War on Christmas

While they were there, the time came for Mary to have her baby. She gave birth to her firstborn child, a son, wrapped him snugly, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the guestroom. - Luke 2:6-7

I don't know if y'all feel it, but this year is just hitting hard.

What I'm really feeling right now the constant, unending, and brutal justification of violence in our country, and I have never felt further away from the Christmas story.

And then there was this:



If you didn't watch the video here's the pertinent quote:

"I just want to point out that there had been these protests in Times Square, right outside of our building here for the last week or so, since the non-indictment came down in the Ferguson situation. So, I mean, I certainly hope nothing is going to happen here in New York City today, and we've got the tree lighting ceremony."

 I hope nothing is going to happen... We've got the tree lighting ceremony

If there has ever been a war on Christmas, it has been the slow, purposeful stripping away of other's humanity.
The very reason we celebrate Christmas is because of the glory of the God-with-Us.
Emmanuel.
God made flesh.
We celebrate because in the midst of all of the chaos of the world, in the midst of our pain and suffering, God came bursting into life, crying, irritated, and in need of mother's milk.
Jesus being born into the world is about more than a birthday. It is the surest message from God that our lives matter. Our pain matters. Our flesh matters.
The central message of the Christmas story is that our humanity matters to God.

And yet, with another non-indictment in the killing of yet another black American, the response from major news sources, white Christians, and others has been the callous disregard for human life.

Remember an indictment just means that something will go to trial. So to not indict means that there is NO evidence to suggest any wrong doing whatsoever. Not even a question.

In the case of rioting, with shops being burnt, there were calls for the heads of those doing the rioting. There was condemnation of those practicing peaceful protests, but rarely was there anyone white or in the media looking to understand why. Why it is that people protest, why it is that some people riot. Because the conclusion that most white people and most people in the media came to was that

property ranks higher than black lives.

Gosh, I just hope black people don't protest the non-inictment of Eric Garner's killer in NYC. It would really be just terrible to ruin Christmas.

That mentality, the one that places things above people; the one that justifies the killing of one person because they supposedly sold individual cigarettes instead of being licensed to sell the whole pack; the one that says your pain is not worth my time. The one that says every time some one who looks like you dies, no matter if they weren't armed, no matter if they weren't actually a threat, no matter if they were in an accident and looking for help, no matter if they are an adult or a child, they deserved to die.

That is the war on Christmas.

Because it is antithetical to everything God set out to do.
And when I sit down with my family this year to celebrate the birth of Christ, I know this to be true more than ever: We need God. We need Christmas. We need a win.

Black lives matter to God. Eric Garner mattered to God. When people are upset by the lack of justice, or the lack of an admittance of wrong-doing in cases like Eric Garner, and our first response is to focus on how their pain inconveniences us. We walk away from Christ. We walk away from God. And I guarantee you, we do not get an invitation to the manger.

I am tired of the phony, pathetic excuses we make. I am tired of the mantra of the war on Christmas because I know 9 times out of 10 that war is a weak excuse to distract us from the real threats to Christmas.
I am tired of this sinfulness, and I know there are many people who have felt this for far longer than I have, who've lived it more deeply and experienced it more intimately.

This year I'm doing something about it and I hope you'll join me. I'll start with a prayer:

O Lord, anytime we make an excuse for the death of another human being, or anytime we place a pretty tree above someone else's pain, God, remind us that people like Eric Garner matter to you. Remind us that Jesus was born into this world for Eric's pain. Remind us that Jesus shares in his suffering. Remind us of what Jesus was born for, that on Christmas morning, Jesus was brought into this world to know what it is like to die Eric's death. Forgive us for our sin of hatred, apathy, and racism. And if we cannot meet you there God, remind us of how far away from that manger scene we really are. Amen.

How Long O Lord?

"Lord, how long will I call for help and you not listen? I cry out to you, 'Violence!' but you don't deliver us. Why do you show me injustice and look at anguish so that devastation and violence are before me? There is strife, and conflict abounds. The Instruction is ineffective. Justice does not endure because the wicked surround the righteous. Justice becomes warped." - Habakkuk 1:2-4

Last night the verdict was read in the case against Darren Wilson, the white Ferguson police officer who shot and killed an unarmed 18 year old black youth named Michael Brown.
That verdict was the product and the result of hundreds of years of racial oppression, subjugation and segregation that underlines, scores and marks the fabric our nation, our communities and our relationships to this day.

This day, Today.
Today is a painful reminder of just how long the moral arc of the universe really is.
Today many brothers and sisters of color have woken up from the hope of justice and returned to the bleak reality of systemic racism that puts a price on their life and a millstone around their neck.

Today many continue to remark that #blacklivesmatter. However, making the proclamation more often than not feels like shouting into the void.
Yes, #blacklivesmatter.

Yes, #blacklivesmatter. They matter to black people, they matter to me, they even matter to other white people even in the face of the overwhelming evidence to the contrary.

This is perhaps the most difficult aspect of that proclamation. That even while I proclaim #blacklivesmatter I know that the devaluation of those lives is a very real, persistent, and present threat.

As a nation we need our "come to Jesus" moment. We idle in the sin of racial injustice, too many made comfortable by its false promises. For most white folks, today we wake up and it is business as usual. No assumptions have been challenged, no hearts convicted. We continue to idle in sin while our brothers and sisters cry out, and many of us have the audacity to discount their cries, as if their pain is the true violence which shakes us.

So warped has sin made us that the reality of trials such as this one is that it is in fact the dead who are put on trial. Those who cannot respond for themselves are assessed of their innocence or guilt. Those who cannot give testimony to their version of events are expected to have their full perspective represented by the one who killed them. The result, more often than not, is that the dead are found guilty. The dead deserved to die. Michael Brown needed to die. He was dangerous, though he was unarmed, he was a threat to white lives, and he had to die. What other conclusion can be drawn from a refusal to indict?

By affirming Darren Wilson's decision to kill Michael Brown, the Grand Jury asserted two very powerful messages: Michael's death was justified; #blacklivesdon'tmatter

What other lesson is there for young people, white and black alike, looking in to discern how they should best relate to one another?

That's what hurts the most. Black lives are devalued every time this happens. Black lives are proven to be less valuable than those of their white neighbors, and thus the cycle of violence, systemic violence, marches on.

Indeed, Justice does not endure because the wicked surround the righteous. Justice becomes warped.

Today justice has been warped, delayed, subverted, denied.

Today we again wait for the moral arc of the universe to bend toward justice.

But now it's not for Michael Brown, not for Eric Garner, or Trayvon Martin, Ezell Ford, Orlando Barlow, Oscar Grant, Renisha McBride, Dante Parker, Jordan Davis, John Crawford, Alonzo Ashley, Kimani Gray, Danta Price, Steven Eugene Washington, Victor Steen, Sean Bell, Aiyana Stanley-Jones, Wendell Allen, Aaron Campbell, Kendrec McDade, Bo Morrison, Timothy Stansbury Jr., Timothy Russell, Jerean Blake, Jonathan Ferrell, Amandou Diallo, Ervin Jefferson, Angelo Clark, Steven Rodriguez, Johnnie Kamahi Warren, Nehemiah Dillard, Stephen Watts, Michael Lembhard, Tendai Nhekairo, Manuel Loggins Jr., Rekia Boyd, Melvin Lawhorn, Marquez Smart, Patrick Dorismond, James Brissette, Jersey Green, Ousmane Zongo, Duane Brown, Justin Sipp, Christopher Kissane, Raymond Allen, Travares McGill, or Sheron Jackson,

Now we wait for Tamir Rice, a twelve year old black child killed by police.

How long O Lord?

Dear Philemon

Philemon

"Therefore, though I have enough confidence in Christ to command you to do the right thing, I would rather appeal to you through love. I, Paul—an old man, and now also a prisoner for Christ Jesus— appeal to you for my child Onesimus. I became his father in the faith during my time in prison. He was useless to you before, but now he is useful to both of us. I’m sending him back to you, which is like sending you my own heart."

I've long struggled with Philemon, the shortest "book" in the bible, a personal letter between Paul and Philemon. It's a letter that is difficult to make sense of, mostly due to the nature of its writing. Paul is writing to Philemon on behalf of Philemon's slave, Onesimus. Paul appeals to Philemon's status as a Christian, as someone who has demonstrated their ability to "refresh the hearts of the saints," to give care to fellow Christians. Paul encourages Philemon, reminding him of what a great guy he is and what great authority Paul has but chooses not to use.

There is so much that I want Paul to say to Philemon, but he doesn't. I want Paul to tell Philemon that his treatment of Onesimus determines the very outcome of his relationship with God. I want Paul to tell Philemon that his salvation relies on how far he lets the love of Christ transform his life. I want Paul to tell Philemon that slavery, the system that has supported the growth of nearly every empire in history, is antithetical to the Gospel. However, I find Paul's exhortation silent, sheepish, appealing when I so want Paul to be loud, bold, and sharp.

I struggle with this passage because I think of how many people have laid down their lives to make the world a more just place. In particular I think of those who have laid down their lives for others out of their faithfulness to the kingdom of God. I think of people in the past 100 years like Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Dorothy Day, Oscar Romero, Mother Theresa, Desmond Tutu, and Nelson Mandela. None who have laid down their lives for the sake of justice have been apologetic in their approach (this is primarily why some of them literally lost their lives). I think of people like Martin Luther King Jr. in his letter from a Birmingham jail. In this letter, like Paul, he too writes to fellow Christians, fellow preachers, those who have a pulpit and are responsible for the refreshing of the saints. Some of the most memorable quotes of Dr. King come from this letter: "Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere," "We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny." At times Dr. King's letter is cordial but there is a tone in his letter that speaks to the harmful choices and beliefs of the clergy he writes.

My favorite quote from this letter is not one of the more famous ones, but consists of two paragraphs toward the end that addresses the tone Dr. King truly has taken with his fellow clergy:

"Never before have I written so long a letter. I'm afraid it is much too long to take your precious time. I can assure you that it would have been much shorter if I had been writing from a comfortable desk, but what else can one do when he is alone in a narrow jail cell, other than write long letters, think long thoughts and pray long prayers?
If I have said anything in this letter that overstates the truth and indicates an unreasonable impatience, I beg you to forgive me. If I have said anything that understates the truth and indicates my having a patience that allows me to settle for anything less than brotherhood, I beg God to forgive me."

It is that last paragraph that elevates Dr. King's position from one of morality to salvation. It is this last paragraph wherein Dr. King makes clear that the intent of this letter is not cordiality, or gentleness. This is a matter of the soul, where lives are at stake. To ask for anything less than absolute equality, as brothers and sisters, equality as children of God, would be to sin against God, would be antithetical to the saving grace of Jesus Christ. 

I'm so frustrated with Paul in his letter to Philemon because I want him to be clear that Onesimus' value is inherently derived from the will of God, that in Christ all are equal, all are of sacred worth. Paul spends so much time easing Philemon into the notion that this is the correct way of thinking that he leaves too much room for ambiguity. Perhaps I am more frustrated with never knowing Philemon's response. Does Philemon do the right thing? I would like to believe that Onesimus arrives at Philemon's home and Philemon drops to his knees, asks forgiveness and embraces Onesimus as a brother, as a fellow child of God. But I know the radical nature of this request. This one lesson that Paul attempts to gently teach would break down the very foundations of the Roman empire, would subvert every teaching from Roman philosophical thinking and would entirely reverse the social norms of his culture.

We find evidence of this subversion when we look at what Romans thought of the early church. The early church was derided by Roman authorities and thinkers because it was primarily made up of the poor, women, and slaves. The message of grace, equality and salvation spoke to the hearts of those who were "divinely" ordered at the bottom. 

Perhaps I'm being too harsh. After all, Paul gave his own life for the kingdom and this message, though gentle, is quite radical. I suspect that Paul gave no thought to the long reaching consequences of his words, that they would be considered scripture, or that they would be read in instruction across thousands of years.

Paul concludes his letter saying, "Confident of your obedience, I am writing to you, knowing that you will do even more than I say."

I hope that Paul is right. I hope that we, as the church, would seek greater justice and reconciliation beyond what Paul has said. I hope that we will continue to recognize and uplift the brokenness of our world, those who bare crosses among us, whose lives are denied their inherent sacred worth. I pray that in our pursuit of a more just world, a world that more closely resembles the kingdom of God, that we never understate the truth, or indicate that we have patience that allows us to settle for anything less than all as beloved children of God. For if we do, I beg God to forgive us.

Uncommon Prayer

A few years ago a friend of mine handed me a mix-tape (more like a mix-CD), with the intention of it being used in worship. Scrawled on the front of the disc were the words "Uncommon Prayer." On the back of the sleeve that held the disc were names like Louis Armstrong, The Mountain Goats, Mason Jennings, The Flaming Lips, and Iron & Wine. As I held the disc in my hand I remember thinking, "but these aren't Christian groups." 

As I listened to the music, I began to see where my friend was coming from.

These were songs that conveyed beauty of God's creation, the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, the challenge and experience of God's love.
They just didn't use the words I was familiar with and I realized that

God doesn't just use the words that carry an "official" Christian seal to convey truth or love. 

But then again, the words I was used to hearing don't guarantee some great ideal either. I was brought up in a Christian worship scene that was wrapped up in Veggie Tales and bands like Audio Adrenaline or Newsboys. I remember one song by the Newsboys that was quite popular at the concerts, lock-ins and youth gatherings I attended. It's called The Breakfast Song and it's a catchy little tune that I thought was about cereal, Jesus and faith. As I got older, I would think back to the lyrics with horror. It's a song clearly marketed toward children, where the primary message is a warning about Hell. The song describes a group of young cereal lovers (presumably children, due to the references to gym class) that are mourning the death of one of their friends. But their friend left them a reminder from his short lived life that "when the big one finds you/ may this song remind you/ they don't serve breakfast in hell."

I'm of the opinion that if you have to start off a conversation about the need for God in someone's life with warning on Hell, you've missed the point.

I also think that if you have to sell heaven (or hell) to children through sugary cereals, then you've missed every point along the way.

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This is why I think that there's something captivating about authenticity, living the authentic life, that is just missed in the larger American Christian consumer culture. We sing songs about the lack of breakfast cereal in hell, when Jesus has provided a wonderful meal for us now, a simple meal of bread and wine. Furthermore the language of table in the Gospel feast is not one of warning, but of invitation. There's a reason why we all shake our heads at the folks standing on the street corner holding signs and shouting scripture warning of sin/death/the end. It feels cheap and unwelcome because we get that same message over and over but all it comes off as is a scare tactic. And a scare tactic is a terrible way to start a relationship founded on love. On the other side, there is an invitation to join in.

Read the words of Jesus that Luke provides:

Luke 22:15-20

"I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer; for I tell you, I will not eat it until it is fulfilled in the kingdom of God." Then he took a cup, and after giving thanks he said, "Take this and divide it among yourselves; for I tell you that from now on I will not drink of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes." Then he took a loaf of bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and give it to them, saying, "This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me." And he did the same with the cup after supper, saying "This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood."

There is an earnest desire from Jesus to share in this meal with the disciples. 

When Jesus sits down with the disciples for the Passover meal, he does it with intention, because this may be the last meal he shares with them. What I love so much about this meal is that the people that Jesus so eagerly desires to share it with are broken, hopeless, poor, wandering, untrustworthy, fearful, unworthy.
In other words,

they look a lot like the people both inside and outside the church. 

They are the kind of folks that God desperately wants to be in a relationship with, and their brokenness, their failures, their anger, their mistrust, are all welcome to the table. Remember, at this point in the story these people that Jesus is so eager to love and eat with are about to betray him, run from him, pretend like they have no clue who he is. And still, he wants to be with them. They don't have to be perfect, polished, deserving. They don't have to fit the form. They don't have to look anything like what we might associate with "holy" or "good" because God has already said that they are.
What Jesus tells the disciples in this meal is not that they are damned if they don't shape up, Jesus doesn't warn them about the lack of Capt'n Crunch in hell, but demonstrates that God's love is so relentless that even after all they've done and all they're about to do, God will continue to pursue them. God actually likes these people.
I imagine that the disciples probably had some less than perfect thoughts and prayers after Jesus was killed. What would it look like for us to be honest about our prayer? What would we say to God if we were authentic about who we are and where we're at? What would people say about us if we let our guard down and showed off our less polished self to the world? (They probably wouldn't say much that was good) but what would they say about God? (Probably a lot of truth)

What would the world be like if Christians were common people who relate to God with "Uncommon" prayer.

1. Sugary Cereal photo from TheAtlantic.com