What are you against?

I just saw a Facebook post asking people to join a group or like a page or whatever named "Anti-Republican."  Really, people?  When's the last time someone turned to you during a conversation and asked, "What are you against?"

I mean, why do we have to be against something?  Why not just state loudly and frequently what we are for?  It seems to me that just saying "I hate them. Let's kick them out." is not productive. Rather, if you really would rather see different people in office say, "Let's find more centrist people to fill that position."

At the of sounding Pollyanna-ish, I have learned that it is usually more helpful to come at an issue from the positive side.  Rather than reacting or pushing back against a policy or person we disagree with, name the positive options that we favor.  So, instead of being "Anti-Republican," a name which will automatically alienate any moderate or progressive members of that party, name what you are in favor of.

In truth, I learned this the hard way.  I found myself pushing back against a sense of apathy and worry about the future of our congregation.  I would say things like, "We're not dying.  Don't listen to the nay-sayers. There's still hope for us."  And yes, the congregation is getting smaller.  And yes, I worried, too - about the congregation, about my job, about the kids who come to our preschool and our teachers, about the folks who come here for food... So I would beg the folks not to give up, to hang on to hope.

Then I started paying closer attention to our church treasurer.  Because he is also an Elder he has the opportunity to give the offering invitation once a month.   He might name some emergency or unexpected expense that impacted our bank account.  He will usually mention one of the big expenses coming up, like property tax or workers comp insurance.   Then he will start praising the congregation.  "I don't know how we do it," he'll say.  "We keep having what we need to pay the bills and take care of emergencies.  We still send money to the Mission Fund.  You are the most generous people ever, and I thank you."  Most always he ends with the reminder that with God all things are possible.

When I really started listening to him, he helped me remember that I'm the one in the pulpit. Yes, there might be folks out in the parking lot whispering and worrying (and maybe even plotting!), but I'm the one in the pulpit. I'm not here to soothe their fears and worries for the future. I'm the one whose job it is to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.  I'm not just here to tell them about loving the neighbor and the work that needs to be done to end oppression in the world.  I'm the one whose job is to remind them of just how awesome our God really is.  And that everything  really is possible with God.

So . . . I changed my tune.  I started telling the congregation exactly how much they impact our community.  I lifted up their generosity and compassion for our neighbors. I thanked them for their hard work packing lunches for the hungry and going around the neighborhood handing them out.  I tell them how different we are from other congregations.  We are smaller than we were 10 years ago, yes.  But where most congregations who've been around 50 years or more are populated mostly by silver haired folks, we are getting younger!  There are new young families and couples who have come and gotten involved in mission and worship.  I told them that we now have an energy that's very different from before and that energy comes from God.  It results from our willingness to do whatever we can to serve our neighbor with love.

Then people started coming up to me saying, "I was worried about my little church, but not so much now.  Now I have hope.  I know that God can make a way where there is no way."

I don't know what the future holds any more than anyone else does, but I do know that just speaking against whatever worries or frightens or angers me isn't the solution.  The solution lies in naming the good potentialities and working toward them.  The solution lies not in arguing or defending or defeating, but in shifting the focus from negative to positive, from anti-whatever to for something.

So, to you Anti-Republican folks out there . . . I am absolutely in favor of finding leaders with a more centrist view of the world than some of the folks who are serving in government now, but I think some of them just might sit on the red side of the aisle.  Maybe you could re-think your name?

Is it better...?

I wonder about all sorts of things. Sometimes my wondering wanders into the world of worrying.  For example:

 Is it better to post numerous short pieces on my blog or wait until I have something essay-length to share?
   
My habit of late has been to make note of things I intend to write more about, usually on my phone or iPad.  I might have just an idea or as much as half a page of musing.  It might be a "this'll preach" moment or just some random observation.  The problem with this is that I almost never get around to "finishing" any of those pieces.  I usually don't even use the "this'll preach" bits in sermons.   I have dozens of these little gems stored as notes or in documents titled "blogishness".

It was easier to finish things when I was committed to contribute a piece every Tuesday on The Intersection, a social site for Disciples.  (That's members of the Christian Church (Disciples of  Christ), not the folks who followed Jesus around Judah and Galilee.). Or when I was more active in RevGalBlogPals.  Or, frankly, when I have any kind of deadline imposed by someone other than myself.

I am fairly certain it would be better for me if I were to practice the spiritual discipline of writing regularly in one place instead of having mini (unpublished) posts scattered all over my electronic devices.   I suspect my spiritual director - herself a writer of some note - would agree. I 'm just not very good at imposing this kind of discipline on myself.  Even titling this blog "Everyday Thinking" wasn't enough to motivate me.

(Quick, Maria.  Post this before you add it to your "to be finished" file.).   See what I mean?

Watch where you're pointing that.

Smile!

I love smiling at people. I especially love smiling at strangers. It costs me nothing and the return for something completely effortless is tremendous.

For example:  Today as I waited for a light to change so I could make the turn into Starbucks for my daily green tea a rather glum looking man started walking across the intersection.  Having nothing better to do at the time I watched him as he walked.  When he got in front of my car he happened to glance over, saw me smiling and smiled back.  His face lit up.  His whole body straightened.  He looked like a different man entirely when he was smiling.

Sometimes I wonder if my smile will get passed along later. It's ok if it doesn't, of course.  Just the thought that it brightened one moment for one person is enough for me to float on for a while.

Gotta go now.  There are people out there needing to be smiled at.

What do you keep?

I looked into each room I passed on my way to lead Sunday worship for the Health Care Unit.   Some of the rooms had two residents and some were singles.  Each had a bed or two and a window and some personal items softening the institutional feel of the room.  One or two looked to be fully furnished with antiques, but most had just one or two personal pieces of furniture and/or artwork.

As I walked down that hallway last Sunday I wondered how these ladies made the decision about what to keep and what to leave behind.  I knew that for many this was just the last of a number of events that required them to make this decision.  They were mostly widowed, mothers and grandmothers and great-grandmothers.  They had lived in homes large enough to hold families with children and pets until the nest was empty and it was time to downsize.  Some lived in smaller homes for while before retirement and time to downsize again, this time to move to a retirement home, perhaps in a community like this one.   Eventually the time came when they could no longer live on their own or even in assisted living, when they needed nursing care around the clock.  Time once more to downsize.

That decision had to be hard each time they had to ask themselves, "What do I keep and what do I leave behind?"  I remember when my mother moved from the family house to the retirement house and how hard that was for her.  I remember how she would pick up a precious memory and try to decide if there would be room for it in the new living space.  Some she picked up and put down repeatedly, simply unable to make up her mind until the very last moment before the movers came.  I can't even imagine what it must be like to have to decide which few items from a long and fruitful life I would keep with me until the end, in the room where I would live out my last days.  Which things were of the most value to my heart?  Which would give the most pleasure when my eyes fell upon it in the evening before I slept?  Which could I simply not live without?

It's been a bit like that in my faith journey.  Some, if not most, of the things I learned to believe as a child and young adult simply do not apply to my life today.  Some of them I've outgrown, like guardian angels.  Others I've rejected entirely as unloving, unmerciful and unjust - all the things God is not.  I have kept the beliefs that bring joy and peace, that stimulate my mind and soul, that bring me closer to God's kingdom, that make me want to seek ways to serve God and God's people.  As time goes by, as I learn new things about God and the world and myself, I find myself sorting through my beliefs again, leaving behind anything that doesn't conform to those two greatest commandments that Jesus left us with, ""You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.' This is the greatest and first commandment.  And a second is like it: "You shall love your neighbor as yourself.'" Matthew 22:37-39

ln the end the things that I choose to keep are the things that help me live toward God's beloved community; the knowledge of God's love, mercy, and compassion, God's passion for justice, and God's great desire for reconciliation between God's self and  all of God's creation.

They'll know we are Christian by . . . what was that again?

I read a post on a progressive blog today titled "Republicans aren't Christians."  For quite some time now some on the right have been writing articles titled "Liberals aren't Christian."  Really?  Is this really the position we want to take with each other?

It's time to stop all the finger pointing and name calling and hostility in the name of Christianity.  All of it flies in the face of what Jesus tried to teach us.  "Love your neighbor as you love yourself", he said.  "Love one another" he said.  And "Do not judge so that you may not be judged."

"Love one another" sounds pretty straightforward.  It means love one another.  It means care about the other, about their well being and about their feelings.  It doesn't mean agree with everything the other says, but it does mean show love for the other as a person.  It doesn't mean accept everything the other says as Capital T Truth but it does mean allow others to have their own opinions on matters of importance to them.  Love one another means having respect for the beliefs and opinions of the other.

"Do not judge sounds pretty" sounds pretty clear to me.  It says to me that I don't get to decide if your way is right or wrong.  If I believe that God has a preferential option for the poor and that therefore it is the role of government to care for all of its citizens, and you don't believe those things in the same way that I believe them - I don't get to say you are wrong and I am right.  That would be judging.  I can say I don't agree with you, but I don't get to call you names.  I can keep working and lobbying and praying for the result I desire . . . and so do you.  "Do not judge" means I need to believe that your opinions and beliefs are every bit as valuable as mine and vice versa.

Yes, I get frustrated when I see politicians putting the desires of people with money ahead of the needs of the poor.  But that has always been the way of the world. Politicians, business owners, even church leaders have always looked first to pleasing the folks with deep pockets and if there is anything left, scattering some crumbs for the poor.  True, not all politicians or CEOs or Church Leaders are like this.  We have a rich history of many good, honest men and women in leadership.  But too many are impressed by wealth and power.  This is human nature.  James even found it necessary to warn church leaders in his time against treating the rich with more respect than the poor (James 2:3-4).

I get even more frustrated when I see Christians, or people of any faith tradition trying to force others to comply with their own religious convictions.  It was to avoid that very thing that so many came to this country in the first place.  It was to keep that from ever happening here that religious freedom was written into our constitution.

If, for example,  I believe it is wrong for a Christian to do business on the Sabbath, then I don't do business on the Sabbath.  I don't try  to make you stop doing business. That's between you and your God. My responsibility is simply and always to obey God the best way I can.  I can certainly tell you what I believe and even why I believe it, but your choices are not for me to judge.  Your actions and stated beliefs might make me crazy, but I don't get to tell you that you aren't Christian because we disagree.

Here's the thing.  Love one another means I respect your beliefs and choices, even especially when I do not agree with you.  It means I speak respectfully to you and about you.  Do not judge means I avoid evaluating your beliefs, words and actions as right or wrong, better or worse when compared to my beliefs, words and actions.

Love one another.  Do not judge.  These are simple, easy to understand instructions.  These are also really, really difficult instructions to carry out.  It is not expected that we will do these things perfectly, for which I am grateful.  But it is expected that we will try.  We will give it our best shot.  If we fall, we get up and try again.  That's what is to be Christian.

The title question?  They'll know we are Christian by  . . .?
Answer:  They'll know we are Christian by  our love.  But you knew that.

Saturday thoughts or "off topic things that pop into my head while sermonizing"

(this piece was found in the middle of a sermon already in progress following some other random and off topic thoughts) 

. . . .   as long as I’m in sidebar mode, a bit about my process.  Obviously, I spend time during the week pulling books off my shelves and searching through them for ways to understand what I’m reading.  I spend possibly an equal amount of time on the internet doing pretty much the same thing, researching and chatting with other preachers about what on earth we’re going to do with this one.   Saturday morning I  set all the sources I plan to use on my desk and settle down in my home work space for the duration - that is, for as long as I can keep coming up with words that I think I can use.  All around me are other items that help me work - candles, books of prayers and stories, stones to hold while I think, something from Starbucks.  

Directly in front of me are quotes that I check often.  A couple of years ago a preacher named Lindsey posted this, which resonates with me every week:  “Trying to write a sermon on Luke...wishing I could be doing something else. It’s hard to write a sermon when you don’t know what the parable means.  That may be where I’m going with this:  that the Bible isn’t an instruction manual but an invitation to be in relationship with God.  Sometimes that means thinking some hard thoughts.”    Next to that is a quote from another preacher - one of the RevGalBlogPals, I think: “A good sermon is one-half of a passionate conversation . .  and a place to meet Jesus.”  And from Soren Kierkegaard, “When you read God’s word, you must constantly be saying to yourself, “it is talking to me, and about me.”   All of those help me focus or get back on track when I wander into sidebar land.  

Running through my mind the whole time is that line from the 19th Psalm that many preachers pray just before they begin their sermon on Sunday morning, “Let the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be pleasing to you, Lord, my rock and my salvation.”   I’m never quite sure why they pray these words before they read a manuscript.  I would think this prayer is most appropriately prayed before I start writing the manuscript.  Which, now that I think about it, probably shouldn’t be called a manuscript at all, as it is neither handwritten nor on paper, but synced to an iPad mini which I hold so I can “preach while walking around” and not get too sidetracked from the topic.

Some of what I write on Saturday shows up in my sermon on Sunday morning.  Some (like this piece) gets posted to my blog.  Some I file in my “miscellaneous writing” folder to flesh out later.  A lot of it just gets deleted.   And, as most of my congregation and friends already know, more often than not I’m up at 4 am on Sunday to re-write the entire thing because the Spirit has written something different on my heart overnight.  

Witness in the back of the church

I took the children for their Sunday school lesson this week while our intern preached. When we came back for the Lord’s Supper I sat quietly in the back row.  A few minutes later Robert, a recent addition to our church family, slid into the row in front of me. Just after he received the bread and cup another man came to sit with him.  The deacon also noticed the new arrival and came to serve him.   Robert said "I gave him mine."

Receiving bread and cup again Robert ate the bread and held the cup as we usually do.  Then a third man walked in and sat on the other side of Robert who told him, "You missed it, Pops, but here, take my cup so you can share that with everyone else."

I wept.

One Sunday morning several months ago David came to worship.  The next week he brought Robert.  Most weeks Robert, David and a few others show up near the beginning of worship.  They nearly always bring someone new with them and those new friends often come back bringing others. They lift their hands to sing and pray.  They respond out loud to prayers and sermons.  After worship  Robert always goes to the piano in the church hall to play and sing words of praise before sitting down to the fellowship meal.  They all help pack lunches for the hungry.  Every week they ask what else they can do to help.

You'd think that every congregation would be thrilled to get folks like this. But that hasn't been their experience.  Quite the opposite, in fact.  Most of them haven't felt welcome inside a church in years.  

David and Robert and their friends are homeless.  They don't always smell great.  They may not always behave in “socially acceptable” ways.  They have little or nothing to put in the basket.  But man, they really love worshipping God in community!

For years I've been inviting the local homeless folks to join us for our Sunday after-worship meal.  I've been telling them "No pressure to come to church, just come eat with us."  

Not "let us feed you."   

But "Come eat with us. Come share a meal.  Come sit with us and talk with us and let's all get to know each other."

And then, at the grocery store on Sunday afternoon Jimmy, who is always sitting in front of the market, told me that he’s going to start coming to worship with David.  He’s never said that before.  I extended an invitation to join us for lunch after worship, as I always do whenever I see him.  He said, “Pastor, I can get food. I won’t come for food.” Pointing to the sky he said, “I’m coming for Him.” 

I wept again.

I’ve been working on the Acts model of doing church, of going out into the community to feed and heal whomever, whether or not they are part of our congregation.  You know, the way the early church did. We’re told that they did this and because they did people came to listen to the Good News out of curiosity, having witnessed great love demonstrated by the followers of Jesus.  Some of my clergy friends seem to think we should never invite people to come to worship, but that we should always first invite them to come and eat, or join us in do service in the community.  And then, if the Spirit leads us to, we can invite them to worship.   

For the better part of 10 years I've been inviting Jimmy to come eat in community with us and he never accepted the invitation. But now Jimmy is coming and he’s coming because David invited him to come worship God in community.  David invited him to come sing and pray and shout Amen in community.  David is working on a different model - the great commission model.  Jesus told his disciples, “Therefore, go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to obey everything that I’ve commanded you.”  (Matthew 28:19-20a  CEB)

I think perhaps Jesus is telling me, "Go, and do likewise."