Am I A Functional Racist?

 In the evangelical circles where I spent all of my childhood and much of my adult years, we have a term called "functional atheism" - by this we meant people that SAID they believed in God, used all the right words, had all the doctrines and theologies down pat, but in their day-to-day lives and decisions, they did not acknowledge God in the process, did not make their decisions or form their lifestyles based on His truth. Their actual walking around lives did not look much different from your average nice-guy athiest. And there are a lot of those around, sitting in our churches, sometimes even in our favorite chair.

What I'm sensing in our American culture - what I've seen in myself and continue daily to root out - is a "functional racist" - someone who declares they are not a racist (and they truly believe this to be the case). They do not use racial slurs, they have that Black friend, maybe even one or two Black folks in their mostly white church, they do not tell bigoted jokes, they feel a degree of sadness when seeing videos of overt racism or police brutality or movies about past racism. But ... in their day-to-day lives and decisions, their lifestyles, they change nothing, learn nothing, do nothing, that will effect actual change in the lives of people being harmed by systems built upon racism. This person IS a "functional racist."

I've been on a journey the last several years of unearthing what is in my own heart as regards racism. There have been some seriously difficult things I've had to face within myself, things that if I want to truly change, I've had to be willing to see. Here are a few:

• Am I am unwilling to sacrifice my money, comfort, status, time or energy to stand alongside those that have been oppressed, or to be a part of insuring injustice is pushed back against...
• Am I am unwilling to invest in educating myself in areas I may possibly be ignorant or to listen to the voices of those with different lived experiences, with different cultural or theological perspectives...
• Yet, in spite of that, my perspective and understanding remain the sole measuring line for right and wrong, normal and abnormal, acceptable and unacceptable...
• Do I consistently judge the many by the actions of a few when looking at those asking to be heard, but refuse to judge the actions of oppressors when looking at systems that are oppressing...
• Do I SAY I believe all people are created equal, but I am "functionally" comfortable with some people being treated better in medicine, in education, in justice systems, in housing, in employment, while others are consistently harmed...

If those things are in me, if I'm unwilling to see them and begin to allow God space to root them out, then what I SAY means literally nothing.

If those things are in me, and to the degree that they are, I am a "functional racist."

This is hard for me to write. It is hard for me to say - that term, "functional racist." It is hard because at times it. is. me. And I do not, under any circumstances, want to be called, or BE, a racist. I hate it. I hate every part of what it means to be racist.

Here is a hard truth: It is possible to hate racism (as I understand it), to hate what it means, what is stands for and yet, at the same time, to functionally uphold its tenets with my actions (or more likely, inaction).

Accepting this, facing this truth, to NOT be racist (to be ANTI-racist), requires embracing discomfort. It will, it IS uncomfortable to face parts of us that we formerly did not recognize as harmful. We do not like being wrong - do not like realizing we've been deceived in important areas. It is painful to sit in and process - to give space for allowing ourselves to be corrected. And I use the word "process" intentionally - because this is not just a sudden epiphany and all is suddenly well. This work comes in waves, in layers, new realizations of wrong belief or wrong thinking, new information that changes a perspective, new friendships that widen understanding. It takes deeper levels of vulnerability, as I allow others to point out blind spots.

But to walk in the way of Jesus calls us to take up our cross - to be willing to give up our own comfort for the good of others, for the uplifting of others - to see the Kingdom of God as not just future, but very much as here and now and the Body of Christ in all it's fullness.

If my theology allows me to be comfortable, to continue living my life in relative ease, while others are in misery just out of my sight - I have not yet fully embraced the theology of the Kingdom of Jesus.

Grief

 As I look around the internet at the devastation in our country right now, my emotions are all over the place. Some days, I'm completely numb. I medicate with food and distractions and do not allow myself space to process. Other days, I feel like I am on fire, like my heart will explode from the anger that we've allowed this to be who we are. I know some of you are sick of me posting about such serious topics, but I've never been one for idle chit-chat anyway, so right now, it feels a bit like fiddling while Rome burns to not look it full in the face. So, I numb. I rage. I talk. I read and I write. But today, I am mostly overwhelmingly grieved. 

This morning, I couldn't even read words anymore. I just sat and looked at the pictures. Picture after picture, video after video, of darkness, fire, rubble, guns, death. It just continues to rage. On and on. Many have completely dismissed the peaceful protests that preceded and still intersperse within this devastation, or the violence that sparked those protests. I feel strongly that we should not do that - we must not be distracted from the truth within the peaceful protests. But today, I saw it differently. All I could do was look at the devastation and mourn. The pictures seared into my brain and all I could think is, "this is what we've become." This huge pile of burned rubble. Is this who we are? Is this who we want to be? Those people out there, throwing rocks and glass, toting guns, screaming obscenities? They are us. We just do it from the comfort of our living rooms, around our dinner tables, in our churches, lobbing rocks and shooting guns virtually through our smart phones - but we're still destroying one another. We cast dispersion their way, but really, they're us. 

(And I recognize that at this point those of you reading this that know me and know my leanings may feel like I'm passing judgment on those with different opinions than mine, but please know this is not the case. I sat looking at those pictures and videos this morning and I saw myself in them as well. I've allowed my anger to overcome my compassion. I've allowed my judgment to overcome my mercy. I am in need of repentance.)

Do we want to be people that just rage? That attack and blame and distort reality to fit our own agendas? Do we want to be people that sit in the comfort of our own homes and determine that we are qualified to be judge and jury? Do we want to be people that tune it all out and preach that it's not real? Do we want to be the priest and the Levite, or do we want to be the Samaritan?

We have allowed this. We have created this. We've turned away from pain when we should have been sitting with others in their sorrow. We have closed our ears to cries for justice, rather than fighting for change alongside those being crushed. We have chosen comfort and isolation over stepping into the hard places of families that desperately needed our support and encouragement. We have looked at others' misfortune, brought on by the oppression of others, and determined that they somehow deserve it, rather than bringing hope. 

We have listened to those in power as they have painted the other side as less than human. And we believed them. We began to chant with them, instead of joining our voices with those crying out for relief. We picked our sides and drew up battle lines. These are not partisan issues. We've allowed those in power to twist them into partisan issues, and we've listened to them, believed them, but they are not. These are Kingdom issues.

We've forgotten what we said we believed. Truth, character, love of neighbor, integrity, compassion, mercy, justice, humility. We've forgotten that this world is not our home, our allegiance is not to a country, but to a King. We've forgotten that He has promised to restore all things - that He's asked us to join Him in that restoration. We've taken up swords, yet say we serve the One that told us to lay them down. 

We've stopped listening to our King. We've shut our eyes and closed our ears to all but what keeps us comfortable. We cry, "Peace, peace" when there is no peace.

We do not learn. We do not mourn. We do not weep. We do not repent.  

We need to look at those pictures, those faces, the devastation, the rubble - and see ourselves.

Memes and Other Snark

How does one go about creating a "National ___________ Day"? I'm asking for a friend. That friend is me.

The day I'd like to see? National No Memes or Snark on Social Media Day. I'm curious what that would look like. And what it might spark in us. 

Any of you that know me or still actually follow me, know I don't think social media should be just babies, good food and fun trips (although it should  definitely include that). I do think it should be about engagement on important issues. Whether we like it or not, for good or for evil, social media isn't going anywhere. At least for the foreseeable future, here we are. For those of us who choose to participate in it, it should be a reflection of who we actually are in the real world, not just the dressed up version we sometimes tend to show in this space. I want to see this as a platform to begin to know people, beyond their best, idealized selves. It certainly needs to be more than Facebook, it needs to go deeper than our feeds, into real life spaces, but if we're intentional, it can begin here. I want to learn new things here. I want to know what you're reading, who you're learning new things from. I want to grow and I love when one of you shares a perspective I've never considered and challenges me in that growth. I want to know how you navigated hard things, where you failed and what you learned from it, where you succeeded and what you learned from that.  Aaaaand babies, food and fun trips.

But, what I do not think it should be:

• snark,
• memes that try to encapsulate things we hold dear into 15 words or less (or more often and with more pain to others, things we despise encapsulated into 15 words or less),
• hateful responses on others' pages,
• characterizing "the other" as functioning with diabolical, evil intent at all times,
• name-calling,
• reducing people to their opinions on one or two issues, 
• de-humanizing language,
  
• linking articles that do any of the above things

I'll be the first to raise my hand and admit that one of my spiritual gifts may very well be sarcasm. I love a good, quippy, sarcastic meme - and sometimes, if they're done well, even those that I fundamentally disagree with. I often will literally laugh out loud when reading them. 

BUT...

So many posts these days are crafted intentionally to minimize others, to de-humanize, to separate and divide. I see people talk about all the ways they hate the division in our country and on social media, yet then post things like this - that will, as their goal, perpetuate and widen the divide. They shut down conversation, rather than invite it. They hurt rather than heal. They force our opponent into the opposing corner to shore up and come at us even harder.

One of the things I've tried to challenge myself with since stepping back into Facebook is to avoid memes, to avoid sarcastic responses that encourage us vs. them. It's hard sometimes. I'll be honest, sometimes I feel like people "deserve" the lash of my sarcastic tongue - they've earned it. Sometimes I just think it's funny. But then I try to think - even if it is funny, how will it be received by some one on an opposing side of this discussion? Will it encourage engagement or division? I want to encourage engagement. No one changes, no divides are healed, by being shamed. 

If you're a meme spreader, if you share the gift of sarcasm along with me, if you're just really angry with a lot of really frustrating people right now and you'd like to let that all spew,...if you're any of those things, I'd like to encourage you to pick a few days in a row and just choose to not. Choose to use a few more words and explain yourself, ask good questions and listen fully to the answers - then ask some more good questions. Let's see if it sparks a new way of engaging in some of us.

Blessed are the Peacemakers

I've got some stuff to say. I will preface this by saying that this post will touch on some somewhat personal points, but the vast majority of what I post on this subject will be to magnify the voices of POC, of people leading and teaching in profound ways in this area. God has indeed raised up some people for such a time as this and I want to keep pointing others toward them, toward their voices.

Saturday night, my son participated in one of the protests in Oklahoma City. As they marched, they saw a few people making destructive choices and tried to stop any they saw, encouraging non-violence as they went. It ended at the downtown Oklahoma City police department, many of the protesters on their knees. Sometime around midnight, they were told to go home. No curfew had been instituted at this point and they did not leave. (This is the point of a protest, to disrupt the status quo, to stop the normal flow of the thing that is terribly wrong, to pray the disruption of normalcy will get someone to listen.) Police shot tear gas into the crowd while most of the protesters were on their knees, arms in the air. They dispersed, but returned after gas thinned out. This happened a couple of times. In the midst of one of these, an officer shot a tear gas canister from a grenade launcher square into the back of my son's head - as he and the others were retreating. Not at the ground. Not in the air. At his head. And did I mention he was retreating? A second one hit his arm after the first blast knocked him to the ground. Bystanders there specifically for the purpose of providing medic help if needed helped my son to safety and bandaged him until he could go to the ER  for treatment. He'll be okay with a couple of days rest, but the wound was significant.

This, in abbreviated form, is the text from my son that I woke up to early Sunday morning. I was completely overwhelmed, I was terrified for him, I was worried more than I can describe, I was, and still am, incredibly angry. When he called me later in the morning to assure me again he was okay, the sound of his voice, knowing he was indeed, at least physically, okay... The relief nearly took me to my knees, tears would not stop.

There is no greater fear for a mother, not one, than the fear of something happening to one of your babies. Their being an adult changes nothing of that fear. We would do literally anything, and I do mean anything, to protect our children from harm.

As I sank, in tears of relief - "he's really okay, thank You, Jesus, he's really okay" -- my very next thought was this: Mamas of black children face this kind of fear almost every single day. This kind of relief every time their black babies (no matter their age) get home from hanging out with their friends. Every time their husband gets home from work or goes out for a run. And for their men, every time their wife or daughter gets home (unless it's Breonna Taylor who wasn't safe even sleeping in her own bed). I cannot tell you how many times I've been reduced to tears in the last 36 hours. Tears from sorrow, from rage, from worry. 

Next thought? This kind of stress every damn day of your life, and it's been happening for generations? I get why they're screaming in the streets. We should be standing next to them. Their children are our children. We need to be angry. We must be angry. Anger at the sin that destroys us is righteous. And we have been unphased, complacent, willfully ignorant for far too long. 

Yes, there are good officers, that goes without saying. Several are men and women I know and care deeply about them and their families. I believe those officers that are in this for the common good want to see change as well. But our criminal justice system is a disaster. From top to bottom. A good cop in a bad system can only do so much good, but a bad cop in a bad system? Well, we're seeing that now. You don't have to get very close to someone this system has swallowed up (and I am) to see clearly it is designed to keep people down, it is for the profit of those at the top. It is oppressive *by design*. If you don't believe that, you're not paying attention. Read our scriptures - the prophets - they do not mince words about what God thinks of people who name His name and turn away from the pain of the oppressed.

My son is physically okay today. That is not true for way too many. I don't know what kind of lasting effects he will carry with him from this single incident, but I am certain there will be things he must work through. And this crushes his Mama. Imagine generations of families carrying repeated trauma, trauma much greater than this. This matters, guys. We must be willing to be uncomfortable enough to let the systems we as white folks have benefited from die. To repent of our indifference at best and our complicity at worst and start listening to better ways to build a system that benefits all people.

God help us all if the Church remains unwilling to be a part of the dismantling and rebuilding.

But here's the truth, as I re-read that last sentence - we cannot count on God helping us when we deliberately choose to look the other way, to say there's nothing we can do, that sin is sin and always will be this side of Heaven. This boils down to an excuse for inaction. "Your will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven." These are the words of Jesus - the one we claim to follow. He demands justice. He demands we see the oppressed, to identify the systems of oppression, to hear their voices. And rather than saying, "Peace, peace" when there is indeed no peace, we will be a part of ending it.

God, have mercy.

I pray we will stop with the peacekeeping and become true peacemakers.

Truth or Love?

I've been off Facebook and Twitter for several months until very recently and have kept it at a minimum since returning. These longer breaks have been much needed for me and God is always faithful to teach me a lot during extended fasts. It is easy to get caught up in the dopamine rush that it can bring, especially if you have passionate opinions (which I do.) It is easy to ignore the emotions and thoughts I need to deal with when I can run to scrolling anytime I have a spare quiet moment. It also helps me to realize how much time I'm wasting there and get back to connecting in real life and getting things done in the real world. Stepping away for long enough that I recognize the ways I may be filling voids with something besides Christ is critical for my spiritual health. Stepping back in to social media space in the middle of a worldwide pandemic has been, umm... startling, to say the least.

I read a book last year, Love Over Fear. I have recommended it to so many people and I'll keep recommending it. It is incredibly timely for the day and age we're living in. Since then, I have been reassessing everything about how I interact with others, both on and offline, and this reassessment continued and deepened during my social media break. If we're going to be interacting with people we disagree with, we have to learn to do it in a way that reflects Jesus. (If we're not interacting with people different from us in positive, authentic, friendship-building ways then that is a whole other set of problems and another blog post entirely.)

As Christ followers, we should be known for our love for all people. We should be characterized as truth-tellers. No matter where we sit on the theological spectrum, these are (or at least should be) non-negotiables for people of faith. The balance of this post is mostly things I have learned about myself and how I need to monitor myself on social media as well as things I've observed since rejoining Facebook during such a volatile time.

If we share/post/say something that is inaccurate, or is an outright lie, even if it's someone else's words we're sharing, and even if we didn't know at the time we posted it, shared it or said it, we are responsible for spreading lies. I've lost count of how many times I've seen something along the lines of, "even if they didn't really say this, they easily could have, so I don't regret it and I'm not taking it down."  Every single person I've seen say something like this also openly confesses to be Christian. Somewhere along the way, we've decided it's okay to slander someone (though we'll not use that word) if we think their politics or theology is vile enough. I am so burdened by how lightly we will claim Christ out of one side of our mouth and justify slandering an "enemy" from the other side.

Honestly, as I've grappled with this tendency online, I have found such ugliness within my own heart. I may not call someone ugly names or slander them outwardly, but I've harbored deep, resentful feelings toward others. I've had to deal with a heart that was willing to hold on to deep-seated animosity. Rather than consistently praying for healing and hoping for the best for "the other," I found myself finding some pleasure in public failures. Rather than praying they would be delivered from the darkness that holds them, I simply settled into my feelings of complete disregard.

We have been tasked by the One who called us to be salt and light in this world. We should be adding goodness and grace. Above all other people, Christ-followers should be extraordinarily careful that what we say and share, as well as what we harbor in our hearts, bring truth AND love. If we think what we allow to simmer under the surface will not effect our actions and behaviors, we need to revisit the teaching of Jesus.

One of my commitments in online engagement is that if I don't have time to fact check a story or a meme, then it follows that I don't have time to post it. Far too many mistakes are made and people hurt in a rush to "be right". I also try to be thoughtful about any memes I post. Are they passive-aggressive ways of attacking someone else? If so, I want to commit to not adding to the ugliness. If I wouldn't say it sitting face-to-face with an actual person that I disagree with, then my prayer is I won't blast it in a meme.

If I'm posting or responding because I'm angry, I have found I need to wait at least 24 hours before I post it or say it. Anger should never be my motivation. Anger tempts me to blame, to name-call, to shame. This is not The Way. I cannot tell you how many things I've written, held onto for 24-hours and then either radically modified or chose to not post at all (or say, or mail - I try to apply this practice to all areas). My mental health, my spiritual health, my emotional health, are all much better for this practice.

If I find out later what I've posted or said was untrue or slanted to the point of being largely untrue and inflammatory, I need to step up, admit it, apologize for any problems I may have contributed to in my rush to speak and then make amends as best I can. (I can tell you, this commitment to myself has greatly increased my consistency to track my sources before I say anything.)

If I cannot call out wrong without broad stereotyping or name-calling, if I cannot make my political or theological point AND show love, it's not time for me to make my point. If I am not truly willing to engage in a way that is open-ended, willing to listen, willing even to be wrong, then it is not time for me to make my point. There is more than enough mud-slinging and one-sided opinion blasting to go around. It shouldn't be fueled by those that name the name of Christ. I told y'all a while back that my word for 2020 is Listen. I'm working hard on learning how to do that better. And I feel strongly that includes, maybe even especially, those I disagree with. I want to learn to ask earnest, honest questions and truly listen for answers. If I'm not ready to do that, I've determined to be quiet until I can.

Am I occasionally super frustrated that I'm remaining silent while all around me people are saying stupid, wrong-headed, unloving, sometimes completely immoral things? Yup. Have I ever regretted waiting? Not so far. There have been times, as I waited, I've learned my opinion was just flat wrong. There have been times I've learned from the person I was angry with. There have been times that I found wiser, less confrontational ways to engage. There have been times that remaining silent was the right answer. But I've never regretted waiting.

We must come to terms with the fact that a lie, even if we agree with it's premise, is still a lie. 

A lie that "puts THOSE people in their place" is still. a. lie. 

We are people of truth.

We are people of love.

Social media is an utter disaster, many days, a full-fledged dumpster fire. We can be known as people that bring love, light and grace into this space, even when the conversations may be hard, even when we disagree from deep core values. We can be known for love or for pettiness and judgement, for light or for conspiracy theories and stone throwing, for engaging with grace or for shaming "the enemy". I'll tell you honestly, I fear we're too often known for the latter and it is not a good look.

I commonly hear, I'm assuming as some sort of justification for being "honest" (and I put this in quotes because nine times out of ten, that is code for being a jerk), that Jesus often had harsh words for people, called them names, overturned tables, etc. This seems to justify being awful to people or saying awful things about politicians or teachers we disagree with. If they're offended, well, then the truth is offensive... Or so the story goes. We can scale amazing heights to justify being unloving, but that is what it is - justification. I'll go there. Jesus's harshest words and actions were exclusively for the religious elite. His words for those outside His faith tradition, for those in the margins, for the poor and the vulnerable, were words of healing, grace, forgiveness, love. 

Jesus endured great persecution, to the point of death, but never for a lack of love. A great deal of his critics, in fact, hated him FOR his love and friendship with "the other". 

If I'm going to be maligned, let it be for loving too much.

Musings and COVID-19

Are any of the rest of you tired of thinking about viruses and germs?

I am not a germaphobe by any stretch of the imagination. I rarely think about the material things of this world that we cannot see with the naked eye, but this whole pandemic has caused me to think about things I have never spent any significant time musing on. I think about every. single. thing. I touch. Especially if I have to leave the house. Every. Single. Thing. And y'all? I never once before thought about how many times a day I touch my face! (It's a lot.) All this thinking on the "unseen" has me thinking about spiritually unseen things as well, so I thought I'd spend a little of my shelter-at-home time sharing a couple of random thoughts.

1. Our unseen enemy. It is so easy for us to find people to blame for all our problems in this world. Shaming and casting blame are among the easiest things for us to do when we begin to feel like life has been unfair or unjust. Let me find a person or a people group to blame for this bad thing that's happened and scream that out to the world. That'll fix it! In Ephesians, Paul tells us, "our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms". To be sure, those spiritual forces work in and through people at times, but the people are the symptom, not the disease. But gosh, it's so much easier to blame a person, isn't it? Battling a person rarely brings any lasting, systemic change. If we don't get to the root, we're just constantly putting out fires, without stopping to figure out why the fires keep raging.

I'm seeing this dynamic played out in the COVID crisis. We cannot see our enemy. It's microscopic. For sure, the battle must be waged on a macro scale - stay home, wash your hands, don't touch anything you don't have to when you do have to go out, etc., but the real battle is against this unseen enemy. We're not staying home from work or school, we're not rearranging our lives, we're not forsaking in-person time with people we love because of anything we can see. We must always keep at the forefront who the enemy in this battle is, or we'll be tempted to have big gatherings, or skip sanitizing surfaces, or washing hands diligently - after all, we look clean - we feel clean - we don't feel sick or we're not in the high risk groups. Doing it this way is no fun, we're losing money, we're bored, we're lonely. It would be easier to think that we can just go about our everyday, normal lives and just treat the sick as they come up -- but that scenario will quickly bring about more destruction than any of us want to imagine. Who is the enemy here? We can't see this enemy without looking deeply - at least not it until it's too late. We have to choose tactics that go to war with the actual enemy, not the perceived one, or we. will. lose.

So if we can learn something from this season that will last after this crisis is gone, may one of those things be that we need remember who the actual enemy is and choose strategies that work against that enemy, rather than choosing the easy way of lobbing shame and blame at each other. May it be that when we see problems, when we see people hurting, dying, treated unjustly, that rather than choosing to simply take on each individual instance (which is still important - just as treating the sick in this crisis is), we need to back up and look at what's happening under the surface that's causing the hate and injustice to spread and deal with THAT. Strategies that deal with the root may take longer, may require more of us, may be inconvenient, but this is where real, lasting change will take place.

2. We're all in this together - whether we like it or not. One of our favorite ways to describe the Church is as a Body - how all the parts are interconnected, that losing any of those parts will hurt all the parts. Sometimes I don't think we really believe it though. Even with our own physical bodies, we definitely value some parts as better than others, some parts as more worthy, some parts as easier to live without. 

When I look at how this virus grows and spreads and the drastic steps that we are being asked to take to stop it - it paints such a clear picture to me of how the Church might actually work. As medical and scientific experts have tried to explain to us in laymen's terms how to "flatten the curve" and get this virus under control, it becomes increasingly more clear how important it is that EVERYONE MATTERS. If most of us stay home, if most of us wash our hands, if most of us stop going everywhere we normally would - it will help, yes. But when one person decides they're above the laws of nature and they don't have to - they hurt the rest of us. All of us are hurt when one person decides they don't need to be careful, don't need to watch what they touch or where they go or who they're around. We don't have the luxury of "every man is an island" in this scenario. We are interconnected whether we like it or not, whether we want it or not. For the whole to be healthy, every single individual part matters. We can opt out - but we are hurting potentially thousands of others when we do.

Let's find a way to transfer this new way of life to the spiritual: For sure and certain, there is disease in the Church. We need to face that fact and get serious about rooting it out. If you're in a Church that is harmful or abusive, speak out about it - be a part of cutting out the disease, leave and find a healthy place to be. But please don't let that be the reason you give up. The rest of us need you. And you need us. Every single one of us matter.

When I wash my hands for 20 seconds so many times a day, it feels like no one else benefits, but in truth, potentially hundreds do. If I could see my value within the Body of Christ with the same weight that I assign to washing my hands during this crisis, what kind of difference would it make? If I saw the value of my small investments in my faith community as being as valuable as I see choosing to stay home rather than going to that party down the street, what impact could I have? How much healthier would our church communities be? How much healthier would the worldwide church be? If I can stop thinking of Church as all the different ways it asks things of me that are sometimes hard, or interruptions to my routine or keeping me from watching all my shows on Netflix or asking me to give up something I'm used to and comfortable with, and instead think of the value that my investment gives others and the value that another person's investment is giving to me - what kind of difference would that make? When we continue to think we can Lone Ranger our Christian journey, we are hurting others - others that need the interconnectedness of this Body to thrive. Whether we want to admit it or not, whether we like it or not - we are connected to other another. Your choices effect me. My choices effect you.

When I can grasp that the small things I'm willing to sacrifice for the good of the other can actually change the world, the world will actually change, right?

So --

Wash your hands.

Stay home.

Fight the actual enemy, rather than the easy target.

Invest in what benefits the whole.

************

What are you learning during this season?

Matthew 23: Some Harsh Words for the Church

Wow, y'all.

Jesus was HARSH with the religious leaders of His time. He cut them zero slack when it came to talking one way and doing another. He cut zero slack for a lack of integrity, for a lack of compassion.

Here's a taste:

"They tie up heavy, cumbersome loads and put them on other people’s shoulders, but they themselves are not willing to lift a finger to move them." -- Do we create rules, laws, boundaries, that are no where near the actual words of Jesus and then expect others to live under burdens Jesus never intended? Do we elevate things that are not central to the gospel, or even part of the gospel, and phrase them and teach them as if they are equivalent? I'd like to get specific here, but I recognize that we all have our own blinders on, so I'll leave this by praying that I will see where I personally have a tendency to do this.

"Everything they do is done for people to see...they love the place of honor at banquets and the most important seats in the synagogues; they love to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces." -- Have we elevated "celebrity" Christians, hanging on their words without testing them against the words of Christ? Do we make our decisions about what we'll say/do/be know for based on whether it will have us more accepted and elevated within our groups (even if our group is a small one)?

"You shut the door of the kingdom of heaven in people’s faces. You yourselves do not enter, nor will you let those enter who are trying to." -- Do we effectively shut people out with our rhetoric? Do we speak of love, but keep people out with our actions? Is the gospel we preach today actually the good news that was originally brought to us in Jesus?

"You travel over land and sea to win a single convert, and when you have succeeded, you make them twice as much a child of hell as you are." -- Yikes, y'all. Sometimes Jesus had no chill.  Are we creating all these structures, rules, litmus tests and then spending as much time passing these on to new followers as we do any truths of Jesus? We're creating others in our own image rather than that of Christ.  And also, I know I'm gonna make a lot of people angry with this, but I'm goin' here -- we send people all over the globe to preach the gospel, telling beautiful, sweet stories of the native people groups, taking an abundance of pictures that show our compassion and love for the other -- but then allow them to be painted in broad swaths as dangerous criminals when they try to come here. And let's not go down the "illegal" road - because it's gone far beyond that at this point. The rhetoric of today is flatly dangerous to anyone coming here, documented or undocumented, with brown or black skin, and many in the Church have been complicit, at a minimum, by their silence. 

"You give a tenth of your spices—mint, dill and cumin. But you have neglected the more important matters of the law—justice, mercy and faithfulness...You blind guides! You strain out a gnat but swallow a camel." -- Do we pride ourselves on our sacrificial obedience, talk a big game about "the Word of God", yet turn a blind eye to those around us (both here and abroad) that are drowning in oppression and bigotry and hate? If I follow all the laws to the letter, but do not care about those who are hurting (or care about them in word only), do not take the time to SEE them, do not take the time and action required to bring justice and mercy, none of it matters.

"You clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence...In the same way, on the outside you appear to people as righteous but on the inside you are full of hypocrisy and wickedness." -- I heard a "leader" a couple of weeks back (one that I've seen his videos and teachings shared many, many, many times on Facebook) say that we should not judge our leaders by their words because we all fail at this at times - that our words are not a reflection of our character. I'll say it again - he said our words are not a reflection of our character. I'm sorry, but that's exactly what they're a reflection of. See the Sermon on the Mount and the book of James if you've got any doubts. When I call someone a fool, my very soul is in danger (Jesus' words, not mine). I don't like that. But it is truth. When my anger becomes so great, that I'm willing to attack another person made in the image and likeness of God, it is a reflection of what is happening in my heart. I must be willing to take a long, hard look at that. When we justify sin because we like the outcome, we will become the target for some of Jesus' harshest words.

"Look, your house is left to you desolate." -- here's the "promise" of where these choices lead. Our house will be left to us desolate. I fear that's what we're watching happen today. We've allowed the leaders among us to exemplify these exact things and not called them to account. Sometimes we actively participate in these behaviors, but sometimes, we just sit back, complicit by our silence. We may believe that speaking will "give the Church a black eye", or stir up division, but our silence in not calling out sin within our own is what is destroying us - from the inside out. Our greatest enemy is not "the world" or "the culture" - our greatest enemy is ourselves. 

Jesus was not afraid to call a spade a spade - even in His own house, in His own group. He did this in public settings. And He did stir people up. He did cause division. People wanted Him dead, as a matter of fact, after He said these things. He did not rant and rave about what the culture was doing, but He spoke fearlessly about sin, character and integrity within His own religious group, within the leadership of His people. He spoke fiercely and fearlessly for those that were beaten down, victimized and forgotten by the structures and sins of their leadership.

I've read this chapter about five times this morning and it is breaking my heart. The first time I read through it, I will confess, I saw the sin of others. The more times I read it though, I still see that, but I'm also seeing my own sin, my own tendency to bend or add to the truth to fit my narrative. Our only narrative must become that of Jesus. Matthew 5-7, Matthew 25: 31-46, -- justice, mercy, faithfulness. Anything else is destruction.

I pray I'll have the heart of Jesus for those around me that are crushed under the weight of a gospel that is no longer the good news.

I pray that the Church, myself included, will return to the true Good News of Jesus and all that encompasses.

I pray we will have the boldness to speak against the same things Jesus spoke against, no matter the cost.

I pray that we will forsake acceptance, popularity, self-indulgence, bigotry and fear for the sake of Truth, our neighbor, the Church, and our God.