Listen...

I wish I was a better "natural" listener. As an extrovert, I talk more than I listen, and when I DO listen to another, their sharing tends to spark my brain into remembering other stories, or dredging up past things the "listenee" has told me. Now, as a trained clergy person and counselor, I generally can effectively use "active listening" skills, and have my best listening experiences during counseling sessions with parishioners when I'm putting all of my training to work, in conjunction with my "natural" love of people.

I don't know where you are with this "listening" thing, but my most spotty performance tends to be when my spouse is trying to tell me something important. In premarital counseling, I strongly urge couples to make "a thing" out of listening to each other--turning off the TV, putting down the book or smart phone, and intentionally concentrating on what the other is saying. "Physician, heal thyself," as the saying goes! Dara says that I hear well, but don't often listen. Why is it that many of us (usually the male partner) have a problem with paying attention to our significant other? Maybe it's because we figure they know we love them, having made a lifetime commitment to them, and share the same space with them? I sometimes think my brain says this means I have a level of credibility with Dara that, while I may not listen to everything she tells me, she knows I care. My brain is obviously quite flawed, at this point. Listening IS caring 101. On top of all of these dynamics, Dara is an introvert, meaning she is naturally suspicious that anyone listens to her (a fairly common paranoia of introverts). Add to this the fact that introverts tend to have a strong and continual inner dialogue--so strong that they somehow believe that you are in on it--and we have the makings of a perfect storm, communication-wise. Lately, I've been trying to really listen to Dara when she wants to talk about something important, putting down the smart phone, muting the TV, or turning down the satellite radio in the car, and concentrating only on what she is saying. It is at this point that I may nod off, fueling another "debate," shall we say.

I have come to the conclusion that God is basically an introvert. Anyone who speaks with a "still, small voice" certainly fits this bill. I wonder if God understands how hard it is for an extrovert (especially one that is about 96% on the Myers-Briggs scale) to hear, let alone listen to this kind of thing? Why is God so quiet? I guess because she/he chooses not to dominate us; instead God's presence is through the Spirit who lights paths, lures, and "entices" us in directions that benefit us and others in the wider Realm of God. God won't yell at me like my mother did when she said "Go clean your room!"

If Ash Wednesday is a time when we are beckoned to see for ourselves how dirty and messy our "room" is, then Lent may be a time to learn how to keep it clean, once it has been "redeemed." We do this, I guess, by learning to listen to God. At St. Paul's UMC, our Lenten worship theme is just that: Listen. We're exploring the ways we may hear God's voice. Some of you reading this have probably already thought: "Why doesn't he just read the Bible!?!" Good idea, but many of us never read the instructions, and don't stop to ask for directions (thank God for the GPS navigation system!). Seriously, the Bible is a source for hearing God's message to us, and it's an important one. However, the more "personal" presence of God for us--the still, small voice-- will come from other directions very often. Here's one for you: Take time just to listen for God. The meditators among us call this silence. Extroverts like me think it means there's something wrong (As a former radio and TV person in my career before ministry, dead air usually meant someone was getting fired). In God listening, though, it means opening a channel. While I've made it my practice throughout my 33 years in ministry to provide a moment of silence before leading a pastoral prayer, that has been a much tougher thing to do in my personal spiritual journey. How about you? Are you good at carving out some time to just be silent before God and the Holy Spirit to see what shakes?

The practice of silence is just one of many ways we may open ourselves to listen to God. I'll bet you have tried a few spiritual practices of your own, most likely with varying degrees of success. Why not use the season of Lent as a time to get back in touch with either our past best practices of listening, or take a a couple of new ones for a spin? And may it be a time when we celebrate God's best attempt at extroverting by sending Jesus into the world. What a risk this must have been! Introverts lose so much of their energy when they must extrovert. It's no wonder Jesus had to keep going off by himself to "recharge," and it's also no wonder why he had so much trouble being heard by his own disciples, many of whom seemed to be mouthy extroverts! (Witness Peter--blah, blah, blah; James and John--the "Sons of Thunder"; and Andrew, who didn't meet a single person he didn't drag over to meet Jesus!)

Here's to praying you have a meaningful Lenten season, friends. Keep an open mind, and possibly a closed mouth! Thankfully, God seems to love God's human creation too much to remain terminally passive when we make so much noise in the channel it threatens to drown out the message. Shalom!

Ashes...

February 14 is Ash Wednesday. While we Protestant Christians have embraced the "ashes" thing more during my lifetime, I wonder what we think is going on when we "get the ashes" imposed? In the Hebrew Bible, sackcloth and ashes were an outward and visible of an inward and sinful life or action. When one of the prophets donned the "S & A," it was a symbolic gesture for all to see that Israel had thumbed their nose at God again, and some kind of retribution was on its way. So, as a sign of our own sin, and our desire to confess and repent of same, we get a little smudge of ash on our forehead or the back of our hand. We like to focus on the repentance part of this little spiritual drama.

The word we translate "repentance" is the Greek word, metanoia, which can be translated "change of mind." Now, we should not think of this as "changing my mind" like we have just decided to get the chicken instead of the fish--this "change of mind" means making a conscious decision to turn one's life in a different direction. We are saying to God, "I want to turn my life toward you, O Lord, and away from my self-guided ways." Someone has said repentance means "turning my life Godward." Interestingly, one of the most frequently used Hebrew Bible words for repentance also means "turning," or "returning," meaning returning to God's leading, guiding, and wisdom. I don't know about you, but if I only made this decision one day a year--Ash Wednesday, for instance--I'd be an even lousier Christian than I am, and would probably be as successful at "repenting" as I am with managing my sweets intake. For our act of repentance (changing the way our mind looks at life, God, and others) to truly take root, I'm guessing it should be addressed daily, kind of like medicine for hypertension or high cholesterol. There is a reason that people in Alcoholics Anonymous or some other 12-step program are urged to make frequent meetings--even daily at first: Part of fixing the problem is fixing your gaze upon your Higher Power and then using regular accountability of the meetings to modify one's behavior patterns. So then, does regular worship at church become sort of like our 12-step program? Maybe, although as United Methodist Christians, we believe in the transforming ability of Jesus and of the Spirit Jesus sent to us, so "going to meetings" is not our sole recourse (or maybe that should be "soul recourse?").

Back to the ashes. They are dirty. They get ground into our skin by the pastor or priest, and often feel very gritty. I know that it can take a few days to get my "imposing" thumb fully clean. Dirty is good. It reminds us that self-guided, "sinful" behavior can be bad for us and all of those around us. It also reminds us that our "corporate" or "sins of the society" can be very gritty for those victimized by them. Oppression, queuing, and the dominance of one class or group over another is filthy stuff, and it doesn't "clean up" easily. That smudge of ash on your forehead symbolizes much more than your personal "boo boos." Since we're all getting "imposed" as we share a time of confession, it also reminds us of the ugly things we have allowed to exist, and maybe even encouraged, in our society. May this "smudge" also be wiped clean as we work to see the Realm of God fully come into the world, and may we envision a place where all are equal, accepted, and respected, and none left behind. Maybe this year, with Ash Wednesday also falling on Valentine's Day, we can plant a little mental seed of loving our neighbor as an act of metanoia!

And, as our Lenten journey begins, may we not get all hung up on the negative stuff only--we are a post-resurrection community, and the healing, transforming, and empowering presence of God is in our midst and available to all. With this in mind, Lent is also a time of celebrating all of the parts of our faith that intersect with our friends from other faith traditions, and discovering new ways our common desire for justice and peace may be enjoined through shared work and understanding. May Lent not be just a time of turning "inward" and focusing solely on our United Methodist or Christian experience, but seeking ways to encounter the wider work of God in the world. May the ashes of Ash Wednesday also, therefore, remind us of the "dirty" work of building and creating, as well as fixing that which is broken.

Blessings, Yinz!

The State of the Onion...

This one isn't going where you think it is, either.

The Onion is a satirical "news" site that pokes fun at top stories circulating around, lampoon-ees ranging from politics to religion (you know, those things you aren't supposed to discuss in polite social circles), science to Wall Street. I usually catch up with their latest "story" on Facebook, where convenient links to "The Onion," in proper satirical fashion, look like real news sites. Sometimes FB cruisers get "caught" by "Onion" stories, thinking them to be real, and posting indignant commentary. A "friend" points out the nature of the story, and the errant poster does one of those Emily Litella "Never Mind" retractions. Occasionally, though, the protesting poster sticks by their "real" critique to a story written as entertaining "fake news." I say all this to take us to a discussion of First Amendment freedoms and the "mess we's in" concerning "fake news."

It is coming into vogue to label factual stories written by responsible journalists as "fake news" if one simply doesn't agree with them. And, also, fictitious stories or blatant opinion, neither backed up by facts, and written by fantom or unnamed authors, are given a pass as legitimate articles. We are told this is one way a foreign power attempted to influence elections--by posting paid "stories" on Facebook--lots of them--that had no basis in fact, but that were made to appear quite genuine, and cast by a "real" news source. It is important to note, here, that more than one political party and various religious "lobbying" groups are using this technology. Just saunter about Facebook and look at what liberal, conservative, evangelical, progressive, Druid, NASCAR, NRA (you name the cause) are posting as "fact," and you will see hundreds of bogus stories being posted right alongside the "real deal" news sources such as the Associated Press, Reuters, The New York Times, or The Wall Street Journal. I did "Google" fake news sources recently, and quite a long list came up of sites and origins some panel of "experts" has identified as illegitimate, or at the very least, pure opinion masquerading as news. Google "fake news sources,"  and see what I mean.

As one with a degree in journalism and communications, I have a special respect for the First Amendment and freedom of the press. I accept as the journalist's creed the slogan from the masthead of The Washington Post: "Democracy Dies in Darkness." A free--and legitimate--press is foundational to a free state. "Legitimate" means writing stories based on as much fact as the reporter can glean using the "mantra" of the five Ws and the H--Who, What, When, Where, Why, and How. Quotes must be exact and not paraphrased; sources must be corroborated with at least one other source. Any "theory" or conjecture must be clearly labeled as such, but was never admissible in a news story before the days of "New Journalism" as advanced by Thomas Wolfe, Truman Capote, Hunter S. Thompson, et. al. Editorials should be properly relegated to the editorial page or the opinion page opposite it (hence "op ed"). Readers should know beyond doubt whether they are reading a news story or an opinion piece. Those lines are increasingly blurred, even in some "real" newspapers, and on TV, all bets are off, basically. Still, there are great varieties of genuine news sources practicing the profession of journalism. Personally, I try to read three or four newspapers a day--The Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, The New York Times, The Washington Post (all of which I subscribe to), and as much of The Wall Street Journal as I can read online "for free." I also like to listen to NPR and the excerpts of the BBC which they feature, or occasionally I listen to BBC America on my satellite radio. When cruising Facebook, I very carefully examine the "byline" of any "story" posted or linked by one of my friends. Unfortunately, some of my "friends" are far less than discriminating as to the legitimacy of the sources of stories they post, so I must be! And, I never "believe" a story until I have found it reprinted or followed up by another legitimate news source.

Why am I harping about this? Several reasons:

1. Accurate, truthful information is essential to forming opinions, voting my conscience, and even in responsibly leading my congregation to engage in the kinds of justice and peace seeking ministries to which Jesus calls us. We need to be properly informed, people! And nobody is doing the screening for us!

2. Journalism and the First Amendment are under attack in our time, and not just from politicians and presidents. When people become less discriminating in their "taste" for news and information, "wolves in sheep's clothing" may slip in, sometimes to intentionally misinform or sway opinion in accordance with a selfish, power, or profit motive, sometimes just to sell something. In these days of the Internet and social media, if a site gets lots of "hits," it becomes an advertising and "click bait" cash cow, whether the content of the site is real or total drivel (or worst-case, intentionally deceptive).

3. I fear there are parallels between the erosion and denigration of news sources and how people will react to and "hear" something that is an essential "source" of my Christian faith--Scripture. How can I possibly preach and teach the efficacy and message of the scriptures, helping my congregation extract  and apply its inherent truths, in a world where less and less printed matter is deemed trustworthy? And, because I am a liberal interpreter of scripture (not meaning politically liberal, but theologically--applying the tools of historical-critical biblical scholarship and analysis to the Bible), I must help guide congregants to "best sources," "most accurate translations," and broadly agreed "interpretation" among scholars and commentators. As one scholar once said, "We liberals take the Bible too seriously to take it literally."

Might I suggest that we begin to apply some of these historical-critical skills when vetting our news? Don't believe what you hear or read just because someone sends you a link or you hear it on a TV show. Do some "sourcing" yourself. See if other trusted news sources are running the story. Oh, and try to BEGIN with a trusted source to begin with. I reject the thought that great news oracles like The Washington Post and The New York Times are "fake news." They are not, and they DO present balanced opinions, even if their editorial policy may sway liberal. (Some of the best conservative commentators such as George Will  or Charles Krauthammer write for The Washington Post, for example.) I find it interesting that so many who are buying the "fake news" argument with which our free press is being attacked are often persons who may tend to use the Bible in ways that harm or judge other individuals by taking things out of context and using ill-advised literal interpretations of scripture.

So, what is The State of the Onion? Things are beginning to smell a bit. May we turn our personal, collective, and national vigilance toward respect for professional, legitimate media and factual reporting, with the aim of being an informed people again, not one that is being manipulated and used to advance a tightly focused agenda that robs our diversity and fogs our senses. 

The Least Racist...

Recently, a national figure made the statement: "I am the least racist person you will ever interview!" Frankly, I would have been bamboozled just by the audacity of a white person making a statement like this, let alone a person clearly of such huge privilege. I could not make this statement, despite it being my overwhelming desire to be able to, and to have it be true. Here are a few reasons why.

First of all, I am a white racist. This is a confession that is not shocking to anyone engaging in the prodigious task of dismantling racism in America. I am a white racist because I am a member of the majority race in this nation (at least it currently is), and because we live in a society that is still far from conquering racism, and one that so privileges members of the majority race--especially males--I am guilty of institutional racism. I faced no extra scrutiny or lack of enthusiasm from either my real estate agent nor my lender because of the color of my skin. Getting a mortgage was easy, even considering that I hadn't had one in over 30 years. No one even looked askance at us when we moved into our home in Adams Ridge. I have purchased 10 brand new automobiles in my lifetime, with nary a question about my ability to get financing. I have applied, enrolled in, and graduated from three institutions of higher learning with no one questioning my intent or ability to complete a degree. I have been pulled over by the police on, well, let's say a few occasions and have never been treated in any way but politely, and in a couple of the cases, was just given a mild warning instead of a citation. I have never even been asked to exit my car by an officer. I obviously have not been stopped because of the color of my skin, even by a black policemen when I was driving late at night in a predominantly African American section of the city. A number of ethnic friends of mine cannot echo many--if any--of these experiences. The fact that persons of color are more typically questioned, or doubted, singled out, or made to provide extraordinary proof of credit when making a major purchase is a clear sign of the continued institutional racism in this country, and while it is a nationwide phenomenon, it is much worse in some parts than in others. The fact that a young African American and a young caucasian going out looking to rent an apartment in the same week, in the same town have a very, very different experience is another sign. And, because I am part of this privileged, majority race--due to no merit on my part--I am a white racist, and will be until we tear down all of these institutional walls "erected" simply by skin color.

Let me tell you another reason why I am a white racist, and it has nothing to do with the institutional racism of the wider society. I was raised that way. I grew up in a small, Northwestern Pennsylvania town that was about as diverse as a bag of Stay Puft marshmallows. We had only two African American families in town, and two persons of color in my whole high school, a girl and a boy (and with 392 in my graduating class, it wasn't exactly a small school). Both of these persons of color were wonderful individuals, loved by most of their peers, or so I thought. It wasn't until years after high school that I learned of the kind of scorn and oppression they faced from many in the student body, and most especially when they excelled in some area. I do remember how many of us used to tell the girl (I'll call her Jessie) how we appreciated that she acted so white, fitting in and not bringing up the whole "civil rights" thing all the time. (I can't believe we did this, even as I am writing it now, but this is, after all, "true confessions.") I'll also never forget how shocked we all were when Jessie, toward the end of our junior year, began to assert her racial heritage. I guess that is when I began to have my consciousness raised as to just how racist my attitudes had been all along. How sad that this really didn't "start" until my 17th year! There's more...

Except for one white, male teacher, I don't ever remember having our small town racism being challenged by the faculty of our school. This one teacher who did confront all of us was a social studies teacher who had attended a vastly diverse college, and who had developed numerous friends of different ethnic and national origins. He met our parents at visitation nights and at sporting events, and heard us parroting their racial prejudice all week long at school. In numerous ways, he attempted to disrupt the small town cycle of racism and to stimulate our brains to recognize it for what it was. I remember a time when he held his own "assembly" by calling together his class sections and having an African American friend of his speak to us. This gentleman intentionally began "acting" the part of a black "activist," accusing us of oppressing black people and maintaining and perpetuating the stranglehold white people had on power and privilege. He was playing a "part" in this little drama, and it worked. The roomful of white kids almost went "postal," defending ourselves with verbal catcalls and slurs aimed back at him. We guys were the worst; a few of our more sensitive and enlightened female classmates began to turn on us, calling us bigots and jerks. (Honestly, I don't think we were using the term "racist" much in our peer group at the time.) The women were right--we were bigots and jerks. And when that speaker stepped out of his incendiary "act" and began just to talk with us about what had happened and why, I remember feeling ashamed--very ashamed--but not wanting to admit it, especially among my white, male friends. I still, to this day, get sick to my stomach at the thought of how I thought and acted on that Thursday afternoon back in 1971. There's more...

When our all-white high school sports teams played teams from more diverse towns, racial slurs became part of the unofficial "cheerleading." And many of the parents were in on it, too. Most of us in that small oil industry and manufacturing town grew up in conservative, white families where racism was taught and defended--sometimes intentionally, sometimes not so much--but it was still the norm. "Oh, Mr. So-and-So who works down at the Post Office is so nice--too bad all of them aren't like that"--statements like this could be heard around almost every supper table in my town. The N-word was seen as "impolite" at best, but often used in casual conversation. You could have grabbed any five students from my school and asked them to make a list of attributes of "negros" (again, the term African American wouldn't make the lexicon of that town for a decade or two), and a codified list of stereotypes would have been forthcoming. There's more...

When I was in junior high, not too many people I knew had kind words for Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Even in my home church, he was largely ignored, except by a youth pastor, who came fresh out of Yale Divinity. Encountering him and paying attention to his take on Dr. King and the civil rights movement was another consciousness-raising event in my life. Rev. Mike sniffed out the foul smell of racism ten minutes into hitting town, and he began a methodical "attack" on it aimed at us youth, figuring our elders were a lost cause. While Dr. King was often seen as a "rabble-rouser" by people in this small Pennsylvania town (and our only contact with him was via TV), I remember listening to our youth pastor and then to some of the speeches of Dr. King and hearing the same message of love, redemption, forgiveness, and transformation from each. I can remember thinking "I hear no violence in this man, only a plea for acceptance and love" when Dr. King gave his "I Have a Dream" speech. Still, the power of my upbringing kept fighting against the rising tide of personal "enlightenment," and it was so easy to "backslide." There's more...

There is nothing I want more in my life to no longer be a white racist. But it is an uphill battle, and one that requires daily attention. Obviously, if I want to help dismantle white privilege and institutional racism, I must join with others, be a part of organized efforts, and become much more political than I am comfortable with as a pastor. But the harder part of my racism is that deep, personal "tape" that keeps playing in my soul, the one "programmed" there by family, my small town upbringing, my school, and my peers, to whom I acquiesced way too often. I have to fight the stereotypes that, while they are fading, are still holed up in some tuck in my gray matter. Years ago, while traveling in Scotland with one of my seminary professors, a Scot himself, he came out of an establishment livid, exclaiming: "THREE DEGREES and a Ph.D. and when I open my mouth here, I'm still the son of a coal miner!", meaning he still spoke with a dialect that gave away his origins. Likewise. Three degrees, a doctorate, thirty-plus years of ordained ministry, and tons of prayer to "let this cup pass from me," I can still harbor a racist thought if just the right conditions prevail. There's more...

The more is grace. Thanks be to God, grace has been transforming my life in many ways, and standing up against racism--institutional, denominational, and my personal "infestation"--is one of the ways that is happening. While this column might sound like self-flagellation, it is more about wanting to bare my soul and honestly share my personal struggle in an effort to engage the reader to do the same. I am a long way from being able to say ANYTHING like "I am the least racist person you will ever see." And so are you, if you are part of the majority race. If your defense is a statement like "I am not a racist--I have black friends," or "I don't care if people are black, white, or purple, I love everybody," then you have an even longer, tougher challenge ahead than you understand. The good news is that there is a spiritual renewal starting to move across the land, and it is focusing on dismantling racism as one of her priorities! As Dr. King said, "Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate can't drive out hate, only love can do that." May it be so in our lifetime, Dear Ones. Signed, a recovering white racist...

Fire and Fury...

No, this is not about what you think it's about! Sure, the country is cackling about the book, "Fire and Fury," by Michael Wolff, but I'm just borrowing the title for this blog post. Here we go...

As we embark on an unsettling and tentative new year, let us examine a model of "types of Christian faith" that I see making the rounds:

Fire and Fury Christians. These are folk whose faith mirrors the primitive experience of the earliest believers from the pages of the Hebrew Bible. In more simplistic times, the authors of these chronicles posit a loving God, but one who tries to govern by strict "rule of law." Sort of a "Here are some commandments--follow these and we'll be buds" arrangement. Of course, this view isn't an accurate one of Yahweh, the God of the Bible, because it is being told through the eyes and pen of the human experience. Ancient people tend to use ancient lenses, without the benefit of later learning and experience, in describing God and their relationship with God. One doesn't have to use much deeper scholarship to discover the authentic Yahweh--the Yahweh as revealed later in Jesus Christ--in these narratives, but one does have to dig a bit. Taking a lot of things from the Hebrew Bible at literal, "face" value, especially the parts about God's "fire and fury," "smiting," and demands that highly specific commandments be followed to a "T" leads one to posit a God that some have incorrectly labeled "the God of the Old Testament" at best, and one that is strictly cause and effect, meting out punishment rather gleefully when an infraction is flagged. (Since this sounds like a football allusion, let me use another: Fire and Fury Christians often have a fearful relationship with God in the same way that late Ohio State football coach Woody Hays related to passing the ball: "Three things can happen, and two of them are bad!") Responsible scholarship of these ancient texts doesn't allow this theological "boiling down" of what is a pretty complex thing--the relationship between the Creator and the created, between Yahweh and the "children" of Yahweh. Fire and Fury Christians can develop a nasty habit of being judgmental, prepared to cite a text and hammer someone with it. You will hear phrases like "keeping the covenant" and "the Bible is true" being used as signs of faithfulness. And no, I'm not just talking about the current flap over inclusion/exclusion of LGBTQIA persons in my denomination. Much more is at stake here. This goes to our very understanding of the nature of God. In this venue, simple is not a good thing. This is important, complex stuff, and the survival of the people of God depends on us not rushing to judgment. This may be why God--and Jesus in the New Testament--tells us to leave this alone, and up to God, ultimately.

Reconciling and Loving Christians. The more theology I "do," the older (and hopefully wiser) I get, and the more of the people of God with whom I am privileged to interact, the more I am drawn to a view of faith that participates with God in God's action as stated in II Corinthians 5:

8 All of these new things are from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and who gave us the ministry of reconciliation. 19 In other words, God was reconciling the world to God through Christ, by not counting people’s sins against them. God has trusted us with this message of reconciliation.

20 So we are ambassadors who represent Christ. God is negotiating with you through us. We beg you as Christ’s representatives, “Be reconciled to God!”21 God caused the one who didn’t know sin to be sin for our sake so that through Christ we could become the righteousness of God.

If this is what God is really up to--and note that it is God's action, meaning that even Christians don't have a corner on HOW God is doing this--we are called to be "ambassadors" of it, not prosecutor, jury, and judge as to whom God is pardoning and including. This is the reconciling part--we are called to find as many ways to include people in the "family" of God on this earth, not build walls to keep out the ones we think have "broken the covenant." And then there is the loving aspect of this particular vision of what it means to be Christian: Many of us Wesleyans believe that what John Wesley meant when he talked about "holiness" and "perfection" was his "primitive" way to say that the ultimate pursuit of Christian perfection is learning how to love perfectly as Christ did. It's not about how "clean scrubbed" we are (Jesus took care of that, anyway), but about how broadly, deeply, inclusively, diversely, and justly we can love others. This is a really hard thing. Really hard. And maybe this is why some give it up as the ultimate aim and fall back on rules, "keeping covenants," and drawing lines as to who is "in" and who is "out," or at least in peril of being "out." I also know that our brains are "wired" differently, with some tending to default to the "rule" thing much more quickly than others because of in innate need for "clear margins." Still, this does not excuse them from righteousness, which, according to Jesus, has much more to do with loving one's neighbor than surveying our property lines and fencing ourselves off from those who disgust us or make us fearful. As one committed to becoming a Reconciling and Loving Christian, I have to admit to not making much progress, and I don't have a lot of time left! It's often one of those "take three steps forward and two-and-a-half back" journeys, at least for yours truly. But I have to say, when I am "successful" at offering an olive branch to someone who feels like God has judged them and found them wanting, welcoming them fully into the presence, grace, and fellowship of God, it really makes me feel more like Jesus than about anything else I do. It's worth the effort. And then I get behind the wheel of my car and the whole thing "goes to hell" in a matter of minutes. See what I mean?

Destiny Christians. I added this category after listing for a radio ad for the "Joel Osteen" channel on Sirius XM radio. God love him, Joel proudly announces in this ad, "Everything you need to realize your destiny is within reach!" What destiny? We have no "destiny"other than the life we have been given, the opportunity to build a legitimate human community of justice and peace, and the offer of God to be part of God's action in "reconciling the world to Godself." There is no specific destiny promised to us as individuals--no promise of success, no promise of wealth or "American superiority" or even perpetual happiness. (Even the Founding Fathers of this nation said we should have the right to pursue happiness--no guarantees of it!) The biblical questions are: "What will you do with what you have been given? And whom will you serve?" Remember all of the arguments among Christ's disciples about which one would sit at his right hand? Or which of them was the greatest? These are destiny questions, and Jesus' answer to them was 180 degrees in the opposite direction of what the twelve were expecting to hear. Servant of all? That doesn't sound like a Joel Osteen theology to me!

I can listen to intelligent arguments about the first two types of "Christian" and possibly even that the "truth" may even be in some hybrid of the two. But if you want to be a Christian, please, please run with all of your might from this Osteen crap. There are no Destiny Christians, unless you count a really bad destination as your ultimate aim.

As for me and my house, I'm going to keep working on the Reconciling and Loving faith. May 2018 be a year when I--and we--take three steps forward, and maybe only ONE backward! Shalom, Yinz!

Candles and Lights...

At St. Paul's, as in some other churches that started Advent a week earlier than the liturgical calendar suggests, we have four candles burning on our Advent display. Each of these candles slices through the darkness, as the Fourth Gospel says, "...and the darkness has not overcome it."

I like candles. I probably got this appreciation from my father, who was always buying, making, and experimenting with candles. He wouldn't just burn them, but would "fuss" with them when they weren't burning brightly and consistently, a quirk of many a "fat" or "pillar" type candle. Especially at Christmas time, the Sterlings would have numerous candles burning throughout the house. (With my two brothers and me, it's a miracle we never burned the place down.)

Candles burn wax (or often today, soy) via a wick that allows it to be slowly digested. While the flame is rapid oxidation, the ancient technology of the candle slows this to a crawl. Originally, candles were made from beeswax, and the best ones today still are. So, each simple candlelight is a product of the science of rapid oxidation, the burning of wax bees create to house both their young and the honey they produce, and mediated by a wick typically made from woven cotton. Candlelight requires some sacrifices and science to exist, but it has defeated the darkness for millennia, lighting churches, schools, homes, and places of commerce. Few of humanity's advances would have been possible, were it not for those earliest days of candlelight.

The other lights of Christmas have evolved, beginning with the candle as well. Edison's invention brought forth strings of large, hot, colored lights that began to adorn Christmas trees and porch eaves. I'm old enough to remember the transition to "miniature" lights, and while these offered a much simpler and "twinkling" alternative to the earlier incandescents, they introduced a greater frequency and fervency of profanity to the decorating process. Still, this newer technology caused neighborhoods to explode with the colorful lights of Christmas, unless you were one of those "all white," or "all blue" people. Our family never had the economic resources to be the Griswolds, but my Dad did always decorate our front door, illuminating it with a huge spotlight. Leaving our house at night at Christmas time meant being blinded for about the first five minutes or so.

When we were kids, my Dad would load us into the car and we would drive all over Venango County looking at Christmas lights. I continued the tradition, doing this with our kids, and to be honest, Dara and I usually take an annual drive to do the same. Christmas lights are still magical to me. The beginning of my personal Christmas spirit begins when I see the first seasonal lights in the neighborhood appear.

Now that we have our own house, I have taken to decorating outdoors as well. We have a townhouse, which is three stories high, so I'm not climbing a 40-foot ladder to hang lights. So thankful am I for the "latest in 21st Century Christmas lighting technology," the laser Star Shower!

Candles and Christmas lights are one way we announce to a world needing the illumination, hope, and love of God, that Christ has come into the world to BE the light, and to shine that light in such a way that the darkness shall not overcome it! So, let the light shine! Whether it is the flickering flame of the ancient technology of the candle, or the shimmering, bright points of light from a laser Star Shower, let our lights speak of the eternal light of Christ, a light that shines in the hearts of all of the children of God far beyond the short days of the Christmas Season! And may the darkness never, ever, EVER overcome it! Merry Christmas, Yinz!

Now is the Winter of our discontent...

While this line from Richard III by Shakespeare has nothing to do with the snow flying outside my office window right now, it seems a perfect lead-in to a column about the season.

It IS snowing, as I write this, and since it is a Wednesday, St. Paul's has its ambitious schedule of our children's program, Kids Go and Grow with God (KG3), choir practice for their big music program this coming weekend, a parents' LifeGroup, and the evening iteration of my mid-week Bible Study, ahead. Already people are calling wanting to know if we are cancelling activities for the evening. If I were still serving in Warren, PA, the calls would bring laughter on the staff-side, as cancelling events in Warren because of snowfall less than a foot is, indeed, laughable. But here in Allegheny County, it doesn't take many flakes looking like they will stay on the roadways more than 30 seconds to set off a wave of cancellations. I think the local TV stations hire extra personnel this time of year just to post that crawl at the bottom of the screen listing them all. Of course, our track record here at St. Paul's is not great when we DO cancel, given that the two times we made the decision in my three-plus years back here each resulted in a halting of the flurries and a burst of sunshine right around starting time. Talk about a discontenting Winter...

Last weekend, this church put on a multi-generational production of "Elf, Jr.," a down-sized stage version of the Will Farrell movie, "Elf," which has itself become a holiday classic. "Elf, Jr." was expertly staged, incredibly acted, sung, and "cuted-up" by a youthful cast, and deftly directed by Dick Neely, veteran of the long-standing "St. Paul's Players." It was absolutely incredible. Funds raised will benefit our Summer youth mission trip. Now, before you suggest that a topic like "Elf" isn't in the religious genre, let me make a few observations. "Buddy" is born to a single mother who sends him to be raised at the North Pole by a loving Santa and brother and sister elves. There, Buddy learns how magic life can be, and becomes his joyful, playful self. Then, when his humanness is discovered, he is sent to a "far country" in search of his earthly kin where he brings joy, love, and great expectations to everyone he encounters, literally transforming the lives of the people he touches. Hmmm...starting to sound familiar? It was a religious experience.

Speaking of Bible Study, my class this year is doing a second "Disciple Lite" whereby I created a "Cliff Notes" version of what was known as Disciple IV: Under the Tree of Life. We are pursuing the wisdom literature of the Hebrew Bible, and the Gospel of John and Revelation in the New Testament. This week's lesson was on the Song of Songs, or "Song of Solomon" as some versions label it. The "Song" is basically a semi-erotic poem, if you're trying to be "good," and a patently erotic one, if you use a little mischievous imagination. As the Disciple author points out, it has "no commandments, no covenant, no Moses, no Temple, no mention of God." (Actually, "Elf, Jr." has more religious references.) Why is it in the Bible? Our group's answer is multi-faceted:

1. It is a beautiful reflection of intimacy and eros love between two EQUAL partners, countering the male-dominant version of relationships prevalent at the time of its writing. (Have we come very far since?)

2. Much of the story is told in a woman's voice, and was possibly written BY a woman--revolutionary stuff for that era.

3. The reader is naturally drawn in to reflecting on her/his love relationships--past and current--and a desire to better understand and practice integrity, equality, and intimacy in loving. For the Christian, this sure sounds like a good thing.

4. Being careful not to turn a love poem into a pure allegory about humans and our relationship with the Divine, we CAN imagine that God, in Christ, desires to enter into a relationship with us that is also one of integrity, equality (with each other), and intimacy, remembering that not all intimacy is sexual in nature.

5. Sex, when part of a mutual, covenantal relationship is fulfilling, nurturing, blissful, and fun. The Song of Songs sets such a beautiful context for erotic love that anything less begins to look like lust, by comparison. And promiscuous sexual activity appears tawdry, even exploitative, when held up against the rapture written of in the Song.

Bet you never expected Bible Study to get you hot under the collar, did you?

Next subject: Advent.

St. Paul's is celebrating the fourth Sunday of Advent this week. Yes, we know that the "official" liturgical calendar didn't begin Advent until December 3, but we started a week early--along with many churches--to complete the Advent cycle before Christmas Eve, since it lands on a Sunday this year. We didn't want to short-change the "preparation" season of Advent by lighting the fourth candle on Christmas Eve, and then lighting the Christ Candle in the same service. Call us didactic, say we're pandering to the "spirit" of the season, but also say we gave Advent its just due so its final candle of "love" didn't get lost in the shimmering lights of Christmas Eve. Our theme this year has been: "Be Home for Christmas," and our weekly themes were: Longing, Meeting, Welcoming, and Rejoicing. And on Christmas Eve, we're Arriving, and on New Year's Eve, we're Going. Yes, it's good "journey theology!" We're proud of that around here, because we do, indeed, believe the Lord Jesus is a peripatetic Savior who walks with us on each mile of life.

Last subject: Christmas! Oh, let's wait on that until next week. Shalom for now, Dear Ones!