July 24, 2018

by Abigail Conley

I woke up early, sick to my stomach because I ate things I shouldn’t of the night before. I stayed up and wrote a sermon.

I ate a late breakfast, watched some TV, took a shower, and headed to Costco.

On Sunday, I’d received an email asking for goods to be donated to help families being reunified following separation under Trump’s zero tolerance immigration policy. On Sunday afternoon, I sent out an email to the congregation asking for water, pads, stuffed animals, snacks, backpacks and a few other things. We needed them all by Tuesday night. With the limited time frame, several people sent money instead of dropping off goods. I was headed to Costco to spend that money on what was needed.

I put giants boxes of Always brand pads in my cart, along with boxes of trail mix and boxes of granola bars. I went to the back of the store to get water, but settled on Gatorade instead. I don’t get stomach bugs often, so it was not too long ago that I found out that Gatorade can be a magical elixir. It seemed that people recently released from detention might need that magical elixir, even if it was much more expensive.

I checked out and went on my way. As I was walking out of the doors, my phone rang. A colleague in Tucson was calling. Were we doing anything? They money donated for immediate needs. Could we get stuff there? I told her I would gladly turn around and buy more supplies if she told me how much. I hadn’t been able to find my Costco card before leaving home, so I went back for a temporary one a second time. I grabbed a cart a second time. I bought nuts instead of trail mix this time, but still pads, Gatorade, and granola bars. I loaded these items into my car.

I called my partner as I left the parking lot to tell him it was a good thing I’d gotten his car instead of my much smaller one. When I got to the church, I unloaded so that everything could be better reloaded later. I added to the stash of what was already waiting in the classroom.

Then, I called my contact at the social service agency to confirm a drop-off time and see if any needs had changed. The needs had, in fact, changed some. The families had requested Bibles in Spanish, men’s deodorant, a broader assortment of hygiene items, and shoelaces for kids and adults. Detention, after all, is a form of jail. Of course, the officers took everyone’s shoelaces, even the kids’.

I sat at my desk and cried. The horror settled in. My government, my neighbors see these kids and their parents as dangerous enough to lock them up, even taking away their shoelaces. I’d always assumed that when someone was released, whatever items were taken were returned to them. Apparently, this is not true. These kids and their parents need shoelaces.

Sometimes, we count atrocities in both humanizing and terrifying ways. I’ve never been able to shake the sight of the piles of shoes in the Holocaust Museum in D.C. Now, I’m wondering, where are there piles of shoelaces? Can they be counted? What is done with them? Who keeps them? Who notices the workboot laces and purple sparkles of children’s laces in the same bins? Where are all of those shoelaces now? Somewhere, there are thousands of shoelaces. Somewhere, there is this tangible record of this horror unfolding on our borders. I wonder who is bearing witness to these piles of shoelaces.

Time ran slowly for a while. I sat, shocked by the weight of the terrible. I know my horror pales in comparison to what my neighbors are going through. I cannot imagine what it is like to have your life fall apart so completely that you must ask neighbors for shoelaces.

I cannot forget those shoelaces. I imagine that from now on, every time I touch shoelaces, I will remember this day.

More friends and colleagues donated money that afternoon. I stopped to get food for myself at the grocery store because my packed lunch was insufficient. Deodorant was on sale, as were school supplies, so I gathered up backpacks and deodorant, $90 worth. When I got to the register, I stumbled into a sale, so it was only $65. I was in a hurry, needing to be back at work, so I didn’t go back for more.

Back at church, I unlocked the doors. Friends I had not seen in quite some time brought supplies. Another friend and I sorted through donations, getting them ready to go. At 7, I loaded my car. For some unknown reason, I reserved this task for myself, wanting to somehow count, know what was loaded.

Having money left from donations and some more thrown in over the course of the afternoon, I stopped at Target and bought every single pair of shoelaces I could find that might possibly be of use. They only had laces for men’s shoes, but I bought them. Workboot laces and sneaker laces and dress shoe laces. Seventeen pairs. The total was within 20¢ of the money I had left. I added the shoelaces to everything else and went home, so very tired.

Once upon a time, I would have said exhausted. That is not true. I was very tired. I was not exhausted. People who need shoelaces are exhausted, not me, who curled up in bed and watched a movie before drifting off to sleep, safe and secure in my own home.

May God have mercy on our neighbors who need shoelaces. I don’t know how to ask for God’s mercy for the rest of us.

Locking up Jesús

by Talitha Arnold

Once, a few centuries ago, two parents arrived with their child at the border of another country. They had fled their homeland because of the violence directed toward children like the infant they held in their arms. It had been a difficult journey across the desert, but the hope of safety for their child compelled them to keep walking.

There’s no record of what happened at the border, but the refugee family must have been welcomed, since they were able to stay in the new country until the terror in their homeland ended and it was safe for their child.

The parents were named Joseph and Mary (José y María, in Spanish). The toddler, of course, was Jesus, or Jesús in Spanish. Mary and Joseph were probably not the only parents who walked across the desert to find refuge in Egypt. King Herod’s reign of terror threatened every toddler boy under 2. Who wouldn’t flee such violence for the sake of their children?

Given that Jesús is a popular boy’s name in countries like El Salvador and Guatemala, a lot of infant, toddler and adolescent Jesúses are at the border of our country as their families have fled violence in their homelands. But unlike Jesús of the Bible, these Jesúses, along with thousands of other children, have been forcibly separated from their parents and put in detention centers.

Whether we call them Mary, Joseph and Jesus or María, José y Jesús, the biblical refugee family’s story is at the heart of the Christian faith. It should also be in the heart of every person — including every political leader — who claims to be Christian. How we treat refugees, how we welcome the stranger, how we love and care for those in need — all of that is informed by the life of the one who himself was a refugee, who grew up as a stranger in a strange land, who knew what it was like to be in need of the kindness of others.

As a Christian pastor and a U.S. citizen, I am a firm believer in the First Amendment’s separation of church and state. However, when political leaders use religious texts to justify government policies — as both Attorney General Jeff Sessions and White House press secretary Sarah Huckabee Sanders did last week — then religious leaders need to respond. Hence this article.

To legitimize the administration’s new “zero tolerance” immigration policy, both Sessions and Sanders quoted the apostle Paul’s injunction in his “Letter to the Romans” to obey the government and its laws. Like all scripture, the passage needs its context. For one, Paul’s letter was written for the Christian church in Rome, not as law for all citizens. Two, Paul was a pragmatist, living under Roman oppression. The empire’s leaders, like Pontius Pilate or Herod, never hesitated to crucify dissenters of all religious traditions. Paul’s injunction to obey the law was a survival technique for the early Christians, not a basis for public policy.

Moreover, if either Sessions or Sanders really knew their Christianity, they would know that Jesus himself broke political and religious laws time and again in order to obey the greatest law of all — to love God and love neighbor. In fact, had either of them kept reading a bit further in Romans 13, they’d seen that Paul affirmed Jesus’ teaching. “All the commandments can be summed up in this word,” Paul wrote, “ ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ Love does no wrong to the neighbor, therefore love is the fulfilling of the law.”

If political leaders are going to quote Christian scripture, they need to get it right. The heart of the Christian faith is to have the heart of the One who taught us to love our neighbor and care for the stranger. The One who was a refugee and found welcome in a new land.

this article originally appeared as the lead editorial in the Santa Fe New Mexican on June 23, 2018

Hope of a Teddy Bear

by Abigail Conley

This week, I have wept. Before this, I’d held back tears about the children in cages in detention centers. Maybe that’s why it’s been so long since I’ve written, actually, unwilling to open the flood gates. The dumpster fire is raging after all.

But many times over the last two days, I have wept.

On Saturday, an agency reuniting families sent a request for donations of items. While families have been held, there was little to collect in the way that churches do. The list was not long and many of the things you would expect: water and Gatorade, backpacks, pads, and snacks. I cried over one item, though: small stuffed animals. It wasn’t the stuffed animals, but the descriptor given: “comfort items for the children.”

My heart broke, the flood gates opened, and they haven’t stopped.

It’s a clinical descriptor, one I’ve heard before in education about child development. However, the deep place that I know it from is The Giver. If you haven’t read the children’s book, go get it and read it. I guarantee your local library has it. Like many of my favorite books, it’s set in a dystopian time–future or past, I don’t know. It is a world of sameness, though, and familial bonds have intentionally been destroyed. Children are born in one place, birthed by women of sturdy stock, but placed with families deemed more functional. Among many things, love is not a concept or a practice. Read the book; I promise that it’s really good.

In that world, children are given specific clothes to mark transitions. Items come and go at specific times in development, as they do for all children in the community. One of those items is a comfort object. The main character’s sister, Lily, is near to losing hers because of her age. It is, indeed, called a comfort object. She doesn’t realize in other places, it would be called an elephant. She has had it since infancy and sleeps with it at night. After all, that’s what comfort objects are for.

There’s some horrible reality when this phrase from dystopian fiction comes barreling into requests from churches. Last night, I went to Target and bought ten small teddy bears as my family’s contribution to the drive. Comfort objects.

My own childhood comfort object is stashed away at home. I’ve had it for more than thirty years now, a gift from family friends for my third birthday. At least that’s what my family tells me. I don’t remember getting Flop, but I do remember him always being with me. He’s a pink rabbit, now faded to nearly gray. His eye and head were reattached by my grandmother, her stitches still visible. Like Flop’s origins, my family remembers nighttime searches for him so that I could sleep. There were trips back to grandparents’ houses to retrieve him and flashlights taken to the playhouse. He was necessary and loved. My mom still rolls her eyes when I mention him, remembering the many times she moved hell and high water to find him; she’d do it, again. He’s still in my home for a reason.

Maybe I would not cry so much for these children if I didn’t have such an attachment for Flop. He represents a stability that every child deserves, from the bunny himself to the people who searched for him throughout my childhood. My parents still attend church with the people who bought him for me. There is so much stability wrapped up in that raggedy stuffed animal.

I am glad for these tears because we should mourn for these children who will never have that sort of stability in their lives. We should mourn for our complicity in their reality.

Strikingly, the best secular descriptor I have for the Reign of God also comes from The Giver. When the main character, Jonas, is realizing the gift he possesses, he catches a glimpse of red as he and his best friend are tossing an apple back and forth. In this world of sameness, most people do not see color. He only sees it occasionally and is never quite certain it was there and no one else sees it. When he does catch a glimpse, he wants to know more; it piques his curiosity. “Red” he learns later. “Red” describes this amazing thing.

teddy bearI often think of that image. It’s Matthew’s “the kingdom of heaven is at hand” and all of the already and not yet of the Gospels. It’s the upside down of Luke that God would choose the poor over the rich, the child over the leader, and the simple over the complex. It’s beautiful and hopeful, even in the midst of threat.

As I write, people are dropping off the items needed. I have prayed over them many times today and will pray over them some more before handing them off. I hope they are at least a glimpse of something else. I don’t care at all if the people receiving would call it the reign of God. I hope they see a glimpse of a world where hungry people are fed, thirsty people are handed water, and children are comforted. I hope they see a glimpse of the fact that many of us would not choose their reality for any one. I hope it is a beautiful, wonderful glimpse of something, anything else.

Here’s hoping this little teddy bear does exceeds expectations in the Reign of God.

Please, Progressive Christian Blogosphere, Stop Telling People to Leave Their Church

by Karen Richter

Recently, I’ve heard increasing calls to justice-minded people of faith that sound like this: If you don’t hear about (insert issue here) at church this Sunday, you should leave.”

Please stop.

Now I often agree with these folks on the issue at hand… immigration, racial justice, women’s equality, education. My problem is with leaving church as a protest or as part of the solution to the issue, and here’s why:

  1. I’m loathe to tell anyone to leave their church as if I know best.

Please, Progressive Christian Blogosphere, Stop Telling People to Leave Their Church by Karen Richter, Southwest Conference Blog, United Church of ChristPeople stay in or leave relationships, including relationships with faith communities, for a wide variety of reasons. Do you know anyone who attends a church that doesn’t fully fit with their theology? I’ve been that person in a church before – always in tension between my friendships and my ideals and wondering when to speak up and when to just pray.

Plus there’s this uncomfortable truth. Church attendance continues to shrink. Let’s not be so quick to encourage people to leave.

  1. Churches have a lot going on Sunday mornings and a lot of people to care for.

There was a season of grief a couple of years ago at Shadow Rock. We lost three beloved people from our congregation over about a month. During those few weeks, we didn’t have a lot of energy for the issues that we care about most. We wept; we held our friends close; we baked cookies for memorial services. The world with its beauties and horrors continued to spin, but we paused to grieve. Some times require an inward focus, a time of rest and healing, and self-care, even for our most activist, justice warrior congregations. Hear the call of the Spirit to be gentle with one another and hold one another in love.

  1. Pastors/ministers/preacher creatures are not the only voices of faith in our churches.

You’re liable to get an earful from me on this point, friends! If your pastor is not speaking from the pulpit concerning an issue you’re passionate about, speak up! One of the glories of the United Church of Christ is our insistence that every level of the church is empowered to speak to every level of the church. Maybe we could say that we take very seriously (radically, even) the idea of the Priesthood of all Believers. If your church is silent on something that matters, maybe God is calling you to be a faithful voice in that place. Maybe your church leadership needs your encouragement. Maybe you need to get brave during Coffee Hour or adult education. Maybe what’s missing is YOU.

Please, Progressive Christian Blogosphere, Stop Telling People to Leave Their Church by Karen Richter, Southwest Conference Blog, United Church of ChristPerhaps (this is advanced citizenship in God’s realm!), we acknowledge to our friends and our pastors that sometimes we want to leave. We are genuine and honest about the push-pull of going and staying. It’s awkward! Yet painful conversation by painful conversation, we reveal to each other what we’re striving for and what keeps us awake in the wee hours.

  1. Finally, religious consumerism is killing us slowly.

Please, Progressive Christian Blogosphere, Stop Telling People to Leave Their Church by Karen Richter, Southwest Conference Blog, United Church of ChristI tread carefully here. Of course I want people to love their churches. Of course I want people of faith to feel supported in faith communities. Of course I want churches to be strong forces of justice, peace, and grace – salt and light – all over the world.

BUT people aren’t perfect. Churches aren’t perfect. So when our communities disappoint us, when our leaders turn out to be clay-footed, when our church friends make bad or even terrible choices… we can go and try to find a better church or we can stay and try to make our church better. Both are valid. But when church people move on because of conflict or discomfort or fear, our communities suffer and our capacity to be the body of Christ in these troubling times suffers as well.

Please stay.

It’s Tough to be A Kid in This World

by Ryan Gear

I always want to be careful to investigate emotional stories before I comment. As we now know all too well, fake news is easy to produce and propagate through social media and cable news, and unsurprisingly, it turns out that we can’t believe everything we see on TV and the Internet. I don’t want to spread misinformation, so I want to be cautious about the stories I comment on.

Immigration has always been a controversial issue in the United States, and the emotional energy around immigration has now peaked again. Personally, I believe in smart immigration laws that protect our border and also offer opportunity to those who, like my Scots-Irish ancestors, wanted to build a better life in America. I believe that sensible laws can accomplish both. I don’t believe anyone, conservative or liberal, believes that our current situation is sensible, and as is often the case, it appears that children are the ones who are suffering the most.

When I saw the recent stories about asylum seeking children in the United States being separated from their parents at the border and kept in federal custody, I wanted to believe that it was sensationalism. The most dramatic story so far was told by a mother detained in Texas who claimed that her baby was taken from her while she was breastfeeding. Once these stories were picked up by multiple reputable news agencies, however, I decided to email my senators and urge them to act. If there is even a chance this has been happening during any presidential administration, whether Republican or Democrat, people of conscience simply cannot stand for this treatment of human beings.

On the June 14 edition of CBN news, Franklin Graham, a staunch evangelical supporter of the current president, called the policy “disgraceful” and deemed it a result of politicians kicking the can down the road for decades. No one with any moral compass can pretend that treatment of families is acceptable. The psychological trauma of such an event could affect these children for decades.

Even a cautious treatment of the situation reveals how morally warped it is. The left-leaning Washington Post wrote conservatively about the scene described by Senator Jeff Merkley that he saw that migrant children being kept in fenced-in spaces in McAllen, Texas. The article anemically argued over the semantics of whether or not the wire barriers surrounding the children could be called cages. Those urging compassion toward these families cite that the families are fleeing gang violence in Central America and should be welcomed as asylum seekers, not as prisoners.

The Toledo Blade reported on the recent ICE (Immigrant and Customs Enforcement) raid in Ohio in which 114 immigrants were detained, leaving 60 young children without at least one parent. Catholic Bishop Daniel E. Thomas said local parishes are working to help families affected by what he called ‘this extreme action.’

The most common defense I’ve heard from the roughly 30% of Americans who support this practice is that the parents broke the law. Asylum seekers are not breaking any laws. Even if they were, locking children in metal enclosures with no adult family members to care for them is not justifiable for any reason. This is not foster care. It is taking children away from their guardians and locking the children up. The president of the American Academy of Pediatrics, Dr. Colleen Kraft flatly stated, “It is a form of child abuse.” Again, I believe that immigration should be governed by laws, but is separating screaming children from their crying parents and placenta them in cells the way a moral society should conduct itself?

Immigration is a complex issue, but these children are not the only ones who are suffering. In the United States, 21% of all children live below the poverty level. Depending on the source, between 400 million and 600 million children live in extreme poverty worldwide, lacking basic necessities for a healthy life. Approximately 150 million children in the world are victims of forced child labor. Roughly 25% of adults report being abused as children. The Christian relief organization Compassion International reported that, “Globally in 2014, 1 billion children aged 2–17 years experienced physical, sexual, emotional or multiple types of violence.”

When I am faced with the plight of children in our world, I am personally convinced that more forward-thinking Christians like myself need to revisit the doctrine of sin. A realistic view of evil would open our eyes to the reality of our world and its causes and solutions.

An honest view of sin would also provide further moral grounding and righteous fuel for justice work. Some of my progressive friends are moved by the injustice in our world but at the same time would rather believe that humans are basically good. I agree that we are created to be good, but I don’t ignore the fall and more importantly the daily reality of our world that Genesis chapter 3 attempts to explain.

As much as I would like to agree with them, I simply see too much suffering caused by human beings to believe such a claim. Martin Luther King Jr. wrote in his sermon “Man’s Sin and God’s Grace,” “There is something wrong with human nature, something basically and fundamentally wrong. A recognition of this fact stands as one of the basic assumptions of our Christian faith.”

Yes, many heart-warming good deeds go unreported by the nightly news, but when compared to the evil committed against the vulnerable of our world, they seem like a band-aid on a hemorrhaging wound. Helping an old lady cross the street is good and needed, but it does not address the hideousness of children being taken from their parents and kept in cages while they scream for their mommies and daddies.

Gandhi’s famous quote: “The true measure of any society can be found in how it treats its most vulnerable members” is an indictment on the whole world. As illustrated by children being kept in cells near our southern border, an honest look at our world reveals that it is fundamentally unjust and evil, and every human being participating in this world bears responsibility.

Some of us deny that we have any role to play, while some of us feel excused by our own indifference. As the great rock band Rush point out in their song “Freewill, “If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice.” Living insulated lives in suburban America does not exempt us from seeing what is really happening to children on this planet.

Decrying the injustice he saw within his culture, the prophet Jeremiah proclaimed in Jeremiah 17:9-10:

The heart is deceitful above all things
and beyond cure.
Who can understand it?

“I the Lord search the heart
and examine the mind,
to reward each person according to their conduct,
according to what their deeds deserve.”

In a separatist religious culture that believed its food choices religiously defiled them, Jesus taught his disciples in Mark 7:21-23:

“’For it is from within, out of a person’s heart, that evil thoughts come—sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, greed, malice, deceit, lewdness, envy, slander, arrogance and folly. All these evils come from inside and defile a person.’”

My sweet little two-year old son loves the Disney movie Moana and watches it over and over, so I’ve probably seen snippets of it at least 75 times. As Moana’s grandmother tells the children in the opening scene, the moment the demigod Maui stole the heart of the fiti, darkness began spreading throughout the world. This is a picture of how the evil within the human heart works its way throughout society, discoloring all human relationships- self-serving politics, economic inequality, racism, war, harassment and rape, child abuse, exploitation, and on and on.

Those of us who are Christians must ask ourselves, “What does Jesus think about the most vulnerable of our society being mistreated?”

Speaking specifically about evil committed against children, in Matthew 18:1:7, we have probably the most hard-hitting words spoken by Jesus in the Gospels:

At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, “Who, then, is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?” He called a little child to him, and placed the child among them. And he said: “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. And whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me.

“If anyone causes one of these little ones—those who believe in me—to stumble, it would be better for them to have a large millstone hung around their neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea. Woe to the world because of the things that cause people to stumble! Such things must come, but woe to the person through whom they come!”

Tying a rock around someone’s neck and throwing him into the ocean sounds like a mob hit, and for those who mistreat children, Jesus says this would be preferable to facing God’s wrath in the age to come. He makes it crystal clear that God will deal severely with those who harm the most vulnerable in society. With the pain the children of this world are forced to endure, there are an awful lot of people who would be better off looking for millstones.

To “become like little children,” in Jesus’ words, probably means to humble ourselves and embrace learning and news ways of seeing the world, namely God’s way. As a dad, I am painfully aware that children are like little sponges. Their developing brains absorb every word and action they see in their parents, whether we want them to or not. Like a little child, we can choose to absorb God’s concern scriptural concern for justice and righteousness.

Jesus’ instruction to become like little children was given in the context of His disciples wondering who would be greatest in the coming age of God’s kingdom. They wanted status, power, and position. In contrast, Jesus urges them to humble themselves, learn, understand, and serve others instead of jockeying for a superior position.

Jesus’ teaching here is the beginning of addressing the evil in our world. What is required is a change within the human heart, that, like restoring the heart of te fiti, works its way throughout society, shining light where there was darkness and giving life where there was decay. That humbleness and willingness to serve is the only way that the most vulnerable in our world can be relieved of the evil treatment they suffer now.

The more we all become like little children, the easier it will become to be a kid.

#FamiliesBelongTogether

by Jocelyn Emerson

Yesterday was a day of action to state that in this country #FamiliesBelongTogether.

It is terribly sad, disgraceful and angering that I currently live in a country where the powers that be feel it appropriate to separate children from their parents at the border.  It is even more disheartening and angering when a politician misquotes the Bible, as if sacred scripture would support such injustice!

St Paul's UCC #familiesbelongtogether by Jocelyn Emerson, Southwest Conference Blog, United Church of ChristI am proud to be pastoring a progressive congregation where members participated in this day of action.  I have great respect for Martha and Ray who picked up one of our church signs and went to the intersection that leads to Homeland Security ICE field office here in Albuquerque, and stood in protest.  Who then moved themselves and stood outside the US Citizenship and Immigration Service office continuing their vigil and peaceful protest.  Two voices — two everyday people — two people of faith who took their faith seriously, risking as Jesus risked to call for justice!

Then last night, as I was winding down my day with Stephen Colbert’s Late Show, Colbert took a moment to speak out against this injustice as well.  He got right down to it, shining a light on this disgraceful policy of our government.  He asked all citizens to stand against these atrocities.  He spoke about the greatest gift you could give your father this Father’s Day is to call your Senators and Representatives and ask for a discontinuation of this unjust policy.  #FamiliesBelongTogether

As a person of faith, as a spiritual leader, I feel that I must speak out against injustice.  Jesus requires it of us if we are to seriously follow in his footsteps.

In the gospel of Mark, Jesus speaks to the disciples about what it means to the greatest, saying, “Whoever wants to be first must be last of all and servant of all.” Then he took a little child and put it among them; and taking it in his arms, he said to them, “Whoever welcomes one such child in my name welcomes me, and whoever welcomes me welcomes not me but the one who sent me.”  He continues later in that same chapter, “If any of you put a stumbling block before one of these little ones who believe in me, it would be better for you if a great millstone were hung around your neck and you were thrown into the sea…”

Jesus is about protecting our children.  He is about making sure that our children, all children, are treated with Love, Respect, Mercy, Compassion.  He is about making sure that children are safe, loved and protected.

He is not about tearing families apart just to prove a point, to deter people from seeking sanctuary.  He is about welcoming fully those who seek sanctuary.

I believe that Martha and Ray were being Christ — doing as Jesus would do — as they stood in peaceful silent protest before ICE.  I heard the voice of Christ coming forth as Colbert asked us all to stand up against injustice.  I see Christ’s Light grow each time I witness someone standing in Love and Compassion against injustice, violence, hatred.

I will join my Christ Light — shining the Light of healing and transformation in this darkness.  I will call on those in power to change their ways.  I will continue to hold up those who risk their bodies and voices to speak out again injustice.

I will seek to be Christ in this world.

I invite you to join me….
because #familiesbelongtogether

Billy Graham and Our Desperate Need for Civility

by Ryan Gear

If the past two weeks have taught those of us in the religion world anything, it’s that Billy Graham is an even more controversial figure that we realized. After his death at 99 years old on February 21, a plethora of news articles and blog posts weighing in on his legacy flooded social media. It’s an understatement to say the reviews are mixed. That is likely the case among the readers of this blog, as well, and differences of opinion should be respected.

I grew up in a conservative evangelical household, and Billy Graham was an important part of my childhood. I actually came to faith in Christ while watching Billy Graham on television. I was only 11 years old, and while some may question an 11-year-old’s ability to make such a decision, my conversion experience was real, and it changed my life.

After 29 years of maturing faith, however, I hold different views than Billy Graham on some important issues, and I found myself conflicted since his death. The most oft-repeated criticisms cited his secretly taped 1972 conversations with President Nixon, his ambivalent relationship with the Civil Rights Movement, and his opposition to gay rights (although there is some question as to whether it was Billy or his son, Franklin, who was behind more recent political statements as Billy aged).

To his credit, Graham did assist Martin Luther King Jr. in small symbolic ways, he apologized profusely for his conversation with Nixon in 1972, and I wonder if, given health and time, perhaps he would have softened on his social views. While I wish Billy Graham would have been more open-minded, in his day, he was actually a moderate evangelical, at times expressing views that were not conservative enough for his base of supporters.

When the news of his death was announced, I expected a mixed reaction, but I was surprised by the extremes. The responses ranged from adulation and thankfulness to polite disagreement, and I would have to say, to revulsion and even hatred. The most derisive reaction, however, came from a Teen Vogue author who tweeted:

“The big news today is that Billy Graham was still alive this whole time. Anyway, have fun in hell, b*tch…” She continued, “‘Respecting the dead’ only applies to people who weren’t evil pieces of sh*t while they were living.”

When I encounter words of this nature, I assume that the person speaks from a deep place of pain, and I wish this writer peace and healing. I do not know her personal story and what lies behind her comments, so I choose to empathize with her. I wish that she had been able to show more empathy to Billy Graham. Anyone is free to disagree with Billy Graham’s views, but I also must ask if this tweet supposed to represent some kind of goodness in contrast. In my view, when one tweets “Have fun in hell, b*tch” to someone, that person cannot claim the moral high ground.

More troubling, this comment seems to be indicative of where dialogue in our culture is headed. The coarsening nature of society is obvious to anyone watching, and as Pew Research recently pointed out, we have become more polarized over the past 25 years. Talk radio and cable news hosts have been lobbing verbal bombs at one another since in the 1990’s, and our nation is now as divided as it’s been since in the 1960s. The most recent presidential election only widened the gap and pushed the rhetoric to new a low. I don’t even bother reading the comments under social media posts anymore, because the immaturity and rancor are often discouraging.

Here is what gives me hope, however— I am convinced that there is a large, middle majority of Americans who would like to see a greater sense of maturity that actually helps us solve the problems we all face. In a word, we know that we need a greater sense of civility. Civility is more than politeness. Civility is the willingness to work together, even with those with whom we disagree, for the benefit of society. Civility is the act of speaking out, protesting, and expressing our convictions but in a constructive way. It is the opposite of the pithy, one-liner insult that is now considered a “win” on social media platforms. Insults, like the cycle of violence, only lead to more insults. Civility gets results.

The lack of civility in our society has reached a tipping point. The solution to a bad guy with an insult is not a good guy with an insult. Violence won’t put an end to violence, and insults will not help to offset the daily half-truths and outright conspiracies propagated by radio and cable TV commentators. We teach our children not to engage in vicious smears and name–calling because we know that behavior does lead to any solution to the problems we face and it only breeds more distrust and chaos. We need civility.

It starts with you and me. For those who desire to follow Jesus, we would do well to remember His words in Matthew 5:22:

“But I say to you that if you are angry with a brother or sister, you will be liable to judgment; and if you insult a brother or sister, you will be liable to the council; and if you say, ‘You fool,’ you will be liable to the hell of fire.”

The word “fool” is more literally “empty headed,” or “idiot.” It is a dehumanizing term, an epithet that allows the offender to dispatch of the one derided as though the person is less than human, worthless. The root word implies someone worthy of being spit on. Jesus’ words are clear— dehumanizing language is a much more grievous sin that many of us realize. In fact, dehumanizing language creates a form of hell that we are forced to live in. Does anyone doubt that we are seeing it’s effects on our society now?

In contrast, in the next two verses, Jesus instructs us:

“So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift.”

Here, reconciliation takes precedent over worship. Right relationships are even more important than a religious act. Notice that Jesus also demands that we are sensitive and intentional to actually know when someone has something against us. Apparently, we should actively search for ways that someone might have something against us and then seek to reconcile with them.

This is a picture of civility, and for the sake of our society, those of us who desire to follow Jesus should start leading by example. After Martin Luther King Jr., Billy Graham was likely the most influential religious figure of the 20th century, and his death further revealed our society’s incivility and polarization. Regardless of our feelings about Graham, perhaps his death can become part of a redemptive story, a move toward civility in our society that begins with followers of Jesus.

 

The Banner of #MeToo

by Davin Franklin-Hicks

A friend of mine was commenting that the Women’s March was less attended in 2018 than it was 2017. He was pretty disappointed which quickly turned to judgment. He determined that the low attendance was a sign that people care less. He indicated that folks show up for the cameras. There is definitely validity to his theories.

Yet, I have sat with this for a few hours now because something was amiss in those statements.

Historically we do show up less for ongoing change efforts than we do when they first start and I am certain ego plays a big part in that dynamic. As we get further away from the pain/catalyst that launched the change effort, we often adjust our beliefs to include new normal. We begin to adapt to the bias and abuse. “This isn’t so bad.“ and yet it STILL IS so bad and getting worse.

Instead of assuming no one cares as much as they did last year, I’d like us to consider another reason for that low attendance.

What if… the March for Women got us to the starting line of true change?
What if… it handed all of us the baton?
What if… we have been marching this whole time?

Marching into police stations and demanding justice.
Marching into courtrooms and speaking the unspeakable.
Marching into relationships that empower.
Marching out of relationships that harm.
Marching into interviews and bearing the questions.

Dear ones…
We are strong
We are mighty.
We are fierce.
We are marching together.
We are marching with a banner
And the banner reads #metoo.

Yes, Me, Too

by Abigail Conley

If your pastor is a woman, she can say, “Me, too.”

No, really, if your pastor is a woman, she can say, “Me, too.”

Maybe you’ve been hiding out away from social media and missed the #metoo of the last few weeks, when women have been talking about everyday sexual harassment and sexual assault. Again. Last year it was #yesallwomen. Tarana Burke started talking about me, too ten years ago.

Just so you hear it: if your pastor is a woman, she can say, “Me, too.”

At least one person who she’s referencing in that, “Me, too,” is likely in the pew along with you.

That’s maybe the best kept secret of female clergy. We talk about it among ourselves. If we’re lucky, we talk about it with lay leaders who have our backs. We sit through boundary trainings geared toward men talking about all the things clergy shouldn’t do; no one ever addresses how to handle sexual harassment from one of your sheep. We write about the omission in the review, if one is handed out.

In five years in my current call, I’ve twice said to lay leaders, “I should never be alone with this person.” Both times, they had my back. They went with me on pastoral visits. They magically appeared in key places in the church building. The most challenging response I ever got was, “I don’t get that vibe, but ok.” Be those people. Never, ever respond, “Oh, that’s just Dave.” Even if he’s an old man who walks with a cane, he can still sexually harass your pastor. He’s one of the reasons I say, “Me, too.”

As I reflect on these experiences, I’m trying to remember now if we were ever told we should report other clergy who sexually harass us. The Big Deal time that happened to me, it sucked a day of work away as I reported and followed up; it has meant I thought long and hard about going to places where he would be, even if they’d benefit me professionally. His ministry’s success is in a denominational entity’s promo video; my stomach drops every time I see it.

You can read plenty of articles out there about Me, Too, even talking specifically about the complicity of the church. You should. Google is your friend and if you are shocked, you need to realize how deep and ubiquitous this problem is. If you are not shocked, you still need to be reminded. But I have two other, far more important requests.

First of all, believe your pastor when she says, “Me, too.” Believe that it is true even if she doesn’t say it in front of you. This is one of the longstanding, often accepted sins of the church.

Second, and just as important: don’t stop talking about me, too. Don’t think in another year that it’s a new thing. Amplify the voices of the women talking about sexual violence by reading and sharing their work. This is the beginning to create a generation of women who cannot say, “Me, too.” That work is all of our work. It is surely work that is as holy as feeding hungry people. Do this work with the same persistence and determination. Do it as if your life depends on it, because many lives do.

And in the meantime, yeah, me, too.

A Glimpse of Justice

by Abigail Conley

There is a story in the Bible about a woman who goes to a judge many times, asking for justice. Each time, she is sent away. According to Luke, the judge did not fear God nor respect people. In the end, he gave her justice because he couldn’t get rid of her otherwise.

Preachers tend to skip over preaching this text. Like, “Ask and it shall be given,” this story can crossover into a place pastors like to avoid: annoy God enough and you’ll get what you want.

Not surprisingly, that take on this story is one of privilege. If you don’t know people who have been denied what was rightfully theirs, you tend to miss the point. If you see people as bad when they keep pushing instead of seeing their justified anger, you tend to miss the point. I’m not the most woke person ever; it took a while to see. It’s no surprise that Luke tells this tale, though. His Gospel is one of a world turned upside down, inside out, and every other way imaginable. In Luke’s telling of the Gospel, the unfavorable are by far the most favored by God.

I think of the persistent widow often these days. Almost two years ago, my church had a little extra money and a desire to do justice in our immediate community. We started down the road of offering small dollar, no interest loans as an alternative to title loans. In Arizona, payday loans are banned. Title loans quickly took their place.

Two years later, we’re almost there. Just past the two-year mark, we should be offering the first round of loans. We’re ironing out details. Right now, it looks like we’ll start at $500 and we need to figure out how we handle the minimal interest. Even if we charged the full amount, it’s 6% annual interest. Title loans are capped at 204% annual interest, typically advertised as 17% monthly.

The math is terrifying.1  At 6%, in a year, the total interest on $500 is under $31. That’s without figuring in the regular payments. That number only gets lower with regular payments. Contrastingly, with title loans, fees vary widely by vendor, from minimal to several hundred dollars. Most people who take out one loan take out another immediately to repay what they can’t pay back. This cycle repeats for around 9 months—at least that’s the average. A $500 loan easily ends up costing the borrower over $1,000 on the low end of things.

The predatory lending industry, made up primarily of payday loans and title loans, is a strong market anywhere it is allowed. Some states choose to ban their presence entirely. Nationwide, around 75% of people who use this type of loan are repeat customers. They use the loans to keep up with monthly bills. As we enter into this venture, we know that we’re hoping to offer something else for the other people, the 25% of the customers who had an unexpected expense that they can’t cover.

Solutions for the remaining 75% aren’t yet within our reach. However, this venture could well take us down a road that leads to solutions for some of those people. Jesus knew, “The poor you will always have with you,” but keeping on kicking them surely isn’t the answer.

I could, indeed, talk about all the ins and outs of this program. We’re definitely not doing it on our own. A credit union has agreed to partner with us as well as a social service agency for client referral. Part of the solution has to be credit repair or establishing credit for people. The title loan industry proudly shares that they don’t report to credit bureaus; we know that good credit is key to everything from lower deposits on utilities to landing a job.

There are many interpretations for the parable of the persistent widow, but here is the one I settle on most often: those who have the power to do good are compelled to do good. Here’s hoping that we do good $500 at a time.

Over these two years, we’ve read research from a variety of sources. Three reports inform this article. I highly recommend each of them. They are: Auto Title Loans: Market practices and borrowers’ experiences from The Pew Charitable Trusts, March 2015; Single-Payment Vehicle Title Lending from the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau, May 2016; Wrong Way: Wrecked by Debt from the Consumer Federation of America and the Southwest Center for Economic Integrity, January 2016.