A Film You Don't Want to See, but Must!

Several months ago, my wife and I came across a documentary on HBO entitled "How to Die in Oregon." It was described as a film that follows several folks who were terminally ill as they made decisions about their care, and mode of death, some involving Oregon's "Right to Die" law. So, of course, I tuned in. The film was inspiring, shattering, heartbreaking...in other words, my kind of movie! We noticed that it then disappeared from HBO's broadcast schedule, and I could find it nowhere. On a hunch, I contacted the producer and asked it the film would be available anytime soon. Sure enough, it was to be released during the first week of October. I placed my order, the film arrived and I screened it for my death and dying class. They were quite reserved after viewing, even more than they usually are. However, one can understand their understated response in light of the emotional wallop that the film delivers. I have viewed the film three times, and have searched for every review of it that I could find. Most of the reviews have been very positive. I found a review in a conservative Christian magazine, and, as might be expected, the reviewer was lukewarm in his opinion of the film, and seemed to not be able to get past the whole idea of "death with dignity". As a result, he did not deal with the film in any meaningful way. This is evident because he does not even mention the name of a person who became the centerpiece of the film. Cody Curtis was a professional woman, a wife and mother who was given a terminal diagnosis after a recurrence of liver cancer. She and her family allowed the producer of the film into their lives during the final year of her life. Her gentle nature, honesty, and wide-eyed wonder of the illness and its unpredictable course would have been enough to insure that her image remains with a viewer for a long time. But it is the grace with which she dealt with her illness, and the love that she exemplifies for her family and friends that takes a hold and won't let go. I do not know if she professed any faith tradition, and it does not matter to me if she did, or did not. In the glimpse of her life offered in the film I saw perhaps one of the greatest examples that I have witnessed of someone giving flesh and bone to Jesus' promise that those who are poor in spirit will be truly blessed. She approached the end of her life with a dignity, humility, honesty and wisdom that are far from commonplace. I hope that during the rest of my life, and in my dying, I may remember her life and exemplify even a small portion of her grace.

Enough to Send Us Running - Isaiah 45:1 - 7

The Hebrew Bible lesson this week describes how King Cyrus, a Persian, became, for a little while, the holder of the title, "Messiah." Indeed, in Isaiah 45:1, Cyrus is referred to as "anointed one." Whoa there! How does Persia, long an enemy of Israel, get to produce a messiah? Well, think of it as "acting messiah." I work on a college campus where we have acting Deans and Directors somewhere, in some division, almost all the time. They hold the position and title while a person for the permanent position is being sought. So it was with Cyrus: he was a placeholder for the real anointed one, a port in a storm, if you will. The Israelites who had been exiled to Babylon longed to return home, at least, many of them did. Cyrus became the instrument by which God was able to accomplish that feat. I have seen the color drain from the faces of folks when I ask them if they have ever heard that the Wonderful Counselor, Mighty King  that is spoken about in Handel's "Messiah" might have been referring to King Cyrus. We are so used to projecting everything in the Hebrew Bible forward onto Jesus that we can barely entertain the idea that the writer of Isaiah may have been writing about someone else, at least in the case of chapter 45. After all, if some yahoo from Persia could get to be an instrument of God just by allowing some of the residents in a country he had just conquered to go home, then anybody anywhere at any time could have a chance to be an instrument of God. Yikes! That is about as frightening a thought as we are likely to have, ever! If God would choose to use as as instruments, it might mean that our schedules would be thrown into chaos. We like the predictability of our lives, don't we? Our routines are sacred times, and they are ingrained into us and we feel comfortable there. One need not read very far in the Hebrew Bible or New Testament until the idea that God likes to upset comfortable lives becomes readily apparent. We don't know what Cyrus thought of the whole thing, though we do know that he possessed a very healthy ego. Not long after conquering Babylon, Cyrus allowed all exiled peoples to return to their homelands.  The version of this edict on the famous Cyrus cylinder states, "I am Cyrus, king of the world, great king, legitimate king, king of Babylon." However, in Isaiah's account, God's attributes are listed numerous times, with Cyrus being mentioned by name only twice. In the eyes of Isaiah, Cyrus was the actor, but God was the writer, stage manager and director. Cyrus was the icing, God was the cake. In a time in America when political egos are larger than ever, and politicians of a certain ilk are only too happy to proclaim their divine credentials, the story of King Cyrus is a cautionary tale. Cyrus was probably the most powerful guy on the planet in his day. But he gets only brief mention in the story of faith, because he was an almost accidental tourist on the itinerary of stops on the way to the coming of the Kingdom of God. What would we give to make such an impact on the lives of the faithful where we live? And why don't we make such an impact?

The Same Old Story?

I attended a discussion the other night entitled "Are Christianity and Homosexuality Incompatible?" There was a large contingent of students from a gay-straight alliance on campus, many from an evangelical Christian group, and a few from the more progressive Christian group that actually sponsored the event. I slipped into the role of moderator, since it was obvious that we needed one. The discussion was civil, but the old underlying tension caused by the slogan, "Love the sinner, hate the sin" was alive and well. It was clear within a very short time that there was a wall that would not be breached: there are those who interpret scripture literally, and those who do not. When that reality interjects itself, forward progress almost always ceases. I often feel embarrassed when GLBT people attend a discussion where Christianity's views are debated. If Christians are supported, others will say that they do not respect the authority of scripture. If other Christians condemn homosexual activity based on their understanding of scripture, they are perceived as bigoted. Is there a way out of this morass? I wish I knew. There are progressive Christians, and by that, I mean Christians who see their faith as a way forward to heal a broken world. Undoubtedly, many conservative Christians see their faith in a similar way. However, the brand of evangelical Christianity that is most familiar in America as reported through the media, is a type of faith that insists that the world conform to a standard based upon a literal understanding of scripture. I read recently an article that asserted that literal interpretation of scripture is really only about three hundred years old, and that, before that, Christians used scripture in its richest form.  They looked to scripture for inspiration and guidance, not as a step-by-step book of rules and prohibitions. During our campus discussion, it was evident that some of the students who insisted on a literal interpretation of scripture had no other basis for their faith, should that lone pillar be removed. Other, more moderate Christians tried to make the argument that scripture is really not relevant to the discussion. In that case, the baby went out with the bath water! I left the meeting discouraged, because I realized that I have seen no forward movement, at least on this issue, among the conservative group of students who was there, during the entire time that I have been at this institution. And I am very frustrated with students whose views are more inclusive and welcoming, but who will not take the time and exert the effort to be a part of the discussions. I realize that this dynamic reflects the larger society as a whole. Our more progressive mainline churches will continue to falter and disappear, because they cannot capture, and hold, the attention of the populace with a message that Christ messes with the "common theology" of twenty-first century America. Unless one embraces a restrictive view of Christianity, that promises a payoff for few, after this life, what is the upside? Who wants to practice a faith that espouses acceptance of people different from oneself and a throwing open of the doors to all who will come, as they are. Yes, there ARE standards for Christian living, and they are not for everyone. But to insist that one change an in-born or acquired sexual orientation just for admission to the flock is to demand that one sell one's soul not to God, but to those who have set themselves up as God's gatekeepers. No one wins.

It Must Make Us Feel Better

Troy Davis was executed last night, after a last minute flurry of activity to spare his life by staying his execution. But, if Americans have shown anything, it is that they will not be denied their revenge. It's not as if Troy Davis did anything to us, personally. But, he was a convicted murderer, and, perhaps owing to our "wild west" mentality, those who kill must be killed. Never mind that, in the years since his conviction for the crime, seven of nine witnesses recanted their stories. It does not matter that physical evidence linking him to the crime was never discovered. It is not about guilt beyond a reasonable doubt, because there was certainly reasonable doubt in his case. I don't know if he committed the crime for which he was charged, or not. But I do know that there was enough doubt about his guilt that he never should have been executed. But, it does not matter in America, because we are a people who love to exact revenge. Look at the films that we view. Look at the violence in them, and the vicarious sense of sweet revenge we get from them when the bad guys get what they deserve. Have you ever noticed how many Christians are among those holding signs outside prisons whenever an execution is scheduled? One knows that they are Christians because they carry signs proclaiming that fact, they wear crosses, and they are happy to tell any who will listen that they are Christian. What is often missing from that tableau is a reporter who asks a Christian how he or she can mesh their belief in capital punishment with their Christian faith. One will always see signs reminding us of "an eye for an eye."  Again, why does no one ever ask about the rest of that verse, about how Jesus ended the thought. He said that we are to turn the other cheek, which is also greatly misunderstood, but that's for another day's blog entry. Recently, Ray Krone, a convicted murderer was on our campus. You may wonder how we were able to arrange for a convicted murderer to appear on our campus. Ray was convicted of raping and murdering a waitress and was sentenced to death and placed on Arizona's death row. Just as Troy Davis did, Ray protested his conviction and asserted his innocence. However, in Ray's case, annoying evidence of his innocence began to appear, and re-appear. No matter how loudly the prosecutor proclaimed Ray's guilt, the voices proclaiming his innocence would not be silenced. Finally, justice was won and Ray was released from prison after DNA evidence exonerated him. Troy Davis was willing to take a polygraph test yesterday, but he was not permitted to do so. There was no way that the state of Georgia was going to be denied its pound of flesh. Another execution was carried out in Texas last night, and still another is scheduled for tonight in Alabama. Americans love executions, they love wild-west justice, they love revenge. And, to this point in time, no state has agreed to allow the filming of an execution, and one has to wonder why. If state-sanctioned executions are such a great idea, would we not wish to show them off? One would think that politicians who run on a platform of getting tough on crime would want to show an execution so that folks know that they are serious. I am guessing that we will never see a televised execution, because it would reveal that the emperor has no clothes. If folks could see the cool and calculated premeditation that goes along with the process for themselves, they just might be horrified, having a difficult time differentiating what the convicted murderer did from that which the state did to the murderer. Troy Davis may have been innocent, but it does not mater now. Those calling for revenge still shout louder than those calling for justice. And those calling for revenge, in the name of God, remain deaf to their folly.

A Parable We Love to Hate Matthew 20:1 - 16

I have found that, sometimes, the hardest medicine to take, theologically, is an occasion when a saying or parable of Jesus can cause some embarrassment when telling it to another. Such is the case with the parable of the landowner and workers found in Matthew's gospel. I cannot count the times when students, and others, have reacted to the story with cries of "That's not fair" and "those guys got a raw deal." Indeed, if we read the story with our everyday eyes, we will be left unsatisfied, with a lingering discomfort. And, God forbid, that anything in scripture should make American Christians uncomfortable. I wonder if a survey would show that the most popular churches today are those where the uncomfortable side of Christian discipleship is emphasized? I wouldn't count on that. Matthew's parable flies in the face of every value we are taught about the rewards of hard work and honesty. Should those who worked for just one hour receive the same wage as those who worked for twelve hours? Well, look at the deal the landowner made with each worker: a day's wage for work completed. So, did he lie to anyone? No, he offered exactly what he had promised. So, then, why all of the grumbling? Perhaps because of one human trait that has not changed in the course of two thousand years: we love extra credit for working hard. We expect it from our employers, and my students expect it from me. The men who worked twelve hours had agreed to do so for a day's wage, an amount of money that would enable them to survive for a day. When they saw that the last hired were given that wage, they imagined that they were due some extra incentive, because they had worked  a full day, not just one hour. I have read a commentary, or two, that accuse the landowner of being a sadistic power-hungry cretin who liked nothing better than to remind the populace of his superiority. Really? Come on now. First, we must remember that this story is a parable, not an historical account of a true event. And second, Jesus was trying to convey an important message: God's order is not always consistent with our order. What is the real point of this story? In the words of William Loader, of the Uniting Church in Australia, "The story opens new vistas. The employer kept the contract he had made with the first hired but also gave the last hired what they needed to live. The last hired received their denarius, their living. Viewed from this perspective the practice comes close to what for us is a norm: unemployment benefit, making sure people have enough to live on. A different standard is applied: need, not earning rights. To view it in this way puts many things in a new perspective. It does not smooth out all the rough edges, but it is enough to open the door to a different way of thinking." In other words, the landowner gave the workers what they needed, not necessarily what the wanted or thought they deserved. Imagine the effect on the silly season of American politics if those running for public office were to promise the populace to find ways to procure for them what they need, not what they want. And does it strike anyone else as in-congruent that, those candidates who claim to have the strongest Christian credentials are the very people who resent "entitlements?" The parable cuts through such nonsense and teaches a lesson about giving people not what they deserve, but what they need. A parable we love to hate? Very likely. A parable we desperately need to hear in this politically and theologically shallow time in which we live? For certain.

A Fitting September 11th Observance

Though I should not be surprised, I was caught a bit off-guard when our local news station began Monday's newscast with about seven minutes worth of stories relating to Sept. 11th. They then direct folks to their website and assure us that they will offer "continuing coverage" regarding the World Trade Center attacks all week long. And so we jump headlong into media saturation of an event that occurred ten years ago. We set up markers for ourselves, usually in multiples of five, to commemorate significant events. For some reason, ten seems much bigger as it relates to September 11th than did the fifth anniversary. I must offer a disclaimer here and admit that, for my family, September 11th is a day of mixed blessings which count more for us on a personal level that does commemorating the World Trade Center attacks. Our son was born on September 11th, and from that time forward it has always been an immensely joyful day around our house. Our children are our greatest gift, and so their observances come first. Conversely, my father died on September 11th, on our son's eighteenth birthday. So, for me, the day is about blessing and loss on a most personal level. Nonetheless, I realize the magnitude of the day for the general population. For that reason, I knew that I would plan an interfaith worship service for that day, since this will be the tenth anniversary. The service is full of readings from diverse religious traditions, affirmations of faith and prayers for peace. Only for a moment, at the beginning of the service will we look backwards, and remember. After that, we will give thanks for the tapestry of people and religious traditions that compose our campus community. I have taught a course on death, dying and bereavement for many years, so I know well the various ways in which people grieve, both individually, and corporately. Some folks will arrive at some kind of closure regarding personal losses, others will find it much more difficult. My discomfort with the various ways in which the media will play and replay the images from September 11, 2001 is that it will serve mostly to remind us of our differences, and of those responsible for the attacks. I hope I am wrong and that the coverage shows, instead, the ways in which the survivors have grown over the years and have used their tragic losses as an energizing force to work for understanding. If one remembers the hoopla made a couple of years ago about the mosque that was planned for a site several blocks from, and not even within the sight of, Ground Zero, one knows that we have a long way to go in ceasing to marginalize those whose beliefs and dress may be different from our own. I pray that this tenth anniversary will cause all of us to stop and reflect and to give thanks to a faithful God who does not desert us in our grief and anger, but points us to new avenues of understanding and service.

ABLC

In United Methodist ecclesiastical language, the term for people like me who serve in ministries other than the local church used to be Appointed Beyond the Local Church, or ABLC. For years, I was used to being referred to by that moniker. When I was asked to address the clergy session of my annual conference about what it means to be an ABLC, I told them, tongue-in-cheek, that I believed that most folks believed that ABLC stood for Another Brother Left the Church. There was uproarious laughter, and I knew that I had hit a nerve. I pleaded with them to refer to us as pastors, because we have never stopped serving out our callings as such. Imagine my disappointment when, upon reading minutes of that meeting, I discovered that the conference secretary stated "John Colatch gave an informative presentation on ABLC's."
I have been reading Dick Van Dyke's autobiography, My Lucky Life, In and Out of Show Business. I was surprised to read that he had been very active in his Presbyterian Church during the height of his fame in the 1960's. It was refreshing to read that someone remained a part of a faith community, even when he was part of a working culture that was far removed from any overt talk of religious life. He spoke of the time when his pastor left to serve another church, and he was part of a group of members suggesting that their all-white church extend an invitation to a local African-American congregation to share worship services and hospitality. Van Dyke recounts the opposition that arose to the suggestion and it was voted down. He states that he left his church, and organized religion at that point, and has never returned.
It is all too common in this country that, when people are disappointed if something goes wrong in the local church, they cut and run and disavow any connection with any church or organized religious body.
The biblical witness tells of prophets who disagreed strongly with their religious leaders and structures, and yet, they remained true to the faith and worship of their tradition, trying to create change from within. The American Christian Church has become so accommodating that, when leaders in the church do take a prophetic stand, the members flee, until they find another body that conforms with what they already believe. Or, they simply drop out and disparage all talk of religious and faith. I work in an academic community and know well the fashionable agnosticism that arises from such cases.
I was really disappointed that Dick Van Dyke left his church, because the church needed his prophetic spirit to go against the racism that was institutionalized. If only he had continued to work for justice within the faith community. He certainly has done do from outside, and he is to be admired for his commitment. Our young adults need mentors in their faith communities who can serve as examples of what it means to work for change from within. It is so easy to cut and run, and I see the results of this all of the time in students whose families decided against raising them in any faith tradition, even though the parents were raised in one. Another Brother/Sister Left the Church. And soon, there were none.