believe these lies and so fear, hatred, and paranoia abounds. It is absolutely scary.

And there are double standards based on race. When the Tea Party gun lovers marched in Washington (in front of the White House even) with guns out in open, with signs of hatred, and camo garb, nothing happened. If a group of people of color (Middle Easterners, say) had done this, there would have been a fire storm of response and maybe even violent counter attacks.

Our current political scene is a big mess. Truthfully both sides have their serious problems. But if we allow the lies of many of the right wing to take control, we will see another Bush-era state of affairs. This means we will have more deficits, more ill will in the world toward the U.S.A., Wall Street running amok, and the upper rich brackets will continue to rule the day. I don't know how we can maintain civility, but I'm hoping that more Dems step up and speak truth. I know some are, but we need more. But then again, what do I care: I consider myself more aligned with the Green Party (i.e. if it still even exists!). God help us all!

Broadway Baptist

Another Baptist church in Texas has taken a big step. Broadway Baptist in Fort Worth severed ties to the Baptist General Convention of Texas over its continued support, acceptance, and welcoming of gay members. Truth is, this church has had this element for many years (and as rumor has it, including a somewhat prominent member). I suspect it was one of the things about this congregation that most everyone knew but chose not to talk about it. Nowadays, it is easier--for various reasons, good reasons--to talk openly about sexual orientation. And this has become easier for churches as well. This church has been a high-profile congregation for various reasons. Several of their former pastors have gone on to bigger things (Cecil Sherman, John Claypool, Weldon Gaddy, just to name a few). They have had women clergy and women deacons for decades. Further, when fundamentalism began its takeover of the SBC, Broadway was always aligned with the 'moderate' voice in that fight.

So it should come as no huge surprise that Broadway would now take this stance regarding welcoming persons in the GLBT community. It follows suit after Royal Lane Baptist Church in Dallas did the same thing and over the same issue. It is a new day in Texas Baptist life: Baptists are welcoming gays! But it is also a sign that some Baptist congregations are being Baptist again; they are being autonomous. This aspect of historic Baptist principles had been all but nullified when the fundamentalists took over, issued edicts, and changed language of the Baptist Faith and Message about women's issues and homosexuality. It became a climate of "either you believe as we do, or you're not a part of us" and local and state groups began "dis-associating" with dissenting congregations. This un-Baptist practice became commonplace for the new fundamentalist SBC. As a result, splinter Baptist groups emerged and the SBC did housecleaning on all its seminaries making them bastions of fundamentalism (e.g. prior to the takeover, no SBC seminaries espoused dispensationalism; now I would guess all of them do).

This "trend" has already begun in other states and especially among other Baptist groups (American Baptists), this has been taking place for years. Things take a little longer in the South. I only hope that our own denomination will grow up as well and we Methodists can begin to take similar stances towards our GLBT sisters and brothers. At the risk of stereotyping, if our Baptist friends can do this, certainly we can, too! We all need to take these positions on this and other issues that deal with social justice, peace and inclusion.

Quran-burning idiots

With news of this guy in Florida who will lead his "church" in a Quran-burning event, this got my mind to thinking on how to respond to such people. It reminds me that some people who get into this profession (or as it should be, 'calling) are just a bit crazy. As one of my clergy friends reminds me, the church seems to draw quite a few neurotics (and sometimes psychotics). My primal inclination is to want to fly to Florida (I could use the miles!) and deck him. I've seen pictures of him and I'm pretty sure I could take him down easily. But I know this would only be a temporary fix and inappropriate. So how do we respond?

One way is to talk to people. I will bring this up in small groups where I live. I will apologize to my Muslim acquaintance in the locker room at the Y. And I will write about it in venues like this blog. I couldn't get on to this guy's church website but, (it kept responding with 'server not found' . . . maybe he forgot to pay his internet fees) my suspicion is that he is an end-times, fundamentalist, dispensationalist, right-wing, uneducated preacher. Now mind you, I don't lump all of these categories as all-encompassing. One could be any one of those and not be a crazy, right-winger like Terry Jones. But he is obviously uneducated. He is ignorant--or in denial--about Christianity's own texts that are laced with violent language and imagery (Psalm 137:9 comes to mind . . . "Happy shall they be who take your little ones and dash them against the rock!"). And what is more problematic, this language assumes that it is Yahweh-endorsed. Not to mention, Christian history continues to try and live down its own violent, imperialistic, oppressive past (at certain points, Christians did more than burn sacred texts, they burned people!).

If this guy follows through with his show of ignorance, the ripple effect will likely be wide. International attention will be detrimental. One thing to remember is that Terry Jones does not represent all of Christianity. In fact, I would say he is not even Christian. Likewise, we know that extremists of any ilk do not represent a consensus of any one group. Herein lies our hope: Maybe people of all faiths can remember that we each have our own lunatic fringe. In the meantime, perhaps we can do a better job of getting together and talking and learning from each other so we can always offer alternative voices. Also in the meantime, I wish Terry Jones would contract food poisoning or diarrhea (the two are often closely related) so that by Saturday he will be too weak and too sick to follow through with this insane act. I usually do not wish diarrhea on anyone, but in this case I will make an exception.

Hauerwas, war, and nonviolence

I need to go and get Stanley Hauerwas's new memoirs, Hannah's Child. I don't agree with all of what Hauerwas writes or says, but he is ever the theological provocateur that the Church needs. I especially like his views about violence and war: He is a staunch pacifist. He says that being a pacifist and being a xian are intrinsically tied together; because one is xian then it follows that one is pacifist.

This week's text from Luke is one that Hauerwas has preached on (I heard one such occasion many moons ago in Fort Worth). From his title, you can guess which text it is: "Hating Mothers as the Way to Peace." Again, I don't agree with all of it, but to challenge our long-held views about protecting family--even to the point of killing--is something he unpacks in this commentary. If we say we can kill to protect our loved ones, then we betray a part of our xian faith, i.e., the ethics of peace and not killing. I like it when he says that in war time, what soldiers ultimately become committed to is not a jingoist national pride. Rather, soldiers learn to kill to protect others in their ranks (and w/ whom they have come to know; the Speilberg film, Saving Private Ryan, I think, illustrated this brilliantly; the soldiers in that unit were very close, and what caused tension was when they went on a mission to find and save an "outsider"--Private Ryan--who was not even one of their own).

In our culture of violence and war, Hauerwas is a much needed voice. I heard him say once in a lecture to a group of preachers, "When was the last time you preached against war in the pulpit?" This was in the early stages of the invasion of Iraq in 2003. Too many preachers have become war mongers and at the same time, call it faithful xianity. Balderdash! Hauerwas reminds us that if we truly follow the radical ethics of xian discipleship, we cannot avoid the nonviolence of Jesus. I agree. We have been conditioned by many sources--TV, movies, children's cartoons, comics, etc--to accept redemptive violence that we cannot see any other way of interpreting our own xian redemption. Too many xians blindly accept the violent, bloody images of atonement as the only way to talk about our salvation (I disagree on this point with Hauerwas; he accepts the violent atonement but says it ends all other violence; it is untenable for me and for many).

I could prate on about such things, but suffice it to say: Stanley Hauerwas is a much needed voice for peace, nonviolence, and anti-war. Our nation is involved in 2 wars (one of them clearly an illegal war-Iraq) and the other a no-win situation (Afghanistan-3 other empires besides the U.S. empire has failed historically in this region; we cannot win there w/ conventional warfare). As xians being people of peace and nonviolence are and should be a part of our ethic and not seen as anti-American or left-wing radical. The gospel itself is radical. Hauerwas reminds us of that and of the cost of following.

Troublemakers

We tend to avoid tension, trouble, and conflict. I know I do (and in my line of work, it's not always a good thing). Church folks often play games with each other (and with clergy) in trying to deal with conflict and trouble. If we ignore it, it can fester and fume and explode later. Or if we try to confront it, we do it by talking to someone else (and thus the infamous triangle is consulted and the root of the problem is not faced). This is not always the case, but sometimes it is. I don't like conflict and trouble so my natural tendency is to avoid it, too.

When I read about Jesus it seems like he was getting into all kinds of trouble. But it is interesting to realize that the reasons he was getting into trouble were for being nice to others. He healed a woman on the Sabbath, and it pissed off some of the religious higher-ups. He healed a blind man and some folks didn't see it (literally and theologically) as a good thing. And as he continued to mingle and mix with the dregs and low-lifes of his day, he got into more trouble. This trouble eventually led to his death. It doesn't make sense . . . being snuffed out for being good and nice and accepting. Such is the lot for troublemakers throughout history--Jesus, Gandhi, MLK, Jr., women, people of color, et al. We don't quite know what to do with troublemakers so we kill them. This is true for the prophetic preachers and for criminals who we think are beyond redemption and/or restoration. So we kill them.

We religious folks can be lumped into these categories of "we" because "we" often fall into those groups of people who don't have a problem with killing troublemakers. Sometimes this is done literally (like with the death penalty in Texas) and sometimes we do it in cowardly ways (like when religious leaders stifle or squelch voices of reason and justice).

Hopefully my group of religious folks (both locally and broader) can learn to not kill troublemakers. Maybe we can learn to see them as opportunities for mercy and grace and healing. Maybe we can realize that if Jesus caused trouble for helping people, it would do us good to feel the stings of resentment and self-righteousness and alienation for doing the same.

There was a period in ministry where I was a troublemaker, and it was when I felt most alive and most at home with my convictions. Now, I tend to play it safe and not make waves. But maybe I/we need to be in those places where Jesus is still at work and still present. In those places there is trouble. I think I will go looking for trouble, and maybe trouble (or Jesus) will find me.

Pray this

This week I'm working on a text about prayer. We call it "the Lord's prayer" but it is more accurately "the model prayer." I prefer "debts/debtors" to "trespasses" because it just flows easier (not to mention King Jimmie got that one wrong). I've been trying to find just what I might say to a bunch of church folks about something many of them do on a regular (some daily) basis. I wonder how they would respond if I told them what I really think about prayer?

For a while and several years ago, I had been praying in what some might call the traditional, devotional way--get on one's knees, early in the morning, in a secluded room, and an exhaustive list of people/things to pray about. I did it this way for a few years quite consistently. I don't think the world suddenly got better from my daily practice. And then something happened: I worked a graveyard shift one summer--no more early morning/on my knees/secluded place/long-list prayers. For a while I struggled with how I might regain that practice but I never did. I felt guilty for a time, but I became a Methodist and realized that guilt was no longer necessary (or fashionable).

It dawned on me one day--and with the help of conversations, books, and the like--that I had been praying all the time, just not in the way I had before. I realized that reading was prayer (I include the daily newspaper, articles, Sports Illustrated, and just about anything). In the early '90's I found recycling to be a form of prayer. And I even think--trite as it might seem--that playing golf can be a form of prayer (after all, God's name is evoked quite often when I play!). I think the list is endless about ways or methods we can pray.

What I realized about prayer--and something I learned from the early days of on my knees--is that it is not so much about us asking God to do something for us or for others and we see the tangible results. When I pray I am changed and I am the only one that I might see change in. It is not something we do because we are commanded to do; I do it because it is a discipline and if I want to keep changing, growing and maturing I will do it.

When those followers asked Jesus in the text, "teach us to pray," I can imagine Jesus responding, "Just do what you've been doing and realize that each moment, each task, each creature, each experience is and can be sacred. Do that and you will know prayer." If Jesus actually said something like that--and maybe he did--he would have sounded very Buddhist; maybe he was and maybe I am, too. Amen.

Still growing up

Yesterday--for the first time--I directly addressed the issue of homosexuality from the pulpit. I have been at this place for two years; I figured we know each other well enough for me to speak honestly and openly (one member even thanked me for it!). I told them that I disagree with some our current UMC language that continues to exclude lesbian and gay sisters and brothers in our midst. They are our neighbors and, after all, we are called to love our neighbors . . . we don't get to choose which ones. "They" (I hesitate to even frame it like this) are also our friends, our colleagues, our parishioners and our family members. In fact, from what I read in the bible about such things, our neighbors are especially the ones who are beaten down and oppressed. I know/have known GLBTQ folks who have been beaten down--literally many of them--by good righteous folks like ourselves. We need to stop beating up our neighbors, and we need to change our Discipline language, and we need to truly see everyone as our neighbors. We need to stop playing word games with Scripture and we need to allow full inclusion in every sense of the word to all persons regardless of sexual orientation. We will all be the better for it.

I am not as active as I once was in things but preaching about this issue was scary. Previously, I hurled verbal grenades via the op/ed section of a small-town newspaper; that was easy (and quite fun). But it was different doing it in front of people and, to make matters worse, our A/C went out (as did the lights) in the chapel at the start of the service. I was literally sweating. In the end, no one seemed to be angry. I couldn't read faces well enough to know some thoughts. Hopefully my folks in this place have grown to love me enough--as I have grown to love them--and sometimes we just need to be honest with each other. I had suspected that I would eventually 'come out' on this issue (pun intended), I just didn't know when. A text about loving our neighbors seemed a good time to do it.

I think I grew up a bit more yesterday. I think I will continue to grow and mature. And hopefully we will keep working on this thing about loving our neighbors until we--all of us--will get it right, and we'll be able to "go and do likewise." Thus endeth the lesson.