I remember as a kid on the 4th of July – I was maybe 7 or 8 years old – putting red, white and blue crepe paper through the spokes of my bike tires and attaching a playing card to the back wheel somehow through the spokes, that produced a rattling sound. Then I rode it in the parade in the small town I grew up in. I think that was my first brush with nationalism, hopefully not jingoism or extreme patriotism: My country is the greatest country on the face of the earth! But I do sometimes think about all the wonderful things that have happened in America just in my lifetime.
When I was 9, the Beatles came to America. At the time, I didn’t think that was such a big deal. But my older sisters sure did. Now I look back on it and think – Wow! – the Beatles didn’t just help make rock and roll amazingly popular in America, they also helped make Eastern thought and religion amazing popular in America.
When I was 9 and 10 years old, the Civil Rights Act and the Voting Rights Act passed. (Of course, I wasn’t aware of it at the time.) One, ended discrimination based on race; the other, gave all people of color the right to vote. Think about that for a moment. In my lifetime, blacks and other minorities got the right to vote and they could no longer be discriminated against.
When I was 14, man first walked on the moon. Wow! How cool was that? (Plus we got Tang out of the deal.)
Of course, also in my lifetime, the Vietnam War happened, President Kennedy, Bobby Kennedy and Martin Luther King Jr. were assassinated, President Nixon resigned in disgrace. And many other awful things took place. It’s not always easy to remember the bad with the good. Reality is sometimes hard. Or as they say: Reality Bites, if we force ourselves to look at it.
Do some of us get a little too sentimental on holidays like the 4th of July? Do we look at America through rose-colored or red, white and blue colored glasses? Do we, if only for a day, feel like those old Vietnam-era bumper stickers? America: Love it or leave it.
Yakof Smirnoff is a Russian comedian. He became popular in America in the 80s. I saw an old video of his act from back then. He said, “I like it here in America, because here you have freedom of speech. You can go even to [President] Reagan and you can say, ‘I don’t like Reagan.’ We can do the same thing in Russia. We can go to [President] Brezhnev and we can say, ‘I don’t like Reagan.’” Yakov Smirnoff had a catch phrase that concluded many of his jokes. He would point out something silly about the United States, then he would say, “America – what a country!” America is quite a country, although it might not be as good as some people would like to believe.
Jesus tells his disciples, “As you go, proclaim the good news, ‘The kingdom of heaven has come near.'” I don’t think Jesus was talking about himself. I used to think that Jesus was saying: I, Jesus, have come from heaven and now I have come near you, so the kingdom of heaven has come near. I don’t think that anymore. I think what Jesus was saying was: Heaven is all around us; we just have to see it. Now I imagine there are those who think America is heaven on earth, but that might be going a little too far. In America, we have poverty in the midst of plenty. In America, the rich are getting richer and the poor are getting poorer. In America, we can always seem to find money to pay for war, but we can’t always seem to find money to pay for extending unemployment benefits. And of course America has an imperfect past too. 150 years ago we had slavery in this country.
In his first inaugural address in 1861, Abraham Lincoln appealed to, “…the better angels of our nature.” Those better angels did not prevail and Civil War broke out, primarily over slavery. The North eventually won, of course, the slaves were freed, but not before hundreds of thousands of Americans on both sides died.
In his second inaugural address four years later, President Lincoln concluded, “With malice toward none; with charity for all.” America did not achieve that goal then – with malice toward none; with charity for all – and we didn’t reach it a hundred years later either.
In 1961, President Kennedy concluded his one, and unfortunately only, inaugural address with these words, “…let us go forth to lead the land we love, asking [God’s] blessing and [God’s] help, but knowing that here on earth God's work must truly be our own.” I always like those words. They could be the benediction every Sunday in every church in America: “…let us go forth to lead the land we love, asking [God’s] blessing and [God’s] help, but knowing that here on earth God's work must truly be our own.”
Is America doing God’s work? Is America living up to its fullest potential? Is America living up to its ideals of freedom to assemble, freedom of religion, freedom of speech? In many ways I think the answer to those questions is yes, and I base that on personal experiences.
The other day a handful of us were marching for peace downtown, as we do every week. We stopped at a corner and held up our peace signs and people honked their horns at us in support. Now that might have something to do with the fact that our signs say, “Honk For Peace.” Well, a police car drove up and the sergeant told us that some people who live above a store nearby didn’t like the noise and could we stop. I asked if it would be okay if we moved a block away. He said, yeah that would be great. So we did. Sure, we had to move a block away, but the point is we march for peace every week in America. And the government doesn’t arrest us! And the government doesn’t shoot us! And the government doesn’t kidnap us! And we don’t have to get a permit to march! Our permit is the First Amendment! We have freedom of speech!
Every Sunday we meet here, to gather together and express our beliefs. (Or our non-beliefs.) And we can do that however we want. We don’t have to be a Christian church. We can be a Buddhist temple. We can be a Muslim mosque. Heck, we can even be an…Interfaith Congregation. (Oh my.) The point is the government doesn’t tell us how to worship! (America is not – yet – a theocracy.) We have freedom of religion! And we have freedom from religion! Can I get an Amen?!
Every now and then some of us write columns or letters to the newspaper. And in those columns or letters we can write whatever we want. We can attack or defend the administration. We can speak in favor of or in opposition to some religious policy. Heck we can even come out in support of gay rights. (Oh my.) Granted the newspaper might not always run what we write, but the point is the government doesn’t dictate what we can or can’t say. We have freedom of the press! (Or at least the newspaper does.)
Every Friday I do a local radio show called “Faith and Reason.” I can say on that show pretty much anything I want, as long as somehow it touches on religion. And since I believe everything touches on religion, I’m free to say just about anything I want, as long as I don’t swear. The point is the government doesn’t dictate what I can or can’t say! (Except for not swearing.) I have freedom of speech! (And, of course, people have the freedom to turn off the radio if they don’t like what I say.)
In 1963, in his “I Have A Dream” speech in Washington DC, Martin Luther King Jr. proclaimed, “Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia. Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee. Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.” Does it do that? Does freedom ring everywhere in America on this Independence Day, 2010?
Our country has a legacy of liberty to pass on to future generations. Will it? Will freedom of speech prevail? Will freedom of religion prevail? Will freedom from religion prevail? Will our country continue to see educating all children as essential for a democracy? Will our country continue to strive to provide for the general welfare? Will our country respect the freedoms of people in other countries, including the freedom not to be taken over by an imperial power? Each one of us has a legacy of liberty to pass on to future generations. What will that legacy of liberty be? Will that legacy include the liberty to think for yourself? Will that legacy include the liberty to believe what you want to believe, without fear or favor? Will that legacy include the liberty to speak out for what is right and fair and just? Will that legacy include the liberty to act for equal rights for everyone, for justice for more than just us and for peace for our country and for the world? Some questions to ponder as I gladly say to you this morning: Happy 4th of July!
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Addressing An Issue That Jesus Never Did
[The following is a column which appeared in the Holland Sentinel.]
During Holland’s Tulip Time Festival, while enjoying dinner from one of the food vendors (something healthy, like a bratwurst sandwich), a man asked me, “Are you Bill Freeman?” I hesitated answering because, as a chaplain, I sometimes take controversial stands on issues. For example, I support the rights of two adults to marry (even though, in every other way, they seem to be of sound mind), whether the two adults are named Adam and Eve or Adam and Steve.
After seeing that the man was not carrying a knife or a gun, I replied, “Yes, I am Bill Freeman.” Turns out that, years ago, in a previous life as a TV news reporter, I’d done a story about the man. (And, miracle of miracles, he’d liked it!)
Because of my stands on issues, I sometimes receive items in the mail (and frequently they’re not even ticking). Recently a letter arrived from a woman we’ll call Gertrude Van Smith. She begins, “It is hard for me to understand anyone who claims to be a pastor that doesn’t understand the Scriptures and God’s clear cut ruling that homosexuality is sin.” She quotes from the New Life Version of the Christian New Testament, 1 Corinthians 6:9, “…people who do sex sins with their own sex, will have no place in the holy nation of God.” She continues, “I would hate to be in your shoes when you stand before God.” She then informs me where I will end up after I die. (Care to guess?)
Here’s my reply.
Dear Ms. Van Smith,
While we might disagree on some things, we can both agree that Jesus was a great teacher. Matthew 12:10-12 says, “A man was there with a withered hand, and they asked Jesus, ‘Is it lawful to cure on the Sabbath?’ so that they might accuse him. He said to them, ‘Suppose one of you has only one sheep and it falls into a pit on the Sabbath; will you not lay hold of it and lift it out? How much more valuable is a human being than a sheep! So it is lawful to do good on the Sabbath.’” What Jesus is saying goes against one of the Ten Commandments - not to do anything on the Sabbath.
Like Jesus, Christians don’t always take the Scriptures literally. For example, Paul says in 1 Corinthians 14:34, “Women should be silent in the churches.” And yet many churches today joyfully call women to be preachers.
Christians also don’t take the Bible literally when it supports slavery, as Paul seems to in Ephesians 6:5, “Slaves, obey your earthly masters.” Christians stopped owning slaves because of the Civil War, of course, but also perhaps because they heard Jesus’ words echoing across the centuries, “How much more valuable is a human being than a sheep!”
Today, since Jesus did not say one word about homosexuals or homosexuality, Christians face a dilemma: 1) take seven Bible passages literally that condemn homosexuals and/or homosexuality, or 2) support human beings who happen to be practicing homosexuals. That dilemma will be solved, as it was with women in ministry and owning slaves, when Christians increasingly hear Jesus’ still-echoing words: “How much more valuable is a human being!”
I hope my reply convinces Ms. Van Smith that, if I do end up where she thinks I will (and, God knows, there are many reasons why I should), it at least shouldn’t be because of an issue that Jesus never addressed.
During Holland’s Tulip Time Festival, while enjoying dinner from one of the food vendors (something healthy, like a bratwurst sandwich), a man asked me, “Are you Bill Freeman?” I hesitated answering because, as a chaplain, I sometimes take controversial stands on issues. For example, I support the rights of two adults to marry (even though, in every other way, they seem to be of sound mind), whether the two adults are named Adam and Eve or Adam and Steve.
After seeing that the man was not carrying a knife or a gun, I replied, “Yes, I am Bill Freeman.” Turns out that, years ago, in a previous life as a TV news reporter, I’d done a story about the man. (And, miracle of miracles, he’d liked it!)
Because of my stands on issues, I sometimes receive items in the mail (and frequently they’re not even ticking). Recently a letter arrived from a woman we’ll call Gertrude Van Smith. She begins, “It is hard for me to understand anyone who claims to be a pastor that doesn’t understand the Scriptures and God’s clear cut ruling that homosexuality is sin.” She quotes from the New Life Version of the Christian New Testament, 1 Corinthians 6:9, “…people who do sex sins with their own sex, will have no place in the holy nation of God.” She continues, “I would hate to be in your shoes when you stand before God.” She then informs me where I will end up after I die. (Care to guess?)
Here’s my reply.
Dear Ms. Van Smith,
While we might disagree on some things, we can both agree that Jesus was a great teacher. Matthew 12:10-12 says, “A man was there with a withered hand, and they asked Jesus, ‘Is it lawful to cure on the Sabbath?’ so that they might accuse him. He said to them, ‘Suppose one of you has only one sheep and it falls into a pit on the Sabbath; will you not lay hold of it and lift it out? How much more valuable is a human being than a sheep! So it is lawful to do good on the Sabbath.’” What Jesus is saying goes against one of the Ten Commandments - not to do anything on the Sabbath.
Like Jesus, Christians don’t always take the Scriptures literally. For example, Paul says in 1 Corinthians 14:34, “Women should be silent in the churches.” And yet many churches today joyfully call women to be preachers.
Christians also don’t take the Bible literally when it supports slavery, as Paul seems to in Ephesians 6:5, “Slaves, obey your earthly masters.” Christians stopped owning slaves because of the Civil War, of course, but also perhaps because they heard Jesus’ words echoing across the centuries, “How much more valuable is a human being than a sheep!”
Today, since Jesus did not say one word about homosexuals or homosexuality, Christians face a dilemma: 1) take seven Bible passages literally that condemn homosexuals and/or homosexuality, or 2) support human beings who happen to be practicing homosexuals. That dilemma will be solved, as it was with women in ministry and owning slaves, when Christians increasingly hear Jesus’ still-echoing words: “How much more valuable is a human being!”
I hope my reply convinces Ms. Van Smith that, if I do end up where she thinks I will (and, God knows, there are many reasons why I should), it at least shouldn’t be because of an issue that Jesus never addressed.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Have You Hugged Your (Inner) Child Today?
I heard a standup comic once commenting on those “Baby On Board” signs. (I just saw one of those signs the other day.) The comic said, “What’s the purpose of those signs? If my car’s careening out of control and I see one of those signs on the car I’m about to crash into, am I supposed to say, “Oh, I can’t hit that car. I better smash into this van full of nuns!”
I always look upon those “Baby On Board” signs as something like a birth announcement: Hey everybody! I’ve just had a baby! And I’m so happy! I want you to share in my joy!
There used to be a bumper sticker that was very popular years ago: Have you hugged your child today?
My question is: Have you hugged your (inner) child today? Psychologists tell us that your inner child can mean one of two things. On the one hand, your inner child is your playful side. So hugging your inner child is embracing your child-like qualities. On the other hand, hugging your inner child is when you look back on the child you were many years ago and you hug that child, particularly if you had a traumatic childhood and that child needs to be hugged and healed.
I overheard a young teenage girl the other day at JP’s coffee house. She told her friends that her mom used to call her a brat, but now her mom refers to her as a different B-word, a B-word that rhymes with witch. My jaw dropped. Yikes!
Now, maybe her mom was just “kidding around” – we can only hope. But who says that about their own teenage daughter, even in jest? In 10 years, when that girl is walking on South Division in Grand Rapids, looking for “customers,” I wonder if mom will have “absolutely no idea” what made her daughter do that. (Hopefully, that’s not where that girl will end up.)
I read a book a few months ago called, “Severe Attachment Disorder in Childhood,” by Niels Peter Rygaard. According to the book, Severe Attachment Disorder, or SAD, affects perhaps 1 in 20 children. It’s seen in Russian children raised in orphanages, who aren’t touched much at all, but it’s also seen in children in America who lack a loving touch, appropriate affection and encouraging words from their parents. SAD can result in personality disorder, addiction, depression, suicide and other problems.
Hopefully, one day all parents will understand the importance of hugging their children. And all children will be hugged. Failing that, or in addition to that, perhaps we all have to take it upon ourselves to hug our own inner child, our own hurt side, but also our own playful side. Jesus seemed to understand something like that.
“At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, ‘Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?’ Jesus called a child, whom he put among them, and said, ‘Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.’”
In that passage, Matthew 18:1-3, I don’t think Jesus is talking just about heaven in the hereafter; I think Jesus is talking about heaven in the here-and-now. Jesus seems to be encouraging people to be more child-like: innocent, playful perhaps, full of wonder maybe. Jesus appears to be telling us not to take ourselves too seriously; to enjoy life; to have a little fun. That’s the way to reach heaven on earth. Now compare Jesus’ words with those of the Apostle Paul in 1 Corinthians 13:11.
“When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways.”
What a contrast! Jesus is saying, “Become like children.” Paul is saying, “Put an end to childish ways.” (I think that, in a nutshell, is why I like Jesus a little more than I like Paul: Jesus is more playful; Paul is too serious.) Now, don’t get me wrong; many of Paul’s writings are profound. 1 Corinthians 13:1 is simply amazing. “If I speak in the tongues of humans and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.” Paul understands love, but I’m not sure he understands children as much as Jesus did; or that Paul understands our own need or necessity to be playful, to be childlike, to not completely grow up. In a similar way, Jim Trelease understands that, too.
Jim Trelease wrote several books about the importance of reading aloud to children. Jim Trelease says, “The prime purpose of being four is to enjoy being four - of secondary importance is to prepare for being five.”
I would amend what Jim Trelease is saying just a little bit. I would say that the prime purpose of being any age is to enjoy being that age – whether you’re 4, 24, 44, 64, 84 or 104. What Jim Trelease is saying, though, is let children be children. Don’t look upon children as little adults. Let them enjoy childhood. Help them enjoy childhood. Who knows, maybe it will even help us to enjoy our (hopefully) never-ending childhood.
The other day I saw live TV coverage of Barack Obama giving the commencement address at the graduation ceremony of Kalamazoo Central High School students. It was an historic event. It’s the first time a president has ever given a commencement address at a high school. President Obama told the students, “Together as a community, you’ve embraced the motto of this school district: ‘Every child, every opportunity, every time,’ because you believe, like I do, that every child – regardless of what they look like, where they come from, or how much money their parents have – every child who walks through your schoolhouse doors deserves a quality education.“ I liked his speech, but I liked what happened after his speech even more.
I noticed that several students, after they received their diploma, when they got the opportunity to shake hands with the president, that many of them did, but some of them did not. Instead they gave him a hug. It was interesting to see how much closer a hug seemed to bring the president and the students than just a handshake. Touching someone is more meaningful to them. At least with most people.
Many years ago, I worked for Channel 8 news in Grand Rapids, the NBC affiliate. At that time, “St. Elsewhere” was a popular drama on NBC. One of the stars of that show was Howie Mandel. One day, Howie Mandel visited our station. One of our news producers shouted, “Howie Mandel is in our newsroom!” More recently, Howie Mandel was the host of “Deal or No Deal” and a judge on “America’s Got Talent.” I saw him a month ago being a judge on “Marriage Ref.” A couple of his fellow judges touched him, as a joke, because apparently he hates being touched.
Howie Mandel is what’s called a germaphobe. He doesn’t want to be touched for fear of coming into contact with germs. He hates it when people touch him. I had a seminary classmate like that.
She wasn’t a germaphobe, she just didn’t like being touched. In seminary, during chapel, she didn’t want to take part in the passing of the peace. She didn’t want to shake hands; she certainly didn’t want to be hugged. At least not back then.
At our recent 5-year reunion, she was there. I said “Hi” to her, but hesitated even shaking hands with her, because I knew she didn’t like to be touched. She chuckled and told me she’s been a pastor for 5 years (where shaking hands, hugging and being hugged is almost a job requirement), so now she said hugging is okay with her. So I joyfully hugged her.
I interned at a church once where the pastor told me that they don’t do a passing of the peace, because many of the people there didn’t want to even acknowledge the existence of the person sitting next to them, let alone shake hands with them or – God forbid – hug them.
I call churches like that Elliott Ness churches, because they’re filled with: The Untouchables. I never want Interfaith Congregation to become like that; that’s why we do a passing of the peace. I never thought of this before, but maybe we also do it because in these days of Facebook “friends,” where you communicate with many people, but rarely if ever come in contact with them, we’re in need of human touch. Maybe we don’t need to just hug our own inner child, maybe we need to hug the inner child of the people sitting next to us.
During this past school year, I read to my wife’s grandsons’ Kindergarten and 2nd Grade classes, or they read to me. I’m called Opa, which I think means grandpa in Dutch. A month or so ago, after school, we picked up her grandsons. As we were walking up to the school, all the students were outside. I kept hearing, “It’s Opa!” “There’s Opa!” “Hi Opa!” That was neat. On the last day that I visited their classes a couple weeks ago, I had all the kids give me a group hug, which turned into individual hugs. That was neat too.
I got to thinking. It seems to me that the job of parents, grandparents and great-grandparents, the job of schools, the job of churches and the job of each one of us is surprisingly similar. The job of parents, grandparents and great-grandparents is to nurture their children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren in body, mind and spirit. (If body, mind and spirit sounds a little too new-agey for you, then how about: physically, mentally and emotionally.) The job of schools is to nurture students in body, mind and spirit. The job of churches is to nurture people – inside and outside their walls, as much as possible - in body, mind and spirit. The job of each one of us is to nurture others (to the extent that we can) and to nurture ourselves in body, mind and spirit. Perhaps the easiest way to begin doing that (respecting people’s boundaries, of course) is by giving them - and ourselves – a hug. Have you hugged somebody today? Have you hugged your (inner) child today? If so, will you do it again tomorrow and the next day and the next?
I always look upon those “Baby On Board” signs as something like a birth announcement: Hey everybody! I’ve just had a baby! And I’m so happy! I want you to share in my joy!
There used to be a bumper sticker that was very popular years ago: Have you hugged your child today?
My question is: Have you hugged your (inner) child today? Psychologists tell us that your inner child can mean one of two things. On the one hand, your inner child is your playful side. So hugging your inner child is embracing your child-like qualities. On the other hand, hugging your inner child is when you look back on the child you were many years ago and you hug that child, particularly if you had a traumatic childhood and that child needs to be hugged and healed.
I overheard a young teenage girl the other day at JP’s coffee house. She told her friends that her mom used to call her a brat, but now her mom refers to her as a different B-word, a B-word that rhymes with witch. My jaw dropped. Yikes!
Now, maybe her mom was just “kidding around” – we can only hope. But who says that about their own teenage daughter, even in jest? In 10 years, when that girl is walking on South Division in Grand Rapids, looking for “customers,” I wonder if mom will have “absolutely no idea” what made her daughter do that. (Hopefully, that’s not where that girl will end up.)
I read a book a few months ago called, “Severe Attachment Disorder in Childhood,” by Niels Peter Rygaard. According to the book, Severe Attachment Disorder, or SAD, affects perhaps 1 in 20 children. It’s seen in Russian children raised in orphanages, who aren’t touched much at all, but it’s also seen in children in America who lack a loving touch, appropriate affection and encouraging words from their parents. SAD can result in personality disorder, addiction, depression, suicide and other problems.
Hopefully, one day all parents will understand the importance of hugging their children. And all children will be hugged. Failing that, or in addition to that, perhaps we all have to take it upon ourselves to hug our own inner child, our own hurt side, but also our own playful side. Jesus seemed to understand something like that.
“At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, ‘Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?’ Jesus called a child, whom he put among them, and said, ‘Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.’”
In that passage, Matthew 18:1-3, I don’t think Jesus is talking just about heaven in the hereafter; I think Jesus is talking about heaven in the here-and-now. Jesus seems to be encouraging people to be more child-like: innocent, playful perhaps, full of wonder maybe. Jesus appears to be telling us not to take ourselves too seriously; to enjoy life; to have a little fun. That’s the way to reach heaven on earth. Now compare Jesus’ words with those of the Apostle Paul in 1 Corinthians 13:11.
“When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child; when I became an adult, I put an end to childish ways.”
What a contrast! Jesus is saying, “Become like children.” Paul is saying, “Put an end to childish ways.” (I think that, in a nutshell, is why I like Jesus a little more than I like Paul: Jesus is more playful; Paul is too serious.) Now, don’t get me wrong; many of Paul’s writings are profound. 1 Corinthians 13:1 is simply amazing. “If I speak in the tongues of humans and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.” Paul understands love, but I’m not sure he understands children as much as Jesus did; or that Paul understands our own need or necessity to be playful, to be childlike, to not completely grow up. In a similar way, Jim Trelease understands that, too.
Jim Trelease wrote several books about the importance of reading aloud to children. Jim Trelease says, “The prime purpose of being four is to enjoy being four - of secondary importance is to prepare for being five.”
I would amend what Jim Trelease is saying just a little bit. I would say that the prime purpose of being any age is to enjoy being that age – whether you’re 4, 24, 44, 64, 84 or 104. What Jim Trelease is saying, though, is let children be children. Don’t look upon children as little adults. Let them enjoy childhood. Help them enjoy childhood. Who knows, maybe it will even help us to enjoy our (hopefully) never-ending childhood.
The other day I saw live TV coverage of Barack Obama giving the commencement address at the graduation ceremony of Kalamazoo Central High School students. It was an historic event. It’s the first time a president has ever given a commencement address at a high school. President Obama told the students, “Together as a community, you’ve embraced the motto of this school district: ‘Every child, every opportunity, every time,’ because you believe, like I do, that every child – regardless of what they look like, where they come from, or how much money their parents have – every child who walks through your schoolhouse doors deserves a quality education.“ I liked his speech, but I liked what happened after his speech even more.
I noticed that several students, after they received their diploma, when they got the opportunity to shake hands with the president, that many of them did, but some of them did not. Instead they gave him a hug. It was interesting to see how much closer a hug seemed to bring the president and the students than just a handshake. Touching someone is more meaningful to them. At least with most people.
Many years ago, I worked for Channel 8 news in Grand Rapids, the NBC affiliate. At that time, “St. Elsewhere” was a popular drama on NBC. One of the stars of that show was Howie Mandel. One day, Howie Mandel visited our station. One of our news producers shouted, “Howie Mandel is in our newsroom!” More recently, Howie Mandel was the host of “Deal or No Deal” and a judge on “America’s Got Talent.” I saw him a month ago being a judge on “Marriage Ref.” A couple of his fellow judges touched him, as a joke, because apparently he hates being touched.
Howie Mandel is what’s called a germaphobe. He doesn’t want to be touched for fear of coming into contact with germs. He hates it when people touch him. I had a seminary classmate like that.
She wasn’t a germaphobe, she just didn’t like being touched. In seminary, during chapel, she didn’t want to take part in the passing of the peace. She didn’t want to shake hands; she certainly didn’t want to be hugged. At least not back then.
At our recent 5-year reunion, she was there. I said “Hi” to her, but hesitated even shaking hands with her, because I knew she didn’t like to be touched. She chuckled and told me she’s been a pastor for 5 years (where shaking hands, hugging and being hugged is almost a job requirement), so now she said hugging is okay with her. So I joyfully hugged her.
I interned at a church once where the pastor told me that they don’t do a passing of the peace, because many of the people there didn’t want to even acknowledge the existence of the person sitting next to them, let alone shake hands with them or – God forbid – hug them.
I call churches like that Elliott Ness churches, because they’re filled with: The Untouchables. I never want Interfaith Congregation to become like that; that’s why we do a passing of the peace. I never thought of this before, but maybe we also do it because in these days of Facebook “friends,” where you communicate with many people, but rarely if ever come in contact with them, we’re in need of human touch. Maybe we don’t need to just hug our own inner child, maybe we need to hug the inner child of the people sitting next to us.
During this past school year, I read to my wife’s grandsons’ Kindergarten and 2nd Grade classes, or they read to me. I’m called Opa, which I think means grandpa in Dutch. A month or so ago, after school, we picked up her grandsons. As we were walking up to the school, all the students were outside. I kept hearing, “It’s Opa!” “There’s Opa!” “Hi Opa!” That was neat. On the last day that I visited their classes a couple weeks ago, I had all the kids give me a group hug, which turned into individual hugs. That was neat too.
I got to thinking. It seems to me that the job of parents, grandparents and great-grandparents, the job of schools, the job of churches and the job of each one of us is surprisingly similar. The job of parents, grandparents and great-grandparents is to nurture their children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren in body, mind and spirit. (If body, mind and spirit sounds a little too new-agey for you, then how about: physically, mentally and emotionally.) The job of schools is to nurture students in body, mind and spirit. The job of churches is to nurture people – inside and outside their walls, as much as possible - in body, mind and spirit. The job of each one of us is to nurture others (to the extent that we can) and to nurture ourselves in body, mind and spirit. Perhaps the easiest way to begin doing that (respecting people’s boundaries, of course) is by giving them - and ourselves – a hug. Have you hugged somebody today? Have you hugged your (inner) child today? If so, will you do it again tomorrow and the next day and the next?
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Christianity, Judaism, Buddhism, Etc., Are Verbs
A couple of weeks ago I was at Skiles downtown, enjoying pizza with a friend and I noticed over his shoulder a TV screen. The sound was off, but the picture was there. They were showing a “sporting event.” I use that term loosely. I think it was called extreme fighting or ultimate fighting, something like that. It was basically just two guys kicking and hitting each other. They were whaling on each other. Until they ran out of energy and then they were just sort of flailing their arms and eventually one of them was declared the winner. When he was declared the winner, he pointed up to heaven and did a little dance, I’m assuming to thank God for his wonderful victory. Now I’m not sure what that guy’s concept of God is, heck I’m not even sure what my concept of God is, but at that moment my idea of God was: As that guy was pointing up to heaven, apparently giving God credit, God was looking down and saying, “Ummm, no thanks, buddy; I don’t want the credit for that.”
When I was in seminary a few years ago, I learned a new idea, well I learned several new ideas, but one in particular. It was the doctrine I’ll call “You don’t get the credit; you just get the blame.” It goes something like this: If you do something right, then that’s not really you doing that, that’s God working through you or the Spirit working through you or Jesus working through you or something; it’s not you. But, if you do something wrong, then that’s all you, buddy, that’s your fault. That didn’t make any sense to me. I can understand saying, “If you do something right, then that’s not really you, that’s God or the Spirit working through you.” I’ve had times, believe it or not, when I’ve done things, like write a sermon and I’d get to the end of it and read through it and think: my goodness, I didn’t have any idea that this was what this was going to end up as; it’s better than I could have imagined. It felt like it wasn’t me doing that, it was the Spirit or God, or the Source or whatever you want to call it, working through me. So I can go along with that. But why doesn’t it go the other way? If you do something wrong, why not say: that’s not your fault, that was the devil or the evil spirits or whatever working through you. But that’s not how the doctrine of “You get all the blame, but none of the credit” works. I just don’t think that’s right.
Also, when I first started going to Western Theological Seminary, apparently my reputation preceded me, because one of the professors that I met immediately called me the “high priest of heresy.” I think he meant it jokingly, but I thought, “I’m not that heretical, am I?” I’m in the mainstream of at least liberal theology. Come to think of it, that was probably why I was called the “high priest of heresy.” I wasn’t orthodox enough. Now “orthodoxy,” as you probably know, means “right belief,” believing the things the church or the religious tradition says to believe. “Orthopraxy” means “right action.” I think it means doing justice and loving kindness and acting compassionately.
I’m reading a book, “God Is Not One.” It’s by Stephen Prothero, who is a religion professor at Boston University. The basic premise of his book is that everybody says, “God is one” and “we’re all one big happy family” and all that, but how can that be if the major religions of the world are so different? How can you reconcile Buddhism, that doesn’t believe in a god and Hinduism that believes in many gods? In that book, he talks about orthodoxy and orthopraxy, but what he is talking about is “right belief,” the doctrine and dogma of religions and about the rituals and routines of religion, like lighting a candle during the service. He doesn’t talk much at all about what I consider orthopraxy, which is doing justice, loving kindness, acting compassionately. I think religion without justice is impotent.
Jesus goes to the temple, sits down and begins teaching, while the people gather around him. Up walk several men and they bring a woman with them. They tell Jesus that this woman has committed adultery. They caught her in the act of adultery. They say to Jesus. “What should we do? Because Moses says she should be stoned to death. What say you, Jesus?” They did this, according to the story in the Bible, to test him, to see if he would say, “Yes, Moses was correct, stone her.” But he writes on the ground, scribbling in the dirt, basically ignoring them. But they keep pestering him saying, “What should we do?” He looks up and says, “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.” Then he goes back to writing in the dirt. He looks up again and they’ve all dispersed; all but the woman. He says to her, “What happened to them?” She says, “They left.” Jesus says, “Well they did not condemn you, neither do I; go and sin no more.”
Jesus, I think many Christians would assume, was the first Christian. Let’s go with that, probably all of us here know he was Jewish, but for this story let’s say Jesus was the first Christian. It seems to me that Jesus was a Christian who didn’t just believe things … he was not just a noun “Christian,” he was a verb “Christian.” He took action. He saved the life of this adulterous woman. He shamed the men who brought her to him.
Many of us probably know the story of Moses from the Hebrew scriptures or from Charlton Heston’s portrayal of him in the movie, “The Ten Commandments.” One of the stories of Moses is that he led the Jews out of Egypt. He went to Pharoah and said, “Let my people go!” And Pharoah eventually said, “Okay.” And so they went. Assuming that story is true, Moses was a Jew who believed things, but he also did things. He was a noun “Jew,” but he was also a verb “Jew.” He took action. He led the Jewish people out of slavery to freedom.
The Dalai Lama has written many books. I think my favorite book that the Dalai Lama has written is “The Four Noble Truths.” If you haven’t read that book and you get the chance, I would highly recommend it. It explains, I think very well, suffering, and talks about how it can be alleviated from others and ourselves by acting compassionately toward others and toward ourselves. The Dalai Lama is a Buddhist. He believes things, but he also does things. He’s not just a noun “Buddhist,” he’s a verb “Buddhist.” He takes action. He writes a book that some of us find helpful.
Varion Fry lived in France. He was a frail man, an intellectual, not religious. He was apparently a humanist. You might not expect that Varian Fry would have stood up to the Gestapo, but he did. He helped 1500 people escape from Nazi occupied France in 1940 and ‘41. Varian Fry was a humanist who did things, he didn’t just believe things (or not believe things). He was a noun “humanist,” but he was also a verb “humanist.” He took action. He helped 1500 people escape from Nazi occupied France.
At this point in the sermon, I was going to quote the beginning of the Hippocratic Oath, the oath that doctors take, that says, “First do no harm.” But I looked it up online and it’s a common misconception that the Hippocratic Oath begins, “First do no harm.” That’s not true. In spite of that, I would still say that religious people who want to be verb religious people and not just noun religious people, should first do no harm.
The first church I pastored was a small church in a small town. The first summer I was there, the only summer I was there, I put together a little flier, not unlike the flier we have on our back table. It was about what I saw that church as or what I wanted that church to be, I think. I knocked on a hundred doors in that little town, and handed out fliers to a hundred people, or stuck fliers between the door handle and the doorframe. A week or two later, no one had come to church as a result. Then one Sunday, I saw a new person sitting in church. She was about five rows back. So, about ten minutes into the service, during our passing of the peace, I walked up to her and I said, “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.” She said, “No, this is the first time I’ve come here.” I said, “Oh, great.” She said, “I came because of the flier you left at my door.” I said, “Oh, wonderful,” She said, “But I won’t be back.” What? She said, “I don’t feel welcome here.” How could that be? She walked maybe 5 steps into the building, up some stairs and then ten more steps into the sanctuary and sat down. She was there for 10 minutes. Yet she didn’t feel welcome. Now I know why she didn’t feel welcome. She wasn’t one of the family or friends of the powers that be. They made her feel unwelcome. Immediately. I look back on that and I think: That wasn’t really a church; that was a social club. That was a place that just cared about the people inside the four walls. They didn’t care about opening the doors of the church and welcoming new people in. But I opened the doors and welcomed new people in (or at least one new person in) and they didn’t like that at all, because that’s not who they were. Anytime a church only cares about the people inside the four walls, and doesn’t care about welcoming people in or helping people who don’t go there, it isn’t a church, it’s a social club.
If Interfaith Congregation is only about going to Denny’s after the service, or having a potluck on Wednesday night, or going bowling or playing miniature golf, then we wouldn’t be a church or a house of worship, we’d be a social club. We become a church or a religious institution or a house of worship when we feed the poor on Saturday morning, when a couple of us walk for peace in downtown Holland on Thursday afternoon, when some of us go to the city council and ask the council to pass an anti-discrimination ordinance in Holland to protect gays and lesbians and bisexual and transgender people. That’s when this place becomes a religious institution or a house of worship and not just a social club. If it were just a social club, I wouldn’t want to be here.
My daughter graduated from high school the other day. They had a wonderful graduation ceremony, held at Fountain Street Church in downtown Grand Rapids. The commencement speaker was a guy from Africa, about 30 years old, who when he was 13 was forced into the military; he was forced to kill or be killed. Thankfully he escaped from that and fled to the United States and now works for the United Nations. He told the students that they could overcome any obstacle, if he could escape from that situation. He concluded his remarks by reading the poem “Invictus,” by William Ernest Henley. The poem concludes with these two lines. “I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.” Each one of us, regardless of the faith tradition we come from, is responsible for our own actions, for doing justice and loving kindness and acting compassionately, because each and every one of us is the master of our fate, each and every one of us is the captain of our soul.
When I was in seminary a few years ago, I learned a new idea, well I learned several new ideas, but one in particular. It was the doctrine I’ll call “You don’t get the credit; you just get the blame.” It goes something like this: If you do something right, then that’s not really you doing that, that’s God working through you or the Spirit working through you or Jesus working through you or something; it’s not you. But, if you do something wrong, then that’s all you, buddy, that’s your fault. That didn’t make any sense to me. I can understand saying, “If you do something right, then that’s not really you, that’s God or the Spirit working through you.” I’ve had times, believe it or not, when I’ve done things, like write a sermon and I’d get to the end of it and read through it and think: my goodness, I didn’t have any idea that this was what this was going to end up as; it’s better than I could have imagined. It felt like it wasn’t me doing that, it was the Spirit or God, or the Source or whatever you want to call it, working through me. So I can go along with that. But why doesn’t it go the other way? If you do something wrong, why not say: that’s not your fault, that was the devil or the evil spirits or whatever working through you. But that’s not how the doctrine of “You get all the blame, but none of the credit” works. I just don’t think that’s right.
Also, when I first started going to Western Theological Seminary, apparently my reputation preceded me, because one of the professors that I met immediately called me the “high priest of heresy.” I think he meant it jokingly, but I thought, “I’m not that heretical, am I?” I’m in the mainstream of at least liberal theology. Come to think of it, that was probably why I was called the “high priest of heresy.” I wasn’t orthodox enough. Now “orthodoxy,” as you probably know, means “right belief,” believing the things the church or the religious tradition says to believe. “Orthopraxy” means “right action.” I think it means doing justice and loving kindness and acting compassionately.
I’m reading a book, “God Is Not One.” It’s by Stephen Prothero, who is a religion professor at Boston University. The basic premise of his book is that everybody says, “God is one” and “we’re all one big happy family” and all that, but how can that be if the major religions of the world are so different? How can you reconcile Buddhism, that doesn’t believe in a god and Hinduism that believes in many gods? In that book, he talks about orthodoxy and orthopraxy, but what he is talking about is “right belief,” the doctrine and dogma of religions and about the rituals and routines of religion, like lighting a candle during the service. He doesn’t talk much at all about what I consider orthopraxy, which is doing justice, loving kindness, acting compassionately. I think religion without justice is impotent.
Jesus goes to the temple, sits down and begins teaching, while the people gather around him. Up walk several men and they bring a woman with them. They tell Jesus that this woman has committed adultery. They caught her in the act of adultery. They say to Jesus. “What should we do? Because Moses says she should be stoned to death. What say you, Jesus?” They did this, according to the story in the Bible, to test him, to see if he would say, “Yes, Moses was correct, stone her.” But he writes on the ground, scribbling in the dirt, basically ignoring them. But they keep pestering him saying, “What should we do?” He looks up and says, “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.” Then he goes back to writing in the dirt. He looks up again and they’ve all dispersed; all but the woman. He says to her, “What happened to them?” She says, “They left.” Jesus says, “Well they did not condemn you, neither do I; go and sin no more.”
Jesus, I think many Christians would assume, was the first Christian. Let’s go with that, probably all of us here know he was Jewish, but for this story let’s say Jesus was the first Christian. It seems to me that Jesus was a Christian who didn’t just believe things … he was not just a noun “Christian,” he was a verb “Christian.” He took action. He saved the life of this adulterous woman. He shamed the men who brought her to him.
Many of us probably know the story of Moses from the Hebrew scriptures or from Charlton Heston’s portrayal of him in the movie, “The Ten Commandments.” One of the stories of Moses is that he led the Jews out of Egypt. He went to Pharoah and said, “Let my people go!” And Pharoah eventually said, “Okay.” And so they went. Assuming that story is true, Moses was a Jew who believed things, but he also did things. He was a noun “Jew,” but he was also a verb “Jew.” He took action. He led the Jewish people out of slavery to freedom.
The Dalai Lama has written many books. I think my favorite book that the Dalai Lama has written is “The Four Noble Truths.” If you haven’t read that book and you get the chance, I would highly recommend it. It explains, I think very well, suffering, and talks about how it can be alleviated from others and ourselves by acting compassionately toward others and toward ourselves. The Dalai Lama is a Buddhist. He believes things, but he also does things. He’s not just a noun “Buddhist,” he’s a verb “Buddhist.” He takes action. He writes a book that some of us find helpful.
Varion Fry lived in France. He was a frail man, an intellectual, not religious. He was apparently a humanist. You might not expect that Varian Fry would have stood up to the Gestapo, but he did. He helped 1500 people escape from Nazi occupied France in 1940 and ‘41. Varian Fry was a humanist who did things, he didn’t just believe things (or not believe things). He was a noun “humanist,” but he was also a verb “humanist.” He took action. He helped 1500 people escape from Nazi occupied France.
At this point in the sermon, I was going to quote the beginning of the Hippocratic Oath, the oath that doctors take, that says, “First do no harm.” But I looked it up online and it’s a common misconception that the Hippocratic Oath begins, “First do no harm.” That’s not true. In spite of that, I would still say that religious people who want to be verb religious people and not just noun religious people, should first do no harm.
The first church I pastored was a small church in a small town. The first summer I was there, the only summer I was there, I put together a little flier, not unlike the flier we have on our back table. It was about what I saw that church as or what I wanted that church to be, I think. I knocked on a hundred doors in that little town, and handed out fliers to a hundred people, or stuck fliers between the door handle and the doorframe. A week or two later, no one had come to church as a result. Then one Sunday, I saw a new person sitting in church. She was about five rows back. So, about ten minutes into the service, during our passing of the peace, I walked up to her and I said, “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.” She said, “No, this is the first time I’ve come here.” I said, “Oh, great.” She said, “I came because of the flier you left at my door.” I said, “Oh, wonderful,” She said, “But I won’t be back.” What? She said, “I don’t feel welcome here.” How could that be? She walked maybe 5 steps into the building, up some stairs and then ten more steps into the sanctuary and sat down. She was there for 10 minutes. Yet she didn’t feel welcome. Now I know why she didn’t feel welcome. She wasn’t one of the family or friends of the powers that be. They made her feel unwelcome. Immediately. I look back on that and I think: That wasn’t really a church; that was a social club. That was a place that just cared about the people inside the four walls. They didn’t care about opening the doors of the church and welcoming new people in. But I opened the doors and welcomed new people in (or at least one new person in) and they didn’t like that at all, because that’s not who they were. Anytime a church only cares about the people inside the four walls, and doesn’t care about welcoming people in or helping people who don’t go there, it isn’t a church, it’s a social club.
If Interfaith Congregation is only about going to Denny’s after the service, or having a potluck on Wednesday night, or going bowling or playing miniature golf, then we wouldn’t be a church or a house of worship, we’d be a social club. We become a church or a religious institution or a house of worship when we feed the poor on Saturday morning, when a couple of us walk for peace in downtown Holland on Thursday afternoon, when some of us go to the city council and ask the council to pass an anti-discrimination ordinance in Holland to protect gays and lesbians and bisexual and transgender people. That’s when this place becomes a religious institution or a house of worship and not just a social club. If it were just a social club, I wouldn’t want to be here.
My daughter graduated from high school the other day. They had a wonderful graduation ceremony, held at Fountain Street Church in downtown Grand Rapids. The commencement speaker was a guy from Africa, about 30 years old, who when he was 13 was forced into the military; he was forced to kill or be killed. Thankfully he escaped from that and fled to the United States and now works for the United Nations. He told the students that they could overcome any obstacle, if he could escape from that situation. He concluded his remarks by reading the poem “Invictus,” by William Ernest Henley. The poem concludes with these two lines. “I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul.” Each one of us, regardless of the faith tradition we come from, is responsible for our own actions, for doing justice and loving kindness and acting compassionately, because each and every one of us is the master of our fate, each and every one of us is the captain of our soul.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
The Forgiveness Of Conan
Many years ago, I was a feature reporter for a local TV news program. One day I was doing a story about a guy who was repairing the ceiling of a big Catholic church. We’ll call him John Smith. John Smith was on this rickety old platform, several stories up, repairing the ceiling. I tell you that story to tell you this story. A couple weeks ago I was at the Holland Tulip Time Festival, eating dinner that I bought at one of the vendors; something healthy, like a big old bratwurst sandwich with all the trimmings. A guy comes up to me and says, “Are you Bill Freeman?” Now, I hesitated to answer that, because sometimes I take controversial stands, preach about controversial topics, so I took a quick glance at his hands. He wasn’t carrying a gun or a knife, so I slowly said, “Yes.” He said, “Well I’m John Smith. You did a story about me years ago, repairing the ceiling of a Catholic church.” He said, “You began the story by saying ‘John Smith gets high at work.’” I said, “I’m sorry.” He said, “No, that was fine; I loved it!” Still, I felt like I should seek forgiveness from the god of bad puns.
What does it mean to forgive? How often do we forgive? How often don’t we forgive? When do we or don’t we forgive? I want to talk with you about forgiveness. Human to human forgiveness; not divine forgiveness of humans (for being – what? – human?). I want to talk with you about forgiveness, of others and of ourselves.
On Friday mornings some of you may know I co-host a radio show with Fred Wooden from Fountain Street Church in Grand Rapids. The program is called, “Faith and Reason.” It’s on from 10 till Noon. This past Friday, Fred was all upset. He was angry because Grand Rapids city workers had torn up the street in front of his house to work on some water pipes. Since the water to his house was shutoff, he couldn’t take a shower before he came to the radio station, which would be fine, but he had a funeral to do at 1 o’clock. So he had to leave the radio show early, to go home and take a shower before the funeral, and he was angry about that. He wasn’t sure who to be angry at. He thought the city workers, who put out signs the day before, saying, “No Parking,” could have put notes on people’s doors telling them there water would be shutoff. But he wasn’t sure who to be angry at. He was just angry.
I think the first step toward not forgiving is anger. I think unforgiveness takes three steps: anger and then hatred and then unforgiveness.
Tony Campolo is an evangelical Christian, a preacher, a retired sociology professor at Eastern University in Philadelphia. He spoke this past week in Holland at the Summit on Racism at Hope College. He told of a time years ago when he got two groups together, Buddhists and Christians. He divided them up into theologians and mystics. He put the Buddhist and Christian theologians in one group and the Buddhist and Christian mystics in another group, for four days. At the end of that time, the Christian and Buddhist theologians were arguing with each other, as they had the whole time they were together. “We believe this.” “You believe that! How could you believe that!?” They hated each other. The mystics, who prayed and meditated together for four days, loved each other. They hated to see each other go. Perhaps the moral of the story is that when two or more faith traditions get together, they shouldn’t talk about theology, they should just pray and meditate.
I think the Christian and Buddhist theological types went through the three stages of unforgiveness. There seemed to be some anger between the two groups; perhaps also some hatred; and finally, maybe they even reached the point of unforgiveness. That’s not a good thing. Conan O’Brian seems to know this.
Conan O’Brian was promoted to host The Tonight Show. Jay Leno was promoted to his own prime time program. But the ratings for The Jay Leno Show weren’t very good and the ratings for The Tonight Show with Conan O’Brian weren’t very good, so NBC came up with a compromise. They would pull Jay Leno off the prime time schedule and put him at 11:35 and they would put Conan O’Brian at 12:05. But Conan didn’t want to do The Tonight Show…tomorrow, so he left NBC and he was forbidden from talking about leaving until a couple of weeks ago when he was on 60 Minutes. He talked about his feelings towards Jay Leno and NBC. Surprisingly he said, “You’re going to think this is crazy, but I wish them well.” In other words he, in some form or fashion, forgave the folks at NBC. Now maybe the fact that he walked away with 32 million dollars helped his forgiveness. There is that possibility. But I think he also knew about the importance of forgiveness, something that religious leaders have preached about for millennia.
Peter asked Jesus, “Lord, how many times must we forgive? Seven times?” Jesus said, “Seventy-seven times,” or depending on the translation, “Seventy times seven,” which, if my math is correct, is 490 times. Now who can blame Peter for asking the question of Jesus? You’ve got Jesus there. Perhaps you have somebody you have a hard time forgiving. So why not ask Jesus how many times you have to forgive this person? Perhaps he was thinking that Jesus would say, “Well, I said, ‘Turn the other cheek,’ but you only do that once, so you only have to forgive one time.” So maybe Peter thought he was being generous by suggesting seven times. Jesus instead said 490 times. Always and forever essentially, we must forgive. Maybe forgiving somebody is good for us.
The Dalai Lama says, “One’s enemy is the best teacher.” I think that’s true. Now, granted, I could have used fewer teachers over the years, but maybe the Dalai Lama has a point. At the very least, our enemy, if we do it right, will teach us to forgive, if we follow the precepts of Jesus, the Dalai Lama, and others.
Ram Dass, who used to be known as Richard Alpert, was a professor at Harvard, but then he got into Buddhism and Hinduism and became Ram Dass. Many years ago he wrote a book, “Be Here Now.” A very simple title, a very easy to understand point. How can you “be” anyplace other than right here, right now? And yet, when we refuse to forgive, we’re living in some previous time. When we’re not forgiving somebody, we’re living in the past, living in anger. The only way to “be here now” is to forgive back then.
Erich Segal wrote a very popular book a few years ago entitled, “Love Story.” The tag line from “Love Story,” the movie and the book, was, “Love means never having to say you’re sorry.” I don’t think that’s true. I think love means always having to say you’re sorry. At least, that’s what I have to do in my marriage. “Sorry, honey, I forgot to mow the lawn.” “Sorry, honey, I ate the rest of the chocolate ice cream.” I think love means always having to say you’re sorry, whenever you do something wrong and hope to be forgiven.
I remember two things from my tenth grade art class. One, our art teacher was rather pretty. Two, she had a painting on the wall of two people sinking in quicksand. You could see that there were some vines or something they could grab onto. Instead, they were each clutching clubs, and they were beating each other as they were sinking in the quicksand. How angry must we be with somebody, how much hatred must we have for somebody, how much unforgiveness must be in our heart, not to be able to save ourself at the very least? And to keep beating your opponent to death, literally, as he continues to beat you to death?
One of my favorite actors of all time is James Garner. I loved him when I was a kid and saw him in “Maverick,” I loved him as a young person, when he was in “The Rockford Files.” I loved him in, “The Americanization of Emily,” “Victor Victoria” and others. Many years ago James Garner was interviewed (in Playboy magazine, oh my). He was asked, since he was born in Norman, Oklahoma, whether he was prejudiced against people of color. He said, “No,” which you’d expect him to say. But he also said, “I can’t hate a group of people for any reason. But I can hate individuals real well.” I think I’m the same way.
I don’t want to burst anybody’s bubble if they think the chaplain of Interfaith Congregation should be perfectly pious and love everybody all the time. Sometimes, I admit, I don’t. I’m certainly better than I was years ago before I went into the ministry, but I haven’t yet reached perfection. (And I probably never will.) Sometimes the person I have the hardest time forgiving is myself.
Yesterday my daughter danced her last dance recital. She’s been dancing since she was three years old, for fourteen years. Yesterday watching her up onstage, doing a ballet, tears came to my eyes, because I pictured her at the age of three, when the teacher was off to the side, telling her what steps to take and what moves to make. Now here she was, fourteen years later, grace, beauty and, dare I say it as an “impartial” dad, perfection: Poetry in motion.
I got to thinking about her journey from three to seventeen and how back then she made all kinds of mistakes. But everybody laughed at them, just like we did yesterday when the three year olds were dancing, and it was no big deal. How similar is that to our own spiritual lives, when years ago we made mistakes, we committed what the religious call sins? Sin is just a word for missing the mark. Yet over the years we’ve stopped, hopefully, making those same mistakes. (Maybe we make new mistakes, but we’ve stopped making those same old mistakes.) Just like my daughter wouldn’t hold it against herself, and I certainly wouldn’t hold it against her -how she danced at the age of three, compared to how she danced at the age of seventeen - I don’t think we should hold it against ourselves, the way we were years ago in our spiritual life, compared to how we are now. We still aren't perfect, but hopefully we're better than we were.
The other day I was working on my sermon at JPs coffee shop. Somebody walked into JPs who I thought in the past had treated me unfairly. In a split second, I took those three steps: from anger to hatred to unforgiveness. I sat there thinking: What can I say or do to this person so that I’ll feel superior to him? Should I make some unkind remark? Should I make some nasty hand gesture? But then it dawned on me: I’M WRITING A SERMON ABOUT FORGIVENESS! So as he walked by, I said, “Hello.” Of course, an hour or two later I thought of all kinds of nicer things I could have also said, but maybe the first step on the road to forgiveness is sometimes simply saying, “Hello.”
What does it mean to forgive? How often do we forgive? How often don’t we forgive? When do we or don’t we forgive? I want to talk with you about forgiveness. Human to human forgiveness; not divine forgiveness of humans (for being – what? – human?). I want to talk with you about forgiveness, of others and of ourselves.
On Friday mornings some of you may know I co-host a radio show with Fred Wooden from Fountain Street Church in Grand Rapids. The program is called, “Faith and Reason.” It’s on from 10 till Noon. This past Friday, Fred was all upset. He was angry because Grand Rapids city workers had torn up the street in front of his house to work on some water pipes. Since the water to his house was shutoff, he couldn’t take a shower before he came to the radio station, which would be fine, but he had a funeral to do at 1 o’clock. So he had to leave the radio show early, to go home and take a shower before the funeral, and he was angry about that. He wasn’t sure who to be angry at. He thought the city workers, who put out signs the day before, saying, “No Parking,” could have put notes on people’s doors telling them there water would be shutoff. But he wasn’t sure who to be angry at. He was just angry.
I think the first step toward not forgiving is anger. I think unforgiveness takes three steps: anger and then hatred and then unforgiveness.
Tony Campolo is an evangelical Christian, a preacher, a retired sociology professor at Eastern University in Philadelphia. He spoke this past week in Holland at the Summit on Racism at Hope College. He told of a time years ago when he got two groups together, Buddhists and Christians. He divided them up into theologians and mystics. He put the Buddhist and Christian theologians in one group and the Buddhist and Christian mystics in another group, for four days. At the end of that time, the Christian and Buddhist theologians were arguing with each other, as they had the whole time they were together. “We believe this.” “You believe that! How could you believe that!?” They hated each other. The mystics, who prayed and meditated together for four days, loved each other. They hated to see each other go. Perhaps the moral of the story is that when two or more faith traditions get together, they shouldn’t talk about theology, they should just pray and meditate.
I think the Christian and Buddhist theological types went through the three stages of unforgiveness. There seemed to be some anger between the two groups; perhaps also some hatred; and finally, maybe they even reached the point of unforgiveness. That’s not a good thing. Conan O’Brian seems to know this.
Conan O’Brian was promoted to host The Tonight Show. Jay Leno was promoted to his own prime time program. But the ratings for The Jay Leno Show weren’t very good and the ratings for The Tonight Show with Conan O’Brian weren’t very good, so NBC came up with a compromise. They would pull Jay Leno off the prime time schedule and put him at 11:35 and they would put Conan O’Brian at 12:05. But Conan didn’t want to do The Tonight Show…tomorrow, so he left NBC and he was forbidden from talking about leaving until a couple of weeks ago when he was on 60 Minutes. He talked about his feelings towards Jay Leno and NBC. Surprisingly he said, “You’re going to think this is crazy, but I wish them well.” In other words he, in some form or fashion, forgave the folks at NBC. Now maybe the fact that he walked away with 32 million dollars helped his forgiveness. There is that possibility. But I think he also knew about the importance of forgiveness, something that religious leaders have preached about for millennia.
Peter asked Jesus, “Lord, how many times must we forgive? Seven times?” Jesus said, “Seventy-seven times,” or depending on the translation, “Seventy times seven,” which, if my math is correct, is 490 times. Now who can blame Peter for asking the question of Jesus? You’ve got Jesus there. Perhaps you have somebody you have a hard time forgiving. So why not ask Jesus how many times you have to forgive this person? Perhaps he was thinking that Jesus would say, “Well, I said, ‘Turn the other cheek,’ but you only do that once, so you only have to forgive one time.” So maybe Peter thought he was being generous by suggesting seven times. Jesus instead said 490 times. Always and forever essentially, we must forgive. Maybe forgiving somebody is good for us.
The Dalai Lama says, “One’s enemy is the best teacher.” I think that’s true. Now, granted, I could have used fewer teachers over the years, but maybe the Dalai Lama has a point. At the very least, our enemy, if we do it right, will teach us to forgive, if we follow the precepts of Jesus, the Dalai Lama, and others.
Ram Dass, who used to be known as Richard Alpert, was a professor at Harvard, but then he got into Buddhism and Hinduism and became Ram Dass. Many years ago he wrote a book, “Be Here Now.” A very simple title, a very easy to understand point. How can you “be” anyplace other than right here, right now? And yet, when we refuse to forgive, we’re living in some previous time. When we’re not forgiving somebody, we’re living in the past, living in anger. The only way to “be here now” is to forgive back then.
Erich Segal wrote a very popular book a few years ago entitled, “Love Story.” The tag line from “Love Story,” the movie and the book, was, “Love means never having to say you’re sorry.” I don’t think that’s true. I think love means always having to say you’re sorry. At least, that’s what I have to do in my marriage. “Sorry, honey, I forgot to mow the lawn.” “Sorry, honey, I ate the rest of the chocolate ice cream.” I think love means always having to say you’re sorry, whenever you do something wrong and hope to be forgiven.
I remember two things from my tenth grade art class. One, our art teacher was rather pretty. Two, she had a painting on the wall of two people sinking in quicksand. You could see that there were some vines or something they could grab onto. Instead, they were each clutching clubs, and they were beating each other as they were sinking in the quicksand. How angry must we be with somebody, how much hatred must we have for somebody, how much unforgiveness must be in our heart, not to be able to save ourself at the very least? And to keep beating your opponent to death, literally, as he continues to beat you to death?
One of my favorite actors of all time is James Garner. I loved him when I was a kid and saw him in “Maverick,” I loved him as a young person, when he was in “The Rockford Files.” I loved him in, “The Americanization of Emily,” “Victor Victoria” and others. Many years ago James Garner was interviewed (in Playboy magazine, oh my). He was asked, since he was born in Norman, Oklahoma, whether he was prejudiced against people of color. He said, “No,” which you’d expect him to say. But he also said, “I can’t hate a group of people for any reason. But I can hate individuals real well.” I think I’m the same way.
I don’t want to burst anybody’s bubble if they think the chaplain of Interfaith Congregation should be perfectly pious and love everybody all the time. Sometimes, I admit, I don’t. I’m certainly better than I was years ago before I went into the ministry, but I haven’t yet reached perfection. (And I probably never will.) Sometimes the person I have the hardest time forgiving is myself.
Yesterday my daughter danced her last dance recital. She’s been dancing since she was three years old, for fourteen years. Yesterday watching her up onstage, doing a ballet, tears came to my eyes, because I pictured her at the age of three, when the teacher was off to the side, telling her what steps to take and what moves to make. Now here she was, fourteen years later, grace, beauty and, dare I say it as an “impartial” dad, perfection: Poetry in motion.
I got to thinking about her journey from three to seventeen and how back then she made all kinds of mistakes. But everybody laughed at them, just like we did yesterday when the three year olds were dancing, and it was no big deal. How similar is that to our own spiritual lives, when years ago we made mistakes, we committed what the religious call sins? Sin is just a word for missing the mark. Yet over the years we’ve stopped, hopefully, making those same mistakes. (Maybe we make new mistakes, but we’ve stopped making those same old mistakes.) Just like my daughter wouldn’t hold it against herself, and I certainly wouldn’t hold it against her -how she danced at the age of three, compared to how she danced at the age of seventeen - I don’t think we should hold it against ourselves, the way we were years ago in our spiritual life, compared to how we are now. We still aren't perfect, but hopefully we're better than we were.
The other day I was working on my sermon at JPs coffee shop. Somebody walked into JPs who I thought in the past had treated me unfairly. In a split second, I took those three steps: from anger to hatred to unforgiveness. I sat there thinking: What can I say or do to this person so that I’ll feel superior to him? Should I make some unkind remark? Should I make some nasty hand gesture? But then it dawned on me: I’M WRITING A SERMON ABOUT FORGIVENESS! So as he walked by, I said, “Hello.” Of course, an hour or two later I thought of all kinds of nicer things I could have also said, but maybe the first step on the road to forgiveness is sometimes simply saying, “Hello.”
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Jesus And Other Noisy Leftists
Some of you may know that a few days ago I went before the Holland City Council. I asked the council to pass an ordinance barring discrimination of people because of sexual orientation or gender identity. And I was shocked by a couple of things that happened that night.
First I was shocked that the Holland City Council didn’t laugh me out of the room. Then I was shocked to walk out of the chambers and have a TV reporter, a radio reporter and two newspaper reporters all wanting to talk to me. Perhaps I was most shocked when several of our parishioners who were there that night - who heard me apologize to the council for not knowing exactly how to get an ordinance passed, because I’m a pastor not a politician – and those members of our congregation later were laughing at me for saying that. They said something along the lines of: You might be a pastor, but you’re also a politician. I was shocked, shocked.
Back in 2004 on election night I was at the Wealthy Street Theater in Grand Rapids, along with other Democrats, watching the election returns. I was there till about 2 in the morning and was devastated by the results. So I went home to my apartment, devastated. I got my mail and I opened up a letter. It was from the AARP congratulating me for being eligible to becoming a member of their organization. So it was a double devastation for me: not only did my candidate lose, but I was now old enough to join the AARP.
Okay, maybe I am a politician, but I would rather refer to myself more as a political animal. I love politics. I love watching Keith Olbermann and Chris Matthews. I love watching President Obama give a speech. I love the fact that he graduated from Harvard Law School, that he taught constitutional law and that he’s the one who gets to nominate the next Supreme Court justice. So I love politics. I talk about politics on the radio show I do with Fred Wooden from Fountain Street Church. (By the way, the program is called “Faith and Reason” and it’s on Friday mornings from 10 till Noon on 1680-AM, 95.3-FM and online at publicrealityradio.org – a little plug!) Although, rather than say we talk about politics, I prefer to say we talk about justice. Some people might have seen politics in what happened a few weeks ago.
As you may know, Erik Prince was invited to speak at the Holland Tulip Time Festival luncheon. Many people were upset about that, because Erik Prince founded Blackwater, a mercenary army, accused of killing innocent men, women and children in Iraq. So I invited Jeremy Scahill, author of the book “Blackwater," to come to Holland to speak on the same day as Erik Prince. Jeremy accepted, didn’t charge a speaking fee and even paid for his own plane ticket – bless his heart.
In his speech, Erik Prince said he has three main enemies: al-Qaida, the Taliban and noisy leftists. Now I realize what Erik Prince was doing. He was trying to make a joke. Ha, ha, ha – it’s not just al-Qaida and the Taliban that are my enemies, it’s also those noisy leftists – ha, ha, ha! I imagine that Erik Prince would count Jeremy Scahill as one of those noisy leftists and perhaps even me. I’m not sure, though, if I’m a noisy leftist. On some issues, I’m a libertarian. On some issues, I’m a conservative. And on some issues, I’m a Republican.
When it comes to the issue of abortion, I’m a libertarian – I don’t think the government should be involved in a woman’s decision. When it comes to the issue of the environment, I’m a conservative – I want to conserve our streams and rivers and lakes and oceans and earth and air. When it comes to the issue of the budget, I’m a Republican – I believe the government should live within its means, and not just when a Democrat is in the White House, but also when a Republican is in the White House. So I guess on that issue I’m more Republican than some Republicans. But I suppose on most issues I am a noisy leftist. But I think I’m in pretty good company.
Jesus goes up to a mountain, sits down and begins to talk to his disciples and the thousands of people who gathered around. Jesus says, "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.” Jesus says, “You have heard that it was said, "An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.' But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer.” Jesus says, "You have heard that it was said, "You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I say to you, Love your enemies.”
Blessed are the peacemakers? Do not resist an evildoer? Love your enemies? My goodness. Jesus sounds like a noisy leftist. I bet he’d be on Erik Prince’s enemies list. So would Martin Luther King, Jr.
Dr. King says, “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” My goodness. Dr. King sounds like a noisy leftist. I bet he’d be on Erik Prince’s enemies list. So would Gandhi.
Gandhi says, “An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.” My goodness. Gandhi sounds like a noisy leftist. I bet he’d be on Erik Prince’s enemies list.
Is it such a bad thing to be called a noisy leftist, to be on Erik Prince’s enemies list? Or is it a badge of honor? I wonder how many people in Holland would be considered noisy leftists. I wonder how many people in Holland would be on Erik Prince’s enemies list.
The other day I was channel surfing and came across a program on the History Channel. It was called The History of the Earth. The program said that for hundreds of millions of years, the earth has been shifting. Tectonic plates under the earth move. The program said that at one time all the continents of the earth were one. You can sort of see that when you look at how the continent of South America fits into the continent of Africa. The program said that all continents were like that, all continents fit together as one, hundreds of millions of years ago, but because of the shifting of the tectonic plates the continents separated. They say the continents shift like that whenever there is an earthquake or a volcano erupts. So when a volcano erupts in Iceland or an earthquake hits in Haiti, that’s not God expressing anger, that’s the earth shifting.
I got to thinking: Holland is shifting; Holland is becoming more progressive. Now you wouldn’t have known that a couple weeks ago, when the Board of Trustees at Hope College refused to rescind their rules condemning homosexuality. That would not be an example of Holland shifting. But there are several other examples of Holland shifting, of Holland becoming more progressive.
In 2008, Barack Obama won Holland by 200 votes. That’s the first time a Democratic presidential candidate won in Holland since 1964, when President Lyndon Johnson, who took office after the assassination of President Kennedy, won here, probably getting some sympathy votes. So, in 2008, for the first time in 44 years, a Democratic presidential candidate won in Holland. Holland is shifting. Holland is becoming more progressive.
I have an anecdotal example of that from a few months ago. One day I was grocery shopping at Meijer, just down the street. I got to the checkout aisle and saw the usual assortment of supermarket tabloids. One of the tabloids said something like: President Obama is gay. I was laughing. And, the guy in front of me was laughing, too. He said, “Yeah, who would have guessed it? Obama is gay.” I think that 10 or 20 years ago, the guy in front of me wouldn’t have been laughing, he would’ve been looking stern and saying, “Oh, you think homosexuality is funny, do you?” But in 2010, the guy in front of me was laughing. Holland is shifting. Holland is becoming more progressive.
A couple months ago, several of us visited a Buddhist temple, one of two Buddhist temples in the Holland area. Who would have thought that there would be two Buddhist temples in the Holland area? I hear tell that there’s even an Interfaith Congregation that meets in a theater in the Holland area. Holland is shifting. Holland is becoming more progressive.
I mentioned Jeremy Scahill. When he came to town, as you may know, we reserved a theater here at the Holland 7 that seats 175 people. He filled that theater and an overflow theater, because 322 people came here to hear Jeremy Scahill. Now some of those folks came from Chicago and Ann Arbor and Traverse City, but I think most of those people came from Holland and the Holland area. Holland is shifting. Holland is becoming more progressive.
A survey was released a couple months ago that said Holland is the second happiest city in the country. Now I know some people found that amusing, but I think it’s great. And I think maybe one of the reasons people are happy in Holland is because Holland is shifting, Holland is becoming more progressive.
Now, will the city council of Holland pass an ordinance banning discrimination of people because of sexual orientation or gender identity in housing, employment and education? I don’t know. Time will tell. I’ve been asked by a group called “Holland Is Ready” to meet with them and strategize about how to get such an ordinance passed. And, of course, I’ll be happy to do that. The group “Holland Is Ready” is another indication that Holland is shifting, Holland is becoming more progressive.
My apologies if this Talk has sounded pretty political. But I felt I should talk about Erik Prince’s enemies list and calling people like me, and maybe some of you, noisy leftists. Whether you consider yourself a noisy leftist or a mumbling moderate or a quiet conservative, that’s fine with me. I’ll love you no matter what. (And I hope the reverse is true.)
I was reading a book the other day and I came across a quote by a Spanish philosopher, Ibn Arabi. Ibn Arabi says, “Love alone is my religion.” I like that. “Love alone is my religion.” Let us not worship MSNBC or the Fox News Channel, let us make love alone our religion. Let us not worship the Democratic Party or the Republican Party, let us make love alone our religion. Let us not worship President Obama or Rush Limbaugh, let us make love alone our religion. If we do that, if we make love alone our religion, then Holland and Michigan and America and the World will all be the better for it.
First I was shocked that the Holland City Council didn’t laugh me out of the room. Then I was shocked to walk out of the chambers and have a TV reporter, a radio reporter and two newspaper reporters all wanting to talk to me. Perhaps I was most shocked when several of our parishioners who were there that night - who heard me apologize to the council for not knowing exactly how to get an ordinance passed, because I’m a pastor not a politician – and those members of our congregation later were laughing at me for saying that. They said something along the lines of: You might be a pastor, but you’re also a politician. I was shocked, shocked.
Back in 2004 on election night I was at the Wealthy Street Theater in Grand Rapids, along with other Democrats, watching the election returns. I was there till about 2 in the morning and was devastated by the results. So I went home to my apartment, devastated. I got my mail and I opened up a letter. It was from the AARP congratulating me for being eligible to becoming a member of their organization. So it was a double devastation for me: not only did my candidate lose, but I was now old enough to join the AARP.
Okay, maybe I am a politician, but I would rather refer to myself more as a political animal. I love politics. I love watching Keith Olbermann and Chris Matthews. I love watching President Obama give a speech. I love the fact that he graduated from Harvard Law School, that he taught constitutional law and that he’s the one who gets to nominate the next Supreme Court justice. So I love politics. I talk about politics on the radio show I do with Fred Wooden from Fountain Street Church. (By the way, the program is called “Faith and Reason” and it’s on Friday mornings from 10 till Noon on 1680-AM, 95.3-FM and online at publicrealityradio.org – a little plug!) Although, rather than say we talk about politics, I prefer to say we talk about justice. Some people might have seen politics in what happened a few weeks ago.
As you may know, Erik Prince was invited to speak at the Holland Tulip Time Festival luncheon. Many people were upset about that, because Erik Prince founded Blackwater, a mercenary army, accused of killing innocent men, women and children in Iraq. So I invited Jeremy Scahill, author of the book “Blackwater," to come to Holland to speak on the same day as Erik Prince. Jeremy accepted, didn’t charge a speaking fee and even paid for his own plane ticket – bless his heart.
In his speech, Erik Prince said he has three main enemies: al-Qaida, the Taliban and noisy leftists. Now I realize what Erik Prince was doing. He was trying to make a joke. Ha, ha, ha – it’s not just al-Qaida and the Taliban that are my enemies, it’s also those noisy leftists – ha, ha, ha! I imagine that Erik Prince would count Jeremy Scahill as one of those noisy leftists and perhaps even me. I’m not sure, though, if I’m a noisy leftist. On some issues, I’m a libertarian. On some issues, I’m a conservative. And on some issues, I’m a Republican.
When it comes to the issue of abortion, I’m a libertarian – I don’t think the government should be involved in a woman’s decision. When it comes to the issue of the environment, I’m a conservative – I want to conserve our streams and rivers and lakes and oceans and earth and air. When it comes to the issue of the budget, I’m a Republican – I believe the government should live within its means, and not just when a Democrat is in the White House, but also when a Republican is in the White House. So I guess on that issue I’m more Republican than some Republicans. But I suppose on most issues I am a noisy leftist. But I think I’m in pretty good company.
Jesus goes up to a mountain, sits down and begins to talk to his disciples and the thousands of people who gathered around. Jesus says, "Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.” Jesus says, “You have heard that it was said, "An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.' But I say to you, Do not resist an evildoer.” Jesus says, "You have heard that it was said, "You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I say to you, Love your enemies.”
Blessed are the peacemakers? Do not resist an evildoer? Love your enemies? My goodness. Jesus sounds like a noisy leftist. I bet he’d be on Erik Prince’s enemies list. So would Martin Luther King, Jr.
Dr. King says, “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” My goodness. Dr. King sounds like a noisy leftist. I bet he’d be on Erik Prince’s enemies list. So would Gandhi.
Gandhi says, “An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind.” My goodness. Gandhi sounds like a noisy leftist. I bet he’d be on Erik Prince’s enemies list.
Is it such a bad thing to be called a noisy leftist, to be on Erik Prince’s enemies list? Or is it a badge of honor? I wonder how many people in Holland would be considered noisy leftists. I wonder how many people in Holland would be on Erik Prince’s enemies list.
The other day I was channel surfing and came across a program on the History Channel. It was called The History of the Earth. The program said that for hundreds of millions of years, the earth has been shifting. Tectonic plates under the earth move. The program said that at one time all the continents of the earth were one. You can sort of see that when you look at how the continent of South America fits into the continent of Africa. The program said that all continents were like that, all continents fit together as one, hundreds of millions of years ago, but because of the shifting of the tectonic plates the continents separated. They say the continents shift like that whenever there is an earthquake or a volcano erupts. So when a volcano erupts in Iceland or an earthquake hits in Haiti, that’s not God expressing anger, that’s the earth shifting.
I got to thinking: Holland is shifting; Holland is becoming more progressive. Now you wouldn’t have known that a couple weeks ago, when the Board of Trustees at Hope College refused to rescind their rules condemning homosexuality. That would not be an example of Holland shifting. But there are several other examples of Holland shifting, of Holland becoming more progressive.
In 2008, Barack Obama won Holland by 200 votes. That’s the first time a Democratic presidential candidate won in Holland since 1964, when President Lyndon Johnson, who took office after the assassination of President Kennedy, won here, probably getting some sympathy votes. So, in 2008, for the first time in 44 years, a Democratic presidential candidate won in Holland. Holland is shifting. Holland is becoming more progressive.
I have an anecdotal example of that from a few months ago. One day I was grocery shopping at Meijer, just down the street. I got to the checkout aisle and saw the usual assortment of supermarket tabloids. One of the tabloids said something like: President Obama is gay. I was laughing. And, the guy in front of me was laughing, too. He said, “Yeah, who would have guessed it? Obama is gay.” I think that 10 or 20 years ago, the guy in front of me wouldn’t have been laughing, he would’ve been looking stern and saying, “Oh, you think homosexuality is funny, do you?” But in 2010, the guy in front of me was laughing. Holland is shifting. Holland is becoming more progressive.
A couple months ago, several of us visited a Buddhist temple, one of two Buddhist temples in the Holland area. Who would have thought that there would be two Buddhist temples in the Holland area? I hear tell that there’s even an Interfaith Congregation that meets in a theater in the Holland area. Holland is shifting. Holland is becoming more progressive.
I mentioned Jeremy Scahill. When he came to town, as you may know, we reserved a theater here at the Holland 7 that seats 175 people. He filled that theater and an overflow theater, because 322 people came here to hear Jeremy Scahill. Now some of those folks came from Chicago and Ann Arbor and Traverse City, but I think most of those people came from Holland and the Holland area. Holland is shifting. Holland is becoming more progressive.
A survey was released a couple months ago that said Holland is the second happiest city in the country. Now I know some people found that amusing, but I think it’s great. And I think maybe one of the reasons people are happy in Holland is because Holland is shifting, Holland is becoming more progressive.
Now, will the city council of Holland pass an ordinance banning discrimination of people because of sexual orientation or gender identity in housing, employment and education? I don’t know. Time will tell. I’ve been asked by a group called “Holland Is Ready” to meet with them and strategize about how to get such an ordinance passed. And, of course, I’ll be happy to do that. The group “Holland Is Ready” is another indication that Holland is shifting, Holland is becoming more progressive.
My apologies if this Talk has sounded pretty political. But I felt I should talk about Erik Prince’s enemies list and calling people like me, and maybe some of you, noisy leftists. Whether you consider yourself a noisy leftist or a mumbling moderate or a quiet conservative, that’s fine with me. I’ll love you no matter what. (And I hope the reverse is true.)
I was reading a book the other day and I came across a quote by a Spanish philosopher, Ibn Arabi. Ibn Arabi says, “Love alone is my religion.” I like that. “Love alone is my religion.” Let us not worship MSNBC or the Fox News Channel, let us make love alone our religion. Let us not worship the Democratic Party or the Republican Party, let us make love alone our religion. Let us not worship President Obama or Rush Limbaugh, let us make love alone our religion. If we do that, if we make love alone our religion, then Holland and Michigan and America and the World will all be the better for it.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Love Is The Hokey Pokey Of Life
[The following was delivered at an Interfaith Civility Service we held on April 15.]
When I was a kid many years ago, I think in the basement of my childhood church, we learned the Hokey Pokey. Maybe you learned it as a kid too. You put your (I can never remember if you go right or left): “You put your right foot in, you put your right foot out, you put your right foot in and you shake it all about. You do the Hokey Pokey and you turn yourself around. That’s what it’s all about.” It’s too bad all of life isn’t as simple as the Hokey Pokey, isn’t it? My friend Fred Wooden from Fountain Street Church in Grand Rapids has a t-shirt that says: What if the Hokey Pokey is what it’s all about? Unfortunately, we know it’s not.
Lately it seems like incivility – and worse - is what it’s all about. A Congressperson is spat upon. African American Congress people are called the N-word. A gay Congressperson is called the F-word. Those victims were all Democrats. But incivility, or worse, is not restricted to one political party. A Republican Congressperson has a bullet shot through a window of his office building. Threats upon the life of President Obama increased 300 percent compared to the number of threats made against President Bush. Barack Obama is a Democrat, of course. But again, that kind of thing is not restricted to one political party. We remember that an assassination attempt was made many years ago on the life of President Reagan, a Republican. Incivility – and worse – covers the political spectrum. Just as terrorism covers the religious spectrum.
9-11, which happened nearly 9 years ago, involved Muslim terrorists. The Oklahoma City Federal Building bombing, which happened 15 years ago next week, involved a Christian terrorist, Timothy McVeigh. So incivility and terrorism span the political and spiritual spectrum. Are incivility and terrorism what it’s all about?
Not according to many religious leaders down through the ages. 2,000 years ago Jesus said, “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another.” More recently, the Dalai Lama, the leader of Tibetan Buddhism, said, “My religion is very simple. My religion is kindness.” Every religion that I know of – Baha’i, Buddhism, Christianity, Hinduism, Islam, Judaism, and more – everyone of them says, follow the Golden Rule. “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” “Love your neighbor as you love yourself.”
Incivility isn’t what it’s all about. Terrorism certainly isn’t what it’s all about. Love is what it’s all about. Love is the Hokey Pokey of life. Whether you go to your right or to your left, politically or spiritually. Love is the Hokey Pokey of life. That’s what it’s all about. That’s what it’s all about.
When I was a kid many years ago, I think in the basement of my childhood church, we learned the Hokey Pokey. Maybe you learned it as a kid too. You put your (I can never remember if you go right or left): “You put your right foot in, you put your right foot out, you put your right foot in and you shake it all about. You do the Hokey Pokey and you turn yourself around. That’s what it’s all about.” It’s too bad all of life isn’t as simple as the Hokey Pokey, isn’t it? My friend Fred Wooden from Fountain Street Church in Grand Rapids has a t-shirt that says: What if the Hokey Pokey is what it’s all about? Unfortunately, we know it’s not.
Lately it seems like incivility – and worse - is what it’s all about. A Congressperson is spat upon. African American Congress people are called the N-word. A gay Congressperson is called the F-word. Those victims were all Democrats. But incivility, or worse, is not restricted to one political party. A Republican Congressperson has a bullet shot through a window of his office building. Threats upon the life of President Obama increased 300 percent compared to the number of threats made against President Bush. Barack Obama is a Democrat, of course. But again, that kind of thing is not restricted to one political party. We remember that an assassination attempt was made many years ago on the life of President Reagan, a Republican. Incivility – and worse – covers the political spectrum. Just as terrorism covers the religious spectrum.
9-11, which happened nearly 9 years ago, involved Muslim terrorists. The Oklahoma City Federal Building bombing, which happened 15 years ago next week, involved a Christian terrorist, Timothy McVeigh. So incivility and terrorism span the political and spiritual spectrum. Are incivility and terrorism what it’s all about?
Not according to many religious leaders down through the ages. 2,000 years ago Jesus said, “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another.” More recently, the Dalai Lama, the leader of Tibetan Buddhism, said, “My religion is very simple. My religion is kindness.” Every religion that I know of – Baha’i, Buddhism, Christianity, Hinduism, Islam, Judaism, and more – everyone of them says, follow the Golden Rule. “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you.” “Love your neighbor as you love yourself.”
Incivility isn’t what it’s all about. Terrorism certainly isn’t what it’s all about. Love is what it’s all about. Love is the Hokey Pokey of life. Whether you go to your right or to your left, politically or spiritually. Love is the Hokey Pokey of life. That’s what it’s all about. That’s what it’s all about.
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