Pentecost

We had a Pentecost worship yesterday that was so good I decided, on the fly, not to preach the sermon I'd prepared. The spirit moved me to keep my mouth shut, because sometimes what has come before needs no more words. If I had preached, I would like to have begun with this cartoon! Then I might have said something like this:

Gathered in an upper room, huddled in fear, not knowing what to do next – when suddenly like the rush of a mighty wind, the Spirit blows through their midst and the disciples get pulled and pushed through fear and grief into the world to testify to the truth they have experienced in Jesus. And, you know, when the Spirit says speak, you’ve gotta talk right out loud. And so they do.

It is, it seems to me, only a small miracle that the disciples received the gift of such speech. The much larger miracle on Pentecost is that the people – at least many of them – were given ears to hear, such that each one heard the truth as if it were spoken directly into his or her experience, in his or her own language.

We have Peter’s speech, but we don’t really know exactly what else was said and heard, what truth was proclaimed and why it was understood. We had our own little Pentecost moment just now, and I don’t know why our readers chose the passages they did to share this morning. Would any of you care to share that?

What strikes me as authentically “Pentecostal” in this is that the words that were shared this morning were all written down at least two thousand years ago. It would seem quite obvious that they were not written with any of us in mind, yet they have been received as particularly meaningful, important truths in our lives. That is a gift of the Spirit; and it is a gift sorely lacking these days.

It seems particularly absent in our public life, although certainly not exclusively there. Like most of you, I have been following this year’s presidential primary season with a mix of deep interest and mind-numbing exhaustion.

This quadrennial opportunity for the nation to step back, take stock and consider the immediate future has, in this historic year, provided an unprecedented opportunity for our daughters to prophesy and our young men to see visions and even our old men to dream dreams, what with Senators Clinton, Obama and McCain. It’s kind of a “Joel” election moment.

Not to be confused with a “Joel Osteen – our best nation now” election moment, but rather a moment that the prophet Joel might have recognized as full of potential.

Alas, we seem dead set on missing what might have been a Pentecost moment in this election year.

One need not be a partisan to recognize the opportunity presented to the nation in this election, and one need not be a partisan to recognize the distinct and ancient patterns by which we continue to miss the opportunity. I’m not talking about the victory or defeat of any particular candidate, but rather the jointly missed opportunity to talk about the continuing legacy of America’s original sin of racism, the continuing stain of patriarchy, and the deferred dreams of immigrants who still stream to our shores.

With a black candidate, a woman candidate and a border-state candidate who has historically avoided xenophobia, the moment seemed right either for a “bar joke,” or for Pentecost, for some deeply held truths to be spoken and understood. Instead, our fear-filled politics-as-usual undermines the moment and, sadly, seem to be giving rise to ancient and ugly bigotry that is spilling over in all kinds of unexpected ways. We’re not even getting good jokes!

For example, I was reading an on-line commentary on the police investigation of a football player, the Indianapolis Colts’ receiver Marvin Harrison. The writer was suggesting that perhaps Harrison had made an error in judgment in owning a particularly rare and deadly firearm. The comments to the article were filled with the kind of ugly racism – Harrison happens to be African-American – that one rarely encounters in public places any more. The number of references to Sen. Obama and Jeremiah Wright in the comments on a sports story that had made no reference to anything remotely related to politics just jumped out at me.

I find it incredibly sad that a moment in our history that could be Pentecostal and filled with the hope and promise of reaching across historic barriers to open new avenues of understanding, is becoming instead, just another chance to beat one another over the head with our differences.

Why think of our politics in such terms?

Well, let’s consider the Pentecost story. What happens when the Spirit descends upon the disciples? The story tells us that “there were devout Jews from every nation under heaven living in Jerusalem. And at this sound the crowd gathered and was bewildered, because each one heard them speaking in the native language of each. Amazed and astonished, they asked, ‘Are not all these who are speaking Galileans? And how is it that we hear, each of us, in our own native language?”

Now, as often happens in public readings of this text, we left out the next couple of verses in our reading this morning because they include some tongue-twisters. But these place names, so foreign to our ears, are important.

“Parthians, Medes, Elamites, and residents of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pamphylia, Egypt and the parts of Libya belonging to Cyrene, and visitors from Rome, both Jews and proselytes, Cretans and Arabs—in our own languages we hear them speaking about God's deeds of power.’”

First of all, it’s clear that the author of Acts is deeply concerned with the politics of his moment, for the list of localities reads like a who’s who or where’s where of the Roman empire in the Holy Land. All of the significant players whose actions would determine the political fate of Israel are named. The story’s original audience could not have missed the implication: the first disciples were determined to speak the truth to power in all of its guises.

But here’s where the story gets interesting, and where our present moment so sadly misses the mark. The people were empowered to hear the truth, to hear the good news of the gospel, in their own language. The truth was not the private possession of a privileged few, but rather the gift of a generous spirit of compassion and love.

Sadly, in our particular moment, the public discourse is so degraded that no one is willing to give ear to the truth should anyone be brave enough to utter it in public. It’s gotten so that one might mistake this recent report in The Onion for something other than satire:

Dateline: NEW YORK—After Sen. Barack Obama's comments last week about what he typically eats for dinner were criticized by Sen. Hillary Clinton as being offensive to both herself and the American voters, the number of acceptable phrases presidential candidates can now say are officially down to four. "At the beginning of 2007 there were 38 things candidates could mention in public that wouldn't be considered damaging to their campaigns, but now they are mostly limited to 'Thank you all for coming,' and 'God bless America,'" ABC News chief Washington correspondent George Stephanopoulos said on Sunday's episode of This Week. "There would still be five phrases available to the candidates if the Obama camp hadn't accused Clinton of saying 'Glad to be here' with a little tinge of sarcasm during a stump speech in North Carolina." As of press time, the two additional phrases still considered appropriate for candidates are the often-quoted "These pancakes are great," and "Death to the infidels."[1]

Imagine, instead, that it was possible to speak the truth that we have just heard proclaimed, for example, “hear, O Israel …” and the subsequent reminders to that people that they had been delivered from captivity in Egypt by the mighty hand of God, and that, as a people themselves once foreigners in a foreign land that they should deal justly and generously with foreigners in their midst. Would not such a word, spoken in our context, be perhaps, at the very least, be suggestive with respect to the burning question of immigration?

Imagine that it was possible to encourage people, for example, “to consider the lilies of the field,” instead of urging folks to shop at Fields or Macys or Target or Wall Mart. Imagine that we might participate in some deeper economy than the consumer economy by which we have come to measure our worth.

Imagine that it was possible to say, “I lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my strength,” instead of promising a “strong America,” by which we must understand an empire which remains, as Martin Luther King said 40 years ago, the largest purveyor of violence in the world.

Instead, our would-be leaders say, “these pancakes are great!” and then their spin-meisters try to convince the rest of us that their candidate prefers all-American pancakes while the opposition probably dines on Belgian waffles or, worse yet, those un-American French crepes.

The miracle of Pentecost was not that the disciples were suddenly endowed with the gift of tongues with which to speak in many languages, but rather that the people were suddenly endowed with the capacity to hear the truth in their own language. Pentecost, thus, is about listening. About being still, and being open to the Spirit that we might hear the truth.

It is a moment that invites us to let go of the false distinctions between public and private truth, between political and personal, and to listen for truth in whatever context we find ourselves – especially, as was the case at Pentecost, when it is being spoken from unexpected quarters.

No powerfully placed member of the imperial establishment in Jerusalem would have expected to hear truth from poor Galileans. But the Spirit opened some of their hearts to hear just as it inspired the disciples to speak.

The same possibility must exist for us, now, if we will but let go of our rigid grip on the way things are in order to hear a word from God about the way things might be. This word, this truth, will come only from outside of the gates of power, for the powerful have deeply vested interest in maintaining the status quo.

Of course, if we are honest with ourselves, we realize that we are the powerful ones; we are the ones in need of transformation; we are the ones to whom the transformative good news comes first with the command, “repent.”

This is true whether we are talking about matters we think of as “political” or issues we think of as “personal.” This truth often requires of us that we listen with great care to those with whom we disagree.

One of the great pieces of wisdom I have learned over the years in community organizing circles is this: “opposition is information.”

Opposition is information. It does not mean that you are wrong, but it does mean you are not in possession of the whole truth.

In the church we miss this all the time over issues great and small. Opposition to simple changes of scenery or schedule mask much deeper fears of losing the past, of being forgotten, of dying. Opposition to larger changes – for example, ordination issues – often masks some of the same deep fears, and we do ourselves, our causes, our communities, and ourselves deep disservice when we continue to fight onward in the same old terms rather than listen for and tend to the deep personal fear and pain that are often at the root of opposition. Opposition is information, but we are too often so busy engaging the fight that we lose sight of the humanity of those who are opposing us – whether we’re talking about the sexual orientation of a candidate for ministry or the orientation of the pews in the sanctuary.

The miracle of Pentecost is that some folks were open to the gift of a generous Spirit offering them the opportunity to listen, to hear and to understand simple truth even when it was coming from the mouths of those who would have been perceived as opponents. May we open our hearts to receive that same gift today, and listen with generous spirits to those with whom we may disagree – whether our negotiations are with loved ones, with colleagues, with neighbors, or in the public square on the issues of the day. May the generous Spirit of Pentecost find a home in our hearts that we, too, might be generous with its love and justice.

---

[1] “Number Of Acceptable Things Candidates Can Say Now Down To Four,” The Onion, May 8, 2008, Issue 44•19

Chinatown in the Rain

Here's a poem for today ...
Unseeing eyes look out from a death mask
as an ancient Chinese woman
holds out her empty hand expectantly
... when I was hungry you fed me.
Smelling of subway, drink and filth
his hand -- 22 going on 90 --
thrusts storefront trinkets into a tattered coat
stealing a living
... when I was in prison you came to me.
Sirens scream past
hollow eyes follow the path
from boarding room windows
each pair to its own pane
... when I was alone you comforted me.
And arm in arm we walk to our car,
and check first to see
if the stereo is still there.

More Wright than Wrong

It’s nothing new to suggest that the coverage of the Rev. Jeremiah Wright is more than a bit colored by race, but the reflections bottomed out when Gary MacDougal’s essay in the Saturday Post brought victim blaming and racial stereotyping to new lows. Ignoring the long history of community development by Trinity United Church of Christ in the Southside of Chicago, MacDougal essentially blames the poverty and institutional racism that plague such communities on Wright and others who would dare to name them as such.

MacDougal asks where a “20-something black man, or other relatively uneducated young people” would get the idea that the American justice system might somehow be stacked against them. Where? Perhaps by looking around with eyes wide open. It doesn’t take Mr. MacDougal’s Harvard graduate degree to ask why almost 40 percent of the inmates in U.S. prisons are black, or why blacks are five times more likely to be in jail than whites, or why more than one in 10 young black men are in prison.

Perhaps the young inmate Mr. MacDougal spoke with displayed a lack of rhetorical subtlety and sophistication when he looked at all the black faces surrounding him and said, “this is white man’s genocide.” But when more than 80 percent of defendants in crack cocaine cases are black while two-thirds of crack users are white or Latino, is it any wonder that such charges might emerge from young black men? Moreover, when the black users of crack cocaine receive much harsher penalties than the white users of powder cocaine, a young black prisoner might be forgiven for rashly speculating that white folks “put us in here to keep us down.”

Do these facts of contemporary urban American life point to “perceived victimization” or to real patterns of institutional racism?

Mr. MacDougal is quick to let institutions off the hook, which is not surprising given his long-standing conservative credentials. Still, it is surprising that he should troll so easily in the turgid waters of racial stereotypes. Immediately after speculating that the “vitriol spewed by the Rev. Wrights of this world” teaches young people that the job market is stacked against them, he notes that the federal government spends “more than $10,000 per poor person for welfare.” The clear but unstated implication, given his context, is that “government welfare spending equals spending on poor black people.” Yet there are three times as many poor whites in the United States as there are poor blacks.

Why even bring this up if not to blame the poor for their poverty? Of course, Mr. MacDougal does not actually blame the poor for being poor. It is far easier to blame Jeremiah Wright and other religious leaders who have the temerity to name the present time for what it is.

One wonders, do all of the religious leaders in Appalachia, to take the white example most often counter posed to black urban poverty, preach that “God helps those who help themselves”? If so, it should be noted, they are not preaching from the Judeo-Christian Bible, where that oft-repeated line never appears. That sentiment emerges from the bible of the American Right which worships the god of the free market.

That god has tumbled just a bit of late, what with poverty rates growing not just in Rev. Wright’s neighborhood but across the country. Of course, when poverty increases in the United States, historically speaking, racial minorities take the hardest hit. During the most recent recession, black unemployment reached 10.8 percent; white unemployment peaked at 5.2 percent. Goldman Sachs estimates that national unemployment in the present recession will peak at 6.4 percent sometime in 2009. They predict that black unemployment will top out at 11 percent. Along with unemployment, we can expect that income disparities will increase, especially among the poorest black families. At the same time, we should expect to see social indicators associated with economic hardship, including rising crime rates.

Are these cold statistics and the realities they underscore the fault of Rev. Wright? Well, not even Mr. MacDougal suggests that, but he does point the finger of blame at Wright and his like for discouraging progress and individual responsibility.

One wonders: are the young people in Trinity’s job training seminars on interviewing techniques, job search strategies and dressing for success being discouraged more by what religious leaders teach or by the realities in the streets all around them? Of course, investigating that reality with genuine care is far more difficult than casting blame on an angry black man. It also makes for much less interesting media, which, perhaps more than anything else, explains why the Post wasted so many column inches on the ravings of a calm white man.

Milepost

Here's a poem for today, that I found while looking for something else:
She half smiled.
Leaning across the counter, she said,
"What, are you some kinda goddamned poet?"
And it meant, "move it, Jack"
as well as, "I wish I could move it, too."
And I moved ...
leaving her life behind
not moved, not touched
in the cold Nevada night.
I moved; she remained.
And we both dreamed.
And in our dreams we went our separate ways.

Allergies ... to War

I've been under the weather all week -- allergies, cold, who knows? The only good thing to come of such days is that about all I have energy for is watching movies, so I've caught up on a few good ones that came into the house months ago. This afternoon I watched the story of William Wilberforce, Amazing Grace. It struck me as I watched all the good and proper, and even faithful Englishmen of the time confidently defending the slave trade, that a movement to abolish war in our time probably seems every bit as unlikely and indefensible as the effort to abolish slavery did in Wilberforce's day. Yet I wonder if 200 years ... 300 years ... 500 years from now people will look back on us and say, "how did they have such moral blinders to that fundamental question?"

Christian Homeschoolers for Obama

I googled the phrase “Christian homeschoolers for Obama” today. No hits. There are “homeschoolers for Obam” and there are “Christians for Obama.” Indeed, there are “families for Obama,” and “Republicans for Obama,” even “Swedes for Obam,” but no “Christian homeschoolers for Obama.”

As a Christian family who homeschools one of our children (and who have cast occasional votes for Republicans and, perhaps, even for Swedes) and who now feel quite drawn to Obama’s vision, I’m struck by the disconnect. Oh, for sure, it’s not the lack of any organized group that strikes me, although when there are “Irish Americans for Obama” and Presbyterians for Obama,” and most any other group you can imagine, it does seem that perhaps some self-identifying Christians who homeschool kids might put out the idea. (On the other hand, there are not, as yet, any “Christian homeschoolers for McCain … or Clinton” either at this point.)

So, what’s the point of this silly exercise? Just that the slicing and dicing that we do to one another in the attempt to pin people down or put them in the correct box almost always fails to grasp the entirety of anyone’s faith or politics or life choices and decisions. It does violence to the wholeness and integrity of one's life.

To reduce all homeschoolers to the image of them as conservative Christians trying to protect their children from a debased culture suggests misses all the other families who may be trying to protect their children from the culture for decidedly nonconservative, non-Christian reasons, or who may simply be better suited to educate particular kids. To reduce all Christians to the media image of conservative evangelical similarly misses folks whose faith is just as dynamic and important but is expressed quite differently and may arise from different human responses to the experience of God. To reduce all Obama supporters to elite, latte liberals misses folks like the trucker I heard on the radio this morning. To reduce McCain and Clinton supporters to the caricatures the media broadcasts does the same violence to them, and, in the end we are all the poorer for it.

So, Christian homeschoolers for Obama take heart; it’s a big country with a big politics and there’s space for all of us!

In a much more erudite and fluent manner, Ched Myers addressed this same basic question years ago in Who Will Roll Away the Stone, when he wrote:

"The highly polarized public struggle over multiculturalism -- trivialized by the ideological right and by the popular press as 'political correctness' -- has ironically made it both easier and more difficult to be self-conscious about social location. It is easier because class, racial/ethnic, and gender identification is rightly expected as it becomes more widely accepted that such matters necessarily shape one's perspective. The presumption, for example, that a professional discursive community made up of predominantly white male theologians could speak for everyone in the church has, gratefully, been thoroughly discredited. It is more difficult, however, because identifying social location necessarily entails certain cultural, economic, and political generalizations that can easily degenerate into one-dimensional stereotypes of, worse, caricatures of one's own group or others. Nevertheless the task is a necessary one; theology, like other forms of public discourse, must come to terms with multicultural realities and the promise and problems of genuine social pluralism."

Obama's "bitter" remarks fell prey to the tendency to caricature groups; unfortunately, his critics on this score have tended also to fall prey to the tendency to caricature, as well. Thus, what might have been an opening to an important conversation has been erased.

April Witness

Sunday was the April witness at Lafayette Park. In the downpour a handful of hearty souls gathered to lift prayers for peace. The rain fell like a river of tears that cannot wash away the names of all those who have died. These Americans have fallen since our March gathering, and for each of them it is likely that 10 Iraqis died as well.

Michael D. Elledge, 41, Army Staff Sergeant, Mar 17, 2008 Brownsburg, Indiana

Christopher C. Simpson, 23, Army Specialist, Mar 17, 2008 Hampton, Virginia

Gregory D. Unruh, 28, Army Sergeant, Mar 19, 2008 Dickinson, Texas

Keith M. Maupin, 20, Army Sergeant, Mar 21, 2008 Batavia, Ohio

Tyler J. Smith, 22, Army Private 1st Class, Mar 21, 2008 Bethel, Maine

Thomas C. Ray, 40, Army National Guard Sergeant, Mar 22, 2008 Weaverville, North Carolina

David S. Stelmat, 27, Army National Guard Specialist, Mar 22, 2008 Littleton, New Hampshire

David B. Williams, 26, Army National Guard Sergeant, Mar 22, 2008 Tarboro, North Carolina

George Delgado, 21, Army Private, Mar 23, 2008 Palmdale, California

Andrew J. Habsieger, 22, Army Private 1st Class, Mar 23, 2008 Festus, Missouri

Christopher M. Hake, 26, Army Staff Sergeant, Mar 23, 2008 Enid, Oklahoma

Jose A. Rubio Hernandez, 24, Army Specialist, Mar 23, 2008 Mission, Texas

Joseph D. Gamboa, 34, Army Staff Sergeant, Mar 25, 2008 Yigo, Guam

Steven I. Candelo, 26, Army Corporal, Mar 26, 2008 Houston, Texas

Gregory B. Rundell, 21, Army Specialist, Mar 26, 2008 St. Paul, Not reported yet

Joshua A. Molina, 20, Army Specialist, Mar 27, 2008 Houston, Texas

Charles A. Jankowski, 24, Army Not reported yet, Mar 28, 2008 Panama City, Florida

Durrell L. Bennett, 22, Army Specialist, Mar 29, 2008 Spanaway, Washington

Jevon K. Jordan, 32, Army Sergeant, Mar 29, 2008 Norfolk, Virginia

Patrick J. Miller, 23, Army Private 1st Class, Mar 29, 2008 New Port Richey, Florida

Terrell W. Gilmore, 38, Army National Guard Sergeant, Mar 30, 2008 Baton Rouge, Louisiana

William G. Hall, 38, Marine Major, Mar 30, 2008 Seattle, Washington

Dayne D. Dhanoolal, 26, Army Sergeant, Mar 31, 2008 Brooklyn, New York

Travis L. Griffin, 27, Air Force Staff Sergeant, Apr 03, 2008 Dover, Delaware

Jeremiah E. McNeal, 23, Air National Guard Staff Sergeant, Apr 06, 2008 Norfolk, Virginia

Ulises Burgos-Cruz, 29, Army Captain, Apr 06, 2008 Not reported yet, Puerto Rico

Matthew T. Morris, 23, Army Specialist, Apr 06, 2008 Cedar Park, Texas

Shane D. Penley, 19, Army Private 1st Class, Apr 06, 2008 Sauk Village, Illinois

Stephen K. Scott, 54, Army Colonel, Apr 06, 2008 New Market, Alabama

Stuart A. Wolfer, 36, Army Major, Apr 06, 2008 Coral Springs, Florida

Emanuel Pickett, 34, Army National Guard Staff Sergeant, Apr 06, 2008 Teachey, North Carolina

Jason C. Kazarick, 30, Army Specialist, Apr 07, 2008 Oakmont, Pennsylvania

Michael T. Lilly, 23, Army Sergeant, Apr 07, 2008 Boise, Idaho

Timothy M. Smith, 25, Army Sergeant, Apr 07, 2008 South Lake Tahoe, California

Richard A. Vaughn, 22, Army Sergeant, Apr 07, 2008 San Diego, California

Jeffery L. Hartley, 25, Army Staff Sergeant, Apr 08, 2008 Hempstead, Texas

Mark E. Rosenberg, 32, Army Major, Apr 08, 2008 Miami Lakes, Florida

Anthony L. Capra, 31, Air Force Technical Sergeant, Apr 09, 2008 Hanford, California

Jesse A. Ault, 28, Army Sergeant, Apr 09, 2008 Dublin, Virginia

Jacob J. Fairbanks, 22, Army Specialist, Apr 09, 2008 Saint Paul, Minnesota

Jeremiah C. Hughes, 26, Army Specialist, Apr 09, 2008 Jacksonville, Florida

Shaun P. Tousha, 30, Army Sergeant, Apr 09, 2008 Hull, Texas

William E. Allmon, 25, Army Specialist, Apr 12, 2008 Ardmore, Oklahoma

Arturo Huerta-Cruz, 23, Army Specialist, Apr 14, 2008 Clearwater, Florida

Joseph A. Richard III, 27, Army Sergeant, Apr 14, 2008 Lafayette, Louisiana

Richard J. Nelson, 23, Marine Reserve Corporal, Apr 14, 2008 Racine, Wisconsin

Dean D. Opicka, 29, Marine Reserve Lance Corporal, Apr 14, 2008 Waukesha, Wisconsin

Jason L. Brown, 29, Army Staff Sergeant, Apr 17, 2008 Magnolia, Texas

Benjamin K. Brosh, 22, Army Specialist, Apr 18, 2008 Colorado Springs, Colorado

Lance O. Eakes, 25, Army Specialist, Apr 18, 2008 Apex, North Carolina

Cherie L. Morton, 40, Navy Petty Officer 1st Class, Apr 20, 2008 Bakersfield, California

Adrian M. Campos, 22, Navy Airman Apprentice, Apr 21, 2008 El Paso, Texas

Bitter?

So now Obama is in trouble for suggesting that a lot of folks in America are bitter about their lot in life. I’m not much concerned with the political fallout of his comments one way or the other, but I am amazed that so many folks would express so much surprise at the notion that folks might be bitter. After all, almost 90 percent of Americans rate the current economy no better than “fair,” and more than half rate it “poor,” according to recent polls. At the same time, according to another poll, more than half of the country thinks the decision to go to war in Iraq was wrong, and about half the country believes that troops should be withdrawn from Iraq as soon as possible. The results of the 2006 Congressional elections clearly underscored the public’s desire for an end to the war, but almost two years further on we seem no closer to an end than we were at the beginning. All of which is to say, when people feel economically at risk and politically powerless on issues as significant as war and peace, it would come as a surprise to find that folks were not “bitter.”

Whether or not that bitterness explains other political perspectives, as Obama suggested, is, of course, a far more complicated question. And whether or not it has anything to do with faith perspectives is even more complex. But bitter? I’d guess that’s the most polite term that could be used to describe the mood of lots of folks these days.

Cross ... Dressing

Well, if they attack Halloween then I suppose it's no surprise that some folks with too much time on their hands and too little humor in their hearts would find this troubling. It only bothers me that they should do so under the banner of Christianity. I mean, what would all those robe-wearing men of Jesus' time have done? But then, they put the cross in cross dressing.

Jeremiah Right ...

"God's wrath will go forth like fire, and burn with no one to quench it, because of the evil of your doings" ... hm, just wondering what would have happened if Jeremiah had been videotaped saying such things about the beloved mother country back in the day. Wonder if that sounded pretty much like "God damn Israel" to the folks who heard it? Just asking. Oh, I know, context is everything, but I bet old Jeremiah was a pretty wild looking guy, and a clip of him preaching about unquenchable fire would have played well on cable.

Happy Easter!

Just that -- more than enough for the day.

Neck Deep in the Big Muddy ...

We gathered again in Lafayette Park on Sunday to witness once more for peace. About 50 of us stood in a chill wind in the fading light and prayed and sang and recited the names of those Americans who have died in the weeks since our most recent witness in February.

It was Palm Sunday, and we recalled Jesus' response to the powers when they told him to shut up and keep his followers quiet, too. He said, "fine, but if we're quiet, the rocks will cry out loud." So we placed rocks at the gates of the White House to bear witness there in our absence and in the silence of so much of the broader church in the face of a war which condemns us all.

Five years in, and we remain up to our necks in the big sandbox, and the damn fool says push on.

Five years ago it was clear that the risks of attacking and occupying a country at the heart of the Arab world outweighed the risks of isolating and containing that country. Today that instability threatens to spill over in Iran and Turkey, oil prices top $100 per barrel and Osama remains out there somewhere releasing hate-filled videos and encouraging the desperate and fanatical. The war to bring peace, as President Bush called it five years ago, has turned into an occupation without end.

Five years ago it was clear that the war would divide this nation, and now we are more deeply divided than at any time since the end of Vietnam. On top of that, we are more isolated now from the rest of the world than at any point in my lifetime, and probably that of my parents as well going back 80 years.

Five years ago it was clear that the world’s desire for peace ought to balance the American empire’s desire for domination.

Five years ago it was clear that the greatness of a nation is not measured solely by its accomplishments. The moral greatness of a nation is measured by the means it employs to accomplish its purposes. History will judge us according to the death and destruction that we have rained down on Iraq.

The saddest part of it all is that none of this comes as any surprise. Indeed, I wrote most of this in the future tense five years ago. Sigh.

Obama and the Preacher

All I can say is, "I'm glad no one in my congregation is running for president!"

Everyday Theology

The District of Columbia’s 31-year-old gun restriction law is going to be tested before the Supreme Court soon, and I heard opposing sides on the radio offering perspectives yesterday. There was really nothing new under the sun on this argument, which has been going on in one form or another my entire life, but I was struck by a theological error voiced by a Cato Institute representative arguing against the restriction.

He was making the case that gun laws only strike at “good people who obey the laws.” I’ve heard this argument many times, and I’m enough of a Calvinist to ask, “who are these good people?”

Are they the ones who never break any laws? Not even traffic laws? Which leads me to wonder about the number of speed-related traffic fatalities compared to the number of gun-related deaths. A lot of good people break laws, and sometimes they kill other people when they do so. I don't know what the Framers would have thought about traffic laws as not even those most imaginative of them would have foreseen the Beltway. Of course, they probably also did not imagine AK-47s.

I’m not suggesting that the DC gun law is necessarily a good one, I’m simply pointing to a theologically flawed argument. I do think the Framers would have understood that.

Frustrations, to be sure

Well I thought I might experience a few frustrations encountering the police as crime victim and I was not disappointed after spending almost three hours waiting for someone to show up and take my statement so a formal report could be filed (and thus open the way to making an insurance claim). I finally had to give up and head home to pick up my daughter after school. I suppose I'll be back at it tomorrow.
At least I spent most of the waiting time today in the Lincoln Parlor at New York Avenue Presbyterian Church. The parlor includes Lincoln's handwritten original draft of a legislative proposal that eventually become the Emancipation Proclamation. Pondering the long wait for justice faced by the slaves did not make me any happier, but it did put me in my place with respect to my own little problems.
Moreover, considering Lincoln's actions and the long road to justice did and always will renew my own hopefulness. Frustrations, to be sure, will always arise along the way, but the arc of the moral universe bends toward justice (with or without a laptop).

Agitations and Response

Anonymous has been posting comments here for quite some time, and I have not responded. Perhaps that is a breach of hospitality.

On the other hand, perhaps it is a question of call. It is not so much that I disagree with him – and the aggressive tone of the posts leads me to this assumption about gender – on the question of abortion rights as it is that I do not feel centrally called to work there. I admire the clarity of calling that anonymous feels on the issue, and the persistence of his agitations, even though I disagree theologically and in terms of U.S. Constitutional law on the issue itself. I just do not share his passion, nor do I feel any great call to engage beyond a link to an interfaith statement on abortion rights that more or less aligns with my own perspective, and some statements of the Presbyterian Church General Assemblies over the years which also more or less align.

That does not mean that I do not support those doing work on the issue from the perspective with which I agree, it is rather an acknowledgment that I only have so much time. Beyond parish ministry and all that entails, the core callings of my life for a long time have been peacemaking and equal rights, particularly as pertains to my gay and lesbian brothers and sisters both in the church and broader civil society. These three – parish ministry, peacemaking, equality concerns – have been and will continue to be what I reflect on here. It seems enough to keep me busy and mostly out of trouble. Guests are welcome to comment on anything, of course. Anything less would be inhospitable. But if an argument about abortion is what you're looking for, I suggest looking elsewhere -- they're not hard to find.

Peacemaking in the Empire

So my laptop got stolen over the weekend, and I got arrested. Perhaps this is what happens when you try to be a peacemaker in the heart of the empire.

To be sure, the events were not related. The laptop walked away from the temporary offices of Christian Peace Witness for Iraq at New York Avenue Presbyterian Church sometime Saturday afternoon. By then I had already been, like a sport fish in a school of 42, caught and released by the U.S. Capitol police.

We were arrested Friday evening in the Hart Senate Office building where we had gathered to pray for peace in what the police deemed an illegal demonstration. Following a permitted interfaith witness in Upper Senate Park attended by 750 folks in a driving rain and led by a remarkable collection of folks including Rev. James Forbes, Rev. Michael Kinnamon, Rabbi Arthur Waskow and Dr. Sayyid Syeed, we processed up the sidewalk along Constitution Avenue to the Hart building.

Those of us risking arrest walked down the stairs into a small patio outside the glass doors. Police watched, photographed and filmed us, but made no move to arrest. Most of them were warm and dry inside the building and seemed to be thinking, “well, if those fools want to sing and pray in the rain, they can stay out there all night for all we care.”

After a half hour, we decided to move inside and join them.

We made our way through security, and 42 of us sat in a circle beneath the gigantic Calder sculpture that dominates the atrium. We prayed and sang, and sang, and sang some more – This Little Light of Mine, O Freedom, We Shall Overcome, Peace, Salaam, Shalom. Perhaps had we rehearsed more and sounded better the police would not have arrested us, but as we sang We Shall Not Be Moved, they moved in.

The Capitol police are an interesting institution. We worked for weeks prior to the event to arrange a permit for Upper Senate Park. They dragged their heels and dragged us through a tortuous bureaucratic maze before finally releasing the permit on Thursday afternoon, less than 24 hours before we were to begin the program. The permit included a stage and sound system, and the information that we included with the permit application detailed it all. Then, in the midst of the program, in the driving rain, the police informed us that the small tents over the stage and sound equipment would have to be removed. It was harassment, pure and simple. They had the power, and they were going to use it. We negotiated and stalled and speeded up the program and brought it to a conclusion before they pulled the plug on the electricity.

Then, the same police, as they arrested us, were incredibly humane and thoroughly professional.

I was among the last to be arrested, so I had the opportunity to watch the process unfold slowly. It was almost liturgical. As each of us was arrested, the arresting officer asked if we had any injuries. (In my case, a rotator cuff that causes serious pain when my right hand goes behind my back, led to being handcuffed in front of my body which allowed me to get to my cell phone while in the paddy wagon and take a couple of seruptitious pictures.) We have all been through nonviolence training, and in keeping with that spirit, each of us tried to connect with the human being on the other side of the line.

In a remarkable testimony to the power of nonviolence, such connections were made in many cases with the same police force that an hour earlier was threatening us. I was wearing a new, bright blue clerical shirt, and several of the officers were admiring the color as they stood with us waiting to load us into the wagons. When I recounted this later, my wife asked if we’d been arrested by the fashion police! Another young officer told me that he lives down in Fredericksburg, a long commute to DC, and uses his morning drive as prayer time. The woman in charge of the station where we were processed shared with us that when she retires in 18 months she fully expects to be joining us in pressing for peace and for an end to this war.

Small connections, to be sure. Nothing earth shattering or system changing, but small human connections that break down walls and barriers and begin to build common ground and community where mistrust and hostility reign.

Today I will engage the system again. This time as a crime victim, as I follow up on the theft of my laptop. I anticipate frustration, but I will look for connection. That is the way, these days, of peacemaking in the heart of the empire.

Being a Mocha Liberal Today

The peace witness is this week. Months of praying and planning, and now final frantic moments of last-minute details and waiting and wondering.
But the details are not dragging me down, nor are concerns about "numbers." First, because we are called to witness not to "success" -- whatever that might mean. But, more to the point, because it is an absolutely beautiful early spring day in the DC area. Sunny, mid-60s. Perfect weather for my first good bike ride in a long while, and, now, perfect weather for sitting in my favorite coffee shop, sipping iced mocha, and catching up on all the e-mail.
I will probably be quiet on the blog again for most of the week, but trust that the crush of this particular season of faith will lighten after these days of witness pass. Peace.

Latte Liberals?

At the Youngstown, Ohio rally following the recent Wisconsin primary, International Association of Machinists President Tom Buffenbarger called Obama supporters “latte-drinking, Prius-driving, Birkenstock-wearing, trust fund babies.” That reminded me of one of my favorite Ohio moments. A few years back I was stopped for gas at a Ravenna, Ohio gas station. Ravenna is one of those small rust-belt towns that the economy forgot. It’s been down-at-the-heel since I was a student at nearby Kent State in the late 70s and early 80s, and it shows no signs of recovering.
Anyway, I was pumping gas when a pick-up truck that had obviously been out “mudding” pulled into the pump right in front of me. One guy, in battered jeans and sweatshirt, got out to pump gas. His friend, similarly attired, hopped out and headed into the store. As he walked away, he shouted back over his shoulder, “hey, Bubba, want a cappuccino?”
So, I wonder today, if this cappuccino-sipping, work-boot wearing, pick-up truck driving guy and his friend are pondering the up-coming Ohio vote from the trucking view or the latte view?
Name calling, reductionist politics, will never move us beyond the mess we’re in. I think I’ll go have a mocha.

Witness for Peace

Last night, the interfaith peace witness in Lafayette Park gathered again in the twilight to remember the dead and to pray for an end to the killing. Rev. Madeleine Beard recited the names of all those American soldiers who have died since the last witness in January. It is a sobering reminder that the violence continues to take a terrible toll:

• Richard B. Burress, 25
• Jon M. Schoolcraft III, 26
• Justin R. Whiting, 27
• James M. Gluff, 20
• Michael R. Sturdivant, 20
• Tracy Renee Birkman, 41
• Duncan Charles Crookston, 19
• Robert J. Miller, 28
• Matthew Ryan Kahler, 29
• Mikeal W. Miller, 22
• Alan G. Rogers, 40
• James E. Craig, 26
• Gary W. Jeffries, 37
• Evan A. Marshall, 21
• Brandon A. Meyer, 20
• Joshua A.R. Young, 21
• Michael A. Norman, 36
• David E. Schultz, 25
• Matthew F. Straughter, 27
• Chad A. Barrett, 35
• Christopher J. West, 26
• Nathan H. Hardy, 29
• Michael E. Koch, 29
• Rafael Alicearivera, 30
• Miguel A. Baez, 32
• John C. Osmolski, 23
• Timothy R. Van Orman, 24
• Donald T. Tabb, 29
• Bradley J. Skelton, 40
• Luis A. Souffront, 25
• Michael T. Manibog, 31
• Timothy P. Martin, 27
• Jack T. Sweet, 19
• Jerald A. Whisenhunt, 32
• Corey E. Spates, 21
• Javares J. Washington, 27

These 37 now number among the more than 4,000 Americans killed in Iraq and Afghanistan. One more will be one more too many.
Here are three immediate opportunities to deepen your own involvement in the long struggle to build a culture of peace during an era of endless war. Please share them with anyone in your own networks who may be interested.

• Eleven months ago, 4,000 people of faith joined their voices in prayer and worship at the Washington National Cathedral for a Christian Peace Witness for Iraq that marked the fifth anniversary of the war in Iraq. We walked together three miles from the Cathedral to the White House to encircle it in the light of peace. More than 200 people were arrested that night as they knelt in prayer at the gates to the White House. Next month we mark the sixth anniversary of war in Iraq. More than 29,000 Americans have been wounded in combat, and we will likely mourn the 4,000th American death in March. More than 80,000 Iraqi civilians have died – more than one hundred already this week alone – and we are no closer to the peace that we long for than we were one year ago.

In the face of this human catastrophe, we must lift up an alternative vision for the future and press to make it a present reality. Responding to this call, people of faith from across the nation will come again to Washington March 6-8 to witness for peace and to call upon the people's representatives in Congress to act to end the occupation. As of this week, free registration for worship and for workshops is open at http://olivebranchinterfaith.org/

• If you live in the Metro area and would like to participate in a more intimate witness for peace, join the local interfaith witness as we mark our seventh month of vigils in Lafayette Park in front of the White House on Easter Sunday at 5:00 p.m. Join us in prayers for peace, and, at 4:15 p.m., for good conversation at the Cosi Coffee at 17th St. and Pennsylvania Avenue.

• Finally, wherever you live, if you are a leader in a Christian faith community, I invite you to visit the Pledge for Peace web site (http://pledgeforpeace.org/) and prayerfully consider signing this powerful document.

The time has come for people of faith to make our voices heard with renewed passion, commitment and clarity. The time for peace is at hand. Please join me to pray and act for peace.

Pledge for Peace

This pledge has just "gone live" at the link to the left. Please pass it along as you feel called. (There are apparently a few bugs in the software so not all signatures show up, but I'm told they are stored and will be shown soon. Such is technology.)

Because we follow the Prince of Peace, Jesus Christ, who promised that peacemakers shall be called the children of God,

We shall seek peace and pursue it.

Because God calls us to beat swords into plowshares and spears into pruning hooks until nation does not lift up sword against nation,

We shall seek peace and pursue it.

Because war violates the very foundation of our faith in God, who insists that genuine security is possible only when we love our enemies,

We shall seek peace and pursue it.

Because the occupation of Iraq breeds violence and despair and visits suffering on the most vulnerable Iraqis,

We shall seek peace and pursue it.

Because our faith teaches us to live in solidarity with the poor and the suffering and to share in God's boundless compassion and mercy,

We shall seek peace and pursue it.

Because war sows seeds of terror and undermines hope for future generations, and any attack on Iran will expand the present war in dangerous and unpredictable ways,

We shall seek peace and pursue it.

We follow Jesus, who taught by word and deed his conviction that we must show courage, love those of whom we are most afraid, and build right relationships across boundaries of suspicion and hostility.

Today we respond to Jesus' call as individuals formed by a tradition that strives to do justice and to speak the truth in love from the pulpit and from the center of the public square, even at personal risk.

Thus, I will do everything within my power to avoid complicity in acts of war that violate my fundamental beliefs. I pledge:

• To be a pastoral presence: I will witness to my faith as I work for peace and reconciliation where I see violence tear at the heart of my own community.
• To speak the prophetic word: I will speak boldly against the war on terror, the occupation of Iraq, and any proposal for aggression against another nation. In our divided nation, I refuse to demonize my fellow citizens with whom I disagree about these matters, but I refuse also to be silenced.
• To model the way of peace: I will learn the principles and practices of active nonviolence, taking and teaching classes and using those practices within the growing, faith-based movement to end the spiral of violence in the United States and around the world.

• To resist the powers and principalities:

  Through war tax-resistance: I will educate myself about war tax-resistance and share that information with others. As I am able, according to my own calling and conscience, I will with-hold all or a portion of my own taxes until I can be confident that the United States will seek peace through a combination of diplomacy and development together with other nations of the world.

  Through principled, nonviolent civil disobedience: In the event our government moves to attack Iran or another nation pre-emptively, I will participate in and encourage other to participate in acts of nonviolent civil disobedience, risking arrest, public trial and even prison witness to make clear my grave concern for the direction in which our leaders are taking our nation.

• To stand with the oppressed and afraid: I will reach out to those who are most at risk in the United States in this time of fear — Muslims, undocumented workers, immigrants - just as Jesus continually extended himself to the stranger and the outcast.
• To partner with those of other faith traditions: I will work with those of other faiths who make a similar pledge based on their own convictions. Together, we will break down barriers of fear, misunderstanding and mistrust.

With my signature, I commit to action and to personal sacrifice. I commit to live my faith boldly in the heart of the empire. I commit myself to follow the Prince of Peace.

The Elect and the Election

Just kidding about "the elect" part, but we do have an election in Virginia in a few days, or, at least a primary. Here in Northern Virginia we are getting a good dose of Democrats, of course. Hillary spoke at one of the Arlington high schools yesterday and Obama speaks at T.C. Williams, of Remember the Titans fame, on Sunday. No sight of McCain yet.
Elections are a great temptation for churches. To flirt with power is, as Jesus knew, a fundamental human temptation. The Lenten fast traces its roots back to the Biblical story of Jesus being tempted with just such power.
The temptation of the church is to align itself with a particular candidate or party as if the desired results of any election might bring about the coming of the kingdom. Of course, when it’s put that way it’s easy to dismiss the rhetoric, but too often religious leaders speak and act as if salvation depends upon voting right.
Of late, that has usually meant also voting Right.
Scripture, although thoroughly concerned with politics, clearly distrusts such alliances. As the psalmist put it,
Do not put your trust in princes,
in mortals, in whom there is no help.
When their breath departs, they return to the earth;
on that very day their plans perish.
If one does not put trust in the princes or princesses of any given moment, where does trust lie when it comes to exercising one’s democratic responsibilities as a person of faith? Surely it comes down to bringing core values and commitments into the decisions.
The issue that has been troubling me this week is torture. As the present Administration has been found to be less than truthful in its denials of using torture, the candidates for “next” have been forced to confront again a fundamental moral choice.
Here’s how the three leading candidates have said they would handle the proverbial “ticking time bomb” thought-experiment that asks, “would you approve the torture of someone with information about the bomb?”
John McCain: “Should [an interrogator use torture] and thereby save an American city or prevent another 9/11, authorities and the public would surely take this into account when judging his actions and recognize the extremely dire situation he confronted.”
Hillary Clinton: “Those are very rare, but if they occur, there has to be some lawful authority for pursuing it…. [If] we have sufficient basis to believe that there is something imminent, yeah, but then we’ve got to have a check and balance on that.”
Obama: ”The secret authorization of brutal interrogations is an outrageous betrayal of our core values, and a grave danger to our security … torture is not a part of the answer - it is a fundamental part of the problem…. Torture is how you create enemies, not how you defeat them. Torture is how you get bad information, not good intelligence. … When I am president America will … [stand] up to these deplorable tactics. When I am president we won’t work in secret to avoid honoring our laws and Constitution, we will be straight with the American people and true to our values.”
There are other issues and additional core values, to be sure, and final decisions are always a collection of judgments that add up to something we hope is more than a hunch, knowing that the coming of the kingdom does not rest on our decision.
Still, it seems to me that we bring our core faith values and convictions to bear precisely when we are called to judge such issues as this, and those judgments are our best guidance when election time comes around.

For Lent: Commit to Peace

Take on the Lenten discipline of peacemaking this year!
Last March thousands of Christians filled the Washington National Cathedral to pray and act for peace, and then processed to the White House to surround it with the light of Christ’s peace. One year later, the United States continues to occupy Iraq, so Christian Peace Witness for Iraq must continue to 'speak their peace' through worship and witness.
We invite you, your family, your congregation and your neighbors to come again to the nation's capitol from Thursday, March 6, 2008 through Monday, March 10 to speak the truth in love.
As people of faith and spiritual yearnings, we are called to such witness for peace and justice. At times, our faiths compel us to speak truth to power. This is the moment in which we must show the greatest possible resolve in rescuing the fundamental values of respect for life and dignity from those who offer empty promises leading to a downward spiral of militarism and domination. As Martin Luther King, Jr. said, “A time comes when silence is betrayal, and that time has come for us.”
Together we will fill houses of worship, remembering and learning anew the ways of the Prince of Peace. Then we will carry our public witness to the halls of government power, calling our leaders to embody values fundamental to the Christian tradition—and shared in other traditions—that truly make for communities of prosperity, security, and justice.
We need your help – your prayers, time, talents and financial donations.
On Friday, March 7, at noon people from across the United States will gather at more than a dozen different houses of worship and centers of faith on or near Capitol Hill to worship in each of our different traditions. Then at 2:30 p.m., we will come together for a mass public witness and demonstration against the war.
Please join us for this act of faith.
The world cries out for a common voice for peace from across religious traditions and paths.
Together we can end the war in Iraq and bring our troops home. Together we can stand against fear and violence, and live into a longing for wholeness that unites us across all boundaries. Together we can offer a path toward reconciliation. Together we can learn to build security through right relationships.
Communities and individuals of all religious traditions and spiritualities are invited to participate, so long as they share a common commitment to nonviolence, a positive vision of peace through justice, and a desire to witness through both worship and public action.
For further information on Christian Peace Witness for Iraq visit: http://www.christianpeacewitness.org/. To register go to: http://olivebranchinterfaith.org/.

Imagine 10,000 Feet of Hope

Dr. King reminded us that we are all “caught in an inescapable web of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly.” All of us are wounded by the war in Iraq, and we must work together to end it.

Whether or not you can come to Washington in March you can be part of the web of resistance by offering a strand of hope.

Here’s how: send or bring to Washington a six-foot length of light rope (multi-colored easy-tie clothesline is ideal). Attach to the rope ribbons or bands of cloth with your own hopes for a peaceful Iraq, your own prayers for peace, your own definitions of peace. Imagine something like Buddhist prayer flags.

Leave a foot at each end of your length of rope (so they can be tied together) and fill the remaining four feet. Please keep the ribbons or bands of cloth or prayer flags to two feet or shorter (so they can be carried without dragging the ground), and make them whatever width you like (keeping in mind that onlookers will want to be able read your hopes and prayers).

Let our common longing for peace bind us together in hope. Imagine 10,000 feet of hope.

Send your piece (to arrive by March 4) to:

10,000 Feet of Hope

c/o Clarendon Presbyterian Church

1305 N. Jackson St.

Arlington, VA 22201

State of the Union

Here’s to the state of the union! As we watched the president last night, the adults in the household played a small drinking game. We began the evening with a glass of wine and a commitment to watch as long as the glass lasted, taking a sip each time Mr. Bush said some version of these words: terror, security, freedom or democracy. We didn’t last long!
But we did last long enough to notice the rhetorical trope the president employed throughout the speech: “trust and empower” – as in “we must trust in the ability of free people to make wise decisions, and empower them to improve their lives and their futures.”
The president spoke often of trusting and empowering, and were it not for his evangelical Christian brand of conservatism one might have imagined that he had morphed into a libertarian with his focus on an idea of individual liberty that is opposed to any sense of corporate responsibility or commonwealth.
Whatever you think about various brands of conservatism, this picture of liberty lacks depth and focus when measured against background images that must include domestic wiretaps, Patriot Acts and waterboards.
Perhaps this time next year the state of the union will include a more creative mix balance of liberty and responsibility, of individual and community. I’d drink to that.

A Day of Some Grace

Another day, another opportunity to testify. Today it was back into the ongoing struggle over ordination issues in the church. Here are my remarks to National Capital Presbytery on the overture from Clarendon to delete G-6.0106b from the Book of Order:

... I want to raise two brief concerns.
First, some of you may question the timing of this overture given the Birmingham General Assembly's endorsement of the Peace, Unity and Purity Task Force report's call for a season of discernment. On the other hand, some of you may also say, "we've been discerning on these concerns for more than 30 years."
Wherever you find yourself on that, I think it's clear that we tend not to talk about these issues absent a moment of decision. After all, it's been two years now since the PUP task force issued its final report and 18 months since GA endorsed it. For the past 18 months there has been a great silence across the church, broken for the most part only when candidates for ordination are questioned on the floor of presbytery about their sex lives.
The time has come either to delete "b" or recast it in language more faithful to our Reformed heritage, for it is clearly failed legislation that has, for the past decade, undermined the peace, unity and purity of the church. It has done so in part because it has only ever been used to target gays and lesbians and never to cast a light on those of us who, for example, regularly fail to honor the Sabbath and keep it holy.
So to the question of timing I would say simply, the timing is right, for it is never the wrong time to correct an error, and it is always the right time to do justice.
Secondly, I raise a simple pastoral concern. Last month a young woman visited us for worship at Clarendon. She was among that highly desirable "young adult" demographic. At the door after worship when I greeted her she said, "I'd like to ask you a question."
I was intimidated, but I said, "fire away."
She told me that she'd checked out our website and noted our claim that "all are welcome." She wanted to know if it was true, as we claimed, that we "treat all Presbyterians equally without regard to sexual orientation" and include all members in the full life of the church.
I assured her that this was the case, and then she told me that she'd come to worship that morning on behalf of two friends -- a lesbian couple -- who were afraid that they would not be welcomed ... afraid that they would not be safe.
I was deeply saddened and also angered that a couple who obviously wanted to come to church would feel that they needed to send an emissary to see if they would be safe.
The toxic language of the present "b" ensures that millions of folks -- gay men, lesbian women, and their friends and loved ones -- will continue to eye with deep and well-grounded suspicion every church sign that says, "all are welcome," because the language in our constitution clearly tells them that some are not.
It is from deep theological conviction and deeper pastoral concern that I urge your support of this overture. The time has come.

The overture was endorsed on a voice vote and will go to General Assembly this spring. By a 60-40 margin, an additional overture that simply deletes G-6.0106b also was endorsed. A day, perhaps, of some grace.

King Day

King Day, 2008, falls in a season of hope and peace and dreams that are profoundly American – and a season of sadness and anger that we still live so far from the realization of those dreams.
Yesterday I gathered with a small group of hardy souls to continue our monthly witness for peace at Lafayette Park, across Pennsylvania Avenue from the White House. It was cold – 18 degrees – and as we sang “We Shall Overcome” our breath hung as frost in the January air.
As I walked to the park across the closed portion of roadway directly in front of the White House, I was struck again by a deep sense of gratitude for living in a country where one can gather in front of the elected executive’s home and lift a voice of protest. Listening this afternoon to a song that mentions Tiananmen Square reminds me of the privilege of living in a country that still has space for speaking truth to power -- and of the responsibility for doing so.
Oh, to be sure, I am just as cynical as any about the nature of this particular executive’s use and abuse of power, and I am deeply angry and saddened by the atmosphere of fear and paranoid security that surrounds my home city. As our witness moved toward its conclusion last evening I was summoned to speak with one of the guards because I held the permit for the witness. I sent back word that I’d respond when Fr. Joe Nangle was through praying. Joe prayed long enough that the officer had moved on to someone else, and I headed off into the night un-accosted – still full of the mix of hope and anger, sadness and dreams, and imagining a future otherwise.

A Future?

Years ago, when I worked for a short while on the Nuclear Freeze campaign, I recall the shock that a friend expressed when he learned that I was going to the Divinity School. “What’s a good progressive like you doing in a divinity school?” he wanted to know. I tried to explain that there was a tradition of progressive Christianity, but he had never encountered it. Most folks haven’t.
For most Americans, Christianity has become synonymous with a particular legalistic, conservative, evangelical movement whose vocal, media-savvy leaders are quick to condemn anyone who sees the world differently than they do.
Gays and other sexual minorities? An abomination. Women? Remain silent and “gracefully submissive,” in the words of the Southern Baptist Convention. Jews? In need of salvation. Feminists, lesbians, the ACLU, People for the American Way? Responsible for September 11, according to Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell.
At a meeting of conservative Presbyterians a while back, one speaker said that liberals were like bugs devouring the foundation of the church. He called for stomping as the appropriate response to such an infestation. I’m not sure, but I believe they broke into a spontaneous version of “Guide My Feet” at that point!
In the face of such attacks from some conservatives and such widespread ignorance from the population as a whole, we have to ask: is there a future for progressive Christianity?
Forty years back, Martin Luther King asked a similar question in his Letter from the Birmingham City Jail, lamenting a church drifting into irrelevance because it was too timid to address the pressing issues of the day.
Is it simply too late to ask again? Is it worth the effort?

Witness to a Dream

If these were silent, the stones themselves would cry out loud ...
Witness for peace at Lafayette Park in front of the White House. Sunday,
Jan. 20 , 5:00 p.m.
Witness for peace on the weekend that celebrates America’s foremost peacemaker. King reminded us: there comes a time to break silence. Now is such a time!
Join a liturgy of peacemaking including the laying of stones at the gates to the White House representing the Iraq War dead. Their voices have been silenced; the stones themselves will bear witness.
There comes a time to break silence
“Some of us who have already begun to break the silence of the night have found that the calling to speak is often a vocation of agony, but we must speak. We must speak with all the humility that is appropriate to our limited vision, but we must speak. ... Perhaps a new spirit is rising among us. If it is, let us trace its movement well and pray that our own inner being may be sensitive to its guidance, for we are deeply in need of a new way beyond the darkness that seems so close around us.”
-- Martin Luther King, Jr. “A Time to Break Silence”

Convened in continuation of the Christian Peace Witness for Iraq by DC Metro area clergy and laity. For more information see: http://www.christianpeacewitness.org/

Moving Mountains

The DC director of Greater Washington Interfaith Power and Light asked me to testify before the Virginia Corporation Commission concerning the licensing of the proposed Dominion Power coal-burning plant in Wise County, Va. GWIPL has been quite helpful to my congregation, so I was happy to return the favor by speaking against a proposal that runs counter to my denomination's stated positions on environmental justice, global warming and mountaintop removal. So here's what I offered the commission today in Richmond:
Thank you for providing this opportunity for public comment. I spent 10 years working in state government, and understand well the challenges of your work and appreciate its vital importance. The founding father of my own particular branch on the Christian family tree, John Calvin, said that public service is a sacred calling and it’s in that vein that I understand and honor the work that you do.
Honoring that work may be all that I have to offer you today. As a pastor, I cannot offer much by way of economic impact analysis – certainly nothing that you have not already heard and don’t already know better than I.
I cannot offer much by way of environmental impact analysis – certainly nothing that you have not already heard and don’t already know better than I.
I cannot offer much by way of political analysis either.
In fact, I cannot even offer you much that would be new to you in the way of moral analysis because you do not need me to teach you values.
The role of religious leaders in conversations such as today’s is nothing more than urging you to live up to those values that you already hold: to calculate economic impact in terms of the effect of your decisions on the most vulnerable, least powerful members of the community; to judge environmental impact in terms of the fundamental value of creation itself and humankind’s common charge to care for creation; to analyze political impacts not in terms of right or left but in terms of right or wrong.
You have no doubt already heard a staggering amount of factual analysis on this plant in all of those terms. So let me simply close with a brief story.
About a dozen years ago I spent a year offering some occasional assistance to a small congregation in the coal country of Eastern Kentucky. Once a month or so I drove 3.5 hours from Lexington to the tiny hamlet of Phelps to the Peter Creek Presbyterian Church that sat at the foot of Dick’s Knob. It was a long drive on a lot of windy mountain roads used by large coal trucks. Often it was a bit harrowing, and I was always relieved to cross the last ridge and see the shadow of the mountain crossing the face of the church.
It was a sight I came to expect and to take for granted, until the last time I made the drive. As I crossed the final ridge I noticed something different. The quality of light was different and I couldn’t quite figure out what it was. I looked up to see if the weather had changed unexpectedly, but that wasn’t it. Then I realized: Dick’s Knob was gone! The top of the mountain had been entirely removed.
Like some 300 mountaintops in the Appalachians, including in Wise County, the mountaintop was gone. Jesus said it would take only the faith of a mustard seed to remove a mountain; if he were here today he would suggest that just such faith can save the mountaintop from being removed.
That’s what we’re asking you for today: just a little faith. Faith in good-old fashioned American ingenuity that is creating more and better alternative energy sources every day; faith in our common will and commitment to becoming better stewards and more frugal consumers of energy; and keeping faith with our children as we work together to hand them a world that still has mountaintops.
When I drive through the Valley these days with my own children on our own trips down to the southern end of the Appalachians where I grew up, we stop frequently to enjoy the beauty of this commonwealth. I hope they make the same journey with my grandchildren some day, and I hope that I do not have to explain how it was that people of my generation had so little faith as to let the mountains be removed.

Happy New Year!

Good to be away for a while, and to be back at home.
Here's a poem/song for today that we used as an advent hymn:

Christ is Coming
(Tune: Hymn to Joy)
Christ is coming, light the candles
Open hearts, prepare the way
All creation, still in wonder
Longing for a Christ-filled day
Midst the darkness of despairing
From the bleak of wintertide,
Raise this light of expectation, joy and hope in us abide

Christ is coming, light the candles
Shine the light of justice here
Blind have vision, lame are leaping
Day of jubilee draw near
To the center of Christ’s circle
Every outcast welcome in
When compassion knows no limits
Everyone is kith and kin

Christ is coming, light the candles
Hope and joy and peace and love
Christ before us, Christ behind us
Christ beneath and Christ above
Invitation to this myst’ry
By God’s grace it knows no bounds
Light the Christ light in this season
Keep it lit the whole year round

(Feel free to pass it along to a music director near you. All I ask is that it be cited as "copyright 2007, David Ensign.")

Peace on Earth

Entitling a Christmas homily “Peace on Earth” in 2007 demonstrates either outrageous foolishness or audacious hope, for no matter where on earth you look these days peace is in short supply.
Of course, Gabriel’s announcement to Mary must have seemed outrageous, and the angel’s proclamation to the shepherds must have sounded foolish.
Just as Isaiah’s promise to the exiles that God was about to do a new thing, to create a new heaven and new earth.
Just as Moses’ claim that he was called to set his people free.
Just as Gandhi’s insistence that his people would be free.
Just as King’s dream of freedom and equality.
Just as Mother Theresa’s insistence, through all of her deep personal doubts, that the least of these has dignity and worth and deserves compassion and love.
Just as the insistence, today, that God desires shalom – peace on earth – sounds foolish and naïve in the face of the reality of strife and war.
I cannot help but recall the near-mythical Christmas Eve truce of 1914, when German and British troops called a halt to the nonsense of war for the Stille Nacht – the Silent Night of peace.
Is it too naïve to wonder – on this night – if one night of peace might stretch into a day, and if a single day might not extend to two, and if two … then three, and then another and another and another, and then still more until war is no more and nation shall not lift up sword against nation and neither shall they study war no more, and the angels’ proclamation from that first Christmas Eve becomes a description of our common life: peace on earth and goodwill to all of God’s children.
Sure, I recognize that many will say that this is naïve and unrealistic, and, of course, they would be right.
It is naïve and unrealistic – but so is the conviction that with each child is born anew the hope of the world.
Let down the fences and defenses that the culture builds around hope, and gather close round the manger. Listen for the songs of the angels. Peace on earth is their promise and our calling. It is before us … always before us –
… if we would but open our minds to conceive it, open our hands to receive it, open our hearts to believe it.
Peace on earth; good will to all.
This is our Christmas prayer.
Hope you and yours have a very Merry Christmas. No more from here till next year. Peace.

A Dark and Stormy Night ...

OK, so it was not a dark and stormy night, but it was a cold and windy one when a couple of dozen folks gathered last evening at Lafayette Park to witness to a common desire for peace.
My 16-year-old son, who attended his first peace demonstration in utero during the first Gulf war, graded last night’s witness a 7.5 on a scale of 10. The weather knocked a few points off for him, although it added something for me. He says, “that’s why you have multiple critics.”
He also chided me for “blowing the closing prayer.”
A few dozen tourists had come up while we were standing across Pennsylvania Avenue from the White House singing Silent Night, and Bud argued (well and rightly) that they didn’t know why we were there so it was a teachable moment that could have been seized by a prayer that blessed the stones we left on the sidewalk, and all those victims of the war represented by the stones, and, perhaps also the death of civil liberties here so perfectly represented last night by the closure of Pennsylvania Avenue that kept us from crossing to the White House fences due to some vague "security situation."
Instead, I wished folks “peace” and blessed them on their way through the cold and wind.
My colleague, Tara Spuhler, associate pastor at New York Avenue Presbyterian, led the worship last night and she reminded us of the transgenerational responsibilities to pass along the message of peace so that folks of her generation are drawn into movements for peace and justice and empowered there.
I do hope she felt empowered for her words were certainly filled with power, and I was reminded again of my own selfish reasons for continuing the witness. I am filled up by the experience. Last night was not a pleasant one to be out in, and I really did not want to leave the comfort of hearth and home – or couch and cocoa. I’m in the middle of a mild cold, so the couch was, indeed, enticing.
But since I am significantly to blame for this witness, I felt like I had to show up – besides that, I had the stones in the trunk of my car.
But Tara’s words, the wonderful music led by Meade Hannah from Our Lady Queen of Peace, and the opportunity to see a small but committed and ecumenical group of peacemakers refreshed my spirits and brought me closer to the spirit of Advent – the coming of the Prince of Peace.
That spirit, that power, that possibility and promise – that the peacemaker’s time is at hand – is why we witness. For in doing so we lift high that promise and place it in the center of the public square where it shines like an unquenchable flame, demanding attention as the powers and principalities shrink in the face of a fearfulness that they, themselves, unleashed upon the world.
Does the presence of 20 or 30 folks one evening a month standing in the dark in a park across the street from the White House make any difference? In the calculus of public policy probably not at all. But within the broader economy of the commonwealth of the beloved, that kingdom economy ruled by princes of peace and those anointed for the sake of compassion, the balance of power shifts when we witness.
And who knows, perhaps we are only a boffo closing prayer away from peace!
So, by way of do-over, my prayer is that we continue to witness, that we join our voices to the silent witness of the stones, that those in the way of this war find shelter and shalom, that wisdom prevail in places of power, that Advent hope sustain us through the dark winter of war, that the hopes and fears of all the years be met by God-with-us, and that each of you meet the new year full of the love that casts out all fear.

A Beautiful Day for Peace

I suppose every day could be a beautiful day for peace, but this is the day that we have been given and it's supposed to be partly cloudy and in the low 40s this afternoon: perfect weather for an Advent witness to the peace that God calls us to make. Hope to see you at Lafayette Park at 5:00 p.m.

Say It Ain't So ...

Actually, I'd more likely say, "why would you expect it to be any other way?" The Mitchell Report on the use of performance enhancing drugs in baseball, released yesterday, confirms what common sense should have told baseball fans for the past decade as aging stars defied the gravity of time to turn in record-shattering performances at ages when they should have been collecting retirement benefits.
It should not have taken a $100-million report to confirm what our eyes and experience were telling us. I'm certainly no professional athlete, but I am a 48-year-old hoopster who had a 30-inch vertical leap ... when I was 30 years old. The past 18 years have been a long, slow decline as muscles age and take longer to recover from running and jumping. Nothing at all unusual about that -- it is a universal experience. Why then the surprise from so many quarters when it is revealed that Roger Clemens' age-defying performances were helped along a bit by chemicals?
Could it be that baseball fans do not want to believe that the good ol' Texas boy (who happens to be white) would engage in the same kind of cheating of which the surly superstar Barry Bonds (who happens to be black) stands similarly accused? That comes as no surprise. What of the role of the players' union? That they are accused of aiding and abetting the steroid era is also no surprise. Nor is the role of the commissioner, nor his refusal yesterday to take any real responsibility. (He should resign if he truly wants to clear the decks for baseball to move forward, but that will never happen.)
The only surprising thing to me in all of this is the repeated defense of the teammates who knew and said nothing because they did not want to be accused of "ratting out another player."
I suppose I'm not so much surprised as I am left wondering. What is it about the truth that is so difficult to acknowledge or articulate? Not saying what is so won't make it not so ... even if you want to say it ain't so. If the truth will set you free, why do so many in baseball seem more bound to the recent past today than they did the day before yesterday? Perhaps you have to claim the truth before it can liberate you. Amidst all the denial, freedom seems a long way off.

An Agitation for Today

I am wondering, as I read in the Post about "what the Democrats knew and when they knew it" about rendition, torture, etc., if we need to be mindful of that dynamic in pressuring the Congress to act on the occupation? It seems to me that the Dems want to have it both ways -- criticize the president on Iraq while quietly supporting the worst aspects of the general war on terror. It is that general war without end that is the problem -- Iraq is but a symptom. Neither side in Congress has the vision or courage to address it. Moreover, the relative quiet in Iraq pulls energy from the antiwar movement -- unless it can be more clearly cast as a peace movement. As such, as a movement for peace, we cannot pull punches on the war on terror, and the recent revelations about Speaker Pelosi make that all the more clear and crucial.

American Heresies, Again

As the revelations about destroyed CIA torture tapes continue to unfold here in the heart of the empire we are being told again, by those in power, that Americans don't torture. "We're not like that," the powerful say -- and, one imagines, they want to believe it.
How are we, really? Many at home and abroad paint with too broad a brush in considering the torturers, the administration that guided their actions and the Democratic leadership that turned a blind eye on it all. While all of them stand complicit, much of the rhetoric of condemnation sounds a bit like Bruce Cockburn's haunting Rocket Launcher, from the 1980s Latin American war experience. Cockburn's words -- "if I had a rocket launcher, some son-of-a-bitch would die" -- stand as a signal expression of a perspective grounded on a fundamental theological error.
The heresy, shared by critics and defenders of American practices in the war on terror, denies both that all of us are created in the image of a loving God and also that all of us are broken.
The truth is, as the Biblical image of humanity makes clear, that each of us is some strange and volatile mixture of the angels of our better natures and our own profound brokenness.
We may not know anything about the spies who tortured or the officials who authorized them. Truth be told, we don't know that much about the President or the House Speaker, either. But about all of us, we do well to recall the words of the psalmist, “I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me. Against you, you alone, have I sinned, and done what is evil in your sight” (Psalm 51: 3-5). While in the very same moment we must remember also that the psalmist says, “I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made” (Psalm 139:14).
All of us, are both of these things: those who transgress, and those who are wonderfully made. And we live, all of us, somewhere east of Eden.
Dr. King said that we must develop the capacity to forgive, for without that we cannot claim the power to love. Forgiveness begins, he said, when we recognize that the evil actions of our enemies do not express all that our enemies are. “This simply means,” he said, “that there is some good in the worst of us and some evil in the best of us.”
That vision, which seeks as its goal forgiveness, reconciliation and restoration, stands in stark contrast with the notion, given voice by the leader of our nation, that we are engaged in a war to “rid the world of evil.”
Alas, as James Carroll said, “evil, whatever its primal source, resides, like a virus in its niche, in the human self. There is no ridding the world of evil for the simple fact that, shy of history’s end, there is no ridding the self of it.”
Indeed, the notion that this nation, or any nation – no matter how nobly conceived or dedicated – could of its own actions rid the world of evil is perhaps the fundamental heresy upon which so much of our current foreign policy rests.
We cannot rid the world of evil when we so clearly participate in it ourselves. We cannot; any more than we can bring justice to the world by means of an unjust war; any more than we can bring democracy to the world by means of a war that the vast majority of the world’s people oppose. And the further into the morass of this war we go, the more we become like the very thing we hate.
Some 35 years ago, Martin Luther King said that “a nation that continues year after year to spend more money on military defense than on programs of social uplift is approaching spiritual death.”
Lost amidst the news of destroyed videos and secret briefings is the spiraling cost of occupation.
It is not the job of the church to correct the state’s political and military strategies, but it is most certainly our job to correct errors of theology. It is also quite clearly our role to warn of the approach of spiritual death.
For, in this case, the two are so closely related. We lie and deceive ourselves at peril to our souls. We follow the false gods of power and security, and develop theologies of nationalism to honor them, and we wonder how it is that we become the very thing that we hate.
Theology matters. Show me your image of God, and I will show you your image of humanity. From those images of God and humanity grow the strategies of nations. And when those images are skewed by heresies, and those strategies perverted by false premises, from them develop the images that now dominate our news.
The church’s complacency in the midst of this is shattered – or should be – as we realize that amidst the howls of protest rising in response to recent revelations nowhere do we hear the voice of the one who said, “love one another as I have loved you.” Nowhere do we hear the voice of the one who said, “Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (Matt. 5:44). Nowhere do we hear the voice of the one who said, “Be compassionate as your Father in heaven is compassionate” (Luke 6:36).
It seems that in this season, the voice of the Prince of Peace should be heard again.

Theories of Representation

There's a fascinating little story unfolding in a congressional election in Memphis where a white man, Rep. Steve Cohen, replaced Rep. Harold Ford, Jr., when Ford ran for the U.S. Senate. Now Cohen faces Democratic primary opposition from an African-American woman who is, according to some progressive voices, less likely to represent the economic interests of the largely black and quite poor district. Cohen's voting record rated higher than Ford's on the report cards of the Congressional Black Caucus, and his positions on report card issues are consistently more aligned with the CBC than are his opponent's.
There's a strong gay-bashing undercurrent to the race, as well.
All of it makes me wonder about theories of democratic representation. Who can represent whom? Can a white man adequately represent the interests of black folk? Can a straight man adequately represent the interests of gay men? What of the interests of women? Children? Old folks? Muslims? Atheists? Rural folks? What of the interests that cross the lines of interest group politics?
Interesting.

Nightmares and Agitations

For some masochistic reason, as I propped up the ankle, I tuned in the local news.
In DC today it was dominated by the sad story of Sean Taylor, a professional football player for the team my son calls the "racist-skins." Taylor, an All Pro defensive player, was shot in his Miami home in the wee hours of Monday morning and died early this morning.
There is much to be agitated about in a story that draws together the violent world of professional football, the violent worlds of Miami and Washington, the violent world that so many young, African-American men live in, and the violence of America's continuing legacy of racism.
I can't get past the news descriptions that reported Taylor getting out of bed when he heard an intruder in the house and grabbing for the machete that he kept near his bed for protection. What kind of nightmare world is it where some folks have to sleep with machetes near their beds?
As one Post writer pointed out, whether or not most of us live in that world, it seems to attract more than its fair share of young athletes who too often fail to connect the dots of contexts and consequences.
More than a fair share of those young athletes are African-American men. Could there be some slight connection between that factoid and cultural blindness to such things as team names like Redskins, that trace back to America's original sin? There is, after all, a connection between contexts and consequences. Indeed, linguistic contexts have real-world consequences. In other words, words matter.
I don't expect any real reflections on such connections to come out of this sad death, but Taylor's father said he hoped his son's life was not in vain. If it sparks some deeper reflections on race and violence, perhaps his life and his violent death might have some deeper meaning than just another nightmare of a young black man murdered.

a simple twist of fate

I was out running this morning and hit an uneven piece of pavement hidden under fallen leaves. So now I’m sitting in the kitchen with ice on a mildly sprained ankle searching for the metaphor that must be hidden in this minor event. I’m sure it’s there, hidden just like the crack in the roadway, ready to tip the unsuspecting and unbalanced, to stretch the ligaments that bind us together, and to leave one sipping red wine while contemplating the hidden meanings in a single misstep. Oh, to hell with it. I’ll just sip the wine, wait for the other drugs to take effect and go read the comics.

Counting Blessings in Autumn

for teachers who point out abundance
in an Olive Garden world
for friends who offer light in the gathering gloom
-- even if it's only smoldering ash from a summer campfire
for small ones with smiles too big for their faces
for big brown eyes
and for dried tears
for the songs that connect the lines
and give rhythm to the heart
for maples and running water and even grey skies
for the woods in autumn when everything smells of death
for questions that do not demand answers
for memory
and forgetting
for you and me and us, waiting for spring