While I have heard a number of jokes about President Bush's lack of awareness about Guantanamo Bay, I can't understand how we can't respect each other's humanity. President Bush can claim that there are no human rights abuses in the world. He can claim this but what logical sense does this make when he choses to intervene for the sake of humanity? Justice, my ass. He may think that it was American genius that "eliminated" violations against Afghani women. That was never a reason for us to intervene and our troops did not change anything -- anymore than our policies. Instead, we seem to assume that we have the right answers to everything. We have the right nationality. We have the right religion. We have the right set of moral values. Hell, we even have God.
And somehow, this arrogance grants our patriotic brothers and sisters to reject the humanity of another. This is what is happening in Guantanamo Bay. How in the world can we assume that we have the right text? How can we know that we have the only vision of God? I've been told by too many Republicans that I should respect their beliefs. In a city where they are the minority, these GOPs feel oppressed. They meet in secret. They are bizarre. And yet, they want me to respect their beliefs. Sure, fine. You are entitled to your own opinions. But, my understanding of the gospel leads me to believe that anything that denies the humanity of another is sin. It would be a sin for me to not beiee that poverty should and will be eliminated. It is a sin if I do not work toward this change for the least of these. It is a sin tht I do not embrace every child of God -- no matter what nationality, race or creed -- as my sisters and brothers. It is a sin for me as it is for all of us.
CNN reports, "A U.S. military investigation has found four incidents in which guards at the Guantanamo Bay prison mishandled the Quran, but said that it was detainees who threw the Muslim holy book in the toilet." How can we disrespect another's belief? If we are to respect the Bible as God's sacred word, how can we disrespect the revelation of God in another form? Christians -- including myself -- don't always believe that the Bible is actually God's word. It is inspired by God, but not actually the literal word of God. This does not disregard the sacred nature of this text. This does not eliminate God's sacred revelation or erase the power of Jesus Christ. In Islam, Muhammed recoreded God's word as it came to him. It is God's literal word -- and even if we do not share the visions of God as Muhammed received them -- how can we flush anything holy down the toilet?
6.04.2005
6.03.2005
Writings on the wall
Yesterday, I was taking a walk through Riverside Park. It's a walk filled with detours and tunnels from construction and traffic flow (though that's not what one commonly imagines in a park). Somewhere around 79th Street, the word "FAITH" greeted me. It was scrawled across the interior of a tunnel. It may have been a girl's name. It may have been some young romantic longing for his or her love, Faith. Or maybe the artist's intention echoed my sentiment.
Greeting this word in a tunnel of New York, I was reminded of the wonders of life. I was reminded to continue to seek for new and extraordinary possibilities in perhaps unlikely places. I was reminded -- quite simply -- to always have faith.
Greeting this word in a tunnel of New York, I was reminded of the wonders of life. I was reminded to continue to seek for new and extraordinary possibilities in perhaps unlikely places. I was reminded -- quite simply -- to always have faith.
6.01.2005
No Easy Answers
I am entering into my last year of theological education before being launched into the world outside of these safe ivory towers that I presently call home. Perhaps this is true for any life experience, but I'm caught in this place where I feel like I should know more. I should have more experience. I should have righted more wrongs in the world. It's the impossible place of a justice-seeking overachiever. There is always something more to do. Entering into this last summer before the "real" world, I am filled with all of these questions of what I must do before I complete my seminary education. This is what primal screams are made of. What experiences do I need to be an effective pastor? What knowledge do I need to gain? And yet, it seems that these are questions that will fill my whole ministry. There will always be something new that God is doing. There will always be some new, creative and wondrous way to experience God. There will always be a new circumstance that challenges how we know God. Of course, I am bold and naive enough to believe that I can answer all of these questions in the next 12 months.
You should scream at that -- or perhaps laugh. Or maybe it is more appropriate to cry. That sort of cockiness doesn't make me any better than the pastors in the South and the Midwest that think that they have a monopoly on God. No one can really own God -- I don't care what you think about the filibuster. God can lead you. But, go back to the Bible. Let's look again at what prophecy looks like.
Anyhow, prophecy aside, I'm trying to understand where God is leading me. I'm trying to understand how I can say "Here I am Lord" like my man Isaiah. This past year, I was a Pastoral Associate at a church on the Upper East Side (which is a fancy way of saying that I was an intern). I completed my service to that community a month ago. Though I'm not sure if service is ever complete, I felt that God was leading me somewhere new. There was more of God's work that I had to experience. My prayer has lead me to believe that I was to focus on my studies in the next year -- this last year in seminary. But, God apparently had something else in mind as She steered me back to the Upper West Side. It wasn't something that I was looking for. But, I am keenly aware of my call to step out of the pews.
So yesterday I found myself at a second inteview for ministerial position at a church on the Upper West Side of our great city. I am not sure what I am looking for. It seems that this opportunity would be ideal. I could wax on and on about dream jobs -- as much as I could talk about an ideal church. I'm not sure that either of these things exist. I do know that there is something -- something that I hesitate to name -- about this church. I know that there is something about this position that delights and inspires me. But, does that mean that that is where God is leading me?
It doesn't answer my questions or clarify my confusion. It doesn't make the tough questions any easier to answer. I don't know where God is leading me. I'm not sure what will happen next year. I'm not sure what will happen tomorrow. I only know that I need to listen. I need to listen with my whole heart. Perhaps easy answers will emerge.
You should scream at that -- or perhaps laugh. Or maybe it is more appropriate to cry. That sort of cockiness doesn't make me any better than the pastors in the South and the Midwest that think that they have a monopoly on God. No one can really own God -- I don't care what you think about the filibuster. God can lead you. But, go back to the Bible. Let's look again at what prophecy looks like.
Anyhow, prophecy aside, I'm trying to understand where God is leading me. I'm trying to understand how I can say "Here I am Lord" like my man Isaiah. This past year, I was a Pastoral Associate at a church on the Upper East Side (which is a fancy way of saying that I was an intern). I completed my service to that community a month ago. Though I'm not sure if service is ever complete, I felt that God was leading me somewhere new. There was more of God's work that I had to experience. My prayer has lead me to believe that I was to focus on my studies in the next year -- this last year in seminary. But, God apparently had something else in mind as She steered me back to the Upper West Side. It wasn't something that I was looking for. But, I am keenly aware of my call to step out of the pews.
So yesterday I found myself at a second inteview for ministerial position at a church on the Upper West Side of our great city. I am not sure what I am looking for. It seems that this opportunity would be ideal. I could wax on and on about dream jobs -- as much as I could talk about an ideal church. I'm not sure that either of these things exist. I do know that there is something -- something that I hesitate to name -- about this church. I know that there is something about this position that delights and inspires me. But, does that mean that that is where God is leading me?
It doesn't answer my questions or clarify my confusion. It doesn't make the tough questions any easier to answer. I don't know where God is leading me. I'm not sure what will happen next year. I'm not sure what will happen tomorrow. I only know that I need to listen. I need to listen with my whole heart. Perhaps easy answers will emerge.
5.26.2005
Tongues -- not crosses -- of fire
Did you see this story on CNN today?
Cross burnings investigated in North Carolina
DURHAM, North Carolina (AP) -- Three large crosses were burned in separate spots around the city during a span of just over an hour, and yellow fliers with Ku Klux Klan sayings were found at one location, police said.
Read the whole story at http://www.cnn.com/2005/US/05/26/crosses.burned.ap/index.html.
Two weeks ago, we celebrated the season of Pentecost. After Easter, we move toward this celebration of the arrival of the Holy Spirit. In my home church, the confirmation kids become full members of the church. In countless churches, we move toward reaffirming our understanding of how the Spirit is present and working in our midst. On this Sunday -- and God-willing throughout the whole season -- we remember our unity as the disciples first experienced it some 2000 years ago. On this Sunday, where we understand each other in new and profound ways through the power of the Holy Spirit, we read the story as it first happended. For the lost, confused and bewildered disciples, it went like this:
When the day of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place. Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them.
Tongues of fire. Not crosses of fire. This story reminds us that no matter how many things that we think separate us, we are still linked. We are still connected. Seemed to be tongues of fire. But, we each got a little piece of that action. It rests on each of us. We all share in this weird experience that quite frankly could take 1001 shapes today. But, no matter how we tell the tsoyr in our present context, we are still "all together in one place."
And yet, there are some that want these tongues of fire to deny the humanity of others. How by the grace of God can this be? How in the world can it be that during this season -- after the prophetic witness of Martin Luther King Jr., Rosa Parks and Malcolm X in the civil rights movement -- that we can be burning crosses anywhere? We all play a part in this. I don't care if it happens on a church lawn or a junkyard. I don't care if it was the Klu Klux Klan or some teenagers that thought it might be funny. I care that we are not living into the season of Pentecost and cherishing each other while sharing our food, lives and love. The story is supposed to end where "All the believers were together and had everything in common." What in the world have we done wrong?
Cross burnings investigated in North Carolina
DURHAM, North Carolina (AP) -- Three large crosses were burned in separate spots around the city during a span of just over an hour, and yellow fliers with Ku Klux Klan sayings were found at one location, police said.
Read the whole story at http://www.cnn.com/2005/US/05/26/crosses.burned.ap/index.html.
Two weeks ago, we celebrated the season of Pentecost. After Easter, we move toward this celebration of the arrival of the Holy Spirit. In my home church, the confirmation kids become full members of the church. In countless churches, we move toward reaffirming our understanding of how the Spirit is present and working in our midst. On this Sunday -- and God-willing throughout the whole season -- we remember our unity as the disciples first experienced it some 2000 years ago. On this Sunday, where we understand each other in new and profound ways through the power of the Holy Spirit, we read the story as it first happended. For the lost, confused and bewildered disciples, it went like this:
When the day of Pentecost came, they were all together in one place. Suddenly a sound like the blowing of a violent wind came from heaven and filled the whole house where they were sitting. They saw what seemed to be tongues of fire that separated and came to rest on each of them.
Tongues of fire. Not crosses of fire. This story reminds us that no matter how many things that we think separate us, we are still linked. We are still connected. Seemed to be tongues of fire. But, we each got a little piece of that action. It rests on each of us. We all share in this weird experience that quite frankly could take 1001 shapes today. But, no matter how we tell the tsoyr in our present context, we are still "all together in one place."
And yet, there are some that want these tongues of fire to deny the humanity of others. How by the grace of God can this be? How in the world can it be that during this season -- after the prophetic witness of Martin Luther King Jr., Rosa Parks and Malcolm X in the civil rights movement -- that we can be burning crosses anywhere? We all play a part in this. I don't care if it happens on a church lawn or a junkyard. I don't care if it was the Klu Klux Klan or some teenagers that thought it might be funny. I care that we are not living into the season of Pentecost and cherishing each other while sharing our food, lives and love. The story is supposed to end where "All the believers were together and had everything in common." What in the world have we done wrong?
5.25.2005
Galatians 3:28
I really like artistic experiences that remind me -- and perhaps all of us -- about how we connected we are. Tonight, I saw Paul Haggis' Crash (http://www.crashfilm.com/) which accompolished this very thing. In the opening scene, we see only a shadow of a man's face as he talks about living in L.A. where glass and metal separate people. He reflects that this lack of connection -- this lack of touch -- propels people to crash into each other so that perhaps this is a film about auto safety or road rage. And yet, that's not enough. For a film that dares to critique our social systems (to the glory of God), there are many things that this film could be about of which racism, gun control and sexism would only scratch the surface.
But, what fascinates me is this concept of barriers. What are these barriers? Are they limited to glass and metal? Or do we continue to construct them ourselves from intangible materials? Hate seems to be one of these primary building materials. We build walls to divide ourselves from our fellow humanity from hate. I'm not sure what hate is. Haggis seems to infer that this leads to racial divides. But, I can't get over the fact that so much of this hate stems from ignorance. No, that's not true. Some of it is. The ridiculous statements we make about Blacks, Mexicans and "China-men" are partially ignorant. But, some of it is fear as so much of who we are comes from some deeper, darker fear we dare not name. And still some of it comes from lack of relationship. There is no touch. So, do we crash into each other?
I'm overjoyed to see a filmmaker wrestle with the images of Middle Eastern culture post-9/11. I'm still sick from the violence of this ignorance hatred that has been perpetrated before and after the attacks on the Twin Towers. It's refreshing to not see images of war as the "crash" that causes us to wrestle with our understanding of our fellow humanity. And yet, I wonder how we are touched. Does this require physical contact? Or can one be touched by a child? Obviously, this is possible. And yet, I pray to the dear Lord above that true touch can be found in the young as well as the old. Children bring us wonderful moments of peace but to see a child and be touched while trying to kill her father seems a tad problematic. Can we not be touched by all of God's creation? Does it really take a violent crash -- an accident, a gun shot, a verbal assault, a sexual violation -- to begin to realize that we are all connected?
But, clearly, we don't get it. We just continue to crash into each other. Our Christian narrative is testament to this. We have made so many people into the other -- the ones that didn't get it. We've led crusades and inquisitions to only continue this violent crash proving that we don't get it. And here we are today, fighting more wars, forgetting about injustice in our own towns, and ignoring the plights of many in the Sudan, Indonesia and other far away lands. In her new book Plan B, Anne Lamott quips, Christians "speak in reverent terms of grace, justice, equality, mercy and then we despise people who are also created in God's image, who are Her children, too." Lamott wants us to love George W. -- but tonight, that's just too much for me. Instead, I want to wonder what his cabinet (as clearly they do Bible studies together) makes of Galatians 3:28.
The apostle Paul reminds us that these barriers -- these barriers that we have manged to build of our own hate, fear or ignorance don't actually exist. Instead, we all belong. In a Christian community, we all belong to Jesus Christ. But, this could be broadened. Don't we also all belong to God? Or more importantly, don't we all belong to each other? Not that we are our brother's or sister's keeper -- or at least not in the sense that this passage is typically exegeted -- but instead, we are all responsible for loving each other. Lamott reminds us that we must realize that we are all family. So why not sing along with Sister Sledge? Sing out and proudly. And please, sing with love.
But, what fascinates me is this concept of barriers. What are these barriers? Are they limited to glass and metal? Or do we continue to construct them ourselves from intangible materials? Hate seems to be one of these primary building materials. We build walls to divide ourselves from our fellow humanity from hate. I'm not sure what hate is. Haggis seems to infer that this leads to racial divides. But, I can't get over the fact that so much of this hate stems from ignorance. No, that's not true. Some of it is. The ridiculous statements we make about Blacks, Mexicans and "China-men" are partially ignorant. But, some of it is fear as so much of who we are comes from some deeper, darker fear we dare not name. And still some of it comes from lack of relationship. There is no touch. So, do we crash into each other?
I'm overjoyed to see a filmmaker wrestle with the images of Middle Eastern culture post-9/11. I'm still sick from the violence of this ignorance hatred that has been perpetrated before and after the attacks on the Twin Towers. It's refreshing to not see images of war as the "crash" that causes us to wrestle with our understanding of our fellow humanity. And yet, I wonder how we are touched. Does this require physical contact? Or can one be touched by a child? Obviously, this is possible. And yet, I pray to the dear Lord above that true touch can be found in the young as well as the old. Children bring us wonderful moments of peace but to see a child and be touched while trying to kill her father seems a tad problematic. Can we not be touched by all of God's creation? Does it really take a violent crash -- an accident, a gun shot, a verbal assault, a sexual violation -- to begin to realize that we are all connected?
But, clearly, we don't get it. We just continue to crash into each other. Our Christian narrative is testament to this. We have made so many people into the other -- the ones that didn't get it. We've led crusades and inquisitions to only continue this violent crash proving that we don't get it. And here we are today, fighting more wars, forgetting about injustice in our own towns, and ignoring the plights of many in the Sudan, Indonesia and other far away lands. In her new book Plan B, Anne Lamott quips, Christians "speak in reverent terms of grace, justice, equality, mercy and then we despise people who are also created in God's image, who are Her children, too." Lamott wants us to love George W. -- but tonight, that's just too much for me. Instead, I want to wonder what his cabinet (as clearly they do Bible studies together) makes of Galatians 3:28.
The apostle Paul reminds us that these barriers -- these barriers that we have manged to build of our own hate, fear or ignorance don't actually exist. Instead, we all belong. In a Christian community, we all belong to Jesus Christ. But, this could be broadened. Don't we also all belong to God? Or more importantly, don't we all belong to each other? Not that we are our brother's or sister's keeper -- or at least not in the sense that this passage is typically exegeted -- but instead, we are all responsible for loving each other. Lamott reminds us that we must realize that we are all family. So why not sing along with Sister Sledge? Sing out and proudly. And please, sing with love.
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