It's been so crazy to watch the news lately coming out of Illinois and New York. Unfortunately, stories of corrupt politicians, scheming businessmen and greedy lawyers may not sound all that new. But between the likes of Blagoyavich, Madoff and Dreier, it sure does seem a bit like the rule of three has been borne forth (let's hope so, that this is the extent of the craziness for now).
I spoke about these stories in my sermon on Sunday, since they seemed in such marked contrast to the story of John the Baptist that was the morning's Gospel reading. When asked if he was a whole range of important figures, he said "No," and that he was only there to point to someone else...the coming Messiah, whose coat (as Peterson puts it in his translation The Message) he is not worthy to hold.
The sad thing is, we are not, most of us, all that different from these three men. All too often, we are more likely to take credit that is not ours than to really understand not only who are ARE, but who we AREN'T. It feels nice when people think we can fix things, make things right. Until we can't.
And at the same time, we're also guilty of handing over too much power and accilade to others in our own desire to find quick and easy solutions to challenges and problems that we know are very complicated.
An example of this is Madoff. Now many people on Wall Street apparently saw his fund as a high-risk one. They didn't trust his policies. Some so much that they refused even to meet with him, let alone invest with him. Now, sometimes people can bear a high risk investment. In fact, experts encourage younger workers to be willing to take a bit of risk with their retirement (if they have the stomach for it) because they have the time to recoup losses on risks if that happens. BUT...what I find most troubling about those who invested with Madoff is not the risk itself (though I'd be concerned about investing with him if major companies wouldn't even meet with him)...but rather that so many people invested EVERYTHING with him. Now, it's much more complicated than that, I know. But I think it's just one more sign of what we've always known about ourselves...we want to be WINNERS and we're prone to run full steam towards the winning team, sometimes without thinking clearly.
During this Advent season, it is a time to be reminded of the importance of waiting. Thinking. Praying. Discerning. Seems as though some people were quite anxious in John's day for the coming of the Messiah. They were looking. Waiting. Even impatient. I wonder how it would have been different if John hadn't had a firm grasp on his role---what he WAS and WASN'T supposed to be and be doing.
And I wonder how our world would be different if we all took a moment to make the same assessment of ourselves, those around us, and our leaders. What have you claimed the power or authority to do or be that you really aren't (fix someone's life, be the calm in someone's storm), or what have you given over to someone that really isn't theirs (being your life, the balance in yours, fixing your problems, etc.).
Edwin Friedman wrote about familiy systems theory before his untimely death. And one of his major points was how the very worst thing we can often do is try to get involved in someone else's issues when they need to be the one dealing with it, or when we try to make someone else responsbile for that which is properly ours.
In a season where families, relationships and communities are strained (and all the more so in our nation in its current financial crisis) perhaps a good dose of some honest self-reflection, humility, and pointing to the only One who is able to be our calm and center isn't a bad idea.
In Greek, the divine passive occurs when an action is done by an unmentioned force, and when this is thus assumed to be God. It always reminds me of how God is at work in our lives at all times, even when we may not realize at first.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Being Conflicted
This is the time of year when pastors gear up for the marathon that is the Christmas season (last year it was even long since Christmas ran right into Lent and Easter with almost no break) and also have to evaluate themselves and think about what they will be doing in the future--well, United Methodist pastors at least.
It's pretty standard for people to get evaluated in their jobs, and even to do self-evals. It's still kind of new here, and everyone does these differently. The thing is, the evaluation is always dependent upon a person or church's ability to be self-reflective, and also how high their goals are. So while it's a time to look at how you're doing, it's also a time to look at how well you think you can do. Evaluations are as much a reflection, I think, of reality as they are of possibility.
For the past few years, the first ones we had evals, our conference's forms have had numbers attached...like 5 we you're exceeding expectations or something. This year the numbers are off. That's a good thing. It feels a bit better to check that you "Need Improvement" than that you're a 1. It's a mental thing I know, but it matters. And hopefully that little change will allow us all to be a bit more self-critical.
In the United Methodist system, we have this fundamental assumption, it seems to me, that all pastors and congregations are more or less interchangeable. I think that's changing, but it's still there. Any pastor should be able to serve and be successful at any church. Not allowing for the fact that there are just some patently unhealthy churches and pastors out there, I think a lot of time we really struggle to appreciate that many times, matches aren't all that good. Often that's not clear right at first. Other times, as pastors and congregations change, they can, in the words use for marriages, "grow apart." Often what are called "irreconcilable differences" in marriages are simply stories of "it seemed like a good idea at the time," and two people not really knowing each other all that well. And perhaps one or both of the persons not knowing themselves all that well at first.
It was a pretty incredible idea for me to hear at the new church start conference about "Affinities". Basically the idea is maximine the effectiveness of new church starts by planting pastors amongst people they are similar to. Getting over the idea that it's easy enough to take a passionate person and see them succeed in any soil, and plant them in the right soil.
I cannot imagine the frustration of cabinets trying to play this difficult, and I imagine, heart-rending match game. And I am sure that for all the good matches, there are just pastors and appointments that are paired as best as they can with what's out there. And things change. But I wonder what it would look like if we were all just really upfront about who we are, and thus who we connect best with. What if, when what seems like an ideal match isn't possible, that's acknowledged from the start and it's clear to everyone where the differences are?
I haven't had a chance to talk with many of my colleagues about their experiences with the evaluation and advisory forms this year...or even with experienced pastors about how they approach these. But I am interested to do that. To hear how these forms have been shaping on their ministries, and what if any effect this opportunity to pause and reflect has had in their lives and ministry.
It's pretty standard for people to get evaluated in their jobs, and even to do self-evals. It's still kind of new here, and everyone does these differently. The thing is, the evaluation is always dependent upon a person or church's ability to be self-reflective, and also how high their goals are. So while it's a time to look at how you're doing, it's also a time to look at how well you think you can do. Evaluations are as much a reflection, I think, of reality as they are of possibility.
For the past few years, the first ones we had evals, our conference's forms have had numbers attached...like 5 we you're exceeding expectations or something. This year the numbers are off. That's a good thing. It feels a bit better to check that you "Need Improvement" than that you're a 1. It's a mental thing I know, but it matters. And hopefully that little change will allow us all to be a bit more self-critical.
In the United Methodist system, we have this fundamental assumption, it seems to me, that all pastors and congregations are more or less interchangeable. I think that's changing, but it's still there. Any pastor should be able to serve and be successful at any church. Not allowing for the fact that there are just some patently unhealthy churches and pastors out there, I think a lot of time we really struggle to appreciate that many times, matches aren't all that good. Often that's not clear right at first. Other times, as pastors and congregations change, they can, in the words use for marriages, "grow apart." Often what are called "irreconcilable differences" in marriages are simply stories of "it seemed like a good idea at the time," and two people not really knowing each other all that well. And perhaps one or both of the persons not knowing themselves all that well at first.
It was a pretty incredible idea for me to hear at the new church start conference about "Affinities". Basically the idea is maximine the effectiveness of new church starts by planting pastors amongst people they are similar to. Getting over the idea that it's easy enough to take a passionate person and see them succeed in any soil, and plant them in the right soil.
I cannot imagine the frustration of cabinets trying to play this difficult, and I imagine, heart-rending match game. And I am sure that for all the good matches, there are just pastors and appointments that are paired as best as they can with what's out there. And things change. But I wonder what it would look like if we were all just really upfront about who we are, and thus who we connect best with. What if, when what seems like an ideal match isn't possible, that's acknowledged from the start and it's clear to everyone where the differences are?
I haven't had a chance to talk with many of my colleagues about their experiences with the evaluation and advisory forms this year...or even with experienced pastors about how they approach these. But I am interested to do that. To hear how these forms have been shaping on their ministries, and what if any effect this opportunity to pause and reflect has had in their lives and ministry.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Jonestown
This past week, my husband Chris and I sat down to watch the CNN special on Jonestown that we'd recorded on DVR. I thought I knew a good amount, of course I have heard the "drinking the koolaid" saying. I even, knowing I'd be watching it and not being a patient person...at all...Googled the story to learn a bit more.
If you don't know much about Jonestown, you should learn about it. One of the ironies that they closed the CNN special was a sign at the site of the mass gathering where all of those 900+ people committed sucide or were killed, that said basically, "Those who don't know the past are doomed to repeat it."
The rise of cults is increasingly understood by experts in the light of the social and pyschological elements they touch upon. And we are increasingly learning about how a person's religious journey then ties into it all. So now that we know so much, you'd think we'd know enough to stop it from happening. The challenge is, so often these things begin "innocently enough." I mean, Jim Jones (who from many angles now looks like a crazy guy) started off as a local preacher in the Methodist Church who got kicked out of his little church in Indiana for trying to integrate it. I mean, just on that level, sounds like he could have gone on to great things, right?
As I prepared to send a list of resources out to my congregation for a Sunday discussion this week on Jonestown, I came across an article from the American Psychological Association that describes how it seems like Jones used George Orwell's 1984 as a guidebook to mind-control! The book was saying that experts should be careful how they research and share findings, because people can take them and use them for harm. I.e. if a social pyschologists discovers a great way to control a group, what a helpful insight for a cult leader!
The truth is we have always struggled with the dangers when well-intentioned discoveries are used for other purposes. I've heard that many researchers who worked on atomic physics were devestated by the use of their research for creating weapons.
I wonder though, as we learn more about incidents like Jonestown...and as we try to remember them as cautionary tales, if we can do so while not distancing ourselves from the always present possibility that someone, somewhere, is still finding ways to draw people into communities that will destroy them later. And I wonder what all of this has to say to us in the church...both as we seek to keep our communities of faith healthy, and also as we seek to invite others into community who perhaps rightfully so, given the example of history, wonder about our motives. It's a call both to forming authentic communities and also, I think, a reminder that we all need to hold each other accountable as we lead. Because even when the body count isn't there, I suspect there are more than a few "charismatic leaders" in a variety of settings who have nonetheless been able to lead people from good intentions into a place that endangers them.
What do you think that might look like today?
If you don't know much about Jonestown, you should learn about it. One of the ironies that they closed the CNN special was a sign at the site of the mass gathering where all of those 900+ people committed sucide or were killed, that said basically, "Those who don't know the past are doomed to repeat it."
The rise of cults is increasingly understood by experts in the light of the social and pyschological elements they touch upon. And we are increasingly learning about how a person's religious journey then ties into it all. So now that we know so much, you'd think we'd know enough to stop it from happening. The challenge is, so often these things begin "innocently enough." I mean, Jim Jones (who from many angles now looks like a crazy guy) started off as a local preacher in the Methodist Church who got kicked out of his little church in Indiana for trying to integrate it. I mean, just on that level, sounds like he could have gone on to great things, right?
As I prepared to send a list of resources out to my congregation for a Sunday discussion this week on Jonestown, I came across an article from the American Psychological Association that describes how it seems like Jones used George Orwell's 1984 as a guidebook to mind-control! The book was saying that experts should be careful how they research and share findings, because people can take them and use them for harm. I.e. if a social pyschologists discovers a great way to control a group, what a helpful insight for a cult leader!
The truth is we have always struggled with the dangers when well-intentioned discoveries are used for other purposes. I've heard that many researchers who worked on atomic physics were devestated by the use of their research for creating weapons.
I wonder though, as we learn more about incidents like Jonestown...and as we try to remember them as cautionary tales, if we can do so while not distancing ourselves from the always present possibility that someone, somewhere, is still finding ways to draw people into communities that will destroy them later. And I wonder what all of this has to say to us in the church...both as we seek to keep our communities of faith healthy, and also as we seek to invite others into community who perhaps rightfully so, given the example of history, wonder about our motives. It's a call both to forming authentic communities and also, I think, a reminder that we all need to hold each other accountable as we lead. Because even when the body count isn't there, I suspect there are more than a few "charismatic leaders" in a variety of settings who have nonetheless been able to lead people from good intentions into a place that endangers them.
What do you think that might look like today?
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Warmth
It is a wet, cold day outside. This fact in itself has helped me focus to get done some e-mails, computer work and reading I needed to tackle. Though really beyond that, today is the sort of day we all just want to curl up under a blanket!
I decided though, after being pent-up this morning and with nothing falling from the sky for the moment, to take a walk. It was chilly, and if I'd have stopped, it would have been uncomfortable. But as anyone knows, a walk on a cold day can be a nice, refreshing thing as long as you keep moving. And of course, it was a blessing (that not everyone has) to be able to end the walk by coming through the door to my house and entering warmth.
Lately, I've been struggling to figure out and hear God's call in my life now. That's the thing they don't always tell you in seminary...sure, God calls you to ministry, but it's not like God's done. God is constantly reshaping and refining that call. After 3 1/2 years in ministry, I have been trying to listen for what's next.
Chris and I were blessed to be able to attend a New Church Start conference last week. And it blew my mind. It was a good opportunity to reflect upon who I am, and what really excites me about ministry. It was also a chance to reflect on what I'm not good at. And what drains me in ministry. I came out of it energized to find new ways to open the community of Christ to people. But I have struggled to know how that pairs with an existing congregation.
The best thing I've done since then has been to not keep this tension to myself. I've talked with colleagues, family, and I've even begin talking with some people at my church. We've underscored the challenge of expecting a pastor (well, maybe it's just me, but I'm not superwoman) to both maintain close relationships within an existing congregation and also develop new ministries for people who might not really connect with that same group. There is still a lot to work out. But as I have shared my struggle and heard the excitement of others for new opportunities in ministry, it is as if this too is a walk through a chilly place. And if we can keep walking, keep trying along the way to stay faithful on the journey, then maybe, by the grace of God, we'll find some warmth.
That's just a bit of what's rolling around in my head...most of it is still really jumbled. But it's basically this...what sort of community---religious and otherwise---would I and others really be excited to be part of? How could we truly use our gifts to help others, to GO OUT, and not just hang out within the walls of the church (literally and figuratively). And I'm not just talking one thing here, one thing there. I'm talking about a very different approach...a re-orientation of everything.
What do you think that would look like?
Now off to try to make more sense of this, to figure out even what questions there are, let alone answers...and maybe enjoy a bit more warmth. It is, after all the season of fireplaces---and I finally have one that works!
I decided though, after being pent-up this morning and with nothing falling from the sky for the moment, to take a walk. It was chilly, and if I'd have stopped, it would have been uncomfortable. But as anyone knows, a walk on a cold day can be a nice, refreshing thing as long as you keep moving. And of course, it was a blessing (that not everyone has) to be able to end the walk by coming through the door to my house and entering warmth.
Lately, I've been struggling to figure out and hear God's call in my life now. That's the thing they don't always tell you in seminary...sure, God calls you to ministry, but it's not like God's done. God is constantly reshaping and refining that call. After 3 1/2 years in ministry, I have been trying to listen for what's next.
Chris and I were blessed to be able to attend a New Church Start conference last week. And it blew my mind. It was a good opportunity to reflect upon who I am, and what really excites me about ministry. It was also a chance to reflect on what I'm not good at. And what drains me in ministry. I came out of it energized to find new ways to open the community of Christ to people. But I have struggled to know how that pairs with an existing congregation.
The best thing I've done since then has been to not keep this tension to myself. I've talked with colleagues, family, and I've even begin talking with some people at my church. We've underscored the challenge of expecting a pastor (well, maybe it's just me, but I'm not superwoman) to both maintain close relationships within an existing congregation and also develop new ministries for people who might not really connect with that same group. There is still a lot to work out. But as I have shared my struggle and heard the excitement of others for new opportunities in ministry, it is as if this too is a walk through a chilly place. And if we can keep walking, keep trying along the way to stay faithful on the journey, then maybe, by the grace of God, we'll find some warmth.
That's just a bit of what's rolling around in my head...most of it is still really jumbled. But it's basically this...what sort of community---religious and otherwise---would I and others really be excited to be part of? How could we truly use our gifts to help others, to GO OUT, and not just hang out within the walls of the church (literally and figuratively). And I'm not just talking one thing here, one thing there. I'm talking about a very different approach...a re-orientation of everything.
What do you think that would look like?
Now off to try to make more sense of this, to figure out even what questions there are, let alone answers...and maybe enjoy a bit more warmth. It is, after all the season of fireplaces---and I finally have one that works!
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
Transitions
As I write, the window is blowing outside my window, and the autumn leaves that were already just on the point of falling, are being blown off trees at an alarming rate! The good news is the weather front that has brought this wind has also brought rain--much needed after a very dry season.
All of this has made me think about how any time of transition is a similar experience--the coming of needed things tied up with the harshness of transitions. Rain, for example, only happens when two fronts (and very different ones at that) slam into each other. The occurrance of rain, as renewing and refreshing as it is, is a pretty violent thing weather-wise.
We still need a lot more rain. And I know that as fall continues and winter comes, the wind will keep up, and rain will turn to snow. And ice even (let's hope not too much). Chris and I are already preparing for the chances of being stranded, or without electricity. We're getting our wood stove and chimney checked out, stocking up on gallons of water (the fun of being on a well!) and keeping dry goods on hand. There's a good chance we won't need much if any of it, but if we do, we'll hopefully be relatively prepared.
Times of transition almost always necessitate preparation of some form. I think we've forgetten that though. I mean, we live lives with so many conveniences that we are used to being able to get anything any time. Many people have no idea what fruits or veggies are "in season" and stocking up for anything seems foreign to us. After all, if we need more, we can just run to the store, right?
I think about early settlers living on "the western frontier"--yes, Missouri was once such an exciting, far-flung place--and all the ways they would be doing things differently right now. For them, preparing for the winter would have been a matter of life or death. The beautiful colors of autumn leaves and the crisp fall temperatures would serve as a warning and an encouragement to get serious about stock piling food, preparing the homestead, and preparing for a long cold winter. The transition would have been very distinct.
So I wonder whether we've lost the sense of the importance--and challenge--of transitions. Transitions are rough and scary things, and are the times we have to be working the hardest. This is as true of preparing for seasons of weather as it is preparing for the different seasons of our lives.
All of this has made me think about how any time of transition is a similar experience--the coming of needed things tied up with the harshness of transitions. Rain, for example, only happens when two fronts (and very different ones at that) slam into each other. The occurrance of rain, as renewing and refreshing as it is, is a pretty violent thing weather-wise.
We still need a lot more rain. And I know that as fall continues and winter comes, the wind will keep up, and rain will turn to snow. And ice even (let's hope not too much). Chris and I are already preparing for the chances of being stranded, or without electricity. We're getting our wood stove and chimney checked out, stocking up on gallons of water (the fun of being on a well!) and keeping dry goods on hand. There's a good chance we won't need much if any of it, but if we do, we'll hopefully be relatively prepared.
Times of transition almost always necessitate preparation of some form. I think we've forgetten that though. I mean, we live lives with so many conveniences that we are used to being able to get anything any time. Many people have no idea what fruits or veggies are "in season" and stocking up for anything seems foreign to us. After all, if we need more, we can just run to the store, right?
I think about early settlers living on "the western frontier"--yes, Missouri was once such an exciting, far-flung place--and all the ways they would be doing things differently right now. For them, preparing for the winter would have been a matter of life or death. The beautiful colors of autumn leaves and the crisp fall temperatures would serve as a warning and an encouragement to get serious about stock piling food, preparing the homestead, and preparing for a long cold winter. The transition would have been very distinct.
So I wonder whether we've lost the sense of the importance--and challenge--of transitions. Transitions are rough and scary things, and are the times we have to be working the hardest. This is as true of preparing for seasons of weather as it is preparing for the different seasons of our lives.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Sunday's Faith Topic
In case you stopped by this blog to find out what Sunday's Faith Topic is, for the Sunday School class, please stop by later today. My husband Chris will be leading the discussion since I'll have to head to the Doubs/Epworth UMC Homecoming right after worship, and he's still thinking about topic ideas. Any suggestions?
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Immigration
I am sitting here reading this morning's paper and didn't make it through page one before I got upset! As a member of our conference's Hispanic/Latino Advisory Board in this area, I was glad to see Millie Rivera made the paper. But I was angered to hear about proposal to count illegal immigrants in schools.
Now I understand we all have a different view of this issue, and there are a lot of reasons for that. I know that since illegal immigrants don't pay taxes (they can't, they're "off the books") it means local school systems have an added expense. I hear that the language thing upsets some people. I know there are many other reasons why good, smart people are very concerned about what they would describe as an illegal immigration problem.
But here is what I just don't get. We are all of us (except Native Americans, and we have still found ways to persecute them over the years) immigrants. And you know what, many of our ancestors were unwelcome, and were mocked and hated by others. My own family is nearly entirely German on one side. I know that Germans were vastly criticized for continuing to speak German instead of English when they came here. And the language thing was pretty major--as it is now.
There is a (probably apocryphal) story out of the Methodist tradition that goes something like this: Early in our nation's history, as Methodist blossomed and Otterbein's United Brethren did as well, it was pretty apparent to leaders of both churches the close connections between them. Otterbein had helped ordain Asbury, and Otterbein had adopted the Methodist Book of Disciple by merely translating it into German. As the story goes, two leaders, one from each of these churches, were talking one day. The Methodist asked why the United Brethren wouldn't just join them. The UB said, "Will you let us have German-speaking churches and conferences?" The Methodist replied no, saying the English was the language of the land and they could never allow that. Now look, over a hundred years later those two churches did join, and though there were other reasons for the separation before, it really is pretty much language that was the major difference. The irony is, within a generation or two, without making it an issue, the Germans adopted English. It was just easier for them.
Others in this area, if not of German descent (and really, those of us of German descent ought be be better students of our own history as regards to the divisions that have plagued our own people for hundreds and hundreds of years and how ridiculous it all looks now), there are also those of Irish, Scottish, even those of poor English descent.
What angers me most is the general lack of hospitality that has begun to characterize us. What I find unbearable is when I sit in Advisory Board meetings and I hear about people scared to leave their homes for fear of getting arrested. And what I think we should all find a bit unsettling is the way that our concern about illegal immigrants has turned us and our local government into people it's hard to be proud of---people who see the skin color of a person and ask ourselves first the question of whether they ought to be here or not. This is a prime example of racial profiling. I am told that people of hispanic-looking descent are routinely pulled over or questioned for minor offenses (offenses that I suspect many of us of European descent would rarely if ever be pulled over for, and I really doubt they'd ask us for our status, especially if we aren't the driver of the car).
There is nothing about this racial profiling that feels very Christian to me. That old, "What Would Jesus Do?" cliche ought to give us some pause here.
Now I am not a policy maker, and I know there are many issues tied into this that I am not expert on. But the general tone of it all is troubling to me.
I saw a video of Brian McLauren recently--he's a major church leader of the Emergent Church movement. Brian was talking about how we often like to think that God has blessed this nation, especially those who are reasonably comfortable, etc. But he points out that if you read the Gospels (I mean, you don't even have to read all that closely, it's pretty blatant), it becomes apparent that God doesn't have favorites, but if God did, it would be those who are persecuted, without, hunted, hiding, in prison, hungry, and suffering. I'm pretty sure that puts a lot of us on the wrong side. That doesn't mean God doesn't love us...but I think it calls us to be part of the ministry to those for whom God sorrows and those who are in such need of God's love and hope.
Now I understand we all have a different view of this issue, and there are a lot of reasons for that. I know that since illegal immigrants don't pay taxes (they can't, they're "off the books") it means local school systems have an added expense. I hear that the language thing upsets some people. I know there are many other reasons why good, smart people are very concerned about what they would describe as an illegal immigration problem.
But here is what I just don't get. We are all of us (except Native Americans, and we have still found ways to persecute them over the years) immigrants. And you know what, many of our ancestors were unwelcome, and were mocked and hated by others. My own family is nearly entirely German on one side. I know that Germans were vastly criticized for continuing to speak German instead of English when they came here. And the language thing was pretty major--as it is now.
There is a (probably apocryphal) story out of the Methodist tradition that goes something like this: Early in our nation's history, as Methodist blossomed and Otterbein's United Brethren did as well, it was pretty apparent to leaders of both churches the close connections between them. Otterbein had helped ordain Asbury, and Otterbein had adopted the Methodist Book of Disciple by merely translating it into German. As the story goes, two leaders, one from each of these churches, were talking one day. The Methodist asked why the United Brethren wouldn't just join them. The UB said, "Will you let us have German-speaking churches and conferences?" The Methodist replied no, saying the English was the language of the land and they could never allow that. Now look, over a hundred years later those two churches did join, and though there were other reasons for the separation before, it really is pretty much language that was the major difference. The irony is, within a generation or two, without making it an issue, the Germans adopted English. It was just easier for them.
Others in this area, if not of German descent (and really, those of us of German descent ought be be better students of our own history as regards to the divisions that have plagued our own people for hundreds and hundreds of years and how ridiculous it all looks now), there are also those of Irish, Scottish, even those of poor English descent.
What angers me most is the general lack of hospitality that has begun to characterize us. What I find unbearable is when I sit in Advisory Board meetings and I hear about people scared to leave their homes for fear of getting arrested. And what I think we should all find a bit unsettling is the way that our concern about illegal immigrants has turned us and our local government into people it's hard to be proud of---people who see the skin color of a person and ask ourselves first the question of whether they ought to be here or not. This is a prime example of racial profiling. I am told that people of hispanic-looking descent are routinely pulled over or questioned for minor offenses (offenses that I suspect many of us of European descent would rarely if ever be pulled over for, and I really doubt they'd ask us for our status, especially if we aren't the driver of the car).
There is nothing about this racial profiling that feels very Christian to me. That old, "What Would Jesus Do?" cliche ought to give us some pause here.
Now I am not a policy maker, and I know there are many issues tied into this that I am not expert on. But the general tone of it all is troubling to me.
I saw a video of Brian McLauren recently--he's a major church leader of the Emergent Church movement. Brian was talking about how we often like to think that God has blessed this nation, especially those who are reasonably comfortable, etc. But he points out that if you read the Gospels (I mean, you don't even have to read all that closely, it's pretty blatant), it becomes apparent that God doesn't have favorites, but if God did, it would be those who are persecuted, without, hunted, hiding, in prison, hungry, and suffering. I'm pretty sure that puts a lot of us on the wrong side. That doesn't mean God doesn't love us...but I think it calls us to be part of the ministry to those for whom God sorrows and those who are in such need of God's love and hope.
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