Thoughts and Musings on Faith, Music, Family, Life

Good news from the Factivist

He's also the frontman for a rock band I'm pretty fond of, as evidenced in a recent blog post. For years, Bono has been out there telling the world that we need to step it up in the fight against poverty. Now, in this recent TED Talk, he tells us that what we're doing is working and that we need to keep it up. As only an Irish lyricist can put it, "We can't get this done until we really accept that we can get this done."

Let's get this done. It'll be a Beautiful Day when we do (sorry, couldn't resist).

(Click HERE if the video clip doesn't show above. Oh, and be advised, as there's a tiny bit of adult language and humor involved).

Imagine when...

I was catching a cup of coffee after a presbytery meeting at my favorite coffee house in Winston-Salem, Krankies.  I had my computer with me and was going to work on a sermon, because that's what I'm always doing, and because I tend to do my best sermonizing when coffee is involved.  Anyway, I grabbed my cup of Kenyan and sat down at a table in the corner, and when I looked up at the wall next to me this is what I saw:

It's called an "Imagination Installation," a local movement of sorts in the area; and per its website it's about "harnessing the collective power of our community's dreams."  Which, in case you're wondering, is awesome.  So was this wall - dozens of small lime green signs tacked and taped all over the place, each with the simple title "Imagine When...."at the top,  and lots of space underneath for folks to write whatever.

So the sermon would have to wait awhile, because in truth I was looking at tons of little sermons on the wall of this coffee house, and it's always good when the preacher gets preached too. Here are a few that particularily spoke to me:

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...the word "can't" is lost from the spoken language

...people "make each other right"

...we decide to invest in happiness instead of war and hatred.

...nutritiuous local food is abundantly available everywhere and is preferred

...elected officials work for the good of the people, not for the power of the office

...human beings realize we are stewards of this earth, and no more important than any other living being

...we are not strangers

...there is a woman in the White House!

...we recognize that "the kingdom of God is here" (no waiting required)

..very child can squish mud between his or her toes in a creek

..we dream together to empower each other, rather than live in isolation

...we grow food rather than lawns, and share that food with our community

..we all Iive in the moments like our dogs, cats and horses do.

...our economic system rewards cooperation, collaboration and generosity over competition

...we all realize we are happier the more we give and love others, rather than how much we get and are loved.

...public art is on every corner in downtown Winston-Salem

...we know that life comes from death

...color is a hue that a painter uses to transform the canvas :-)

...the health care system is healed

..all pets have an owner that is loving and caring and a comfortable place to be

...corporations figure out that creativity and innovation comes from liberated, encouraged and respected employees

...children and adults go outside and play every day

...education rewards innovation and creativity more than compliance

...every child comes home at the end of school to a loving family member and a plate of cookies and milk

...each of us life our lives with respect and honor of all living beings

...we all remember that we're one big family

...people have the courage to be themselves

...we all let our authentic selves shine!

**************

Of course, I got in on the act. Here's the one I did.  If you know me, this should come as no surprise:


You know what I liked most about this excellent use of coffee house wall space? It's "Imagine When," not "Imagine If."  It's only a matter of time, folks.  Let's get busy.

Kickin' back at the Wild Goose

Here's the first thing you need to know about the Wild Goose Festival: it's hot. As in temperature-hot. This is to be expected when you host an event in the heart of North Carolina at the end of June. It's going to be steamy.

Here's the second thing you need to know about the Wild Goose festival: it's a Christian festival, but not that kind of Christian festival. Taking its name from a Celtic symbol for unpredictability, beauty and grace, the Wild Goose Festival describes itself on its website as "a community creating a festival at the intersection of justice, spirituality and art."   Think Woodstock for Christian hippies without the drug use and with clothing.

And here's the third thing you need to know about the Wild Goose Festival, as stated by one of the organizer in their welcome Thursday (and I'm paraphrasing here): "If you are here because you know the truth and you want to make sure everyone else knows the same truth you do, then we want to encourage you to use this festival as your own personal retreat of solitude and silence." This was met, incidentally, with wild applause.  At the Wild Goose Festval, you learn quickly that personal agendas and soapboxes are left at the Shakori Hills entrance, and open dialogue and mutual respect and love take their place.

I had heard about the Wild Goose Festival from some family friends who went last year and absolutely loved it.  A few months ago I was asked to play music for one of the noon "Sacred Space" worship services at the festival, and the family decided to tag along.  We camped out one night and enjoyed a solid 24+ hours of the Wild Goose experience - more than enough to whet our appetite for next year.

So, what goes on at the Wild Goose?  A number of things.  Great music, everywhere, all the time.  On stage (David Lamotte and Derek Webb were two that I saw) and all around Shakori Hills under the shade of trees, people jamming away.  Wonderful speakers; folks whose books I'd been reading for years.  Brian McLaren, Phyllis Tickle, Shane Claiborne, Jim Wallis - just to name a very few. Booths all over the grounds for everything from seminaries and colleges and book publishers to the group against torture, the organization promoting clean water (very appropriate given our state's current flirtation with fracking), racial equality, world missions - you pretty much name it, it was there.  All while camping with the family under the shade of a cluster of trees, and with some former Mount Airy friends we hadn't hung out with in years.

The cool thing about the Wild Goose Festival is that everyone just kind of hangs out with each other, including the speakers and musicians.  There are no walls separating the "names" from the masses, and that's exactly the point.  So it was nothing to see Brian McLaren "emerge" from his tent just a few campspots away from yours, or Phyllis Tickle chatting it up over a cup of cool lemonade with a young couple holding their two-year old daughter, or Derek Webb discussing favorite bands with the guy at the seminary booth.  It's what community should be about.

You never know what might happen when you throw a bunch of free-thinking spiritual types together in a confined space for five scorching days (did I mention it was hot?), but everyone behaved and was kind and courteous.  Just in the small taste my family and I got of it, there was an air of excitement and engagement over what God was doing there - a sense that Christianity does not have to be so narrowly defined by a certain segment of society that wants to describe it in negative terms and make it about a single set of issues.  I think that's what attracted me to it the most - a freedom to embrace a more comprehensive and complete view of the faith.  It's the kind of Christianity I wish others could see more often.

Here's a few pictures I took of the event, just to give you a taste of what my family's experience was like.  The video that follows will cast the net a little wider.  You should make plans to go next year.  I'm pretty sure we'll be there again.

Wildgoose West August 31-September 2, 2012 from Wild Goose on Vimeo.

The Hunger Games, Harry Potter, Star Wars and the Grand Canyon (the movie, not the place)

As usual, I'm a bit of a "Johnny-come-lately" to The Hunger Games.  I finished the book this past Saturday just in time to see the movie last night with a friend.  The movie kept pretty close to the book, a rarity for such transitions.  Cinematography was spot-on, as was the casting. Let me just say: Donald Sutherland creeps me out for no other reason than simply being Donald Sutherland.

My interest has been piqued by a lot of conversation bubbling up around the over-the-top violence chronicled in the books, highlighted in the horrific notion of kids killing kids.  I must admit this reaction suprises me to an extent.  We live in an actual world marred by immeasurable violence where kids are killing kids every single day - not just one day out of the year in some manufactured sporting event.  We know this exists, and yet most of us simply ignore it.  And yet we get our feathers ruffled over a book?

Okay, stepping off the soapbox now...

The thing that stands out for me in The Hunger Games is the way it engages (albeit brutally) a common motif in children's literature and movies: the nature of "good versus evil."  In that regard, this trilogy has a lot of company.  You don't have to look too far back to see Harry Potter in your rearview mirror.  C.S. Lewis' Perelandra and Madeleine L'Engle's A Wrinkle In Time are other trilogies in the same vein.  Even the Star Wars saga of my generation - and the new trilogy of the current one - follows suit. 

In a sense I guess it shouldn't surprise us that this theme continues to crop up in media intended for a younger audience but experienced by all.  Kids are much more perceptive than we give them credit for and much more in-tune to the brokenness of the world in which they live.  One night a few weeks ago, my youngest son and I were flipping channels and happened upon the story of the American solider who murdered women and children civilians in Afghanistan.  Before I had a chance to quickly switch it to something else per my protective parental instincts, my son pipes up: "Daddy, why did that man do that?  That was wrong."  I tried in my feeble way to unpack some of the purported reasons, except things of such a horrific nature don't have a nice, neat answer.  Likewise, we're left racking our brains as to how President Snow and the Capitol can wield their complete power over the twelve districts and fully engage their sadistic cravings in The Hunger Games.  There is good and there is not-good; and sometimes we're one and sometimes the other.  Try explaining that to a seven-year old.

In truth, stories like The Hunger Games appeal to our young people - and society in general - because they tell a story of unexplainable violence, power struggles, abuse of power, hunger, poverty, etc. that is part of the world they're trying to grow up in.  I'm inclined to think that's a big part of the reason why the books have sold so many copies and the movie made $25 million in its first night.  We don't know what to do in the face of that kind of "evil;" and in some ways we find ourselves sitting right next to Katniss on that fallen tree in the arena, bawling our eyes out. 

So, two thoughts.  First, I found this article particularly helpful - a review of the movie written by a pacifist, nonetheless - that talks about how these books do a fabulous job of indicting violence by portraying violence.  Worth a read.

Second, I can't help but think back to a very different movie that came out in 1991. Grand Canyon didn't have sadistic dictators, evil wizards or man-machine hybrids with a strong tendency for the dark side of the force; but it nevertheless dealt very poignantly with the nature of evil in one particular scene.  Near the beginning of the movie, Kevin Kline’s character has his car break down in a bad part of East L.A. and is waiting on a two truck when five young men drive by, stop, and tell him to get out of his car.  Things are about to take a turn for the worst when the tow truck finally arrives.  The driver, played by Danny Glover, recognizes what's going on and asks the one in charge to let him do his job.  He tells him he's crazy.  And that's when a tow truck driver offers this little tidbit of wisdom on the streets of east L.A.:

You know, the world ain’t supposed to work like this.  Maybe you don’t know that, but this ain’t the way it’s supposed to be.  I’m supposed to be able to do my job without you asking if I can.  That dude is supposed to be able to wait with his car without you ripping him off. Everything’s supposed to be different than what it is.

(Note: There's a great YouTube clip of this scene, but it's totally in Spanish. Just my luck).

Stories like The Hunger Games, Harry Potter, Star Wars and many others appeal to our young folks - and people of all ages - because in their own way they echo Danny Glover's words: Everything's supposed to be different than what it is.  We enjoy reading about those who seek to act on this - people with names like Katniss, Harry and his friends, Luke Skywalker and others.  What's even better, though, are those in the real world who are trying to do the same thing.  Hopefully books and movies like The Hunger Games (and I'm over halfway through the second book) will help us cherish these folks more, and perhaps even inspire us in some small way to add our own name to the list.

The Face of Homelessness and Scripture

The image to the right is what greeted me when I opened today's edition of the Winston-Salem Journal.  When "Matthew 25:35-36" is emblazoned across the front page of my morning newspaper, it's going to get my attention.

In so many ways this is an amazing story - a powerful portrayal of scripture, Jesus' message taking on a real face (30 of them, actually), bridging the divide between those with homes and those without, a man overcoming his own fears to follow his calling.  The result of which is an amazing poster that you can purchase HERE.  Proceeds go to benefit the Bethesda Center, a homeless shelter in Winston-Salem.

You can read about Dr. Ray Workman, the man behind the idea for the poster, and how it all came together HERE.  In fact, I'd highly encourage you to read it.  An inspiring an eye-opening story.

Stuff like this makes me wonder, "why didn't I think of this??"  Oh well.  I'm glad at least someone did.

The soup isn't all that bad

Most every Sunday in church I close with a benediction that is a hybrid of my own words and the words of Fred Craddock, professor at Candler School of Theology in Atlanta.  His words, I've always felt, are so profound:

Live simply, love generously, speak truthfully, pray daily, and leave everything else to God.

Craddock has a way with words that many of us can only admire from a distance - a master storyteller where the message hits you in the face, and he never has to explain what that message is.  You already know it before you realize you do.  There's a story in particular I was thinking about earlier today and thought I'd share it here. I'm not sure what made me think of it, but I'm glad I did.  Now it's your turn.  Enjoy.

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I was invited last year, in mid-October, to the University of Winnipeg in Canada to give two lectures, one Friday night and one Saturday morning.  I went.  I gave the one on Friday night.  As we left the lecture hall, it was beginning to spit a little snow.  I was surprised, and my host was surprised because he had written, “It’s too early for the cold weather, but you might bring a little windbreaker, a little light jacket.” 

The next morning when I got up, two or three feet of snow pressed against the door.  The phone rang, and my host said, “We’re all surprised by this.  In fact, I can’t come and get you to take you to the breakfast, the lecture this morning has been cancelled, and the airport is closed.  If you can make your way down the block and around the corner, there is a little depot, a bus depot, and it has a café.  I’m sorry.”  I said, “I’ll get around.  I put on that little light jacket; it was nothing.  I got my little cap and put it on; it didn’t even help me in the room.  I went into the bathroom and unrolled long sheets of toilet paper and made a nest in the cap so that it would protect my head against that icy wind.

I went outside, shivering.  The wind was cold, the snow was deep.  I slid and bumped and finally made it around the corner into the bus station.  Every stranded traveler in western Canada was in there, strangers to each other and to me, pressing and pushing and loud.  I finally found a place to sit, and after a lengthy time a man in a greasy apron came over and said, “What’ll you have?”  I said, “May I see a menu?” He said, “What do you want a menu for?  We have soup.”  I said, “What kind of soup do you have?”  And he said, “Soup.  You want some soup?”  I said, “That was what I was going to order – soup.” 

He brought the soup, and I put the spoon to it – Yuck!  It was the awfulest.  It was kind of gray looking; it was so bad I couldn’t eat it, but I sat there and put my hands around it.  It was warm, and so I sat there with my head down, my head wrapped in toilet paper, bemoaning and beweeping my outcast state with the horrible soup.  But it was warm, so I clutched it and stayed bent over my soup stove.

The door opened again.  The wind was icy, and somebody yelled, “Close the door!”  In came this woman clutching her little coat.  She found a place, not far from me.  The greasy apron came and asked, “What do you want?”  She said, “A glass of water.”  He brought her a glass of water, took out his tablet and said, “Now what’ll you have?”  She said, “Just the water.”  He said, “You have to order, lady.”  “Well, I just want a glass of water.”  “Look.  I have customers that pay – what do you think this is, a church or something?  Now what do you want?”  She said, “Just a glass of water and some time to get warm.” 

“Look, there are people that are paying here.  If you’re not going to order, you’ve got to leave!”  And he got real loud about it, so that everyone there could hear him.

So she got up to leave.  And almost as if rehearsed, everyone in that café got up and headed to the door.  If she was going to have to leave, they were as well.  And the man in the greasy apron saw this happening and blurted out, “All right, all right, she can stay.”  Everyone sat down, and he brought her a bowl of soup.

I said to the person sitting there by me, I said, “Who is she?”  He said, “I’ve never seen her before.” The place grew quiet, but I heard the sipping of that awful soup.  I said, “I’m going to try that soup again.”  I put my spoon to the soup – you know, it was not bad soup.  Everybody was eating this soup.  I started eating the soup, and it was pretty good soup.  I have no idea what kind of soup it was.  I don’t know what was in it, but I do recall when I was eating it, it tasted a little bit like bread and wine.  Just a little bit like bread and wine.

(from the book Craddock Stories by Fred Craddock, Chalice Press, 2001)

Beck's Hole-y Bible

Let me begin this post with a disclaimer of sorts - despite the individual's name in the title, this has nothing to do with politics.  It's true.  I want to say this up front because I know a lot of people (including some reading this blog) watch Glenn Beck's show and agree with what he says about our country, the federal government, health care and our president.  And that's fine - we are all certainly entitled to our opinions.

But this has nothing to do with that.  Instead it has everything to do with something he and I share in common, along with two billion other people around the world - the Christian faith.  And recently Beck made some pretty audacious statements about Christianity on one of his television shows:

I beg you, look for the words 'social justice' or 'economic justice' on your church Web site. If you find it, run as fast as you can. Social justice and economic justice, they are code words. Now, am I advising people to leave their church? Yes!"

To make sure he left no room for misunderstandings, Beck proceeded to hold up two cards: one with the hammer and sickle of Cold-war Communist Russia, and the other with a Nazi swastika.  The inference was clear: churches that use the code words "social justice" and "economic justice" are, in fact, communist and perpetrators of Nazism.

One would presume his advice wasn't intended to be limited to what can be found on the church website, either.  Certainly he would suggest that it be extrapolated to include the minister's sermon, prayers or liturgy used in worship, and any programs or ministries that dare to align themselves with such suspect elements.  And certainly it must include the very foundation of Christianity, the Bible itself.

And that's where we run into a little problem.

See, the thing is, there are just under 8000 verses in the entire Bible, Old and New Testament.  And multiple individuals well-versed (pun intended) in the field have noted that close to 2000 of them deal specifically with issues of - you guessed it - social justice and economic justice.  That's one-fourth of the Bible, for those of us who don't do fractions well (it was always my weak point in math). They're all over the place - here's just a quick sampling:

If there is a poor man among you....you shall not harden your heart, nor close your hand...but you shall freely open your hand to them, and generously lend them sufficient for their needs in whatever they lack (Deuteronomy 15:7)

I know that the LORD will maintain the cause of the afflicted, and justice for the poor (Psalm 140:12)

Do justice and righteousness, and deliver the one who has been robbed from the power of his oppressor.  Also, do not mistreat or do violence to the stranger, to the orphan or the widwo, and do not shed innocent blood in this place (Jeremiah 22:3)

Jesus said, Give to him who asks of you, and do not turn away from him who wants to borrow from you. (Matthew 5:42)

There's a lot more - some 1,996, I guess, but I'll spare you.  You get the idea.

All of which makes me wonder: what does Beck's Bible look like?  One must assume it doesn't contain these 2000 subversive and dangerous verses, of course.  Which is precisely the kind of Bible noted evangelist Jim Wallis remembers from his seminary days; a fellow student who took an old Bible and, to prove a point, cut out every verse that had anything to do with the poor and with social and economic justice.  And when he was done, as Wallis recalls, "that Bible was literally in shreds. It was falling apart in my hands. It was a Bible full of holes." (from God's Politics).  Which makes sense, since it was missing a full one-fourth of it.

This poses another conundrum: what exactly does Christianity look like with Beck's hole-y Bible?  Obviously there's no need to be concerned for the poor or the marginalized and oppressed.  Missions becomes purely evangelical in nature, concerned only for matters of the soul and not for individual well-being and welfare.  Caring for God's creation becomes an unnecessary distraction, too.  In fact, there's really not much that needs to be done at all with this life on earth, other than prepare ourselves for the life hereafter.  We're just wandering the planet, biding our time until the real show starts.

To be fair, this isn't the first time someone has sliced and diced the scriptures, either literally or figuratively.  Probably the most famous instance was the Jefferson Bible, an attempt by founding father Thomas Jefferson to remove all references to Jesus' divinity as well as supernatural occurrences, like miracles.  That was a pretty hole-y Bible, too.  Then there's the Conservative Bible, where the editors simply removed any verses deemed "too liberal" and softened some of the more challenging language (the "rich man" becomes "the one who enjoys riches." Subtle, yes; but quite literally, the devil is in the details).

The difference, of course, is that those folks knew exactly what they were doing when they did it.  They were perfectly clear about the fact that they were imposing their own agendas on the scriptures, fashioning them into something to their own liking the way a business person gets a suit adjusted by their tailor.  On the other hand, Beck's comments the other day were nothing more than standard rhetoric from a strong television personality rallying the masses to the cause.

Or at least that's what we hope.  If he truly meant what he said, then I'm not sure what to think.  Maybe by some freak accident Beck got a hold of that Bible Wallis was talking about.  If so, could someone let him know that it was only meant to prove a point, not actually be followed?  That is, what's left of it.

 

UPDATE: Just today I received in the mail a copy of The Poverty and Justice Bible, ordered from the fine folks at Sojourners.  Like the Green Bible, which I talked about in this previous post, this Bible highlights all verses in the Old and New Testaments that have to deal with poverty and justice issues (in orange highlighter, nonetheless - my favorite).  It's important to know a bit of the history and context to understand why the marked verses are poverty/justice related.  The bible is in the Contemporary English Version (not my personal favorite), but it still looks to be a solid resource.  I'm thinking about buying another one and sending Glenn Beck a copy.  You can order yours here.

We walk because they walk!

It was a cold, soggy, raw kind of day that greeted the third annual CROP Hunger Walk of Mount Airy yesterday.  Not the kind of weather we were hoping for, but you take what you get, right?  If anything it made the CROP motto (also this blog's title) all the more meaningful.  Every day millions of people around the world - in our little community, in this country and in places far away - have to walk miles just to get a little food or some clean drinking water.  And they do this no matter what the elements are.  So surely we could suck it up for a hour or so.

We had our first walk back in the spring of 2007, along with the help of two other fellow clergy, Roger Gilbert of First Baptist and Wayne Hager of Calvary Baptist.  In so doing we joined thousands of communities across the country who host these annual events.  Just in case you don't know, CROP Hunger Walks are joint ventures between local communities and an organization called Church World Service.  The noble and attainable goal of these walks is to eliminate extreme hunger and poverty in the world.  And, as has been noted before on this blog, we now have the technology and the resources to actually do it.

In a CROP Hunger Walk (which, incidentally, stands for "Communities Responding to Overcome Poverty), a portion of the money stays local, going to whatever agency the local planning team designates; while the rest goes to national and international relief agencies.  This is one of the reasons I'm so fond of these walks - they address the problem with a "both-and" approach, the only real way to achieve meaningful results. This is sometimes hard for people to understand, but it's true.  It does no good if we keep all of our money locally, as there are innumerable communities all around the world who have no means to host their own walks and support themselves.  Likewise, if we direct 100% of our efforts overseas, we are turning a blind eye to the needs right in front of us.  CROP Hunger Walks are a very practical way of doing both.

Folks started gathering at Veteran's Park around 2pm Sunday afternoon, trying to keep warm while listening to the sounds of the Youth Moravian Church Praise Band. At around 3:30, emcee Kelly Epperson of WPAQ radio sent us on our way!  The 3.2 mile walk took us down the Emily Taylor Greenway and then back through town to finish at the park.  Most folks finished the walk in just over an hour, unless your name was "Lindsley," in which case you were bringing up the rear.  Here are some pics for you:

 

  In previous years we had CROP Hunger Walk t-shirts for everyone, paid for by local business sponsors.  With the economy being the way  it is we decided to go without the fancy t-shirts and instead got the kids to make their own walk shirts with plain white tees and fabric markers.  It was such a hit that I imagine we'll do it again in future years, even if we bring the traditional walk shirt back.

One of the things we've tried to do with this walk is make it not just a fundraising experience, but an educational one.  So along the walk we posted signs that had some pretty sobering statistics about hunger and poverty in our world.  Here's a smattering of 'em:

 

This one gets me every time.  The sign reads, "A child dies of hunger-related causes every six seconds."  The man standing beside it is holding a bell that he chimes - you guessed it - every six seconds.  So you're walking along and you hear this ringing and you're wondering what it is.  Then you see this sign, and you know.  And as you walk up the hill and hang a left on Pine St. you still hear it ringing, and you remember long after the ringing stops.

Our walker numbers and dollar totals were down from previous years, but we're figuring the weather had something to do with that.  Any way you cut it, though, less people will go hungry because of our efforts.

I wish I were more regularly cognizant of the hungry in our world.  I just scarfed down a delicious lunch at 308 Bistro as I was typing this and hardly paid attention as the food made its way from the plate to my stomach.  Often on those nights our family sits down for a meal together, the obligatory family blessing is treated more like an obstacle to be hurried through quickly rather than a true pause of reflection and thanks.  For me hunger is nothing more than that nagging feeling I get in the middle of the afternoon at work when lunch is just a few hours in the past - and even then, all I have to do is reach in the drawer desk to grab a handful of almonds.  Like many people I've done a pretty good job of hiding in my ignorance and shielding myself from what's really there.

That's why these walks are a good way of reminding me of two things: one, that I need to be a whole lot more grateful for the food on my plate every day; and two, that I need to do a much better job of seeing that people all around the world get more on theirs. 

When tragedy strikes close to home

(picture taken from http://www.wxii.com)

Churches are often viewed as sanctuaries in the truest sense of the word; a place where one can momentarily leave behind the world's problems. Sometimes this is true, but other times we come face-to-face with the realization that our houses of worship, like our very lives, can never be totally distanced from tragedy.

A sad thing happened just down the block from our church this past week.  Tuesday afternoon around 4pm, a middle-school aged girl was accidentally shot by another family member.  The shooting took place five houses down the street from our church.  In the picture above you can see the road blocked off with yellow police tape and an officer in black.  Our church is the granite building in the foreground on the right.  To my knowledge the girl is still in the hospital in critical condition.  The alleged shooter was taken into custody.  Our prayers are with both of them.

I was not at the church when it happened but got a text about it from our secretary.  When I got back about 15 minutes later I found the scene relatively calm with a lot of stunned onlookers.  Many of them I know personally.  Our church organist lives in a house two down the road on the right.  He was in the middle of a voice lesson with another church member when the alleged shooter banged on his door, screaming for help.  Two houses further down, almost directly across the street from where it happened, our local Young Life leader and his 8-month pregnant wife were also greeted by bangs on the door and cries for help. 

Our town is a small one, barely 10,000 people.  We have one middle school and one high school.  So even those who don't know the girl personally (like myself) certainly know someone who does.  There are a few youth in our church who know her, although they don't necessarily "hang out" with her.  Still, they are understandably in shock.  It's quite a jolt to the system when one day you see her sitting a few seats in front of you on the bus, and the next day you don't, and you know why.

Sadly, things like this are a part of life.  Violence, poverty, injustices exist.  It's just that for many of us we are somewhat removed from them; separated by proximity or economic strata.  We see it on the news, read about it in the papers.  Our ministers preach about it from the pulpits and our politicians discuss it in their agendas.  But there is always a "distance" implied; a sense of separation between where we are and where "it" is.  For the most part we are removed from it and hardly give it a second thought.  And then it happens just a few houses down the street from us, and we can't let it go.  It stays with us.

This tragedy down the street from the church has left me thinking about many things.  It's reminded me that the church is not a place to escape from the world's troubles, but a place to engage them and enter into them; into the transforming presence of God that can bring about true healing and wholeness in a broken world.  We in the church tend to forget the practical implication of that message and focus more on the "upkeep of the institution."  We too easily forget that Jesus himself didn't stay holed up in a fancy building somewhere.  He went out in the world and confronted life's tragedies head-on.  We should do the same; and our church is currently talking with some people to try and find out what, if anything, we can do for this family.

It has also reminded me that we shouldn't need something like this to happen in order to mourn, to feel, to become sad or angry or hope for something better.  We fall into this trap all too often, living our lives apart from the lives of others.  It's so easy when we sit down at our kitchen tables for a meal, with a full spread in front of us, to forget that there are hundreds of thousands who won't have anything to eat for days; and that every six seconds in this world a child dies of hunger-related causes.  Closer to home it's easy to forget that, just playing the odds out, at least one of the kids sitting next to my son in his first-grade class - and probably both - start every day off on an empty stomach; the last decent meal being the school free lunch they had the day before.

It's so easy when I face that instant decision - throw the plastic bottle I have in my hand in the trash can in front of me or keep it with me to put in the recycling bin at work or at home - to forget that at that very moment there is a trash pile floating somewhere in the Pacific Ocean that is twice the size of Texas (the state, not the restaurant chain).  It's true - read about it here and here.  We don't realize it's there because it's not right down the street from us.  It's somewhere that is not "here" - so it is out of our sight and out of mind.  Even the term it's been unofficially christened with - the "Great Pacific Garbage Patch" - seems to minimize its size and impact.  A "patch??"  Perhaps the word "continent" would be more suitable.

The internet, of course, has been a godsend in helping make our big world a little smaller and changing the extent to which we understand who our neighbor is.  Of course, our neighbor can still be the old-fashioned variety, such as the people down the street from the church who I never knew about until this past week.  Even then, though, it's easy to forget that close to 1000 people in our country annually suffer the same fate as that 12-year old girl (and that number is more than likely a lot higher)

That is, until it happens a hundred yards from the front door of the church where you worship, work and serve every day.  And then it's not so easy to forget.  And you know what?  That's probably a good thing.

A Rush I can believe in

Apparently this was an April Fool's thing.  Dang.  If only.....

Not to mention a pretty fancy splicing together of video clips.  That took some work there ;)

Sojourners, by the way, is a great organization that strives to bring together people of faith across party lines (not along them) in order to make a difference in fighting hunger/poverty/injustices here and around the world. Check them out here.