Riding The Bus

“Falseness often lurks beneath fair hair.” - Danish Proverb

Almost 53 years ago, on December 1, 1955, a young woman's bus ride began that would land the first black man on the steps of the White House on Pennsylvania Ave, not as a servant, but as President of the United States. Though not the first person, Rosa Parks refused the command of a Montgomery bus driver to give up her seat for a white person, and thus was born the civil rights movement in this country.

Black churches around the country soon galvanized and began to launch staging points for protests, and rallies, and voter turn out, generating both support, but more likely hatred, from the white community. None of us should forget the bombing of the 16th Street Baptist Church, the water hoses and police dogs, Bull Conner and the beating of the Freedom Riders right here in our fair city.

Nonetheless, the black church now had a mission: To point out and rectify the social, economic, and legal injustice that plagued the country from its founding: slavery and inequality was wrong for all but blacks. Black pastors decried the unjust system from their pulpits, organized marches, and thought through strategies on ways to change the system, sometimes through legal means, and other times through violence.

These pastors adopted many of the thoughts, theology, and actions of Liberation Theology, a movement originating in the Roman Catholic Church in South America in the 60's and 70's. This movement, a hybrid of Christian Theology and Marxism, held to the tenet that Jesus came to "free the prisoners and release the oppressed." It is the job of the people, and the church, they say, to force its government to recognize and deliver rights to the oppressed, and bring about the equality that Jesus came to give. From MLK's nonviolent marches to the Black Panthers and Weather Underground's violent protests and acts, change was going to be forced on the American people. The revolution was here.

Thus was born the liberal social movement, or revolution, in our country.

This Christian "revolution" would shortly transform the American political landscape, giving us the Rainbow/Push Coalition, the NAACP, Rev. Jesse Jackson, Rev. Al. Sharpton and most recently Rev. Jeremiah Wright and host of other less well known preachers. Race and equality would be subsumed in the larger context of ever broadening "rights" together with correspondingly decreased personal responsibility. The movement ultimately left even its loose theological roots to become nothing more than community organizing for every cause that could bring them to power.

But never fear, for while all this was going on, real Christian Americans, a/k/a white, middle class Christian Americans, moved by the spirit, organized and would not be outdone politically. Strangely silent during the equal rights marches of the 50s and 60s, they were content to maintain the most segregated hour in America, 11:00 AM on Sunday morning. But this liberal social agenda was more than they could bear.

In the late 70s and early 80s, such stalwart and fundamentally godly men like the late Rev Jerry Falwell, TV evangelist Pat Robertson, and men like W.A. Criswell, Adrien Rogers, and others within the Southern Baptist Convention formulated the Moral Majority and Christian Coalition. The marches of the 50s and 60s, and the riot at the '68 Democratic Convention weren't enough to dislodge them from their complacency, but the loss of political power and the rise of threats to the conservative white church made them realize they had to be organized as well.

And so it would be theirs to let America know, through the ballot box, what Christians are against.

Credited with Ronald Reagan's big victory over Jimmy Carter in 1980, the sheer numbers of God's people on the right made a formidable political ally, and opponent, for some twenty five years, culminating with the re-election of George W. Bush in 2004. The work of God through the evangelical right (as opposed to the evangelical left, which is primarily black churches) is to paint the opposing party (ie Democratic) candidate, position, initiative or plan as un-Christian, Marxist, and or satanic. The woes of America, they would proclaim, exist because of godless morality, none more godless than the current political opponent (ie Mondale, Dukakis, Clinton, Kerry, and Obama). Christians had to stand up and tell godlessness to go away, or this sacred country would fall.

They stirred white Christians with the promise that "if my people will humble themselves and pray, then God will hear from heaven and heal their land." Obviously, the United States of America is God's gift to the world, and as Christians it is the Church's job to protect God's gifts. Wrap God in the American flag, and the true American candidate in God, and you have a winning formula. Who would dare vote against God?

Politically savvy, this "Moral Majority" would energize their own base to go vote with a host of initiatives that Christians are against. Christians gave little thought to why ballot initiatives such as gay marriage amendments and readily accessible abortions initiatives appeared on the ballot in swing states at the same time as a presidential election. All they know is they needed to be there to make sure they voted God's way. Oh, and while there, they should also pull the lever for God's man to be in office.

Apparently, God needed a little help to get His man elected, because the power of the heathen left is too much for God to handle by His lonesome.

And in the midst of all this, Satan laughed. The fog of god-talk on both sides left the church in the lurch. So caught up in the politics of the moment the two groups forgot that they each proclaim a common tie: an abiding faith in Jesus Christ. Their political agendas of social liberalism and conservative Christianity had overwhelmed their doctrine.

The right called into question the faith of the left by asking, "how can any Christian be for equality and social justice for people like that?" and the left responds, appropriately, "how could any Christian be against equality and social justice for anyone, regardless of who they are and what they have done?"

The right wanted to turn the church into the country, and the left wanted to turn the country into the church.

But if Christ died to give the world the United States of America, then for over 1700 years, He failed. But perhaps democracy was not what he had in mind after all, but rather a church rooted in Him and built up. Perhaps it was the church He died for that was to be the the place the world should look when oppression and injustice become too much to bear?

Paul said in Colossians 3:11-17, in speak of our duty as Christians:

Here there is no Greek or Jew, circumcised or uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave or free, but Christ is all, and is in all. Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity. Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom, and as you sing psalms, hymns and spiritual songs with gratitude in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.

The church has flourished in times of governmental adversity, and decayed in times of governmental consent. One need only look at the church during the reign of the wrathful Roman emperors and in modern day China and compare it to the Church during the inquisition, the reformation, and World War II. We have reached the day where being a good American and a good Christian are synonymous.

The church, whether on the right or the left, should remember that a resort to politics to bring about the Kingdom of God is a damning statement that the church has failed. It is a damnable statement to say that there is no hope in Christ, only in governments led by failed and corrupt people.

In the violence of the world, the hurricanes of injustice and inequality will ebb and flow. But among God's people, the church, there is to be haven and safety, acceptance and peace. Not to change the world, but rather because of changed hearts that provide shelter.

While the government is important to all of our lives, it is the church, not the United States of America, where one should look to find equality, hope, love, support and wisdom. Our hope is in Christ, and not the constitution.

Regardless of the government, the church should be the one place where something is done because it is the right thing to do.

On Tuesday, November 4, 2008, we have the government-created right to elect a leader of this country, and one which we as God's people should exercise. No matter who it is you vote for, that choice will be a selfish one in which you will decide who will make you most comfortable with the future unknowns.

But in the end, Christ's kingdom is not on the line, and we wield no power over God's sovereign plan for His people. A vote for Obama is not a vote against God, nor is a vote for McCain a vote for God. Our witness to the truths of Christ is not found in our political record, but how we love one another.

Its His bus, and like Rosa Parks, we are just along for the ride.

Perhaps Rosa would have done more for our country by sitting on the front pew of the First Baptist Church of Montgomery.

But then again, perhaps it is easier to find justice and equality in courts and governments than in the church.

4theluv

Forever Young

"Take care of all your memories, for you cannot relive them." - Bob Dylan

It is funny how age sneaks up on you.

In many ways, 1980 seems like ancient history. And to many of the "kids" in our church, it is. We have deacons who were not even born then, and elders who were still learning how to zip and tie shoes. The year 2000 might as well have been a millenia away, and no one (including, apparently, Bill Gates) worried about Y2K bugs. In the immediate past of that time lay the musical tragedy of disco, and the future held the equally disturbing "hair bands." (Save the comments - you will not convince me that the hair bands were good music.)

For a kid growing up in the farmlands of middle America, the journey to the present now seems completely unlikely. The small (and I do mean small) bedroom community of my youth now seems impossibly distant to me. A kid of 15, in my future lay marriage, children and a host of challenges that, though now in my past, would have seemed insurmountable to me at the time.

Though the memories are hazy, I can recall the days of sitting around at my friend Van's house, listening to Led Zepplin, Pink Floyd, and the Stones. Occasionally, Marc would come over with his Van Halen albums (yes , they were all LP's, vinyl, you know, those large usually black things you had to put on a turntable connected to your HiFi.) and we would humor him and listen to them. There were no bills to pay, mortgages to feed, kids to shuttle.

It is amazing how quickly time passes. Those days you thought would never end are all suddenly gone. And then one day you wake up and life is real. You have places to be, and you are no longer responsible just for you, but for spouses, children, parents, co-workers, and employees. The complexities of the now replace the simplicities of youth.

It would be easy to glorify the life of my youth. I had a good youth, but it was not always simply good times with friends, with no pain or reality to interfere. Even now I can look and see some of the scars that life has given through those years, both physical and mental. I can look at my hand and see a scar I got fighting with Philip Bellew over some girl we both liked. (We were friends again a few days later.) I can see Eddie Carter and Ingrid Collin's faces, classmates and occasional friends who passed away in car accidents during high school. I can see John's face, a much closer friend whose death still fills me with regret and a real sense of personal guilt.

By and large, though, my youth was relatively trouble free and carefree. God has given us the blessing of time, which seems to force us to remember the best, and forget the rest. (Or perhaps it forces us to remember it as better than it was?) And that is why, mentally, it is such a pleasant time to go back and remember, even though those memories have faded.

It is funny, though, how some things can bring those memories flooding back vividly. A few weeks ago, listening to Stokes, Connie and Adam sing a song written by Adam, was one of those moments. Music, for some reason, seems to transport us at times to other places and to other memories. And Adam, Connie and Stoke's singing took me back to those simpler days of my youth. Suddenly, I was vividly the age of 14, sitting in Van's house with the guys and listening to the new Bob Dylan album that Van had bought. And what a great album it was - Dylan's "Slow Train Coming."

I have written about it before, but it is worth me saying again: Bob Dylan, absolutely the most brilliant musical and literary talent in modern history and all around coolest rocker ever, was writing, playing, and singing gospel music. For a kid who liked music for the words and sounds, Dylan's gospel drip would later turn to a river. (Van hated the album, and gave it to me.)

Searching YouTube the other day, I once again had one of those moments. I was transported back to those days. Take a listen to Dylan's "In the Garden" from his "Saved!" album of 1981.



If you watched it closely, you would have noticed that Dylan's back up band for that tour was Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers. Pretty amazing. The contrast of a dystopian hard rocker Dylan singing about the crucifixion of Christ, backed up by Tom Petty, is to me poetic, and humbling. And what great memories they make.

Paul said it this way: Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. Phil. 4:8.

Those moments in my youth, and in my present, are pure moments. And those moments will continue. We will continually build a lifetime of memories. And it is nice to walk those paths every once in a while and recall them, but I would not trade the responsibilities and relationships God has given me now for those days. And I know years from now, I will turn my hearing aid up and listen to some whippersnappers sing or preach, and a smile will come across my face as I rememer Stokes, Connie and Adam's song, and the perfectness of that moment in worship.

As a church, we have much to be thankful for, and many memories are being made in our midst. Memories that will be eternal.

Take care of your memories, because you cannot relive them. Thanks for tolerating me while I share mine.

4theluv

P.S. - Burt - it is time for you to use your Wonder Elder powers and force Stokes, Connie and Adam, at gunpoint if necessary, to record that song and post it in .mp3 on the church website.

Singing with the Midnight Choir

"Nothing ain't worth nothin', but its free" - Kris Kristofferson

In the 1970's, Larry Gatlin wrote a song which many Christian found offensive. (Strange, because Gatlin himself, even then, professed a strong faith in Christ.) When you really read the words to "The Midnight Choir", it is both convicting and troublesome:

The doors to the mission open at seven.
And the soup will be ready about nine.
Right now its six-thirty, they're ragged and dirty,
they're standing, and sitting, and laying in line.

First they'll do a little singing,
then hear a little preaching.
Then get saved for the third time this week.
A bowl of soup later and a pat on the shoulder,
and by midnight they're back on the street.

They walk to the corner of Fourth Street and Broadway,
then take the first alley on the right.
One of them asks a stranger, "How 'bout a hand",
and he gives it one finger at a time.

Then they spot an old buddy with a bottle of heaven,
then pass around what means everything.
One bottle for four, thank God, someone scored!
Now the Midnight Choir starts to sing...

"Will they have Mogen David in heaven?
Dear Lord, we'd all like to know.
Will they have Mogen David in heaven,
Sweet Jesus, if they don't, who the hell wants to go!"

On many levels, this song is convicting. It portrays the world view of the homeless and alcoholic men and how they see what others do to them. Well meaning people open the soup kitchen to feed these men. But that bowl of soup comes with strings attached. They are expected to accept Christ. For the problems of these men have a simplistic solution - what these men need is a good sermon, a good invitation, a bowl of soup and a pat on the shoulder and their world will be changed. You can almost here the Sunday report, "We had fifteen saved this week at the shelter!" as if what happened that week was a powerful show of the Gospel. Then they are sent back into the harsh realities of the world to face the cold nights and the rejection of society.

In reality, or at least in my realty, Christians are often seen as only willing to invest a few hours of time to assuage their own guilt toward those who are beneath them socially, and completely unwilling to invest their lives for these strangers in any meaningful and long lasting way. They have given them nothing of value, but the warmth of a bowl of soup on a single night and pronounced them whole. (You can start feeling guilty now.)

You can also see how these homeless men view salvation, or at least the profession of it, as a ticket to their nightly meal. Sufficient numbers of them must profess Christ each night in order that all may partake in the soup that will be offered at the conclusion. In short, profession of faith is the price of admission to dinner, much like the waiter bringing the check to the table after dinner.

While I realize the song is fictional, it is convicting for me of my attitude toward those in need. I often overlook their immediate needs (dinner, a clean bed, a bath, a friend, etc.,) for what *I* think they really need - which is, obviously, a profession of faith in Christ. At least, I can say, I have done something for their eternal destiny even if I ignore their immediate destiny - a back alley at Fourth and Broadway.

I also realize that I am often the guy, who when asked to give a hand, gives it one finger at a time. I can honestly say I have never flipped off a homeless guy. I also don't tend to judge them. (I am smart enough to realize that they are not stupid enough to be in the position they are in without at least trying something different.) When I see them downtown, I often wonder about their past and what they have experienced that led them to the point in their lives where they accepted the fate to live under the overpass. But I must also confess that I have never helped a homeless guy off the street, nor tried to help them to reach a more stable way of living. Yes, I can be made to feel guilty and convicted for how little I do to ease the problems of those less fortunate than me. But there is no way that I do enough (whatever "enough" is).

But the song is troubling to me for this reason: While these fictional men are concerned about the deep theological question of whether there will be "Mogen David" in heaven (serious theologians know its going to be Dom Perignon with caviar chasers ), I constantly wonder what it is that would keep me from wanting to go to heaven. Is accepting Jesus just really seeking to get my nightly bowl of soup? Is my acceptance of Jesus the means for me to gain heaven, or is Christ the point of heaven?

I confess that in my early Christian life, heaven was the "anti-hell". (You know the sermon as well: "Hell is terrible. It is awful. The fire never quenches. The teeth are always gnawing. Its painful. Its awful. It smells bad. Bad people will be there. You want to avoid hell for sure! If you don't accept Jesus Christ, you will go there."). No one wants to go to hell, so for sure I want to do whatever it takes not to go there. I constantly thought about what I was saved from.

Then came the next phase, what I like to call the "Southern Gospel phase". ("My mansion, just over in glory, in the city built four-square, on streets of gold, with gates of pearl, and jasmine walls, yada yada yada.") How heaven would be like living in Mountain Brook, only, everybody there is rich and has nice things. I, too, can have all those things I have always wanted here but couldn't afford! Makes me feel so much better about my current lack of stuff by knowing in my deepest spiritual sense, "I have laid up my treasures in heaven". God is going to compensate me for not having all those things I covet here on Earth but don't have. Except for the hope of those things nice things, I wouldn't really like heaven (except for the fact it was the "anti-hell", in which case I would be content with just a cabin somewhere up there, but if I work hard enough on Earth and have enough personal righteousness God has to give me a mansion).

But as I have grown more (not that I am by any means mature - just ask my wife), I have realized that heaven is not about avoiding hell, or gaining mansions, or streets of gold. Those are my "Mogen David". Rather heaven is about being with the God of Eternity who gave Himself for me in Christ, that I could be what He created me to be - to enjoy and glorify Him forever.

I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed, but will have sufficient courage so that now as always Christ will be exalted in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me. Yet what shall I choose? I do not know! I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far;... Phil. 1:20-23.

There are many things I want to be in heaven - I disparately want my family there, my children and wife, my parents, my siblings and their families. My friends, my co-workers, the people who come to me for help (well, most of them anyway). The drunks on the streets. Many of these things are my unspoken "Mogen David" and very dear and important to me. But, while at first blush it is blasphemous, for the Christian, of all the people and things possible to be in heaven, if Christ is not there, who the hell wants to go? We have placed all of our trust in Him and His work. We have committed our life to Him. As Christians, we have earned nothing of ourselves, but we owe it all to Him. And to Him belongs all the glory.

Lord, as hard as it is, please remove my Mogen Davids, and help me to focus on Your love for me, and Your presence in my life for all eternity.

Look for me on Fourth and Broadway - first alley on the right.

4theluv