Tuesday, December 10, 2013

The Music of the Prophets: A Sermon for the Second Sunday of Advent

Isaiah 11.1-10

Matthew 3.1-12

Church of St Mary the Virgin and St Nicholas
Littlemore, Oxfordshire


Second Sunday of Advent

“Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.”

May I speak to you in the name of the true and living God +Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.

Last Thursday night, Nelson Mandela passed away at the age of 95.  This is a great loss for the entire world as Nelson Mandela was a leader who strove for peace and reconciliation in South Africa after forty-six years of Apartheid.

We should not pretend that Apartheid, the systematic stripping of rights and segregation of the South African people by its white, settler minority, was this nebulous evil that affected South Africa in the past and is now gone forever.  Nor should we reduce Nelson Mandela’s legacy to a mere sense of good feeling about peace.  Both were more than that.  The evil of Apartheid, where people were categorized by ethnicity based upon the presumption that white skin and European ancestry was a sign of genetic superiority and then segregated from one another in public facilities, and where the native African population was forcibly enclosed in so-called ‘homelands’ and stripped of their rights and humanity, was the natural conclusion to centuries of Dutch and British colonialism that subjugated, enslaved, and dehumanized the African majority of South Africa.

Nelson Mandela spent much of his adult life fighting against Apartheid, both through non-violent and violent resistance against the Apartheid government.  His association with communist groups and his attempts to overthrow the South African government in 1962 had him sent off to prison for 27 years where he endured brutal conditions and treatment.  It was only after intense international political pressure that he was released in 1990 and Apartheid came to an end in 1994 with the first free, general, and open elections in South African history, which he helped to negotiate and instigate.

In Nelson Mandela’s presidency of South Africa we find something extraordinary.  His presidency was one of national reconciliation.  A truth and reconciliation committee was created to serve as a forum for people, both victim and perpetrator, to speak of their experiences and actions during apartheid.  People who worked in the apartheid system such as law enforcement officers and government officials were pardoned; national programs were set up to attempt to redistribute the wealth that had become concentrated in the white population to the now enfranchised African majority.  These programs were not initially popular, but it was necessary to heal the wounds of a nation scarred by the great sin of apartheid.  As Nelson Mandela said “courageous people do not fear forgiving.”  There could not be justice or peace without forgiveness.  Nelson Mandela gives hope that indeed someday there can be true justice in this world.  And though racism, other systems of apartheid in other parts of the world, and sin still exist, Nelson Mandela throughout his life fought to ensure that justice could be realized.

Like Nelson Mandela, there are people who have lived, and who live among us now, who somehow are more than they seem. They say and do things that sometimes may be considered strange, or dangerous, and yet they somehow are the most attuned to society around them. They can challenge the most powerful people in the world, and even the powerful can live in fear of them (indeed Mandela was labelled as a terrorist by the United States even as late as 2008).  They sometimes march to the beat of their own drum; in tune with something we cannot perceive.  The Bible refers to these kinds of people as prophets.

We often associate prophets with predicting the future, and though they serve that purpose to some extent, they speak as much about the present as they do the future.  There are many prophets in the Bible: Moses who openly confronts the Pharaoh of Egypt to free the Hebrew people from slavery, Deborah who liberates Israel from the Canaanite King Jabin, Elijah who challenges Ahab and Jezebel’s priest of Ba’al to a contest on Mt. Carmel to demonstrate the power of God, and Jeremiah who laments the destruction of Jerusalem caused by their apathy towards the poor and suffering in their midst.  Today, we hear from two very important prophets, Isaiah and John the Baptist. 

It is interesting to compare Isaiah to Nelson Mandela as they are very unlike one another.  Nelson Mandela was a political revolutionary who spent a third of his life in prison before working to transform South Africa as its first post-Apartheid president.  Isaiah by comparison, was probably in the upper echelons of the Kingdom of Judah, and had the ear of the royal court and king.  He too was willing to challenge and condemn the sins of the Kingdom of Judah such as ignoring the plight of the poor and the destitute among them.  But even when the Assyrian Empire was about to overtake the Kingdom, and all hope was lost, he delivered a message of hope to the people:

A shoot shall come out from the stock of Jesse,
and a branch shall grow out of his roots…
He shall not judge by what his eyes see,
or decide by what his ears hear;
but with righteousness he shall judge the poor,
and decide with equity for the meek of the earth;

This person is the hope that God will not abandon those who are in need.  The poor and defenceless will find equality and hope in the world.  And this hope isn’t a temporary salve or release from the bondage of this world in the next life, but the transformation of the very order of the world itself.

The wolf shall live with the lamb,
the leopard shall lie down with the kid,
the calf and the lion and the fatling together,
and a little child shall lead them.
The cow and the bear shall graze,
their young shall lie down together;
and the lion shall eat straw like the ox.
The nursing child shall play over the hole of the asp,
and the weaned child shall put its hand on the adder’s den.

These things should not happen, and yet this vision of a world contrasts with our own where the wealthy take from the poor, where the strong oppress the weak, and where greed and power are celebrated as virtues.  What Isaiah gives us is a song of a world as it should be.  But we shouldn’t just listen to the words, but to the melody as well—the coming of the root of Jesse upends the world and creates a new Kingdom where the oppressed and the oppressor find peace with one another. 

What hope then might an encircled Judah find from Isaiah?  What hope might we find from Isaiah?  To know that hope, we need to turn to John the Baptist.

John the Baptist is a rather iconic person.  He is a bit of a recluse, living out in the desert, wearing itchy camel’s hair, eating a protein rich diet of locusts and honey, and baptising people who probably walked for many miles in the river Jordan.  He calls out to the religious leaders of his time and refers to them as a ‘brood of vipers’ because he perceives them to be self-righteous hypocrites who seem to follow the Law of Moses in exactitude whilst ignoring the hardships and burdens of people around them.  He too speaks of one who is coming, and that time is drawing near as ‘even now the axe is lying at the root of the trees’.  The world is about to be deeply, deeply, changed. 

If we were to sum up the work of all of the prophets, all that they said and did, it comes together in what John the Baptist cried out “Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight!”  The prophets call out to their time to remind us that God is active and in the midst of our world, and he is about to do something in it.  The implications of this though need to be considered.

In the opening number to the musical Godspell, we are introduced to various intellectual figures throughout history: Socrates, Thomas Aquinas, Galileo, and Jean-Paul Sartre to name a few.  These philosophers, theologians, historians, and scientists all present their views on the nature of God, the nature of truth, and the nature of human reason.  Their messages begin to overlap with one another until you can no longer make them out, and they begin to fight with one another as climb a ladder to reach out to a light.  They can never reach the light though, no matter how far they climb.

However, the light does give a response, and it sings out ‘prepare ye the way of the Lord.’  Nothing else.

In our time, how many philosophers, theologians, historians, and scientists continue to reach towards that light?  So many seem to claim to have the answer, the right interpretation, the right insight, and the response that comes back is ‘prepare ye the way of the Lord.’  The prophets remind us that God is the one who crosses that threshold as Jesus Christ, who is the Son of God, Emmanuel, the shoot of Jesse, and the coming dawn upon a world covered in darkness.  The words and deeds of the prophets are the music that overwhelms the cacophony of our lives that draws us closer to God’s Kingdom.

We are not isolated from the music of the prophets.  When we share what we have with others, particularly the poor; when we show kindness to one another, particularly the lonely; when we welcome the stranger into our midst, particularly the foreigner or one who is different; and when we stand up for the oppressed, particularly those whom we might have a difficult time accepting; we become attuned to that music and can say like the prophets ‘prepare ye the way of the Lord’.  And when we accept the gifts from others, when we receive kindness, when we are welcomed, and when we are protected, we find the very kingdom the prophets spoke of in our midst.

In this Advent Season, let us join with Isaiah, John the Baptist, Nelson Mandela, and all the prophets as we let the music overtake our busy preparations for Christmas.

Let us prepare the way of the Lord.
Amen.


Friday, October 11, 2013

Can Communion be celebrated online?

The short answer is no. 

However, the fact that online communion is being practiced by a small number of communities and debated in the United Methodist Church is a curious point of discussion.

The origin of this is an article on the Huffington Post that I recently read that talks about the rise of online religious communities and the growing phenomenon of online worship.  If you are interested in reading the article, it is here:


Let me start by taking time to explain my own bias: I believe strongly in the real presence of Christ in the Eucharist, the elements become the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ at the moment of the Epiclesis.  I am also not a Methodist,  but this phenomenon of online Communion is also happening outside the United Methodist Church, and so I think it is possible to address the issue as it is starting to enter into the wider Christian community.  This discussion therefore has implication for others as well, particularly in discussions about ecumenism and communion between denominations.

The celebration of Holy Communion is one of the oldest Christian rites.  It is first instituted by Jesus Christ, and then further elaborated and explained by St. Paul and the other Apostolic Fathers.  As time goes on, the Liturgical forms that center around the celebration of the Holy Communion, of the Holy Eucharist, take shape and develop, and the theology of the Sacrament is further clarified.  Setting aside the differences of theology behind what happens at the Eucharist in the different Christian Traditions, one of the consistent elements and themes that occurs throughout history is that the celebration of Holy Communion is connected to the gathering of the Christian community.

The word communion is derived from the Latin word commūniō, which essentially means “with gifts.”  The world also can be used to describe a joining together of some sort.  It is also related to words such as common, communicate, communal, and community.  In the celebration of the Holy Communion, we as the community brings forth our common gifts, not just bread and wine, but our very selves to become the Body and Blood of Christ.  Regardless of how one approaches the theology of the Eucharist itself, what is present is the communal body gathered as the Body of Christ.  That is what makes communion possible; it is the Body of Christ celebrating and consuming the Body of Christ.  The boundary between God and us comes down and we are joined with God in this Sacramental act.

When I was an undergrad student, one of the things that really just rubbed me the wrong way was how a few of my peers believed that there really was not a church they liked, so they would just go on their laptop and listen to a few praise songs and listen to a particular pastor’s sermon.  This is troubling in many ways.  Setting aside that there were at least ten churches in the town where my university was (including Roman Catholic, Episcopal, mainline Protestant, and evangelical parishes), it represents a growing isolation that we face more and more of in society.  This is counterpointed in the idea that I, as an individual, should go to church only if I am personally fed by it.  These two points continue to reinforce each other.  In the intersection of these two points, a church turns into a message board, a Facebook page, a Twitter account, and a YouTube video.  These things become very specific in their target audience and form countless little niches for each particular expression of thought across cyberspace.  

If we look at Christianity in the United States, where for much of the history the general narrative seems to focus on the individual (whether it is individual salvation, individual experience, or individual revelation), the need for community and communal acts might be considered secondary, or even tertiary in the face of this, and thus it reinforces this pattern even more.  We get inundated with media, and we specify our media to fit our individual needs and interests because what replaces community is entertainment.  Online communities can easily become insular, and isolated.  Opinions can get re-entrenched in this atmosphere because reactions to posts oftentimes are a text-based message that cannot convey an honest reaction, particularly if someone says something hurtful.  Our society pushes us more and more because we increasingly have busier schedules.  Whether it is work, school, or our additional activities, the ability to just have even a spontaneous cup of coffee with a friend is no longer possible because we have to schedule it two weeks out.  Online interactions become an easy way to maintain community when we do not have the ability to do so (I write this recognizing that as a grad-student I am often intensely busy.  I also recognize and I am saddened that in our society many simply do not have time to be others because they work multiple jobs in order to make ends meet.  Leisure and community, instead of being a right, are treated as a privilege of those who can afford it, and this is wrong).

It is no wonder then that in this environment that discussions about the possibility of online Communion can occur.  We are cheapening our communal acts because community itself is breaking down.

What makes Communion real is not just the Eucharistic prayer being said over the elements, it needs the gathering of the Body of Christ.  Even if it is happening over a live stream on the Internet, I cannot put some bread and wine in front of my laptop and have it become the Body and Blood of Christ.  Community is real because of the physical presence of people being with one another.  We are members of a community, and when members of a Christian community re-member, they remember the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.  In short, when we remember, we remember.  We cannot truly remember if we are not truly in contact with one another.  This is not to say we exclude those who cannot physically be there, indeed another ancient practice of Christianity is for deacons to bring the consecrated elements to those who are ill or otherwise could not be there.  But even then, there is a physical remembrance occurring in the presence of Christ.  The Incarnation, and the consumption of Christ’s Body and Blood reminds is that physicality and matter matters, it is not all, as it were, up in the cloud.


We must remember that the Body of Christ is first and foremost a community gathered.  As people become busier and busier with life, whether by choice or need, we need to maintain our focus as community whether it is through gently reminding people about the need for communal action, through fighting for higher wages for workers so people can actually escape and have time for leisure and community, or providing some sort of assistance so people can join in the Communion of the community.  We also need to remember that even though the Internet can be a great medium for discussion and communication, we must remember that technology is not a substitute for the Christian community because we cannot truly remember if we are not there to remember. 


Wednesday, December 5, 2012

The Dream of Advent: A Sermon for Tuesday of the First Week of Advent

Isaiah 11:1-10

Psalm 72: 1-8

Luke 10: 21-28

All Saints' Chapel, Church Divinity School of the Pacific
Tuesday, 4 December 2012
Tuesday of the First Week of Advent

This fall I was given the opportunity to tutor elementary school students in a charter school in Oakland.  Last Wednesday, one of the students that I tutor was reading the Velveteen Rabbit.  While he was reading it, he started asking me a series of existential questions, “what does mechanical mean?” “what does it mean to be alive?” “why are we alive but robots are not?  Don’t we need power just like a mechanical toy?”  At first I thought he was trying to waste time as there were only ten minutes left in the session, and so I gave him a few polite answers, but he still kept pushing.  He seemed almost troubled at the thought that inanimate objects were not living things, and there was a palatable silence from my answers  which seemed to disrupt this child’s fantasy world.

Jesus said “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants.”

This seems to be an odd thing for Jesus to say, how do we as seminary students and professors even begin to approach such a text.  We can have the intellectual knowledge to say that Jesus is the incarnate Word, the Son of God, and the Messiah; but all of these things are mere words, built up from a Hellenistic and Jewish philosophical and metaphysical paradigm.  At the end of the day, these words they describe so little, if anything at all.  Unfortunately, It does raise a number of questions as to why we are here at CDSP studying theology and religion.

But before we run and burn all our degrees and course work to set them on fire in an anti-intellectual fervor, let us pause to consider what Jesus is saying.  Who and what is Jesus, and what does his being on Earth mean?   In Advent, we await the coming of Christ and the reign of God on Earth, in full recognition that the reign of God has already begun with the coming of Christ 2000 years ago.  Though we may attempt to try and understand what that may mean, I believe that the true meaning of the Advent of the Lord is elusive.  

When we turn the words of the Prophet Isaiah, we see a vision of the reign of God will be like.  The Prophet tells us that “a shoot shall come out from the stock of Jesse, and a branch shall grow out of his roots.”  That shoot will judge the world with equity.  Not only that, the world will be reordered to reflect that justice.  Predators will lie with and eat with what was once their prey and infants will play with snakes.  It is a fanciful scene, idyllic, and dreamlike even.  

A common interpretation among Christians is that the shoot of the stock of Jesse is Christ.  As Jesus has already been born once and came into the world once, we can say that the reign of God has begun because we believe Jesus Christ is that judge.  There should be justice and equity in the world; the world should be reordered according to Isaiah.  Yet, I do not think any parent will willingly let their children play with poisonous snakes.  Nevertheless, we are presented with and confounded with a vision of God’s reign as it should be, and yet it is not.  There is still injustice and pain in the world.  How can we be living in the reign of God?  Perhaps this paradox is what confounds the wise, and yet I think we must suspend our intellectual ascent and consider the world through the eyes of a child, whom Jesus says is able to see clearly that which is hidden to the wise.

A psychologist I know told me once that the most grounded people in life are those that maintain a certain childlike curiosity about them throughout their life.  They are willing to examine and try new things, and embrace that childlike wonder and awe at the unexplored and newly imagined.  The desire to explore, imagine, and dream should never die as we transition from childhood to adulthood.

And yet as a society, I fear that we haven’t learned how to truly grow up, we have only learned how to grow old.  We are so afraid to have that childlike embrace of wonder and mystery, we are afraid to dream.  It is written off as childish pursuits in a realistic world.

Perhaps that is why Jesus says these things are revealed to infants.  The image of the wolf living with the lamb may seem like a far off fantasy dream world, and yet in a child’s imagination it is conceivable.  This is not to say that Isaiah’s vision is childish, but there is a certain child like awe and wonder at a world that has been reorder from a world of destruction to a world of peace.

Sadly, we live in a world of cynicism, fear, sorrow, hatred, and distrust, and we use all of our conceivable intellectual capacities to rationalize and explain away the deep inequities of our world.  Yet the Prophet Isaiah never promises that we will be freed completely from the evils of this world, but that there will be a judge to help us live into the vision and promise of the reign of God.  For us, that judge is Jesus.  Through Jesus Christ, through God, we have the freedom to imagine and dream of a world as it should be, and we have been granted the gift to live into and make our imagination and dreams a reality.  Christ calls us to be children once again so that we may dream of a world as it should be, and grow up to make those dreams a reality.  

This Advent, let us remember what it is like to imagine a world where anything is possible.  Even though it is childish, let us learn to dream once again.

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

The New Mundane: A Sermon on John 6:51-58


“My flesh is true food and my blood is true drink.”

May I speak to you in the name of the True and Living God—Father, Son, and Holy Spirit+

In the past month we have witnessed multiple acts of senseless violence.  On July 20, at a midnight showing of the Dark Knight Rises, a lone gunman shot and killed 12 people and wounded 58 others.  On August 5, another gunman entered into a Sikh Temple in Wisconsin and open fired killing 7, including himself.  On August 13, three were shot and killed near the campus of Texas A&M University.  And August 15, a guard was shot outside the headquarters of the Family Research Council in Washington DC, thankfully, the guard survived.  We know of these tragedies, and there are countless more that are not known to us.  In cities and towns across the nation, there are people who die needless every day.  There are children who live lives where violence is just a routine part of it.  Regardless of where one stands on the issues of gun laws, we can all agree that the senseless violence that exists, whether it be in Aurora or Oak Hill, College Station or Washington DC, no matter where it is, the violence of this world, especially the violence that takes a life, is tragic.

Nothing I can say can alleviate the pain and the tragedy that the victims and families face in the wake of these events.  Nevertheless, there can be some hope in this, for death is not the end.  No matter what, no matter where, God has already conquered death.

“Very truly, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day;”

When Jesus spoke these words, few at the time understood what he meant or what he was saying.  Just a few weeks ago we heard of how Jesus fed the masses with just five loaves and two fishes, and now he is telling people to eat his flesh and drink his blood because he is “the living bread that came down from heaven.”  All of this seemed nonsensical.  

Time passed, and before Jesus’s death, he gathered with his friends and family one last time, and he gave some insight into what he meant that day.  He took bread and said “Take, eat, this is my Body, which is given for you."  He took wine and said "Drink ye all of this; for this is my Blood of the New Testament, which is shed for you, and for many, for the remission of sins. "  This mundane bread is the body of Christ; this common wine is the blood of Christ.  No response is given by his friends and family, perhaps they know what Jesus means when he calls the bread and wine his body and blood.  Perhaps the gravity of his coming death overwhelms the situation and the room, and silence is their only response to this cryptic and unusual ritual in the midst of their Passover seder.

Soon after, Jesus is executed.  His death by crucifixion was a relatively common experience in the lives of the people of the Roman Empire.  Jesus was killed because Rome saw him as a rabble-rousing revolutionary.  Thousands before him, including other would-be messiahs, were executed in this fashion, and thousands more would be executed in this fashion after Jesus.  Crucifixion, considered one of the most excruciating and horrible forms of torture and death, is but another common event in the lives of those living in the Roman Empire whether it be outside of Jerusalem or along the Apian Way in Italy, it was meant to discourage dissent and desensitize people to violence and brutality so as to strip even the onlookers of their humanity.

Because of all of this, it is a relatively mundane story.  It’s just another act of senseless violence.  After Jesus’ death, the thousands of people in Jerusalem go about their business as if the next day is just another Sabbath day.  And the world returns to its mundane weekly routine, just like people do today.  Most of Jesus’s disciples go into hiding, or try to return to their normal lives.  The only people around to mourn his death are his Mother the Blessed Virgin Mary, Mary Magdalene, Mary the wife of Cleophas, Nicodemus, Joseph of Arimathea, and the Apostle John.  He is placed into a tomb, to be buried and then forgotten over the course of centuries like so many others before him.

But the story does not end there, death cannot contain Jesus, the Christ, the incarnate Word.  Hell and death are conquered and the tomb bursts forth as the last of the Old Creation and the first of a New Creation.  Christ is raised and dies no more.  Death no longer has dominion over Christ for he conquered it, and now it no longer holds dominion over us.

The common bread and wine, the simple Jesus and his death have become extraordinary because the extraordinary body and blood of Christ and his new life have become mundane.

God became mundane so that we may be extraordinary.

His broken body has been given to us to become our body, and his blood has become that which binds us all together into that body—we are the living body of Christ.  Every week, every day, every time we are together as a body, we are broken together and our blood is shed, only to be reformed again into a new body again, and again, and again.  We share in this so that in our mundanity, we become extraordinary.

My friends, this calls for us to be and to do more than we are because Christ is “working in us,” and he can make us “do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine.”  It demands a response because “his flesh is true food and his blood is true drink.”

When there is violence whether it be by a gun or by some other means, regardless of the situation, when evil enters into our lives and the lives of others, and when evil is done to someone, whether they are Christian or not, violence and harm is done to the body of Christ, for we are all one body and one family.  As Christians, we are called to stand with the victims of oppression and violence, for as Archbishop Desmond Tutu say “God is biased towards the oppressed.”  And there the body of Christ must be, with the oppressed, so as to encounter the body of Christ.

It is in that unusual paradox, the body of Christ meeting the body of Christ, that I think the true nature of what Jesus said to the crowds in the feeding of the multitudes, in the Last Supper, and in his Death and Resurrection is made known.  It is the New Creation being formed and made in the image of God, Christ, and the Holy Spirit.  In the Beginning, God formed life from the dust of the Earth, and breathed his spirit into it.  Now, in the breaking and sharing of the Bread and Wine, the Body and Blood of Christ, we become the new breath of the Spirit, being given to the world for renewal and rebirth.

Indeed, as the Body and Blood of Christ, we can overcome the evil and darkness in this world.

In the face of tragedy, in the face of sorrow, in the face of death, the story does not end.  Death has been rendered mundane in the face of resurrection and new life, and that extraordinary reality of new life and resurrection as the body and blood of Christ has become the new mundane.

Amen.

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

More than speech: The effects of Chick-fil-A on the lives of LGBTQ people


The past few days have been ones of revelation regarding the popular fast food company of Chick-fil-A.  Before now, it was a generally open secret that Chick-fil-A was opposed to LGBTQ rights because of the various organizations that it donated money to.  Some worked to repeal legal protection of LGBTQ rights, and others offered and promoted psychologically damaging reparative therapy for LGTBQ people to attempt (and fail) to change their orientation.  Recently, son of the founder of Chick-fil-A and president of the company, Dan Cathy, said in an interview to the Baptist Press that when it came to supporting the so-called traditional family he was “guilty as charged.”  He later said in an interview to The Ken Coleman Show:

“I think we are inviting God's judgment on our nation when we shake our fist at Him and say, 'We know better than you as to what constitutes a marriage,' and I pray God's mercy on our generation that has such a prideful, arrogant attitude to think that we have the audacity to define what marriage is about,”

Dan Cathy’s statements continue a cycle of rhetorical violence that justifies the dehumanization of LGBTQ people.  Sure, Chick-fil-A will continue to sell their sandwiches to LGBTQ people, but they will continue to donate money to groups that will continue the oppression of LGBTQ people.

For over a year now, a powder keg has been building regarding those donations.  People already were committed to boycotts.  Dan Cathy’s remarks though were the spark that set off the powder keg, and now Chick-fil-A has become a symbol in the ongoing debate about the status of LGBTQ people in society.  

In the wake of Dan Cathy’s remarks, there has been an almost hesitant response from people.  Certainly Mike Huckabee and his ilk continue to defend Dan Cathy’s remarks.  And though many others have openly pledged a boycott, I have also seen responses from people who under any other circumstances would stand with oppressed people, shy away from a confrontation with the business.  Attempts are made to minimize Chick-fil-A’s donations and their president’s statements either by stating that the amount of money they donate to these groups is very small (except they have donates hundreds of thousands and millions of dollars to these groups) or point to other charitable organizations that they donate to that do not work towards the oppression of LGBTQ people. 

I do not like this line of thinking because it appeals to a pseudo pragmatic/utilitarian mentality that I find immoral.  At best, it attempts to white wash the donations; at worst, it attempts to legitimize it by implicitly saying, “well, its okay that they donate to these groups because they donate to these other groups.”

Furthermore, in response to Dan Cathy’s statements, the mayor of Boston, Thomas Menino, has said he is going to work to push Chick-fil-A out of the city.  The Alderman of the First Ward of Chicago, Joe Moreno, also said that he would fight against Chick-fil-A’s attempt to get a permit to open a restaurant in that part of the city, and has the support of Mayor Rahm Emanuel. In an article on the Huffington Post, a person on their blog crystalized the push back against the mayor of Boston’s and others statements by saying “the state is not there to arbitrate opinions, but to protect rights -- even rights of people we dislike.”  He goes on to say “If politicians who claim to be friends of the LGBT community want to really put it on the line, they should help organize a picket line and be seen there as often as possible. Use the legitimate power of boycotts instead of state power.”  This all can be translated down to saying that a community boycott is legitimate, but the state must be tolerant of intolerant people.  However, it is absurd to ask for a group that is being discriminated and oppressed to be “tolerant” of their oppressor.  The lack of sensitivity is overwhelming. 

In recent days, those elected officials have backed off on using state power to limit Chick-fil-A’s growth as a company.

Here is the problem, this is not a “First Amendment issue” or “Free speech issue,” it extends beyond that.  Dan Cathy has the right to say what he wants, he even has the right to donate money to whomever he wants, and the state will not stop that ability to donate.  But, those donations have consequences, dire ones, ones that we should not be willing to tolerate and respect.  And it is those consequences that warrant state action because people’s loves and lives are on the line. 

Over the past ten yeas, Chick-fil-A has donated millions of  dollars to groups that seek to deprive the rights of LGBTQ people.  This is beyond a simple matter of disagreement.  For LGBTQ people, organizations like Exodus International, the Family Research Council, the Marriage & Family Foundation, and the Georgia Family Council are organizations that create and maintain a climate of fear and shame for LGBTQ people.  These organizations create the rhetoric that allows for violence against LGBTQ people.  And these concerns are well founded, in the past few days, a lesbian in Nebraska was carved with a knife, a gay man in Oklahoma was firebombed, and a girl in Kentucky was kicked and beaten, her jaw broken, and her teeth knocked out while her assailants allegedly hurled anti-gay slurs at her.  This is not a matter of “oh well, life goes on,” people’s lives and safety are at risk.

Furthermore, Chick-fil-A also has a record of discrimination in its employment policies, which it does not, or should not, have the right to do.

Upon researching the Human Rights Campaign’s website, they have rated Chick-fil-A Inc. with a zero in their policies and benefits.  Meaning that they are actively discriminating LGBTQ people since they provide no benefits for LGBTQ employees or their spouses and partners, do not provide insurance coverage for a trans-persons needs, and does not have a non-discrimination policy for sexual orientation or gender identity.  Chick-fil-A in essence, is creating a hostile work environment, and in some cases is breaking the law.  However, since there is no Federal Law against the discrimination of LGBTQ people, people sometimes have no recourse because 29 states have no legal protection for LGBTQ people.  So Chick-fil-A may be covered in many states by being discriminatory, it still speaks to the greater issue of LGBTQ personhood.  One should not be fired because of their sexual orientation or gender identification; it is as simple as that. 

I support boycotting Chick-fil-A, but boycotting is not enough.  Boycotting is also a means to raise awareness so that government can step in and create a resolution to the situation.  Sit-ins and boycotts were effective tools to combat segregation in the South, but it was only with the 1964 Civil Rights Act that segregation officially ended.  This is a fair and legitimate power of the state because it ensures a certain equity for people that otherwise does not exist when we are allowed to let prejudices dictate society.  It is my sincere hope that in the wake of this scandal Congress can finally pass Federal non-discrimination legislation for LGBTQ people, that marriage equality becomes a reality, and that we can begin to work towards a better society in which none have to live in fear about who they are.


Sunday, April 15, 2012

Coming home Catholic: Rediscovering my Catholic faith in the Episcopal Church


What does it mean to be catholic? Some would say that it means being Roman Catholic, being in communion with the Bishop of Rome. Others would say it means holding onto the apostolic tradition of orthodoxy. The word catholic is derived from the Greek word katholikos, which means universal. How can you call yourself universal if you deny people access to the sacraments? How can you call yourself universal if you deny that people have a call to ministry just because they are gay, married, or a woman? How can you call yourself universal when you are disconnected with the laity, with the people of God, with your flock? The answer is that you can’t call yourself universal very well. What in essence happens is that you claim to be universal, but on your terms. Universal means including all people, and inviting all people to ministry and the sacraments. It is inviting everyday people to be involved in the decision-making processes of the church. It means accepting all people as the Body of Christ
Today I have been received into the one holy, catholic, and apostolic church. Instantly people would think I am refereeing to the Roman Catholic Church, but I am not. Instead, I speak of the Episcopal Church. This church claims the mantle of catholic, and I have found it to be an institution that represents the catholic Church.
I grew up Roman Catholic. Though from an early age, I was endlessly fascinated with Church history, theology, and faith, I never really had the best of connections with the Roman Catholic Church. After a long period of apathy ending with the Archdiocese of San Francisco’s involvement in Prop 8, I turned from the church. I believed that the hierarchy was hypocritical and unable to recognize the harm that they cause to people.
After a period of time, I started attending evangelical churches. I enjoyed it at first, but I found the services to be distant and not really connecting to anything. I never connected with the four songs and a sermon method of worship. After being made to feel unwelcome in the churches that I attended. With no place to turn, I started attending an Episcopal Church.
When I was there, I felt as if I had come home. The warmth of the congregation, the vibrancy of the liturgy, the invitation for all to the altar, it all made me realize that this was what it meant to be universal, to be Catholic. I can never be more thankful for the priest there, and all that she did for me in those few months I was there.
In my time in Thailand, I grew to depend on the Book of Common Prayer app I had for my iPod in order to find any sense of fulfillment and discipline in my prayer life.
When I returned to Hawaii, I started attending an Episcopal Church near my home. There too did I find a sense of belonging, even though I spent a short period of time there. I am grateful for the priest there, and all she has done to make me feel like I have a home when I am there.
During my time working and worshiping at an Episcopal church, I fully embraced being catholic. They showed me that you can be catholic without Rome. And they have challenged my theology in new and interesting ways. I am gratified for the opportunities that the priests there have given me.
In this past year of attending the Episcopal Church, I have learned many things, but one thing stands out is that Jesus loves everyone, Jesus accepts everyone. Our response to this is to do the same: love everyone and accept everyone.
There is a point in the liturgy that sums up everything, the Law, the Baptismal Covenant, the creeds, everything:
“Hear what our Lord Jesus Christ saith: Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it: Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.”
To follow this means we are living out the commands of our faith. To follow this means we are living out orthodoxy. To follow this means to be catholic.
We invite all people to the Baptismal font, for we are all invited to share into the death and resurrection of Christ. We invite all people to the altar because we are all invited to be the body of Christ. We are a living faith, for we are in a living Body of Christ, it means that we will grow, and change, and move more and more to that ideal of God, of the Church, and of what it means to be universal.
We sometimes fall short, we sometimes fail, we often disagree, but we still work more and more towards the ideal that Christ set forth. We recognize that compromises are necessary for unity, but that if we sacrifice people in the sake of unity, we deny our greater unity. Doctrine and theology are important, but not so important that we deny people access to the love and grace of Christ just to maintain our sense of “purity.” The Episcopal Church has made many mistakes, but it keeps moving forward knowing that: “There is one Body and one Spirit; There is one hope in God's call to us; One Lord, one Faith, one Baptism; One God and Father of all.”
We are all the children of God; we are all in the family of God. And we have a responsibility to love one another. That is what it means to be catholic, to love one another, without condition. When we love one another, we love God, for as Jesus says “Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.” It is one and the same thing. We fulfill the catholic mantle when we do this.
And so I walk forward once again into a new beginning, into the family of the catholic Church.

Sunday, April 1, 2012

An April Fools’ Palm Sunday

I cannot help but say I had a lot of fun today. This Palm Sunday was quite possibly the most joyous and exciting experiences I have had in church; perhaps in someway it reflects the excitement and joy that people had when Christ entered Jerusalem. The procession with the hymn All glory, laud, and honor set the mood for the day. And you know what, it was, dare I say, fun. And I am not just saying this because I am trumping my church’s horn; I had to keep a straight face while singing and suppressing a smile while in the procession (lest I look to happy in Christ Church). There is one thing that struck me today, today is not just Palm Sunday, but it is also April Fools’ Day. There is something to be said about that, that at the end of Lent, and in the sadness of the days to come in Holy Week, there is foolish defiance of the powers of the world in Palm Sunday that is but a foretaste of the Resurrection of Christ.

Over the Passover in Jerusalem in Jesus’s time, it is likely that the Roman Governor, Pontius Pilate, requested more troops to enter the city to maintain order. Jerusalem was packed with pilgrims for the feast, a feast that celebrates the freedom of the Jewish people from enslavement by another empire long ago, a feast celebrated by a people that were somewhat defiant of Roman rule. So there was probably a concern that in the atmosphere of celebrating liberation, an uprising may occur.

These troops probably would have entered in with standard military procedures and ceremony complete with pomp and circumstance, and with there commanding officers on horseback, displaying the full power of Rome. Around the same time a backwater hick from Galilee named Jesus enters in on a donkey. The donkey is nowhere near as majestic as a horse, and an animal that is known for being stubborn. Yet here he is in the midst of what must be a foolish image, a grown man riding a donkey that probably does not want to be bothered, being proclaimed King of Israel, the Son of David. The crowds lay their robes and cut palms to lay in the street and shout Hosanna in the highest! His entry into Jerusalem almost seems laughably defiant towards the powers that be; and yet his entry into Jerusalem begins to call into foolishness the powers of the world.

And yet, it almost seems foolish that Jesus is entering into the very den of those seeking to kill him. Nevertheless, he rides on. Not on a warhorse or a steed like the Romans, but on a donkey.

The foolishness of his entry seemingly becomes apparent. After his arrest, we see the crowds turn on him, people proclaiming him king soon call for his crucifixion, possibly in hopes that if they scream the loudest, no one would know they were there laying palms before his path. The foolishness of our fears is revealed. We don’t want to be seen as defiant, because defiance means scorn and derision, and in Jesus’s case, death. To soothe our fears, we call ourselves foolish for even thinking such thoughts as to challenge the status quo. We call foolish those seeking to challenge the powers of the world, and we dismiss too quickly their work, and go about our business as if nothing is wrong.

But even upon the cross, bearing the world’s pain, sorrows, sins, oppression, injustice, and evils, Christ overcomes the darkness of the world. Death could not take him, Hell and the grave could not contain him, and thus the foolishness of Hell and Death are revealed, and now are no more. What started as a foolhardy, joyous, and defiant entry into Jerusalem becomes the salvation of the world.

And so, may you all have a blessed and happy April Fools’ Day.