I was having a conversation with a dear friend this morning about baseball.
And I was trying to share with her my love for the Pittsburgh Pirates. And she was like, "they are so bad, why would I ever want to root for them?"
And my response? "I love them, precisely because they are so bad. And because they get no love from anywhere but Pittsburgh folks anywhere else in the country."
(Note: This is a story that is loosely based on one line of a text message, many of the details have been changed to preserve my integrity and to prove my point)
And I started to think about how I was perhaps primed from a young age to be on board with social justice issues.
Growing up, my dad was a big fan of the Minnesota Twins, who are the running joke as being one of the worst teams in MLB. And then we moved to West Virginia and I myself became a Pittsburgh Pirates fan. The team, who also has become a running joke among baseball fans.
Neither of these teams has had much luck over the past...oh 20 years or so. They've had some good runs, but what happens - especially with the Pirates is that their star players get traded off by mid-season, and then things fall apart after the All-Star game.
In all this, though, my love for the Pirates has not changed. In fact, I think I love them even more because they are consistently the MLB underdog. They will never be as successful or as popular as the Yankees or the Red Sox (or the White Sox). It's just not going to happen.
But I love them. And I want them to do well and to succeed. And to not be mined out for their best players in such a way that keeps them at the bottom of MLB.
I want them to get respect.
Which is really, what social justice is, at it's heart. It is loving the groups in our society, not because of what they've accomplished - but because they deserve respect and an actual chance to do well and succeed.
Social justice isn't about bringing the top down to the bottom.
It's about bringing the bottom to the top.
It's about giving everyone a chance to play 9 innings, with their best players.
It's about playing by rules that benefit both teams.
Sadly, we live in a world where the rules benefit only one team.
So let's change the rules. Let's make the game actually fair. Let's start treating the other team with dignity and respect.
I mean that's what sportsmanship is all about, isn't it? Being a good sport means crying out that the rules or calls are hurting the other team.
Same with social justice. Being an agent of social justice is, at it's heart, means crying out that the rules are hurting the other team.
Of course, in all this, I am also reminded that God's kingdom isn't necessarily like major league baseball. It's better than that.
It's more like how the kids in The Sandlot play ball. Especially when they're by themselves. There isn't a winner, there isn't a loser.
It's just about playing the game.
God tells us to be childlike, because children - before adults get in the way - don't care about winning and losing. They just want to play the game and have fun.
Let's learn to play together. Let's learn to let go of needing to win - especially us white men - and let's learn to treat all of the other players on the field with the same dignity and respect we (again, as white men) have gotten for our lives.
The following is a guest post by my good friend and brother, Brian Foulks.
The constant rehearsing of the trauma of racism has placed an indelible chasm in the soul of black folks. As we wrestle to understand and try to reconcile, how other Christians can stand around as such heinous crimes were/are being done to black and brown folks. How can Christians care so little about the poor and alienated while condoning the evil rhetoric of a Donald Trump? Yes, I applaud Donald Trump for at least [being] honest about his politics but he is an evil man. How do Christians even justify that black and brown lives are not vehemently abused by society? If you call yourself a believer in Jesus and live out the tenants of the Christian faith, how do you reconcile with such evil?
Racism kills the very essence of love and confines perspectives; there is no growth or progression. You can’t say you’re not racist but sit idly by and not combat racism. You can’t say you’re not racist and think that it is ok to allow poor education and poor healthcare to ravage through black and brown communities.
Racism sucks the life out of organization. It demeans in order to tear down. There is no redeemable quality within racism. Racisms presents a subtle approach but it comes with obvious and intentional outcomes –keep black and brown people poverty. There is nothing accidental about racism. It is an intentional weapon used when the majority finds its status sleeping away.
The mere thought of racial reconciliation is laughable at best. What exactly would this reconciliation mean? Here the words of James Cone,
Reconciliation does not transcend color, thus making us all white. The problem of values is not that white people need to instill values in the ghetto; but white society itself needs values so that it will no longer need a ghetto. Black values did not create a ghetto; white values did. Therefore God’s Word of reconciliation makes us all black. Through this radical change, we become identified totally with the suffering of the black masses. It is this fact that makes all white churches anti-Christian churches in their essence. To be Christian is to be one of those whom God has chosen. God has chosen black people.
Now these words can be easily misconstrued if read through the eyes of racism. But Cone is very simply stating that God is on the side of the” least of these.” Black is not a color but a place where “your heart, your soul, your mind, and your body are where the dispossessed are.” To be Christian in to know what the underside looks like and to feel the pain of the margins. Reconciliation is not just a pathological response of forgiveness but it is a deep intrinsic reframing of one’s authentic God-self.
I love the words that introduce Dr. Yolanda Pierce’s website,
“I am not interested in most conversations about equality. To whom would you like to be equal, given a broken and morally bankrupt system? Do you want to be equal to the persons, forces, and systems which generate the very terms of your oppression? I am, however, interested in the weightier matters of law: justice and freedom. How can we act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly?"
These words echo the sentiments of a generation that’s been disproportionately jailed, harassed, overlooked and abused for the sheer nature of their skin. Honestly, the system is not broken, it is working exactly how it was programed to work. When corrupt people build a system, you can rest assured that the system is corrupt. America was established through corruption, theft and racism and those sins continue to wreak havoc on all people locked “in these yet to be united states.” Maybe KRS-One was right when he rapped, “There can never be justice on stolen land.” There is no simple strategy or words that can make things better overnight. But a collective sorry that is entrenched in justice is a good place to start.
“How can we act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly?- Pierce
If you want to know more about Brian, you can check out his blog or follow him on Twitter. Brian is currently a STM student at Lutheran Theological Southern Seminary in Columbia, SC. His insights have always been important in shaping my understandings of race and Christianity (like above).
What follows are some cursory thoughts, it's certainly not an end all, be all conversation, but rather a lengthened version of Jared's morning coffee musings. A lot comes from what I preached on Sunday and a lot also comes from the following Ted Talk, which I've found to be really interesting and perhaps helpful.
I think the church could stand to learn a little bit about death and resurrection from the LGBTQ community.
And by that, I mean the church should spend some time coming out.
I cannot speak for the whole community, but I can speak about what coming out was like for me. And coming out felt an awful lot like death and resurrection.
When I came out, I had to let a lot of things I previously thought or wanted to believe about myself to death. When I came out, I also got to have a lot of myself resurrected and restored into a new creation.
And while this is a long and interesting story, which I would be happy to share at a later time, I will skip to my main point, which is that the church should spend some time coming out, itself.
And by that, I mean the church needs to let go some ideas of what and who it is, let some ideas about itself die, so that God can resurrect the Body of Christ. You know, that business that God has been in for 2000 years or so.
The church has been telling all sorts of nasty lies about itself, and none of them are really helping the Body of Christ live and thrive.
Lies that include:
We are a church that belongs in authority.
We are a church that has all the answers.
We are the owners of the exclusive path to salvation.
We are the church of the 1950s (ok, so maybe this one belongs to my denomination more than most.)
The list can go on and on.
But the point is, these lies need to go. We need to stop clinging so tightly to them that we choke out any points for us to grow and be transformed into who God is calling us to be.
We need to come out, to stop trying to be those things, and start being who and whose we are, rooted in scripture, tradition, reason, and experience.
We need to stop being something we're not and start being who we have always been created to be.
And maybe, just maybe, when we start doing that, we'll find that we no longer are in a struggle to survive but find ourselves thriving.
That's probably enough rambling for a Tuesday morning. I'm sure this conversation is one that can be held again and again and again.
Cause coming out is a process that you have to do over and over again. Because who we are changes over time as we grow and transform.
So, maybe, just maybe, we should stop being afraid of it and learn to love it?
I know I have learned to love coming out. Why can't the church?
So, after asking the Internet, aka my Facebook friends, I've decided to focus my 40 Frames and 40 Nights Lenten discipline.
I'll be doing the following films, which are fairly easy to stream online.
Dope
Dirty Pretty Things
Beasts of No Nation
Weekend
Tangerine
Blue is the Warmest Color
Monica and David
The following are films that I've found physical copies for, that I also plan on watching during Lent, which I will talk about over the course of the next 40 days as well. However, they are not as easy to stream online.
Chi-Raq
The Skeleton Twins
Saved!
Ill Manors
I know not all of these films are perfect. But I'm going to make a conscious decision for the purpose of this Lenten discipline to not focus on their flaws and how they perpetuate other symptoms of systemic sin in our world. Instead, I'm going to focus my reflections on how each of these films challenge my understanding of how the world works.
This period of giving things up - usually things we ought to give up anyway like chocolate or soda - in order to offer a great big apology to God for messing up during the year has always felt a little off.
That being said, recently I've seen some articles and blog posts being written that highlight taking something on as a Lenten discipline. Things like reading scripture, praying more, exercising, volunteering. All of which are good things, but again, feel like those are things we should be doing on a daily basis, much like saying no to that second piece of chocolate.
As this Lent has approached, I've felt that maybe there's another way. That perhaps there's a way to give up/take on something new, that will be more than an apology, but rather as an intentional way to step outside of myself and my mistakes and focus on the larger human community and the larger human experience.
That is to say, to be more mindful of the ways that I have unwittingly participated in perpetuating larger systems of sin in our world. Those big things, like racism, patriarchy, ableism, and yes, even heteronormativity.
How do I participate in these things the most, you may ask?
Well, like any good investigator, I followed the money. And where did my money trail lead? To movies and television shows. Those two things have been where I've consistently spent my money for several years now.
I took stock of my collection and I noticed a sadly overwhelming theme which is that I was swallowing whole-heartedly the world that Hollywood was trying to sell me. White guy and white girl, guy saves girl, guy gets girl, they live happily ever after with their 2.4 kids in their suburban house (insert my hyperbolic voice here).
So this Lent, I'm going to try something different. I'm going to start spending my time/money/energy watching films that feel unfamiliar to me. The films that challenge my views about how the world works.
Over the next week, I'm going to compile a post with 5 (or more) different movies on it - each movie being one that in some way challenges or tells a story different from the ones most of my movie collection has to offer right now.
I'm going to watch each of these movies and invite you to watch them too so together we can explore a different way of seeing the world.
My hope is that by spending our time/energy with these films, we can learn to celebrate the plurality of the human experience instead of trying to highlight one over and against the others.
Word of Hope Lutheran Church on Sunday, January 17, 2016.
The text for the morning was John 2:1-11.
Everybody loves a good wedding. To be more specific, everyone loves a good wedding reception. There’s dancing, there’s food, there’s family and friends, and a celebration of the love these two people have for each other. And this morning in John, we even see that Jesus, his mother, and the disciples love a good wedding reception too. And we also see that weddings where the Son of God are in attendance are not exempt from the cardinal rule of any social gathering - something will go wrong.
And in this instance, what went wrong was pretty terrible for a wedding in 1st century Israel. They ran out of wine. Now I was at some dear friends’ wedding a few years ago where they also ran out of wine. Now it was no big deal, mostly because that particular group of friends are extremely goofy when we all get together. We just had some soda and laughed and danced the night away. This is not the case for 1st century Jewish weddings. Wine was pretty much the only beverage you could serve and when the wine was out, the party was over.
And this isn’t a party that was only supposed to last for a few hours, this was a party that was supposed to last for at least a week. Maybe more, depending on how wealthy the family was that got married. Anything less would have been shameful and seen as a bad omen for the future of that marriage. So, for the wine to run out on day 3? Not a good sign at all.
And then after an interesting exchange with his mother, Jesus ultimately gives the family more wine, but he does it in one of those subtle, sneaky ways, that allows the family to keep their dignity and social standing. You know, like Jesus does. And then the author tells us that this was the first of Jesus’ signs that he performed in Galilee.
And then we’re left scratching our heads going, well sure, that’s impressive, but if it’s a sign what does it mean? Does it mean that Jesus likes to party? Does it mean that Jesus is a great social equalizer? Does it mean Jesus sanctions weddings? Does it mean that Jesus is a reluctant hero? Does it mean there’s always going to be wine? Is it a sign that this wedding is going to be great? What does it mean, Jesus? What does it mean?
So let’s look at the rest of the signs that Jesus does in John. There’s a lot of healing, and feeding, and even some raising from the dead. So what do they all point to? I think these are signs that give us a glimpse at what life will look like in the kingdom of God. There’s a lot of grace, there’s plenty of food, there’s no more illness, there’s no more pain, there’s no more grief, and there’s no more dying. I think it’s safe to say these are all good things.
But really, let’s unpack why it might be important for this wonderful wine at a wedding to be considered a sign of God’s kingdom that is coming and breaking into the world. Why a wedding and not, say one of the big religious festivals? Why would Jesus want to use the occasion of a wedding to show what the kingdom of God will be like?
Well, one, because as I said before wedding receptions are kind łof awesome. But also. Throughout scripture, God’s relationship with the people of God has been likened to that of an old married couple. God’s language of faithfulness is very similar to the language we use in our wedding vows now. God’s promises are ones of fidelity and faithfulness through good and bad, God promises to care for God’s people, without hope or expectation of anything in return and God’s people make those promises in return - even though they don’t always know what those promises mean. God even used the prophet Hosea’s marriage as very tangible metaphor for God’s relationship with God’s people.
And it doesn’t stop there, there is still more scripture that refers to the kingdom of God as the marriage feast of the lamb. And throughout the early Christian tradition there is reference to the church being the bride of Christ. That we, the people of God are in this beautiful, holy, loving relationship with God that knows no end and that in the end of times, we’ll all be attending this magnificent wedding reception to celebrate that love that God has for us and we for God.
Which finally brings us back to Jesus, wine, and small town weddings in backwoods Israel. For in this wedding of what was likely a poor couple, Jesus shows his disciples and us what the wedding feast at the end of time is going to look like. Jesus turns around 180 gallons of water into wine. Really good wine to boot. Now 180 gallons is kind of hard to comprehend. That’s enough wine for this party to keep going for at least a year. And not just for those invited to the party, but for everyone in the village of Cana to join in the celebration for a year. And in doing so, Jesus shows us a couple of things.
The first thing that Jesus shows us is that this a wedding feast that will not end. There will be more than enough of the best of everything for all of us. There will be plenty of wine for those who choose to drink, but there will also be plenty of food. And because it’s heaven and I love food, I imagine it will be only the best food. There will be burgers and hot wings, and fish and steak, and Indian buffets and Thai food, and Chinese take out food. And you can eat as much of it as you want without getting fat! Heaven.
The second thing that Jesus teaches us is that the wedding feast is filled with grace upon grace. That even when we think there’s enough, God will give us even more. God will offer more than we think we deserve and more. God’s love and faithfulness to us will just keep flowing and flowing, much like the wine did at this party. And not only will that grace keep coming at us, each time we experience it, it will be better than the last. God’s grace is without end.
And the third thing that Jesus’ sign at Cana teaches us is that all are welcome at the wedding feast. There is more than enough for all to be able to partake. There’s enough food and wine for everyone in the village to join in the Cana couple’s celebration and there’s enough food and drink for the whole world to join in God’s celebration. All are welcome and all are invited to the table. And the best part is, God promises that those three things won’t ever change - it’s all a part of that covenant God made with us. Amen.
This morning during daily prayer we sang "Were You There?"
At first I thought it was an odd choice for Advent, as we long for Christmas and the joy of Christ coming into the world.
But as we kept singing, I kept thinking about why we would sing this now, when we usually sing it in Lent.
And then it hit me. Because while Christmas is a time for joy and celebration, and Advent is a time where we long for God to break into the world in a bold and exciting way once more, we cannot remember what happened when Jesus Christ got here and was born.
I mean, after all the cute baby stuff.
When Jesus started to grow up, he began to preach a message of the Kingdom of God at hand here and now.
He began to heal the sick. He cast out demons. He taught grace and forgiveness. He opposed religiosity and hypocrisy. He opposed the accumulation of wealth and power. He talked to women, to Gentiles, and said the good news of God was for them too!
And what was the world's response to this child who was born in a manger and looked really cute for about 5 min before the reality of human flesh sunk in?
The world killed him.
Not that death stopped Jesus or could have stopped God, but for humanity, killing someone is the ultimate rejection of them and what they have to offer.
So, even though death was not the end for Jesus' message and God's plan for our lives. Let's remember that as we get ready for Christmas. As we cry Maranatha, Come Lord Jesus.
We might not be so eager to actually hear what grown up Baby Jesus has to say to us about the state of the world.
