Go Easy

Jude is a letter in the New Testament of the Bible.  It is one chapter.  A brief word.  The twenty-second verse says, “Go easy on those who hesitate in the faith,” (The Message).  The New Revised Standard Version puts it this way, “have mercy on those who are wavering.”

So, dear reader, who doubts.  Who is not sure what to believe.  Who wonders about God.  Or who doesn’t care.  Your hesitation in faith is a mystery to me, even as my own belief is a mystery.  I cannot NOT believe, and I cannot understand why anyone doesn’t believe.  For me the evidence of God is as clear as a gorgeous sunset, or a ruby-throated hummingbird.  How could this be without a Creator?

For me the evidence of God is as tangible as Jesus, who lived among us, as scripture says, “full of grace and truth.”  His life is undeniably unique, and dare I say it – Godly!  How could this be unless he was God in the flesh?

For me the evidence of God is as amazing as the addict who finds sobriety, as mysterious as the compassion of a Mother Theresa, as tender as kindness offered to a stranger.  How could this be unless there is a Spirit hallowing human life?

Still, some of you don’t believe.  Now, that’s the real mystery.  Some will point to the tragic, cruel, even wicked events and persons in the world as a denial of a loving God, but how do you explain goodness, truth, beauty . . . and mercy? 

So, I am dumbfounded by unbelief.  But Jude counsels me to go easy.  God went easy on me for several years.  Indeed, God has been easy on me my whole life.  I suppose I can go easy, too.  Isaiah the prophet said about the Messiah, “a bruised reed he will not break.”  Easy does it.  

Epic Journey

Epic journeys are commonplace in these times.  Thousands have climbed Everest.  Men have walked on the moon.  I know several people who have walked the Appalachian Trail.  A teenage girl from Holland, Laura Decker, sailed around the world by herself, finishing in January of 2012.  I have contemplated a bicycle tour across America.

Why do we humans have a need for such adventures?  We like to test our limits, as Robert Browning wrote,

“Ah, but a man's reach should exceed his grasp,
Or what's a heaven for?”

The Bible has a cautionary tale about human striving and ambition.  As the ancients built the tower of Babel they did so saying, “Let us make a name for ourselves.”  As medieval architects constructed grand edifices intended for the worship of God I suspect there was a thin line between pious devotion and human pride.

I am writing this in early December, contemplating epic journeys, like the one Joseph and Mary took to Bethlehem from Nazareth.  By modern standards it seems like nothing, only 100 miles.  Still, walking from the hills of Galilee to the mountains of Jerusalem would have been an eight to ten day journey, with the threat of robbers along the way.  Every image we have of that journey shows Mary on a donkey, but the scripture mentions no beast of burden.  She walked. 

And when Jesus was born we are told that shepherds came to witness, telling Mary of angelic messengers announcing his birth.  Mary, we are told, pondered these things in her heart.

I wonder if the longest journey we make has nothing to do with mileage or terrain but has more to do with heart-pondering.  The reason we make epic journeys and test the limits probably has less to do with how much are bodies can take as it does with a desire to discover what we’re made of – who we are.  I wonder what Mary and Joseph learned about themselves on that journey to Bethlehem?  As Jesus grew and chose a path that his parents likely would not have chosen for him, that too was a journey he was taking them on.  What did Mary ponder as she witnessed his crucifixion?

The most epic journeys are about self-discovery, journeys that require no special equipment or extraordinary endurance.  The Christmas story invites us to go on an epic journey, to see if we can travel the same road Jesus trod.  It looks so pleasant at the stable entrance, but terrifying at Golgotha.  This epic journey tests our character, in order to discover what we’re made of.  Such a journey might just be our salvation.  After all, isn’t that what we hope our epic journeys are for?    

Give No Offense

“Give no offense to Jews or to Greeks or to the church of God.”  1 Corinthians 10:32

A recent tweet circulating locally is as follows:  “The two primary reasons people don’t follow Christ:  1) They’ve never met a follower.  2) They have.”

Ouch.

Mahatma Gandhi is reputed to have said to a Christian missionary:  “I like your Christ.  I do not like your Christians.  Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.”

And therein lays the problem facing the Church.  The world is deeply attracted to Jesus, but less than impressed with Jesus’ followers. 

As a Christian, I believe Jesus is the best hope for the world.  And while the Church has been entrusted with the witness to Jesus, I have often been disheartened by our infighting, and many times embarrassed by the words and witness of some of us who claim to be his disciples.  In the words of Pogo, “We have met the enemy, and he is us.”

There are a few songs circulating with titles like, “God [Jesus], Save Us from Your Followers.”  Ouch, again.  How is it that Jesus, who exemplifies love at its best, should be surrounded by followers who have such a bad reputation?

I want to make a confession, on behalf of Jesus’ followers, to anyone who has ever been offended needlessly, who has been oppressed or judged wrongfully, and who has been alienated from the church because of the arrogance of Christians.  Perhaps it is time for Christians to engage in a period of introspection, repentance and reflection, to consider the harm we have done in Jesus’ name.  And then to engage in acts of contrition, of penitence, as a testimony to the love which Jesus embodies.  We may need more than a season of Lent.  We may need a decade.

I offer the following clip as a demonstration of  the Christian witness to Jesus at its best:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8QQtfjnvdJQ

May the Spirit of Jesus continue to overcome and transform the worst of his followers.  Then, perhaps, the world might be more open to belief.

I Don't Get It

What’s so entertaining about so-called “reality shows”?  Why are they so pervasive on TV?  And the talk shows that deal with the worst that is in us (“I am the secret lover of my daughter’s boyfriend!”).   Or those shows in which we watch people get pummeled, pulverized and humiliated as they run a sadistic obstacle course ---Who’s watching this stuff?

Apparently someone is watching or else it wouldn’t be on.  Movies, shows, and entertainment seem to be exploring the gutter these days to see how far into the cesspool we are willing to sink.  Miley Cyrus’ self-degrading exhibition on the Video Music Awards with fellow bottom feeder Robin Thicke is only the most recent demonstration of our culture’s fascination with the lowest common denominator.  I once rationalized that we like to watch such trash because it might make us feel better about ourselves.  By comparison we might say, “Gee, I guess my life is not so bad.”  But I don’t understand why we seem to need such a steady, daily dose.  I guess I’m wondering what’s missing from our lives that we would seek to fill the void with such poverty of imagination.

I do not want to trash Miley Cyrus.  I suspect she is the latest emotional casualty of the Hollywood machine that created her.  There are others before her --- Macaulay Culkin, Brittany Spears, and Lindsay Lohan are precursors.  Each of these is a person in whom there exists the image of God, a soul in whom God delights.  So, why have they “exchanged the truth of God for a lie (Romans 1:25).”  In this context, the lie they have bought into is that they must find their self-worth in their popularity (which is never quite enough to satisfy the ego), instead of the truth that they are already of infinite value regardless of public adulation. 

What about those of us who watch this stuff?  Does it really make us feel better?  Does it really entertain us to watch the degradation of another, to watch humans behaving badly?  Am I a naïve to wish for programs that might evoke the best that is in us?  Instead, programs seem to push the envelope ever further to see what level of prurience we can tolerate. 

I do not call for a return to “Leave It to Beaver,” all innocence with no intersection with the reality of our lives.  But it is possible to tell stories that combine humor while looking at prejudice (“All in the Family”), evil confronted by integrity (“Foyle’s War”), or . . . why don’t you cut your cable, save some money, and get you a good book at your public library.  I hear Mark Twain tells some pretty good stories.

I guess I’ll end this by asking the WWJD question in another way --- “What would Jesus watch?”  To tell you the truth, my mind is blank.  I can’t picture Jesus sitting around eating popcorn and watching “Modern Family,” although I suspect he would find a Duke-Carolina basketball game highly entertaining.  I imagine Jesus would be spending more of his time in connecting with people directly rather than through some medium like TV, computers or smartphones.  Something to think about...    

Itching Ears

2 Timothy 4:3 --- “For the time will come when people will not put up with sound doctrine. Instead, to suit their own desires, they will gather around them a great number of teachers to say what their itching ears want to hear.”

“The time will come. . .”  Well, the time is here.  More so than at any other time in my half century of living are we able to carve out a niche of preferences to “suit our own desires.”  The Internet exacerbates the problem as each search engine is tailored to track our queries, to follow our patterns, and then to feed us information that some algorithm has formulated for our specific interests.  When my wife enters a search for “shoes,” on her laptop she gets entirely different results than I do on mine, even if we are using the same search engine, because these search engines have been tracking every other search we’ve ever done.  How convenient to have everything shaped around our preferences!  And how spooky, too!

I received a newsletter from one of my congressmen recently, giving the report of a survey he had conducted among his constituents.  Not surprisingly, the survey resulted in opinions that supported his political positions.  After all, his emails go out to his supporters.  Thus, he now feels justified in his positions even though his survey was already skewed --- it gave him the results “to suit his own desires.”

Unless we exercise some intentional effort to glean information from many different sources, including opinions counter to ours, we run the risk of becoming more and more entrenched in our attitudes, with less and less openness to hearing counter arguments.  So, if you get all your news from FOX, and your neighbor only listens to MSNBC, the two of you will tend toward argument rather than conversation. 

We do have “itching ears,” in preference for teachers who tell us what we want to hear.  Much to our loss.  Leading to the increasing polarization of our society.

To have the courage to listen to opinions that vary from our own is a sign of maturity in individuals and in communities.  A government that fosters civil discourse is what our U.S. constitution is intended to provide, though our legislators are straining against such civility these days.

As a Christian, I see the polarization of churches, too.  We are not immune to the effects of incivility in discourse.  But, at least we should know better.  We are all one in Christ Jesus.  Among splintered churches, is it any wonder that the world doubts our gospel?

I am grateful to be a Methodist.  At our best we continue to respect one another’s differences in theology and Biblical interpretation.  We even show grace toward our sisters and brothers of other religions, most of the time.  The church, in fact, is one of the few places where people of opposing political viewpoints might actually interact and find commonality.  We may still have “itching ears,” but our hearts long to reach out to others, and Christ Jesus calls us to "bear with one another."  In a society that is hell bent on demonizing our opponents, we could use more tolerance, more mercy toward one another.  Jesus leads us in his way.  Let’s embrace this as good advice  --- “In essentials unity, in nonessentials charity.”  May our ears be willing to listen even to those with whom we disagree.  We might learn something. 

Doing Less in Order to Live More

This is about simplicity – finding that “one thing” that is needful in our lives. 

My preaching professor taught me to be ruthless in excising everything from my sermon that did not have to do with my central message:  getting rid of parenthetical paragraphs, getting rid of three points and a poem, in order to make one key point, one key word.  That same focus would serve our lives, if we could be ruthless in excising everything that gets in the way, or is an obstacle to our one thing that God wants for us, the one thing that God has called us to be and do, we would find greater joy in the doing, --- doing less and living more.

I find we are trying to do it all, and it is killing us.  We think we’re going to miss something, so we never fully attend to what is in front of us.  We listen to a tune on Youtube, but wonder if there’s a better tune out there and we are searching for another before we’ve fully engaged in the tune that is sounding in our ears.  We’re trying to do too much, and in an attempt to live life to the full, we are actually living marginally, superficially, with short attention spans, never fully digesting the experience we are in.

If we could do one or two things very well, with enjoyment, with depth, how much more satisfying would it be than doing a dozen things with the barest of competency? And in saying “no” to these other good things, that may open the opportunity for others for whom these good things are their “God-things,” for which they are uniquely gifted – perhaps in a way we could never be.

If we say yes to God’s call in our lives, and have a firm grasp on that “ONE thing,” we may with greater peace and conviction say “no” to other good things, which may not be the things we need to be doing.

If we learn to say “no” to more “opportunities,” we may be able to say “yes” more often to the thing things that enrich our lives and the lives of others.

If we do fewer activities we might actually enjoy the activities we do with greater pleasure.

If we work fewer hours, that leaves room for work to be done by others, thereby addressing the high unemployment rates.

We need to do less in order to live more.  I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.

“There is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.” --- Jesus in Luke 10:42

Life is a journey

While preparing for a course in spirituality, I was reminded of Walter Brueggemann’s description of the various experiences of spiritual pilgrimage:  1) Orientation, 2) Disorientation, and 3) Reorientation.

We begin our journey with some basic idea of where we are headed.  In my spiritual journey that began in childhood.  Learning the Bible stories in a Christian environment, I was oriented toward Christ as the “pioneer and perfecter of [my] faith (Hebrews 12:2).”  My journey was not a straight path as I sometimes ventured off the proven trail from time to time, but I did not stray too far until my late teens.  By that time I began to chafe at the disconnect between the faith of my childhood and my maturing intellect.  I began to question many things I had been taught, eventually casting aside the particularity of Christian spirituality. 

I became disoriented.  I chose no particular spirituality whatsoever.  I dabbled in atheism, but tend to think of myself during that time as agnostic.  I simply wasn’t sure whether there was a God, and for a while I didn’t care.  I had no plan, no direction, and no perception of divine purpose.  That seemed okay for a while, but I eventually grew despondent and morose from my lack of resolve.  I think it is a basic human need to find meaning, and I had none.  I was disoriented.

In my 20’s, I became reoriented through the simple hospitality of people who welcomed me and my wife into a new community.  They were Christians and their loving welcome led me to relook at the spiritual path I had once been on.  And, armed with a new spiritual hunger, I began to read once again those Bible stories of my childhood faith, but with a new capacity to read below the surface, to find that these stories were dealing with the deeper questions of meaning – these stories were leading me to consider what makes life really worth living.  And I became reoriented, and my path in life became clearer.

Since then I have had many periods of disorientation, and have needed to be reoriented time and again.  I see the same pattern in Jesus’ life.  As Reuben Job puts it, “Jesus knew intensely personal communion with God . . . But he was not immune to struggle, disappointment, or the sting of rejection from friend and foe alike (Companions in Christ, Upper Room Books, 2006, p. 19).”  We cannot possibly comprehend the depth of abandonment that Jesus felt at Gethsemane or Golgotha. 

But in Jesus we see someone in whom we can identify regarding our own periods of disorientation, and discover that such times do not have to define our lives.  The resurrection is a witness that the ultimate meaning of our lives is not controlled by the darkness but by light, not by despair but by hope, not by death but by life.

We have all experienced the disillusionment of broken promises, disappointment in people, and discouragement at not being able to obtain our goals.  Perhaps we have despaired of the path we’re on when our ideal vision is not matched by the reality of our experience.  Such periods of disorientation may actually prove helpful, as we then discover something about ourselves and of God.  Sometimes we discover what God is NOT, and that may move us toward a more mature understanding of who God IS.  And in doing so, we gain greater clarity on who we are.  And we are reoriented toward that life which is really worth living.

I pray you are on the path that leads to life.  My path involves carrying a cross.  It’s not easy.  Sometimes it weighs heavy.  But it feels truer with each step I have taken.  I hope you will join me.

  

To Be a Part of Something Bigger Than Yourself

One of the things I love about my wife’s family is the stories they tell whenever they get together.  When we were dating and we sat around the dinner table eating a simple meal of hot dogs and potato chips, there was also served a healthy helping of stories about when her little brother had tick fever, or the way her daddy used to drive his ’57 Chevy too fast when he was sixteen, or the time she broke her toe kicking her other brother in the shin.  There was a lot of laughter in the midst of the stories and it didn’t matter how many times they told the same stories,  I always enjoyed hearing them.

My family had stories, too; vacations at the beach, the boat trip from Brazil to Miami, life on the farm.  I thought most families were like mine until I spent time with my (eventual) wife’s family.  Their stories, like their family, were very different from ours but, like us, they enjoyed telling them. 

I learned recently that young people who have an active knowledge of their family stories are better adjusted than those who don’t.  If a child can tell you where her grandmother grew up, or knows what kind of work her grandfather did, she tends to have a higher self-esteem than those children who don’t know about their family heritage.  Children who can articulate stories about their crazy uncle, or their eccentric cousins, seem to do better in school than children who are oblivious to their lineage.  It is as if the stories of family, the ups and downs of fortune, the ins and outs of relationships, are a reminder that they are a part of something bigger than themselves and as a result, they are somehow better able to cope with the challenges they face in their own lives.

There is a myth in American culture that we can make it on our own without anybody’s help, and there may be rare individuals who overcome deprived backgrounds and flourish in their own lives.  But most of us who thrive do so only as a result of having been a part of a community, being part of something bigger than ourselves.

I am a part of a large community – a community that is unbound by time and space.  At the breakfast table where ancestral stories were shared, I also heard stories of Abraham and Sarah, of David and Bathsheba, of Hosea and Gomer, of Mary and Gabriel, and, of course, Jesus.  I learned that I was not only part of a family that had lived through many adventures in the 20^th Century, but I was also part of a people who had suffered, endured, and thrived through millennia – a part of a story of God’s redemption of the whole of creation.  I am a part of something that is, indeed, bigger than myself.  And that something has made all the difference.  

What's Proper?

At the family breakfast table as I was growing up I received daily exposure to Bible stories as well as frequent instructions on proper grammar.  These were so constant in nature that I came to (mistakenly) assume that proper speech was integral to Christian discipleship.  Only as I later went to seminary and began to process my faith through proper theological frameworks did I realize that mature faith and a literate mind were not necessary bed partners.  Still, what’s bred in the bone, as they say . . .

So, as an ode to my mother, here are some common mispronunciations which say nothing about your character as a human being, and has no bearing on your eternal destiny, but which would grate on my mother’s nerves…

“Irregardless,” is not a word.  Leave off the “Ir,” please.

“Nauseous,” is not how you feel when feeling queasy.  Instead, you are “nauseated.” 

One does not “lay” down, one “lies” down.  As my mother would say, “Chickens lay.  People lie,” unless it is past tense then, “I lay down yesterday, while the chickens laid eggs.”  Confused?  Welcome to the English language.

When you exaggerate you are using hy-per-bo-le (le as in “lee”) --- not hy-per-bole (bole as in “bowl”).

And former President Bush notwithstanding, the word is “nu-clear,” not “new-que-ler.”

“Often,” is often pronounced with a “t” sound, but the “t” should be silent.

And salmon is eaten without an “l” so try it, “sa-mon.”

And if you cannot remember these instructions you are not suffering from “Al-timer’s” disease, or “old-timer’s” disease, but you may want to be checked for “Alz – heimer’s.”

“You’re,” means “you are.” “Your,” means something belongs to you.

“It’s,” means “it is.”  “Its,” means something belongs to it.

“There,” is a place you may be going.

“They’re,” refers to persons who may be going with you (“they are”).

“Their,” means something belongs to them.

“Who’s,” means “who is,” as in “Who is going to the movies?”

“Whose,” means something belongs to somebody, as in “Whose popcorn is this?”

You might think I am being pedantic (look it up), and I probably am, but I mean this all in fun.  Accept (not except) my apologies if you are offended, but if you learned something that will serve you in the future, my mother, God rest her soul, would say “You’re welcome.”

Far from the Tree

          I have not read the book yet, but the title attracts me.  It is a work by Andrew Solomon entitled, Far From the Tree.  From reviews I have read, including an interview with the author, the book apparently deals with the expectations all parents have about who their children are going to be, and the disorientation that results when their children turn out to be different than they had anticipated.

          This is true for every parent.  We often envision our son or daughter fulfilling some shattered dream we had for ourselves --- if you are an academic, you might imagine your infant growing to become a Morehead scholar, setting the world ablaze with her insights or research.  If you are a shade tree mechanic, you may imagine hours spent together with your son, under the hood of a ’57 Chevy, extolling the virtues of polished chrome, or cubic inch displacement.  We often anticipate our children turning out to be a lot like ourselves.

          However, we are often surprised at how different our children turn out to be than we had imagined.  She turns out to be an average student.  He wants to be a dancer.  As parents, our dreams for them are sometimes disappointed, occasionally crushed, frequently requiring a reality check.  As the book’s title suggests, our children often fall “far from the tree,” that bore them.  This is especially true for parents of exceptional children --- children born differently-abled --- perhaps he is deaf, she is blind.  The athlete you anticipated arrives into the world with cerebral palsy.  The pianist you envisioned has Down’s syndrome.

          Some parents experience a period of grief as they come to terms with the dream versus the reality.  But what Andrew Solomon lifts up in his book is the discovery that many parents make, that there is great blessing to be discovered when we acknowledge and affirm the child that “is” rather than the child that we imagined.  In my own experience with parents who have raised, or are raising exceptional children, I have been encouraged to discover how they delight in their children, even with the special challenges their child may present. 

          As a Christian, I affirm the scriptural truth that we are all created in the image of God; an image that is not marred by physical deformity, or mental slowness.  There is a sense in which the voice of God speaks to us the same words that God spoke to Jesus at his baptism, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with whom I am well pleased.”  No matter how far from the tree we have fallen, we are precious in God’s sight, and there is that of God in us.    

          Perhaps to be made in the image of God is to be able to see blessing no matter in what guise it is hidden.

Imperfect Spirituality

Churches are not perfect.  And that lack of perfection, of course, hinders our ability to show Christ to the world.  I've often said that most people in our community have no problems with Jesus, it’s the church that bothers them – the hypocrisy that is all too visible in Jesus’ imperfect followers.  My standard answer to those who decry the hypocrisy of Christians is to say that the church always has room for one more.  After all, Christians have not cornered the market on hypocrisy.  How many people in business, in politics, in the marketplace, say one thing yet do another?

But this criticism of the church by outsiders gives me hope that at least those who are not following Jesus are at least paying attention.  If I’m talking about you, then I applaud your ability to see the disconnect between who Jesus is and the failings of church people to be like him.  At least you are seeing the uniqueness of Jesus and that’s a good place to begin in discovering who he really is.

The truth is that followers of Jesus never get it quite right.  This was true with his early disciples, arguing about which one was the greatest among them, wanting places of honor, not grasping the servant heart of Jesus.  Still, what they did get right was that they kept following him.  And, after all, that is what it means to be a disciple --- to be a follower.

Sure, there are plenty of followers who are straggling along at the rear of the pack, getting off the trail sometimes because they barely see Jesus up ahead.  Still, somehow they dust themselves off when they fall, and get back at it, or as I like to think, Jesus picks them up and points them again in the right direction.  These are not sterling examples of Christian discipleship but they are following, and that really is all that Jesus asks.

And then, you have to admit, there are those who seem to follow so closely, who are right on Jesus’ heels, that it is as if we see the heart of Jesus shining in them.  There are the saints recognized around the world, like Mother Theresa.  But there are saints who live in your neighborhood --- the woman who picks flowers and visits the sick every week, the retired man who instead of playing golf every day, spends time at the Christian ministry sorting clothes, or shelving food supplies.  You know who they are.  These folks may not be perfect, but they are further along in living the servant life than most of us.

Yea, given the uniqueness of Jesus, it is hard to explain how some of his followers can be so shabby.  But it is equally hard to explain why there are so many shining lights of goodness out there, and why wouldn’t we want to be like them? 

By the way, part of the appeal of Jesus is that he measures perfection not by any objective standards of moral behavior.  Rather, he measures perfection by our ability to show mercy, as he shows not only to those shabby followers, but perhaps also to those who have never even made the effort.  That’s why church is always a mixed bag collection of people.  We are all following sloppily, and in need of mercy which Jesus offers in abundance.  Come join us.  

The Prophetic Risk

It is Sunday evening and I’m thinking about the risk I took this morning, hoping it was worth it.  I spoke a prophetic word to the people of God who gather each Sunday at the church I serve.

When I say, “prophetic,” don’t make the common mistake of assuming that I was predicting future events.  Contrary to the misconceptions of many, Biblical prophecy is not concerned about predictions but with addressing the injustices (and idolatry) committed by God’s people and calling them to account.  The basic Biblical plot which occasions the rise of prophets is as follows:

            God makes a covenant with the people.

            The people break the covenant.

            God sends prophets to call the people back to the covenant.

            The people repent (change their wicked ways), or not!

Today I questioned whether the elected leaders of the state of North Carolina were keeping covenant.  Psalm 72 prays for the king to act with God’s justice toward the weak and the needy.  The Gospel of Luke recounts the words of Jesus, “Blest are you poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.”  Jesus’ final parable in the Gospel of Matthew implies that the nations will be judged by the way we treat the least of these.  Keeping God’s covenant carries with it an obligation for those with power to care for the poor.  In today’s political climate of budget slashing, I perceive that the axe cutting government services is falling sharpest on those who can afford it the least.  If I am right in this perception, then this is contrary to God’s covenant.

The risk of speaking as a prophet is that I may offend someone’s political sensibilities.  In doing so, I cause a division in my congregation and I regret that.  I am by nature a pastor, someone who wants to offer care and compassion to people, to overcome differences and bring people together in unity.  I am by calling a preacher, specializing in a message of grace whose sermons are generally appreciated by most.  I like to proclaim good news that makes everyone feel good!

But there is a line in Luke’s Gospel (6:26), right there in the midst of “Blest are you poor,” which says, “Beware when all speak well of you.”  I have always been haunted by those words.  They are a caution to me not to retreat into the comfortable role of pastoral preacher.  Sometimes God requires a preacher to be a prophet.  Elijah was a thorn in King Ahab’s side (1 Kings 18:17).  So much so that Ahab said one day, “Is it you, you disturber of Israel?”  As the old cliché goes --- sometimes the preacher comforts the disturbed, but sometimes one must disturb the comfortable.  Ahab needed to be disturbed. 

If anyone was disturbed by what I said today, I hope they will nevertheless hang with me for a while – engage me in dialogue, or even challenge me.  Perhaps they will also challenge themselves.  If we fail to hang together in church, disagreeing with mutual respect, then I don’t see much hope for our present societal impasse where politicians refuse to meet in the middle. 

Today I spoke as a prophet.  I was uncomfortable.  What do you know . . . maybe I’m the one who needed to be disturbed? 

Who Deserves Health Care?

Here’s a question:  Does every sick person deserve to be treated for their illness?  Seems rather heartless to say, “no.”   But if we say “yes,” and the person who is sick cannot afford care, who is going to pay for it?  The answer to that question is as complicated as Obamacare and the accompanying political drama.

Still, I am interested in the whole question of who deserves care and who doesn’t.  As U.S. citizens we believe in “justice and liberty for all,” and doesn’t a just society require that we provide care?  Would care be for citizens only?  Or does “justice . . . for all,” imply a broader interpretation? 

Who deserves care?  Who is worthy?

Some esteemed members of the synagogue in Capernaum came to Jesus one day asking him to heal the ailing servant of a local Roman officer (Luke 7:1-10).  Romans were Gentiles, considered unclean by Jewish law and custom and thus excluded from Jewish worship and community.  However, these Jewish elders who approach Jesus assure him that this particular Roman is “worthy,” or deserving, of Jesus’ attention because he paid for the construction of the synagogue.  Well, isn’t that the way we usually measure who deserves our attention? 

I suspect that Jesus responds to their request regardless of the worthiness of the Roman officer but because Jesus is a man who provides healing, not because people deserve it, but because he is compassionate (Matthew 9:36).  And followers of Jesus are to be compassionate, too.  We are called to respond to people in need, regardless of our perception of what they deserve. 

I know we have to consider the cost of care.  No society can function without counting the cost of services that it provides.  But if we cut services to people who need medical care can we continue to call ourselves a just society? 

I have to let other people do the math.  In lean times governments need to set budget priorities.  I simply raise the issue because I believe our priorities should be guided by compassion.  And I believe Jesus continues to offer us a perspective on what compassion looks like.

On another occasion (Luke 8:40-56), another esteemed Jewish leader asked Jesus to come heal his twelve-year old daughter who was at the precipice of death.  Surely this man was deserving of Jesus’ attention.  But on the way, a woman on the fringes of society who had, because of her illness, been ritually unclean for the same number of years as the little girl had been alive, approached Jesus for healing.  She had been ostracized by her disease.  Her society judged her unworthy and undeserving of human attention, and unlike the Roman officer of the previous story, she had not paid for a synagogue.  But Jesus delayed his visit to the home of the deserving Jewish leader in order to heal and affirm this “undeserving” woman.

Care should not be based on what we deserve.  Care should be based on compassion.  I pray that both Democrats and Republicans will get their priorities straight.  We deserve no less from our elected officials.   

Healing versus Curing

Once a month our church offers a healing service to the community.  Healing has been part of the history of the church’s practice since the days of Jesus.  After all, one of the reasons people were attracted to Jesus in the first place was because of his wonder-working powers – healing paralytics, causing the blind to see, cleansing the lepers, exorcising demons! 

Still, faith healing has taken on negative connotations because of charlatans who have used the gullibility of the ill to make a mockery of the spiritual practices of healing.  In addition, the rise of modern medicine has led to the American public’s placing an incredible amount of faith in the medical profession as the sole practitioners of the healing arts.  So, what is the church’s role, if any in the realm of healing?

A recent radio program on Charlotte Talks, led my Mike Collins of WFAE, included several professionals from both religious and medical arenas, discussing the difference between healing and curing, and the necessity of both.  The consensus among these professionals was that while curing is a term we reserve for targeted health problems of body and mind, healing is better understood as “well-being,” in the midst of all conditions, whether cured or not.  One of the doctors pointed out that there are those who are often cured of their disease but are so disoriented by the process of cure that they never seem to get their life back together.  In other words, they may have been cured of their illness, but they are not yet healed.  While others, never experiencing cures, nevertheless become stronger and more resilient in the process of treatment – more whole than they were before. 

One of the things we learn about Jesus in his healing ministry is that he was always reaching for something more than cure.  To the paralytic he said, “Your sins are forgiven,” and only afterward did he say, “Rise up, and walk.”  To the leper who had been cured of his leprosy, Jesus says, “Rise, your faith has made you well.”  In each case, Jesus is aiming at something more than cure.

We all want to be free of pain, illness, disease.  Just take stock the incredible amounts of medications that Americans take.  Americans also are characterized by increasing amounts of self-medication in the form of substance abuse.  But, for all that . . . we are not very well.  I am convinced that healing is often neglected in our desire for cure.  And I am confident that the church, as the vehicle for Jesus’ continued healing ministry, has something to offer a hurting world. 

Through prayers accompanied by the traditional practices of anointing with oil, or laying on of hands, people do experience healing.  While not everyone receives cure, everyone may be healed, and the workings of God in the midst of all this remains a mystery which is not under our control.  But of one thing I am confident, whatever pain we are dealing with – mind, body, spirit - God invites us all to be well.

"Let not many of you become teachers"

I just read of another teacher who has been arrested for an improper sexual relationship with a student.  Seems like every week another report of impropriety, or even depravity, on the part of one teacher or another gets spread abroad on the news.  I hate to hear it.  Such reports, if frequent enough, make a person believe that the whole profession has lost its integrity.  If you can’t trust your child’s teacher, then who can you trust, right?

But there’s another view of this picture.  We hear about the bad apples because that’s what makes for sensational news.  We more rarely hear stories about the overwhelming number of teachers who, day in and day out, sacrifice themselves for the sake of the children they nurture.  We all have an inherent agreement to the scriptural instruction, “Let not many of you become teachers, my brethren, for you know that we who teach shall be judged with greater strictness (James 3:1).”  We tend to believe this in our bones rather than in our heads, which is why even those who are not people of faith nonetheless feel some sort of moral indignation when a teacher betrays the public trust.

But again, the overwhelming majority of teachers are credits to their profession; wonderful nurturers and protectors of children.  Teachers today have to be skilled at many roles – teacher, counselor, social worker and, recently, human shield.  The heroic actions of Newtown teachers who put themselves between Adam Lanza’s murderous rampage and the children they were called to teach have been well documented.  Now, in the wake of the Moore, Oklahoma tornado of this past Monday, we hear more stories of teachers who were found cradling, or embracing children, in attempts to protect them from the storm that destroyed their school.

In these days when politicians are cutting state budgets with sometimes self-righteous ruthlessness, teachers and education have been “judged with greater strictness,” to twist the scripture just a bit.  The loss of tax revenues necessitates cuts, of course.  However, I don't believe educators should be the target of the scissors.  I'm just not sure you can ever pay teachers too much.  They hold in their hands our children and what they will become.  Our teachers are shaping the future.  They deserve our respect.  They deserve our gratitude.  They deserve to be compensated.  As CNN columnist L.Z. Granderson wrote this week, On a typical day teachers do more than enough to be fairly compensated without being unfairly vilified by budget cutters.  “But on a day that's not so normal, we hope and pray that they are willing to do much more. And time and time again, in the face of terrible tragedies, we have learned that many of them do.” (http://www.cnn.com/2013/05/21/opinion/granderson-oklahoma-teachers/index.html)

God Leads

I want to write a book.  Don’t know when I’ll have time to do that, but it would be a response to all the literature that is now so prolific on the subject of leadership.  Every week I get an email newsletter with leadership tips.  I regularly get invitations to participate in leadership summits, conferences, and workshops; all guaranteed to strengthen my leadership skills.  I can use all the help I can get.

But it is a curious thing.  The Bible reserves the term “lead,” almost exclusively as a description for the activity of God.  Psalm 5:8 is an example:  “Lead me, Lord, lead me in thy righteousness.”  While we often say that Moses led the people out of Egypt, in the memory of the people of Israel it was the Lord who led the people with a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night, and Moses is remembered not so much as Israel’s leader but as God’s servant.

God leads.  The people serve.  Some church workshops have picked up on that servant language and provide instruction on “servant leadership.”  Oh, well, maybe that’s a shift in the right direction.

I think I can illustrate this kind of servant leadership in the life of Charles Eurey.  When my father got his first appointment as a pastor after returning to North Carolina from 18 years of missionary service in Brazil, he was sent to Rhyne Heights United Methodist Church in Lincolnton.  Our neighbor, two doors down from the parsonage, was Charles Eurey.  Charles was a strong voice in that small membership church, and he also was a regular attender at our annual conference at Lake Junaluska.   Mr. Eurey is a man of strong convictions and was never reluctant about expressing his opinions from the floor. 

My father recalls trying to convince the folks at Rhyne Heights that they should build an outdoor combination tennis and basketball court for the young people of the community as a way of reaching out.  Charles Eurey was opposed to the idea and voiced his opinion at the Administrative Board meeting.  However, when the vote was taken, the motion to build a recreational area was approved.  After the vote, Charles pulled out his check book and was the first to write a check to support what the church had decided.  Though his preference had been defeated, he accepted the will of the church, in deed and word.  He submitted to servanthood.

That sort of God-led service is what is being asked of us all who claim to be disciples of Christ.  If God is leading us, we can do no less than to follow.  Perhaps the world would pay more attention to Christians if we led a little less, and followed a little more.

Christlike Christianity

          I know.  The title seems redundant but bear with me a moment.  The word Christian is a time-honored reference to followers of Jesus.  But through the years it has taken on some, shall we say, excess baggage: Charlemagne having the Saxon’s baptized at the point of a sword in the late 8^th Century; the Crusaders in their campaign to annihilate the Muslims in Jerusalem in the 11^th and 12^th Centuries; the long history of Jewish persecution by Christians; the Inquisition in Spain; the persecution of witches in Salem; the sad affairs of TV evangelists, prosperity gospel preachers, and the list could go on . . .

          Why is it that in these days when I think Jesus has never been more desperately needed by the world, I feel a certain embarrassment at being identified as a “Christian”?  I suppose it’s because the name can so easily be misunderstood. Has the word lost its meaning?  Like the word “love,” which we use to express the heights of passion for another person, and the most casual of pleasures (“I love what you’ve done with your hair!”), perhaps the word “Christian” needs an adjective.

          Ah, that’s right!  Someone has already come up with one, as in “born again Christian.”  Still, that phrase has become as divisive as modern politics.  Others argue for “biblical Christianity,” as if there is any other kind.

          Let me cut to the chase.  What if we came back to Jesus, who we are supposed to be following?  What if, instead of being biblical Christians, we became Christlike Christians?  After all, wiping out tribes of Ammonites and Philistines might be biblical, but it is hardly Christlike. 

          What if, instead of being born again Christians, we were simply Christians who were trying to be more Christlike in our actions?  After all, Jesus said you must be born again to only one person – Nicodemus; but he said to all those who were attracted to him, “take up your cross and follow me.”  

          My argument is articulated with greater style and depth by many theologians in the emerging church – writers such as Brian McLaren.  But I am convinced that our identity as Christians is significant not because of what we believe but because of how our beliefs are manifested in our practice.  Some would argue that what we believe will be seen in our actions.  I would argue that it is our actions that reveal what we believe. 

          The way ahead for the people of God will not be shaped by theologians who articulate the faith, but by Jesus-followers who actually live it.  And I share this quote, from an unknown source.  May it be a guide for all who follow Jesus:

          “The answer to every life test you’ll ever face is the same.  The answer to every test is this; Christlikeness.”

                        

Welcome the Stranger

          These days, if you were in a middle school current events class you would likely be learning about immigration reform.  The need for reform has been evident for at least a decade now, and after the recent election season it seems that both sides of the political aisle have the will to engage in significant action.  I am delighted, and members of my congregation, both Anglo and Latino, are hopeful.

          My own opinions on this matter are shaped by Jesus’ mandate to “welcome the stranger,” from the well-known parable in the Gospel of Matthew, Chapter 25.  But the roots of Biblical hospitality can be found even in the Old Testament.  There is a rich witness of grace extended to the stranger among the people of Israel, even though they felt themselves uniquely chosen apart from other peoples.    For instance: 

And I charged your judges at that time, “Hear the disputes between your people and judge fairly, whether the case is between two Israelites or between an Israelite and a foreigner residing among you. Do not show partiality in judging; hear both small and great alike. Do not be afraid of anyone, for judgment belongs to God.” (Deuteronomy 1:16-17, NIV) 

These words seem pretty clear that Israel understood God as one who showed no partiality between the so-called “chosen people,” and the strangers who lived and worked among them.  Israel was constantly reminded that their sensitivity to the stranger came out a deep empathy because they once were a people who knew what it was like to be foreigners in a strange land.  Psalm 39:12 is an example: 

          Hear my prayer, Lord, listen to my cry for help;

           do not be deaf to my weeping.

I dwell with you as a foreigner,

            a stranger, as all my ancestors were. 

          While the U.S. government has been slow to extend that same grace, at least churches, or the ones I am familiar with, have been more willing to provide a spiritual home and even sanctuary to those foreigners residing among us.  My own congregation includes a significant number of “resident aliens” who have been graciously received into our fellowship.  In this case the people of God have been leading the way in how to treat the strangers among us, praying that our civil authorities will eventually find a way to be hospitable as well.

          Admittedly, a nation has a right to establish rules for citizenship, and even Israel had certain restrictions, requiring the “sojourners” among them to comply with certain Jewish dietary or cleanliness laws, and limiting them to worship at the temple only at the outer court.  Nevertheless, the overwhelming body of instruction regarding the stranger in Israel is marked by gracious hospitality. 

          In the letter to the Hebrews we are reminded to show “hospitality to strangers for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.”  So, while the U.S. for the time being may still be criminalizing the sojourners among us, the people of God are admonished to treat them as angels among us; indeed, to treat them as if each one may be Jesus, himself, “As you have done it unto the least of these, you have done it unto me.”

         

We Do Not Need a Pope

One of the members of my church was kidding with me last night, saying that we Methodists need to elect a pope so we can draw some attention our way.  He was remarking on how amazing it is that all the world seems fascinated by the conclave of cardinals - the election accompanied by the traditional white smoke.

Elections, whether in the church or in larger society, are always accompanied by hope.  I commented on the U.S. elections last fall that we seem unfailingly optimistic about the candidates we support.  We imagine that if only the people will elect our candidate of choice then the problems we face will be rectified, and progress and prosperity is sure to follow. 

I think our personal agendas must cloud our memories.  Surely we have seen enough candidates fail to achieve their stated platforms to know that no matter who we elect, he will eventually disappoint us.  So, regarding the election of Pope Francis I, I will pray for him and hope for the best, but I suspect that people will, in time, become disappointed in him, too.    When half the world’s Catholic Christians want a progressive pope, and the other half a conservative, what are his chances of getting everyone on the same page?  The Roman Catholic Church is such an unwieldy institution that even the greatest Pope can only do so much.  I imagine him sitting on a mechanical bull in a Texas bar, trying to hold on while being tossed to and fro.  I am not a pessimist, really.  I simply remember that at the end of Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem there was a cross awaiting him.  We human beings can be dangerously fickle.

I am encouraged that the new pope has a reputation for humility and concern for the poor.  That’s a good sign.  Hopefully, he can straighten out the web of other problems and challenges facing Catholicism while maintaining that missional thrust.  As for us Methodists, no, we do not need a pope.  We have enough challenges these days without adding a new wrinkle to our administrative structure. 

All churches, no matter how we are organized, have blessings to give to the world, and flaws to overcome.  We don’t need media attention, necessarily.  What we need is more Christlikeness -  among our leaders, among our clergy, among those of us who worship in the pews.  I’ll take one Christian who will visit the sick and elderly, for every two who want to do the latest, greatest popular Bible study.  I’ll take one Christian who will check each week to make sure the homeless have food and blankets, for every two who are offering their opinions about the music we are singing on Sunday mornings.  I’ll take one Christian who is willing to teach the children the stories of Jesus, for every two who are enthralled with my preaching. 

Again, the answer to every challenge facing the church is Christlikeness.  From me.  And from you.  And perhaps, for those of you who continue to be put off by the church, a little more Christlikeness on the part of more Christians might make you change your minds.  In the mean time,  don’t be disappointed in us Christians.  As with any pope, we will undoubtedly let you down at one time or another.  Much better to keep your eyes on Jesus.  He’s the one who reveals the will of God.  Really.   

In Search of Community

          Times are hard.  I write this the same week that the Dow Jones average has hit new highs.  Several weeks ago I learned that the sale of Rolls Royce automobiles has grown the last few years.  Apparently times are not hard for everybody.

          My mother’s family were farmers.  In fact, my cousin Charles and his son still run a small dairy farm in Rowan County.  There’s nothing quite like the taste of sweet milk fresh from the cow.  Those white liquids we buy in cartons from the grocery store are a pale imitation of the real thing. 

          Wendell Berry writes poetically about farming, and farming communities – a way of life that is passing from us.  But in those farming communities there is a richness to life, largely because of relationships.  Farming communities once thrived because of interdependence.  Farmers helped each other get in each other’s crops.  Farmers shared wisdom about when and where to plant.  Farming communities tended to each other’s livestock, cared for each other’s sick, and watched and corrected each other’s children.  The wealth of a farmer was in the abundance of his relationships, not in the balance of his savings account.

          The flow of modernity has been toward greater isolation of people from each other, and the severing of those interdependent relationships which nurture community.  We have been fed a lie that we will be happier if we don’t need anyone else but ourselves.  So, the square footage of our homes has grown significantly, while the number of people in those homes has dramatically decreased.  Even in our homes, families are separated, each having a TV in his or her bedroom so that we can be further isolated from one another.  Or we can be disconnected to each other in the same room, our attention glued to our electronic devices.  Even farmers have become less dependent on each other, and more reliant on their machines.  The rise of the factory farm has led to diminished communities.  And in our growing isolation from each other, we know and care less about each other – particularly about the poor.

          My concern is that the less we see and relate to the poor, the less likely we are to see them as people like ourselves.  Instead of seeing them as “people who happen to be poor,” we tend to see them as a demographic statistic, a stereotype of who they really are, and the easier it becomes to ignore them, as in the Biblical parable of Lazarus at the gate.

          Why should you care?  The Dow is rising.  Why not get ours while the getting is good?  Well, a Rolls Royce may be a nice ride but it is a poor substitute for friendship.  As I learned from an African proverb recently, “How can any one of us be happy if any one of us is sad?”

There is an ethical and moral imperative to care for the poor.  But it seems to me that the reason we should care is not so much to fulfill our sense of obligation to some duty, but so that we might become more human.  Our sense of community is diminished when everyone looks, acts, and thinks like us.  We are enriched by relationships with others, maybe especially those who are not in our socio-economic circle. 

          Jesus says something about inviting people to dinner who don’t have the means to reciprocate.  That might be a good way to begin rebuilding communities that are rich and diverse.  There’s nothing quite like a good meal to help build relationships. 

         

           

         

Too Much

          Dave Matthews had a song, “Too Much,” in which he sang about insatiable desire.  I thought it was an obvious parable about contemporary culture.  We tend to want too much.  And sometimes, we want irreconcilable desires.  We want to eat whatever we want, and we want to keep our schoolgirl figures.  We want government services, but we want them not to cost us.  We want peace and harmony in the family, but we want it on our terms.  We want it all.

          We want too much.  For Christians the season of Lent provides a wake-up call regarding our endless desires.  We begin with an acknowledgement of our limitations on Ash Wednesday with the stark reminder that we are all going to die.  Gee, who wants to think about that? Then we are encouraged to give something up for Lent; another denial of what we may be craving.  And if that is not enough, we keep being reminded about taking up our cross and following Jesus, who himself was cruelly crucified on Good Friday.  Who wants any of this?

          Isn’t there an easier way?  Well, of course there is.  There are countless other ways to live our lives.  In Jesus’ own day, there was the way of the Pharisees and the Sadducees.  There were the extreme ways of the Essenes, or of King Herod, by way of contrast.  There are a variety of ways of living that many find preferable today --- the way of the Kardashians, the way of FOX news, the way of MSNBC, the way of Honey Boo Boo, or the way of the couch potato --- simply watching this endless stream of entertainment (so-called).  If you want it bad enough, you can find plenty of affirmation to buttress your chosen way of living and thinking, whatever that may be.

          But the person who says, “I’m going to follow Jesus,” in this self-indulgent culture is challenged daily to test her or his wants in the crucible of what God wants for us.  And the cross is the litmus test of whether what we want fits with God’s ultimate plans.  There is plenty of cross-avoidance among Christians, no doubt.  But sooner or later, if we claim what we believe, we cannot avoid the sacrifice of Jesus.  The cross stands as a judgment against every self-indulgent choice we make, individually or communally. 

          The irony of our too-much culture is that no matter how much we have, it never seems to be enough.  We always want more, and never seem satisfied.  But Jesus reminds us that God is enough.  And in that enoughness, Jesus was content.  I believe that’s what’s so attractive about Jesus; he was satisfied.  “Foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.”  True, but nevertheless, Jesus was still content.  Deep down, I think that’s all we really want, too, . . . to be satisfied with enough.  This is my prayer for all of us.  May we be content with God.  And if we are, it will be enough.     

 

We Could All Use a Little Mercy Now

          Mary Gauthier is a recovering alcoholic and a writer of songs.  Her voice has the gravelly earthiness you might expect from someone who has abused herself because of her life choices.  From her experiences, and in recovery, she has much wisdom to share.  Since she has been on the down and out, seamy side of life, she has great empathy for those who are still there.  She does not judge, and through her songs invites us to look at the beaten down with eyes of grace.

          One of my favorite songs she sings is “Mercy Now.”  She sings about her father and the unfairness he has experienced.  She sings about her brother and his demons.  In every verse she ponders the struggles of people, and society in general, as we try to make a way through this world.  And she concludes that “we all could use some mercy now.”

          I stumbled across a local TV broadcast of a nearby preaching service yesterday.  I stayed tuned just long enough to hear the preacher rant and rave against everything and everybody he didn’t agree with and consign them all to hell before I changed the channel.  It took him less than 2 minutes to condemn the world around him. 

I felt the need to apologize to all the non-Christians in the world for this particular preacher’s un-Christ-like demeanor.  I don’t doubt that there is judgment coming.  In some form or fashion, I believe God will set right what is wrong, and perhaps there is some pain and even punishment to come.  But what disturbed me most about this particular preacher was that he didn’t seem the least bit heartbroken about that possibility.  Perhaps he has forgotten what the scripture says, that God takes “no delight in the death of the wicked (Ezekiel 18:23; 33:11).”

As I understand Jesus and his crucifixion, his death is to be understood as a mercy for sinners.  “While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us (Romans 5:8).”  And as Jesus says further, “Be ye merciful, as your Father in heaven is merciful (Luke 6:36).”  So, if God is merciful, understands our need for mercy, and is willing to offer it in such a costly way, it seems as if God’s messengers (and preachers) should also bathe their words in the waters of mercy as well.

As Mother Teresa has reportedly said, “Be kind, most people are having a hard time.”

We all could use a little mercy now.

                                                                             God’s Peace,

                                                                                   Mark

                                                    

Only the Good Die Young

          Spoiler Alert!  She was innocent and idealistic.  She was courageous and adventurous.  She was compassionate and true to her convictions.  And they killed her off.  I’m referring to Sybil, the Earl of Grantham’s daughter, and wife to Tom, “the chauffer,” as he is called by the Dowager Countess.  If you are clueless at this point let me explain that these are all characters in the wildly popular Masterpiece Theater drama, “Downton Abbey,” an “Upstairs, Downstairs,” kind of British soap opera which is in its third season on local public TV stations.

          Sybil was my wife’s favorite character in this drama which has seduced us.  The dynamics of relationships between the downstairs servants and the upper crust nobles who reside in the sprawling environs of the Abbey continue to compel our viewing in a way no American drama seems able to do.  When Sybil died in childbirth last night we were shocked.  My wife is in mourning.  It’s almost as if we feel the need to attend the funeral. 

          Mostly, Sybil’s death struck me because it seemed unfair.  There are so many flawed characters in the show, some just foolish, others despicable.  Why couldn’t have they killed off one of the more dislikable crew?  I suppose that wicked characters help the plot move along in interesting ways.  But there seems to be so much injustice in the world, I suppose I would like my TV entertainment to pamper me at least with the illusion of justice.

          Something within us hungers for justice.  My wife remembers in childhood reacting to parental decisions by yelling out, “I protest!”  I remember our daughter having a keen sense of justice growing up.  In an upside down world we yearn for things to be right side up – for the poor to have dignity, for the good to thrive, for the wicked to perish.

          I am grateful that I can still feel the outrage of Sybil’s death, even if it is all a fiction.  The sense of outrage makes me realize that I have not become numb to injustice.  When there is so much out of balance in our world and the wicked seem to thrive it is tempting to cave in – to throw in the towel and give up our integrity.  The fact that any of us can still feel anger about something that strikes us as wrong gives me hope that maybe we’ll do something about it.  I think it was Martin Luther King, Jr., who said, “the only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for the good people of the world to do nothing.” 

          I can’t do much with the scriptwriters of “Downton Abbey,” and their decision to end Sybil’s role in the drama, but I can allow my anger to lead me to thoughtful action in response to real injustices I witness in the world around me.  Such anger might be called righteous.  Be grateful if you still can still feel it.