What a Visitor at Church Gave to Me

Today, we had a visitor at church.

In and of itself, having a visitor isn't an unusual thing - we have visitors on many Sundays. The congregation tries to greet as many of them as they can, chats with them during the exchanging of the peace, and makes sure that they are included at the altar when it comes time to share in communion. What was unusual today, however, was what I got from this visitor.

It was obvious that he came from a difficult background, and after talking to him for a few minutes and learning a bit about him I couldn't help but think that much of what he owned was in the backpack that he brought in to church with him. He told me about having lived with someone who had more mental problems than he does, how it got to the point where he couldn't deal with it and had to leave, and how he often felt like he had gotten separated enough from church that he just couldn't go on. He didn't say where he was living or how he was getting by - although the answers to both of those questions seemed obvious just below the surface in what he wasn't saying - but he did tell me that he was hoping he would get something out of the service today. I responded by telling him that ours was a great church and that we were very glad to have him there with us.

Then there was a long pause, after which he looked at me and asked, "What do you find the hardest thing about being a Christian?"

I was floored. Here was a question that came from beyond left field, and it hit me such that I didn't have an immediate answer. Had it been anyone else, I might have tried to laugh it off or give a humorous answer just to get through the moment. But I could tell in looking at him that he wanted - he needed - an answer fror me. So I gave him the best one I could.

"The hardest thing for me in being a Christian is that I keep forgetting I don't have to do it all myself. I'm a diagnosed depressive, and it was hard for me to even get help for that because I'm 'the fixer': I'm the one who always tries to fix the problems my kids are having, or my wife is having, or my friends are having. I just can't seem to fix what's happening to me. Being in this church, though, I'm constantly reminded that I don't have to do it all myself, that there are others around to help. Most of all, being with these people is a reminder that that God is there to do things for us when we can't do them for ourselves, and puts others in our lives to help us. Even with that reminder, though, remembering that is the hardest thing for me."

I don't know whether that is what he expected to hear, wanted to hear, or needed to hear, but it was the answer I felt I should give him. Aside from greeting him again during the exchanging of the peace I didn't have a chance to speak to him - and I don't know whether he found what he was looking for when he visited us today. But regardless of what he may have gotten, he certainly gave quite a bit.

Dwight Eisenhower: Advocate for the Poor

Veterans Day is always a time where I surf the 'net for quotes from famous military figures and watch YouTube video of generals like Patton and MacArthur and Bradley. We shouldn't, of course, limit our remembrance of these men - and of every man and woman who has ever served in the military - to just this one day and Memorial Day, but the history and significance of November 11 is conducive to this sort of research.

As you've probably noted in my previous few entries, my attention has turned in a significant way towards much more social issues: homelessness, poverty, elections and the public welfare, etc. In looking through some military quotes this evening, I was stunned to find this quote from Dwight Eisenhower that ties those entries in to this Veterans Day: "Every gun that is made, every warship launched, every rocket fired, signifies in the final sense a theft from those who hunger and are not fed, those who are cold and are not clothed."

Eisenhower, the commander of Operation Overlord, Supreme Commander of the Allied Expeditionary Force in Europe, and later President, was one I never expected to discuss something as significant as military spending essentially being "a theft" from those who are living without. I, like many, tend to keep him in the military box - talking to the troops the day before the invasion of Normandy, developing the grand strategy for victory in Europe, setting the parameters for the army's involvement in the reconstruction of western Europe. Never did I imagine (partly attributable to a lack of having read enough about him) that he would boil our overwhelming defense spending down to the lowest - but certainly not least sigificant - common denominator.

My respect for him has certainly grown, and while his quote could be taken by some political types as justification for their current calls for a reduction in military spending (some of which has actually been carried out), I think it clearly - and surprisingly - demonstrates a much deeper and plainspoken concern for the poor in this country than I ever expected.

Homelessness - the Challenge. Now, What are You Prepared to Do?

Would Jesus Vote?

Today, as most everyone should know by now, is election day (and if you're reading this in Virginia, New Jersey, or New York's 23rd congressional district and have forgotten to go to the polls, you may still have time). At various points during the course of the day, I was engaged in (read as "started") several debates on whether today's results - no matter how they turned out - would be a referendum on the first ten months of the Obama Administration. The comments were lively, to say the least, and there was a lot of passion from all those who weighed in with their remarks.

At this point, you're probably thinking to yourself that I had limited this blog to discussions of faith and my family, and that I was leaving the political discourse on one of two other sites on which I comment (One Man's Politics and Two Rhodes Diverged). What will surprise you, though, is that faith is involved very much in this discussion.

How? Quite simply, I began to wonder whether Jesus - if he were here today - would vote.

The Gospels of Matthew (22:21), Mark (12:17) and Luke (20:25) all contain the story of Jesus speaking to a crowd and asking for a denarii, at which point he got them to name which person's likeness was shown on the coin. He then responded, "Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and to God the things that are God's." As Caesar was (in a very loose sense of the term) a politician supported by the Roman Senate, would the entire realm of politics and elections fall under that same division of "belongings"?

So if Jesus were here today, or if there were such a thing as the election of a Roman governor in the early years A.D., would he have voted, or would he have simply continued his ministry of social justice and the crusade to develop a sense of concern for the least of us by others in the population, and to heal and bring people to a knowledge of God and the imminence of His kingdom here on earth? I'll interject at this point that I first broached this question to a friend and priest to see what his initial thoughts were; his response was, "He couldn't vote... technically he couldn't register because he was from a Kingdom 'not of this world.'"

After giving me time to absorb the humor of that comment, he went on: "You could ask what the political process would look like in the Kingdom of God. I mean, if we're living with one foot in this world and another foot in the next (prevalent theological idea), one might ponder what God would want us to drag over from his Kingdom into ours. Our political system is flawed - and why? I think that it's because there's too much emphasis placed on "mine!" - and not enough emphasis placed on how we can band together and help 'respect the dignity of every human being.'"

So what would God want us to drag over from his kingdom into the one we have been told to prepare for here on earth (leaving aside, of course, the entire debate about whether Jesus himself was the personfication of that kingdom realized here)? One of the most serious attempts to show the role that religion can take in making informed political choices was undertaken by the group Sojourners in the lead-up to the 2004 election. You may recall that they issued a document with the headline "God is not a Republican. Or a Democrat." This paper, which was widely distributed around the country, laid out some key factors when considering which candidate to support on election day - and they are certainly relevant well beyond the Bush-Kerry election. In reading through this again, in Jim Wallis' God's Politics, I heard a 21st century version of the Beatitudes from the Sermon on the Mount. Here are the portions of the document that I think are particularly relevant today, with my own insertion of parts of Jesus' sermon:

We believe all candidates should be examined by measuring their policies against the complete range of Christian ethics and values.

We will measure the candidates by whether they enhance human life, human dignity, and human rights; whether they strengthen family life and protect children; whether they promote racial reconciliation and support gender equality; whether they serve peace and social justice; and whether they advance the common good rather than only individual, national, and special interests.

We are not single-issue voters.

We believe that poverty - caring for the poor and vulnerable - is a religious issue. Do the candidates' budget and tax policies reward the rich or show compassion for poor families? Do their foreign policies include fair trade and debt cancellation for the poorest countries? (Matthew 25:35-40, Isaiah 10:1-2) - Blessed are the poor, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

We believe that the environment - caring for God's earth - is a religious issue. Do the candidates' policies protect the creation or serve corporate interests that damage it? (Genesis 2:15, Psalm 24:1)

We believe that war - and our call to be peacemakers - is a religious issue. Do the candidates' policies pursue "wars of choice" or respect international law and cooperation in responding to real global threats? (Matthew 5:9) - Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called the sons of God.

We believe that truth-telling is a religious issue. Do the candidates tell the truth in justifying war and in other foreign and domestic policies? (John 8:32)

We believe that human rights - respecting the image of God in every person - is a religious issue. How do the candidates propose to change the attitudes and policies that led to the abuse and torture of Iraqi prisoners? (Genesis 1:27)

We believe that our response to terrorism is a religious issue. Do the candidates adopt the dangerous language of righteous empire in the war on terrorism and confuse the roles of God, church, and nation? Do the candidates see evil only in our enemies but never in our own policies? (Matthew 6:33, Proverbs 8:12-13 )

We believe that a consistent ethic of human life is a religious issue. Do the candidates' positions on abortion, capital punishment, euthanasia, weapons of mass destruction, HIV/AIDS-and other pandemics-and genocide around the world obey the biblical injunction to choose life? (Deuteronomy 30:19) - Blessed are the merciful, for they will obtain mercy.

We also admonish both parties and candidates to avoid the exploitation of religion or our congregations for partisan political purposes.

Looking back on all of this, and considering each of these points, I again asked myself: Would Jesus vote, or would he simply continue his ministry of social justice and the crusade to develop a sense of concern for the least of us by others in the population, and to heal and bring people to a knowledge of God and the imminence of His kingdom here on earth?

My conclusion? Both.

For you see, if you vote based on your faith and your convictions, you are doing your part to put others in a position who can contribute to the ministry of social justice. People who are in a position to better address our concerns for the poor, the persecuted, the sick, and all who suffer. For refugees, prisoners, and all who are in danger. And yes, even for our enemies and those who wish us harm.

I think there is a reason that Form V of the Prayers of the People in the Episcopal Book of Common Prayer has us pray for our church leaders and those in positions of public trust before praying for our fellow man. I think that if we vote based on all of the areas listed by Sojourners, we will have leaders who will truly work for the public good.

And so Jesus would vote - not because he has suddenly developed a political tilt, but because he recognizes that two or three, or a hundred, or a thousand, working for their fellow man can accomplish more than a single person.

One can change the world, yes - but think of how much change many could bring about. As Isaiah said, "They will not hunger or thirst, Nor will the scorching heat or sun strike them down; For He [US!] who has compassion on them will lead them And will guide them to springs of water."

Looking Into the Eyes of Christ

"You have heard some say, 'We don't need those people.' Well, Jesus is one of those people, and that is a great part of what it means for God to walk among us in human flesh." - Rt. Rev. Katharine Jefferts Schori, Address at Trinity University, July 8, 2008

In this second day of considering how to live up to the standard set by Jesus and become more involved in reaching out to our fellow man, this second quote from the Presiding Bishop hit me like a thunderbolt.

"Jesus is one of those people." A carpenter from the poor town of Nazareth who wandered around with twelve men, living among the fringes of early-1st century society, shunning any sort of wealth, living wherever he was welcomed - wherever he could find a place to sleep - wherever he could find a meal. In reading this quote, though, I don't wonder if the bishop hasn't put the emphasis on the wrong word.

Read it her way again. Now, read it this way: "Jesus is one of those people." The first way, a statement of condescension; the second, a surprising statement of fact.

In the past, as I've walked by those who sit in doorways, beg on street corners, drag their possessions up and down the sidewalks of the city - not knowing where they came from and really not caring where they are headed - I tend to not look. I glance away not because of nerves or a need to shut out the problem, but rather because a certain amount of cynicism has built up over the years: the man who came up to me to borrow money because his truck had broken down and he couldn't get home from work, only to approach me the very next day with the very same story before suddenly realizing I had heard it all before; the one who asked for money for a meal only to walk instead into the package story for a bottle of liquor; the stories in the paper of young girls who live under bridges and who trade sex for drugs. Each of these people needs help, but I can't do it all alone and I was frustrated with the results when I did.

In today's economy, though, things have changed - and have changed dramatically. No longer do you look into the eyes of a man or woman huddled in a doorway and simply see the alcohol-riddled shell of a person, or a runaway, or a person looking for their next fix. Instead, you now look into the eyes of an engineer who has been laid off, burned through his savings, and lost his home. You look into the eyes of a young mother with three children who doesn't know how she will find their next meal. You look into the eyes of an older professional who lost everything as a result of shady hedge funds and crooked brokers and who is too proud to ask for help.

The eyes of the people you see on the street now are far different and tell far more stories than simply the tales of drug addiction or drunkenness. The group of people crying out for help through their stares and sad glances is far broader than we in this country should ever have allowed.

Their faces are the face of the suffering Christ, the rejected and scorned Christ, the crucified Christ. The Christ who on Friday had no hope. It is up to us to help these people with the transition to the Sunday miracle. Can any of us do it alone? Of course not - but the bishop's words are a stark reminder that we need to try, for every face you see is a creation of God and is in the image of God. Peter denied Jesus three times and was still forgiven; how many more times must we deny those in need?

No longer is it enough for me to tithe and contribute to charities and go merrily on my way. I need to get involved, and show my daughters the true value of helping their neighbor and the true worth in every man, woman and child.

We have Millenium Development Goals - not Millenium Development Hopes. It's up to each of us to reach those goals and - again - live into the full stature of Christ.

A Crisis of Faith

Now that the title has grabbed your attention, I'll clarify and say that the crisis of faith - my faith - isn't with the having of faith. No, the crisis is of living out my faith in the world.

As someone who has been actively involved in the life of the last three churches I've attended - as a vestry member, a former youth leader, and a person keenly interested in organizing exciting and thought-provoking events and speakers - I'm always one of the ones encouraging others in the congregation to live outside the four walls of the church and to engage in the larger community. I once read that the people in the church aren't the ones who need help, but it's the ones outside the church who are in need; as such, I think it's important that congregations get more involved in the life of the larger area they serve.

Suggesting that people become more involved and actually becoming more involved are two different things, however, and I have fallen far short of realizing the mission that I'm encouraging others to undertake. In doing this, I'm also falling short of what it means to be an Episcopalian and a Christian.

In an address to the Urban Caucus in February 2007, Presiding Bishop Katharine Jefferts Schori talked at length about what we as Christians are tasked to do in the world. As she said, "That vision of a healed and restored world is what you and I are charged with being and doing in this world ... Jesus himself acts out those images in feeding the multitudes, healing the sick and urging the people around them to feed them and restore them to community ... The Millenium Development Goals are a contemporary illustration of the work that Jesus did himself - and of the work to which he continues to call his followers ... We would do well to recall that we cannot love God whom we do not see if we do not love our neighbors who we do see. The world is not reconciled as long as some live without - without food, good news, adequate housing, peace, clothing or justice ... The work of this church is to build a world of shalom ... adequate food, drink, housing, employment, health care, education, equality, and the peace that only comes when justice is present and available to all."

I talk a lot about what I see wrong in the world and what I think should be done to fix it. Jesus, however, didn't talk - he acted. If I don't start acting, I will never - as the Presiding Bishop wrote - live into the full stature of Christ. So why don't I act?

At this stage in my life, my mind (politics) and my heart (faith) are really coming into conflict with each other. As I wrote a few months back on this blog, my position on the death penalty changed when my belief that everyone should receive a New Testament forgiveness (heart) superceded - after much internal debate - my desire for harsh, Old Testament punishment (mind). Many of my friends and I have debated the current health care reform efforts in Congress, and I am torn between my belief that everyone should have health care coverage (heart) with the belief that the government shouldn't be the body responsible for running the program (mind). I am conflicted about the fact that something should be done to end world hunger, disease, and poverty (heart) versus the thought that we shouldn't leave it up to organizations like the United Nations (mind).

Does this make me a flawed Christian? Of course; there is no perfect Christian. Is it too late to change and become more actively involved? Of course not; it's never too late. But as I blogged quite a while back, there's a certain amount of cynicism that I must overcome - especially when it comes to confronting those on the street who approach me for help. It's easy to help those you don't see - the food banks and homeless shelters that solicit through the mail and receive assistance through my tithes at church. The difficulty comes in helping those right in front of you, and that's undoubtedly where I need help.

Again, I turned to the Presiding Bishop's words: "Give to everyone who begs from you, and lend expecting nothing in return ... none of what we have is really ours; it belongs to God and we are only stewards ... Don't give anything with strings attached, for those strings are a kind of shackle that binds the receiver and the giver. Give freely, and set the other free in turn."

All of this can actually be summed up as a series of two questions presented to us during the homily of a mid-day Eucharist I attended earlier today: “What is it that makes God concrete for you? What do you do to make God concrete for others?”

What makes God concrete for me is simple: my family, my friends, my health, and the activities in which I'm involved. But I have a long way to go if I'm going to make God concrete for others - and become a better, more effective Christian in the process.

Some Brief Thoughts on Prayer

These comments from the book Jesus Wept, by the Episcopal priest and writer Barbara Crafton, jumped out at me as I read them earlier and have given me a great deal about which to think. I feel certain they will for you as well."

We must begin by questioning the importance of words in our prayer. We are wedded to them, afraid of getting them wrong, irrationally afraid that if we pray for the wrong thing something terrible may happen ... We pray as if it were all up to us, when in fact, almost none of it is. We pray as if we were giving God treatment plans to follow, as if nothing could possibly work out well if we weren't there to plan it. We imagine that we must 'know what to pray for' in advance, and that we cannot pray if we don't. That if we cannot 'name it and claim it,' our prayers will be to no avail ... Often we do not know what should happen in a given situation. And sometimes we know that the things we long for cannot be ... We cannot look at prayer with an open mind and not conclude that, whatever else it may be, it isn't like placing an order at a pizza parlor ... God is in and around all of human history, absent from none of it. God is not a figure outside of our experience and in need of information about it. We don't really need to pray about anything; we're not in charge of much of what happens in the world. We can content ourselves with prayer from within it all.

Hubble, the Universe, and Our Place In It All

My only thought for today is to take a moment and just consider how grand is the universe we are fortunate enough to inhabit. All it takes is a quick look at these photos from the Hubble Telescope, which show the work of a true Creator and Master Artist...

In Honor of Woodstock: Hanging with the Opening Act

I missed Woodstock by about 8 months - and not as some would expect just because I didn't know it was going on and arrived late. No, it's because I wasn't born for several more months, and thus missed all of the fun. However, it ultimately wasn't a total loss, and in 1995 I had a chance to spend a few minutes with the festival's opening act, Richie Havens, just before he performed at the Rainbow Room in New York City. In short, he was a very nice guy.

This time, instead of being late for the festival, I'm going to actually be early for the anniversary and share this photograph.

The Henry Louis Gates Incident Shows There's Still Work to Do

REVISED - July 27, 2009. As more information comes out on this, I find that I have been guilty of the very thing that so many others do: I jumped to judgment on the circumstances of this incident. While I admit that this post was simply my musings on what had happened, I shouldn't have jumepd to certain conclusions below about the woman who called the police and the events surrounding this incident. So while I stated in the original posting that I expected more from the country, I should also expect more from myself.

ORIGINAL POST - Here we are, July 23, 2009, and I'm disappointed - for I expected more from our country.

Nine years into the 21st century, I was optimistic (perhaps naive is a better word) that we had finally turned the page on race relations in this country. With the election of President Obama in November of last year, I thought that perhaps the dream of such leaders as Martin Luther King and Frederick Douglass and W.E.B. DuBois was finally realized. If we could have a black president, perhaps things were in fact getting better, and the differences of our past were at long last being put aside.

And then we heard that distinguished Harvard professor Henry Louis Gates was arrested under very questionable circumstances, and my optimism was quickly tempered with a big dose of reality. Like millions of Americans, I wasn't there and can only rely on what I hear and read in the news, but it seems to me that misperception played a role in this incident from beginning to end. Someone saw a black man trying to get into a house, and they assumed he was a burglar. The police arrived and ultimately arrested someone who they astonishingly seemed to perceive as another angry black man - not a professor from Harvard, the rightful tenant of the home, and a resident of that particular Cambridge neighborhood.

Truthfully, I can't say that I would have reacted any differently than Professor Gates were I in his situation; if a policeman is standing in my house holding two different forms of identification proving that I live there - and yet I still am not believed - then I'm pretty sure I'd be angry as well. The difference is, sadly, that I don't think I as a white man would be arrested for yelling ("disorderly conduct," as the Cambridge police report reads). Granted, there should be a certain amount of discretion displayed by anyone dealing with a person who wears a gun on their hip, but this incident seems to strike me as absurd.

I'm impressed by what I've heard about how Professor Gates is responding to this: he will use the incident as the impetus to explore the continuing difficulties for blacks in this country. To his credit, he will be putting this issue squarely back in the public spotlight so that we can continue to confront a national relationship that should be all rights be in much better shape than it is at this late date.

I've always admired the work Gates has done during his career, and the series of specials he has put together for PBS exploring the ancestry of famous men and women of black and Asian ancestry (he had just returned from China exploring the past of Yo Yo Ma when this occurred) has been first-rate. Despite the tragedy of what took place on a quiet Massachusetts street, I think he will turn this into another teaching tool - and it is a lesson to which we would all be well-served to pay attention, to consider, and to discuss in a very serious manner.