The Call For Repentance in Ferguson Should Echo Back Powerfully

Okay, let’s think about this. As of yesterday, statistics show that 109 people have been killed in the St. Louis region this year. Actually, there was another homicide yesterday, so make the total 110. Religious leaders gathered recently in Ferguson fervently requesting ‘repentance’ of the officers of the Ferguson Police Department, even as the protesters continued to march for justice, which jump-started my pondering on such things.

That Michael Brown was shot and died is a horribly violent tragedy and, yes, there is ample data indicating racial profiling in the Ferguson and St. Louis region Police Departments yet, what intrigues me is the irony of this: Ferguson Police Officer, Darren Wilson, is being prosecuted, even persecuted, for using undue force, for making decisions based on race, and for taking justice in his own hands. Is this not exactly what the ‘repentance requiring’ clergy are doing to the Ferguson Police Department? By confronting the members of the Ferguson Police Department, by marching in the hundreds in front of the Police Department and City Hall, and by demanding that the justice that they (the protesters) seek is the only justice which is acceptable, even if only that of a repentant spirit, the protesters create a situation where Peace Officers are forced, again, to decide and act in a potentially volatile situation . . . as the crowds threaten to take justice in their own hands and make assumptive decisions based on race and geography. Hmmmm. Sounds a lot like downtown Jerusalem, not so very long ago.

Almost as a sidebar, yet being thrust on center-stage: Who among us doesn't need a fair amount of repentance for the wrongs we have done? Perhaps even/especially the clergy who are involved?

The events leading up to the tragedy and accompanying unrest in Ferguson didn't happen overnight. Ferguson has slowly, systematically been declining in economic vigor for years. Those families who could get out of the region, or wanted to, left long ago. Those who didn't have a choice but stay and those who found the, now, cheaper housing in that region attractive, are the basis of much of the Ferguson community today . . . and the schools reflect the transition. The public schools languish in the resulting financial transitions. Those who can either move or pay to have their children attend private schools to avoid the ‘roughneck’ nature of the resulting educational atmosphere. Those who cannot change their circumstance or pay to have it changed are left with diminishing resources and an often uncertain future, i.e. the Normandy School District.

It would seem that the Ferguson Police Department and Ferguson City Hall have become the symbolic lightning rods for an entire community, state and nation dealing with growing anguish, anger, frustration, and enmity rooted in neighborhood racial and economic classism. The invisible, insidious segregation of races, economic classes, and educational/employment opportunities has forcefully, vehemently become visible in the death and resulting conversations/demonstrations of Michael Brown – and what is being seen shocks us because, for too many, far too many, the enemy to be confronted is not ‘them’, but us.

Yes! Justice must be demanded, but I suspect the kind of justice really needed is to be found, not in front of the Ferguson Police Department or City Hall, but in the mirror image of those who demand the most while living/staying the farthest away from the epicenter of the conflict. Yes, I’m talking about those who live in their nice subdivisions, cul-de-sacs, and protected neighborhoods, which are not in neighborhoods such as Ferguson . . . precisely because they do not want their children growing up in the hard-scrabble existence faced by those who walked those streets long before the protesters arrived. I have seen their pictures scattered on Facebook, newspaper and television news outlets . . . and so have you. They send their own children to the elite public, parochial or private schools, shop in safe neighborhoods, and demand their local law enforcement folk patrol diligently to keep the disenfranchised from wandering their streets, all the while patting each other on the back for demonstrating and ‘taking a risk’ to stand in the front of a crowd, grab a mike and voice a prayer. They publicly repent of their white and/or economic privilege and tell the establishment how to better address the marginal existence of others, while holding on to the purse-strings of well-paying jobs with generous benefits and cultural security. They find the unblinking public eye of a camera to lift up their holiness and distress over the tragic killing of one of God’s children, they lift their cries of outrage in the modern wilderness of the very classism they cause and in which they continue to take part, and they call for others to behave differently with little remorse of their own - then wonder why folks are cynical in listening to them and lauding their efforts.

Yet, when the cameras are turned off and the demonstrators have dispersed, what of ‘justice’ for the other 109 killed? Who is lifting up those families as they bury their dead? Who is it that is willing to stand up and take on the injustice of a broken educational system, a battered economic reality, or a shattered culture of poverty and inherent classism? Who is it that deals with the families whose children were killed for the cause of drugs, turf, or gangs? Who is it that is willing to step into the breach of homelessness, moral insufficiency or the ongoing lack of family or communal support among the young of our community? Who is it that will call for repentance in downtown St. Louis, Chicago, New York, San Francisco . . . or any other city you want to name, that all of Nineveh would be saved, not just the portion making the news?

Granted, what has transpired in the demonstrations has been undertaken with the best of intentions yet, there was a reason the prophets of another age were so disdained: They moved in and dwelt among the people, becoming an ongoing discomforting presence calling for faithfulness in heart, courage in action and unswerving commitment to God’s holy vision of community. They didn't go somewhere else to be home, to places of safety, security and advantages galore, planning to return the next day with another message they thought needed to be heard. They took on the challenges of their neighbor by becoming a neighbor. They sent their children to the same schools, they depended on the same police departments and took part in local government functions . . . from a faith-based existence.

You want to address white privilege? Then really give it up and stop wrapping your living in its security.

You want to address the injustices of the system? Stop being unjust in your living.

You want to address the racism of our existence? Stop being racist in choosing where you live, shop and send your children to school.

You want to address the authorities in the institutions? Move into their neighborhood and stand shoulder to shoulder with them in the face of the hostilities and inequities they face each day. Don’t just expect them to carry cameras to record each moment, be the personal presence which sees with them.

You want to appear prophetic? Pack a suitcase and speak your faith. Don’t expect to ever go home again.

You want a prophet’s task? Repent of your comforts, advantages, and securities . . . sell all that you have and pick up your cross and follow Jesus. Too many among our prophetic ‘want-to-bes’ are like the rich young man with whom Jesus spoke: He knew what needed to be done, but could not integrate his desire for life with the manner in which he lived.

The family of Michael Brown and the community of Ferguson, Missouri, need a corps of committed activists to walk with them in these days, absolutely no doubt and with very good reason. But, what they do not need are uncommitted, unrepentant Jonah’s who really don’t want Nineveh to turn around and live because such a repentance would require as much or more of them, as well. So, too, does Officer Darren Wilson and his family. All of their lives depend on each of us living the fullness of the justice for which we patently call in these days. Such a transformation will occur when, finally, we look in the mirror and see our own highly visible complicity in the events of these days, get up from under the broom trees of our existence, and move on in the faith God gives for all.

In that day, our current irony will become the Kingdom and the Good News will truly be heard. In that day all the victims will have a place in the Son, not just the ones with the greatest amount of press.

Something on which to ponder: Justice for Ferguson from another perspective, one demanding our all-in repentance, not just the rhetoric. The hollow rhetoric, often faith-based, has led us to such days, but it will be the complete repentant committed action in faith which will lead us Home.

Women Are the First Apostles for a Reason: Easter

“Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father.

But go to my brothers and say to them, “I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.”

(John 20:17 NRSV)

It is one of my favorite verses in the Bible, precisely because Jesus told Mary Magdalene to “. . . go . . .” Contrary to what men may say, each of the Gospels bear witness to the fact that women are the first Apostles. By definition, an apostle is one who is sent. Mary is sent by Jesus. Pretty heady stuff . . . and, in the Gospel according to John, not only is she sent, she is sent to proclaim a very specific message: Good News! Death has not won! “I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.”

I love it! The Apostolic ‘burr under the saddle’ of a patriarchal institution, namely the church. Not only is death turned upside down by what God is doing, so is the structure of human relationships and personal value. In the moment when most Jesus needs ‘just the right person’ to bear His Good News out to the world, Jesus selects Mary Magdalene, not Peter, John or James, all of whom were with Him when He was transfigured. No, Jesus selects the invisible one, the marginalized one, the overshadowed one. Jesus selects the least among us to bear the greatest of Truths.

The Life of Jesus comes full circle: Born in the lowliness of a Bethlehem stable, to a woman whose name the world had never known . . . now Jesus is Born into New Life in the lowliness of a Jerusalem tomb, the event of which is first proclaimed by a woman whose name the world had never known. Both women named Mary.

Easter isn't about a day in the Church Calendar, it is about the ongoing redemptive work of God through Jesus Christ to announce Good News in an, often, unhearing world, through the voices of those whose lives have, first, been transformed. As Mary mourned what had happened to her Friend, her Savior, she found her tears dried in the gentle embrace of His Love, her grief assuaged in His Peace, her hopeless replaced by His Grace. Then, as though those gifts were not enough, Jesus sends her to tell others of what she has heard and seen. Such a message can only be believably told by one who has been a first-hand witness. No hearsay will hold up in the court of public or private opinion – and a woman, not just any woman, this woman, Mary, is such a witness with a powerful message to the disciples, to the Jews, to Rome and to the world.

Easter is about the hungry being fed, then feeding others.

     Easter is about the thirsty being given drink, then passing the cup of water to another.

          Easter is about the stranger being welcomed, the turning to welcome the next stranger in.

               Easter is about the naked being clothed, then offering the clothes off their back for another.

          Easter is about the imprisoned being visited, then extending the visits to those who are still imprisoned.

Easter is about the sick receiving of the love and care of another, then offering the same love and care to others.

Easter is for the invisible, the marginalized and the overshadowed, that they may find new Life and become the bearers of Good News into the entire world. Easter is about the overthrow of oppressors and those feeling entitled. Easter is concerned less with law and more with the ‘Aha!’ of God’s love and grace. Easter is for the ghettos of our living, for the war-torn and ravaged of earth’s plains, for the orphaned and widowed, and for those who are judged as sinful and for those who suffer unjust judgments.

Easter is God’s to dispense, not ours to control. Easter is a Message to share, not a sale to attend. Easter is a transforming Spirit, not a claim for human authority. Easter is a humbling Joy and exhilarating Refreshment. Easter is a Restorer of God’s Vision and an establishment of God’s Order. Easter is the naming of a New Day in God’s Kingdom - which transpires Every Day in God’s ongoing History.

Easter is both Rejoicing and Warning: Rejoicing, in that God continues to shape, renew and birth New Life into unexpected places and people; and, Warning, in that God will not have humanity subvert what God is setting in place.

From the earliest of the Gospels, Mark, we hear the first words of Jesus in his public ministry after His Baptism, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.” (1.15) Easter is coming and those announcing it are the ones you would least expect. Easter isn’t just for men anymore, never was intended that way. Easter is God’s. Get with it, get on board and rejoice – or get out of the way. God will not be silenced. Ask Mary.   

My Purpose in the Olympics

Nancy and I were watching the Winter Olympics the other evening and, as I suspect at least a few others do, I was imagining what it would be like to 'be' one of those athletes in Sochi. The Half-Pipe, Skeleton, Moguls, Alpine Skiing, Biathalon, Cross Country Skiing, Free Style Skiing, Luge, Nordic Combined, and even Snowboard . . . in each event, I could see myself participating, competing, winning, and standing on the podium as the National Anthem of the United States is played. Figure or Free Style Skating, maybe not so much . . . this body was never meant to be in those sort of tights. Curling . . . well, maybe, but only if I can wear the kind of pants the Norwegians wore this year. Hockey? Definitely not . . . I like all my teeth and the thought of people checking me into the boards is too much like monthly Church Council meetings (Just kidding!). But, you get the idea, the little kid in me always wonders, hopes, dreams, imagines . . . and then the old man in me looks at the mirror and just laughs.

It was in such a 'mirror' moment that I recently came to the understanding that (listen carefully now . . .) 'The Olympics happen precisely because of people like me.' You are very welcome! I appreciate all your gratitude and support.

There it is. Were it not for people like me, Sochi, Russia, would just be another forgotten town along the mountains. Were it not for people like me, Matt Lauer and Al Roker would never have the opportunity to try out Winter sports on TV. Were it not for people like me sponsors like Nike, Adidas, Puma, and who knows how many others with particular specialties in Winter sports, would never make the sales they do. Were it not for people like me, the world would be condemned to 'normal' network and sports station programming. (Horrors!) That's it! It is precisely because of people like me that the vast multi-billion dollar industrial and sports complex continues to create and bring in unimaginable amounts of wealth across such an expansive realm of opportunities! Again, in answer to the depth of your gratitude I say, You are very welcome! I appreciate your support and confidence.

"How is it that you are able to nearly single-handedly make this happen?" you ask? Here is my secret . . . (lean in close to your screen now and don't let anyone else hear this as you read it out loud, as so often you do when you read . . .) I can summarize my contribution to this phenomenon in one word: 'Training'. I have been relentlessly training my entire lifetime for this moment, for this event, for this singular opportunity to transform the world and affix redemptive wonder to the lives of others. For, isn't this exactly why the Olympics exist??

If I didn't train so extensively, for such a long period of time, to be exactly the person I am, how would anyone ever have any idea why such amazing athletes exist at all? Looking in the mirror I could see what differentiates the Olympic athletes from me and many like me: youth, vigor, particularized training, drive, physical fitness, sponsors with deep pockets, national pride and . . . oh yes, a certain amount of talent and inward bearing for the sport. Yet, that's just the point! If we were all the same, if we all could participate in the Olympics, there wouldn't be the need for the Olympics! We would be just one vast super-race of athletes . . . and there would be no one to impress, no one to dream of being like you, no one to buy the tickets to watch you play, no one to pay for the shirt (or one like it) on your back, no one to organize the tail-gates, no one to purchase cars painted in their team colors, and no one to be the cheerleaders (gasp!), there wouldn't even be cheerleaders or fans - because we would all be participating in every event!

You see, that is my contribution to the purpose of the Olympics. That is my gift to the world! I, and many like me, are the difference-makers on the field of competition: Because we can't (and some would argue 'shouldn't'), they can. Indeed, they have to - for the sake of the rest of us. They are the cream which rises, the ladder-climbers which ascend, the over-achievers who elevate the bar - constantly reminding and thanking us for the gift we give them. In looking at the rest of us, the Olympic athlete is driven to sublime prayer and gratitude, "Thank you, God, for these poor schluckers who can't do what I do and provide for me the means to become very successful and reasonably rich! And thank you, God, that I am handsome/beautiful and do not have to live through another's accomplishments or have to dream of being just like somebody else! Thank you, God, for my excellence!"

Yes, were it not for me and people like me, prayer life would suffer, God's relationship with God's people might even languish. Heavens! The ordinary and less than ordinary wouldn't be praying to be lifted up, for there would be no ordinary and less than ordinary or even a need to be lifted up, and the extraordinary would never do the Tebow in the end zone or point to the sky or thank God while looking in the camera - because nothing they did would be outstanding. We would all be the same.

There it is! My purpose in the Olympics, finally, defined! And I am a 'top platform', gold medal contributor to the cause! In my very being, I make others look good and, in so doing, create the purpose for the Olympic Flame to burn brightly every four years. Again, you are welcome! It was the least I could do . . . and if anyone knows what the least is which I can do, it's me. It makes me happy to have made such an extravaganza possible for the rest of the world. Enjoy the Olympics - and dream of what it might be for you to ski down a slope backwards, flipping a 720 at the jump and landing upright, sticking your snowboard solidly under you as you swoosh up to the camera, throwing snow into the lens with your joyful laughter filling the audio. It's the gift I gladly give you. You're welcome.