It is really quite a Lame duck - Ohio at its worst

Last week I was standing on the steps of the statehouse listening to words of hope in a time when I see that a minority has more say in our lives than the majority. It is a time when a few are able to install - as truth - a lie. When this cracked system is allowed to codified as the rule of the day - a lie, the majority is raped. That may be a strong image, but as history shows us, women - the majority - face the fear-filled power of men that cannot stand up to the nurturing and life-giving power of women. Men attempting to exercise an exaggerated masculinity - a possessive machismo - do so at the expense of turning their backs on the image of God into which we are all created. For without a respectful, loving, and equal commitment to the welfare of the other, the image of God is left concealed.

I use God language here because those folks who want to command control over the life choices of women have become masters at using the violence of religious words and images to design their kind of a world. It is my contention that this world they seek to create is not at all a reflection of God's reign of peace and justice that brings hopefulness to all and healing without partiality. I have read through the pamphlets folks attempt to hand out to people arriving for care at the Planned Parenthood clinic where I volunteer as an escort. I find their picking and pecking of scripture to be masterful. They attempt to sew together words of love and words of utter condemnation as though love and condemnation belong tightly wrapped together. It is a lie that has a long history among religious folk. Their notion of love, though, is not love at all. For it thrives on punishment, threat, shame, guilt, and the never-ending story that demands that you must have the correct ticket to ride - or to hell with you.

I find it confounding that those who like to take command of heaven and hell and act as the self-empowered stewards of those domains are only able to do one thing - embody a living hell that they attempt to make the mandatory way all people are to live. When folks play the game of heaven and hell, a hellish life wins the day. Oh, that life is painted as an orderly and controlled way to bring about a world of love, but, unfortunately, hell is the controlling power. When that power controls the day, there will be no creative love - there will be no conversation - there will be no give-and-take - there will be no room for forgiveness - there will be no kindness without limits. There will only be a pride-filled gathering of self-righteous folk who thrive on claiming to have the power to condemn others. What a hell of a place to be. Promises of a reign of peace and love are hung out to dry and die in order to keep the hellishness of fear in power.

As I was standing on those stairs I thought, 'What would a follower of Jesus be doing here when fear attempts to reign and condemnation seeks to control the day through laws of the state? I think they would listen to those being condemned and lean in to hear every story and hold the hands of the meek and honor the boldness of those who do not fade in the face of threats and stand in awe of those who persist to make shalom reign and resist the hellishness that comes during a time that is rightly labeled - lame duck.
TRRR

The character needed to be a real character

It is important for all folks to stop asking Will it affect me?' or How will it affect me? as a way of gaging how or if we will stand with and alongside others as we take our place in the ever-present task of making the world/neighborhood/city/country a better place for all. Rather, it would do us well to consider how we will be a part of a life that works and stands and lives for all. That demands that we avail ourselves to those who are not us. It means we do not shy away from people with whom we have no similarity or connection - even those we fear and despise.

I have been reading some bits of history (rare for me) and listening to podcasts that focus around the character of some of the folks in our country who stood within the circles of the great ones. It is so interesting to hear that they could be buttholes like any of us. Some had their biases. Some lived within lives of privilege. Some were self-consumed and unable to empathize with those unlike them. But then, they were moved to see that which was other than the life they had and wanted - and they saw the worth of those others - the value of their lives as part of the whole of us. They had the ability to live with a vision in which the concept of One Nation - indivisible - was a vision into which they knew they had to move their lives. There could not be an us and a them if we were to be this people who some folks called blessed. It is important to note that differences may exist and they must exist if we are to continue to grow and be transformed - blessed.

Now, for me, being blessed is not magical term. It is not a greeting or a send off. It is a character. So for me, blessed is not a religious term. It is a term full of vision. It is the shape of what is possible when people of character actualized the fullness of a humanity that leans into the well-being of all - and those people of character also understand the importance of all. A blessed community or a blessed country or a blessed family is one in which walls and borders and well-drawn lines are dropped so as to allow the blessed to side with those folks who may be unknown - strangers - outsiders. A community of character is made up of a community of characters - odd balls - who will become available to others without making their every move and decision on the basis of how their actions will benefit them first. We are blessed - we are characters - when there are needs and we step in to fill them - without a payback. We are blessed  - we are characters - who see how others unlike us are still a part of a greater us. We are blessed - we are characters - who step into and expect to step through our fears no matter how those fears are made to sound and look as though they are a real threat. We are blessed - we are characters - who let go of the need to defeat the other but wonder about the ways we can be a reconciling power with them.

I wonder what it would be like to live in the middle of a community of characters. As All Saints Day approaches, I was thinking of Bishop Oscar Romero. Had he not become a real character and simply stood by and with the powers of the day, he would have never seen the majority of people in El Salvador who were poor - who would become his teachers - who would inspire his day-to-day actions and enrich him with a vision for life rather than coins put in the coffer of the cathedral. Characters cannot be erased - though some folks find it necessary to try and do just that. Characters - the blessed - persistently open doors and reach across lines and risk touching and standing alongside the likes of them and those - and then, quite miraculously, their character changes - it is transformed - they expand how they characterized themselves. They now become a part of a universal character - a blessed mess of folk - who no longer go to war with that which they fear but are able to give their lives for the well-being of those they fear so that a new creation will begin to be exposed right in the middle of all the stuff we may consider the shit-of-the-day.

How will we become the characters that disrupt the flow of the day? How will we bless the day by being people who walk within the vision of life that humbles itself and therefore opens us up to be those strange characters who welcome the world of other characters we have yet to experience? So, look for characters - look for the odd-balls who seem to be willing to give life to others without any reward - look for lost souls who may be the ones who surprise us by helping us build and shape and give life to us. Ah, blessed are you.
TRRR

Beware: we often make the monsters that try to devour us

So, I must admit, I write in my books - extensively. I know it is not right on so many levels - but I cannot help myself. Don't worry, if you lend me one of your books I will not write in the margins or underline stuff along the way. That would just be wrong. Since I have turned to Kindle for some of my reading, there is no fear of me marking things up - no margin notes - no comments - no political or biblical or theological points and counter-points. I go back into those books I mark up in order to find quotes that disturb and those that inspire. My book reading memory is one that places points of interest on the page. So if I remember that there was a really inspiring or troubling piece in a book, I usually am able to flip through the pages looking for - let's say - something on the bottom of a page on the right. It doesn't always work.

I also take notes as I read. This is especially the case if I know that I will be using the material as an important go to on certain subjects. Most often it is when I think a theological point or a biblical reference used in a unique way will help me deal with something in the social, cultural, or political world around me.

So, here's what happened today. I was listening to several people discuss the Cruz/O'Rourke senatorial race in Texas. One of the people on the panel referenced the Trumpian insults thrown at Cruz during the 2016 presidential election. They were awful - remember? Trump's personal attacks on appearances and rumors and caricatures were called out by Cruz as being disgusting and cheap and unfit for someone running for president. In that day, these two republican candidates looked as though there would never be any reason for them to entertain the other's company - let alone share the same stage - ever. But, then we are in a new election cycle and it appears as though Cruz is not a sure bet to remain as a senator from Texas. Even the thought of him winning by a slim margin has created a degree of fear and trembling from the Cruz campaign and that of the national Republican party. All that anxiety over a possible defeat is quite normal. Many politicians on both sides are going through some of that in these day prior to the midterm elections.

Yet, in the midst of this situation of fear and trembling, there has been an erasure of differences. It has been happening ever since the 2016 election of President Trump. The bitter, biting warfare between Trump and Cruz that raged as they both sought out the office of the President, has been put aside. No reconciliation. No repentance. No agreement on truthfulness. Their differences have been put aside as their mutual desire for political self gain can be reached - it is as simple as that. As one writer noticed, their desire has reached a crisis stage. Now, here is the quote that has ignited my rant today: distinctions are blurred - human identities melt together - and, monsters appear. When that happens (and it happens on all sides of our culture/politics/religions) the powers that cluster together and form their bonds do so in order to preside over a sacrifice - a lynching - a way to win the day and make sure it is done at any cost. Therefore, values fall to the side - decency descends into the abyss - hope is abandoned for the order of the day even when it is fueled by fear. Rather than look to our better angels, we settle for our common demons that are able to infect us so that we do not seek justice, honor truthfulness, and work for the well-being of all.

When monsters appear, the least among us are devoured. Those of wealth and influence and power need not fear - monsters align with such people - monsters are controlled by such people - monsters give birth to such people - monsters are the incarnation of such people who must devour others in order to keep themselves alive and well.

In an anxious time when the voices of threat and humiliation and degradation and untruth become the pattern of the day, there are always signs of hopefulness. There are people who step up and laugh at the monsters. There are those who point out that the monsters have no clothes. There are those who insist on truth-telling even when monsters call them lies. There are people who speak and act off-script so that monstrous acts are exposed. There are people whose vulnerability gives a witness to the life where monsters have no power. Remember, monsters do not exist - unless we let them. That is why a parent will accompany a child and open the closet door or check under the bed or go into the dark basement. Monsters need darkness to be able to get away with murder. Unfortunately, monsters often create the darkness that helps them thrive. Yet, I rant.
TRRR

The Lynch Mob always starts with Voices before Actions

If a group of people act out in non-violent ways, is that group a mob? I tend to associate a mob with stuff getting broken - damaged - destroyed. When I think of a mob, I think of a group that whips up chaos. This is not the chaos that often accompanies change or the creation of something new. The chaos that comes out of acts of creativity is temporary because it is moving into something new - a new creation of sorts. Just think of a new team that has just come together to play ball together. At first, no matter how good the players are, there will be some chaos until all the variously gifted players engage in a give-and-take that helps produce a unit that can and does work together. We will begin to see a sense of order or, better yet, relationships that honor the others in a respectable manner.

A mob whips up the kind of chaos that attempts to rule by force - force directed at  others - forced used for ones own well being - force that will try to destroy that which is different or that which simply appears different. The mob will turn to violence in order to have the world be as they would like it to be. The violence will be directed toward those and them - outsiders. Now it may appear that I am merely talking about physical violence that is perpetrated against the other. Not. The language of the mob seeks to destroy or harm or discount the life of the other - in some way. I immediately thought of the mob that yelled out 'crucify him' before anyone even picked up the spikes and the cross beam for the lynching of Jesus. Eventually, a mob uses words to create an atmosphere within a group that is able to move the mob to acts of violence that bring their words to life.

When I think of a mob taking shape, my anxiety level increases. It is so easy to sense that something is about to happen and it is not a celebration of life. Rather, the mob will not and cannot coexist with the life of others - those who are different from the direction they want to go. There is no ability to call for acts of reconciliation. Even dialogue, that may be the gift needed to create mutual respect, is taken off the table. We are left with curses - threats - insults - ridicule - foul language. Having said all this, there is still no physical violence that is associated with a mob. But just wait. There can be a deliberate act of violence - something small. There can be an act of mistaken identity. There can be a word - a label - a trigger that is pulled. Then, the mob morphs into that which we know as a classic picture of how a mob begins to rule the moment. We all know some of those characteristics - they are constructed from fear and envy and desire that is willing to turn the moment into warring madness.

As of late, I have been shaken to a greater degree by the language of our President. He looked at the many women and men who protested around the hearings of now Justice Kavanaugh. He has freely used the word mob to describe them. But not just that. He now uses mob to describe those people who may hold a contrary view to his side. He even demonizes the media as the ones who stoke the fire of this mob to which he refers  There are so many other ways to address or describe those who do not go along with our choices and opinions. To call them a mob is to pull back the hammer of a gun and make it easier for someone to pull the trigger and fire. He is setting the stage for violence to be nurtured and more accessible. It is a quite, brilliant move. The violence of those who are not included in his branding of a mob will be considered a violence that is righteous and good and a saving power. Saving America from those not like us becomes a tribal cry for a limited view of reality. In the past few weeks we have moved away from those people being people of a different race or culture or religion or gender to also include those  people who do not go along with his plans. There have been many historical examples of such verbal condemnations that have led to a variety of lynch mobs allowed to express their violence as they please.

Along the way, we must remember that there really are mobs that form and know no other way to be involved with the society than to take parts in acts of violence. When the President calls one group a mob and he is citing their peaceful protests as examples of mob behavior, it takes very little to tie the acts of violence of a group like Antifa to the many and massive expressions of peaceable protests. That is disturbing. I have heard people say that the protests against this Trump era are fueled and backed by acts of violence - even if it is not backed by facts. With great awe and respect, I look to the teens of Parkland and the women of the Women's March and the people who raised their voices around the Supreme Court nomination. I also know of groups forming who intend to speak out and act out within non-violent protest in the upcoming months. If those voices allow themselves to become full of nothing but hate and violence-filled rhetoric, we must be willing to call them out and press for acts of nonviolence, truthfulness, and reconciliation. But I rant.
TRRR

Cheap phrases and Quotes - they sell nothing new

Today was a day for noticing religious bumper stickers. That usually means Christian bumper stickers. I could become very cynical here - but I won't. Instead, I want to play with images and words and simply ask, what do you mean when you say that? Today's bumper sticker was actually the frame around a license plate. It is a well known quote even for folks who are not religious. In fact, if you live in Ohio, it has been the motto of our state since 1959. With God - All things are possible. I will probably try to say three things here - but when I start ranting, I'm not promising anything.

First of all, let's look at it like this. This can mean all things - just as it says. That means it includes the corruption in government - the violence in our lives - the racism - the hatred - the housing that is built to exclude - crooked politicians - unkind remarks - inequality - this and that and then some more. Yep, with God, all things are possible. It is as though when we say we believe in God or say we have God in our lives, that which is possible is endless. Sounds good. Usually it is a way religious folks try to tell others that if they would believe in God - their lives would be better - because all things are possible. That simple motto or that biblical verse is of no moral worth - it is weightless - it permits anything - it encourages nothing of benefit to the world - it simply says everything is possible. So, why even say it - why use it - why hang onto it as though it is the way to make your or my day any better. It is like saying: With God, All things are status quo...but could be better or even worse.

Another look at this well quoted verse points us in the direction of the weightless lie associated with prosperity religious/secular thinking. With God - All things are possible becomes the beacon for those who want people to follow their preaching and teaching - so that the preachers can become prosperous. It is so easy to think that someone who has become prosperous has had that happen because they believe in God. How else could that ass have changed - right? How many stories by well-worded preachers have been used to promise wealth and a good life? They are able to convince folks that the mantra - if often spoken - will change their lives. On another note, it also has a wonderful way of convincing people who get shit on every day - or find themselves at the end of a rope - that they can endure it. God will open up possibilities for you. Yet, most often, the people who are shit on in our society, rarely experience those possibilities. God becomes a type of magician - a power that can change what is, so as to give us what we want, or maybe, what we think we deserve - maybe more than others.

To be quite honest with you, I do not think this motto/verse has a thing to do with God giving us what we want or hope to have or expect will make things better. What if we are really being invited to look a bit deeper? What if this use of God and this mention of possibilities begins with the notion that there is a life in which peace prevails - race prevents us from going color-blind - justice and mercy rain down on all people without partiality - hope transforms us - forgiveness and reconciliation make up a stream that takes folks into a new world? To be quite truthful, all the stuff I just wrote down is a bunch of wishful thinking - foolish thinking - naivete to the max. Hmmm. Thinking like this is as easily dismissed as  hearing John Lennon sing 'Imagine.'

But - and please pause with me - what if With God - All things are possible means that all the things within the Reign of God - the Kingdom of God - the Kingdom of Heaven - the coming of the Messiah (whatever you call it), will come among us only as we let go of our ways of trying to bring it all about - which is usually by warfare - coercion - self consuming actions and policies - threats - control of others. Even though I don't have to write sermons anymore, I find that I count on the stories of the great Prophets and Jesus and any number of saint-like folks to lead me into that which is possible - The Peaceable Reign - or as MLK called it: The Beloved Community.

With the power of God - the power to dismantle the violence of the world's ways that are all around us (and including us) - I have been coming to the awareness that all things within the vision of God's Reign are possible. They don't just come - they become among us. That is the launching pad for the life that is able to turn into that possibility - no matter what the cost may be. Boom - that's the part that we usually kiss goodbye. We are each invited into the impossible of God's reign of justice and peace and endless healing and wholeness. It becomes possible - all of it - as we enter it and become a part of it - as we are able to take ourselves out of the cycle of death that is so much of our lives - as we side with those who seem to be push out of every side - even if we begin the adventure for mere moments at a time. Even more, if you are a coward like I am - a Peter who would rather blend into the crowd rather than stand within the vision of a new creation - then we need to lean into the lives of those who take the risk to walk into that which is called impossible so that we can begin to wander within God's expanding possibility for a new life. Folks learn about possibilities when they see them moving from the realm of impossibilities into the lives of ordinary folk taking the risk to be trampled but also taking the risk to build something in the image of God's creativity.
TRRR

The Violence of Heaven and Hell

Violence is evil. It is always a part of the evil complex that is willing to deny the worth of the other or to consider one person to be worth more than others. One of the most evil - let's say devilish - forms of violence is when the wolf dresses up as a sheep - in order to consume sheep not be one of them. Why is it that the most vile form of violence has a history of being perpetrated by the institutions so many call sacred - blessed - holy? It could be that they have the best collection of weapons to use on ordinary people. I will call it the violence of heaven and hell. It is the violence of a system that seeks the welfare of the institution - the stability of those in power - the positions of privilege.

How many priests have held over the lives of the innocent ones they have consumed the notion of heaven and hell? It happens in many and various ways. It is a part of how much of Christianity has operated. It is part of how the Church has been able to prosper and grow. It is how the truthfulness of a gracious and loving God is thrown away for a domain of violence that allows some to prosper and others to be abused. Unfortunately, this violence works. It always has. The power of evil comes dressed in words and actions that have been labeled as holy but really are tools to allow violence to disregard, dismantle, and desecrate the true holiness that comes as one is a living, breathing human being - made in the image of God. Once again we are seeing in PA., how easy it is for the Church to be vigilante at destroying the image of God in young people. They have become masters of betrayal. They have let the robes and pectoral crosses and head-coverings of religious institutions mean more to them than the lambs - the innocent - the blessed one. Ah, but that is how violence works best - isn't it? It comes disguised and it spins a  story that works like hell to sound as though it stands with the innocent.  Yet, it is life stealing - the fox always views others as food for its dinner table. Therefore, the master of religious violence work like hell to make life a living hell for those they need to devour to stay alive.

I wonder if the real imprimatur (mark of approval) of the Roman Catholic Church is the mark that let's those in power know how to create victims for the welfare of the institution. Just as the Basilica in Rome was constructed with the threat of the violence of heaven and hell, so too  does it seem to be able to sustain itself within walls of violence that understand how to abuse victims, but also, it know how to use the threat of condemnation to hell or the reward of heaven to subvert grace and love and nonviolence and peace. The hierarchy knows what is to be announced - the grace and love of God for all without condition. And yet, the hierarchy also knows what wins the world - what will keep power in place as it always has been and always hopes it will be. It does this by using simple, manipulative, sincere sounding words that actually ignite violence and control. Therefore, the system of violence is maintained and other words - words of truthfulness and hopefulness and graciousness and forgiveness are held off and doled out only when the institution sees fit to do that. This action - this doling out - this holy action - this demonic action - this wolf in sheep's clothing action - this blasphemy, is violent to its core. It may be clothed in words of love and protection and honor and purity and discipline but it exists outside the bounds of love - it does not protect it perverts - it has no honor it only shames - its purity is pure evil and its discipline leads the innocent to a death march while the institution thrives.

Now this may sound anti-Roman Catholic. Well, the ongoing violence of that church body did toss me off my chair as this new episode in PA fell in line with a long line (both revealed and still hidden) of how religious folk are too often some of the most violent people in the world. That was a bit too strong, sorry. Religious folks are just as violent as others. But we, have these weapons of mass destruction - heaven and hell. The way they are used is not to inspire the best of our humanity. They are used to make sure that the image of God that attempts to nurture new life in us is halted - twisted - and weaponized. It is so important that we all - all religious folk - take a long look at how we use the words and images of our faith to commit violence against others. Some may say we must defend ourselves against the powers of evil in the world. But in our language of condemnation and reward, we become, quite quickly and quite masterfully, a part of the violence of heaven and hell that promises to crucify any innocents that long to live into the image of God.

TRRR

Reach up - Grab hold - Now is always a good time

I find that it is easy to simply coast. That can be taken in a number of ways. I tend to mean it as a way to live, as in, I can just coast until this passes - or  - not much I can do, so I will coast for now - or - this is too big, what can I possibly do. Coasting is easy. It is both easy to do and - it is easy to justify. When I was doing my poll on the last presidential election, over 50% of the riders said they were not going to vote - what will one vote mean? So many folks chose to simply coast - let others do the work - the thinking - the acting.

Today as I was going about my usual daily routine, I saw a bunch of litter on the road in our neighborhood. It looked like shit. Some of the stuff has been there for some time. In fact, I had been coasting by some of it so much I should have been taking daily photos to show how it was deteriorating. Instead I kept walking. Months ago when my daily walking schedule was early in the morning I was inspired to carry a bag to pick up the trash. I saw a friend doing it every morning and thought - I can do that. I did - for awhile. But the trash never stopped. Duh, trash does not stop - it keeps coming. So why did I stop? In some way I was giving in to the notion that I cannot solve this issue and if other are not picking up stuff - just coasting - I should probably just coast and do other things.

This notion of coasting - getting away with doing nothing or little - continues to be biting me on the ass. That's another way of saying - nudging me - making me more and more aware of something other than the stuff I want to do just for me - while I coast through my life. Today, in the last hour, there have been a handful of moments when I could have changed the day - stopped coasting - gotten up off my butt and made a difference. In several of those moments, it turned out to be nothing grand. I even got a refusal when I stepped-in to offer a hand. That's fine. At least the hand was there. And, to be quite frank, nothing I did for someone else made me lose anything. Helping someone doesn't mean I give up or lose anything. In fact, I'm finding it lifts up everyone.

I'm going to be sharing some words as to why my wife and I took on the task of organizing and then hosting a reception/fundraiser for Richard Cordray for Governor of Ohio. I can be such an introvert at times I don't even raise my hand to say something. But, there can be no coasting through the political arena of today. Though it is too simplistic to paint things red or blue, this does not mean that we simply let things fall to one side or the other. That is coasting. And just like bending over to pick up trash, we can put out a little energy and be engaged in what seems to be an impossible adventure - an election.

Here's is the center piece to my brief remarks I will be making. MLK used this powerful and poetic vision: the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice. What an image of hopefulness. But then, a writer made this comment about that remark. He writes: It carries the risk of magical thinking. Then he adds that some may come to think - that there is no reason to work for justice - if the arc inevitably bends toward justice. I know that someone else has written that the arc bends with the weight of those whose lives stand on that arc. My thought was - wow, it can take quite a bit of energy and extroversion to climb up onto that arc - visible - exposed - almost attention grabbing. So, my thought was a bit different. 

That arc - that arc that bends toward justice - is a vision of the end that breaks into this moment at hand. I'm not going to bring about the end - but - but, I am able - right here and now - to reach up and grab hold of the arc and take part in the energy that is available for ordinary people to take part in the future - on even the smallest scale. I can do something - I can be someone - that is a part of the healing of the universe - the well-being of all things - the mercy that comes when justice is available to all. 

I know I choose to coast quite often. I also know that I have the ability to step off into the dynamics of the day that most folks would say are best left to others to handle. Then again, when I choose to coast - stay to myself - let others deal with it - the vision of justice for all continues - and yet, I'm missing out on the vibrancy of its life right now. Even if that means, reaching up and grabbing hold of that arc gets my hand slapped or my life beaten or my opinions shouted down, at least, for a moment in time, the fullness of a future of hope and justice and peace and mercy is present. In those moments, the story I am writing with my life is not all about me. I also know that when I see people around me living in the moment with their hands wrapped around that arc - they inspire me - they encourage me - they help me do the bowing and bending that takes into consideration the well being of others that takes place when each of us reaches up and grabs hold - even for just one small moment in time. 

TRRR

To live within promise - we cannot be alt-f(right) or christian f(right)

Ah, I have started referring to those who see themselves as the white saviors of the land by tweaking some words they often use. Even though a one one-time devotee to the white supremacy movement has strongly urged people to never use the alternative labels for white supremacy - alas I found a way to corrupt their labeling preference. He said that all the labels like alt-right and nativists - for example - are labels white supremacist have put out there to soften what they are. They want us to use their words to cover up who they are: white supremacists.

After he laid out his history in and then his movement away from white supremacy thought and life, I considered putting his suggestion into my working vocabulary. So I have been using white supremacist much more. But now, I found my way to confront the beast of white supremacy and their racist antics by pointing out the power that keeps it alive. Therefore, my substitutes for white supremacy will be the alt-f(right). A similar change will work well for the religious folk who have an interesting way of making their faith white, exclusive, judgmental, and accusatory: the christian r(fright). The power of fear is great - but it is not the final word (read the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures).

The more I listen to people in both f(right) groups (yet, often their devotees overlap one another), I hear the voice of fear and then the anger that fear generates and then the threats that anger ignites and then the threats that are meant to exclude and demean and objectify. The christian f(right) has become a master of taking the words of love and grace and endless forgiveness and using them in a conditional manner. In that way, fear rather than love, becomes their gift to the world - but it is a nasty and corrupt gift. It is wrapped well in words of love - but, please note, whenever love is forced to flow through filters like if you... or when you... or unless you... their use of love may be the love they use to control their own little world - but it is not the love that is to be the image of our lives to which the Scriptures give witness.

The alt-f(right) masterfully tells us how 'those other folks' are making it impossible for us - to be us. And yet, with all their alt-f(right) words and action they are indeed being just who they are - fright-full racists who have never learned to see the world through more lenses than the one that was given to them at birth. Therefore, a story line outside their polaroid snapshot of only those who were able to fit into their family picture, is a foreign story and therefore a story to be ignored. But, when  those other story lines cannot be ignored because they are filled with the lives of neighbors and fellow citizens and those longing to a part of the melting pot of this country, the alt-f(right) freaks out. They gnash their teeth. They try to tell us and show us how strong they are but their fear-filled emperor has not clothes.

The alt-f(right) and the christian f(right) are unable to see the coming of that peaceable reign of life that is referred to as the Holy City coming down to earth in John's apocalypse. They are blind to the creativity of God who takes humanity - the whole spectrum of folks who often do not even look or act as though we are one people - and they attempt to demonize those who are created in the image of God's Peaceable Reign - but not their image. The f(right) must be nurtured into a life in which we need not fear - we need to touch and love and welcome and listen and share and offer up out lives so that the other may live in peace with us - as one of us. To resist fear we must be present with open arms. That is not easy - that has even proven to be dangerous - that can be life-changing for all sides.

It is not easy to resist a world built by those who can only hear and live by stories from the far f(right). The risk can be great. In addition, it may even mean confronting those who claim to be the opposite of the devotees of the world of f(right). Yet within their multicultural - open arms posture - and rants (like mine) they still find that f(right) finds a way into our living and talking and condemning.

To resist the f(right) that longs to rule all of us - takes work. It is work that demands our attention every day - listening again and again - saying yes and saying no - offering something new when we are living as people content with what has been. I do not want our country to be run by people who cannot see beyond their skin color or ethnic background or cultural patterns or the way they think it has always been (which is usually a non truth). That, takes work. I find it also means we live within the realm of promise not one of control. Damn, that's hard. Yet we are meant to put our whole humanity into it so that we will become (all of us) truly human. For many of us, it is almost impossible to do that - yet we must.
TRRR

Facing the faces we have learned are right and good - and racist

Is the church really a people who bring new life to the world? Maybe I need to ask if your congregation is a gathering of people who bring new life to the world? Then again maybe I need to look in the mirror and ask if I am a part of the church - of our humanity -the brings new life to the world?

Even in retirement - and more so when I served as a pastor in a parish setting - it seems as though we are too often involved in the sacred exercise of keeping things as they are. Obviously that is not true. Many folks will point out how much the church has done to change the world. Then again, just like the steamboat that keeps on rollin, the character of our society keeps on the path of keeping on the path of what has been - and with that - following the path of how it can keep on keeping on just as is - that is often the violence of a humanity that wants nothing to do with the peaceable Reign of God - whether religious our secular.

What is the new life we bring to the world? Is it a uniform and universal stance against racism? Not yet. More and more, it seems as though we speak well of the end of racism yet the church too often fades into the wall when race is brought into a conversation trying to uncover the ongoing game of racism - a game in which we - are the active pieces on the board. I am working my way though Tim Wise's book White Like Me. It is a life story that open up the subtle yet powerful way that we white folks are sucked into a false reality - a reality that closes off the wide wonderful spectrum of the diversity of our humanity. Wise presents an honesty and painful personal history that too many of us white folk try to dismiss - too, too easily.

When recalling a story of how his very, liberal thinking and living mother - having had too much to drink - said, Goddamn nig...  He shut her down. It was a point of painful recognition. When I read it, it made so much sense - painful sense. Let me quote something Wise wrote:
Racism, even if it not your own but merely circulates in the air, changes you: it allows you to think and feel things that make you less than you were meant to be. My mother, by proving her own weakness and exhibiting her own conditioning, taught me that one can never be too carful, can never enjoy the luxury of being too smug of believing oneself so together, so liberal, so down to earth with the cause of liberation that it becomes impossible to be sucked in, to be transformed. 

Then he writes; People never hurt others in moments of strength and bravery, or when we're feeling good about ourselves. If we spend all of our time in places such as that, then fighting for social justice would be redundant - we would simply have social justice and be done with it, and we could go swimming, or dancing, or whatever people do. 

Within our diversity - within our world that draws lines between neighborhood - within the places we claim as safe as we point at those that we see as dangerous - within the wonderful way our humanity is expressed in different colors and languages and life experiences, there is one truth that too many of us are afraid to hold onto and not lose our grip: we are one. But that, that truth, is something we have learned, somehow, is not true. Where in the hell did we get that? Well, we were born into it and we drank its poison even as it was hidden within the love of wonderful family and friends. Today, we must not accept poison or lies. We must be vulnerable people who question. We must be  people who know how to bend and bow and not make others into our image - but listen to the story of their humanity that is as human as ours - maybe more so.

We have come out on the other side of of another Independence Day. We, especially people of faith, need to divest ourselves of the stuff that has given us so much. So that - we will be open to the humanity of those we have been taught - however subtlety - is not like ours. Until then, the same old power of death will lead us - we will draw lines - we will move away - we will talk about them - we will see ourselves as the blessed norm. Yet, the norm has never been blessed. It has always been the power of the beast that the Lamb - through its love - dismantles through sacrificial living.
TRRR

Please, continue to inspire me

When we are seduced by fear, by what will come, it is easy to restrict life by closing in our minds - closing in our circles of acquaintances - closing our doors - closing off our hearts - closing our borders, and making up boundaries that we come to trust as the way our lives will be saved. 

When we are seduced by fear, we search for ways to be saved - saved from them - saved from all that is different and unknown - saved from harm - saved from the influences of that which is new or previously beyond our experience and our desires. In all these ways, we are fooled into believing that being saved has to do with keeping life as we want it.

When we are seduced by fear, we lose the vision of how scripture uses the word saved or save. Fear attempts to twist our minds and hearts into trusting that God saves us from a scary and troubled world - saves us from those powers out there - saves us from the life that is here and now - saves us from a Hell of a place - saves us like fragile figurines that are quite lifeless.

So, when fear attempts to seduce us, we must remember that we are saved for a life that faces trouble - opens our hearts and minds - risks harms way even when it means stepping out of our safety net to rescue others - greets and protects the alien - sacrifices what is, so as to enter what might be - and even breaks wind at threats of Hell. It is within this kind of a saving adventure that religious lines are able to be crossed and the brutality and bigotry and condemnation that upholds those lines can be exposed for the violence they proclaim and produce. 

When fear attempts to seduce us, we are invited to turn and face the lies that attempt to keep the world around us within the grasp of the many beasts of violence. Such beasts, never want to be seen as beasts. They want to be seen as upright - pure - law abiding - keeping the world safe and sound. In the face of such beasts, we are invited to pull the veil back on such images that attempt to color the world with the lies of self-righteousness. In other words, we are invited to get off our butts and act contrary to any and all laws - norms - society assumptions - and religious mandates that adhere to the violence of the culture. That, for instance, is why the great prophets of the Hebrew Scriptures were great. They uncovered the brutality of the acceptable and that which was considered holy and above reproach. We also saw such action from Jesus as he walked through the living lies of the religious and cultural establishment of his day that were sold on and were selling fear and death rather than saving folks for a boldness of life that is vital to crossing all boundaries and borders and walls in order to being peace - shalom - and wholeness to all people. 

When fear attempts to seduce us, we are invited to, toss off the threats that come from the beasts around us and that live under another rule - another way - another power that promises some kind of salvation - a promise that has never been fulfilled throughout history. The beasts around us are like foxes - able to trick us into their ways - always bringing about violence and death and control and more fear. Yet, I am overcome by the Hen. When the beasts and  foxes come dressed up as old-time religion or patriotic warriors in order to have their way - the Hen does not follow. The Hen gathers its young - places them beneath her and shelters them. The Hen will not be seduced. The Hen will not follow. The Hen will protect the future by being a nonviolent witness that sits down - resists - takes the hit and gives the future a picture of life that fears not. That is life that is not undone or seduced by fear. That is life that sees a gift in bending to serve all - no matter what the cost. That is life that needs no affirmation from the structures of the day - for those structures keep everything as is. That Hen life is life that knows that no power - no beast - no well-mannered rule - will bring about the well-being of all. 

Fear is attempting to win the day around us even today, and unfortunately, it is so easy to be seduced and to keep things as they have always been. That always seems safe - yet, such safety is a lie that offers comfort supported by endless lies.  That is why people are so taken back by the words of visionaries who are able to speak of another way to be truly human. That is why just a few words from a prophetic voice are able to turn our heads and, at times, our hearts and, at times, the whole way we step out into the day at hand. 

I have found that it is not easy for a self-described coward, to speak about the boldness of a Hen and the need to confront lies and speak in words that offer a new world and a new life. Yet, with the voices of discrimination and hate and intolerance and self-absorption and fear attempting to seduce us yet again, I know I must face my fears and become the unending love I claim to hold dear. Today, I was driving along and I was quite overwhelmed with fear. I started to think that my voice should become softer - my presence less noticed - my advocacy for and with the least among us more controlled. I became so upset with myself I wasn’t sure what to do. I felt threatened and disposable. That can be enough to make ordinary folks, like me, into a piece of the beast that thrives on fear and anxiety. It sure had me by the chest while I was driving. But then, I thought of you - and you - and you - and you - and you - and those others I know only by the stories I hear. I need stories of Hens who do not give up - never give in - resist unto death - offer up new life. So, continue to inspire me so that fear will have no power to seduce me.

TRRR

Fences - Walls - only create a hell among us

Each time I volunteer as a Clinic Escort for Planned Parenthood, I expect I will have at least one person from the other side of the fence - among the protestors - tell me how I will rot in hell or face eternal damnation or have to deal with the wrath of God. These 'kind' words are magnified for those protestors who have found out that I am a retired pastor. It is quite odd that these followers of the Prince of Peace - the Lamb of God - really get off on images of apocalyptic destruction and condemnation. Since I am on the wrong side of the fence in their eyes - I'm dirt - I'm misdirected - I'm a follower of Satan - I'm vile. Words of grace are not for me or any of the women and men who enter into the clinic - unless we abide by the rule of death from the other side of the fence.

At the fence, if you listen closely, you will hear how the peaceable Reign of God is turned into a way of intolerance - distain - condemnation - promises of death (horrible death). Unfortunately that is how the Scriptures are perceived by many folks today - both young and old. Many have turned the bible into a book that nurtures violence. The violence is always against them. The them are people who must be saved. I suppose I am one of them for I do not follow along with the words and images at the fence. At the fence (as in most other contexts) being saved has nothing to do with being made whole and well and restored into the fullness of our humanity in the image of God. It is a word of threat. So someone is saved if that person goes along with the notion that some get to go to heaven and the rest are to go to hell. Get it right (our way) or to hell with you. Doesn't that just sound comforting? Get it right (our way) or God's wrath will come down on you.

Some colleagues and I read Compassion or Apocalypse (James Warren) last year. near the end of the book Warren turns to the John's Revelation. That's the last book in the Christian Scriptures and it is a book that is often used to try to scare the Lord Jesus into your life. First of all - just to be clear -the peaceable Reign of God that was embodied in Jesus is not brought about through fear or threat. But in that book, we hear about the kings and rulers and magnates and generals and the rich and powerful and everyone, slave and free running and hiding from - get this - the wrath of the Lamb. The Lamb, he writes is the hero of that last book. The hero is utterly vulnerable. The hero only practices a life of peace and reconciliation. The hero embraces all - without partiality. The hero will be slaughtered for the well-being of any and all. Now, why would one be afraid of a figure who gets nailed. Well, it is one of a judge who judges in favor of us - even when we are on the wrong side of the fence. The Lamb models a new humanity that never abides by the powers of the world and those who really, really want to be able to pass judgment on others - because this  judge - the Lamb - refuses - at every instance - to be on the side of the powerful and rich and rulers and all who have a whole world history of bringing about the same old - same old - kind of world without end. As one writer noted, all hell (literally) breaks out around the Lamb - because they cannot abide by such a world - such a vision - such a unending welcome and embrace and forgiveness and healing.

But at the fence, folks seem to thrive on the battle - the zero sum game - the us and them - death or life - and, of course, their own biblical literalism that is always ready to support their need for control over the lives of others - most often noted as in the name of Jesus. One of the aspects of being a Clinic Escort is that we do not engage those folks at the fence. That would be an endless back and forth that is nothing more than hell itself. Instead, I have witnessed men and women whose focus is on the well-being of those people who have come to the clinic. Yes, some come for abortions, some come for other forms of medical attention, some come for educational materials, some come for contraceptives, but all come from a world that often violently rejects who they are and the lives they choose to live. I have also noticed that our silence - our hospitality toward people coming to the clinic drives those folks at the fence into a fiery frenzy that, in many ways, portrays the hell in which they choose to live and try to pull others.

We are such a divided society that the fence becomes a metaphor for our differences. These will not go away. No wishful thinking. No prayers. Unless, of course, we stumble upon and enter into a miracle of dialogue that is utterly beyond us - as long as we know only the violence of a life that manufactures division - blame - hatred - and self-righteousness. God is not violent. God is love. We are made in the image of God. How is it that we keep looking for life that is not within that image? Maybe we love our fences and the hell they create more than the open spaces of reconciliation and kindness and sacrifice of life for the welfare of our sisters and brothers and any who may even be our enemies today.
TRRR

They 'did not do what the king of Egypt commanded them'

In a prominent place in our kitchen is a big multimedia piece of work done by one of my favorite local artists - Cody Miller. Women and babies are placed throughout the work. It is very colorful painting. With the use of lips and eyes and clothing cut out from magazines along with his brilliant and life giving use of paint, Cody brings to canvas - the great imagination of Scripture. He makes you see Scripture in a new way. His paintings are not the mere repetition of memorized verses for which people rarely know the context and even more rarely have a notion of the context of the story before any storytelling was put to paper. That's the key. He blows open the viewers mind so that we will no longer look with eyes that claim to know the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Years ago, we had our sanctuary filled with Cody's original works. During that month, I knew that folks were drawing inspiration and vision and hope and joy and a call for justice from simply gazing around the sanctuary. Wonder-filled images. My words were probably secondary - if that high on the list.

This morning as Karen and I were going over the news from my periodontist and attempting to make some kind of plan to pay for it, I was once again looking at Exodus 1:17 - Cody style. 'But the midwives feared God; they did not do as the king of Egypt commanded them, but they let the boys live.' The great and mighty Pharaoh was afraid and troubled. There were all these damn immigrants - slaves - foreigners  who had wandered from their home during hard times and made it to Egypt. During their sojourn, they had grown great in numbers and therefore the king put hardships upon them. (Note: there is a long history to rulers who fear those not like them - especially the foreigners. That is why we are told throughout Scripture to take care of the foreigners and travelers and neighbors - do not fear them - care for them. That is what makes us a biblical people.)

Well, the midwives - the weakest of folk within the domain of powers - did not do as the king of Egypt commanded them. The text says they did not act as the king demanded because they feared God. No. They honored and were in awe of and understood who is the eternal author of life. So, they simply blew off Pharaoh's pompous policies. They were going to protect those Hebrew boys - the seed for the future - those little ones who caused this ruler, who thought he was the greatest gift to the world, to be anxious and full of fear of that which he did not control - life. Yes, Mr. Pharaoh, Mr. President, Mr. Supreme Leader, Mr./Ms in charge and in power - the midwives will keep out of your deadly control the most vulnerable - the infants - the easiest to destroy. Ha!

This depiction of Exodus 1:17 also drew me down to the border that the U.S shares with Mexico. Fearful rulers and policy makers need to attack the children - weakest - least - lost. That is who the powers of death like to defeat - that is usually all they are able to defeat - that is a frequent target. For when they are able to do that, they also have gone a great way in killing the soul of a people - a nation - a country - a family - right when they thought they were making a nation great. When those who are fearful and in need of self-aggrandizement and self-security and self-adoration act; they act-out. Like bullies. Like a Pharaoh who cannot see the worth of all people. Therefore, they gather up stories that make themselves seem as though they are doing what is just and right and greatly needed to protect the privileged of the land from the hordes at the boundary.

Let me switch gears. When we are able to suggest the building of a wall - one that cannot ever be completed as promised or able to do what it has been promised to do - and, when we are being promised a parade of military might so that our supreme leader can stand there and act like they represent his strength and power, then - I would suggest - we have the funds to do that which walks the moral high ground in regard to border and immigration action. But, what in the world is going on with Pharaoh? In the land of the free and the home of the brave, why does Pharaoh fear frail children fleeing lands of violence. We have been and still are a land full of hope. But to the world, we are becoming a land where  a vision of hope is becoming one that is led by a person afraid to risk offering a life full of hope to the hopeless. Also,  I want to pose the same question to congress. When our supreme leader lacks moral substance, how is it that the hundreds of men and women with leather seats and lifetime salaries and healthcare will not stand up and take over their respective sides of the Capitol and demand that we let the children go and when Pharaoh whines - veto him!

Just to throw in another rant, I really think it does not help to use the same color to paint a picture. So, when I dislike how a station like FOX will have each of its employees engage the same word to describe a situation - other cable stations like MSNBC and CNN fall into the same ugly language trap. I have been keeping track of how often 'Ripped' has been used - as in children ripped from the arms...' Please expand your vocabulary - give us details, and if you don't have the words,  don't fall into the trap of a loss of words. A teacher and mentor used to say that folks who would call everything a f...ing this or an f...ing that - simply had a limited command of adjectives. We can do better to describe the events around us. Paint a better picture.

Like comics and writers and poets, I find artists relentlessly draw us various images that attempt to pull us out of ourselves so we can be self-critical and self-aware and then see the world around us a bit more clearly - honestly - compassionately. With eyes wide open. Paying for my oral repairs are nothing to the price the soul of our country is taking when we go after the children and families fleeing danger for a land of hope.
TRRR

It will take me a few days to be able to hear again

So I was clanging my cowbell - mostly in a way that blended the cadence of the Hater on his portable megaphone and whatever music was passing by our spot along the Columbus Pride parade. It would be only partially correct if I said the guy on the megaphone was pissed at me. He had a memory - we were in this same position last year - me on cowbell and him on megaphone. I must say that once he told me not to do what I did last year - in a tone and with language that was pointed and bitter - he then said, 'I like your sunglasses.' I'm a nut in some ways because even when things are quite black and white and tend to be quite obviously so, I am able to see and hear some of the other colors. It is an odd place to be.

It was my task to drown out the hate talk. For me, plain old hate talk is hard to hear. It becomes a matter of a mission when the hate talk is being ascribed to Scripture - especially when the Scripture being used - is not meant to be hateful. For example, within a few breaths, this self-righteous preacher cursed those walking by and reminded them how much his God hated them for who they were and what they do. Then he read from the creative verses of the prelude to John's gospel. Within moments, the creator of all things - the one who creates with a word - is cast as one who destroys and condemns. Which word was this guy using - Hmmm.

It sounded a bit like Jeff Sessions quoting the opening verses of Romans 13 and using them as though they give credence to the separation of children from their family because Paul said we should abide by the governing authorities of the day.  Yet, Sessions quote doesn't go far enough - as biblical scholar Stephen Colbert noted when he said Sessions should have read Romans 13:9 and 10. There it speaks of love - the law of love - the one law we are to abide by - love of neighbor. It will be those verses that instruct us to follow that new command - to love - over any laws in any place and time. THOSE verses show the fulfillment of the law of love.

But, let me not digress, while I was a clanging cowbell trying to tame a clanging cymbal of hate and - in my understanding of the good news of the Reign of God presented in Scripture - silence a bit of biblical literalism that demeans scripture and tries to create a life that can be shoved on folks, the woman next to me kept telling me to listen to what he was reading. I looked at her and in one of my very few words of the day said, 'I know those words quite well already - that's why I'm here playing this cowbell.' Our band of ragtag bells, horns, toy xylophones, kazoos, and one nice drum corp drum were on site to attempt to put a lid on the words of hate that were intended to intensify the words of condemnation and biblical confusion that was printed on their many signs.

I've walked in the Parade in years past - with a cadre of ELCA congregations. The haters who find it necessary to come to Pride to harp on their vision of the good, the bad, and the ugly have a knack of simply making everything ugly. And yet, in a crowd of 500,000 their voice is but a drop in the bucket - we must remember that. Yet, it is a drop that too many of us find acceptable - or - we simply say nothing - we let it go on without offering another word. These folks cannot be simply dismissed. We must speak a different word - I will call it the Good News of the Reign of God - sound familiar? I will also call it the words of peace that come from other faiths and the voices of atheists whose arms are dedicated to being open wide rather than ready for a fight against all that differ from us. The haters do not think they are haters. In fact, a few of the folks I did talk with were just like me - committed. Yet, we are committed to a different reality - a different vision - a different way of walking in and being part of the way of endless love for neighbor, any neighbor.

One of the men within the haters group who was trying to encourage the preacher, came at me with the claim that I was afraid of what his colleague was saying. He then went into a bit about first amendment rights - why was I not honoring their right to speak. Without getting into it, I simply said, 'I'm interpreting his words into cowbell.' That was not appreciated. Thing is, they can rant all they want. But when they do it in the public square and attempt to use their words to batter and beat down and demean and dump a vision of life on others not wanting their vision, I suppose our band can play along with them just as freely. It is unfortunate that those folks who got all dressed up in their cross baseball hats and red, hate shirts have to hear this kind of biblical interpretation in their own churches, and yet it is shameful that they bring it out onto the street to bash others. I have never witnessed them convert a person at Pride to their vision. I don't think they are there to convert nor do they have the ability. Many of those in the parade are free thinkers and would never by into such violent speech. Image a group of Pride folk going to their church and hearing about a love of God that is ready to condemn. I would think those folk would be quick to leave.

There are so many different people who take part in the Pride Parade. Even as I look at and walk with and talk with so many folks, I really don't get some of their actions or words. Yet, I will be their ally and march with them for I have seen the many ways people have been saved by the work of the GLBTQ community - in the church and on the outside of it. I know, you may have a knee-jerk reaction to my use of the word saved - especially if saved simply has to do with getting to heaven. So hear in that word - healed, made whole, welcomed and nurtured into life that knows no end - love. I find that such a community as this has saved me - made me whole - helped me love more than the limits I tend to put on love - given me breath for another day - turned me from being controlling to jumping into a world of creativity and hopefulness. Clang - Clang.
TRRR

New credibility - wearing jeans and no sport coat

So the new leader of the Southern Baptist Convention may be a guy who 'sometimes preaches in jeans and shirts with no sport coat'. Well, glory be to God - all is well with my soul.

Supposedly, this makes him a really an innovative dude. He goes so far as to take the SBC notion of complementarianism (make leadership in the home and in the church something a man must take hold of - and certainly not a woman) and simply tries to soften it by saying 'it must be observed in a way that's respectful of women and encourages them to play an active role in church affairs'- wow, what a wild man. In other words, women can only have a place and a say if a man - like him - says there needs to be a way woman can do more in the church. In other words, this is still 'a man's world' that may let women do more. Ha - in other words - he disrespects women by his comments that he thinks respects them. Ha.

The notion of complementainism is an ancient and tribal way to structure a culture. It has nothing to do with the Reign of God - the way of Jesus - or the life of the followers of Jesus. It is the foolishness of those who read something in Scripture and cannot see the stories as they sit in another time and culture. Therefore, a mere sentence can become a rule - a law - that must be followed even if it only has to do with ancient ways to build a culture on power and submission and ill founded stereotypes of men and women.  By the way, these folks have no clue what to do with GLBTQ followers of Jesus - so they just refuse to see their lives as lives just as glorious as the rest. But that is not the issue at hand here - but it does tie in a bit.

The guy who may be the new SBC leader and his dress and his attempt to soften their practices that are dismissive of sound biblical scholarship struck me because it appears as though a clergy person's dress may give him (him - in this case) some credibility in our culture. So, hey, this must be a real follower of Jesus because he can talk and preach while wearing jeans - and no sport coat. Cool. Over the years I have heard and seen a number of 'casual' preachers gather a crowd around them - pull together a bunch of solid musicians - do their church thing outside the setting of a traditional church building, and they preach and teach and raise their voices and make it sound like they are the true voice of God and the sidekick of Jesus in our day. And yet, their teaching and preaching lights up an old world that does not know how to bring the love of God into the present and leave the garbage of ancient tribes and cultures behind. Let me also say - I have heard many voices - offering up the same garbage - dressed up in robes and prancing inside church buildings. Just saying.

When the bible is seen as a magical book - as a book of law mediated by a word of grace that is only accessible to some (duh, no grace at all) - the message may sound good - it may fit the old vision for life we all took in and accepted as children, but it leaves out the life within the vision of the Reign of God, in which, no one is less or left out or put under the rule of another person. I often hear young 'preachers' - who come out to protest at clinics that see to the accessibility of women's health care that may include abortions - and these young, jean wearing preachers only know how to repeat words from the bible - they have little if any understanding of the life within the Reign of God. For them it is still the same old religion of threat, fear mongering, work your ass of to get God to love you but they cover over their vile words with words of love that leave people confused and often angry at everyone who reads the Bible and takes away a vision for life.

As I read that article in the Dispatch, I thought of clergy whose dress is quite traditional and yet their words about the living Reign of God transform life among us. Look at Episcopal Bishop Michael Curry - look at Bishop William Barber, a leader of the Poor People's Campaign - they are examples of the words of Scripture being held up as a way to transform our day - by letting loose old images and rules that keep our world divided and then take the risk to bind us to a vision for new life in which ancient ways - tribal fears and practices - are dropped. Make this one mental note, if a preacher - no matter what s/he is wearing (although you won't hear many women use this  word) refers to humanity as man walk out - turn off the TV - move to another podcast - or better yet, talk to that preacher about how God creates humankind - and we - all of us - bring forth the Reign of God in our day as we let loose of the shit that always leaves some out or puts them 'in their place'. Or, on a more positive note, listen to those who preach about God's Peaceable Reign - in which their no violence or prejudice or sexist stereotypes or need to control their folks - and simply thank them and return to listen with a critical ear always willing to question ancient cultish ways that must we let go for the opportunity to live within God's unfolding Reign.
TRRR

An Age of Feral Nastiness

I had to quickly turn and grab for a piece of paper (my ability to remember quotes is horrible) because Bret Stephens from the NYT had thrown out a wild run of comments as he was taking part in a panel discussion. I was not fast enough. So I had to interrupt the flow of the recorded show and move back toward his comments. As is usually the case, I go back to far - but this was worth it. I have always appreciated the input Stephens has when he is brought onto a panel. I think I am correct in saying he was a Republican. He also strikes me as being someone who looks for truth and is willing to move from one stance to another by way of well-thought out analysis that does not pull punches. It was quite apparent, that in these years of Trump, using the past tense to describe his political leaning is a deliberate move by him - but not forevermore. I like that. Honest and moveable and acknowledging that he may move again.

Within the discussion they were having about the present climate in the country and the present occupant of the White House, he referred to the stuff coming from our President and others who follow him as feral nastiness. THAT was why I had to go back and hear it again. For me, it was a use of the English language that I always appreciate. It wasn't a glancing blow or a mere insult, it was a commentary on the character of the person who we have put into the oval office despite his long and unceasing ability to be nasty - yet, as Stephens comment suggests - he is nasty without any bit of class. Nastiness has its place. I appreciate nastiness because it makes me turn my head and wonder a bit about the origin of the comment and how the comment is being used. Most often, a nasty comment is biting - it is biting and yet carries a seed of truthfulness - it can be truthful with a twist, a bite, a laugh. The President lacks such an ability. His nastiness is biting in the way a feral animal bites - it knows no other way to exist because anything outside his own world view is seen as a threat.

I used to be content watching and listening to the President just as I would do the same to other people whose lives are a parade of narcissistic acts and reactions. I would wonder what could have possibly happened to him to make his actions so infantile - so fear filled - so lacking in self reflection that he is only able to attack. But now, with the introduction of a simple phrase like feral nastiness, I realize it is not merely his narcissistic tendencies that run his life and mouth. Rather, it is a deeper issue. He has been nurtured with a vision of a dog-eat-dog world that has no respect for anything other than that which feeds him or lets him possess whatever he wants or allows him to use anyone or anything for his own consumption. It is the way he appears to be with women and anyone who may appear to be a stumbling block to what he wants. His nastiness appears everyday. It is because it is not an act. It is the very character of the man. To use his own word, that's SAD. It really is.

Stephens also spoke of a juvenile self-pity. Again, it is so descriptive. Even in the position of being the most powerful person in the world, he unceasingly plays the role of victim.Therefore, he cannot stop tweeting about how everyone is picking on him - more than anyone else in history - falsely accused at a levels never seen before. The two descriptive phrases used by Stephens go together for when a person suffers from a sense that the person has been wronged and does that from being locked in the emotionally developmental position of a child - all we can expect is uncultivated and wild attacks like an uncontrollable beast. There is nothing creative that will come from such a power. Playground antics will rule the day. It fears the day because anything and everything becomes that at which an feral reaction is needed.     That doesn't mean the President cannot lead the country. It does mean that we must be vigilant in regard to how we are being led and what is the life into which we are being led. For eventually, such a leader will lead us into a cultural setting in which the society around us - including us - is unable to consider the welfare of all. It is then that we become the wild beasts who concur that some can be discarded - eaten up - used for the moment at hand - leaving behind destruction rather than redemptive creativity. I would end by offering a positive word about being nasty. I think we can be practitioners of creative nastiness. It is a nastiness (if you are bible reading person) of the great prophets - of Jesus - of Paul - of Mary Magdelene. It is the nastiness of social reformers and peaceable resisters and martyrs who are willing to be eaten by feral beasts in order to leave a message of hope and direction for those who must carry on beyond the days of feral nastiness.
TRRR

Way out of line

I do not read much history. That will change. Last week I finished Jon Meecham's The Soul of America and within just one week of reflection his work has exposed - more than ever - how hope prevails even when the voices of hatred and bigotry and fear attempt to win the day. Meecham does that by giving us a overview of the line of presidents that goes back to the days before Lincoln. There have always been forces of evil and - to contrast Meecham's use of better angels - these devils/demons thrive on violence, bigotry, and control that is cast only in one line of history. Better Angels always stand up to the devilish powers that attempt to rule the country.

My first take away from this book was simply the wonderful and gifted people who have led our country as president. They have a job that demands the help of better angels (Meecham's use of Lincoln's term) because there is just too much power that tries to move us to less than who we are called to be as Americans. It was also jarring to see how presidents I have admired were individuals who went along with the societal diseases of their day - yet, they were able to turn and move in a creative manner even within the biases and fears of their time. They helped make us a stronger union.

As each chapter passed by, I was struck by their use of the English language. They spoke well. They wrote even better. I realize many of them used speech writers, but they also wrote some of the most powerful and dynamic pieces that will hang with us as we move on in time. It is within those glimpses of the presidents - even ones I did not like - that I realized that we are being stooged. That is, we have let someone who cannot speak or write beyond sound bites - tweets - slurs - and innuendos, take control of the office of president. This was highlighted again on Memorial Day. I hung my head when I read the day's tweet by our President. As is usually his case, he broke wind again. This time, it was in the face of our men and women in the military. He had to use the few words he tries to put together in 140 characters to talk about himself. I then saw the tweets of the past four presidents. Their 140 characters were - how shall I put it - presidential. They were to the point, clear, and, they honored our armed forces. I even turned to my wife and said that George W. (who I was not very fond of) was respectful as he mentioned a fallen soldier and included what I think was one of his paintings of the man - W. you did well.

The Soul of America lifts up the greatness of our history and as that is being done, it becomes more and more obvious that our president falls short - very short - of being a part of that honorable parade of past residents of the White House. Meacham doesn't go after Trump. He doesn't have to. Within his glimpse at the highs and lows of our presidential history, it becomes obvious that we are presently at a great loss. We have let ourselves fall for that which is created and ruled by fear - shame on us.

I have attempted to put together transcripts of the stuff our president says. It is an exercise in foolishness for all I can reconstruct is foolishness. I wonder what the Trump library will contain. I am not a good impromptu speaker or writer so I cannot be too critical. Yet, we have a person who falls way out of line with the plumb line of what is presidential and that which has a history of sending us beyond our fears. Meacham writes of hope. He offers what appears to be a bit of truthfulness about our highs and lows. It made me reflect on how low we have gone in the past few years. We are not a perfect union - but we have a history filled with those who have been bold and truthful enough to face our demons so that we will keep marching toward a union that fits who we have been deemed to be.

Today I was at a demonstration that is a part of the Poor People's March. As things were drawing to a close, I was tempted to interrupt the flow of the event in order to invite people to sing the National Anthem and invited them to kneel as we sang. No one would be forced to kneel - everyone would be invited to sing or listen. My thought was to help us all consider that we can - in many and various ways - honor our country and its wonder-filled history even if we must do it by kneeling. That would be done in the face of  a narcissist who kneels for no one - even though he is cast - by some evangelical Christians - as a person who follows Jesus. Our president only kneels to himself. From that position, he is someone who does not know how to lead with better angels alongside,  - he knows only how to crucify - that is how the fear filled live - and die.
TRRR

I think the dog might poop in my shoe -now what?

In the Gospel according to Luke when the Romans took to the place called the skull and crucified Jesus and the two men who were labeled criminals, Jesus says, "Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing." Well, recently on a long walk I wondered about that. I did that bit of wondering from the perspective of someone who damn well could have been in that crucifying crew. I damn well could have driven in the spikes. It's not that hard to do when you think you are protecting something you have and want to keep it just as it is. Crucifying others is also easy to do when you live within the fear and anxiety of being nailed someday yourself. So, hell yes, I know what I'm doing. I know that if I take part in driving in the spikes I will continue to bring about life - at least for me and my own. I know that as long as I go along with how things are - things may get better or at least not worse - so, hammer away. Don't say I don't know what I'm doing.

I had to chuckle on the plane the other day. I was reading and trying not to cough up my left lung when I heard the rustling of fear coming from another row of seats. It was the kind of fear that seems to be popular today. It is one of those what if they...  kind of fears. It is the kind of fear one has when you think your dog is waiting for a moment to crap in one of your shoes. Therefore, you check and recheck those shoes each time you go to put them on - or even just as you pass by. The dog could just do it - at any time. This is the kind of fear that is built of shit. Yes, and worse than that, shit that is not even shit - it is mind shit. But it could be shit - maybe. So in order to avoid that which could smell up the rest of the day, some folks cannot see the wonder and fullness of the day. Rather than hold onto visions of hopefulness and adventure and the ever expansive nature of creativity, they contemplate shit-fulness. On that flight last week, a guy seemed to be tying to badger another passenger into willfully considering the threat of shit - the something that could mess up the day - the something that could make a person change their pattern for life. For as sick as I was becoming on that flight, that poor guy was being pumped full of a whole hosts of contagions meant to infect him into some sort of dis-ease so that he would become a follower of fear and a devotee of anxious living.

When we fear that we might step in some shit, our lives begin to smell before any shit is even sighted. From what I could observe, the guy on the plane was - by mere observation of his dress and luggage and endless recounting of his successes - well off and in good health. If he was retired, he was doing just fine. If he was still working, he would continue to do just fine. But as far as I could hear, the fear of shit happening - in his shoe - in his life - in his own pants - had him twisted up like the conspiracist personality, Alex Jones. Jones really has nothing to fear - he knows people don't like to step in shit - so he throw stories of shit everywhere with the expectation that they are willing to squish through his shit in order to avoid the fear-filled droppings he throws around airwaves. And, in the meantime, you can fight the fear with these wonderful shit-stopping, shit-deflecting dietary supplements - edible shit.

So, sorry for all the shit talk. But fear - when we are afraid of what could be - when things are not just as we want them or have them - brings about an itch to bitch. And then, worse, an itch to do anything to keep the world as we have had it - or wished it would have been  - or how it could have been if only..... Usually, our fears demand sacrifice - the sacrifice of others. Our fears and anxieties trick us into thinking we are about to lose something if we don't gain control of the world around us. So out comes the hammer and spikes. Who can we - who must we - hang out to dry in order to save the day as we want it and think we deserve it. We all have our lists. It is like the banner hanging on the cross that said something like 'The King of the Jews' - a fearful and lame project manufactured by good religious and civic leaders - to keep up appearances and biases and divisions.

Who are you thinking about hammering? Who do you so fear you think you must deny them life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness because you are sold on the notion that they do not deserve that life, or, you don't see their lives unfolding as yours has done or failed to do? Fear has a way of making the world smell like shit. Oh, it really doesn't - okay maybe sometimes it does. When I think of that line of forgiveness from the cross, I imagine Jesus spreading that out over everyone - those who hammered - those who yelled - those who cried - those who taunted - those who stood in silence - those who ran away. I think that's all of us.  So afraid to love without condition and welcome without exclusion and intercede without permission, we think nailing others to a cross will make us better - safer - holier. But, we don't know what we are doing - we have lost our capacity to be truly human - to let loose the Spirit of God's creativity that can inspire us to hang with those who we usually like to hammer. Fear. It makes us forget in whose image we all are created and therefore we can only imagine the threat at hand - like dog shit that could be in my shoe - but may never be.
TRRR

Sometimes the day at hand gets lost or ignored or is left for dead

At times, life can appear to be quite like Holy Saturday - waiting - not much going on.

It can be a day in which we think of yesterday or look forward to tomorrow.

It seems as though this is the way many folks go through life - looking back and looking forward.

On Holy Saturday, we are faced with the day at hand - that's about it baby.

I would like to suggest that it is not the worst place to be. Time in the tomb is time to rest. It is time to give up all of our grand plans as to how our lives should go or how we should change the world. Holy Saturday reminds me that creation continues - wonder still abides - grace transforms - hope tickles - peace prevails - and imagination abounds. Even when things are dead and gone.

Even within the silence of Holy Saturday I am reminded of this insight by Alan E. Lewis. He writes. No gap divides what God says from what God does and the stories of the coming kingdom do not offer dreams and possibilities of what the Lord might or could do, but speak indicatively, and in the present tense, of what is happening, and of what the future is becoming. The kingdom need not and cannot - be worked for; it may only be accepted and awaited. There is no silence - there is no inactivity - there is no darkness - there is no fruitlessness - there is no vengeance - there is no threat - there is no lying. There is only that step that is about to take place - that hand that is about to be offered - that gift that is about to be given - that act of mercy that is about to be extended - that forgiveness that heals the separated - that peace that passes all understanding. Though the day can seem hopeless - the day is full of hope. It is already full in that no day is outside the bounds of the power of God to bring about the fullness of our humanity even as it seems to be on a journey down the drain.

This is no day of victory. It is a day resting in truthfulness. As we are shut off from the powers that claim to bring life and breath to the world, we begin to notice that their breath really smells like death -it has a prevailing odor. It is one of those odors that once you smell it - you will be able to recognize it every day of your life. Death reeks even as it promises life or greatness or success or victory. Holy Saturday puts us right in the mix of death - face to face with death. From here, we learn that we are able to face death's power in all the days of our lives because we know that the peaceable Reign of God abounds in the present tense - even as it appears to be a tomb. Even though death uses slogans, propaganda, lies, and pompous wealth to sell its cheap wears, we are invited to take note of death's lack of truthfulness and face the dis-eases of death that tries to claim us and sicken us.

So as we wait in the tomb - as we quietly look around at death's claim to power - as we own the stillness around us, the power of death already begins to look less frightening for we know that this day - this fucking day of death and coldness and lies and deception - is really the day the Lord has made. Ha - you know, the day in which we are invited to rejoice and be glad in it - because that is how creation works - that is the power of God alive within this day. It is the power that keeps creating new life even when death is sowing its lies.
TRRR

Holy Weeks - Wholly engaged - A Wonder-filled Hallelujah

Entering Holy Week this year I'm finding myself entering into an ongoing reformation of how I look at the palms - the supper with friends - the betrayal - the condemnation - the execution/lynching - and yes, even the resurrection. I previously have written about my adventures in coming to grip with a spirituality as a life-practice/adventure.  Therefore, I wrote about this event.

The foundational story of this new understanding of my spirituality came in a news story in the New York Times that made its way across the country. It has become the way I now define urban spirituality and the spiritual journey that awaits all of us - just as we are and just where we are. Here‟s the story that has deepened my sense of God available within a life that is so ordinary and present I often forget to pause and be a part of its fullness. 

A fifty year old construction worker, Wesley Autrey, was standing on the platform of one of New York City’s subway stations. He had his four and six year old daughters with him. And then - in the twinkling of a moment - a young man, Cameron Hollopeter, fell to the subway platform during a seizure. Autrey and another woman went to his aid. Once Hollopeter seemed to be stabilized, he stood up but stumbled and fell off the platform and down onto the tracks. As the lights of an approaching train entered the far end of the station, Autrey jumped from the platform, pulled Hollipeter between the train tracks, and laid his body on top of Hollopeter’s. The train was not able to stop before it reached the two men. Several cars passed over them before the train finally did come to a stop. Those two men were in such tight quarters beneath the train that Autrey later showed people his wool hat that was stained with grease from the bottom side of the train. 

This in itself is an amazing story – it was news. And yet, the stream of life that was moving through that subway station in those intense moments was much deeper and overflowing than Autrey’s leap onto the tracks. The joy of God’s Reign was brilliantly shining through those moments of intense action and profound silence amid the cacophony of urban subway sounds. 

You see, in the moments of Hollopeter’s seizure and then the men wrestling down on the tracks and being pinned beneath the moving train, his two young girls were left up on the subway platform in the care of others - strangers. When the train finally came to a stop, Autrey yelled, “We’re okay. I’ve got two daughters up there. Let them know their father’s okay.” Not only did Autrey leap into the moment at hand in order to uphold and honor the life of another person, he expected that others would honor his children and would keep them safe. For that moment, the universe and all that is and will be - was blessed with the presence of the image of God alive in the flesh. The Reign of God breaks in and becomes incarnate among us no matter where we might be. Those who enter into the life of the Reign of God enter with the expectation that there will be others leaping into its life – the city of God was present in all its promise and saving power. 

Holy Week is now a reminder that we are invited to leap into the life in which we are already present. It is not waiting for a designated time or going to another place. Yes, it is  good to make plans as to when we will dive in and be with others to serve and to be served. We must also beware that between the times and places we plan to take part in the healing of humanity and the care of all we are walking and living and standing within the potential life of the Reign of God just by being human in the places at hand. Holy Week is full of Jesus' adventures of life in and around Jerusalem and the Temple and the Place of the Skull and the Empty Tomb - but that was his life all along the way. Life happened all around him. There were no agendas as to how he would engage the day. There was only the notion that he was a Child of God walking in the midst of life as it is everyday - but, within that notion, there emerged a life into which he willingly entered. Therefore, the moments of the Gospel stories are not fantastic, they are simply the ordinary made brilliant by his way of being engaged without hesitation - like Wesley Autrey leaping onto the track and expecting others to leap into the story at hand as people with a vision for the welfare of others. 

When I am not sure of what to do in the midst of the ordinary time of the Reign of God that is all around me, I hold three words very close to my heart. They were offered to me by a teacher and neighbor: Leland Elhard. Those words are: vulnerability - availability - mastery. 

The moment at hand longs for us to be vulnerable. It is the movement from being self-consumed and turned-in-on-self into a moment in which we drop our armor, let go of who we want to be or what others expect from us, and letting loose of everything - for the well-being of the other. That is for me a frightening move - even if all I do is merely consider the move and do no move. 

The moment at hand longs for us to be available. Take the steps - make the moves that are necessary for us to engage others. Availability can be celebration - it can be service - it can be that presence that is enough to heal - it can be the risky step, especially if it is into the life of a stranger.

Those moments in which we are able to be vulnerable and available we are in the midst of the Holy Weeks of our lives. In those moments, the way-things-are-supposed-to-go are not blindly followed. My new way of saying that to myself is I'll have none of that anymore. That is, the structures of the day that keep us from being fully alive within God's Reign must be ignored and I need to jump onto the track and lay my life on the line. Before you think that I do that or have ever done that (as I am still alive -and I am usually a coward), I want to refer back to Jesus' actions along the way - the hearings - the cast out of demons - the resistance to the reigning religious structures. Each small step - each action and word that disrupted the world as he was moving along the way - was one in which he was inspired to bow and bend in order to be wholly present to reshape the life in which he entered. 

Those moments in which vulnerability and availability come together in the times and places of ordinary life will at times reveal the mastery of life within the Reign of God. That mastery may look like a complete failure - a complete blunder - a complete misstep and miscalculation. It is usually called death on the cross. This mastery is not permanent - it is not lasting - it is easily turned into something else - usually a success story the promises that we never need to be vulnerable or available - or a story that promises personal security forevermore.

Too often, Holy Week and the Resurrection that follows, leads to no mastery at all. We embrace the story but never take it on as our own - in, with, and under this day at hand. Yet, when we see it breaking into the day, we are amazed -caught up in a moment of awe - drawn to tears. To see and hear and touch moments in which the Reign of God is demonstrated through lives vulnerably available for and with others - reveals the wonder of our humanity. Like Autrey leaping to be with Hollopeter, there was no calculation - no risk assessment. There is simply the life of God's Reign that pulls back the curtain of empty religious games and hands us another place and time to enter that which is often called eternal life. Hallelujah.

TRRR