Thoughts and Musings on Faith, Music, Family, Life

I'm bummed.....but I'm encouraged.

I'm bummed that Amendment One passed…..but I'm encouraged that close to 40% of voting North Carolinians tried to keep it from passing.
 
I'm bummed that discrimination has been enshrined into our state constitution…..but I'm encouraged that our calling to love all people as Jesus loves us isn't something that has to be voted on and approved by a majority.
 
I'm bummed that some well-meaning Christians supported this amendment…..but I'm encouraged that other well-meaning Christians, and people of other faiths, voted against it - and did so not in spite of their faith but because of it.
 
I'm bummed that the lives of lots of people who have nothing to do with gay marriage will be affected by this change to our state constitution…..but I'm encouraged that far more people than just a month ago are now aware of this and are prepared to stand in their defense.

I'm bummed that some people think I am in error for the way I voted…..but I'm encouraged that many like me are absolutely willing to err on the side of love.
 
I'm bummed that a particular segment of society has once again been vilified…..but I'm encouraged that more and more people are becoming aware - and vocal - about how wrong this really is.
 
I'm bummed that some Christians felt they had no choice but to vote for the amendment…..but I'm encouraged that some Christians realized they did have a choice, and used that choice to vote against.

I'm bummed that some people were confused about what a "FOR" and "AGAINST" vote actually meant…..but I'm encouraged that lots of folks took time to find out all the facts.
 
I'm bummed that some felt it important to enshrine their own interpretation of certain Biblical passages into a government constitution…..but I'm encouraged (and hopeful) that those same people will rally behind forthcoming Amendments Two, Three and Four, which will ban collecting interest for profit (Leviticus 25:36; Deuteronomy 23:19), eating shrimp (Leviticus 11:12), and football (Leviticus 11:7-8).
 
(okay, so that last one was totally a joke, albeit one to prove a point. Besides, we need a good laugh, right?)
 
I'm bummed that Amendment One passed.  There are many of us who are bummed. But even so, I'm encouraged.  Very encouraged.  Because no constitutional amendment will ever keep us from doing our best to follow Jesus' example - to love all people, stand beside all of God's children, equally and completely.

We're bummed, but we're encouraged. So this isn't over. We're just getting started.

Why I am against Amendment One

I imagine it's been obvious, for anyone who's followed me on Facebook or Twitter the past few weeks, that I am opposed to Amendment One - the proposed change to the North Carolina state constitution that would read as follows:

Marriage between one man and one woman is the only domestic legal union that shall be validated or recognized in this State. 

This amendment, a staple in pretty much every other Southern state, was put on the ballot by our state legislature and has garnered tremendous attention over the past few months leading up to the May 8 vote.

Yet I realized the other day that, while I've done a pretty good job of expressing my opinion on the matter, I haven't really explained why.  And while there are many reasons why I oppose it and voted against it in early voting last week (see picture above), there really is only one true reason why I oppose Amendment One.

Amendment One is poorly worded and, in its attempt to prohibit gay marriage, would create all kinds of legal messiness for those who don't fit the narrowly-defined  "only domestic legal union" equation - namely, unmarried couples, domestic partners, children of those partnerships and even domestic violence victims.  It's bad that these folks have been unwittingly dragged into the fray, but it is not THE reason I oppose Amendment One.
 
Amendment One is 100% unnecessary, as there is already a law in North Carolina prohibiting gay marriage.  Proponents of the amendment say it will prevent "activist judges" from overturning the law at some point in the future.  This kind of flawed logic suggests that we need to create constitutional amendments to back up all "important" state laws, much the same way my Time Capsule backs up my Macbook every hour.  The latter is completely necessary (as evidenced by the demise of my computer harddrive last week); Amendment One is not.  But that is not THE reason I oppose Amendment One.
 
Amendment One is discriminatory.  Again, defenders balk at the use of this word because, in their mind, they are simply defending "traditional marriage."  And yet, the word "discriminate" means: "to make an unjust or prejudicial distinction in the treatment of different categories of people or things, esp. on the grounds of race, sex, or age."  This is precisely what Amendment One does for gay and lesbian persons - it deprives them of something everyone else has.  Besides, constitutions are about guaranteeing people's rights, not restricting them.  And yet this is still not THE reason I oppose Amendment One.
 
I have a cousin who is gay and currently in a loving and committed relationship (that in no way, I might add, adversely affects my marriage or endangers my two children, as some insist).  They've surrounded themselves with friends and family who love and support them, including mine.  Still, I know they are subjected to ridicule and scorn by those who can't see the person beyond the orientation.  Amendment One has the feel of kicking someone when they're down, heaping more burden on a population that has suffered enough already; almost to the point of cruelty.  But that is not THE reason I oppose Amendment One. 
 
No, the primary reason I oppose Amendment One is because of my Christian faith. 

I know, that sounds strange, doesn't it?  We're used to Christianity being used as a reason (if not the only reason) for supporting the amendment.  We are told, for instance, that the Bible says gay people shouldn't get married and marriage is between one man and one woman.  Which is some selective reading, I might add, since it never actually says that (as I've pointed out to the Genesis 2 crowd, Adam and Eve weren't married); and since the predominant model of marriage in the Bible is one man and multiple women (try King Solomon's 700 wives and 300 concubines on for size).

So while I can't change the fact that pro-Amendment folks try to claim exclusive rights to the Christian mantle, what I can do is claim some of that mantle back and draw attention to the increasing Christian voice against Amendment One, including myself squarely among its ranks.  And make no mistake - it is a strong and legitimate voice, and it is growing.

In a Letter to the Editor I submitted last week to the Winston-Salem Journal, I pointed out that, while there are at best six to eight verses in the entire Bible that are commonly used to denounce homosexuality (with, I might add, questionable interpretation), there are literally thousands of verses calling the faithful to love their neighbor, care for the “least of these,” tend to orphans and widows and most vulnerable, seek justice for all, use governmental power wisely and compassionately, and not mistreat the foreigner in their midst.  It's like an NBA All-Star team stacking up against the woeful Charlotte Bobcats' second string - it's not even close.  When it comes to the sheer weight of scripture, the message of love triumps in a landslide.

And when we look specifically at Jesus as he's presented in the gospels, what we see is a man who didn't just tolerate the oppressed and outcasts, but actually sought them out.  He made a point of hanging out with them, dining with them, immersing himself into their lives no matter who they were or what others thought of them.  It drove the religious authorities nuts.  And for all his talk about loving neighbor and self, Jesus never said a word about homosexuality or gay marriage.  Not one.

So when I look at the scriptures and Jesus' life, I see an overwhelming portrait of Christian tolerance, acceptance, non-judgmentalism, and unconditional love - none of which square with Amendment One.  Because make no mistake: there is nothing loving about Amendment One.   There is nothing loving about legislation that would have all the negative consequences mentioned above.  You could possibly argue that it's "principled" or consistent (in relation to the state law already on the books), but you can't say that it's loving and compassionate in the spirit of Jesus.

I realize there are folks who disagree with me, and I'm okay with that.  I will respect their right to believe something different and hope they will return the courtesy.  It's the wonderful and sometimes frustrating thing about being adherents of the same faith - we can see things differently and still be brothers and sisters in Christ.  I will say this: if I am in error, if I've totally got my signals crossed, then I am fully content with erring on the side of love, rather than on the side of legislation that I feel pretty certain Jesus himself wouldn't be in favor of. 

And that is ultimately why I voted against Amendment One - because I believe, with all my heart, that Jesus would have voted against it too.

We'll see what Tuesday brings.  If it's defeated, I'll give thanks to God and be proud of the state I've lived in all my life.  And if it passes?  I'll be disappointed, but I'll move on with even deeper convictions and a better sense of my voice in the matter.  I'll be enthused by the wide spectrum of folks - people from different generations, different backgrounds, and even different political parties - who have come together on this issue in the spirit of Christ's love and in defense of all of God's children.

And most of all, I'll keep on loving like Jesus, the best that I can.  Thank God that is something that needs no legislation.

An anthem for Holy Saturday

Everyone makes a big deal about Maundy Thursday and Good Friday. Easter, of course, steals the show. No one pays much attention to Saturday, though.  We kind of bypass it to get to Sunday morning.  But there was no skipping Saturday all those year ago; no avoiding the devastation those who followed Jesus felt.  Jesus died at noon on Friday and the empty tomb wasn't discovered until 9ish on Sunday morning.  By my count, that's 45 hours of pain and hurt and guilt and and grief that they had no choice but to face.

I like observing Holy Saturday, for this very reason.  There are many times when we wish we could fast-forward through all our difficulties and get to the good part.  But life doesn't work like our mp3 players or DVRs.  There needs to be a place in our Holy Week observance for this sacred time.

The problem is there really isn't a scriptural account of that Saturday - no chronicling of the disciple's despair.  Only silence.  Maybe there were no words for what they were going through.  That doesn't mean it wasn't there, of course.  It was.  We need to create space for it as well.

For that reason, I'm thankful for a Facebook friend who suggested Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here" as a sort of anthem for Holy Saturday.  Give it a listen HERE and see what you think. 

Whatever you do, don't skip this day in your eagerness to get to all that Easter has in store for us. Sunday will come in its own time. But today is an important day too.  Live in it.

Craving Authenticity

A few years back, I read this book as part of my doctoral studies on preaching in a postmodern culture (and if you have tons of time to kill, you are welcome to read my dissertation HERE).  The book talked about the need for the church to be authentic.  Sounds simple enough, I know.  But its not.  Authenticity is a huge problem for today's church, as more and more congregations are either trying to mirror society with flashy "programs," or swing the other way and draw lines on who is in and who is out - all in the name of "growing their church."  When in fact, what people are desiring most from the church, I think, is for it to be authentic.  To be who they are; to be comfortable in their own skin.  To be real.

I've been thinking about this a lot lately, as my church just finished an amazing Bible study on Phyllis Tickle's insightful book The Great Emergence and considered at depth some of these issues.  Then today, this article found its way into my RSS feed.  Please take five minutes to read it.  It's written by a man named Christian Piatt who took a decade hiatus from the church for a variety of reasons.  What brought Christian back to the church, he says, were four things in particular:

• He found a church that defied Christian stereotypes - real people who weren't what he had unfortunately come to expect from those bearing the title "Christian" (the old Gandhi line, "I like your Christ, but I do not like your Christians" comes to mind).
• He found his voice - the church was a place that validated and encouraged him to share his musical gifts.
• He found deeper meaning - meaning that went beyond the standard "heaven and hell" dichotomy and other surface issues that occupy so much of the space of Christianity today.
• He found a sense of belonging - that went beyond simply being a "member" of an "institution."  He was included, validated and welcomed simply for who he was.

He concludes with this powerful statement:

I can hear great sermons online. I can download more great music to my iPod than I can listen to in a lifetime. I can join a country club and feel like I’m a part of some fancy, exclusive group. What I can’t necessarily get in other parts of my life is authenticity.

That'll preach!

As a pastor I see people come and go in the life of the church.  And it's true; folks are often attracted to churches because the preacher preaches great sermons or the church has a great youth ministry or the choir is dynamic or the sanctuary is lovely.  But those kinds of things, I've found, don't sustain them for the long haul. Preachers come and go, the choir will occasionally hit a bum note, and youth eventually do what they're supposed to do and grow up and leave (and, sometimes, their families with them). 

More and more, I'm convinced that what attracts people to a particular church, and what keeps them there, is that they sense at some deep level that their church is authentic.  Not that it has all the answers, but that it's a place where you can ask all the questions.  Not that it knows exactly who it is and what it's called to do in the world, but that it's committed to the ongoing journey of discerning that.  Not that it understands itself by negation (we are not this; we are not that...), but that it understands itself by affirmation (we are this; we are that...).  And most importantly perhaps, not that it is defined by its fears, but that it is defined by its hopes.

I realize I'm a little biased, but I think people would be knocking down the doors to get into a church like that.  What do you think?

My guest blog for Bruce Reyes-Chow: "Dear Church: 19 million views should tell us something..."

First things first - Sometime last night, you probably received a couple of posts from me about someone changing their Facebook password.  I have zero idea how that happened.  Sorry about that.

Second, I wanted to share with you a guest blog I did for my friend Bruce Reyes-Chow today.  Bruce, a past moderator of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church (USA) and an all-around great guy, is taking a self-imposed blogging sabbatical to focus on some book projects of his; and he graciously invited folks to submit guest blogs. I was tickled when Bruce decided to use mine.  You can read it by clicking HERE, or clicking on the picture below.

As you'll see, the blog is my response to the "Why I Hate Religion, But Love Jesus" YouTube video that was all the rage not too long ago.  I welcome your comments as always - either here or at Bruce's blog.  At the very least, click the Facebook "LIKE" button there, and do that nifty "MoodThingy" deal at blog's end. I think that's kind of cool, actually.

Looking back at "Seeking Stars"

Back a few weeks ago you heard me talk about this Collegiate Conference at Montreat I was honored to be part of.  If you know Montreat, you know it's hard to explain it in words to someone else.  You really need to be there.  Here's hoping this video helps somewhat with that. 

I continue to be grateful for the great experience and all the fine folks I met there!

 

Seeking Stars: Looking back at the 2012 College Conference from Montreat on Vimeo.

T-shirt irony

Hating's hard work, people. It's tough keeping up the bigoted, intolerant image all the time.  Even the hardest of the hard core are bound to slip up eventually.

(http://i.huffpost.com/gen/437288/WESTBORO-CHURCH-GLEE-TSHIRT.jpg)

"Thou shall give thanks"

A few years ago, a good friend recommended a book called The Year of Living Biblically.  It was summer and the family beach trip was approaching, so the timing was perfect.  Turned out to be a great read - one of those rare books that's both entertaining and thought-provoking.  If you haven't heard the concept, author A.J. Jacobs decided to take an entire year to live biblically - in other words, following every one of the 600-700 laws of the Old and New Testaments to a "T," no matter how silly they seemed in today's world or what awkward situation they might put him in.  It's a fabulous read and certainly worth your time.  If you're looking for a teaser, check out this short TED video (click HERE if it doesn't appear):

It should be noted that Jacobs was raised Jewish but considers himself an agnostic.  Even so, this self-imposed journey was not about making fun of religion, but in fact exploring its depths in a way, quite frankly, many religious folk have not. Of course, he knew he'd be writing a book and had to sell copies.  Still, there's a level of sincerity to what he does that appeals to both the faithful and skeptic.

There are lots of hilarious moments, like the time he had to find an adulterer to stone, or the time he spent shepherding (with an actual sheep). In the end, Jacobs' beliefs weren't necessarily changed - he bills himself now as a "reverent agnostic" - but he says he came to a better understand of faith and appreciation for the Bible, captured in his "Thou Shalls" below. Ironically, I feel these are words of wisdom not only for the reverent agnostics among us, but the faithful as well:

Thou shall not take the Bible literally - I remember an exercise my Old Testament seminary professor led us in on our first day of class.  She had us split into groups of three or four, gave us a large sheet of newsprint and markers, and asked us to draw Song of Solomon 4:1-5, exactly as we read it. Look it up and you'll understand the point of the exercise.  Taking the Bible seriously and taking it literally are two very, very different things.

Thou shall give thanks - One of the great thing Jacobs took away from his experience of living Biblically was how his behavior changed his thoughts - kind of the opposite of how we usually think things work.  Simply following God's command to give thanks, in the long run, actually made him a more thankful person. I love the way Jacobs describes how he started realizing the little things that went right every day instead of the few things that went wrong.

Thou shall have reverence - Might sound odd coming from an agnostic, but remember - he's a reverent agnostic.  Yeah, I'm not quite sure what that means either, but Jacobs does recognize that there's something important about the idea of sacredness and seeking out the sacred in our world.  I'd agree with that.

Thou shall not stereotype - Jacobs spent a lot of time with different religious groups as part of this exercise - everything from evangelical Christians to Hasidic Jews to Red-Letter Christians.  He went into those interactions with a lot of preconceived notions, and he came out learning that many of them were not true.  If only we could do the same.  Our society today - especially religious circles - is often built on the premise that we don't necessarily need to interact with "the other," especially if we think we've got it right already.  Here's to Jacobs for demonstrating the folly of that thinking.

Thou shall not disregard the irrational - A common criticism on organized religion is that some religious practices make no rational sense.  Can't argue with them there - who really understands communion, anyway?  Or the one Jacobs initially wrestled with - the commandment against wearing clothes made out of mixed fabric (yep, it's in there).  What Jacobs came to realize, though, is that the mystery of the irrational in faith actually comprises the very heart of belief.  As long as they're not harming another person, he says, they serve a good purpose.

Thou shall pick and choose - This one's a little tough to swallow.  I can't totally buy Jacob's image of "cafeteria religion;" a buffet line where you grab a little bit of this and that; whatever your taste buds desire at the moment.  I don't think that's the way it works.  But he hits the nail on the head when he says you can't follow everything in the Bible.  Inevitably, we wind up picking and choosing, whether we admit it or not.  The key, Jacobs says, is choosing the right things to follow.  I'd clarify that a bit more to say that the task of the faithful is to look for the "common threads" that run throughout the scriptures - not only in the books of the law, but in stories of the Old Testament, the prophets, the writings, the life of Jesus, and the words of the early church.  And when we focus on those common threads that tie them all together - rather than extracting an obscure verse or two here and there - I'd say we do the best job we can of "living biblically."

Like I said, I can't agree with everything A.J. Jacobs says. But he does get the wheels turning and us thinking about what we believe and why.  And that certainly can't be a bad thing.

A much better sign

Honestly, this is an entire sermon in four words. Plus, the bowtie and white socks are killer.

A good week in Chicago

I’ve said it before – I love airports.  There’s something about the random humanity that fascinates me. I’m in an airport as I write this – Chicago O’Hare, to be exact – at some concourse restaurant grabbing a hot dog. Aptly titled “the Chicago.”  I like the way my waiter pronounced it when he brought it to me – “CHI-cago,” not “SHI-cago” like us non-residents are prone to say.  I gladly stand corrected.

I’ve spent the past week in the Windy City at McCormick Theological Seminary.  You know those people who have elaborate plans to tour all major league ballparks?  A few years back I decided to do the same thing with Presbyterian Church (USA) seminaries. I know, not as exciting; but as I'm proving at this very moment, you can still get a hot dog. Anyway, there are nine or ten of them, depending on how many you count in the mix; and including the three I attended for formal schooling I’ve been to six: Union (Richmond, VA), Columbia (Decatur/Atlanta), Pittsburgh, Louisville, Austin and now McCormick in Chicago.  I’m always amazed by the diversity of the schools and the people associated with them, but also all the things they share in common. Every school in their own unique way is making a difference.

I usually try to attend some specific event, like a conference, but if that’s not available I’ll spend a few days just studying and reading.  The latter was my intention when, back in the summer, I pulled up McCormick’s web site.  And then my eyes caught a little blurb about their brand new Certification in Environmental Ministries and Leadership.  Anyone who knows me can certainly understand my immediate interest.  I was getting spousal permission and plane tickets within days.

The program is spearheaded by four faculty and involved ten participants from all over the country and beyond (a gentleman from north of the border joined us).  We met for three days, two of which were seminar-style discussions and one “field trip” day to a local conservation.  Lots of incredible conversation and insight.  In many ways its getting back to some of the core Biblical and theological emphases on "creation-care" that we seem to have lost in recent years - captured quite eloquently in a comment I remember someone making in our local curbside recycling brouhaha last spring: that "God loves people, not the earth" (there's this little thing called John 3:16 you ought to check out...)  It's helping me fine-tune my perspectives and passions on the issue so I can do my part to help the faithful  reclaim an important conversation that's been sorely neglected.

Anyway, this was part one of two trips - we’ll be back in early 2012, after which we’ll have a project to complete. And as much as I enjoyed the program itself, I also fell in love with Chicago.  The seminary is located in Hyde Park, on the south side of town.  I came to love the neighborhoods and my daily walks through the University of Chicago campus to some friends who graciously opened up their guest room for me.  It was also cool to reconnect with some old Mount Airy peeps (and a former Mediocre Bad Guy band member) who moved up here a year or so ago.  Hyde Park is a fantastic place, bustling with activity amidst old-school buildings and homes, ornate trees, and two – yes, TWO – organic coffee shops.  Take that, Starbucks.

Lots to think about as I board my flight home in an hour – including my strategy on how to get to my parked car as quickly as possible so I can to book it home in time to make a Mediocre Bad Guys gig.  Enjoy the pics that follow, and pay special note to the incredible rainbow that greeted me this morning as I prepared to depart.  I'll take it as a sign that this week was time well spent.

  Downtown Chicago skyline via Grant Park on a gorgeous day

 

Chicago Harbor. Bet this looks different in January.

 

Home of a certain famous Chicago residence who currently resides at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave NW, Washington DC. About two blocks from the seminary. Pleasantly waved to the Secret Service guy parked across the street before snapping this pic.

  Went on a jog one morning and headed six blocks east to Lake Michican. Got there in time to see the sunrise. Add this to my collection of awesome sunrise running pics.

 

Our Certification group visiting Glacial Park about two hours outside Chicago

 

So I was walking to my last class Saturday morning with suitcase in tow right in the middle of a rainshower. Kind of a pain, until the sun came out and I stopped at 55th Street to see this. If it's not a sign of the promise, at the very least it's a Starbucks PR dream.