just say no

just say no

Thomas Powers writes in The New York Review of Books: ‘The Biggest Secret’:

In public life as in kindergarten, the all-important word is no. We are living with the consequences of the inability to say no to the President’s war of choice with Iraq, and we shall soon see how the Congress and the courts will respond to the latest challenge from the White House—the claim by President Bush that he has the right to ignore FISA’s prohibition of government intrusion on the private communications of Americans without a court order, and his repeated statements that he intends to go right on doing it.

Read the entire article: The New York Review of Books: ‘The Biggest Secret’

no matter who you are …

no matter who you are …

No matter who you are, or where you are on life’s journey,
you are welcome here.

The folks at my church have heard me repeat this tag line from the United Church of Christ national media campaign countless times. For me, it expresses something fundamental about the gospel to which I am called to witness, something not so much about our readiness to welcome anybody, as about Jesus’ readiness to welcome everybody, something not so much about our hospitality, as about Jesus’ gracious invitation. Jesus invited me and Jesus welcomed me! So I know Jesus will invite and welcome you … no matter who you are!

This is what love is: it is not that we have loved God, but that God loved us and sent Jesus to be the means by which our sins are forgiven.

That gracious invitation is especially vivid to me when I stand behind the communion table in our church sanctuary, inviting people to receive the food and drink that Jesus offers them. Because it is Jesus who makes the invitation! The bread and the wine are not mine to give, not the church’s to give, and most certainly not ours to decide who may or may not be invited to the table. This is one of the most meaningful things I do as a minister, extending Jesus’ invitation to eat and to drink, offering to each and to all these emblems of grace.

Communion is a sacrament, a means of grace, a means of experiencing/accessing/being touched by grace. We are called to the table to remember Jesus, and, perhaps even more importantly, to remember that we are remembered by Jesus. We are called to the table to meet Jesus, to be met by Jesus, to celebrate the possibility and to experience the reality of intimacy with Jesus. This is what the gospel is about! This is the good news!

So how could I possibly turn anyone away? How could I ever refuse you access to the Lord’s table … no matter who you are?

These thoughts were stirred as I read Katherine Willis’ blog post entitled, Never too broken. She reminds us: We are never too broken to receive the grace of God in all its tangible and intangible forms. Her post about access to the communion table, and how some have tragically been denied access, is well worth reading.

the sami got me thinking

the sami got me thinking

Sami dressLast evening my wife and I attended a Sons of Norway gathering as guests of some friends of ours. We shared a catered meal, listened as members conducted club business, and watched with them a documentary on the recent history of the Sami, an indigenous people of northern Scandinavia and far northwest Russia, known for their reindeer-herding, fishing, and colorful dress, among other things. (Photo courtesy: Trym Ivar Bergsmo/Finnmark Tourist Board; click on the photo to see a larger image.)

It was a troubling film. The story of the Sami is so much like the story of other indigenous peoples — in Australia, in Africa, in South America, and on this continent. They are pushed aside, displaced from traditional lands, absorbed or oppressed by the dominant culture. Traditional means of economic production often become unavailable to them, because of the encroachment of competing interests or the degradation of natural resources. They are forcibly “re-educated” in the language and customs of the dominant culture, and their own language and culture are threatened with extinction.

The Sami have done well, adjusting to a new way of life, surviving both within and alongside the European cultures of Norway, Sweden, Finland, and Russia, while preserving their own distinctive ways and forging a stronger social and political unity. But along the way, they have been caricatured, belittled, marginalized, and mocked. Just like the aborigines of Australia or the Xhosa of South Africa or the Sioux of North America, they have been treated as a lower form of humanity and their culture demeaned and expunged.

What is it about us? What is it about all of us that is so intolerant of diversity? What is it that makes us want to homogenize culture, to marginalize or eradicate or utterly transform what we find peculiar? We still do it. We disrespect immigrant peoples by proposing “English as official language” laws, supposedly to aid their assimilation into American culture, but oppressors and cultural elitists have always supposed they know what is best for everybody else. We export our preferred economic model and our preferred political model, sometimes by moral persuasion, sometimes by leveraging our power and influence, and sometimes by plain use of force. But we are not uniquely at fault in this. It seems no culture can resist the impulse to see itself as superior to any other culture with which it comes in contact, and to seek, if possible, to dominate and “convert” their “unfortunate” neighbors.

It is more than troubling. It causes me doubt and shame … because Christians, at least Christians in name, have too often been among the “culture-killers.” But I cannot believe, I do not believe, that such behavior is a product of Christian faith itself. This is not the way of Christ or the way of Christ’s faithful followers. Authentic faith does not encourage homogeneity, but diversity: The Spirit’s presence is shown in some way in each person for the good of all. And again: There is no difference between Jews and Gentiles, between slaves and free, between men and women; you are all one in union with Christ, which is not to denigrate the differences between people, but to say that differences in gender or race or social status offer no reason to make distinctions. We are one in Christ; in Christ we have equal value, equal importance … we are equally loved. And what shall we say to the God who is the creator of all living things, of every human person: You may think this is good, but we know better!”?

May God forgive us our cultural biases and our haste in equating “foreign” with “inferior.” And may our witness to Jesus be about spreading the good news of the gospel of peace, not about spreading our particular brand of culture.

filled with power

filled with power

When the Holy Spirit comes upon you, you will be filled with power, and you will be witnesses for me …

That’s what Jesus promised his first apostles: you will be filled with power … and they were:

  • power to boldly proclaim a message of good news
  • power to heal broken bodies and broken souls
  • power to stand up to fierce opposition and harsh persecution
  • power to see what they could not see before — the ever-widening circle of the Lord’s embrace.

You will be filled with power …

Do you feel powerful, empowered, filled with power? Sometimes it seems that for us faith is more about comfort and assurance than about power, more about belief than about action, more about what Jesus can do for us than about we can do in Jesus’ name.

What can we do in Jesus’ name?

  • Can we boldly proclaim good news to a world that is cynical, hurting, despairing, splintered?
  • Do we expect to bring healing to broken souls and broken bodies?
  • Will we stand up and not back down in the face of doubt, derision, scoffing, verbal attacks, political isolation?
  • Will we see the still-widening circle of the Lord’s embrace?

I don’t want to be part of a church that is innocuous, self-absorbed, timid. I don’t want to be content with a faith that promises future blessing, but makes no real difference now. I want to know what it is — to explore with you, my fellow believers, what it is — that we can do here and now in Jesus’ name!

Do we believe the good news? Do we believe Jesus is alive? Do we believe Jesus is alive in us? Do we believe that we are filled with power, and are we ready to exercise that power in love, in Jesus’ name, for our neighbor’s sake?

national religious campaign against torture

national religious campaign against torture

Thank you to Rev. Dr. George Hunsinger of Princeton Theological Seminary for notifying this weblog of the work of the National Religious Coalition Against Torture. Read their statement, “Torture Is A Moral Issue,” on their website (www.nrcat.org) and consider adding your signature. An excerpt from the statement follows:

Torture violates the basic dignity of the human person that all religions hold dear. It degrades everyone involved –policy-makers, perpetrators and victims. It contradicts our nation’s most cherished ideals. Any policies that permit torture and inhumane treatment are shocking and morally intolerable.

Torture and inhumane treatment have long been banned by U.S. treaty obligations, and are punishable by criminal statute. Recent developments, however, have created new uncertainties. By reaffirming the ban on cruel, inhuman and degrading treatment as well as torture, the McCain amendment, now signed into law, is a step in the right direction. Yet its implementation remains unclear …

National Religious Coalition Against Torture logo
bono at the national prayer breakfast

bono at the national prayer breakfast

Worth reading: U2 lead singer Bono’s remarks delivered at the National Prayer Breakfast yesterday. Very much worth reading for those who take faith in Jesus seriously!

Here’s a brief excerpt:

Here’s some good news for the President. After 9-11 we were told America would have no time for the World’s poor. America would be taken up with its own problems of safety. And it’s true these are dangerous times, but America has not drawn the blinds and double-locked the doors.

In fact, you have doubled aid to Africa. You have tripled funding for global health. Mr. President, your emergency plan for AIDS relief and support for the Global Fund, you and Congress, have put 700,000 people onto life-saving anti-retroviral drugs and provided 8 million bed nets to protect children from malaria.

Outstanding human achievements. Counterintuitive. Historic. Be very, very proud.

But here’s the bad news. From charity to justice, the good news is yet to come. There’s is much more to do. There’s a gigantic chasm between the scale of the emergency and the scale of the response.

And finally, it’s not about charity after all, is it? It’s about justice.

Let me repeat that: It’s not about charity, it’s about justice.

And that’s too bad.

Because you’re good at charity. Americans, like the Irish, are good at it. We like to give, and we give a lot, even those who can’t afford it.

But justice is a higher standard. Africa makes a fool of our idea of justice; it makes a farce of our idea of equality. It mocks our pieties, it doubts our concern, it questions our commitment.

6,500 Africans are still dying every day of a preventable, treatable disease, for lack of drugs we can buy at any drug store. This is not about charity, this is about Justice and Equality …

unforgettable haiti

unforgettable haiti

Haiti … unforgettable

That was the last line I wrote in the journal I kept during my ten-day visit to Haiti in the summer of 1991. And it’s true. The land and its people are still very much with me, in my mind and in my heart.

So a reference to Haiti on an internet news server caught my attention … and reading the article (a blog post for the Washington Post, submitted by photojournalist, Ron Haviv) brought back many memories. You may read his commentary here: Glimmers of hope in Cite Soleil. Be sure to check out his photo gallery as well. I bring this to your attention, because we know so little in this country, and, too often, care so little about this near neighbor of ours.

One afternoon in that summer of 1991, I walked the alleys of Cité Soleil in Port-au-Prince. It was a hopeful time. We were there just months before the coup that removed Jean Bertrand Aristide from power, but while we were there, in the midst of the systemic poverty and the pervasive despair, there was a sense of hopefulness, of new possibility. In Cité Soleil, the seaside Port-au-Prince slum, we saw new wooden houses with raised cement floors and many construction projects — trenches and walls. Our guide, a man with numerous previous visits to Port-au-Prince, told us there was more building activity in Cité Soleil than he had ever seen.

We stopped at a one-room shop in a cement block building. Claire’s Boutique, it was called. It sold the artwork and crafts of local artisans, insuring them a fair share of the earnings. I purchased a carved wooden nativity for my wife: Joseph, Mary, the baby in a manger, three strangers bearing gifts, and several barn animals. The faces of the carved people are long and narrow, somber and beautiful. The nativity occupies a special place on our mantle every Advent season.

Maybe things can/will change …, I wrote in my journal that evening.

But all too soon, for the majority of Haitians, hope was turned once more to resignation and despair. Once more and still, violence is rampant and poverty intractable and oppression the “norm” and we American neighbors virtually oblivious.

Next week, the Haitian people go to the polls. René Préval, a former Aristide associate and the favorite of Haiti’s poor, leads the presidential field. Maybe things can/will change …

And maybe we will pay attention. Maybe we will not forget.