A Price too High

20 children are dead.

As the news of yet another mass shooting emerged today from Connecticut, commentators, politicians and pundits began posing the questions asked after events such as this.  When is it appropriate to debate gun violence?  How long after a tragedy do we need to wait before “politicizing” the shootings?  Essentially, they lead us in a debate about the debate.

I have another question to pose.

When in the midst of this ongoing orgy of gun violence will we as a society decide that too many children are dying for the sake of a “right to bear arms?”

That is the question that faces us and it is a question that cannot wait.  The old saying that there is "no time like the present" rings painfully true.  We owe it to the next victims of gun violence to take this moment and ask, "is this worth it?"

Beyond all the grand and abstract language of liberty and rights, there is a fundamental reality that is being ignored.  20 grade school children are dead because searing pieces of metal fired from a gun tore through their bodies and robbed them of their futures.   Their deaths and their families’ grief are not abstract.   They are not merely a piece in a larger conversation on guns and violence.  Their deaths are the price tag for preserving a culture of absolute liberty in gun possession. 

As with so many unspeakable tragedies, our first inclination is to seek some measure of understanding.  We want to find out what in this young man’s life and spirit led him to do this.  We want to get to the bottom of this event so we can put our minds at ease that this was somehow and unusual or one-off event distinguished from any potential imitation. 

Compounding the tragedy is how familiar it has become.  Movie theaters, malls, places of worship and now even elementary schools are not excused from the bloodshed of gun violence.  As the tragedy unfolds, we share in a common sense of shock and sadness, let the media paint a picture of the “lone gunman” that allows us to differentiate him from anyone else we may encounter and finally, we get past it.

Still, 20 children are dead.

We as a culture must break this endless cycle of tragedy-shock-blame-moving on.  We must draw a line in the sand and say, “no more.”  We, as a nation and as a church, must not let this moment pass us by. 

Unfortunately both church and state are too often silent.  The vacuum of courage in our political culture is not an excuse for the silence of the church.  If we wait for Republicans to break free the shackles of the NRA or the Democrats to find what is left of their courage on this issue, we wait for Godot.

As disciples of Jesus Christ, the church has an obligation to carry the message and the witness of Jesus Christ into the world.  While there may be room for debate on some parts of Jesus’ teachings on money or marriage or salvation, there can be no debate about Jesus’ unflinching love and care for children.  

We fail in our calling as Christians if we do not shout, from every pulpit and pew, that this must end.   God is concerned more with the care and nurture of the children of God than the preservation and exercise of man-made political rights.  If the price we pay to end the cycle of violence that can and has led to the mass killing of children is to give up the unfettered right to own and carry guns, then that is the price we pay.  Can true liberty be built on the senseless sacrifice of children? 

When Abraham took Isaac up onto the mountain, God stayed Abraham’s hand demonstrating once and for all that the blood of a child is too high a price to pay, even for the favor of God.  We, the church, must have the courage to stand up and stay the hand of the culture and declare that nothing that is right, good or free can be bought with the life of a child. 

That is a cost that is simply too high.

Can Drone Warfare Be Just?

In the third presidential debate, President Obama and Governor Romney found common ground on a few issues of foreign policy.  One case in particular, the use of drone attacks on terror suspects, stands out because Governor Romney stated simply that he agrees with the President’s policy.   Some commentators have latched on to that to show how conservative the President is on national security or how Governor Romney is more moderate than some of his advisers   Beneath it all, the question is not one of liberal/moderate/conservative.  It is a question of right or wrong.

Drone attacks are, by any reasonable measure, theologically and morally wrong.

Drones, the unmanned aerial vehicle or UAV, are a creation of the intelligence community and have become the front line troops in the seemingly endless “war on terror.” Drones are designed to be precise (though they have proven not to be), to be secure (though their security has been called into serious question) and a means of winning the war on terror (though there is no end in sight). 

In truth, drones are the modern equivalent of a societal prefrontal lobotomy about war.  By removing the “human element” and replacing it with non-emotional machines freed from the constraints of moral cognizance, we have moved war from the realm of human tragedy to one of rationalized and sterilized policy-making.  It is far easier to send a machine, more of which can easily be made, into war than it is to risk the lives of our sons and daughters.  And to be fair, drones do limit the exposure and risk to our military and civilian personnel.  The trouble is that as advanced and celebrated as they are, drones do not always work.  In fact they often do not work.   Some investigations claim that up to 25% of drone related deaths are accidental.   

Still, if they limit the exposure of Americans and limit the extent of the war zones in Pakistan and Afghanistan, don’t the advantages outweigh the drawbacks?  In other words, in the messy reality of war, aren’t drones at least a little more moral?

If the only gauge of morality in war was protection of “our side,” they certainly would be.  However, under the principles of nearly 1600 years of Christian Just War theory, drones are, in fact, a less moral way of waging war. 

Just War theory can generally be divided into two categories: jus ad bellum (reasons to go to war) and jus in bello (behavior in war).  Since the argument about going to war has long since been made irrelevant in the present war, our attention is best directed to jus in bello.  How, having gone to war, must nations and people behave in war?

The general theory of jus ad bello lists five general categories of behavior morally regulated by just war theory: distinction (distinguishing civilians from combatants), proportionality (an act of war must not be disproportionate to the precipitating act), military necessity (the act must be necessary to defeat the enemy and end the conflict), fair treatment of prisoners and the use of no means malum in se (no means that are evil/immoral in and of themselves or the effects of which cannot be controlled once used).[i]

The use of unmanned drones violates at least three of these principles.

·         Distinction:  The evidence is clear that drone attacks kill civilians.  Drones are neither limited enough in their power nor precise enough in their guidance to ensure that only the target is killed.  While studies have claimed that up to 25% of drones miss their targets and kill unintended civilian populations, civilians are often the victims of successful drone attacks.  In 2011 a drone hit a tribal council meeting in the Northwest Frontier Province of Pakistan.  The four terrorist targets were killed, but so were 38 others. Nearly 90% of those killed in the attack were not targets but by-standers.  

·         Proportionality: The question of proportionality is complicated.  As the example above shows, drone attacks can be overkill.  The drone attack that killed 42 in Northwest Frontier Province was the equivalent of killing an ant with a brick.  It lacked restraint and proportionality.

Another issue of proportionality concerns the targets themselves.  Often drone attacks target “terror suspects.” They are executions carried out on suspects of terrorism rather than those proven to have committed acts of terror.  There is no question that global terror is vastly different than a war of opposing armies.  The question for us as a culture is whether or not that reality will so radically change the metrics of our moral vision.  We think this person is a terrorist so we will kill him and his neighbors just in case seems less than ideal as a moral foundation.

·         No Means Malum in Se: It is an overstatement to say that drones are evil in and of themselves the way mass rape, child conscription or the use of weapons of mass destruction are.  Nonetheless, because they are free from the moral difficulty of directly causing the death of another, drones are innately free from moral inhibition and decision making.  Making war easier and less costly to wage has a coarsening effect on the society fighting the war.  Anything that makes the commission of sin easier cannot, by definition, be anything but less moral. 

Do drone attacks make the “war on terror” immoral?  Is President Obama evil for pursuing a policy of drone warfare?   Is Governor Romney evil for agreeing with him?  Are the men and women who direct the drone attacks evil for participating in such an immoral system?  These and other questions that continue to explore the morality of our current national security policies are (or at least should be) of great concern to the church and people of faith. 

Any war waged for any reason has dehumanizes and violates the most basic principle of Christian love.  As 2000 years of history has taught us, though the community of Christ exists in the world the perfect peace of Christ does not yet.  Just War theory has been an effective, if imperfect, check on our propensity for war.  Restraint in war is one of the most enduring theological and philosophical legacies of Christendom.  If we, as a community of faith, will not stand up for our own historic principles, who is left? 

There is no war that is free from sin.  There is only the degree to which we submit to it.  The larger question of the morality of the “war on terror” will likely occupy the church for a generation.  The morality of drone warfare should not.   

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[i] A reasonable argument could be made that drones violate all five areas of Just War theory concerning conduct in warfare.  Prisoners are mistreated in the fact that they are never taken prisoner nor given the opportunity to surrender themselves.  That drone attacks have been used since 2004 without great effect could reasonably argued as a violation of the principle of military necessity.  These are hardly clear and reasonable arguments can be made on the other side of each.  The same cannot be said for the other three principles outlined above.

Would You Baptize Exxon?

In 2010 the Supreme Court decided a case popularly called Citizens United.  In a nutshell, it says that individuals, corporations and unions can spend unlimited amounts of money to elect or defeat a candidate for office as long as it is not coordinated by the candidate.  (Much of the nonsense of this election season is brought to you by the Supreme Court of the United States.)  Enough ink has been spilled on whether or not Citizens United was a good decision (I think not).  I want to address an underlying issue raised by the ruling.

Part of the logic in Citizens United is that corporations are, for the purposes of speech in elections, persons and afforded the same protections of speech that an individual person is.  Corporations are persons?  What makes a person a person is a matter of deep philosophical debate.  From a theological perspective, the answer is no easier.  What makes a person a person?

When I was in seminary, this question came up in the context of a discussion about baptism.  In my tradition we practice infant baptism rather than adult or "believer's" baptism.  Underlying the theology of infant baptism is the notion that baptism is an act of faithfulness by the church in response to the faithfulness of God.  The sacrament does not require any belief or comprehension on the part of the baptized as it does in "believer's" baptism.  The question came up concerning whether or not it is appropriate to baptize an individual who cannot comprehend the sacrament.  As someone who believes in infant baptism, the answer to that question is easy.  For others it is not.  

The court and much of the political community argue that corporations are persons.  So my question is this, would you baptize Exxon?  

Calling corporations people demeans what it is to be a person.  People, homo sapiens, are created in the image of God.  Whatever race, nationality, physical or mental disability or other characteristic or station in life, we are all created in the image of God.  But is Wal-Mart or the AFL-CIO or even a non-profit like the United Way?  Are these "persons" created in the image of God?

I realize that baptism is not a universal measuring stick to determine person-hood.  You can be unbaptized and still be human (a child of God).  It is, however, a helpful way of thinking about who and what might reasonably be included in the category of "person." 

As a man of faith, I believe that calling corporations "persons" both misunderstands what it means to be human and demeans the person-hood of every one of God's children. You and I are made in the image of God, wonderfully made in fact and held in the heart of God since the beginning of time.  I simply cannot believe that the same can be said of Best Buy or BP or even the Nature Conservancy.

I am not anti-corporation.  I am against some of the abuses corporations commit and some of the dehumanizing policies of some corporations.  On the whole, however, I have no moral objection to corporations as such.  I just cannot get behind the idea that a corporation deserves the same consideration and rights as a child of God.  

Whether Citizens United is good policy or good law is left to be decided.  

That it is theologically troubling is clear.  

Politics and Playgrounds

In separate posts that appeared on my Facebook news feed today friends shared links to articles that, in one case, called President Obama anti-Christian and in the other case called Governor Romney un-Christian.  On one hand, I smiled a little in the realization that my friends are so diverse in their opinions.  On the other, I found myself feeling frustrated that this sort of language is being thrown around in such personal terms.

I am not going to dignify the arguments in the articles with a reply.  I do want to address this continual tendency to demonize political opponents with religious and personal epithets.  We have, in our culture, lost the ability to separate opinion from character.

The vocabulary of our political debate has degraded to the level of an elementary school playground.  You don't agree with me?  Well then you are just a big poopy-head!  It is all or nothing.  It is reasonable to expect kids on the playground to lack nuance in disagreements, but these politicians and commentators are adults.  Aren't we supposed to outgrow the reactionary absolutism of playground disagreements?

To be sure, there are policies from both Obama and Romney that I find theologically questionable.  Earlier this year I posted an entry about what is popularly known as the "Ryan Budget,"the budget plan passed by the House of Representatives.  I still believe that there are some serious theological problems with that budget's policies and the philosophy behind it.  I do not, however, believe that makes the men and women who voted for it or wrote it un-Christian.  I disagree with their policy positions and their philosophy.  But I don't hate them and, in general, I do not doubt their sincerity of belief.

This is not the first time I have posted on this topic and I am sure that it will not be the last.  We must find a way to separate opinions from character.  I have friends who support political and policy ideas that I disagree with deeply.  Does that mean we cannot be friends?  Does it mean that they are somehow bad people?  Does it mean that they are un-Christian or anti-Christian? NO!  We simply disagree on some issues. It is not up to me to decide whether they are faithful Christians.  It is not up to them to decide if I am.

I have a good friend whom I value greatly.  We disagree on just about everything political.  If I am for X, she is probably against it and if she is for Y, I am probably going to rail against it.  We disagree but we don't hate one another.  She is a wise, thoughtful and faithful Christian.  We see the world differently.  Or to put it in more biblical terms, we see through the glass dimly.

To refer to either the President or Mr. Romney as anti or un-Christian because of their beliefs is to set oneself up as the mind of God.  Disagree.  Disagree passionately.  But do not mistake your own opinion as the final opinion of God.  None of us has a monopoly on the truth.

Toxic Preaching: Partisan Politics and the Pulpit

Today is "Pulpit Freedom Sunday."  Organized a number of years ago, Pulpit Freedom Sunday is a day when pastors across the nation intentionally violate the Johnson Amendment making it against the law for non-profit organizations to endorse political candidates.  Each election year, thousands of pastors participate and after preaching their offending sermons they mail them to the IRS.

To the unending frustration of the organizers of Pulpit Freedom Sunday, the IRS has yet to show any signs of caring.  No prosecutions have taken place.  No pastors clapped in irons.  No churches seized for violation of some sacred code.  These pastors are fighting a war against what they perceive as a government trying to silence them and the government won't fight back.

The non-existent war on religion in this country is the product of a half-century of political rhetoric aimed at preventing "Soviet-style" atheism in America.  For decades the John Birch Society and others railed against the threat of atheism.  As the Supreme Court continued to uphold the freedom of all Americans to worship as they choose and to untangle religion from government, a myth was born.  The myth of the war against religion.

Today that war is fought on many fronts.  There is the war on Christmas, the war on Sunday, the war on values and, in recent years, the war on "religious freedom."  This new front has grown into the great "Western Front" of the imaginary war. 

Religious freedom is the new buzzword for a particularly narrow segment of the Christian community's protest against some government actions.  Generally speaking, what they perceive as "religious freedom" is in fact the freedom to impose their religion on the rest of us.  Thus, Pulpit Freedom Sunday, the day when preachers declare what candidates are and are not faithful Christian choices.

The Johnson Amendment, passed at the height of the red scare as a protection measure for Lyndon Johnson's re-election campaign, states that non-profit organizations cannot endorse a particular candidate.  The law was aimed at right-wing anti-communist organizations working against Johnson's re-election, however churches were swept up in the mix as well.  It is against the law for a pastor to stand in the pulpit and say "vote for X."

My question is this.  Who cares?  Who cares if pastors cannot stand up in the pulpit and say "vote for X because it is the Christian thing to do?"  What pastor in his or her right mind would want to do that in the first place?!

To be sure there are almost certainly pastors who serve congregations more politically homogeneous than my own.  Not all congregations run the gamut from center-left to center-right and have Democrats, Republicans, Independents and none-of-the-aboves.  Both of my congregations do.  So in addition to being against the law, candidate electioneering is not such a good idea for me. 

Even if I did serve a mostly like-minded congregation, though, I cannot imagine a circumstance when I would speak up for a candidate in my sermon.  In the first place, I cannot imagine there being a candidate who is so vital to the interest of the community that their election rose to the level of parity with the word of God.  Secondly, I cannot imagine preaching a sermon saying "vote for X because that is the Christian thing to do" and still being able to ask for the trust of a congregant who is voting for the other person.

As a pastor and preacher, my task is to stand in the pulpit and do my level best to tell the truth of the Gospel as I have come to know it.  It is not my task to tell people how to live, that's Jesus' job.  It is not my task to demand that people follow me; that is Jesus' job. It is not my task to declare who is and who is not righteous in the eyes of God; that is, well you get the point.

I am all for politics in the pulpit as long as "politics" means speaking about how we live together in the polis- the city. Electoral politics- the politics of personality and electioneering- have no place in the pulpit because they have no place in the vision of the word of God.  When Jesus says "feed my sheep" he does not say "as long as it is a Democrat who gives them the food."  When Jesus says "heal the sick" he does not say "as long as it is a Republican deciding how to do it." 

The politics of the pulpit and the cross is not the politics of party and personality.  It is the politics of the people of God living together in the City of Man, to use Augustine's language.  The politics of the pulpit is about declaring that all God's children are deserving of food, shelter, clean water, freedom to worship and the basic dignity owed to every human being.  The politics of the pulpit is about standing up to the forces in the world that would denigrate and degrade the children of God.  The politics of the pulpit is beholden to no party or personality, it is beholden to God and God's word.

If we want our pulpits to be truly free, we bind them to the liberating word of God in Christ Jesus and the promise that is the City of God.  Tethering the pulpit to the coattails of a political personality or even a political party does nothing but diminish its mission and anchor the pulpit to this world and the broken political machinations of the City of Man. 

* UPDATE  This entry was updated on 10/8/12 to correct a spelling error in the seventh paragraph.

Any Jackass Can Burn Down a Barn

When I was in high school, our communications teacher attempted to introduce a film class.  It was the first time one had ever been offered in our school district and outside of NYC or LA there were very few in any public schools.  The result was a pretty free and open environment for us to create the class.  We watched and critiqued great films, learned about some filming techniques and, using the second hand VHS hand held camera the budget would allow, we made our own films.   

Compared to the footage available online of the now infamous film “The Innocence of Muslims,” our 7 minute zero-dollar budget high school production is “Citizen Kane” or Hitchcock’s “Rope.”  If the rest of the film is even close to as bad as the trailer footage, it ranks among the worst films ever made.  (Think Ed Wood makes the “10 Commandments.”)  Yet despite its lacking of any narrative or artistic merit, this little film has sparked a tragic string of circumstances.

On Tuesday, protestors fueled by anger and lacking any sense of moral restraint, attacked the United States embassy in Cairo breaching the walls and desecrating the American flag.  In a related event, attacks on the United States consulate in Benghazi, Lybia left the US Ambassador and two other embassy staff dead and several others injured.  These attacks certainly did not materialize simply because the trailer for this film was released, but there is little question that the film was one precipitating issue.

As someone who makes his living getting up in front of a room (partially) full of people and who leans heavily on both an ethic of professional freedom and the benefit of political freedom, I have an acute appreciation and love for our nearly absolute freedom of speech.  I like that I can get in the pulpit and condemn my government without fear of reprisal and praise it without fear of becoming its puppet.  The freedom of expression we enjoy as nation is perhaps our greatest blessing and the greatest gift to the world that American constitutional democracy has given.

With that great freedom, however, comes even greater responsibility.  As a pastor, I am also acutely aware that just because I may say something does not always mean that I should say it or that it is wise to say it.  That is a lesson lost on too many in our culture today.

The makers of this movie have every right to make a bad film.  A right they have availed themselves of spectacularly.  I for one make no claim that what they have done should somehow be outlawed or banned.   Free speech that is wise and helpful depends on the freedom of speech that is insipid and stupid.  Still, I think the filmmakers deserve a heavy dose of criticism for choosing to make a film that has the obvious purpose of making fun of and inciting anger from a group they do not like.  The only reason the film has not been more roundly condemned is that its subject matter involves a politically and socially unpopular group- the Islamic community.  A similar film that made fun of African-Americans, women, Christians or Jews would not be tolerated.  So taking advantage of the political environment, the filmmakers offer their warped perspective on 1/5 of the world’s population.

The problem with this film is not that it is bad.  It is not that it was not their right to make it.  The problem is that the film represents one of the most reprehensible and craven characteristics of our contemporary culture-“no one matters but me.” 

According to this radical individualism and radical libertarianism, my right to say whatever the hell I want trumps any consequence of my words.

• My vitriol and bigotry leads a classmate to take his or her own life?  Tough, free speech.

• My political rhetoric demeans a whole group of people and incites others to do violence to them?  Tough, free speech.

• My film defames and ridicules another’s religion and risks reprisals in the midst of a tense and polarized global political culture?  Tough, free speech.

Free speech is a blessing and a right of every person who lives in this nation and, God willing, will one day be a basic human right enjoyed by every one of God’s children.  That right is diminished and demeaned when it is used by fools in their folly and when speech is not accompanied by wisdom and humanity.  But wisdom and humanity take work. 

Any jackass can burn down a barn.  And the world never has a shortage of jackasses willing to do just that.  It takes wisdom to build up rather than tear down.  As with so many things, the role the church has to play in this whole political mess is the enduring word of love and universal human dignity.  Central to the gospel of Jesus Christ is the dignity of all people.  Not Christian people.  Not American people.  Not people I like or approve of but ALL people.  ALL of God's children. 

Free speech falls rapidly from blessing to curse when it is used to diminish rather than celebrate the place of a brother or sister as a child of God. 

There is no excuse for the violence in Cairo or Benghazi.  There is also no excuse for the abuse and misuse of a blessed right like the freedom to speak.  Hopefully, “The Innocence of Muslims” will fade rapidly from our collective memory.  With any luck, the lessons we learn from its narcissistic misuse of a cherished right and its foolish attempt to dehumanize a whole religion will not.

Moving the Pillar of Cloud and Smoke: A 9/11 Anniversary Sermon

It Took Its Place Behind Them

Exodus 14:19-31

A Service of Prayer and Remembrance

Commemorating the 10^th Anniversary of the September 11, 2011 Terrorist Attacks

A Joint Service of Worship of

 St. Paul Episcopal Church and First Presbyterian Church of Batesville, AR

 

September 11, 2011

The Rev. Dr. Robert Wm Lowry

                Let me begin this evening by thanking Fr. John and the congregation of St. Paul for the opportunity to be with you tonight and for your hospitality.  To paraphrase the Psalmist, how good and now pleasant it is when friends dwell together in unity.  This continues a good friendship between our two congregations and that truly is a good and holy thing.

            I take as my text this evening a portion of the reading from Exodus we heard just moments ago. 

            The people of Israel are fleeing from the hand of pharaoh through the Egyptian wilderness.  The Lord commands Moses to raise up his staff and extend his and over the waters of the sea so that they may part.  He follows God’s command, and as the waters part, in the words of the writer of Exodus,

            “ the pillar of cloud moved from in front of them and took its place behind them.”

            Let us pray.

            Almighty God, may the words of my mouth and the meditations of all our hearts be pleasing to you our rock and our redeemer.  Should it please you to speak through the words of this unworthy servant, then speak.  And in this and all times, speak to us as only you can, in the silence of our hearts.  Amen.

            The pillar of cloud moved from in front of them and took its place behind them.

            Imagine what it must have been like.

            I guess in truth, we don’t actually have to imagine.  In his final monumental undertaking, legendary filmmaker Cecil B. deMille paints a vivid, if not entirely accurate, picture of the exodus from Egypt.  Whenever I read or hear this text, that image is my mental picture. 

            The great cloud that looms above the people moves so that it is stationed firmly between the people of Charlton Heston and Yul Brenner’s army.  The billowing smoke, the occasional glimpses of fire, the flashing lightening all combine to make Hollywood magic.

            At the moment these events were unfolding for the people of Israel, I doubt it was quite the popcorn moment.  I imagine it what must have been an awesome almost terrifying sight.

            In that moment, the pillar of fire and smoke that led them through the Egyptian desert gives way to the corridor of dry land bordered by the two great walls of water inviting the people to cross the sea and enter into the Promised Land.

            It is an epic, emotional, dramatic scene.  In all it’s 1950’s technicolory Hollywood majesty, the climactic scene of one of the climactic movies of the last century invites us to know what it was to stand there that day in the shadow of the pillar of cloud and smoke and fire.

            In the end of course, the people escape, Pharoah’s army is engulfed by the sea, God’s promise is fulfilled and all Pharoah can do… is go home to Anne Baxter.

            The story of the people of Israel crossing from slavery in Egypt into the freedom of God’s Promised Land is one of the great narratives in human history and one of the pivotal ones in the greater story of the people of God.   When the people first set foot on the bed of the sea, a new day dawned. 

            And the turning point was when the pillar of cloud moved from in front of them and took its place behind them.

            I am hardly the first preacher to draw a parallel between the pillar of cloud in the book of Exodus and the pillar of fire and smoke that erupted on lower Manhattan a decade ago this morning.

            What began as a beautiful autumn morning with a big blue sky and perfect fall weather quickly became a picture of darkness and destruction and death.  The misguided and misdirected anger and hate of 18 young men would ignite a fire that would burn even when the flames were put down and the rubble carted off.

            I recalled in my sermon this morning the landing in Newark Airport on September 13 the day air traffic resumed.  When the airplane banked over northern New Jersey and began to fly down the Hudson toward Newark’s runway, I had a clear view of lower Manhattan out my window.  I remember the skyline of lower Manhattan with a void where two great towers of concrete and steel had stood just three days before.  I remember the plumes of smoke and steam that, though of a lesser magnitude than they had been days before, still billowed into the sky like the exhalations of some great beast dwelling beneath the streets and struggling to be let loose on the world.

            That pillar of fire and smoke would remain firmly fixed in our minds eye long after it disappeared from our view.  I would wager to say that for many of us it would be easy to conjure up a vision of it right now.

            It remains fixed before us defining everything else in our line of sight.  It has become the measuring stick by which world events are now measured.

            It is almost as if that day was the restarting point of time.  Pre-9/11 and post-9/11 are our new cultural BC and AD.

            Late last week, a friend who is a stringer for NPR called to interview me for a piece he was working on that was broadcast on Saturday.  I’m afraid I wasn’t much help to his story.  He and several other reporters around the country were interviewing people about what they were doing on September 10, 2001.  When he asked me, I searched my memory trying to think of what it might have been.  In the end, all I could remember was that it was a sunny Monday in Shreveport and I took the dog for a walk down by the river before substitute coaching pee-wee football in the afternoon. 

            That was it. 

            Nothing else stands out. 

            It was just a plain old Monday.

            Had he asked me about the next day, I could give him moment by moment details.  It is still vivid and at times feels ever present.  As a colleague commented to me the other day, it is almost as if one September day has lasted for ten years.

            I wonder if perhaps tonight, with ten years between those tragic events and this Lord’s Day, it might not be time to let it be a new day.  Perhaps it is time that the pillar of cloud moves from in front of us and takes its place behind us.

            Like most things, that is easier said than done.

            When the Israelites stood on the banks of the Red Sea and Moses hurried them along to journey across to the Promised Land, there must have been at least a moment when the people thought better of that suggestion.  There must have been a moment when someone said, “you know that pillar of cloud back there got us this far, maybe we need to stick with it.  Maybe we should keep it out front.”

            With the unknown horizon across the sea in front of them, I imagine that it was tempting to turn around, put their backs to the unknown and set their eyes and expectations on the familiar; the pillar of cloud that had led them thus far.

            Given the option between the known and the unknown, most of us will choose the former every time. 

            The problem with sticking with the familiar for the Israelites was that the pillar had moved.  It was no longer in front of them pointing the way to freedom and the Promised Land.  Now it was behind them.  To turn and face it now meant to turn away from freedom and direct themselves, once again, toward Egypt; toward Pharaoh; toward captivity.

            The pillar of cloud moved from in front of them and took its place behind them.

             None of us will forget the events of that September morning. 

            Nor should we.  It will rightly remain a part of our collective memory and shade our perspective of the world for generations to come. 

            The image of that pillar of fire and smoke that came from lower Manhattan, from the outer ring of the Pentagon and from a lonely field in rural Pennsylvania will remain ever present in the narrative of our nation and our world.

            Nonetheless, it is, perhaps, time that we posed a question to ourselves.  Where does that pillar of fire and smoke belong?  Shall it remain in front of us, continuing to give direction and shape to our lives; shall that pillar of fire and smoke remain our true north or shall it take its place behind us?  Not as a forgotten chapter but as a reminder of where we have been and where, in the mercy and grace of God, we hope to never return. 

            Today we remember the lives not only of the nearly 3000 who lost their lives on September 11, 2001, but also the more than 4000 who, since that day lost their lives in Iraq and the more than 1800 who lost their lives in Afghanistan, 80 as recently as this morning, along with countless civilians caught in the middle of a war of other’s making.

            As we look back in mourning on those who are lost, we must have the courage to also look forward in hope to the tomorrow that God has promised.   If we linger too long on the past, if we allow our world to be measured not by the promise of God’s tomorrow but by yesterday’s tragedies, we fail to do honor to their memories by wasting the future of which they have been deprived. 

            If we do indeed have that courage to look into the horizon of tomorrow, we will never forget what came before nor will we enslave ourselves to it as we cross over into God’s promise.

            The pillar of cloud moved from in front of them and took its place behind them. 

            May it be so for us and for our world.

            Sola Deo Gloria!  To God alone be the Glory.  Amen.

             

Child of God, Child of God, Child of God

As we enter the fools carnival that masquerades as presidential politics in this country, the rhetoric about parties, personalities and platforms (and other things that do not start with "p") will heat up beyond the usual levels.  The scorched earth politics of 21st century America will leave few unscathed.  As things progress, it gets tempting for people of deep belief and passion to join in the mud and word slinging.  When those moments come and that temptation is upon us, I hope that we can all take a moment and do one thing.  Look across the political landscape at your "target" and remember that that person (or that whole group of people) is a child of God.

One of the lessons I have learned in my ministry is to respond in frustration or anger only after looking at the person with whom I am angry and saying to myself a few times "child of God, child of God, child of God."  It helps to put things into perspective.  I wish I could say that it has saved me from ever uttering words I would later regret.  Unfortunately, this little trick is not quite that effective.  But it does remind me that the object of my anger or frustration is also the object of the love and care of God.

Our political vocabulary has been hijacked by the vocabulary of division.  The other side of the aisle has become the enemy of all that is good and right.  It is not enough to oppose a candidate, you have to hate him or despise her in order to show your own loyalty to party and country.  In a culture that defines those with whom we disagree as quite nearly less than human, it is no wonder that we use the sort of language that we use.

As a Christian, I am called to remember that we are all part of the family of God.  In our vocabulary of faith, we are brothers and sisters united by God's love for us.  So to demean or dehumanize someone with whom I have a political disagreement is to demean or dehumanize my brother or sister in Christ. 

There are certainly times when we need to speak up against a position a particular person takes or take a stand against a policy or ideal that tends to diminish or dehumanize a person or group of people.  Those prophetic moments are important to our growth as a community striving for greater and wider justice for all.  But when we do that, perhaps we can do it without casting aspersions on the motives of our political opponents.  It is one thing to oppose abortion, another to call those who support choice "baby-killers."  It is one thing to oppose cuts in social programs , another to call those who propose those cuts "uncaring" or "unChristian." 

There are very real issues and very real problems that we need to address as a nation in this election year.   Perhaps we need to remind ourselves that disagreement on policy is not the same as disqualification from the human race.  Perhaps we need to remember that reasonable people can and do disagree and that even in the midst of our passionate disagreements, we need to disagree reasonably.

When in doubt, just remember...child of God, child of God, child of God.

Let's Stop the Linguistic Gymnastics: Rape is Rape

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The Real Trouble with Mormon Jokes

One of the more popular punch lines in religious jokes is the Mormon’s “magic underwear.”  From stand-up comedy to South Park to jokes between friends, the undergarments of Mormon adults make an easy target for humor.  I have to confess to having made a few less than generous remarks about them, much to my personal shame.  Mormons are one of the few groups it is still acceptable to make fun of in public and that is a matter of real shame.

The “magic underwear” is neither magic nor underwear.  Referred to as “the garments,” the two pieces resembling an undershirt and a pair of extra-long boxer briefs are a symbol for devout Mormons of their inclusion in a community.  One commentator compared it to a yarmulke or nun’s habit.  The garment marks a Mormon’s inclusion in the community following the endowment ceremony in the temple.

One day Mormons too will be off limits to “acceptable” humor. For my part, whenever I feel like making a “magic underwear” crack, I will ask myself if I would make the same crack about a yarmulke.  I cannot think of a circumstance when I would. 

Beyond the purely insensitive and tasteless nature of “Mormon jokes,” there is a larger theological question lingering.  What is it about us that needs to have a ready butt for jokes?  Since my childhood, I remember when it was considered socially acceptable to make jokes about African-Americans, Jews, GLBTQ people and, yes, Mormons in polite company.  In hindsight, I wonder just how polite that company could possibly have been.  The question maintains; what is it about us that needs to have a ready butt for jokes?

Let me start by acknowledging that not everyone makes off color jokes.  This is not meant to point fingers at any particular person or people.  Rather it is an observation about how we work as a culture.  There seems to be an unwritten rule that at least one group needs to be available to be the punch line at all times; some group has to be an outlier. 

It is important to belong to some community.  Even people who disdain community belong to the community of disdain.  But unless the community is popular, powerful or influential enough not to give a damn, there is an assumed social convention that we keep our membership in those communities to ourselves.  In a way, the garments of the Mormon tradition respect that convention.  They are worn under the clothes and do not come with a nametag that says, “I have on my endowment garments under my clothes.”  They are a very personal expression of devotion.  But their ubiquity makes them an assumed part of every Mormon adult’s life and an easy target for mockery.

There is a measure of “chicken and egg” to this pattern of humor at the expense of others as well.  Is this a symptom of our culture or is our culture a symptom of this tendency?

Whatever the answer to that question, one thing is certain.  Humor at the expense of a community of our neighbors coarsens and diminshes us as a culture. 

There is no easy answer.  Few things that matter have one.  But it is a question worth asking ourselves when we offer up a supercilious joke or make off the cuff remarks at the expense of a group or community.

A Radically Moderate Stance on Guns

As I left church on Sunday morning, I was asked a question that I am still unable to fully answer.  I was asked, “If you had been in that movie theatre [Aurora, CO] and you had a firearm [he mentioned a particular model that I do not recall], would you have hesitated to pull it and shoot that guy?”  When he asked the question, I gave him the only answer I could think of at the moment, “I don’t know.”

It is a tough question for a number of reasons.  Mostly, I just have trouble imagining what would be going through my mind at that moment.  My ego wants to think that I would heroically help people get out of the theatre and to safety all the while keeping an eye on the gunman and planning how to disarm him ala the movies.  I know I am not the only person who had that thought.  It is a difficult question to answer because it assumes a hypothetical that would never take place.  There is no circumstance that would convince me to carry a firearm into a crowded theatre so I would never be face with the decision in the first place.

After some reflection on the question, I think I have put my finger on at least part of why it is so tough to answer.  I do not accept the premise that what happened is somehow normal or expected.  That seems to be an undercurrent of many comments on this shooting.  People wonder why no one fired back as though midnight at the movies is the same thing as high noon in Tombstone.  Things that we anticipate happening in the world are easy to hypothesize about, but this is way outside those bounds.   The question I think we should be asking is not what I would do in this foregone reality, but what we as a society should be doing to prevent this sort of thing from happening.

Part of the reason we avoid that last question is that it takes us into some territory that is uncomfortable.  But if we are going to talk about what happened in Aurora, CO we have to talk about guns and if we talk about guns we have to talk about how we can curtail the problem of proliferation of guns to people who have no business having them.

This is the point that most of my pro-gun friends tune me out.   But please a bear with me.  This is not a question of pro-gun or anti-gun.  The extremes on both ends of the political spectrum have worked to turn this into a zero-sum conversation in order to stop any sort of compromise from happening.  They have hijacked an important political and religious issue.  And make no mistake about it, gun-control is a religious matter (more on that below). 

Now those on the “pro-gun”side argue that any limitations on gun ownership are unconstitutional and lead us down a slippery slope toward banning all fire arms.  Reasonable gun control is neither of these things.  The Supreme Court decision that interpreted the 2^nd Amendment to mean that individuals have the right to possess just about any weapon they choose required a Cirque du Soliel worthy contortions of language and logic.  It is highly doubtful that the Founders had in mind an individual owning a small arsenal of automatic and semi-automatic weapons designed for one purpose only, to kill another human being.  The slippery slope argument does not hold water either.  There are almost as many handguns in this country as there are people.  The FBI says there are over 200 million privately owned handguns in this country.  Count in the illegal and unregistered ones and there is one gun for nearly every man, woman and child.  The idea that any gun control is going to lead us down the slippery slope to banning all guns makes about as much sense as thinking that we could ban asphalt.  Nothing this deeply entrenched in our culture is going anywhere.

Those on the “anti-gun” side offer no better arguments.  They claim that guns must be banned in order to prevent crime and to bring the United States into line with other developed countries.  The crime prevention argument does not hold water.  Availability of guns is not the root cause of crime.  To fight crime we need to deal with education, health care, housing and poverty issues that are shown to be at the root of much crime.  From a theological perspective, crime is a manifestation of human sinfulness.  We were sinners with spears and swords just as we are with guns and assault weapons.  As for the cultural argument, it fails to realize that the US is a different society than European countries.  Guns and gun ownership are in our cultural DNA whether we like it or not.   When some European countries banned handguns, there was not much there to ban.  As noted above, in the US banning handguns, let alone all guns, would be a practical impossibility.

So what do we do?  How do we address this question from a practical and theological perspective?

Practically, we need to take a step back from the zero-sum battle lines that have been drawn on this issue and recognize that unfettered access to firearms is unwise and ridding them from the nation forever impractical.

The solution to this problem is found not in a purely policy focused conversation but one of public morality.  What sort of society are we hoping to create?  What values do we want to be reflected in our laws?  On the issue of guns, these questions are more important than usual because they offer us the chance to reclaim an important national debate and take it back from the lunatic fringe. 

So what values do we want to be reflected in our gun laws?

From a constitutional perspective, there is the issue of the right to “keep and bear arms.”  The 2^nd Amendment is not going anywhere so we need to take it seriously.

From a social perspective, we want a society in which individual can be (not merely feel but actually be) secure that their life and liberty will not be violated.

From a moral perspective, we need a society that puts a premium on human life over personal liberty. 

Surely we can find some common ground there?  A responsible person who wants to own a firearm should be able to do so.  But is liberty really threatened by a thorough background check?  Or a firearms safety course?  Or even a limit on how many firearms one person owns? 

Put another way, was making guns easy to buy with no questions asked worth the price that was paid last week in that movie theatre?  If steps could be taken to keep guns out of the hands of an unbalanced person, is there any legitimate reason for not doing that?

I believe that the personal liberty we enjoy as citizens is important.  It is important as a means of keeping tyranny at bay.  It is important as a means of showing political respect to the individual.  It is important for creating space in society for differing opinions and perspectives to flourish and thrive side by side.  So protecting liberty is a valid and important thing.  But it is not the only thing.  Protecting society as a whole is vitally important.  And when we balance those two, individual liberty and safety for society, we have to remember that firearms present a very different issue than speech or press or other matters of constitutional importance.  When someone hurls hateful words, they do not draw blood.  A person abusing his or her right to free speech does not usually leave a trail of bodies in their wake.  The right to keep and bear arms does.  Guns are not like speech.  The person taking advantage of free speech may make me mad, but the person abusing his right to bear arms may leave me dead. 

As a citizen, I believe that individual liberty must be preserved whenever possible but not at the expense of the safety of others.

As a Christian, I don’t give much of a damn about liberty.  It is not a theological issue.  Personally, I would like to see all guns gone from our culture.  There is no legitimate Christian value that is forwarded by the owning much less the using of a firearm.  Jesus taught peace and respect for life as the central principles of our life in the world and love of God as the central principle of our life in whole.  There is no legitimate theological argument to be made for the liberty to carry a weapon designed to kill another human being.  At the same time I cannot buy into the argument that the ownership of a firearm of any kind is in and of itself a non-Christian act. 

Please don’t get me wrong, I do not buy into the NRA myth that “guns don’t kill people, people do.”  Yes, that is true but it is also true that the gun makes it much easier for that person to kill.  So let’s not let the guns off the hook quite so easily.  Do I think the world would be better without guns?  Yes, I do.  But I also think it would be better without many things that are not going anywhere anytime soon.  And if we can’t get rid of them, we can at least curtail their misuse. 

Part of living into that Christian life is using the intelligence and creativity that God has given us to find ways to make this world a little bit better, a little bit safer and a little bit more attuned to his message of grace and love.  Surely we have an obligation to put those tools to work on such a major issue as this. 

The debate over guns is yet another place where our society has accepted the zero-sum either/or duality of the radical extremes on the left and right.   So it is up to we who inhabit the middle to put our heads together and find solutions to our common problems that are both practical and faithful to our calling as brothers and sisters in the world. 

I am convinced that there is a solution to this long standing issue and we have an obligation to work toward a system in which honest and law abiding people can exercise their rights while still allowing the system to protect the innocent. 

Would stricter gun laws have prevented this shooting?  I don’t know.  I am convinced, though, that there is a place between the extremes where efforts to prevent tragedies such as this and preserving the liberty of individuals who feel the need to own guns can co-exist.

Nonetheless, I am still not sure how to answer the question posed to me on Sunday. 

The God I Know

As news of the tragedy in Aurora, CO continues to unfold, I am gratified that so many people have spoken out in these first hours and days about the importance of not using this tragedy to forward a political agenda.  Tragedies such as this are only compounded when they are used as craven political tools.  The President and Gov. Romney both showed patriotic leadership by suspending their political activities and calling for a day of mourning and respect.  

Unfortunately one politician has already tried to make hay of these events.  An advocate for making the United States an exclusively Christian nation (and likely only his particular brand of Christianity), Rep. Louie Gohmert of Texas was on the radio today and forwarded his theory that this senseless tragedy is a symptom of “ongoing attacks on Judeo-Christian beliefs.”  The foolishness of that statement is manifest.  What is really troubling is what Gohmert says later in the interview.  He goes on to claim that God has been pushed out of national life and ask, “what have we done with God?”

Just a few days ago, George Zimmerman, the man who has admitted to shooting teenager Treyvon Martin on February 26 of this year.  Whether or not Zimmerman bears any criminal liability remains to be determined.  In the midst of the media frenzy, Zimmerman and his attorney went on FoxNews recently for an interview with Sean Hannity.  During the interview Zimmerman was asked if he had any regrets about that night.  Zimmerman responded that he did not saying, “I feel like it was all God’s plan.”  Zimmerman did later offer his prayers for Martin’s family.

Both Gohmert and Zimmerman invoke the name of God in reference to their narratives about world events.  Gohmert fears that God has been somehow banished from public life.  Zimmerman recalls an image of God as divine puppeteer drawing and relaxing the strings as world events unfold below.  These two conflicting images of God, one of a weak deity powerless before the forces of politics and one of a controlling deity manipulating human events without regard to consequence, are the two faces of a god of convenience invented to support the civil religion of modern America.

Although Zimmerman’s evocation of God as the cause of the events of that tragic night is troubling, more troubling still is the image of God Gohmert and so many others promote.  According to this narrative, a generically Judeo-Christian God wills that this be a Christian nation, however the evil forces of secularism have sidelined all things religious and banished God from the scene. 

Is this the same God who parted the seas and let the people of Israel pass from Pharaoh’s hands?  Is this the same God who, when the people strayed, sent prophet after prophet after prophet to call them back even in the midst of captivity?  Is this the same God who, in love and devotion, sent God’s only son into the world to live and die as one of us only to defeat death and rise again on the third day? 

There is a great song in the 1970's musical "One By One" which tells the story of Noah and his family.  Noah, whose confidence in God will not be shaken, sings the song "The God I Know."  The God he knows will never abandon them.  I thought of that song when I read Gohmert's remarks.  The God I know and the one he was talking about seem like very very different things.

This image of God as victim may be politically convenient but it is hardly biblical.  God’s covenant is not negated because no one particular understanding of the divine is forced on our public life.  God is not a victim of secularism.  God is God no matter what happens or what the world may do.

One of the reasons this narrative of “God as victim of secular humanism” finds such purchase in culture is that there is not a competing narrative.  If the only flavor of ice cream you taste is vanilla, then it is easy to think that all ice cream is vanilla.  The same is true for the gospel.  If the only gospel that is publicly proclaimed is the gospel of God as victim, it is no wonder that so many people view the church as little more than a cranky old man railing against the loud music and “progress.”

In truth, the narrative of Jesus Christ is more powerful than any politically expedient pseudo-theology can ever be. 

Jesus Christ says, “I am with you always.”  In the beauty, in joy, in sorrow, in hope, in despair and, yes, in a crowded midnight movie where human brokenness takes a deadly turn.  Christ is with the victims, their families, those who care for and treat their wounds and those who are charged with bringing a measure of safety and normalcy back to the city of Aurora and to us all.  Christ promises to be with us always and Christ is as good as his word.

Jesus Christ says, “You will be with me in paradise,” to the convict on the cross next to him.  In our shining moments of faith and in our deepest prisons of sin, Christ does not abandon us.  Christ is in the prison cell with the troubled young man who did this unspeakable thing, with his family and friends who seek some measure of understanding and with all who, captive to the brokenness of this world, need him most.  He is not there because any of us deserve for him to be there.  He is there because he is the Christ and the Christ does not forsake us.

Jesus Christ says, “put your sword back in its place for those who live by the sword will die by the sword.”  It is not upon us to exact vengeance on this young man but to fervently and ceaselessly pray for him and for the victims.  To pray, like the persistent widow and the faithless judge’s door, without ceasing.  Jesus Christ calls us to live a different way to live.

The God made known in Jesus Christ is not a weak willed generic deity hoping to be found worthy of political and social acceptance.  And God is not a petulant child who storms away because we do not do just as God expects us to.  No, the God made known in Jesus Christ is a God who, when floods, commandments, exile and prophets do not work, sends his only son to live, die and rise for us all.

That is the story of Christ and the story of Christ is the story of the church.  Christ does not wait for permission to love us or give himself for us.  And nothing, Congressman Gohmert, can relegate that story to the background.