Wednesday, May 12, 2010
So who is responsible?
George Huguely is accused of murdering Yeardley Love on the campus of UVA, and the governor is exploring the options of reporting to avoid anything like this happening in the future. They are asking people, like in the Times Square bombing attempt, to report unusual behavior. But will that not turn us all against one another in the long run? Sell out on our anxiety in the cause of community and destroy community int he process...Hmmmmm.
Seems the system is broken. I think the plummetting trust in public government is a pretty clear sign that we think the system is broken, but the big question is, How is it broken? Tonya Craft was acquitted on 22 charges of child molestation in Georgia. She blames the system for going on a witch hunt, and the parents of the children who brought the allegations blame the system for not dishing out justice. Both are convinced the system is broken because of what it put them through.
There seems to be no sense of democracy, where if the law rules in a certain direction by public process, even though we don't like it, or maybe even don't believe it, we act by it. That tenuous balance between the good of the whole (government) and the rights of the individual (democracy) hold our souls in constant dynamic tension, but tension is never comfortable, and our anxiety often makes it feel unacceptable. So our system feels broken when it breaks us.
I find that I assume that the legal system is supposed to reveal the truth, and as Christ said, "you shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free," it will be obvious who is to blame and what to do about it. But we find that the courts are no better at determining the truth than most other institutions in our society. Perhaps Kierkegaard was right in saying that unless God reveals the truth to us in a life-changing encounter we cannot discover it for ourselves, because of our radical subjectivism. Revelation, then, is the source of truth...but even revelation needs "spinning" to make it applicable to life, and therein is the rub. So who is responsible?
You are. I am. We are. Thomas Jefferson said that this American experiment can only work if the general public is educated. Most of us are not. Oh, we hold degrees, but we don't think critically about life. We don't take responsibility for our own actions. We look for someone to blame and we elect people who will help us do that. This was Eve's sin, and Adam's and ours.
Move over Haliburton. Move over, Deepwater Horizon and BP, and governor and Craft and the others. We must take the stand, raise our hands and swear to tell ourselves the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, and then to hold ourselves accountable by it. Only then will we be truly free.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
On the failure of nerve
I saw an example of that on the news recently. Mayor Bloomberg of New York said of the car bomber that was thwarted (and I paraphrase,) "This is New York. If you go around worrying about what the next threat is it will paralyze this town. What do you want us to do, close the streets, close the subways?" That's not a failure of nerve, that's a call to have nerve. It was good to hear him say it.
On the other hand, Frank Graham has made a name for himself for voicing anti-Muslim rhetoric. If you just change the name of the god invoked he sounds eerily like those against whom he spouts. Here is someone who is capitalizing on our fear. Are extremist Muslims dangerous? Yes, of course they are. But are extremist Christians dangerous, too? Yes, of course they are. Why why throw stones to hide your hands? Both extremist positions are expressing anxiety without naming it or facing it, and giving people excuses to live out of their small selves rather than their larger (to use Christian terminology) redeemed selves.
Jesus calls us to love our enemies and do good to those who hate us. Friedman was a Jew, but he explains Jesus' words beautifully. It takes nerve to love one's enemies, it's just cowardly to spit at them from behind the wall.
Recently there has been documented an increasing movement on the part of parents to refuse to vaccinate children. That's not nerve, that's stupidity. The only losers there are the children who merely become repositories for deseases that have been largely contained. Nerve is the courage to do what's right, not what one happens to want.
Strange Christ
In Ecuador where I grew up they play a very peculiar form of Volleyball. They use a 9 foot net, a 40-foot court instead of 30, and a soccer ball, and they play 3 men on a team. It is a highly strategic game that is physically exhausting—and very popular. As a young man many times I stood at the sidelines hoping to be included on a team. I'm not known for my physical prowess, nor my athletic abilities, but I'd watched the game so much I figured I knew the basic strategies, and as one of Gringo descent, I had height on most of the people who would be playing with me. I was never chosen to play—until I figured out the way in. Inclusion was an economic thing. You had to wager an amount of money that you figured matched your ability to play.
What does it take to be included in God's family? The Church is very clear on its membership. Baptism in the name of the Trinity, with water, by another Christian is the basic rite of Christian initiation. Some churches require other things as well, but not the Episcopal Church. Over the centuries baptism has never been exclusive in this regard. During the times of persecution in the early church it was not always clear. More than once non-believing spectators, on seeing the faith and strength of the Christians, vaulted over the barriers and died with the Christians. The Church decided there were two kinds of baptism: Baptism by water, and baptism by fire. The penitent thief on the cross by Jesus was the first to be baptized by fire. Then there is the question of people like Abraham and Moses. Hebrews 11 teaches that God accepts them as well. And how about those to whom Jesus refers when He says, "I have sheep in other folds. I will bring them also so that there will be one flock, one shepherd." Inclusion in God's family is something God does. We get the privilege of detecting and recognizing it, but we certainly don't control it.
In today's Gospel lesson two clues are given to including the stranger: First of all, the Stranger is Christ. The 7 disciples who went fishing represent the perfect number. Since Simon Peter is with them this represents the Church. It's you and me out there just doing the work of the Kingdom. They catch nothing all night. Without a greater purpose our labor is futile, we're just keeping the lights on and paying the preacher. In the morning they see someone on the bank. They don't know who it is. He is the Stranger. They get instructions to change their tactics just a bit...hardly enough to make any difference, after all, these men know how to fish. But when they catch 153 big fish, such that their paltry capacities are sorely tested, suddenly they know who it is. There is only One who sent them to fish for the souls of men and women. There is only One who is Master of the Sea. The Stranger becomes the Friend.
For us, as well, the one who is a stranger bears the potential of being the very One we seek. Christ, hidden in an unknown person, may very well be standing ready to bless us in incredible ways. All we have to do is heed them...pay attention, get to know, look for the signs offered. Suddenly our daily grind becomes our daily bread. Doing Church becomes a way to find Christ. And when you find Christ in someone chances are that person will join you here.
Every person who walks through those doors that you do not know is Christ, waiting to be known. If you have come to meet with Christ, you most surely meet Him in the Sacrament, but the Sacrament represents US as well as Christ. It makes no sense at all to expect to meet Christ at the altar rail, but not in the Parish Hall. If you are eager to meet God here the person who you do not know is part of God's response.
Secondly, the Stranger is my brother or sister. Jesus stands on the beach with breakfast ready for the disciples. It's like old times again. Jesus is back at the helm. But what does Jesus spend the time doing? What follows is traditionally called, "The Reinstatement of Peter." He takes Peter, the one who betrayed Him three times, and three times He asks him, "Do you love me?" Each time Peter responds, "Lord, you know that I love you." And Jesus responds, "Feed my sheep, feed my lambs, feed my sheep." Peter is the spokesperson, the one who represents them all, he is "every disciple," He represents us, you and me. We, too, have betrayed Him, and we, too, are re-enlisted for service. He calls us to feed one another, to care for one another, to help one another, to teach one another, and to learn from one another. Become brothers and sisters. To include the stranger means to make them a brother or sister. Overcome the strangeness with hospitality. If the strangeness is due to lack of knowledge, then share and listen, if the strangeness is due to estrangement, then forgive and re-engage on a responsible level.
A while ago I visited a church in a distant city. For a number of reasons I did not wear clericals, in fact, I was dressed rather natty. I arrived on time, was duly greeted by the usher and the greeter, but before the service, during the peace, and afterwards, only one person spoke to me before I spoke to them, and then, only in a cursory way. I left the church not necessarily thinking that they didn't want me, but that they had no idea that I was there. I was invisible to them. How tragic, yet how common! Let us not miss one opportunity to include Christ in the life of the stranger among us, and let us not miss one opportunity to share with them the life of God's family.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Of Strangers and Friends
Easter 2, April 11, 2010, St. Christopher's Episcopal Church, Killeen, Rev. Paul Moore
Every one of us has had the situation occur where someone we thought we knew suddenly looks very strange to us. Kids grow up when we aren't looking, friendships mature into something they were not. Relationships shift and change, and sometimes, tragically, die or go sour. Or suddenly something about someone comes to light, and it shifts everything you knew about that person.
This is what happens to the Disciples in today's Gospel lesson. They knew Jesus was a great preacher and teacher, they knew He was a miracle-worker and a wonderful man. They might even remember Peter's words about Him being the Christ, the Son of God, but they didn't exactly know what that meant, I'm sure. And they had also seen Him die, they had wrapped his dead body in spiced linens, and they had laid His body in Joseph of Arimathea's new tomb. They knew what death was. Or did they? Now suddenly, He is not dead. He's got the marks of His death, but He is not dead. He's not a ghost, but He just appeared among them. Suddenly "Son of God" begins to take on new meanings that they had never even conceived of.
And this new, this resurrected Jesus invites them into something just as amazing and wonderful. "The Holy Spirit is now with you, and by my command you have the power to remit sins." If the product of sin is alienation, then remitting sin must reconcile. Redemption is intimately tied up with relationships, there's just no two ways about it. Remitting sins will shift relationships.
Now the power to remit them implies the opposite power, the power to retain them. You can cling to them, let them ruin relationships, let them destroy lives, let them alienate people who should be loving and serving one another, but you can also remit them, you can release people of the things that tie them down, you can free up relationships to heal and restore, you can renew lives and free them from what so drags them down, and you can give people the power and the energy to love and serve one another. It's just as big a miracle as Him suddenly standing among them.
Stop and think about it for a minute. Here is Jesus, suddenly become the stranger, inviting them into relationship on a strange and wonderful level, a level at which they have that great work of inviting the stranger into relationship with them and with God. Easter is God reaching out to us who have become strangers to Him, and then giving us the privilege of inviting other strangers into relationship with ourselves and with Him.
So who is the stranger now? There are those who have never been anything but strangers. You have never or barely met them, you know precious little about them. Some of them worship here every Sunday; some of them are new here each Sunday. Some of them are coworkers or neighbors. Some of them sit beside you in the airplane or in the public library. Some of them speak a language you don't know, and live a culture you don't understand. They have stories to tell. The stories are strangely like your stories, if you just stop and listen. They are stories of heartache and triumph, pain and pleasure. They are stories of hopes and dreams, of fears and failures.
Most of all, they are stories of God. Yes, they really are. At the root of every person is an untold dialog between themselves and their Creator, conscious or unconscious, it is there. Every love ultimately is the love of God; every pain is ultimately the pain of distance from God. Every good draws one near to God; every evil pushes away from God. Their stories tell of how this person has met, missed, misunderstood, dismissed, accepted, followed, worshiped, and mistrusted God. Just listen, you will hear. You will invite the stranger into the house of your own heart, and be amazed. And you will be blessed by the stranger.
Then there are those who have become strangers who once were not. You once knew them and now you don't. They may have just drifted away, life circumstances changed and the relationship could not continue as it was, perhaps one of you merely moved away. There may have been a rupture, a break-up of a romance, a divorce, an offense that has not been overcome, an outright malicious rejection, or even a death.
These people also have stories to tell. You know something of the story, because yours is the complementary story. You share something with them, and you always will. Because of the brokenness of the world, some people are best related to at a distance, not out of hurt or malice, but out of compassion and wisdom. Others will be an albatross around your neck until you are reconciled. Your story and their story fight for supremacy within you. The only peace is to die to the idea that only one story is true, and that the real story is the one told in Christ, in which both fit into a larger context. That context is reconciliation, the making of peace between those who have become alienated. What a powerful way to remit sins!
The gift of strangers is an opportunity to be like Christ; to invite them into your life; to open your heart to what they have to offer, and let them enrich your lives, as you enrich theirs. If there was a past relationship it will never be what it was...that's not the point. It is a new relationship now, and it can be greater because of the past. Our Easter faith calls us to believe that Heaven is greater than Eden, resurrection is greater than resuscitation; reconciliation is greater than innocence.
If there never was a past relationship then the alienation due to our limited living deserves to be overcome. Abundant living never happens alone, it always happens in the context of relationship. Inviting the stranger into your life is a great act of divine healing in our broken and ailing world.
However, some strangers are stranger than others. The above paragraph does not mean that some behaviors that strangers may exhibit are acceptable behaviors. Jesus says that the world will know that we are His disciples if we love one another. Sometimes love requires establishing healthy limits.
One such limit has to do with destructive behavior in the community. Some people just get upset and don't stop to think how their gossip or back-stabbing really does not show that we love one another. Some people find themselves out of power positions they were used to for what could be good reasons, but they find it hard to let go of the prestige they enjoyed or the influence they had, or the programs they ran, and end up, consciously or unconsciously trying to undermine or sabotage the next leadership. All these must be confronted lovingly but firmly in the context of the community of faith. It must be seen as the person confronted as an opportunity to grow, to let go of pride and forgive--perhaps themselves first.
Another limit has to do with people who truly cannot control certain destructive behaviors. The mentally ill or unstable often perpetrate horrendous abuse on others with little or no awareness, or if they have awareness at the time, it quickly fades and gets explained in plausible, albeit twisted justifications. People who are manic, paranoid, or who suffer from borderline personality disorder are often very difficult to deal with in this regard. The last case is the most difficult by far.
There's an excellent book on the subject of borderline personality disorder called I Hate You, Don't Leave Me, by Kreisman and Straus. In it they suggest an approach to dealing with people with this disorder that I have found works quite well with anyone who is especially anxious. They call it "SET" and it is an anacronym for elements in a short, succinct, but clear communication with them. The letters stand for:
S: Support. Communicate support, you're in their corner, you're trying to help.
E: Empathy. You know how they feel, you can tell them how distraught they are, how excited they are, how sad, how disturbed, whatever the emotion is.
T: Truth. Tell them in clear terms what the truth of the situation is. You can describe the effects of their behavior, your expectations for their behavior, or your intended course of action, especially if it hinges on their continued bad behavior. Explanations or justifications only muddy the waters, don't bother. Short, straight shooting and to the point.
Try it some time. I have, and it works. Nasty that we have to do this in churches, but sometimes the hard line is the most loving.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
The Great Welcome of God
Easter Day, April 4, 2010
St. Christopher's Episcopal Church, the Rev. Paul Moore
For the Christian this day has no equal for being a day of light and joy and peace. We talk about bunnies and chicks and Easter eggs, all cultural symbols for this day that over the years have had Christian interpretations overlaid on them. I am no exception. My symbol this year is my birthday present. She's just 10 weeks old, full of fun and energy, a Jack Russell Terrier pup named "DC" for "Dangerously Cute!" Her energy and enthusiasm is already challenging the status quo among my other dogs!
Our Easter Joy is, in a sense, a completion of the joy of Christmas. Christmas was the celebration of the birth of hope in the midst of winter's darkness. Easter is the fulfillment of that hope in the midst of the brokenness of our world. But perhaps we understand Easter best when we take on that particularly Anglican perspective of the Incarnation. Christmas is all about God coming to be with us, welcoming us, including us, being with us. There is in the Hispanic worldview a very important concept called "compaƱerismo." If you go to the store someone will jump up and say, "Te acompaƱo," or, "I'll accompany you." You should have to go alone, so I'll go with you so that you will have company. It is a radical desire for togetherness, inclusion, and validation. Christmas is all about God's accompanying us, joining us in our world, and transforming it by His presence.
That Christmas hope is brought to fulfillment at Easter. The great purpose of God joining us was to transform our world. Our world is broken, out of touch, alienated from God, its creator and sustainer. That's not as things should be, so God set out to do something about it. The first thing is to join us, the second thing is to set in motion those dynamics that will restore us. The end goal in mind is togetherness, inclusion, and validation. So both Christmas and Easter express God's radical desire to welcome back into fellowship those who had become strangers.
Those strangers are you and me, for because of our sin we alienated ourselves from Him. Yet He did not wait until we sought reconciliation, He provided it starting at Christmas and fulfilling it at Easter. Because of Easter we have the option of being reconciled with God, with one another and with the very creation itself.
If you find yourself far from God this day, for Easter's sake, He welcomes you back. Jesus said, "Where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I in the midst of them. There is no better place to seek reconciliation with God than in the Family of God. Here in the Body of Christ is everything you need, here for the asking. Be reconciled to God and know the full joy of Easter!
Reconciliation would not make much sense if it were only with God. We are reconciled with God so that we can be reconciled with one another. Who is it that has become a stranger to you? My eldest son since he was a very small child was one of those kids who "never knew a stranger." We had fears that he would walk up to just anyone and, without thinking twice about it, jump in a strange car and we would never see him again; not that the person might have malice in mind; we just knew our child would not know enough to be afraid! But perhaps he was showing us all how fearlessly God seeks to reconcile us with one another. If we are reconciled with God, what have we to fear? There is no personal hurt or rejection we might feel that He has not suffered ten-fold already, and still he seeks us out. Can we do less? Truth be told, most who are strangers would love to be reconciled of that strangeness and count us as friends. In fact, if we have become strangers to God through our sin, then you can flip the idea around and say that those who are strangers to you are Christ, reaching out to you through the strangeness. To reach out to them is to reach out to Christ. For Easter's sake, be reconciled with one another and know the full joy of Easter.
We are reconciled with God so that we can be reconciled with the rest of creation. When Adam and Eve were driven from the Garden of Eden the earth itself was cursed for Adam's sake. Food would only come at the expense of toil, and by the sweat of our brow we eat our daily bread. Yet never lost is the knowledge that even so our daily bread is a gift from heaven and not earned. In Romans chapter 8 St. Paul makes it abundantly clear that, as creation was subjected to decay on account of us, it will be renewed when our redemption is complete. Creation's redemption and ours are caught up in one great act of reconciliation. Therefore the earth and we are intimately linked; it is no stranger to our soul, for it is intimately tied up with who we are before God. If we feel distant it is because we are distant from God. Yet in Creation the very face of God is evident, His fingerprints are everywhere. Be reconciled with creation, then, and treat it as the sacred trust it is, and know the full joy of Easter!
Today we restore the great word of praise, "Alleluia" to our worship. Throughout the dark days of Lent we refrained from using this word. Its absence reminded us that we are alienated from God, from one another and from the earth, yet today we restore it because, by His great gift on this day, we are free to approach God and offer our praise. The earliest Christians developed a refrain which has come down to us through the ages as the ultimate shout of Easter triumph, of our reconciliation and restoration to who we truly are, as those who accompany God in that great act of reconciliation in the world. With them and with Christians of all times and places we exclaim:
Alleluia, Christ is risen!
He is risen indeed, alleluia!
"A ghost doesn't have flesh and bones, as you see that I have." Lk. 24:39.
Humanness
I don't doubt that Tiger was indeed, more honest and transparent. I got a hint of humility, though somewhat guarded on some questions. It's as if a hard crust of a persona he was projecting cracked, and the real Tiger finally stood up. Boy, how many of us can relate?
Hmm....we so often hear the words, "Oh, I'm sorry, please forgive me. I'm only human." Tiger's behavior beforehand was not "only human," it was hardly human. It was inhuman. It was broken and untrustworthy, and that's not part of being human, it's part of being broken.
Ironic, isn't it? You have to be broken of your brokenness in order to become human, and the media got something right for a change!
