Love, apologies, and prayer breakfasts

I sat in a room filled with hundreds of Christians and felt a little bit like an outsider.

This was the second year I’ve attended the Iowa Prayer Breakfast… held every Maundy Thursday in Des Moines.  It includes prayers for our state and leaders, music, and a keynote message.  On the site, it clearly states that “people from all walks of life come to enjoy this Maundy Thursday celebration.”

I am so grateful for the opportunity to go and be in prayer with so many faithful people and for those who have invited me.  And that is because my hope and prayer for this kind of public gathering of people of faith is that the above statement is lived out:  that the tent is big enough for all walks of life and all corners of the Christian family to find a place in that room. After all,  ALL of our prayers are needed during these difficult times.

Yet, that wasn’t entirely my experience.

I found myself constantly wanting to interject with a “yes, but…” or “what about…” or “that’s not exactly right…”

The lineup of past speakers for this event has been full of Christian apologists and I found myself wanting to apologize for the public theology I was encountering.  I looked out on the 1,000+ people in attendance and feared that some might think this was the full scope of Christianity. And while it wasn’t appropriate to stand and lift up counterpoints in the moment, I do have this platform to lift up a different voice.

During the event, more than one speaker lifted up the religious persecution of Christians and Jews.  Our governor said, “The lives, the safety, the well-being of Christians and Jews especially in the Middle East is certainly threatened.”  Yet, Religious persecution is not limited to these two faiths. In the wake of the attacks in Brussels, I mourn for the loss of life there, and know that Yazidis, Turkmen, and Shia Muslims are daily under attack from ISIS in their homes as well.  I inhabit a Christian faith that also weeps with Sikh and Muslim and Buddhist and unbelieving brothers and sisters around the world who fear for their lives because of this kind of persecution.

As Branstad turned his gaze to threats to our religious freedom in the United States, I lift up the words of George Washington in his letter to the Hebrew Congregation:

…happily, the Government of the United States, which gives to bigotry no sanction, to persecution no assistance, requires only that they who live under its protection should demean themselves as good citizens in giving it [toleration] on all occasions their effectual support… May the children of the stock of Abraham who dwell in this land continue to merit and enjoy the good will of the other inhabitants – while every one shall sit in safety under his own vine and fig tree and there shall be none to make him afraid.

The Christian faith does not ask us to abandon our love, care, and concern for brothers and sisters of other faiths. Rather than being “under attack,” I am free to practice my faith every single day without fear and yet I know that Muslim brothers and sisters right here in Des Moines sometimes have to be careful about how they do so.  As such, I was moved to tears as Pope Francis washed and kissed the feet of Muslim refugees on Maundy Thursday.   As a fellow clergywoman, Janie McElwee Smith, wrote:

The truth is this: no matter what else we do, say, or stand for, if we do not follow Christ’s commandment to love all of God’s children as Jesus has loved us, then we have not just missed the point. Nothing else we do will matter ?

What if this Iowa Prayer Breakfast, held on Maundy Thursday, was an extension of the command Jesus gives on this day: to love.

What if we lifted up in our prayers of lament and confession the realities of racism, homelessness, addiction, hunger, and poverty in our state.  What if instead of simply naming the evils and wickedness of our nation (and subtly placing the blame on the sinful people out there), we actually turned that same introspection to our own hearts – to the intolerance, the greed, the fears we perpetuate in spite of our proclaimed trust in the Lord. In a room filled with elected leaders, what if together, we repented of our failure to love the last, the least, and the lost.  After all, Maundy Thursday reminds us that in spite of the disciples’ failings, fears, and betrayal, Jesus loved them and washed their feet and continued to trust them with the message and mission of the Kingdom of God.  This day, above all days, it is appropriate to find ourselves in that crowd of those who turned their backs and to admit our sins. What if the message we heard on this morning was a challenge to a room full of influential leaders to repent and live more faithfully as disciples of Christ in the world?

I am exceptionally curious if this event is as politically partisan as it appeared this time, every year.  It felt more like the faith was promoting the elected leadership, rather than the leadership together with the public seeking God’s direction and blessing.  If this, truly, was a space where all Christians could pray for Iowa, in spite of our political leanings, then I think there would be much greater room for confession, lament, thanksgiving, and prayers for vision and unity.  I think whenever we surround ourselves with a particular perspective, we have a hard time seeing ourselves clearly.    Our current republican administration was represented through those elected officials in attendance and I can imagine those who are tasked with organizing the event are careful not to ruffle feathers. I wonder if it felt tilted in the opposite direction during democratic administrations.  Or does this gathering represent a more particular lens of Christian tradition?   My imagination and hope for this event is that the walls dividing us politically might be leveled as we share a meal with those with which we might not agree. After all, we share a common love for Jesus and this world and that love crosses all boundaries.

Two final words:

download1) Our speaker, Dr. Alveda King, did hearken back to the original languages in interpreting Romans 13, but then lifted up a cry against using X-mas instead of Christmas… with great applause from the crowd.  Note: the X used in this expression is a Christogram, in this case the letter “Chi” and the first letter of Christ in the Greek language, often used alone to represent Christ.  It can also be seen in the chi-rho, where the two Greek letters are combined to represent the person of Christ.

2) I have only attended for two years, but I have yet to see a clergywoman speak from the platform and three pastors spoke/prayed each year. I’d be happy to hear it has been otherwise in the past. Also, only four of the speakers listed since 1977 were women, including this year’s keynote. Both years, thankfully, scripture has been shared by a laywoman.  One way to intentionally show that “people from all walks of life” are welcome is to include people from all walks of life as speakers.

 

Good News and Good Works

in Lubumbashi, Democratic Republic of the Congo. A UMNS photo by Mike DuBose.I’ve had some conversations recently about the work of Imagine No Malaria from folks who are concerned that we are doing good, but we aren’t sharing the gospel.

My first response to that question is to seek out and share more stories about how lives are being changed and, yes, saved, because of the work we have done.  We are seeking more of these types of stories from those who work in the field and can tell us about how and where the word of God is being planted and bearing fruit through the work we are doing with Imagine No Malaria.

My second response is to push back against the divide between the good news and good works.  The book of James reminds us they are like two sides of the same coin, that we can’t have faith without works.  Matthew 25 reminds us that our faithful response is to care for the least of these.  The good news Jesus preached was about more than simply eternal salvation – it was about release for the captives and recovery of sight for the blind.  It was both now and later.  Salvation is already and not yet.  When we share food and shelter and health with those who do not have them, we are sharing the gospel… we are showing them that God loves them, that we love them, and that we love because we were first loved.  We begin the relationship that plants seeds and waters sprouts and eventually bears fruit.

One reality of our missionary work over the last 160 years in Africa is that we have often built churches and clinics and schools side-by-side.  We have not necessarily made strict separations between good works and good news… they are one and the same.  We are focused on saving lives in all sorts of ways – through a relationship with Jesus, through literacy, through health, through empowerment, through justice, through hope, through the scriptures, through systematic change.

Today, I came across this blog post from a young man who I believe helps to put into words what has been on the tip of my tongue… when we heal the sick and empower the poor and are in relationship with those who are struggling – we aren’t just sharing the gospel, we are living it, we are making it known, and others will see.

I encourage you to read Greg’s story here, but the highlights for me and for our work:

…What is more important is to communicate the message of our faith, the Gospel (hint: it’s about more than just being a sinner).

But unfortunately, we haven’t been taught how to communicate the Gospel. We’ve been taught how to lead Bible studies and have fellowship, how to run prayer meetings, and draw the bridge diagram.

But we haven’t learned to communicate the Gospel.

Why do I say this? Because the Gospel is not only communicated through words, but also how we live our lives. And when I was faced with the opportunity to live according to the Gospel, I felt obligated to abandon it on the street, on my way to being a good Bible study leader…

…So that’s why I quit being a Bible study leader. Not because it’s the wrong thing to be, but because it kept me too busy to do the right thing. Because while I participated dutifully in Christian activities, a homeless man sat outside in the cold and ate popcorn. Because Shane Claiborne reminded me that Jesus would have quit being a Bible study leader too, to sit alongside that man, if for no other reason than to ask him his name and eat popcorn together.

And because Eboo Patel taught me that you don’t have to do that alone. Even if you’re the only Christian eating popcorn with a homeless man while your fellow believers sing songs and socialize upstairs, if you invite them, there are Jews, Sikhs, Muslims, Hindus, atheists, Jains, and Buddhists who will join you. And the funny thing is that authentic dialogue begins to happen in these sorts of situations – you build relationships and you share stories, simply because you all agree that no one should have to eat popcorn alone in the cold.

And even though you might not observe the conversion experience your evangelism training taught you to expect, your actions have communicated something deeper than your words, and your stories have taken on fuller meaning. And there’s a good chance that you’ve convinced them all of something about the Gospel.

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Our work on the ground is often done in partnership with other faith communities who share our concern for saving lives.  In a story written in 2010 about our work in the Democratic Republic of Congo, Sheikh Usseni Faray talked about the importance of local congregations standing together in this work:

Government can only start things once and they stop. But us, we are the community representing the people, and we preach and work with the people all the time. So if they keep the church people involved, I think it will be a lasting program and many people will benefit.

We do these good works because we are people of faith and because Jesus sends us out to heal the sick and preach the gospel.  That gospel is shared through our actions, through every dollar we raise, through every net that is hung in a home, through every relationship built, and every life that is given a reason to hope.  Sometimes we are speaking and singing and praising the name of Jesus.  Sometimes we are simply present. And sometimes that is enough.

Photo: (top) in Lubumbashi, Democratic Republic of the Congo. A UMNS photo by Mike DuBose. (right) A United Methodist church choir welcomes visitors to Kamina, Democratic Republic of the Congo. A delegation of United Methodist church leaders and public health workers visited Kamina in observance of World Malaria Day. A UMNS photo by Mike DuBose.

Fear or Dialogue?

(This is a post I wrote last fall, but for some reason I never published… as we come closer to the tenth anniversary of September 11th, I thought I might go ahead and push the “publish” button)

A sort of running theme here on the blog on the past has been the very simple idea that an idea, a situtation, a truth is not black and white.  When there are people involved, when there are feelings involved, when there is history involved, suddenly truth becomes a little technicolor and spins wildly out of control.

I have largely been staying out of the whole “Ground Zero Mosque” conversation, partly because I didn’t have all of the information.  And now, the information I get is so wildly varied that I don’t know what to do about it.  But I think even beyond that, I’m not quite sure what to say.  There are many who have said what I feel better than I possibly could.  But not saying anything, means that I am allowing myself to float out there in the nebulous zone of people who don’t care… and that is not at all where I am.

So let’s look a little at the playing field of this technicolor debate.

People on one side of the story are saying that it is “soft jihad” and the people are claiming control of territory they have conquered as a seat of muslim extremism and others claim that by going forward with this sort of community center and interfaith dialogue that Park51 is actually more of an American Muslim jihad against terrorism itself.  These things claim exactly the opposite, so which is true?

Some say that it is at Ground Zero – on hallowed ground.  Yet, from maps, it is actually 2 blocks away and there is already at least one mosque in the same area.  Park51 is actually farther away from Ground Zero than a stripclub – which, by the way, doesn’t appear to have too many problems with the new neighbor. The Associated Press is actually encouraging  that we quit referring to this thing as the “Ground Zero Mosque” altogether, even though it was one of the first agencies to begin to use that language.

It’s not entirely accurate to call the place a mosque either. Prayers have been happening at the space since 2009 and while Imam Feisal Abdul-Rauf will run the Cordoba House (the multifaith dialogue and community center), the mosque will become a separate non-profit and an Imam has not yet been chosen. The Park 51 site will include a swimming pool, restaurant and culinary school, auditorium, a 9/11 memorial, and on the side, a mosque.

Some believe it is an affront to all of those who died in the attacks on September 11, but as this article points out – survivors are conflicted… and survivors and survivors families were not only Christian, but atheist, and Jewish, and Muslim.  To deny a place of worship and prayer for Muslim families who suffered loss and were destroyed by the viscious terrorist attack also seems cruel.

The simple fact is that its complicated.  On a pastoral note, I understand that for some, this placement and site is a constant reminder of the roots of the violence that destroyed lives on September 11th.  But American Muslims were not the ones who flew planes into the WTC. What we need is more interfaith dialogue and healing, not less.  Those who are opposing the site have turned to an attack against Islam itself which only futhers the need for a space in which dialogue and cultural sharing can happen. It seems like we are losing our fundamental ideas of respect and religious tolerance that our nation was founded upon… though has often failed at embodying.

A fellow pastor reminds me that we have turned the construction of this one Islamic center into the center of the much larger debate about the place of Islam in our culture.

While the media has focused on the Ground Zero mosque for it’s symbolism, the fact is that in places like Murfreesboro and Antioch, TN there are even more heated battles over the ability of Muslims to build community centers and places of worship. In these places there is no symbolic consideration, no hallowed grounds to protect. No, the concerns raised are blatant NIMBYism, driven by the same motivations that led Puritans to tie Baptists to dunking stools and hold them under water until they drowned. And as folks search for justifications for their fears, the rhetoric rises and political leaders co-opt those fears for political purposes.

It makes me sick that we are so easily willing to succumb to fears about the other.  It makes me just as angry to see the signs of protest waving over these mosques as it does when I see Christians waving around “God Hates Fags” signs.

When Christ encountered those who were different from himself – the Samaritan woman at the well, the adulterer about to be stoned, he told them the truth in love.  He was honest with them.  He was honest with himself.  But above all, he showed love and compassion towards them.  He offered them life and he offered them hope.  He invited them to travel with him.

Every time that we push someone away and judge without grace, we turn our backs on Christ.  Every time we perpetuate lies and encourage others to fear another human being, we turn our backs on Christ. Every time we point out the speck in our neighbors eye without first removing the log from our own, we turn our backs on Christ.  I am just as guilty of this as the next.  I have as much to confess about my fears and biases and places of intolerance as another.  But confess we must.  Be truthful we must.  We must join together with open eyes and open hearts and be willing to listen.

In a completely unrelated occurance, I stumbled across this video.

http://cnettv.cnet.com/av/video/cbsnews/atlantis2/cbsnews_player_embed.swf

If a dog and an elephant can become best friends and display that kind of trust with one another… and if an old warehouse building a few blocks away from Ground Zero can be transformed to help us do that… then why should we stop it?  I don’t know the players involved.  I don’t know their hearts, only the intentions that they have publicly stated.  But I pray that if they are allowed to go forward with their building that the center has the courage and the strength to help us transform our conversations with Islam in this country and in the world.