Persistence

The Parable of the Widow and the Unjust Judge

18Then Jesus^* told them a parable about their need to pray always and not to lose heart. ²He said, ‘In a certain city there was a judge who neither feared God nor had respect for people. ³In that city there was a widow who kept coming to him and saying, “Grant me justice against my opponent.” ⁴For a while he refused; but later he said to himself, “Though I have no fear of God and no respect for anyone, ⁵yet because this widow keeps bothering me, I will grant her justice, so that she may not wear me out by continually coming.” ^{* 6}And the Lord said, ‘Listen to what the unjust judge says. ⁷And will not God grant justice to his chosen ones who cry to him day and night? Will he delay long in helping them? ⁸I tell you, he will quickly grant justice to them. And yet, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on earth?’ - Luke 18:1-8

There's an old saying that goes, "if at first you don't succeed, try, try again." Any parent of a toddler child can tell you that kids are born knowing this. I think it's encrypted in the genes because toddlers learn how to say "No" early on while repeatedly attempting to do something to which their parents have already said "No."

Learning anything is a matter of persistence. A child doesn't just pick up a crayon at the age of three and immediately begin to do a neat, if not ornate, script. They don't learn to walk without falling down numerous times. They don't learn discipline until they've tried things over and over again and learn that it either works or they need to try a new approach. The widow in today's reading definitely knew the power of persistence.

I wonder what it was that the woman needed so felt so strongly about that she risked the wrath of the judge numerous times. The fact that she was a woman was strange enough, because normally a man, her husband, brother, or father, perhaps even a cousin, would have pleaded her case before the judge. but not this time. She did it herself, and continued to do it each time the judge ignored or said no. Persistence eventually paid off. The judge got tired of hearing her complaint and finally rendered a judgment in her favor just to get rid of her. Score one for persistence!

Life today requires some of that persistence. So many times during our lives, we have to do things over and over again to achieve the results we want or need. Even then, sometimes it never happens.

People like Martin Luther King Junior knew the power of persistence. He was jailed, arrested, slandered, ignored, just about everything that you can think of except being heard by the people he most needed to have hear him. He was persistent, and that persistence earned him a bullet in Memphis but by then, his persistence had become the persistence of an entire race of people, and a number of allies of other races, who took over and used that same persistence to achieve some measure of the quality. Other groups and races have used King's tactics to further their own causes but the fight isn't over yet. There is still a lot of persistence needed.

All of us at one time or another has begged God time and time again for something, like the health of a friend or loved one, a solution to what seems an insoluble problem, and even a request for peace in the world. We've taken a page out of the widow's book: we pray, pray again, and keep praying, all with the expectation that sooner or later God will hear our prayer and do as we ask. It's the one time an 92-year-old and a two-year-old are on the same plane. Keep asking in the hope that the next time, the answer will be "Yes."

We admire the woman for her persistence. We celebrate Martin Luther King for his. We look at those who persistently went about doing things that were contrary to normal custom but which were damaging to the health of the people and the earth. Sometimes we have joined them, other times we have encouraged them through contributions of time or money, and sometimes we just stood on the sidelines and watched. It's a wonder we expect God to jump in and do what we ask when were not always willing to meet God even halfway. My question today for myself is how far am I willing to go to make things happen, not just expect God to take on the whole job?

Persistence allegedly pays off. We see a lot of examples of it, so the answer would seem to be yes it does. So what are we persistent about and how do we turn it into a positive result rather than just repeating words or actions? It's not all up to God; we are expected to do our part. So today's assignment is to be persistent about something:. prayers for a friend, words of encouragement to people fighting a battle whether it's a physical battle as in war or a battle such as cancer, homelessness, or some other.

"If at first you don't succeed, try, try again" doesn't appear in the Bible, but the principle of it does. Go out, find something to be persistent about, and get on with it. Nothing will be accomplished without persistence.


Originally published at Speaking to the Soul on Episcopal Café Saturday, November 14, 2015.

Whose life is it anyway?

Not long ago, the House of Lords in London undertook a consideration of physician-assisted death and whether or not it should be made legal in Britain. It has also been a topic here in the US, most recently about a young woman, newly married, who has an inoperable and incurable form of cancer and who has indicated she will pursue physician-assisted suicide (PAS), Death, however, is not a topic not discussed easily or often. It's not usually a topic for dinner-table conversations, lessons at school or even mentioned at church. It is, though, a very important topic because it is something we all have in common: all of us will ultimately die, and avoiding the topic does not make it any less final.

The objective of physician-assisted death is to enable people to have some control over their lives when there is really not much anyone, including physicians, can do to either postpone the inevitable or mitigate its effects on both patient and family. We hear stories of people passing quietly in bed with little fuss and seemingly no pain and that's the way I think most of us would like to go when our time comes. It doesn't always work that way, though. Death can be very painful, prolonged and, unfortunately, messy. That in itself, as much as for the sake of everyone being aware of the wishes of their loved ones, is all the more reason we need to talk about it while it is still distant enough for us to be objective about it, or as objective as we can be about confronting our own mortality.

The older we get, the more we think about death, willingly or unwillingly. Young people may think they are invincible but they die too, mostly due to accident, murder or even suicide. Older folks, though, see family and friends pass, and their own declining health makes the specter of death more real, whether or not they want to consider it any more than a teenager would. We don't like to think of being incapacitated, dealing with excruciating pain, being frozen in immobility, having to have people change diapers for us like we were infants, or losing the mental acuity that made us who we were. We are told that palliative care, care that allows us the greatest quality of life possible at the time through medications and sometimes machines, should be sufficient to get us through death's door with as little loss of dignity as possible, but that isn't always the case. Sometimes we just want to feel we still can make decisions for ourselves about how we want to live -- and how we want to die.

In the US, several states have already given electoral approval to physician-assisted death, where it should be available, under what circumstances, and with what restrictions. Their laws are fairly clear: the person must have their full faculties but have been diagnosed as terminally ill with  six months or less left to live, and having made a clear declaration of their desire to have control over when they feel their life is no longer bearable. A form stating the desire and intent has to be witnessed by two separate medical professionals who have no relationship, professional or otherwise, to each other or to the patient so there is no chance of ulterior motive in the death. The medications must be self-administered or administered on the direct orders of the patient. It sounds pretty straightforward, but nothing this side of heaven is totally straightforward it seems.

There was and still is a lot of controversy surrounding such a law or bill, mostly from those who claim religious beliefs and strong pro-life convictions. It is claimed that it is a slippery slope which, once passed, will allow others to euthanize relatives and others who they deem as unnecessary, too much of a burden or too expensive to care for. Statistics have shown that not all who are facing fairly immediate end-of-life issues have an interest in physician-assisted death and of those who are, even fewer request the service. Of those requesting, not all go through with it. Some die naturally without any intervention and others decide to opt out of it. So the actual number of such deaths is a few percentage points of total deaths, but it gives the terminally ill the choice they may  want and feel they  need.

It is compared, in a simplistic way, to taking a suffering cat to the veterinarian to be put to sleep when there seems to be little else to do other than watch the cat die in pain that could be alleviated by euthanasia. It is often said that we treat our sick and dying pets with more compassion than we do our fellow humans.

Religion-wise, those who object most to the bill are those with religious convictions they claim are firmly pro-life. They are very much against abortion, usually not approving of any form of birth control, and unwilling to allow women and their doctors to make decisions about the continuation of a pregnancy caused by (a) rape or incest, (b) a fetus with severe birth defects that will lead to a very short and painful life after birth, and (c) when the life of the mother (who may have other small children to consider) is at risk due to the pregnancy. Now they are also focused on how aged, infirm and/or terminally ill adults should live out their final days, whether or not they know the patient, the circumstances, the patient's wishes or religious beliefs. It comes down to who gets to make the decisions about how that patient's life should be lived -- and how it ends.

In the case of the House of Lords' consideration of the matter, what is somewhat surprising is the stance of two Archbishops of Canterbury. Lord George Carey, a former Archbishop of Canterbury, is quite conservative on most issues; however, he is firmly in favor of passage of the bill. At odds is the current Archbishop, Justin Welby, who is very much against it. A third archbishop, Desmond Tutu, formerly of South Africa, is equally firmly in the pro camp. I wonder if his battle with cancer gives him a clearer view of the ramifications as much as the prolonged treatment and death of his friend Nelson Mandela.

No doctor can say for certain when a person is going to die. They can guesstimate, based on symptoms, test results, and experience, but doctors are not omniscient. They tell a person that they have six months and that patient may die by week’s end or go on for years. It’s a crapshoot. PAS is intended to give the patient some control over when they feel their quality of life is compromised beyond any hope of redemption. It allows them to make a decision while they are still of sound of mental state, to say, “Here is my line in the sand; beyond this I do not want to go.”

There is a lot of concern that if a general physician-assisted dying law is passed, it would  mean a wholesale slaughter of the mentally incompetent, the disabled, and others deemed unworthy of life, and that is a slippery slope nobody wants to go down. There are some families who, burdened by the care of an elderly, handicapped or terminally ill member, take the decision in their own hands. They usually end up in court for murder, no matter whether their intentions were in accordance with the patient’s wishes or not. There are also many doctors who believe their Hippocratic Oath holds them to preserving life at all costs, not ending it, even if their patient actively asks for it.

In the House of Lords, the outcome of the recent debate was a 65 to 63 vote in favor, not enough to make it law but enough to continue the discussion in another session. In the United States, PAS is legal in three states, Oregon being the first to pass the legitimization of Death with Dignity in 1994. So far people have not been beating down the doors in Oregon, Washington or Vermont (the other two states in which it is legal)  to have either themselves, a loved one, friend, or even someone they barely know ushered gently out of this world and into the next. Quite a few people don’t seem to mind using physician-assisted death when it comes to executing criminals, but when it comes to the elderly, terminally ill, disabled, living in extreme pain, or even just lying there hooked up to machines without thought processes, it is a different story.

Where I think faith comes into this is in the realm of compassion. It is compassion that allows us to take our pet to the veterinarian for euthanasia. When it comes to human life, though, it is a different ball game. People take “Thou shalt not kill” seriously, and that becomes a place where the discussion dies. What place does compassion have when faced with this commandment although most are perfectly comfortable breaking or ignoring the other nine? When should a person be allowed to make their own choice? Should the religious beliefs of some take precedence over all, including those who have no religious beliefs on the subject at all? Who makes the decisions as to when life is worth living or is merely an existence? Would God really eternally punish someone who has been tried beyond their limits? Is that the kind of God we have?

What I think it comes down to is who has the right to make a decision about their own life? Who knows what the person is experiencing and how much they feel able to bear and for how long? Ultimately, the questions that have to be asked is, "What would God expect us to do? Whose life is it, anyway?"

Originally published at Daily Episcopalian on Episcopal Café Tuesday, November 4, 2014,

Faith and a Flashlight

I have a small book of quotations I've come across at various times and on various topics. It was inspired by Jan Karon's Patches of Godlight: Father Tim's Favorite Quotes which gave me the idea to begin my own favorite quotes book. I used one of those little black-and-white composition books, small enough to put in a pocket and have added to it periodically over the years. There are barely five unused pages left, and I have a second little book just like the first waiting to be put into use.

This morning I wanted to find a quote to write about so I began looking for my little book which is always somewhere either on or close to my desk. I couldn't find it. I searched various piles of papers, books and magazines to no effect. I moved the calculator and the small pile of cards to be sent out but again, to no avail. So I resorted to my go-to implement, a small but bright flashlight. It took a few more minutes but I located the little book. Then it came to me: the flashlight was helpful not just for shining light on what I was looking for but gave me an epiphany as well. I could see many things with the available light of my desk lamp, but by using a small flashlight it concentrated my focus on only a few things at a time. An overwhelming task had been reduced to a small focused one, and it worked. I found what I was looking for and in very short order.

Then I began to think about what a flashlight does. It creates a beam of light that helps illuminate things. If I walk around in the dark where there are no lights, On every episode of CSI, the team begins their investigation by clicking on flashlights and, even in fairly bright areas, they find tiny clues that lead to the solution of a crime. There's never an area so bright that it can't use a little more light.

 I can stumble over things that I would have seen had there been more light. A flashlight helps prevent that stumbling.   It puts light in dark corners of the closet where things I had forgotten about were stashed or perhaps hiding. It shows me where the vacuum has missed small masses of cat-lace (hair shed by my boys which hides under chairs and tables and sometimes sits defiantly in the middle of the floor) and also the toy for which they've been groping under a chest or media rack. It makes what was difficult or impossible to see visible, and it forces me to focus on a small area. Perhaps that's the word I'm looking for -- focus.

I remember when I had panic attacks. It was an effort even to breathe and making a decision as to what I was supposed to be doing was almost impossible. I had written an essay on mental health issues that referenced panic attacks and gave some clues on how to get through them. It had to be a God-thing in that I remembered some of those tips several years later and in the throes of something that had just been a subject to write about. The major tip was to focus -- focus on the next thing that had to be done. The first step to focus on was taking a breath, then another one. From there the next thing was to stand up, then walk to the kitchen. By focusing on one small thing at a time, I got through the 20 minutes or so that, if I remembered correctly, was about the length of the average panic attack. When I was thinking about the flashlight today I remembered the whole episode and thought how similar that remembering to focus was so much like using my flashlight to illumine one small area.

Then I started thinking about faith. What exactly is it, where did I learn it and how does it affect me and my life?  That's a big question because faith encompasses a whole range of beliefs -- who is God, what is God, who is Jesus, who is the Holy Spirit, what roles do they play in my faith, etc. In Education for Ministry (EfM) before our last curriculum change, we had an exercise that attempted to nail down precisely what it was that each of us believed, why we believed it and where we had learned it. We referred to it as the Grid because it began as a table with a number of columns, each with a specific word like "God." Under each column heading was a series of questions, each in its own block under that topic and those questions asked for specific answers.  When I worked on it as a student, I put six solid weeks of thought into it and still never finished the exercise. I did it again when I became a mentor, and still never finished it. It isn't really part of our new curriculum and that is a relief, in a way. I'm also sorry to see its demise because I think it was a great exercise, just maybe too daunting in its depth. But then, wasn't the whole purpose to gain depth?  To use a kind of flashlight to lighten up the dark corners?

It's easy to recite the historic creeds on a Sunday morning but if someone asks me what a precise phrase means and why I believe it, I have to stumble around and try to come up with the answer. I think maybe I need more flashlight work when it comes to that subject. Like CSI, I need to focus on small areas and not be overwhelmed by the larger issues.

Maybe being able to explain my faith isn't something that will change the world or even solve one of its myriad problems, but then, I have to remember that as huge as the world's problems are, individuals and groups shining the equivalent of flashlights on small areas have helped to change things, whether things solely of faith or where faith intersects good works.

The world could use a little more light in a great many places.


Originally published at Daily Episcopalian on Episcopal Café Monday, October 27, 2014.

Church, State, and the Vanishing Wall

There are always topics that tend to garner a lot of public opinion, one of the latest being the issue of church and state and how much control each of these two entities should have with regard to the other. A recent article in the Washington Post by Michelle Boorstein¹ referenced the result of studies conducted by two respected public opinion polling firms. The results indicated that 46% of respondents feared that their freedom to practice their religion was being interfered with or constrained by government. Another 46% believed that religious groups were attempting to force their beliefs on all citizens, whether or not the respondents agreed with those beliefs. The statistics were, to say the least, interesting and a bit disconcerting.

The demographics indicated that those who feared curtailment of religious freedoms were older Americans, white, Evangelicals, Republicans and those with very conservative political views. Those who felt their own beliefs were curtailed or ignored by other religious bodies were those described as young adults under 30(Generation Zs), Democrats, politically liberal, and generally unaffiliated with a church, denomination or religion. In short, the two groups are as different as chalk and cheese.

Freedom of religion has been a topic of interest since the founding of this country. One group of the original colonies was established by  entrepreneurs and young men anxious to make their fortunes. With them came the established church as important (as was conversion of the local Native Americans) but secondary to profit. Another group was founded by dissenters who felt they were persecuted by the established church and sought a place where they could practice their faith unhindered. Pilgrims who settled at Plymouth wanted to purify the established church of its' more Roman Catholic elements. Puritans were much more restrictive, wanting to do away with the established church altogether and follow a strict Calvinist theology. Other denominations came to the colonies with each wave of new immigrants, each denomination having the opportunity to either make a space for itself in the cities or carve out a niche in the ever-shrinking wilderness.

Thomas Jefferson wrote that there should be a wall of separation between church and state, a thought which was incorporated into the Constitution of the United States as part of the first amendment of what is now called the Bill of Rights. That amendment stated, "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof." While we may not be seeing individuals and groups attempting to establish a national church, we are certainly seeing those individuals and groups attempting to establish law based on one set of religious beliefs -- theirs.
 

In an article on the Episcopal Café website, Editor-in-chief Jim Naughton made the following observation:

I don't think our freedom of religion is in any danger, and I am disappointed that well-fed, well-educated, mostly white, mostly male religious leaders who know they will have access to whatever healthcare they need and a comfortable place to which to retire has succeeded in painting themselves as victims whose rights are in danger."²

Naughton has summed up the situation rather well, but I have a feeling, though, that had any woman made such a statement, she would be widely pilloried as a "Feminazi," man-hater or  an example of male-bashing.

Looking statistically,  it is generally  possible to see that the balance of power between male/female is clearly on the side of the males. In Congress, for example, the ratio of males to females is roughly 81% to 19%.³ The Supreme Court is 66.6% male to 33.3% female. The religious makeup is of identical percentages with 6 Roman Catholic and 3  Jewish members. One woman justice is Roman Catholic and one male is Jewish.   

In the ecclesiastical realm, at least among Roman Catholics, various Orthodox denominations and sects, many if not most Protestant denominations, and among many non-Christian faiths, the ratio of male to female leaders is more on the order of 100% and no females need apply. Statistics do not tell the whole story; what is easily seen, however, is that power and the control which comes from power is firmly in the hands of one group and that group shows no real signs of wanting to relinquish or even share it unless they are required to do so.

The increasing clamor that particular groups are being persecuted because others do not jump on their bandwagon or voluntarily agree to follow their beliefs is, I believe, the ultimate hubris. Dissenting opinions and people stating religious beliefs of their own in various media or even with  picket signs hardly qualifies as persecution. In a sense, it feels like a reversal of the Christians in the arena with the lions in ancient Rome, only this time the Christians are circling the lions.

The news is full of reports of members of various religious groups around the world being shot, beheaded, burned alive, kidnapped,  or forced to flee with only what they can carry on their backs by another group of religionists who are bent on conquest and/or conversion by force. Protests from groups in this country who claim persecution because people choose to decline to follow their particular belief system appears both  ludicrous and totally egocentric. The egocentrism and feeling of persecution being felt in some quarters is the fear that they will either (a) displease God or  (b) lose power and control resulting in someone else mandating different beliefs on them. For them, it is a case of force or be forced, or so it appears.

 The chain-link fence that used to be the wall of separation has come to pass since more and more legislative regulations and judicial decisions are reflecting a favoritism of specific religious points of view over those of others, including those who have no religious beliefs at all.  One glaring example is the recent Hobby Lobby decision where the Supreme Court decided in favor of the defendant's request for relief from providing insurance coverage of contraceptives for its female employees, regardless of those employees' own religious beliefs or lack thereof. Hobby Lobby declared that it would violate their (Hobby Lobby's) religious convictions to have to provide such coverage. Five male Roman Catholic justices, who shared a similar religious beliefs regarding contraception, ruled in favor of Hobby Lobby. The three female justices and the Jewish male justice dissented.

There have been other legislations and decisions that upheld one religious group's beliefs over others' whose personal, physical, and medical well-being have been compromised without their consent or control or even any seeming respect for their  own freedom of religion and practice. It seems the separation of church and state is a one-way street. The direction of the one-way street is determined by groups and individuals with very deep pockets and endorsed by people with power and control to make it happen.

So where does that leave us? Where is the dividing line? Is there a way where the two can really work together for the benefit of all? There is a place for legitimate medical legislation, I believe, particularly when it concerns all segments of society and helps to ensure their health, safety and equal treatment. Many religions teach the need for care for the most vulnerable in their societies, yet some who profess the same religion choose a very different interpretation of the same religious texts and teachings that mandate that care. Both religion and the government require the cooperation of those over whom they exercise supervision and control to a certain extent, and both have areas in which they have strength to balance a weakness in the other.

Perhaps if the two worked together, not to gain preeminence for one particular lobby, special interest group, religious entity or adherents to a particular religious belief alone, but rather for the benefit of all, it might fulfill the mandates of both to provide for the equality of access to all civil rights, benefits  and religious autonomy without regard to the person's race, gender, cultural background, orientation, economic status or religious preference.

For Christians, that would mean the beginning of the realization of the kingdom of God, a place of peace, harmony and justice here and now, not later and somewhere far different. It won't be popular with the rich, the powerful and those at the top of the hierarchy who would need to give up some power, prestige and control. It would, in the long run, produce a true prosperity, not an economy based on the perception of limited resources when it comes to the good things in life. It would provide for a healthier earth too, which would be a good thing because humanity still needs a home planet, a place where they have to share the good and the bad, even with people who disagree with them.

Ultimately, though, it is a choice for all of us to make as to which path and which leaders  to follow, which fear to feed and which to brush aside. Hopefully, we will make the wise choice.

¹ Boorstein, Michelle, "Our new culture war issue: religion's public role," The Washington Post, September 24, 2014.

² Naughton, Jim, commentary on "Our new culture war issue: Religion's public role" on Episcopal Café, September 25, 2014.

³ Statistics from Congressional Research Service, "Membership of the 113th Congress: A Profile", August 26, 2014. 

Originally published at Daily Episcopalian on Episcopal Café Tuesday, October 14, 2014.

Who Is Responsible?

Like a lot of other people, I've been reading and watching various reports and commentaries on the recent Hobby Lobby case. The Supreme Court voted 5-4 that Hobby Lobby should have the right to refuse to cover birth control for its employees on the grounds that it violates their (Hobby Lobby's, or rather, Hobby Lobby's major stockholder's) religious beliefs. The Court has said that in this case, a corporation run for-profit and without a direct affiliation with a specific religious denomination (like a Roman Catholic or Baptist hospital, clinic or even bookstore) can claim religious grounds in refusing to cover specific medical procedures, devices or prescriptions. It's got folks up in arms, in a manner of speaking, almost as much as the open carrying of assault rifles into stores and churches.

Perhaps the best summation came from Justice Ruth Bader Ginsberg who noted in the minority dissention that allowing Hobby Lobby to prevail set a precedent for anybody to claim something someone else did or was doing conflicted with their religious beliefs and should not be allowed. There have been a host of spin-offs on that, including those who say that since they paid their federal taxes and some of that tax money went to fight a war they felt was unjust, they should be able to sue to have the government not include their tax money in any such conflict. I don't think that one has a prayer (pardon the expression) of getting anywhere legally but it does make me stop and think, how far can this go?

My employer has forbidden smoking on the premises, even in private cars parked on the premises. It isn't so much a religious thing with him as it is a health one. People work for him with the understanding that if they smoke, they will have to go across the street or down the block. He doesn't go so far as to say they can't smoke anywhere, including in their own homes, like some firms do, just on his own property. His responsibility is to give his employees a clean, safe environment in which to work, and, to him, smoking does not contribute to that as well as being a personal dislike. It makes sense and the employees go along with it. But what if he were Hindu or Jewish or Muslim?  Could employees be forbidden to bring sandwiches containing beef or pork?  If he were a Jehovah’s Witness doctor, could he refuse to give someone a life-saving transfusion because his religion forbade him receiving one himself? Maybe that's a frivolous example, but it could happen and very possibly be legally upheld.

What I think it comes down to is judgment, not necessarily one person judging the actions of another but rather the judgment of God. Religions usually give a list of thou shalt nots because their holy texts or great teachers or clergy say that these are the precepts that God (or a god, or an authoritative figure) has declared to be the rules and to be a believer and a member, those rules should be applied to a member's daily life. If they don't follow the rules, they could be (a) punished or (b) expelled for their sins or perceived sins. In some cases, including school honor codes, if someone is aware of some wrongdoing and do not report it, they are equally guilty and should be punished the same as if they did the deed themselves. I think this is a key to the Hobby Lobby thing; the owners who do not want to cover birth control believe that by providing it they are going against what God expects and that they will ultimately have to face judgment themselves for allowing someone else to do something they, the owners, believe as clearly against God's will.

And there's the rub -- God's will. The Bible says to be fruitful and multiply. It also equates a form of birth control as evil in the story of Onan (Gen. 38:8-10). Of course,  at that time sperm were considered to be very tiny but fully formed infants who just needed to be implanted into a woman to be incubated to full infant size. What  got Onan in trouble was that he refused to impregnate his sister-in-law so that his deceased brother would have a legitimate offspring, a duty Onan was supposed to do to preserve his dead brother's inheritance and line. Onan's punishment was for selfishness more than anything else, and his punishment was meted on the basis of that. People use Onan as a figurehead for opposing any form of birth control without thinking that there might be something else more important that caused God's wrath.

When I stand before God to be judged, am I going to be judged on what I did or what I allowed other people to do? I don't believe in the death penalty but will I be judged for paying taxes that contribute to the continuation of such a practice? Am I going to be held responsible for the cutbacks in education because people I didn't vote for decided we needed to cut school lunch programs, arts programs, and a curriculum aimed at teaching kids to think rather than just answer standardized test questions? I believe God wants me to pay attention to things that benefit all people, not just major financial contributors, powerful conglomerates, or even people who think like I do. I think I will be judged on that more than what I make other people do to fit my particular religious beliefs.

What the Supreme Court has decided is that religion and religious beliefs have more weight than health and safety issues. It has decided that one segment of society can be discounted because of religious beliefs. And, as so many have pointed out, it opens the door for a lot of pain and suffering to come from lawsuits and decisions where a person or corporation decides it can make the rules reflective of their religious preferences, whether or not those who work or associate with that person or corporation have religious beliefs of their own that may or may not coincide with their employer's or associate's.

The final decision is going to be up to God. Meanwhile we all have a responsibility to  "[D]o justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God" (Micah 6:8d). That doesn't necessarily mean we are responsible for our neighbors lives and choices other than helping them meet their needs for adequate food, clean water, shelter, clothing, education, medical care, safety and equal access to all of those things as we have ourselves. We're responsible for caring for the widows, orphans, prisoners, the sick, the dying, and even the resident aliens in our land (check the Bible, it's in there more than once!); we're not responsible for forcing them to attend our particular church on Sunday (or any other day declared a religious duty) or to obey tenets of a faith to which they don't subscribe themselves. That's simply not in our job description.

Where I think we do have responsibility for which we will be judged is if someone else comes to harm because of our insistence on adherence to our own religious beliefs. We can't just wash our hands and say, "It must be God's will" or "The Bible clearly states..." when in fact it actually doesn't. God has given us a job to do and that job isn't to put stumbling blocks in the way of people who are already crawling because they don't have the strength or resources to walk. The Hobby Lobby decision will keep a lot of people crawling and put a lot of stumbling blocks in the way. There are already reverberations that restrict others even more, especially women.

What part of "Do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God" don't we get? Aren't we responsible for believing that?

Originally published at Daily Episcopalian on Episcopal Café Friday, July 11, 2014.

The Staff of God

Water from the Rock

17From the wilderness of Sin the whole congregation of the Israelites journeyed by stages, as the Lord commanded. They camped at Rephidim, but there was no water for the people to drink. ²The people quarrelled with Moses, and said, ‘Give us water to drink.’ Moses said to them, ‘Why do you quarrel with me? Why do you test the Lord?’ ³But the people thirsted there for water; and the people complained against Moses and said, ‘Why did you bring us out of Egypt, to kill us and our children and livestock with thirst?’ ⁴So Moses cried out to the Lord, ‘What shall I do with this people? They are almost ready to stone me.’ ⁵The Lord said to Moses, ‘Go on ahead of the people, and take some of the elders of Israel with you; take in your hand the staff with which you struck the Nile, and go. ⁶I will be standing there in front of you on the rock at Horeb. Strike the rock, and water will come out of it, so that the people may drink.’ Moses did so, in the sight of the elders of Israel. ⁷He called the place Massah^* and Meribah,^* because the Israelites quarrelled and tested the Lord, saying, ‘Is the Lord among us or not?’

Amalek Attacks Israel and Is Defeated

8Then Amalek came and fought with Israel at Rephidim. ⁹Moses said to Joshua, ‘Choose some men for us and go out; fight with Amalek. Tomorrow I will stand on the top of the hill with the staff of God in my hand.’ ¹⁰So Joshua did as Moses told him, and fought with Amalek, while Moses, Aaron, and Hur went up to the top of the hill. ¹¹Whenever Moses held up his hand, Israel prevailed; and whenever he lowered his hand, Amalek prevailed. ¹²But Moses’ hands grew weary; so they took a stone and put it under him, and he sat on it. Aaron and Hur held up his hands, one on one side, and the other on the other side; so his hands were steady until the sun set. ¹³And Joshua defeated Amalek and his people with the sword.

14 Then the Lord said to Moses, ‘Write this as a reminder in a book and recite it in the hearing of Joshua: I will utterly blot out the remembrance of Amalek from under heaven.’ ¹⁵And Moses built an altar and called it, The Lord is my banner. ¹⁶He said, ‘A hand upon the banner of the Lord! ^* The Lord will have war with Amalek from generation to generation.’ -- Exodus 17:1-16

Say the word "staff" and everybody usually thinks of the employees of a corporation or perhaps a group of officers in charge of administration. Watch Downton Abbey and you can see the staff trying to be unobtrusive while enabling the family upstairs to enjoy a pampered life. They are proud to be staff in a great house; it's a status thing. To be Chief of Staff indicates that a person is the head of a group of officers who assist in the administration of a company or an army. At one time Moses was driving himself crazy trying to do everything himself until his father-in-law, Jethro, told him to gather up a staff and delegate. It was a pretty good idea. Moses was much more efficient and a lot less tired at the end of the day, his routine tasks got done while he could spend time on the more difficult things, and he was raising up a new generation of leaders. It was a win-win thing.

There's another kind of staff, though, like the one mentioned in today's reading. This kind of staff was a tool common to many parts of the world and had a number of uses. It served as a walking stick to help one keep one's footing on rough terrain. Kings carried ornamental staffs to show their power and position. Shepherds had a staff to beat bushes to drive off snakes and predators or tap the flanks of sheep to urge them to move in a desired direction. Those staffs usually had a bend or hook in one end that could be used to lift lambs and sheep out of holes and crevices. Since Moses had  done a stint as a shepherd to his father-in-law's flocks, he had a sturdy staff at hand when he encountered a burning bush and the staff became more than just a chunk of wood.

A staff is only as good as the one guiding it. In Moses' case, God had a firm hand on it making it do a lot of things an ordinary staff in ordinary hands couldn't do. God turned it into a snake and just about gave Moses a coronary, but it taught Moses something: when God said to do something with the staff (or with Aaron's staff as well), it was going to be something important. In the first story of the reading, Moses had a problem with the Israelites. It's hard to blame them; it can't have been a lot of fun wandering around in a place with no restaurants, water fountains or other amenities around every corner. God told Moses to take his staff and go to a place and strike a rock on which God would be standing and there would be water. Moses did what he was told and the people had water to drink.

In the second story, Moses referred to his walking stick as the "staff of God." Standing on a hill overlooking a battle ground between Joshua and his soldiers against the Amalekites, when Moses raised his hand with the staff, the Israelites gained the upper hand in the struggle. When his hand got tired, though, and he lowered it with the staff in it, the Amalekite forces prevailed. The staff itself couldn't make Moses' hand untiring and steady, but it did seem to give renewed strength and power to the forces fighting below.

Sometimes God gives us a tool to use that we might not recognize as being there. It's probably not something physical like a wooden staff but it is something that is useful not just for us. Perhaps it is a skill or a talent or perhaps a passion for doing something that benefits us when we use it to benefit others. Sometimes a person is particularly called by God to a certain kind of mission and, in answering the call, becomes like the staff of God -- something or someone through whom God acts.

I think that even without the direct call, each of us has something within us that God can use as God did Moses' staff. We just have to wake up, realize it is there and utilize its potential.

We don't always need a staff to provide water for the thirsty. Look around. Where is a need that touches the heart? It doesn't matter that we are just individual people and, as individuals, we think we can't really make much of a difference. Look at Mother Teresa or Martin Luther King Jr. or even the charitable works of someone like Bill Gates. One person can make a difference if they choose to act like the staff of God.

After all, "staff" isn't always a piece of wood; it is also an employee or support worker for a person or organization. God needs God's staff to bring about the kingdom and that staff is all of us.

Originally published at Speaking to the Soul on Episcopal Café Saturday, May 3, 2014.

What About Fred?

Fred Phelps is dead. The founder and patriarch of the Westboro Baptist Church (WBC) died in Topeka, Kansas, Wednesday, March 19^th, of an undisclosed illness. He was 84 at the time of his death. Fred Phelps and his church are highly recognizable names to much of America, and that was (and is) the way they want it.

Phelps and his followers are most known for their picketing of funerals of those with whom they vehemently disagree:  those who died of AIDS, young gay men like Matthew Shepard and even the very straight Jerry Falwell who, in the opinion of the WBC, didn’t go far enough in condemning homosexuality. They picketed the funerals of soldiers killed in Iraq and Afghanistan, claiming that God struck them down for defending the US and its increasing acceptance of homosexuality.  

Their fame, or notoriety, grew through those outrageous public acts which they claimed as freedom of speech and freedom of religion.  The church, mostly made up of Phelps’ family members, included a number of lawyers all too ready to file suit against anyone who curtail their appearances or rights to be as vocal and obnoxious as they chose.  One case against them went all the way to the Supreme Court which ruled that they could not be sued for monetary damages resulting from mental or physical anguish caused by the WBC’s demonstration at a family funeral.  The WBC was guaranteed the right of free speech – but the door was also opened for other groups, on any side of a given issue, to have their say, no matter whether or not they conformed to what was generally considered the religious or social norms of the majority.  

As Phelps aged, he went out less and less, leaving the active demonstrating to his family. Gradually, it seems, his influence with the church also waned and leadership of the congregation changed to non-family members. According to some news reports, Phelps was excommunicated from the church he had founded because he had endeavored to create a kinder relationship among church members. Somehow, given the images of Fred Phelps, the word “kind” does not seem to fit. Who knows? Away from the spotlight he might have been a real prince.  

Members of the WBC appeared to indicate that Phelps would not have a funeral because the church does not believe in “Worshipping the dead,” as they stated it.  How ironic that the man who picketed so many funerals would not be having one of his own, but then, perhaps it is just as well. For some, the opportunity to retaliate in kind might just be too strong to resist. 

One thing I wonder, though, is if there is anyone who is really mourning Fred Phelps?  His family seems divided between those who left the church years ago and were estranged from the patriarch and those who stayed on and carried on the mission he had laid before them.  There are reports of abuse from some of Phelps’s many children, but others say he took a Biblical view of punishment and did it strictly by Biblical standard.  But do any of them mourn his passing?  Certainly the WBC isn’t draping itself in funereal black and planning a grand sendoff for the founder of their congregation. The communiqué on their website is a scripture-laced (if highly selective choice and interpretation of text) condemnation of much of what mainstream (and even outside-the-mainstream) Christian communities stand for.

 The GLBTI community, people who have probably more reason to rejoice than just about anybody, has those who have expressed joy and relief that Fred is no longer among the living. On the other hand, there are also a number who have expressed their belief that God will judge Phelps and that they had no need or right to do so. There have been prayers offered for him, just as for anyone who has died.  Some too have offered forgiveness for the unrepentant Phelps. They take the words of Jesus very much to heart and forgive for their own soul’s sake as much as to release any ill will and resentment against him.

 In a way, it is said that Fred Phelps did gays, lesbians, bisexuals, transgenders and intersexed persons (GLBTIs) a kindness with his rhetoric of hate and outrageous public behavior. People looked at the WBC and its antics and began to see GLBTIs in a slightly different light, especially as family members and friends began to come out. How odd that the current climate of growing acceptance of equality between straights and GLBTIs began with such hatred and malice. There is still a long way to go before globally and even here in the United States that GLBTIs can enjoy all the rights and benefits their straight counterparts already enjoy, but it getting closer. It seems almost ironic that such progress could begin with someone like Fred Phelps and his religion of hatred and judgment.

 So what now for poor Fred?  Is his fate to be laid in a wooden box and whisked away to an undisclosed grave where he will become part of the regeneration of the earth but without any kind of marker to attract unwanted attention?  Will he become another resident in a local cemetery that will grow into a tourist attraction? Will he be cremated and his ashes scattered to the four winds? Has he reached the pearly gates and had God say in a kindly voice, “Hullo, Fred, I’ve been waiting for you. Come on over here; I have a few things to explain to you …” or perhaps he’s been met by Matthew Shepard and all those whose funerals he tried so hard to disrupt?

 Still, I have to wonder, is there anyone to mourn Fred and to grieve for the man who made a decision to fight the civil law instead of defending it and instead to push for his version of God’s law instead of following the footsteps of Jesus?  Will anyone regret his passing and miss his presence in their lives? 

 Fred Phelps was and is not the only person of his kind, but was undoubtedly the most openly vocal and visible about it, saying loudly and often crudely things that some think but dare not express aloud. There are still those who openly agree with every word he said and applaud every public demonstration of those words. Conversely, there are some who are on the exact opposite end of the scale with most others falling in between the two.

 The Westboro Baptist Church will go on with its same activities, under new leadership,  raising up a new generation to follow in its footsteps.  The world will continue turning and life will go on, sometimes changing laterally, sometimes regressing, sometimes progressing.  Fred Phelps is now a part of history and, as a baptized Christian, part of the Communion of Saints although I suspect he will never be listed in the bracket for Lent Madness*. I wonder if, in a hundred years or even fifty years, people will look back and wonder about Fred Phelps and pray that he has received the justice and mercy God promises to all.

 Rest in peace, Fred. 

 

 *Lent Madness is a wonderfully informative and highly amusing Lenten practice from the publishing house that brings us the daily devotional Forward Day by Day.  It features  saints both ancient and modern pitted against each other in a format much like that of the NCAA.  To see it in action, please visit Lent Madness.org and join in the contest.

 

Originally published at Daily Episcopalian on Episcopal Café, Saturday, March 23, 2014, under the title "Fred Phelps is dead."

America la Maganda

During the Super Bowl, one of the highlights (and sometimes low lights) is the commercials. Advertisers spend millions of dollars to produce the best commercials they can come up with and more millions to purchase a small time slot on a Sunday afternoon/evening in January every year. They know that a great commercial can sway public opinion and bring more revenue into their coffers, but some also like to have some sort of message over and above “Buy my product;” they like to take a stand for something besides chips in a bowl or some sort of beverage. As in the sporting event itself, there are winners and losers in the commercial wars, and this year was no exception.  

Most writers seemed to agree on in the outstanding category was the Coke commercial featuring scenes of Americans living their lives in various places and in various ways while the voices of young women soloists sang a song that is iconic in the United States, “America the Beautiful.” The video was lovely, the voices of the young women clear and sweet, and the whole package seemed almost flawless. Yet there has been almost a firestorm of condemnation and anger about this very beautiful and meaningful celebration of not just product but national pride and diversity. The cause? “America the Beautiful” was sung in English – and Hindi, Tagalog, Spanish and several other languages that clearly were NOT English.  

People were up in arms that the words to such a song could be sung in any language other than English. How dare Coke foist such a disgusting misuse of a national anthem (some even referred to it as “the” national anthem) on an unsuspecting nation? We are Americans and Americans speak English is their cry. Anybody who comes here should either speak only English or go back where they came from. Xenophobia is alive and well in the United States of America, land of the free, home of the brave and, apparently, the seat of E Pluribus Unum, Out of Many, One, which now seems to be only those who look, act and speak like us, whoever “us” is.  

Instead of using the term “melting pot” we now use “diversity” and, for some, “diversity” is a very bad word indeed, almost worse than some of the scatological and carnal words and phrases that are heard on almost every street corner, school hallway and locker room, and even over backyard fences in “nice” neighborhoods. And this Coke commercial? It celebrated diversity by having young women sing a familiar song in more than the original language in which it was composed. In celebrating diversity, it has helped to expose the fact that we don’t believe in the basic right to freedom, including the right to speak in their own languages and dialects in this country; we only want others to be like us in every way. It’s funny, but I bet none of these people complaining about the commercial have any problem singing “Silent Night” at Christmas (it was originally written in German) among other translated classics. Music is universal, poetry and sentiment as well as news and inspirational writings are translated into many languages and dialects every day, so what is so sacred about “America the Beautiful” that it can’t speak to others in Hebrew or Mandarin as well as in English? Even the Bible is written in many languages other than its original (of which there is no “original” copy) without losing its power, beauty and meaning. 

In first-century Palestine, the land Jesus knew, there were numerous small towns and villages where individual clans and tribes made their home and probably spoke their own dialect of Aramaic. Those involved in trade such as merchants, skilled laborers, innkeepers, and those working for the government probably all spoke not just their local version of Aramaic but Koine Greek, possibly a bit of Latin, maybe a dash of Hebrew and perhaps even a pinch or two of Demotic. Most towns and villages didn’t have many immigrants but some probably did, and Jesus, as an itinerant preacher/teacher/healer, would have undoubtedly been able to make his message understood no matter to whom he spoke. The Samaritan woman and the Roman Centurion probably didn’t speak the same dialect or maybe even language, yet Jesus seemed to be able to speak to both of them in very clear and understandable ways. And so it went also for the individuals and crowds with whom he came in contact. The only ones he seemed to have trouble with were the Pharisees and that didn’t have anything to do with the language they each spoke, only the interpretation of that language. 

Does the message of Jesus become diluted or unsuitable because Jesus didn’t speak English and we don’t speak the original language (whatever language that was) in which he expressed so many of his teachings? His message was to draw people together, regardless of whether or not they were members of the same clan, nation or even language group. What amazes me (and amuses me in a sad sort of way) is that we think nothing about truly sacred words of the Bible that we read being translations of translations, versions of versions and interpretations of interpretations of a message that wasn’t in English or even in a language commonly spoken today, Koine Greek. Yet we raise a huge fuss over the lyrics of a secular song extolling the beauty of the country and the freedom we have to enjoy it.  

What a strange world we live in that we begrudge them the joy of expression of the blessings and beauty of our land or any land simply based on the language they use to express that joy. What would Jesus think?


Originally published at Daily Episcopalian on Episcopal Café Saturday, February15, 2014.

An Epiphany Essay

I like Epiphany. After Advent, it's my very favorite season. Unlike Advent, though, or even Christmas, or Lent, it is a variable-length season of four to nine Sundays between the date of Epiphany itself (January 6) and the beginning of Lent, which, this year, is March 30, ensuring a long Epiphany season. It celebrates the coming of the Magi to the Christ Child on the day and the manifestation of God in human flesh, the light lf Christ coming into the world throughout the season.

For me, a sad part of Epiphany is the darkening of the Christmas lights that made the December nights brighter and more hopeful. I admit to being a sucker for Christmas lights, even though I don't put any on my own house. Luckily, I have a neighbor who throws herself into the season whole-heartedly and decorates enough for both of us. They have been taken down now and put away for the next eleven months, but here and there on my way to work are still the odd houses with lights glowing. Without those little points of light, life seems a bit bleaker.

I don't have any studies to prove it, but my personal theory is that it is easier to be depressed in January than in just about any other month. People may argue for December because Christmas without all the trimmings (and the people) can be a lonely affair, but, at least in my eyes, the thought of a new year is like a stretch of Route 66 that was as straight as an arrow and went on for what seemed like half a million miles with absolutely nothing much in the way of scenery and the mountains that loomed in the distance never seeming to get any closer. It's easy to get depressed in January; all the parties and whoop-de-doo of Christmas are over, tax season approacheth, it's still winter and the turning of the calendar is a reminder that change is coming, whether we want it to or not. Babies will be born, elders (and often much beloved elders) will die, the economy and the state of the nation and the world will continue to wobble like an egg rolling downhill, and the heroes we raise today will be found tomorrow to have feet of very real clay.

But then there's Epiphany, the season. It's the spark of light that reminds us that just as everything has an ending, new things come along to engage us. Epiphanies are also sudden insights and flashes of Godlight that are like the V-8 commercial. They smack a person in the forehead. It's looking at something seemingly ordinary and plain and suddenly having the lenses change and the thing appears in a whole new light, a whole different way, a 180° turn. It's an idea that wasn't there a second ago but suddenly rocks a personal world with its suddenness and (potential) brilliance. It's seeing that homeless person hunched over a formerly abandoned grocery cart filled with bags and boxes that contain every single thing they own and suddenly seeing nail marks in their hands or a circlet of thorns instead of a watch cap on their heads. Things like that can happen all year but Epiphany is a reminder to be on the lookout for those new insights and changes of perspective.

The nights of the Epiphany season are still dark and cold but the nights are getting shorter, day by day, minute by minute. The green vestments and hangings of the church remind us that spring will be here -- whether sooner or later, it will come. We have celebrated the manifestation of God among us, but we can also carry the spark of new fire, new light, new hope and new insights. All we have to do is look.


Originally published at Daily Episcopalian at Episcopal Café Thursday, February 6, 2014, under the title "Epiphany: a season of endings and beginnings"

Last Words

Now these be the last words of David. David the son of Jesse said, and the man who was raised up on high, the anointed of the God of Jacob, and the sweet psalmist of Israel, said,
The Spirit of the Lord spake by me, and his word was in my tongue.

 The God of Israel said, the Rock of Israel spake to me, He that ruleth over men must be just, ruling in the fear of God.

 And he shall be as the light of the morning, when the sun riseth, even a morning without clouds; as the tender grass springing out of the earth by clear shining after rain. -- 2 Samuel 23:1-4 (KJV)

We're often intrigued by the last words of celebrities and people we know. What were the last words they uttered as they died? Not everybody gets the chance to utter last words, but to those around them at the time, they often have an impact, even if it poses a question.

Take, for instance, the last words of Giles Corey, a man who was tried in the Salem Witch Trials and condemned to death by crushing. His last words? "More weight."  St Lawrence, tortured to death by being roasted on a grill is alleged to have said words to the effect of "Turn me over, I'm done on this side." I'm sure a lot of people have called on Jesus or God at their last breath, and some, like Steve Jobs, could simply say something like "Oh wow. Oh wow. Oh wow." Even Jesus' last words were remembered although differently by the gospelers. Matthew and Mark give his last words as "My God, My God, why hast thou forsaken me?", a quotation from Psalm 22. Luke's gospel records the last words as "Father, into Thy hands I commit my spirit." John states that he simply cried, "It is finished!"

The other day I heard a piece of music I hadn't heard in some time but which I have sung with various choirs since I was in high school.  The tune, written by Randall Thompson, is haunting but the words, well, the words are some that maybe should be pronounced rather frequently, especially now with things in such a mess in this country and the world. 

Looking at David's history with Uriah and others, his opening statement, "He that ruleth over men must be just" seems, in one light, a bit self-congratulatory. Or maybe he's being introspective and repentant for the times he messed things up by being unjust. The point is, though, that rulers must have a sense of justice that doesn't mean just pleasing themselves or their best buddies but also for the folks they don't particularly like or agree with on a lot of things but who, in that particular case, have the right end of the stick. I think some of our contemporary politicians have forgotten that.

"Ruling in the fear of God" is probably somewhat problematic for some, especially those who stoutly affirm that there is no God and that they don't believe in God anyway. I think the ones who need to hear that message are the ones who are so certain that they KNOW precisely what it is God wants and they're going to get it regardless of what happens to other people. It seems God in God's wisdom put a lot of "care for the widows and orphans" talk into the Bible so why do we get so much talk about God blessing the rich and claiming the blessing to acquire yet more stuff, including money, power and privilege?  It isn't only atheists and believers in gods other than the Christian one who may have a problem with the statement. In fact, they could be following the tenets of God far closer than a lot who proudly announce themselves God's followers.

"And he shall be as the light of the morning, when the sun riseth, even a morning without clouds" is such a beautiful image. It's an even better description of someone who deliberately follows the ways of God and who treats his brothers and sisters, even the adopted and unknown ones, with kindness, justice and compassion. In this age of instant communications, it's often more common to hear about the injustices done in the name of the people, the corporate sins of our commercial sector and even the abuses in our churches than to see bright examples of leadership done for the benefit of the people who don't have a voice of their own. There are some, though, and they are like campfires on the distant hills, a reminder that some really do have the best interests of the poor, the sick, the oppressed and the disadvantaged at heart. The lights may not light up the sky, but they testify that those lamps are lit and not just sitting there waiting for a match to light them.

"[A]s the tender grass springing out of the earth by clear shining after rain" evokes the renewal of the earth that comes when rain falls and suddenly all sorts of things spring to life and bloom almost joyously. Living in the desert we see it nearly every time we have our infrequent rains. It doesn't even have to be a gully-washer for it to happen; even a half-hour shower will do. So can be with just one person, one ruler who is just and who looks to do good for the all the people and not just the cronies who finance his campaigns or promise him luxuries in return for favoritisms. Can I imagine what it could be like if there were a whole lot of those?  I can stretch my imagination but I know God already has done that, stretched the imagination to include a whole world full of tender shoots of grass springing up after a shower of justice if the desire is there within them.

David may never have spoken those words but the poetry of them certainly reflects the imagery and cadence of the psalms attributed to him. I still wonder, though, were they said as advice or as contrition? As an ideal or as an unrealized potential?  Or maybe they were a vision of the kingdom that could be if, in the words of Amos, we "...let justice roll on like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream" (5:24, NRSV).

I listened to the musical version of this reading again and this time I saw David in the prime of his life, dancing before the Lord, uniting the kingdom, treating the people with fairness and concern. Still, David, like all of us, probably went to the bosom of Abraham with regrets and repentance but trying to leave a map for those who succeeded him to follow to avoid some of the pitfalls into which he fell. David's sun rose on a young and promising life and new hope was born in Israel. On his deathbed the sun set on that life but his memory lived in his people, even down through a thousand generations. What a legacy. I wonder how many of our rulers will fare as well or for as long?  Maybe we should play "The Last Words of David" for them and ask that they think about it?

Sometimes music will touch hearts that words alone simply can't reach.


The Last Words of David
composed by Randall Thompson, performed by the Rutgers University Chorus.


Originally published at Daily Episcopalian on Episcopal Café Saturday, November 23, 2013. 

Sama the Prodigal

One of my boys went walkabout for a bit this morning. I had held the door open for just a few seconds too long and out he went, tail straight up with enthusiasm and racing away as if celebrating a release from jail. He hadn't done this for a couple of years and I thought I had made his life pleasant enough that he wouldn't do it again but I was wrong. He exemplified carpe diem to the max.

Ok, I'm talking about one of my three boy cats (my little girl doesn't mind being lumped with them as long as she gets her share of attention and treats), the four of whom constitute my main reason for getting up in the morning. To them I am staff -- not mistress, not always mom, but always staff to wait on them, clean up after them, provide their meals and facilities, and give out frequent pats, scritches and occasional treats.

Back to Sama, the walkabout cat.  He was out of sight before I could say "Boo" or even, "Here, Sama!" I got him within sight but he bounded off behind the neighbor's trailer. I went to the far side of her lot but no Sama. Calling gently so as not to upset the neighbors I walked around but still no Sama. I went back in the house for a few minutes and went out again. He was over by the rosebush by one of the sheds, eating grass.  I called him again and was roundly ignored. I went back in the house. I came back out a few more minutes later to find no Sama so I walked back to the back and then over to the other side of my neighbor's house. No Sama -- until I looked at the rosemary bush next to the step up to the patio. There I saw big yellow eyes, a black face and a red collar. Unfortunately, he wasn't ready to be reasonable and come back in the house but instead he disappeared again. I went back in the house. A few more minutes and when I looked outside, there he was near the front stoop. Here's my chance, I thought. This time I wasn't going barehanded.  I had a plan.

Treats for the boys are truly that -- very occasional special stuff that they have to take turns getting. I think of it as a feline form of communion. If a cat sits there and waits his/her turn, s/he gets a treat from the package. And they know the sound of that package being removed from the drawer next to my desk. Oh, yes. One little rustle of the package and I usually have four furry friends in the immediate vicinity. This morning I only had three when I opened the package but I still had a plan.  Sama was out on the patio, near the door and so I opened it and rustled the package while saying softly, "Sama, treat!" There was a flicker of interest but not much. I put a couple in my hand so he could see they would be there and opened the door a bit wider. FAIL.  Off he went back to the rosebush again.

Back in the house for a few more minutes. Look outside, no Sama. Wait a few more -- and there he was by the stoop again. This time I went out with the package and rustled it. Hmmm. A flicker of interest, it appeared.  He seemed to be in the mood for petting so I stroked the end of his tail, the only part of him I could reach. Ok, we were back on more familiar ground. He presented his ears and then his back and then his ears again. This time I managed to get off the stoop, scoop him up and, with him purring mightily, back into the house. Needless to say, everybody got another round of treats, but this time in small piles here and there so that everybody got some, including Sama. Within a couple of minutes he was stretched out on my desk, no doubt contemplating the greater world outside vs. the comfort (and treats) inside. Now he's on the top cradle of the cat-tree, looking out the front window and no doubt planning his next foray which, I"m afraid, will be the next time I open the door to go in or out.

During this whole thing I thought about the story of the prodigal son and thought that perhaps it would do to pay a little attention to the story of the anxious father. We get most of the story from the POV of the prodigal, what he did while he was gone, his thought processes and his reflective journey back to what would probably be a sort of jail without bars. If he were lucky, he would be able to count on at least a job tending animals but he knew too that his father wouldn't let any of his workers go hungry or homeless. Meanwhile, though, what of the father?  The story tells of the older brother who has been working hard, doing what he was supposed to do and not being very happy about having his inheritance diminished and one less hand around the place to help with the work. But the father?  What of him? 

I thought about my Sama outside in a world he really doesn't know anything about except that it is big and it has a lot of alluring things in it: grass to chew, other cats to chase, lots of different smells to sniff, places to rub, and things to investigate that never show up inside the house. The prodigal had a great time on his walkabout but I was a wreck. What if he got hit by a car?  Even with a posted speed of 5 mph, cars zip by this house like it was a speedway or something sometimes. What if another cat attacked him for being an interloper?  What if he got lost and couldn't find his way home?  What if, what if, what if?  I imagine the prodigal's father had those same kinds of thoughts and, I imagine, he probably went to the door a dozen times a day, hoping to see a familiar figure coming down the road. I know the frustration and fear he would have felt, hoping against hope but not seeing the one thing he most wanted to see.

Luckily, both stories have happy endings with the prodigals returning home and a celebration following. What I am left with is a contemplation of what it means to love and lose, even if briefly and even if the prodigal is only out of sight for a few minutes. While I realize the story of the prodigal son was a parable Jesus told to illustrate how much God loves me (and all the other prodigals in the world), it took Sama to make me look at it through a different set of lenses, that of the father who gave his son the freedom he desired and who never stopped looking for him to return home safely.

It makes me also realize that all the characters in the story are me at some time or other in my life. Today, though, I'm the rejoicing parent. My prodigal is once again home, a celebration has been held and things are (more or less) back to normal. 

Thanks be to God.


Originally published at Daily Episcopalian on Episcopal Café Friday, November 8, 2013, under the title "Prodigal cat."

An Epiphany

I had to clean the debris out of my purse again recently.  It seems to get cluttered up with bits of paper, essentials like my iPod, Kindle and cell phone, pens, ChapSticks and just about anything else that will fit in there.  In the process, I ran across a small printed piece of paper that’s been in there for who knows how long. I have no idea where I got it, but there it was. 
 

I was hungry and you formed a humanities club and discussed my hunger. Thank you.
I was imprisoned and you crept off quietly to your chapel in the cellar and prayed for my release.
I was naked and in your mind you debated the morality of my appearance.
I was sick and you knelt and thanked God for your health.
I was homeless and you preached to me about the spiritual shelter of the love of God.
I was lonely and you left me alone to pray for me.
Christian, you seem so holy; so close to God But I'm still very hungry, and lonely, and cold... 

John Stott wrote this based on a passage from Matthew 25, and it almost defies the reader to ignore it. Now, when it seems that the safety nets of the poorest and neediest of our citizens are being swiftly cut it seems more applicable than ever. What in the world are we doing?

Some insist we are a “Christian” nation but how can we be if we ignore the very people Jesus spoke about the most – the poor, the ill, the widows and orphans? How can we claim it if we enable the rich to get richer while the poor only get poorer? Whether we are Christian, a member of some other religion or no religion at all, we all bear a share of the blame.

The health of our nation depends on the health of its people, and our score right now is low and getting lower. Cuts to education, the elderly, the working poor, the children and the marginalized are weakening us on many fronts. Involvement in wars in other countries doesn’t win us many friends abroad as we penalize the soldiers and veterans who do the fighting by cutting their housing, training and benefits which doesn’t win us many friends at home. Our children are less able to excel in the world education standings and our old people are treated almost like freeloaders and nuisances. The homeless are almost invisible, even as they lie on the sidewalks and park benches. Who cares? Obviously not big business or even our own elected officials.

Matthew records Jesus’ words about the sick, the hungry, the imprisoned and the marginalized but he also recorded something that should be uppermost in the minds of any Christian, “Whatever you did to the members of my family, you did it to me.” Of course, the ones who ignored those same people received the opposite message and a condemnation. It seems we pick and choose which instructions from Jesus we want to follow and too often the ones we look at are the ones that line up with our personal wants and desires.

Some preachers preach against the “social gospel,” preferring to encourage the “name it and claim it” or “prosperity gospel” instead. They put the focus on “I/me/mine” rather than “ours.” There are also some politicians who seem to put the prosperity gospel ahead of the social one when they hang on to the benefits they receive as elected officials while cutting the possibility of those same kinds of benefits for others. Christianity, whether preached by ministers or practiced by politicians, isn’t about “I/me/mine,” just as Christianity practiced by so many ordinary folks. Jesus didn’t restrict his teachings or his healings to people who voted for him, gave him big campaign contributions, practiced Judaism or even were from his own family or town.

I wonder what Jesus would say if he walked around our country today? He’d probably thank us for our prayers for the poor and suffering but ask what were we actually doing to fix the problem. He’d probably want to disown the lot of us because we’re all part of the problem unless we’re part of the solution. That being part of the solution is the tricky part, though. It means giving up some of the “I/me/mine” and handing it out to the “them,” in short, making the “I” “us.”

It occurs to me that I have a responsibility to do something, anything that can make even the smallest difference. The epiphany produced by Stott’s words need to have an action to complete it.  What am I willing to do about the problem?  And what are others willing to do in turn?  Our future hangs in the balance. And Jesus is watching.

 

Originally published at Daily Episcopalian on Episcopal Café Thursday, October 3, 2013.