The Irreverent Reverend

In the first half of 2019 (the most recent year statistics were available), many politicians took money from the NRA. Some of the amounts seem insignificant, but remember that money buys loyalty. It is a given that getting re-elected is more important than serving the needs of constituents.

The NRA is the most powerful lobby in the United States. Legislators throughout the land bow to their agenda. The NRA spends more money lobbying than any other group. In 2019 alone the NRA spent $1.6 million lobbying congress to assure their agenda remains front and center.

It’s time to vote them out. If you live in a state where your legislator takes money from the NRA vote against them, even if they represent some other issues with which you agree. Remember politicians spread their “priorities” among the issues that will curry the most favor with voters. It’s all very strategic. If you really care about gun control, it’s time to set some of your own agenda aside and vote against those who are in the pocket of the NRA.

Many thanks to the Brady Foundation for compiling the following table; it shows the senators who have received money from the NRA as well as the average number of gun deaths in their state. A link is embedded so you can tweet them your outrage.

Senator	NRA Donations	Gun Deaths in State (per year)
Mitt Romney (UT)	$13,647,676	365	Tweet Them
Richard Burr (NC)	$6,987,380	1,311	Tweet Them
Roy Blunt (MO)	$4,555,722	1,074	Tweet Them
Thom Tillis (NC)	$4,421,333	1,311	Tweet Them
Cory Gardner (CO)	$3,939,199	715	Tweet Them
Marco Rubio (FL)	$3,303,355	2,568	Tweet Them
Joni Ernst (IA)	$3,124,773	264	Tweet Them
Rob Portman (OH)	$3,063,327	1,402	Tweet Them
Todd C. Young (IN)	$2,897,582	907	Tweet Them
Bill Cassidy (LA)	$2,867,074	946	Tweet Them
David Perdue (GA)	$2,002,462	1,459	Tweet Them
Tom Cotton (AR)	$1,968,714	534	Tweet Them
Pat Roberts (KS)	$1,581,153	368	Tweet Them
Pat Toomey (PA)	$1,475,448	1,503	Tweet Them
Josh Hawley (MO)	$1,391,548	1,074	Tweet Them
Marsha Blackburn (TN)	$1,306,130	1,103	Tweet Them
Ronald Harold “Ron” Johnson (WI)	$1,269,486	592	Tweet Them
Mitch McConnell (KY)	$1,267,139	690	Tweet Them
Mike Braun (IN)	$1,249,967	907	Tweet Them
John Thune (SD)	$638,942	95	Tweet Them
Shelley Moore Capito (WV)	$341,738	305	Tweet Them
Martha McSally (AZ)	$303,853	1,013	Tweet Them
Richard Shelby (AL)	$258,514	961	Tweet Them
Chuck Grassley (IA)	$226,007	264	Tweet Them
John Neely Kennedy (LA)	$215,788	946	Tweet Them
Ted Cruz (TX)	$176,274	3,139	Tweet Them
Lisa Murkowski (AK)	$146,262	165	Tweet Them
Johnny Isakson (GA)	$131,571	1,459	Tweet Them
Steve Daines (MT)	$123,711	197	Tweet Them
Cindy Hyde-Smith (MS)	$109,547	576	Tweet Them
Roger Wicker (MS)	$106,680	576	Tweet Them
Rand Paul (KY)	$104,456	690	Tweet Them
Mike Rounds (SD)	$95,049	95	Tweet Them
John Boozman (AR)	$82,352	534	Tweet Them
John Cornyn (TX)	$78,945	3,139	Tweet Them
Ben Sasse (NE)	$68,623	169	Tweet Them
Jim Inhofe (OK)	$66,758	679	Tweet Them
Lindsey Graham (SC)	$55,961	829	Tweet Them
Mike Crapo (ID)	$55,039	242	Tweet Them
Jerry Moran (KS)	$34,718	368	Tweet Them
John Barrasso (WY)	$26,989	104	Tweet Them
Lamar Alexander (TN)	$25,293	1,103	Tweet Them
Mike Enzi (WY)	$24,722	104	Tweet Them
John Hoeven (ND)	$22,050	93	Tweet Them
Susan Collins (ME)	$19,800	146	Tweet Them
Deb Fischer (NE)	$19,638	169	Tweet Them
James Lankford (OK)	$18,955	679	Tweet Them
Jim Risch (ID)	$18,850	242	Tweet Them
Tim Scott (SC)	$18,513	829	Tweet Them
Kevin Cramer (ND)	$13,255	93	Tweet Them

Our social response to mass shootings is to send thoughts and prayers. It is code language for doing nothing. Genuine prayer is that which leads us to action. There have been over 200 mass shootings in the United States this year alone. The cultural response of thoughts and prayers doesn’t cut it.  

As Miroslav Wolf said, “it is deeply hypocritical to pray for something you have no intention of changing.”

It’s good to be back after a few weeks’ hiatus. As many of you know, about a year ago I tripped off the tailgate of my truck and broke both my legs. It’s been a long recovery, and recently it was interrupted by a fall off a ladder while working on my boat. As a result of this most recent klutziness I fractured my pelvis in five places and broke my wrist. Having a lot of time on my hands occasions reflection, so from time to time I will share my musings in posts called “Lessons from the Tailgate.”

Lesson One: Don’t fall off the tailgate (or ladder). You break stuff and it really hurts.

Lesson Two: As you age it takes a lot longer to recover from the stuff you break.

Lesson Three: The pendulum on opioid use has swung too far in the other direction. Asking for pain medication makes most health care providers look at you like a drug-seeking derelict.

Lesson Four: My recovery is a process. If one more person talks about it as a “journey,” they better provide plane tickets.

Lesson Five: It’s not helpful to hear someone say, “God never gives you more than you can handle.” I try and remember, however, that they are doing the best they can.  

Lesson Six: Needing help is a humbling thing. In reality, we are all one trip away from needing help with everything from feeding ourselves to bathing.

Most of the time we delude ourselves with images of self-sufficiency and strength. These are fleeting gifts we can lose in the blink of an eye. I have learned that needing help occasions grace and it teaches me about what it means to be human. When I tripped off the tail gate, my calls for help were answered by at least a dozen neighbors who called the rescue, called Jean, stayed with me and comforted me while I waited for help. From the hospital to rehab to home care, I was treated with respect and care. I am very grateful.

Since then I have continued to need help with rides to the doctor, meal preparation, mobility and so much more. I am blessed with a wonderful physical therapist named Sylvie and with the gift of a loving companion named Jean. My dearest friends have bolstered my spirits and sat with me in dark places. My family has offered unconditional support and love. Churches have, and still are, praying for me. Their prayers have buoyed me through challenging days. In the midst of the difficulties of this past year, I count it all as blessing.

Lesson Seven: Beyond asking for help, there is a lesson in vulnerability.

By vulnerability I mean having fewer resources than someone else. It has nothing to do with weakness, ineptness or anything negative. It simply means that at one point or another we will have fewer resources than another person or people around us. Wrapping my brain around my vulnerability was one hell of an inner fight. I am used to being the one with more resources. I am used to being in control. I am used to being the smart one, the strong one, the (fill in the blank). Of course it is all delusion, but it helps me get through the day. My delusion was tossed into a roiling sea of need and vulnerability. I did not go easily or willingly. I could have skipped it and remained grateful, if not a little irritated that I needed so much help, all the while chomping at the bit to get back to my delusion of self-sufficiency.

Instead, I let myself be dragged to the moment and whatever insight came next. Turns out what came next were moments of grace. To feel at a very deep level what it means to be utterly dependent on someone to help me dress, bring me to the toilet, wipe by butt, and be confined to a wheelchair brought me face to face with my deep vulnerability. I was completely dependent. It was a surreal experience to sit naked on the toilet while a wonderful aide named Lucy washed my back and put on lotion. In the midst of her ministrations we talked about faith and how it sustains us in difficult times. Her professionalism and competence held my vulnerability with trust and compassion. She could have hit me on the head with a bed pan and I would have been powerless to do anything. Instead she treated me with dignity and respect. Those moments of intimate care were occasions of deep pondering and profound grace.

My vulnerability was temporary. There are those for whom it is permanent. Having fewer resources means having less power in ways like physical limitation, being subject to oppressive authority, being profiled because of the color of your skin or the distinctive clothing you wear in faithfulness to your religion. Sometimes there is vulnerability due to age, mental capacity or financial resources. There are so many ways to be vulnerable and each one presents an opportunity for compassionate care.

Our shared humanness means that at times we will be called to hold the vulnerabilities of others in trust and with compassion. It means we will be the ones, from time to time, who are vulnerable and in need. And in those moments we hope there will be those who hold our vulnerabilities with trust and care. Being human is an eternal movement between the shores of strength and vulnerability.  If you’re anything like me, you go to the land of vulnerability kicking and screaming. Yet, on the other side of my delusion of self-sufficiency I discovered a land of deeper shared humanity that is itself a state of grace.

Many of us know that Palm Sunday is the parade that welcomed Jesus into the city of Jerusalem. People spread their coats and palm fronds on the road and sang, “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” But long before Jesus ever set foot toward the city of Jerusalem for Passover, the most important journey of his life was well underway.  And his feet never moved. 

It was a journey nurtured in silence, a path discovered through listening.  It was the journey inward…to that place that was not a place, but grounded all other places.  This journey kept Jesus doing what he was supposed to do and kept him doing it even when it ceased to be popular. This inner journey gave him the fortitude and clarity to remain undeterred. 

It is no coincidence that Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem coincided with the celebration of Passover.  Passover is all about freedom from bondage.  It is the celebration that marks the Exodus and the end of slavery in Egypt at the hands of Pharaoh.  Like all Jews who were physically able to make the trip, Jesus and his friends made their pilgrimage to Jerusalem for the celebration. Passover was and remains a ritual symbolizing their belief that God set them free. It is an archetypal story that speaks to the human experience: from bondage to freedom, from death to life, from vulnerability to strength and back again, through suffering to new life.  Every great world religion has a feast/festival or celebration that marks the cycle of renewal and refreshment, freedom and new identity.

Jesus was formed in the crucible of Passover celebrations. It was a reminder that God’s intent was freedom and life without fear.  He was tempered by the prophets’ words and scarred with the fire of others’ pain.  He lived and laughed and loved after the way of God and showed God to all who would look and listen and follow.

Palm Sunday is a day to think twice about what freedom really is.  Jesus coming into the city suggests that he saw a truth beyond what appeared, underneath what was obvious.  Though he would be arrested later in in the week, this day staked Jesus’ path of freedom that was not measured by the absence of prison bars but by clarity of purpose.

What made Jesus dangerous and powerful is that his heart was undeterred no matter what.  He knew what was waiting for him and he went anyway.  He was unafraid of the consequences of his faithfulness. His words were mirrored in his actions.  He was of one heart and mind; he walked one path.  The only way you get that kind of clarity and resolve is by being faithful to the inner journey.  It is not an act of will; it is what happens in silence, study, prayer and community. 

The image of his steadfastness as we enter this week is a reminder that, if we are really honest, all we do is a reflection of who we are for better or worse, and usually for a whole lot of both. Our lives reveal the best and the worst of what it means to be human.  Our lives reveal the fruits of our inner garden. 

The celebration of Palm Sunday lies not in the palms and cheering crowds but in Jesus’ steely resolve to keep on being who he was and to keep on doing what he was doing. Jesus’ inner journey is a path for us to follow, but in a way that is uniquely our own.  We discover this by reaching in deep and allowing ourselves to listen for God’s whispering presence. 

Moses had a burning bush and that would be nice; but the summons to pilgrimage usually isn’t so obvious.  More likely it will be a thought, a gesture, a surprise, a sense that we should go this way and not that, that we should choose this and not that.  It is a delicate kind of listening. It takes practice.

As we follow Jesus on the inner journey, our feet will not move. This is the journey nurtured in silence, a path discovered through listening.  It is the journey inward…to that place that is not a place but grounds all other places.  This journey will keep us grounded in what we are supposed to do and keep us doing it even when it ceases to be popular. This journey will give us the fortitude and clarity to remain undeterred.  This is how we follow Jesus on the way.

Once every thirty-three years the Islam holiday of Ramadan, the Jewish celebration of Passover and the Christian celebration of Holy Week/Easter overlap. It’s a big deal.

Ramadan is the most sacred month for Muslims. All who are physically able fast from sun-up to sundown. It is a time of deep contemplation and focus on one’s relationship with Allah. It is a month of intense study of the Quran along with extra prayers and acts of charity. At dusk the fast is broken and family and friends gather to celebrate and share a meal. At the end of Ramadan there is a three-day festival called Eid al Fatir.

Passover is the Jewish celebration of the Hebrews’ liberation from slavery in Egypt and the deliverance of the firstborn child of each family from death. By smearing blood on the doorposts of their houses, death “passed over” and spared the child. Contemporary Passover celebrations begin with a Seder supper in which foods symbolizing their captivity and journey to freedom are consumed. Special prayers are recited and the story of liberation is recounted.

Holy Week and Easter are Christian celebrations. They mark Jesus’ return to Jerusalem for the Passover Festival (remember Jesus was a Jew). He was subsequently arrested and put to death as an enemy of the state. Holy Week consists of Maundy Thursday and the Last Supper, Good Friday and the crucifixion, and Easter which is the celebration of resurrection.

All of these religions have a common bond in the Patriarch Abraham. Muslims trace their line back to Ishmael, the son of Abraham and Hagar. Hagar was the slave girl of Abraham and Sarah. Since Sarah was barren, Abraham had a son with Hagar. After Sarah gave birth to Isaac things got a little uncomfortable between Sarah and Hagar. Sarah sent Hagar and Ishmael away. Muslims believe that Ishmael was a prophet and a forefather of Mohammed.

Jews claim Abraham, his son Isaac and Isaac’s son Jacob as their patriarchs, the forefathers of the faith. Christians acknowledge that we are the children of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob and thus firmly connect us to our Jewish roots. It is why we call our faith the Judeo-Christian tradition.

These three religious traditions have much in common. They all acknowledge a deep dependence on God, prayer, gratitude for the bounty and abundance of God and spiritual reflection.

Fasting is also a part of the three religious traditions. There are numerous instances of fasting in both testaments of scripture as well as the Quran. In the early church, fasting was a highly valued practice. Those who were able fasted on Wednesday and Friday until 3:00 p.m. That did not change until the institutionalizing of Christianity by Constantine in the fourth century (that is putting it kindly). Fasting then accompanied the desert mothers and fathers as a spiritual discipline and has since remained slightly out of the mainstream of Christian practice.

However it is embodied, fasting is a reminder that God is the true source of everything. All sustenance comes directly from God. Through fasting, the rich know what it is like to be hungry and they are (hopefully) moved to greater acts of charity on behalf of the poor and hungry.

John Thompson, Associate Professor of religion and philosophy at Christopher Newport’s College says of fasting, “I think you can learn what it means to be human.”

These three major world religions are all children of Abraham.

In this season each is engaged in a time of intense prayer, devotion, fasting and acts of charity. Each tradition tells the story of their faith and how it is lived out in their families. They challenge one another to greater expressions of faith and devotion by the way they live in the world and how they live in the world-wide community.

The convergence of these three religious traditions creates a spiritual energy that permeates the universe. We can harness that energy for the benefit of the world. There is a potential to change the world as we share the richness of our faith traditions. As we pray for our Abrahamic sisters and brothers and look for areas of commonality, we can minimize the misunderstanding and tensions that exist between these traditions. As sisters and brothers in the Abrahamic tradition, it is incumbent on us to deal with our prejudices, fears and anxieties about the traditions that are not our own but whose history we share. Crystal Dunlap of themedialine.org writes, this is an “opportunity for three main faiths of the Holy Land to remember our relationship with one another while we pray and practice good deeds together.”

By being faithful to whatever tradition we claim, we cast our energy into the world for the sake of the world. We are all children of Abraham.

Be sure to listen to the song of the week: All the Children of Abraham by John McCutcheon. You can listen here.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N6S59OR1VaE

Every now and then some crazy politician goes off on a tear about America being a Christian nation. That perspective is fed each time someone places a picture on social media about needing school prayer. It is fed each time someone criticizes someone “out there” who is offended by the phrase, “one nation under God.” My question is always “is that Jesus or Allah?” The question is enough to send some people into orbit and render others completely silent. But if we are going to claim to be one nation under God, we should at least be clear about what God we are talking about (even though they are all ultimately One).

America was not founded as a Christian nation. It is true that a small number of settlers in North America came to find religious freedom. They were a minority. The majority of settlers in America came to exploit the resources of the land and set up new trade routes. But the notion of a Christian nation persists. One reason is the pledge of allegiance: “one nation under God.” Those words are a relatively new addition to the pledge.

Most people don’t’ know the history of the Pledge of Allegiance. They think it was tattooed on Jesus’ butt when he came forth from Mary’s womb. The words, however, are of human and more humble origin. The Pledge of Allegiance was written in August 1892 by the socialist minister Francis Bellamy (did you catch the word “socialist?”).  It was published in The Youth’s Companion and it was Bellamy’s hope that it would be used by citizens in any country.

The original words were “I pledge allegiance to my Flag and the Republic for which it stands one nation, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.”

In 1923 the words, “the Flag of the United States of America,” were added. In response to communist threats in the 1950’s President Eisenhower encouraged Congress to add the words, “under God.” Our current 31 word Pledge of Allegiance has only been around since 1954. It has nothing to do with the Founding Father’s (and mothers) intentions, the framers of the Constitution, or blah, blah, blah.

What was in the mind of the Founding Fathers (and mothers) was the separation of church and state, a line that is becoming perilously thin in our increasingly autocratic political times. The earliest dreams of our nation held forth a freedom of religion (or a freedom from religion, as one may desire). The First Amendment to the Constitution states, “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.”

In short this means you can be a Baptist, a Jew, a Buddhist, a member of the church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster (yeah, it’s a thing), an agnostic, an atheist or a tree hugger. So when the political nut jobs of the day get the microphone and talk about “one nation under God” they are standing on shaky historical ground. Of course most of the political nut jobs have probably not read the constitution so they are blowing their ignorance out their ears.

It is past time for us to reclaim the social narrative around religious expression in a pluralistic society.  The separation of church and state is firmly baked into the Constitution and held to as a cornerstone of a functioning democracy.  This means that our social narrative needs to make room for religious practices other than our own. I would go so far as to remove “under God” from the pledge of allegiance, though that would rankle a lot of people. Rankle away. I’m okay with it.

America is a secular nation. Some of the values that have been esteemed historically are loosely based on the Christian faith. Still, it doesn’t change the fact that this is a secular nation, and I daresay the esteemed Christian values have long since been eclipsed by free market capitalism, greed and corporate power run amok.

Hiding behind some goofy notion of America as a Christian nation is a false narrative for our country. It feeds Christian nationalism, skews Christian faith and encourages the lines between church and state to be further blurred. Freedom of religion (or from religion) means any religion. This is the needed social narrative for our country.    

Peace is not something you wish for;

It’s something you make,

Something you do,

Something you are,

And something you give away.

John Lennon

For today, I am giving away peace. To every person I meet I will wish them deep peace. I will look them in the eye, see them as a human being and wish them the peace that passes all understanding.

I will pray for the grace to live peace in my own soul, because it’s the only way I have a snowball’s chance in August of pulling this off. Mustering deep peace is possible only when connected to the Holy. My own efforts at wishing someone deep peace will go right out the window the first time someone tail gates me on the highway. Sadly, but honestly, I am too judgmental, too snarky and too impatient to ever pull this peace thing off on my own.

In the fervent hope that I am not alone in this and I haven’t blown all my credibility, here are a few thoughts on wishing others deep peace and what it means for our world.

It is only when we are connected to the Source of peace that we can wish peace to another. It doesn’t mean that we have to have our own house perfectly in order and do everything “right” (isn’t that the best news you’ll hear today). Life is messy and complicated. It rarely fits into the little boxes we create to corral the most challenging issues we face. We are frailly and fabulously human. None of this changes our capacity to look someone in the eye and wish them peace. In fact, it can help ground us and remind us of our connection to the Source of peace.

In these days of uncertainty and war, as images of refugees and wounded soldiers float across our TV screens with the same neutrality as the Muppets, wishing others deep peace may be the single most important thing we can do.

Most of us can’t hop a plane and fly half way across the world to work with refugees. Most of us don’t have tons of extra money we can send to reputable relief agencies to solve the refugee crisis unfolding before our eyes.

What we can do is live into deep peace with every person we meet. I believe the universe has a   positive energy that is fed by the human energy of every person who lives peace, wishes peace, does justice and lives gently on the earth.

We are part of a world-wide community that is filled with people we will never meet, who nonetheless are our sisters and brothers. I believe that what I do in my little corner of the world matters to the whole.

Like war, peace must be waged, and we do that in the way that we live each day, connected to the Source of peace and living out of that relationship. So, for today (and maybe tomorrow and the next day) let us wish others deep peace. These small gestures have the power to change the world.

Judyth Hill writes:

“Wage peace with your breath. Breathe in firemen and rubble, breathe out whole buildings and flocks of red wing blackbirds. Breathe in terrorists and breathe out sleeping children and freshly mown fields. Breathe in confusion and breathe out maple trees. Breathe in the fall and breathe out lifelong friendships intact.

Wage peace with your listening: hearing sirens, pray loud. Remember your tools: flower seeds, clothes pins, clean rivers. Make soup. Play music, learn the word for thank you in three languages. Learn to knit, and make a hat. Think of chaos as dancing raspberries. Imagine grief as the out breath of beauty or the gesture of fish. Swim to the other side.

Wage peace. Never has the world seemed so fresh and precious. Have a cup of tea and rejoice. Act as if armistice has already arrived. Celebrate today.”

And I would add, wish deep peace to everyone you meet.

Once a decade voting districts are changed. The theory of redistricting is good. Based on census information, districts are drawn to reallocate seats in areas with the densest population. That’s not how it works in reality.

From this round of redistricting there are some disturbing trends. According to the New York Times, the number of competitive congressional districts is at the lowest level in thirty years. Redrawing district lines assures that congressional races are all but over before the general election. Fewer than 40 of the 435 seats are considered to be competitive based on 2020 election results. Fifteen years ago that number was 73 (which is still troubling).

This happens in both Republican and Democratic strongholds. It is, however, worth noting that Republicans control the mapmaking in twice as many districts as Democrats. Redistricting inevitably favors the prevailing political party. Cracking and packing are the two processes that end up favoring incumbent political parties. Cracking is when pockets of like-minded voters are separated by drawing new district lines. This dilutes their vote into several regions. Packing is when district lines are redrawn to concentrate like-minded voters into one region, thereby giving their vote increased clout.

While there is a Constitutional amendment against gerrymandering, the Supreme Court ruled in Rucho v. Common Cause that federal courts have no role to play in blocking partisan gerrymandering. It leaves it to the states to draw district lines. Some states leave redistricting to independent boards while other states use elected officials (talk about the fox guarding the hen house!). Since the Supreme Court gutted the Voting Rights Act, states that have a history of gerrymandering are not required to submit their redrawn voting district lines to Federal voting officials. Prior to this Pennsylvania had to re-draw its congressional maps 10 times before the 2018 elections. Texas had to redraw its lines every year since the Voting Rights Act. Now there is no federal supervision to redrawing district lines. State Courts and not the Supreme Court have more and more power over the redistricting process. It is grim.

All of this matters in a big way. Such gerrymandering decreases authentic competition in voting races and increases polarization between the political parties. This guarantees that some senate and representative seats will flip to the opposite party due to cracking and packing. The larger result is the political gridlock in which Washington is mired. If Republicans gain more seats in the House in the mid-term elections, we could see gridlock in both Houses. This makes it almost impossible for politicians to get anything done. The government has a hard enough time getting anything done as it is.

For example, Republicans blocked the Senate from considering a wide ranging women’s reproductive rights bill. This continues to happen even though a vast majority of Americans favor women’s reproductive rights. As the Supreme Court becomes more politicized there is a chance that Roe v. Wade will be completely gutted. Multiple states are waiting in the wings to follow Texas’ lead in limiting women’s reproductive rights.

It’s easy to see how something as seemingly benign as redistricting has far reaching political implications at the state and national level. As voices and votes are diluted or amplified, political accountability is diminished. The face of American politics and the democratic process is being eroded for at least the next ten years. There is a danger, however, that the polarizations created by redistricting will be self-perpetuating for all the reasons already noted.  

As people of faith we are called to speak truth to power. It means we have to call our legislators to account when they do not represent us. It means we need to have a very long memory so we can speak to this process in ten years. The voice of faith has always been the minority report in public life. Still, we have an obligation to be that voice in the political process. It’s easy to think the government runs on auto-pilot, but in reality it runs on hidden political agendas, big money and gerrymandered voting districts.

We need to pay attention to our democracy or it will be no more.

Every year during Lent the Protestant churches in the town where I was living at the time would get together for services on Wednesday nights.  Churches would take turns hosting, different pastors would lead the services and sometimes the choirs would collaborate on a special piece of music.

The little Methodist church that volunteered to host a service just about every year was always a place of interest for me. The building was somewhat nondescript early twentieth century gothic architecture with dust that was probably older than I was. Painted on the back of the chancel wall was a huge mural.  A blonde haired, blued eyed Jesus sat on the shore of a perfectly blue lake looking dreamily into space with a look of utter serenity.  Lollipop trees surrounded the placid water and it all gathered under an azure sky with cotton candy clouds bathed in golden sunlight.

The whole thing was fairly hideous and I passed the time in worship coming up with names for this mural, like Jesus at Lake Winnipesaukee or Jesus of Sweden visits the Finger Lakes.  I think it may have been the first time I hoped God had a sense of humor.

I was sitting in that little Methodist church staring at that ridiculous mural when I first heard, or at least first really listened to the Gospel story of Jesus in the Temple. Jesus was turning over tables, thrashing a whip, emptying coin coffers, driving out the animals and shouting in anger. The image collided with the mural of Jesus at Lake Winnipesaukee but also every other Jesus image I knew. Most popular images of Jesus, though none of us know what he looked like, are akin to Solomon’s Head of Christ, Jesus with little children, or healing blind Bartimeus, and various images of Jesus on the Cross. Angry Jesus isn’t in the mix.

A little history is helpful, so please bear with me. You may remember that when Jesus was born, Mary and Joseph went to the temple and sacrificed a dove as commanded by the law.  Animals that were to be sacrificed at the temple were to be without blemish. 

The temple sellers that Jesus flipped out on performed a practical service for worshippers.  First, it was easier to buy something upon arrival than to schlep a sheep from the hinterlands.  Second, what kind of bind would a pilgrim be in if, upon inspection, they were told their animal was not suitable for sacrifice?  

Third, the law required that Jews have no graven images and Caesar’s image was on every Roman coin.  Jews, by law could not use Roman coins for a monetary offering at the temple without breaking a religious law they valued.  It is, after all, one of the Big Ten….  So the moneychangers and animal sellers provided an important service that was needed if Temple worship was to continue in faithfulness to the Law. 

It’s important to note that Jesus had no problem with the law itself.  Misinterpreting texts like this one has fanned the flames of anti-Semitism for hundreds of years.  What had Jesus so upset was that this form of worship had become an end in itself.  Worship was no longer about honoring God, it was about crossing the i’s and dotting the t’s. What got Jesus unhinged was the empty piety of it all. No matter how faithfully conceived, it had now gone completely awry.

It’s an honest albeit disconcerting invitation to look at ourselves and what we make important in our religious and spiritual lives. Sometimes we major in the minors and forget the bigger picture of what mean it means to be human in this frail and fragile world.   

But the passion that sparked Jesus’ outburst is still available to all of us…and asks us to pay attention. It’s a passion for justice and faithfulness expressed in deeds of kindness and care, equality and grace.

This Jesus who goes ballistic in the courtyard is the same Jesus who loves the little children, the same Jesus who heals blind Bartimeus and heals the centurion’s daughter. 

This Jesus who is shouting and hollering in the vestibule is the same Jesus who asked the one who was without sin to cast the first stone at the woman who was shoved before him to be judged.

This Jesus, who set the animals free, is the same one who healed the lame and loved the ones no one else could stand to be around.

The loving Savior to whom we pray while we watch and wait at the bedside of our loved ones, is the same loving Savior who weeps at the lack of health care available to the poor.

The gentle Savior whom we seek in the places of our own brokenness and pain is the same gentle Savior who cares for those whose brokenness we find so easy to judge.

This Jesus who is so unhinged and bent out of shape in these acts of anger and outrage is motivated by the same care, love and grace as when we see him in his most tender moments. 

Being a person of faith is, in part, about meeting Jesus as he is in all his humanness. Being a person of faith means that what matters most to us takes a back seat to what matters most to God. It means that what makes us different is eclipsed by the love that makes us one. We would do well to become unhinged by the same things that unhinged Jesus.

I am in the waiting room of Facebook jail. The independent fact checkers have determined I have repeatedly shared false information that violates their community standards. Finding their community standards was a bit of a search. Once I found them I was left confused.

The actual posts were removed, so I am unable to see what they deemed unfit (not helpful). And while there is an appeal process I have used in the past, such an appeal is not available to me in this circumstance. Instead, for the next 90 days all my posts will appear in the cellar of the Facebook news feed. So keep on scrolling….

All this raises the question about the razor’s edge line between censorship and holding to some standard for sharing information. It feels a bit like the Facebook police just remove stuff they don’t like, but it is a lot more complicated than that. Monitoring millions of posts a day is a behemoth task at best. There are complicated algorithms to flag hot button words, misinformation, disinformation and the like. The person in charge of all this is Monika Bickert. According to Vanity Fair she is “…one of a handful of people, along with her counterparts at Google, with real power to dictate free speech norms for the entire world.” Fifteen thousand independent fact checkers (the Facebook police) and a constantly evolving set of community standards is how Facebook decides what is appropriate and what is not. It means that this handful of people has tremendous control over the information that is shared in the free world.

I don’t know about you, but this makes me very nervous.

Sharing false information is not something I knowingly do. And who decides if it’s false? And how do they decide this? I do my research and use sources I trust. On my personal page I share mostly comics, memes and articles I find interesting. I use the New York Times, the Economist, the Wall Street Journal, The Washington Post and writers like economist Robert Reich and biblical scholars like Walter Brueggemann. I don’t think they knowingly share misinformation either. The truth is that all publications have a spin. I just happen to like the spin of these publications. Apparently the Facebook police do not.

One article that appeared to be chopped by the Facebook police was by Robert Reich about inflation. He contends that inflation is being caused by the “concentration of the American economy into the hands of a relative few corporate giants with the power to raise prices.” This sounds about right to me and it has tremendous implications for companies like Facebook (now called Meta). Little wonder it disappeared on the cutting room floor of the Facebook police office.

The purpose of my writing is to explore the intersection of faith, politics and culture. I endeavor to be a voice of reasoned faith, progressive Christianity and moral centeredness in a world that is increasingly unmoored from its foundations. This apparently violates their community standards. Go figure.

When Jesus stood before Pilate on the eve of his crucifixion Jesus said: “I have come to testify to the truth. In response Pilate asked him, “What is truth?” It is a question we do well to ponder. What are the standards we use to evaluate information? Where do we get our information? If all publications have a spin, what is the spin that lines up with our values? Where are our values formed and how do we live them out?

There are many versions of the “truth” out there. It is up to us to listen through the cacophonous riot of information that assaults us every day and determine for ourselves what we will proclaim as truth.

The anchor in all this, as people of faith, is the gospel as revealed in Scripture. And here is where it gets dicey. You can prove almost anything by reading the bible. Anyone can take a verse out of context and use it as “proof” of a particular point.

Something more is asked of us, as people of faith. We are to be lifetime students of Scripture. The consistent message of Scripture from Genesis to Revelation is God’s unshakeable love for all humanity and creation, the unwavering call to a life of discipleship and obedience, a constant striving for a just world and an insatiable hunger for peace. This is the truth toward which all of Jesus’ life and teaching pointed. Of course, we may end up in Facebook Jail, and I guess that’s okay, I’ll take the truth of the gospel I believe with every fiber of my being no matter where I end up.

Yet even now, says the Lord,

return to me with all your heart,

with fasting, with weeping, and with

mourning;

rend your hearts and not your clothing.

Return to the Lord, your God,

for he is gracious and merciful,

slow to anger

and abounding in steadfast love.

Joel2:12-13

When I was a kid I thought Catholic kids were so cool. They came to school with dark smudges on their foreheads. We ate fish sticks on Friday because the Catholic kids couldn’t eat meat. I was in awe of their holy days of obligation and complex explanations of mortal sins, venial sins and the need to go to confession.  I longed to genuflect. 

But, alas, we were Protestants and Congregationalists at that, and no such holy things happened in our little church. Ash Wednesday slipped by unnoticed and we took little account of Lent and Holy Week.  As the years went by the notion of giving up something for Lent managed to enter our liturgy-less worship.  As a teenager most of my peers did battle with demon chocolate while I faced the evil potato chip.  Together we dutifully denied our desires for favorite foods, but I secretly wondered if my and everyone else’s faithfulness was truly measured by this yearly ritual. Though I tried to take it seriously I didn’t really get it. Lent and ashes all remained a mystery.

I’m not all that sure I get it now either, but the reasons are different.  It’s not that I am unwilling to engage in some Lenten discipline, but I’m pretty clear that not much is going to happen in the world as a result of my not eating potato chips for the next forty days, except a dip in the gross domestic product.  It seems meaningless in the face of the world’s needs. My sins have more to do with how I fail in God’s commands to do justice, love mercy and walk humbly with God.  Of the 613 commandments in the First Testament I’m not aware of one that has to do with potato chips.

So gratefully my search for a more meaningful expression of Lenten discipline found a ground in the words of Joel. This obscure little prophet about whom little is known connects the dots in a simple but profound way.  Like most prophets he sounds the alarm about the world and the mess it is in.  His words are, as Walter Bruegemann notes, a summons to emergency.

There is much we share with people of antiquity. There is a summons to emergency in our time.  We cannot gather for worship and prayer without Ukraine being heavy on our hearts. And this is just the most recent upset caused by power and greed.

 Joel’s main beef is that Israel had forgotten who God is. This lament is not about personal failures, it is about the community of faith’s failure to honor God in its corporate worship and its deeds in the world. And while everyone had a place personally in that failure, this text is not primarily about personal repentance.  It is a corporate lament.  

Jerusalem has forgotten God’s utter fidelity and, as Brueggemann notes, “When God’s fidelity is jettisoned human relations become unfaithful and society disintegrates.”  Thus the purpose of religious discipline is to remember who God really is, what is promised by God, and what is required for God.

That’s way better than a potato chip dilemma.  It suggests that God cares more about the world being a mess and about God’s people being indifferent than about the state of my cholesterol-related confessions.

The Ghanaian Methodist theologian Mercy Amba Oduyoye speaks of God being agitated. This agitation – described in kindred words in many biblical texts – is both compassion and distress. Most of all, Oduyoye writes, God is agitated at suffering and injustice.

God is agitated. God is appalled. God weeps. And God the Lover longs for us to return Godward, with tears.

It is here that our personal spiritual practice meets the pain of the world.  It is the cry of the Prophet Joel: “Return to the Lord your God.…” Our meager self-denials are not the fruit of repentance called for in this season. Rather, we are called to take seriously what God asks of us as people of faith.