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Tag: #musing

Misrepresenting the Church in Media

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I’m pretty much giving up on watching or listening to what the media claims is ‘news.’ It doesn’t matter what perspective the particular medium holds politically, socially, or economically. They all seem to be nothing more than providing scintillating gibberish in order to garner clicks or viewer. Gotta make the advertisers happy! No matter how much the stories must suffer.
And, suffer they do.
Some subjects seem to be considered “hands off.” We don’t want to offend our cash cow, er, constituent followers. This already tints the reporting. There is necessarily a bias toward any story that may make some folks uncomfortable.
That is truly devastating to people’s ability to know what’s going on. We aren’t trusted to be able to determine how an event or story will impact us. We are spoon fed the useless pablum of the current news cycle. Then we wonder why so many people miss the reality that is our life together.
One of my pet peeves, (you had to expect that there would be a peeve in here somewhere!), is how the media misrepresents the Church in the U.S. The most common misrepresentation is how the conservative evangelical church has become the action wing of the GOP. When religion and politics mix anywhere it’s a bad thing. When that happens within a reactionary political environment the outcome gets down right dangerous. Religion politicized is theocracy. Theocracy breeds things like the Inquisition. It makes the genocide of Indigenous People acceptable. Or, so says the Doctrine of Discovery. What we’re seeing in today’s world politic is the weaponization of religion in culture wars. In those, all are punished.
There is another side to this, however. One that isn’t so obvious. Yet, it is just as detrimental to the so-called sanctity of the Fifth Estate. This is how those who are progressive or liberal also use the news as political cannon fodder. They project their perception of their god onto the same social and cultural issues that there conservative sisters and brother. God is pro whatever it is that they believe holds people back from attaining their greatest potential. Of course, that potential is defined by themselves without the benefit of opinions of those who are affected by their humanitarian sensibilities.
Then, of course,there are the majority who really don’t give a damn. All they want is the weather forecast and the sports news. The rest is just something that allows them time to go to the bathroom and get a snack.
Some of you readers may wonder why I wrote this during the season of Lent. It all sounds like a rejection of turning religion into a political tool. And, it is that, to be sure. However, it’s also a call to repentance. And, repentance is kind of a key element to the Lenten season. It’s a time to reflect and introspect. During Lent we are told that from dust we come, to dust we return. Our perspective on our own importance and raison d’etre is held up to the Light of Messiah Jesus. In that light we may be able to see our folly and foibles as they are. Our politics may be important to us. But, in that bright light they may become transparent, unable to be seen at all.
When I consider this, I see God shaking the Divine Head. I’m not sure whether it’s in wonder, disbelief, or disgust. For when we put our politics and our perceptions of what’s good and important above the knowledge and love of God, well, repentance is necessary.
So, in this Lenten season I would call on the Church, big “C,” to repent. Put aside privilege and priority in order to sit and listen. Listen. Listen.
Perhaps once we shut up we will be able to actually hear God weeping.

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When Fish Rule the World

It’s Thursday. Since this is my blog I have made a Magisterial Decree that I would write something lighter than many of the other missives that I have graced the World Wide Web with.
So let it be written; So let it be done.
This morning as I was journaling, my mind drifted to something that’s been on every one’s minds. Well, maybe not the GOP. But, that’s a story for another time. That thing is the possibility of a Mass Extinction Event occurring in the not too distant future. (See, I told you it would be lighter subject matter!) What this event might look like is anyone’s guess. We can choose from Climate Change to Nuclear Devastation. There is always the possibility that a chunk of rock and ice from the outer reaches of the solar system could smash New York City. Or, just maybe the Earth herself will simply open up like she’s had enough and finish us off.
What isn’t discussed too often, though, is what might happen after such an event.
There have been 5 Mass Extinction Events over the course of the Earth’s existence. They have been caused by diverse conditions. From catastrophic climate swings to the big one that finished off the dinosaurs. That one, at the end of the Cretaceous Period, about 65 million years ago, reset the evolutionary trajectory of the world. The giants who ruled were reduced to stone and dust. Whereas, the small mammals who effectively hid, evolved into us. Pretty slick!
I wonder, though, what the next event will change. Will mammals survive? If the sun is hidden behind a layer of thick atmospheric gases, that seems unlikely. Other terrestrial critters my also find survival difficult.
What if the next evolutionary step takes place under the sea? What would the world look like at the end of another 65 million years of aquatic evolution? Rather than land based animals growing into humans again, what if our gilled and scaled friends became true Merple? A very advanced submarine life that became sentient. These creatures might learn how to control the vast currents of the oceans in ways that could control the climate around the world. Of course, by that time the land masses that we know would likely be different. The tectonic plates of the world slowly returning to some future version of Pangaea. So, the oceans would also look much different.
I know that some of you are thinking, “Wouldn’t it be more likely that the mammalian sea life that we know today would take the next step toward sentience? Not if the air breathers like dolphins and whale couldn’t continue to breathe a possibly toxic atmosphere. We must consider that.
No, I think fish make that leap.*
Now, what if two lines of evolution take place. A sea based one and a land based one. Would one serve the other? If, like I speculated, and enlightened civilization of Merple learned to control the currents, and therefore the climate, would they be regarded as gods? Creatures who could decide where the rain fell and the crops grew might be seen as divine. It wouldn’t be the first time that climate gods were worshiped.
But, we also need to consider the fact that the Merple can’t walk on land. Would that give the land-dwellers the upper hand? As we have witnessed in our run on the planet, land-dwellers can learn to travel on and under the oceans. Might that allow them to retaliate and control those in their coral castles under the water?
Or, would they learn to cooperate? The Merple helping the land-locked species by providing a suitable climate. And, the land-dwellers providing from the bounty of the land food and assistance with whatever needs the Merple might have.
I’d like to think that this would be the outcome. Species living in caring relationships knowing that they could harm the other at a moment’s notice. But, choosing not to.

*No, Q people. The reptilians don’t win. It’s the fish. Guaranteed.

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What Makes a Good Leader? Maybe Not What You Think.

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This weekend is a pretty special one for the Episcopal Diocese of Ohio. We will join together for our annual Diocesan Convention.
Yeah, sounds exciting, right? Kinda like watching paint dry.
But, it is important. We will set the agenda for the coming year as well as elect officers for various committees and such. It is truly like a big corporate meeting of stockholders.

This year, however, we will also be electing a new Bishop. Our current Bishop, The Right Reverend Mark Hollingsworth, Jr., is retiring in 2023. We will be choosing the person who will lead our diocese into the next chapter of our life together. And, in a way, we will also be actually choosing the direction of that next chapter. The person chosen will imprint her own life and character on who we are and where we go as a diocesan community.

Oh, did I mention that there are three candidates? And, they’re all women?

Not that it should matter, but in a highly patriarchal culture, electing women to the highest authority is both noteworthy and long overdue.

But, that’s not what I wanted to write about today. There are lots of others who are carrying that load.

This morning in prayer, I reflected on the choice we will make this Saturday. We’re fortunate in that all of the candidates are eminently qualified. So, in a way, we cannot lose. Whomever is elected will do an outstanding job as we move forward together.
We’re also fortunate that we have clear choices. We will not be simply choosing who our favorite is out of 3 clones. They each have different character, temperament, strengths, and opinions.

So, who to choose? If all three are great choices, does it really matter who gets the nod?

Yeah, I kinda think it does.
Let me explain…

Throughout my life following Jesus, I have been lead by men, (it’s always men, amirite?), who were alpha males and authoritarian control-freaks. They ran our church(es) with iron hands and would not entertain any questions to their decisions. After all, wasn’t Jesus the Lord over His disciples? Didn’t Paul and Peter and James hold the early church to strict adherence to their rule? These men made sure that their idea of what being a christian was enforced as the ‘Only Way to be a True Christian.’ Any deviation was met with swift rebuke.

However, for the last few years I’ve experienced a different sort of leadership. I’ve been blessed to work with a person who seems to trust God with much of what we do. He has been a pastor and shepherd, to be sure. But, he hasn’t told us how we sheep should chew our grass. For the first time in my life in Jesus, I think that I’m experiencing what some call Servant Leadership. While he knows clearly and accepts his position and responsibility, he also seems to understand, when the people are doing well and are happy, so is the church. And, so is his job, I’m sure.

The reason I mention this at all is because that is the choice we have this weekend. While all three candidates are good ones, only one has revealed a Servant’s heart. The other two will certainly be good. Much will get done in the diocese. Many very good things.
But, only one, I think, will bring life to the position. Life that she will share with all of us who live and work in our churches.

I, for one, know where my choice lies.

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A Stroll on the Lake

I don’t usually write much on Sunday. I take that whole day of rest thing pretty seriously. Mostly, just because I need it! I stay pretty busy during the week. So, when Sunday comes along I try to kick back and enjoy it. I find it good for my body and mind.
Today, however, I want to share something simple that came to mind this A.M.
The Gospel lection for today was from the Gospel According to Matthew. The selection was from the story just after Jesus had fed a huge crowd of people with only a few fish and a couple of loaves of bread. It goes:

22 Immediately he made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. 23 And after he had dismissed the crowds, he went up the mountain by himself to pray. When evening came, he was there alone, 24 but by this time the boat, battered by the waves, was far from the land, for the wind was against them. 25 And early in the morning he came walking toward them on the sea. 26 But when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified, saying, “It is a ghost!” And they cried out in fear. 27 But immediately Jesus spoke to them and said, “Take heart, it is I; do not be afraid.”
28 Peter answered him, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” 29 He said, “Come.” So Peter got out of the boat, started walking on the water, and came toward Jesus. 30 But when he noticed the strong wind, he became frightened, and beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!” 31 Jesus immediately reached out his hand and caught him, saying to him, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?” 32 When they got into the boat, the wind ceased. 33 And those in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.”

The Holy Bible: New Revised Standard Version. (1989). (Mt 14:22–33). Nashville: Thomas Nelson Publishers.

Now, I’ve read this passage and heard preachers talk about it far too many times to recount. They talk about how life is like the storm that Jesus can calm. Some really bad songs have been sung about that. These folks like to talk about how Pete would have been just fine if he had just “kept his eyes on Jesus” rather than allowing himself to be distracted by the wind and waves. There are the classic ones that speak to Pete’s lack of faith. “We must not lose faith like Peter did!” they say.

These are all well and good. There is a whole lot packed into these few verses. And, all of those options for sermon material, and much more, are viable.

There is one thing hidden in there that I had never noticed before. And, like I said, I’ve heard and seen a lot in this passage over the years.
When I was in seminary I had a professor who introduced me to a certain way of reading the Greek text. No, I’m not going to give you a Greek lesson. But, I think this is kind of neat for getting a handle on the above passage. While studying Paul’s Letter to the Church at Rome we came to a verse that is traditionally translated, “Faith in Jesus.” A believer must have faith in Jesus in order to be saved. Simple. All of the old theologians and Bible folks agree on that.
I learned, however, that because of the way Greek works, there is another way to read these texts. This way would render the translation, Faith of Jesus.”
See the difference? In one, Jesus is the Object of our faith. In the other, Jesus is the subject of faith.
Another way to read it would be that we are saved by the “Faithfulness” of Jesus.

When I learned that my eyes lit up! I’m sure that everyone in the class could see that giant light bulb pop on above my head! Suddenly, so much clarity came to me that I just sat there with my teeth in my mouth and my bare face hanging out.

So, this morning as I listened to our Priest’s homily on the above text that light bulb went off again. This time it was an LED, not incandescent.
I saw Peter step out of the boat. I imagine him thinking that if Jesus can do this, so can I. Lo and behold! It worked! He stood on the water!
Then, he lost it and began to sink.
He cried out, “Lord, save me!”

Jesus immediately reached out an caught him. They got into the boat and the weather became calm.

Did ya see what happened there?

Peter lost sight of Jesus and floundered. Jesus reached to him and lifted him up.
Jesus saved him.
This had nothing to do with Pete’s faith in Jesus. I imagine the only thing that Pete was thinking about was not drowning. In total panic mode I doubt that he stopped to think, “Ok, ok…I believe, I believe, I believe!”
No, he was probably think, “Oh My God! I’m gonna die right now!”

Jesus lifted Peter out of the water because Jesus had faith.
Not Pete.
It was the Faith of Jesus that saved Peter that day.
And, it’s that same Faith of Jesus that still saves today.

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The Virus in Our Midst

Yesterday I read a piece by Andrew Sullivan over at “The Weekly Dish.” In it he offered thoughtful consideration on the Corona virus and the effects Covid-19 is having on society. He particularly developed how the pandemic is contributing to the political chaos that we experience every day in the U.S. It is an interesting read for people who don’t think that overly simplistic answers are sufficient about wearing a mask or not. Or, social distancing and all of the complications that this virus has caused.
One of his points struck me.
He wrote how pandemics do cause effects on culture much as they do on individuals. Granted, not all pandemics are the result of viruses. The most famous ‘plague’ was the Black Death in Europe in the 14th century. That outbreak killed millions and was the result of a bacterium called Yersinia pestis. Not a virus. But, a nasty bug none the less.
In our world today the virus called SARS-CoV-2 is what is wreaking havoc. This virus is that causes the infection we know as” novel corona virus-2019”, or Covid-19.
Viruses are called by many “submicroscopic infectious agents.” They aren’t really a viable living organism because they require a host in which to grow and thrive. In this way they appear parasitic. They infect a host where the virus works its way into the machinery of the host at a cellular level. Once inside the cell, a virus will “highjack” various parts of the cell in order to replicate itself.
Over and over and over again.
Viruses may then produce toxins that overpower a host and cause serious illness or death.
As I considered Sullivan’s piece and looked around at much of what’s going on in the U.S. and the world, I began to see similarities between how a virus infects a living host and how it also “infects” society.
We are witnessing upticks in violence and unrest that are becoming epidemic. Shootings and other violent behavior have escalated to the point that local governments and law enforcement are requesting outside assistance. The lawlessness that we see as people disregard mandates designed to protect people from exposure to the corona virus is rampant as people are tired of being told what to do. They are like sick children who refuse the very medication that may cure their illness. The political turbulence is rising like foam on a polluted river. It is sure evidence that there is something desperately sick happening beneath the surface. We are a culture that has contracted a deadly pathogen that is unaware that it is killing its host. And, the pathogen doesn’t care.
It can only replicate itself.
That is its sole purpose.
Make more of ‘Me.’
It’s no surprise, then, that the most insidious symptom of this virus on culture is that it cares only for itself. It does not care on whit about anyone else.
“It’s all about ME!” has become the outward manifestation of this virus.
“You can’t tell ME what to do!”
“I have RIGHTS!”
Yeah, maybe true.
Our culture is the host for this virus.
Life together is how we maintain our own lives and livelihoods.
If this virus is successful, well, the culture dies.
That’s not a very positive prognosis. But, it is the direction that we may be headed.
Corona virus has revealed our vulnerabilities and weakness as a culture. It has caused us to retract into shells that purport protection. This protection is false.
It is only when, or ‘If,’ we can come together and unite in order to fight the effects of this Cultural Contagion that we may see its cure.
We surely must not remain silent as barriers that the culture have meticulously been raised against selfishness, hate, violence, and destruction are ripped down by the toxins that this virus has released on us.
Yet, we must remain vigilant to speak and act and be proactive in ways that encourage dialog and healing and mutual respect.
So, do we accept the treatment?
Or, do we watch our breath slowly ebb away until there is nothing on the mirror but dust?

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Musing on a Wednesday_7/29/2020

Yesterday was nice.
My wife and I took the day for a long drive. We found our way past detours and along county roads until we arrived in Loudonville, OH. Loudonville is a small town of around 3,000 people. It seems that the main industry is tourism. Every half mile or so there is another sign for this campground or those cabins. There are, perhaps, more canoe liveries per capita than any other place in the country. People, especially young people, travel from all over the area to canoe, tube, kayak, or raft down the Mohican River.
We went, besides for the ride, to check out a place that rents tree houses. My wife and daughter are big fans of anything HGTV. Apparently, one of the features on that network is some guy who builds tree houses that contain all of the amenities of home. He built 2 of the tree houses at this particular place. So, of course, we had to check it out! (yawn…)
It’s not that I don’t like the idea of taking a mini-vacation and staying in a tree house. Especially one that compares favorably to any hotel room. It’s that I really, really don’t like anything about HGTV or any of those home improvement networks. I mean, like, really.
After we saw those and decided that we will probably try to get down there for a stay this fall, we turned the nose of the car East. We drove along State Rt. 39 through the fertile farming country of Ashland, Wayne, and Holmes counties. Passing the towns of Nashville and Millersburg we came to what is commonly called “Amish Country.” There we stopped and bought some cheese. (Of course, that’s a necessary stop anytime we’re there. The cheese in the area is outstanding!) Eventually, we came to the little burg of Walnut Creek. There is a restaurant there that we try to stop at whenever we go down there.
As with most businesses in that area, there is a bookstand near the checkout. The stand contains all kinds of books about the faith of the Mennonites and the Amish of the area. If you want to learn about Amish prayers or read about the faith adventures of some hero of the faith, well, this is your chance.
For me, however, yesterday shined a spotlight on something that has been on my mind lately.
If you’ve followed some of what I’ve shared on this blog recently, you know that I have been studying and sharing the First Letter that Paul wrote to the Church at Corinth. One of the issues that Paul purposed to address in the letter was that of divisions and factions that had driven a wedge between the members of the young church. For Paul, this was unacceptable. His desire for all of the churches that he related to was for unity and to see them built up in the faith. Schisms and fractures were ‘fleshly’ things that could not be tolerated in Spirit-filled relationships.
The reason I bring this up is, as we drove throughout this very conservative and religious area there were dozens and dozens of churches of various denominations and confessions. There were, of course, the ubiquitous United Methodists. They appear like dandelions in my yard. They’re everywhere! The Mennonite and the ‘Amish Mennonite’ churches may also be found aplenty. There are Church of the Brethren, not to be confused with the Brethren Church, there are Presbyterians, and a myriad of non-denominational churched. These range in size from little storefront churches to the gargantuan campus of Grace Church in Wooster.
As I reflected on this, I was seized by sadness. Not because Jesus was not proclaimed in a way that I could personally relate to. Nor, because I have any huge problem with any of these groups.
No.
I was saddened because of the number of different groups.
Each represented to me a division, a schism, a ‘my way or the highway’ reaction that has broken the body of Christ.
I understand that the image of that body necessitates differences. After all, not all can be an eye or an ear or a big toe. There are different gifts that are important for the health and growth of the Body.
But, this denominationalism and factionalism is something entirely different. While some may agree on, let’s say, Piety like the Methodists and Nazarenes and most of those anabaptist churches I mentioned, there are distinctions that allow members of One to say to members of Another, “Well, WE do it this way!”
Or, “We believe that Communion should be this way or that.” Or, “we baptize THIS way! Your way is not right!”
That’s not evidence of a single Body with many gifts.
That’s more like several different bodies.
I know. I’m splitting hairs and being a crotchety old man.
But, that doesn’t make my take on this any easier.

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Ah, Those Were The Days!!

Multi-Deck Flying Saucer ca. 1963

I remember…
Memory is a funny thing. It lives somewhere in the mind alongside colors and taste and imagination.
When I was a kid, my friends and I would spend hours drawing flying saucers. In the early 1960s science fiction was a growing genre that was sprinkled like so much fairy dust on our growing and developing little gray cells. We drew them just like they were portrayed on T.V. and in the movies. One long, narrow oval with a small dome on top.
Think of the original “The Day the Earth Stood Still.” How cool was Gort! We all wanted him as a friend.
“Mom! Can I stay up and watch T.V.?”
“No, Honey. It’s time for bed.”
“Gort! Go get her!”
Oh, yeah, I coulda used a buddy like that!

That’s how memory works.
Our minds are imprinted with information from every minute of every hour of every day of our lives. All of that information is retrievable.
But, none of it can help us to actually relive that time.
We cannot go back to that place.
The colors and smells and Feelings we experienced are backed-up on hard drives of flesh that reside within a thin layer of bone and fluid.

We like to think that memory is 20/20.
That those images and other sensory data that was stored within the folds of our minds is infallible is one of the fallacies that those same minds produce.
No one’s memory is infallible.
I think that even people with perfect recall, those who have what’s called a ‘photographic’ or long-term eidetic memory may see images or recall data. But, the ability to truly relive any given moment in time by remembering it doesn’t really exist. At least not for us mere mortals.

If true and complete memory does not exist, what about something like Nostalgia?

We all have moments when we glance back into our history and feel a touch, a longing for the ‘Good Ol’ Days.’ Don’t deny it! You do, too!
For a lot of folks these feelings create warm and fuzzy feelings. That’s what nostalgia does. Particularly, when society and culture are in flux.
I think back to my youth in the 60s when Civil Rights, the Viet Nam war,and Feminism were in the news cycle daily. My Dad and his friends longed for the days of Eisenhower when houses with white picket fences surrounded gardens of bright flowers and there was an apple pie cooling on the kitchen window. It so much better then! There wasn’t any of this demonstrating or riots or uppity Women.

Nostalgia.

One scholar, Svetlana Boym, quoted in https://thewayofimprovement.com/2020/07/22/nostalgia-for-a-past-that-never-existed/
wrote, “inevitably reappears as a defense mechanism in a time of accelerated rhythms of life and historical upheavals.”
With that in mind, we can think of Nostalgia kind of as a fear response to progress.
Progress = Change and
Change = ???
I think that we human critters are by nature afraid of change.
At least, it takes an effort to make a leap and embrace it.

Why mention all of this?
Yesterday I wrote a rather scathing piece about White Evangelicalism and politics.
Both groups that I accused of being in bed together are steeped in, c’mon you can guess!
Yep!
Nostalgia!

I don’t want to over-simplify a very complex issue involving feelings and memories and life experience.
However, if we even Could turn back time and flip all of those calendar pages back, we wouldn’t find that idyllic streetscape with all of the flowers and birds and dogs yapping gaily around us. We wouldn’t find Mr. & Mrs. Cleaver in their suit and dress with impeccable hair.
We would find reality.
A place where bullies roamed the schoolyard and bosses assaulted their secretaries.
We would find grit in our eyes from the nearby coal-fired power plants and the newspapers and T.V. news would reveal the dark underbelly of business and politics.

There is no going back.

Period.

Society and culture move forward to some as yet unknown vista.

With the support of family, friends, benevolence, and most of all Love we must look past the Past and, together, embrace God’s future.

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Religious Right: Hangin’ With Hookers

From Chicken Little: Fish out of water.

Sometimes I feel like that proverbial “Fish Out Of Water.”
Most of my vision and attention is on Christianity, specifically the Bible, and how it intersects with culture and church.
So much damage has been done to people because of the weaponization of both theology and Biblical study.
How many LGBT young people have been shunned by family and community as so-called religious leaders use the Scripture as a bludgeon to hammer these young folks like a blacksmith shaping iron?
“Hey, you Pious Pricks! These are humans made in the Image of God! Not something that you may objectify and form into your own likeness in the way that you have molded your god!”

Yet, sometimes I’m drawn out of the world of religion and into the world where people actually live and breathe. Hell, many of us argue that this ‘real world’ is the only place that religion is able to find its true footing. After all, Yahweh came and pitched God’s tent right here on Terra Firma in order to prove Divine Love for the Cosmos. When you think about that, it’s pretty amazing!

Today is one of those days that I find myself drawn into the world where faith and praxis intersect with culture. I am committed to trying to shine the Light of God and Faith into the darker recesses of our humanity. Places where injustice and oppression find themselves attempting to grow in God’s Garden like weeds and thistles.
(As an aside, I have been waging war on real thistles in my yard and garden. These intrusive weeds are ubiquitous to our area and are damned hard to kill. We have finally found a treatment for them. But, it requires cutting each individual plant and ‘painting’ the curative on the newly cut stem. Time consuming for sure. A pain in the back? Yep! But, it is effective. I’ve noticed a huge reduction in new sprouts. Maybe, just maybe, I can win this battle!)
That image is really quite relevant to the growth of weeds in the church at large. And, White Evangelicalism in particular.
Since the early 1980s when people like Jerry Falwell, Sr., Jim Dobson, Kenneth Copeland, Jimmy Swaggart, Jim & Tammy Faye Bakker, and others christened the so-called ‘Moral Majority’ and began to tout their brand of christianity there has been a decided shift in the winds of politics.
White Evangelicalism seemed to be drawn inexorably into the maelstrom of power. Since so much of their dogma was relegated to the outbox of relevancy, they chose to fire weapons of faith at their newly created Culture Wars.
In actuality, it wasn’t all that new. Religious powers had tried to enforce their particular brands of culture and morality on the world for pretty much Ever.
In the 1980s, however, their reach, or overreach, hit the airways of mass communication.
In a way that was good. It gave the wider world a chance to see the immoral power struggles that embraced religion in real time.
It was also, however, a means to ‘rally the troops.’ These conservative religious people sounded the clarion call to alert everyone that the world was on fire with atheists and communists and all sorts of mean & hateful people who were going to eat babies and wreak havoc on Mom, apple pie, and the ‘murican way!
Heaven have Mercy on us all!

What actually happened, though, was not a rescue mission to save the culture. It was not, in fact, even a religious call to repentance and faith.
The primarily White, conservative, Evangelical church became the de facto religious wing of the Republican party.
They traded their birthright, and absolutely abdicated any claim to the moral high ground, for a bowl of oatmeal.

The apostle Paul wrote, (you really didn’t think that I could resist bringing the Bible into this, did you?), a lot about how faith and culture should interact.
One image that I found while studying Paul is that of a person paying for sex with a prostitute. Paul was NOT writing to people who weren’t part of the Church. He wrote specifically to those who claimed to follow Jesus. And, while he was writing about a person actually interacting with a prostitute, the image, I think, bears on what is happening in the world of White Evangelicalism.
Paul wrote, “Don’t you know that whoever is united to a prostitute becomes one body with her? For it is said, ‘The two shall be one flesh’” (1 Cor. 6, NRSV).

I want to be clear that I believe that conservative religious people, particularly White Evangelicals, have climbed into bed with conservative politics, especially the Republican Party, and have engaged in relationships that have made you One Flesh with them.
How far can you fall before you reach the bottom?

I adjure you to consider the position that you are in. It’s precarious to say the least.
God is NOT for or against any political party or position.
God seeks the fruit of truth and justice.
All other fruit is tasteless and rotten.

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Friday Musing_7/17/2020

I used to wonder why, if God desired love and justice in the world, why were we church folks only concerned about what happened after we left the world.
I know, it seems like a silly question. But, that’s exactly how many people who say that they follow Jesus think.
The rationale was that saving people from eternal, conscious torment was more important than providing for a good education or a leg up in the world.
If you ask many churchy people, they will say, “Well, duh! Of course eternity is of greater value than an education that will ultimately pass away!”
And, from within that religious bubble, that’s hard to argue with.

But, what if, as I’ve argued before, there is no Hell where people are toasted for eternity?

The African American Church can guide us here.
Born out of the true Hell of chattel slavery, they found a way to embrace the God of their captors. They found hope and love within the very same Bible that those who held the chains of their bondage.

For them, however, God was not a pious white man on a gleaming throne away off in some heaven. The streets of which mere mortals could never tread. The white god of those who imprisoned their bodies was only interested in keeping things the way that the white people always wanted them. That god sanctioned slavery. The white god cursed all who were NOT white. “The sin of Ham caused all of his seed to be dark and cursed,” this god exclaimed!

No. The God that the African Americans found was a God who walked with them in the fields as the chopped cotton or hoed the rows of tobacco. The God they knew promised to lead them from the bondage of slavery just as this same God rescued the Children of Israel all those many years ago.
They KNEW God as their friend, benefactor, and ultimately, their deliverer.

And, they have never forgotten that God.

Suffering was reality. Pain constant.
Yet, Jesus had come to this world to put an end to suffering.
His death and resurrection was the final act of redemption that rejected suffering as the way that life must be. As one writer put it,

“Through the Suffering Servant, God has spoken against evil and injustice. The empty cross and tomb are symbols of the victory.”

[Townes, Emilie M., A Trioubling in My Soul: Womanist Perspectives on Evil & Suffering, Emilie M. Townes, ed., Maryknoll, NY, 1993, p.84.]

With this hope in their hearts, God was the Agent of Transformation where justice and hope were not some pie in the sky dream. These things became the real, tangible call for all who would put their hand to the plow of Faith.

Yet, the White church continued to hold up their Bibles and cry, “Foul! We must obey what the Word of God says! Slaves, obey your masters!”

How far from the mark of God’s Glory were they!!!
The White church abdicated its responsibility to be light and salt in the world in order to fill their barns with the bounty of the harvest.
And, like in that story Jesus told, God said,

“You fool! This very night your soul is required of you; and now who will own what you have prepared?”

[New American Standard Bible: 1995 update. (1995). (Lk 12:20). La Habra, CA: The Lockman Foundation.]

Emilie Townes wrote

“Obedience that is blind to the world and only follows directions has divested itself of all responsibility for what it is commanded to do.”

[Townes, Emilie M., A Trioubling in My Soul: Womanist Perspectives on Evil & Suffering, Emilie M. Townes, ed., Maryknoll, NY, 1993, p.87.]

That blind obedience to ancient texts taken out of context and applied with an iron and unbending arm is what has happened, and continues to happen, in so, so many white churches.

It is past time to awaken the Church. Until we heed God’s call to provide justice to the poor, the widow, the foreigner, and all marginalized people we have no right to say that we are fully and truly disciples of Jesus.

We just can’t.

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Un-Fathered

Unseen vistas reveal themselves with every step I take into the world of God. I have walked the oft-trodden, yet rarely observed paths of the Spirit as She blows through the brilliant flowers, trees, and grasses that form the lines of the Scriptures.
It seems that the more I observe and marvel at, more and more beauty and grace appear.

This is not to say that the paths that the Breath of God leads me along are always pleasant for me. No, sometimes I am stung by some insect that follows me. Buzzing in my ear, brushing against my hair and skin, it is a reminder that the paths we walk are still real and within the bounds of this present life.
I read in those ancient texts stories of people who, like me, worried their way along these same pathways. They were led by the same Spirit. Perhaps, they were even stung by that same bothersome insect.
And, while their time and place are foreign to me, I can still feel what they felt and sense what they sensed.
We are, after all, born of the same stuff.

That’s why the text that we looked at last Sunday in the Bible study at St. Barnabas became alive to me in a brand, new way. There was a new vista revealed as I crested the hill.

We have spent the last several weeks working our way through the first 4 chapters of St. Paul’s first letter to the Church at Corinth. Paul wrote that he had been made aware of divisions and factions that had broken along the fault lines of honor and shame. The folks there seemed to find their own sense of honor and worth by casting their lots with one apostle over against another. This one follows Paul; the other Apollos. Paul would have none of that and wrote that the system they used to measure worth was deeply flawed. Through example, irony, and metaphor he urged them to seek the One True Measure which is God through Christ. If the folks at Corinth desired true Wisdom, they need look no further than the Cross of Christ. That, alone, exemplified God’s Wisdom.

In chapter 4, Paul seems to shame the people in that young Church. He pointedly revealed the foolishness of the path that they were taking.
But, he switched gears and told them,

“I am not writing this to shame you, but to warn you as my dear children.”
He continued,
“I became your father through the gospel.”

There it was!
A new sun rising above the horizon of my limited understanding.
Paul wrote this letter, not to wield a rod of correction. It was not so that he expound some great, spiritual truth to them. It wasn’t even really to cajole them into following his instructions.

It was to remind them that he was their father in the faith.

The folks in Corinth had Un-Fathered Paul.

And, that was the cause of much of his pain and concern.

I was reminded, then, of another story like this.
In the Gospel According to Luke the writer related a story about a father and his two sons.
This story is commonly referred to as the story of the Prodigal Son, although the Father is the main character.
The story begins with the younger of the two sons going to his father and requesting his inheritance. This may not appear all that big of a deal to those of us inhabiting the 21st century. However, at the time this story was told, that request would have been scandalous. What we miss is that the request was, in fact, the younger son’s wish that the father was dead so that he could take what he deemed was his.

“Father, I want my inheritance!”

To that the father could reply,

“When I die you will receive it!”
“No, Father, I want it NOW! For, you are dead to me”

That’s how this story would have been heard by those Jesus told it to.
How much this reveals about the Father’s love later in the story!
But, that’s a story that must wait for another time.

The younger son un-Fathered his own father.
He wished that his father HAD died.
His only concern was his own life and desires.

I saw this story brightly reflected in Paul’s response to his Children in the Faith.
I could feel his sense of loss and betrayal.
I could understand his heart as he tried to reveal the potential danger that these children of his were running toward.
“Stop! Wait! There’s a cliff there and you’re about to run off of the edge!”

For those who have experienced the pain of this type of loss, I don’t need to explain it.
For those who haven’t, well, let’s all just hope and pray that you never do.
It is pain above any other. Especially, because of the helplessness that is alive and biting, boring into the heart and soul.
Yeah, I get what Paul was doing here.
He was simply being a loving father to those who owned a piece of his heart.

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