It's About Time, and Now It's Time for People of Faith to Speak Loudly!

I was quite distraught at the Supreme Court ruling concerning the Voting Rights Act. I don't disagree, necessarily, with the court striking down the part of the law that they did, but rather, with the prospect of having to count on Congress to rectify it. They were warned by the Court several years ago that the act was in jeopardy and needed updating. Congress did what it has done most of late, nothing.But today, I found great comfort in the Supreme Court's striking down a key provision of the Defense of Marriage Act.The court ruled that the United States cannot have one standard of recognition for some folks who are legally married, but not for others. The court did not go so far as to rule that all states must recognize same-gender marriage, but that, in states where it is legal, partners in same-gender marriages are entitled to the same federal benefits as are different gender partners. Now for the hard part: the communities of faith must take a leadership role in keeping the momentum going. I am hopeful, even, that the church in which I was ordained will have to deal with the unceasing demands of some of its members that justice be served by lifting the ban on same-gender marriages, among other things. United Methodists used to be church folks known for bold actions on human rights. In the last thirty years, we have become shadows of our former selves. We have become acculturated and, in many ways, are being held captive to the religious right. I have spoken out in my church for years on full acceptance of all people, and I am not hopeful that such welcome will occur in my lifetime. So, I will speak out even more loudly, not just for full inclusion of all people, but for bold action on social and environmental justice issues. The prophetic imperative has never been lifted from the church, and we are to act as Christ's agents, to bring peace and equality to any places that we are able. If enough of us strive for change, it cannot help but come. So let's put on our walking shoes and lift high our voices. The Prince of Peace will come, and we can help pave the way!

Looking for a Home

I have been wrestling with my ecclesiastical, but not my Christian, identity for some time now. I was ordained in the United Methodist Church, because that is the church in which I was raised. We tend to remain with the familiar things, people and places in our lives, don't we? There was a time when my denomination and I fit well together. The UMC's historic emphasis upon social justice, inclusiveness and open-mindedness has always had immense appeal for me. We used to highlight John Wesley's so-called "quadrilateral" of scripture, tradition, experience and reason as the building blocks of faith. Then, some in the denomination lobbied to have that changed to scripture, first, with the other elements subservient, and the General Conference made it law. At first glance it makes perfect sense, doesn't it? Why would we not use scripture as our foundation for faith? Wesley knew that scripture alone meant little unless one framed it within the historic creeds of the church, the experience of both the worshiping community and the individual, and serious and studied reflection. My denomination has always made provisions for clergy who are unable to attend seminary to take course of study classes, originally by correspondence, and now through on-line access. But those were the exception, and candidates for ordained ministry were expected to attend theological school after college and receive a grounding in scriptural study, among other courses. My denomination sponsors thirteen graduate schools of theology in which to train clergy, including at places like Duke, Emory, Drew and Boston Universities. However, with more and more people choosing ordained ministry as a second career, folks receive training at whatever schools of theology are close to their homes. As a result, many clergy today were trained at schools reflecting divergent theological traditions that employ a literalistic understanding of scripture, something that historic Methodism never advocated. We have always taken scripture very seriously, as a guide for our religious and spiritual lives, but not as a prescription for a list of do's and don’ts. Thus, I find myself in a denomination in which I feel more and more like a stranger, seeing our historic emphasis upon social justice increasingly superseded by calls for "traditional family values" and "getting tough on crime" and "restoring God to government." Each of those phrases encapsulates a whole set of beliefs worthy of serious discussion, but instead of discussion, scripture passages are thrown around to justify a particular theological bent. At times, there seems to be little tolerance for discussion these days. So, I am looking around, trying to find an ecclesiastical home where I fit. I share this struggle with you because I know there are many folks who find that their religious beliefs sometimes don't line up with those of the majority. One can feel very much alone at times, and perhaps it helps to know that many of us are seeking to find a community that exemplifies the welcoming embrace that the gospels proclaim so forcefully. Serious Bible study yields not a list of forbidden activities, but instead, illuminates a way of life that has as its hallmarks justice, truth and welcome. One would think those elements would be most evident in our churches, but one might be disappointed. Blessings on us all as we make these journeys towards our theological homes.

A Godly Interruption

After putting it away for weeks, I got out the syllabus for the course I am teaching during the fall semester. I last taught this course once a week, for three hours. Now I must adjust it to twice a week, and restructure it as a writing course for first-year students. So, I have been less than anxious to do that tweaking of the syllabus. The course grew out of work I did during my doctoral program. I took a course entitled "The Prophetic Tradition" and is one of just a few courses I have taken in my life that I would call transformative. The professor who taught it is quiet by nature, and the intensive format of the courses in my program meant that we had the class for eight hours a day for five days. I worried that the seminar would be a snooze, and there were times that the days seemed very long. Worst of all, it met in January in western New York. Not only was there three feet of snow, but the days were very short, and, by the time class ended each day, it was almost dark. Thank goodness I stayed with it, because the subject matter of the course, and the quiet, prophetic spirit of the man who taught it worked a miracle in my life. Over the years, I had become a bit disenchanted, and even lazy, when it came to thinking, talking and living out the social justice aspects of the Gospel. I didn't know that I needed the spark that class offered until I was there and knew that something within me had been rekindled. Aside from the excellent course content, I recall a day when one of the master's level students who were also taking the course arrived very late for class. I was annoyed at her noisy entrance, and the class stopped for a moment while she collected herself. She apologized to the professor, stating that she had just received a phone call with some bad news about a friend. He said he understood and then asked the class to join him in a moment of prayer. At that moment, I felt convicted of my hypocrisy and less than understanding heart. Where I could see only an interruption in the class, the professor saw a student who had been wounded and who needed a word of compassion and encouragement. In that moment, I knew that I needed to be more like him, and that I had to be more attentive to those moments that may be an interruption to my schedule, but that were opportunities to illustrate the community of faith's unwavering love for and support of its members. I have never forgotten that lesson, or that professor. I received an email from him last week, telling me that I would not be hearing from him much, because he had been diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease, and he would be saving his energy for immediate tasks that needed doing. At that moment, I whispered a prayer for him, just as he has done for so many over the years, I am sure. I prayed that this quiet, brilliant and giant intellectual of a man will find courage, strength and the support of so many others now that he is traveling down a new path. The course I teach is a tribute to him and his understanding of the true meaning of the gospel message for our world. The prayer was a testimony to his loving and compassionate heart, to one who is not only brilliant, but who best exemplifies wisdom.