The PROBLEM with your theology is...

An Open Letter to Disrespectful “Christians”

On Saturday, our church had representation at the PrideFest in Providence, Rhode Island. We had a booth, take-aways, our banner and a variety of warm friendly faces from our congregation greeting those that passed by. As I stood in front of the booth, I would often engage with those who were reading our banner or looking at our rainbow doors. I’d start the conversation quickly as I know that most street fairs pull for our attention in a million different ways so I needed to get to the heart of the conversation as quickly as possible. “Do you go to church?” is the question that I asked followed by; “Why not?” since the majority of folks answered “no” to my first question.

The responses ranged from “I don’t know” to “I’ve not found a church that is actually as welcoming as they claim to be.” I am making a huge assumption in that those I encountered probably identified with a sexuality other than heterosexual…but I can’t be completely sure.

This exchange went on throughout the day with many folks willing to engage in healthy conversation, learning about our church and challenging me to convince them that our church is truly as welcoming as we say it is.

But then the healthy engagements came to a grinding halt.

When I asked my next conversation partners if they were part of a church, the woman laughed and said “yes” as if I was offending her for asking. She then began to question the t-shirt I was wearing. It is a red shirt with the words “Love the sinner, hate the sin” written down the front. Each of the words has a line through it… except for the word “love.” The concept of the shirt is that the phrase “love the sinner, hate the sin” has all too often been used to cause harm to members of the LGBTQ community and that by leaving the word “love” as the only focus it shows us how we are to live. We are to simply love!

This woman and her male companion continued to question my shirt, the church’s banner which claimed that “Jesus didn’t reject anyone. Neither do we” (a slogan borrowed from our denomination, The United Church of Christ). They questioned my own personal theology and whether I believed in substitutionary atonement (Jesus dying as payment for our sins). They asked if Hitler is in Heaven…why does everyone always use Hitler for that example? 

They went on and on, grilling me on Old Testament law and New Testament commandments. And I think I was doing pretty well, solid in my faith, solid in my theology, respectful in the exchange. That is until the young man said this…

“The PROBLEM with your theology is…”

And that’s where I shut the conversation down.

Up until that point I had been willing to engage with these conservative “Christians” in their little game of Christian theology trivial pursuit. I had been respectful in listening to them share their theology even though it was very different than mine. I never said they were wrong. I never said I was right. I listened and responded. Until they insulted me.

To say to someone; “the PROBLEM with your theology is…” is basically saying; “I don’t care what you believe… it’s wrong!” How does that attitude spread the Gospel?

I told the couple that I was done. Having now been insulted, I was no longer going to play their game. I gave them the church’s information and invited them to contact me to set up another time where we could sit down and have a respectful conversation. But in that moment, I was done.

What did they think they were going to prove? Did they think that I, a gay Christian man, an ordained United Church of Christ Pastor, was somehow going to change my view of our God and think that I was somehow wrong in thinking that God loves me?

Did they think that by telling me that there is a problem with my theology that I was going to grovel at their feet to be spoon-fed more of their hate-slinging?

Did they think that by trying to make me feel as if my theology is wrong that they were somehow advancing the Kingdom of God?

The Jesus that I follow is a man of respect. He challenged people in order to help them grow. He spoke the truth to power because he saw power being misused and misrepresented. He lived a life of meaning, encouraging others to discover how they could align their faith with their life. And yet he never insulted people, saying that he was right and they were wrong…end of story, no more discussion.

Jesus engaged in healthy debate, healthy dialogue. And we should too.

To claim Christianity as our faith and then to go about our lives causing harm to others, insulting them, talking behind their back, making a mockery of those trying to authentically live out their faith is a slap to Jesus’ face.

The movement that began with Jesus is one that is meant to bring people to a life-fulfilling relationship with a God who loves them. It is meant to provide a new lens through which we are to see the world… a lens of compassion and justice. The movement is meant to bring about change in the world through respect.

So to my disrespectful “Christian” conversation partners… I’m still waiting for the phone call to find a time to meet. Until then, I hope that God can find a way to enter in and crack open your hearts in a way that allows so much love and compassion to flow in there will no longer be room for hate. That is my prayer for you, for myself and for all who wish to live our lives following Jesus. May we love one another as God has shown us. And may we advance the Kingdom of God in doing so.

It's time...

It's not quite a week since Epiphany. Christmas has come and gone. The Magi's gifts have been given. Our homes have been stripped of any holiday glitter and the sanctuary is once again emptied of the decorations. There are no more wreathes, no poinsettias, no candles in the windows. Had we not been present in this Sacred Space during the Advent and Christmas seasons, we would have no idea what we missed.

But I was here. I did see the Meeting House decked with boughs of greenery and symbols of the season. I did find myself surrounded by the warm, welcoming candles. I did feel the power that this time of year presents. And now it is all gone.

The morning after Epiphany (the first day that the Sanctuary was emptied of its decorations), I sat in one of the pews and looked around.

It doesn't seem possible that Christmas is over.
It doesn't seem possible that Lent will soon be beginning.

I've just celebrated the adoration of the Christ Child and now I must prepare for what comes next...his death.

It's too soon!

I want to savor the experience of hearing the story of his birth once again.
I want to capture the brilliance of the moment when the congregation sings Silent Night.
I want to hold on to the light present in the faces of our children.
I want to stay here...safe, warm, comfortable.

As my eyes pan across the front of our worship space, it's as if a voice were calling to me. My focus lands on the cross, the symbol of our faith, high above the choir pews. It calls out to me in such a way that the blurriness of this new seasons seems to come into sharp focus.

It's time...

It's time to move beyond the wreathes and the candles.
It's time to move beyond the Advent and Christmas hymns.
It's time to move beyond that which is safe, warm and comfortable.

It's time to turn the focus from Bethlehem to Jerusalem.

Jesus will age very quickly in these next few weeks. No longer will he be the Holy Infant. No longer will he be the toddler receiving the gifts of the Magi. He will be grown and steeped in his ministry, focused on the future and working diligently to bring us all along.

It's time...

It's time to leave the manger behind.
It's time to move beyond Herod, the shepherds, the angels and the Magi.
It's time to focus on a new task.
It's time to spread the word, to share the Good News.
It's time to speak the truth to power.
It's time to overturn the tables in the temple.
It's time to teach our faith to the younger generations.
It's time to challenge the status quo.
It's time to feed the hungry clothe the naked.
It's time to release the prisoners and bring sight to the blind.

It's time to be an active part of Jesus' ministry in the world.

And then it is as if the voice calls to me once again... All that we have experienced along our Advent and Christmas journeys has prepared us for what is to come. We could not be about the work and ministry that Jesus shares had we not understood that which he represents, that to which we were witness in the experiences surrounding his birth.

And now I understand. And now I am ready.

It's time...

And then, there was silence...

When we ask our son Jacob to tell us the names of our pets he does very well to name the dogs, Vinnie and Troy, and the parrot, Gwen. But when we ask him the cat's name, a blank look comes across his face. His brain is processing the question but for some reason, he's unable to answer. Well, the reason is that our cat, Baby Girl (because I'm sure you were wondering her name) is rarely seen.

When we lived in Illinois, Baby Girl spent the majority of her time in our semi-finished basement. It was a place of safety for her, out of the reach of the ever-active dogs. She would make her bed on an old blanket or tablecloth and sleep the days away.

Upon moving to Rhode Island, we were determined to have the animals existing in the same spaces. We blocked the entrance to the basement to keep them out (and to eliminate the possibility of pet hair coming in close contact with the numerous yards of fabric in our sewing/crafting area). And the animals began to find a way of existing within the same space. Of course, if Baby Girl would come running through the house, the dogs were sure to follow. But if she took her time, quietly moving from one room to the other, she was quite often sure to pass through unnoticed.

Lately, Baby Girl has been spending a lot of time either on our bed or a bed in one of the spare rooms. She sleeps a lot! Well, she is up there in years and I believe that when I get up there in years I will be sleeping a lot as well. But something else has changed.

Baby Girl no longer is found venturing into the same rooms occupied by the dogs. She is no longer exhibiting that brave behavior of jumping up onto the living room furniture, even though the dogs are within a few feet from her. She is rarely seen simply passing through. Instead, she maneuvers primarily at night, when the dogs are in their kennels or at times when they are outdoors.

Why the change? What has occurred that has shifted the new-found, Rhode Island, kin-dom of Heaven experience?

Things seemed to be heading in a great direction, going so well. And then, there was silence...

Baby Girl has lost her hearing.

It seems as if it has come on suddenly. One day she would hear our calls to her. One day she was able to hear the scampering feet of her canine housemates. One day she was able to hear... and the next day she was not.

I know that some folks experience this in their own lives, drastic changes in mere moments... life-altering changes. The loss of hearing is a fairly common one, however most that I know have lost (or are losing) their hearing gradually. But we suffer other loss as well... loss of employment, loss of relationship, loss of friends and loved-ones. Sometimes there is a gradual movment toward the loss... but many times it comes suddenly... too suddenly.

In a way, I have grieved for Baby Girl in her loss. I've felt sympathy for her. Her whole world has changed.

She has needed to adapt. And that she has.

She now relies on her other senses to feel instead of hear. She feels the subtle (and at-times, not-so-subtle-seven-year-old-feet-stomping-and-running) vibrations in the house. She feels our footsteps, doors closing, objects being moved. And most times, she simply sleeps, oblivious to the world around her, but safe in her new routine, her new bed.

Baby Girl's transition is one to which I feel I need to pay attention. How she has adapted to this major change in her life draws a complete parallel to change that I (we) experience. I need to see that when things change, in small or major ways, I have the ability to adapt. Though change may be followed closely by that overwhelming sense of loss and grief, I must trust that "this too shall pass..."

A little extra sleep. New routines. A shift in surrounds. Doing what I need to do to take care of myself. These may make all the difference, and allow me (us) to move through the change in as amazingly healthy way.

Baby Girl is asleep on the spare bed as I write this...and I find myself filled with a new sense of joy, replacing the sympathy, as Baby Girl has shown me how its done. And she's done it well!