“CARAVAN” it is a word being used to stir up fear among the good people of the United States. You can hear it daily — the underlying message is “Be afraid. Be very afraid.” Those of us who follow Jesus need to respond. We need not accept the false dichotomy being offered.
There are humane and Christian alternatives we can choose. It is not the either/or of “barbarians at our gates” versus “wide open borders.” As a nation we can respond with safe and honest practices of processing those who seek and deserve asylum and those who don’t. There are many constructive ways to offer hospitality and security at the same time.
Those of us who claim to march with the Prince of Peace, who came to earth surrounded by the message “Fear Not,” must respond. How?
One possible response is to form our own Caravans. Let’s make them “Caravans of the Spirit,” “Caravans of Hope and Love,” “Caravans of Compassion.” Might we join together and march in another direction? All of us can actually move toward the borders of our nation or at least to the borders of our daily routines to welcome, to send a message that we stand with those who suffer from FEAR — all of them — those brothers and sisters looking for asylum from terror in their home countries, AND those in the United States who are being misled by the deceits of some who seek to divide us and leave many to dwell in a muddle of fear.
Might we substitute HOPE for the HATE that is being encouraged? Will you join in making today a day when you participate in Caravans of Hope? From Eastern and Southern Europe, across the British Commonwealth and along the borders of the United States, in our hometowns, in our shopping malls and public spaces —
real people are facing the tragic reality of being demonized by those who seem to have no ethical or Biblical moorings.
Let’s recommit to forming and joining our own caravans — ones that welcome and offer Biblical hospitality to the stranger and sojourner. The time for a new direction can begin today through simple acts of including others with a smile, a kind word, a gift to those who work with refugees and a VOTE in the coming elections. These acts indicate we are part of the LARGEST CARAVAN EVER — a Caravan of Hope.
Week by week we gather at First United Methodist Church in San Diego. I learn more about this good congregation and the ministries they provide. The photo shown here is of the church shortly after it moved to the Mission Valley area over 50 years ago. At the time it moved to a place of dairy farms and orchards.
Today, it can truly be said this is a place that reflects the old hymn “Where Cross the Crowded Ways of Life.”
This past Sunday we spoke of the importance of leaders who serve — HANDS OF THE STRONG. Little did I know when I chose this topic back in June that it would also be a week of indictments, guilty pleas, new disclosures of the abuses of Catholic clergy or the tragic misguided leadership at Willow Creek Church, the well-known and influential mega church in Illinois. Nor, did I know that this would be the weekend we would grieve the passing of Senator John McCain. In the sermon preached on 8/26 we spoke of leadership and remembered the remarkable life of integrity and humility lived by Senator McCain. It can be read here: HandsofStrong BLOG 8-26-18.
So, what of the future? The photo to the right was taken last week. It is image of the church taken from a department store parking lot across the busy I-8 freeway. Elaine, my spouse, is pictured here. As I consider our future and the leadership that will be required, my prayers go out to the people who will continue the great ministries of this congregation long into the future. As the United Methodist denomination seems to have lost its way — and is caught up internal controversy — in what Bishop Ken Carder has rightly described as “tacky” (with attribution to Will Campbell). It is places like San Diego FUMC — and hundreds of churhes across the nation — in the middle of the busyness all around that offer hope. Here the vision of a world beyond the corrupt present will endure. In such places.
Thankfully, Bishop Ken Carder continues his witness. Truth and Love cannot be separated. The church he describes is the one that nurtured me as well. For those who think a narrowing of our community will bring growth, I would simply ask them to consider, that it was the “Big Tent” Church following WWII that grew the most rapidly in recent years. Yes, we were riding a cultural wave — even as some “traditionalists” are riding theirs today. Whatever, even if severed away, split into, these who might place themselves on the other side will still be my brothers and sisters in Christ. No General Conference action can change this.
Thoughts of splitting The United Methodist Church trouble me for a host of reasons Some theological and missional.
This polarized and violent world desperately needs the witness of a community that grapples with disputes and differences with humility, mutual respect, and compassion. While divisions have been part of our heritage since the beginning, they never bode well for our commitment to oneness in Christ Jesus.
We need one another, whatever our labels. God has already reconciled us! We have been made one, whether we like it or not. So, I don’t quite understand why we can’t live the reconciliation already accomplished in Christ. If Christ has made us one, should we not live that oneness?
But I’m also troubled for personal reasons.
I’ll always remember that fateful Sunday morning almost 65 years ago when this son of Appalachian tenant farmers and textile workers walked shyly into…
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Exploring, this time, lands me in the pulpit at First United Methodist Church in San Diego as Interim Pastor. I have preached in this great church in the past; however, this time is different. This time, I will have a weekly assignment. To show up, listen, learn, study and then seek to share truths about the transforming love of God.
This is not an easy task in any season. Yet, as I face the task now, it seems more challenging than any time in my 52 years of ministry. Attached is the sermon entitled “Simply Beginning” preached on August 12, 2018.
Prayers are appreciated for this fine congregation — and for the “weak reed” who will be giving his best in the year ahead.
We are off to San Diego in August. Interim lead pastor at San Diego First United Methodist Church, I am nervous and excited. Well-meaning friends upon hearing these plans say, “Oh, lucky you, it is such a beautiful city with great weather, you are really going to enjoy it. You will probably get out there and not miss us at all. You’ll not want to return.”
Well, at this age and stage in life, I know that although my friends mean well, they are both right, AND they are wrong. Yes, we plan to enjoy San Diego to the full, make new friends, discover great culinary and cultural experiences and share ministry with the good folks. As much as we are looking forward to this odyssey, we also know that there will be things we will miss. I have made a list the top ten things I suspect I will miss:
1. Indiana grown, Non-GMO sweet corn, fresh from the field, available at our GRAND farmer’s market each week. Yes, I know they have fresh sweet corn in California. I have lived there, twice, and loved it. However, nothing brings back my childhood like field fresh corn (along with watermelon). And, for Elaine, she will miss fresh from the garden Indiana heirloom tomatoes. Each one of these is “summer candy” and a rare delicacy on hot, humid Indiana days.
2. We will miss friends made and nurtured over the decades who are a lot wacky and all the more to be loved. Do they know how to party! There are dozens of them — we have stood by them in times of joy and sorrow — and they have stood by us. It is a dangerous thing to start listing Indiana friends — so, I won’t. It is sufficient to say that Elaine and I would be lost without their laughter, wisdom, patience with my mistakes and willingness to forgive. And they know too many secrets to allow them to think we wouldn’t return!
Each year we host our annual “Trifling Picnic.” About 75 to 100 friends normally show up. Yes, we will host the picnic again this year, just before we head to California. What is a “Trifling Picnic? Well, John Wesley counseled that pastors should not be triflingly employed. We offer an opportunity for folks, clergy and lay, Methodist or not to break this rule.
3. We will miss new friends like Maria Gonzelez, Bory Colin, Joshua and Isaiah. This was the dedication of their new home on June 30th. Monroe County Habitat for Humanity will build and dedicate its 200th home later this summer. We will miss that and I will miss the wonderful friends I have on the staff and board of this affiliate!
4. I will miss colleagues in Ministry. Pictured here are Revs. Metheny, Mather, Moman and Beck. We are friends who worked together at Broadway UMC,Indianapolis in the 1980s. What a team! What memories! These colleagues inspire, challenge and allow me to grumble much about the church, particularly our denomination. They know that I refer to the Indiana Annual Conference as the “Northern Dixie Conference” (with apologies to my southern friends). Yes, I will miss grumbling about the foolishness of the latest church development techniques while our congregations are hungry for relationships and respect for the gifts they bring.
5) We will miss the GREAT MUSIC! In Bloomington, much of it free or very reasonable in cost. There are literally hundreds of concerts each year at the Jacobs School of Music at I.U. We recently heard the Student Pops Symphony Orchestra. It was FIRST RATE. Over the holiday week there will be a free concert in the park by our friend and marvelous musician Carrie Newcomer. Then, next week it is violinist Joshua Bell who is in concert on campus. This fall will be the Lotus music festival we will miss. And if you are lucky, our friend ,the incomparable, Sylvia McNair will be featured in a fundraiser for a local charity. Wow… I will miss all of this — and I haven’t mentioned the live theater or the restaurants or performances at the auditorium all in walking distance from our condo!
6) We will miss cheering for the World Champion Chicago Cubs. (Hey, I know that was back in 2016 but we waited a century for this win and should be granted a few years to claim to be champions out of respect for the suffering of Cubs fans over the years.) The Cubbies are looking good in 2018. We will miss what should be an exciting pennant race at Wrigley Field. Elaine and our daughter Lydia Murray in picture — the Cubs won that day!
7) We will miss our fine pastors, Mary Beth Morgan and Jimmy Moore at St. Marks UMC in Bloomington. We will miss all of our friends in the congregation as well. What a great congregation and place filled with fond memories.
8) I will miss GREAT HUMAN BEINGS in so many categories: carpenters, plumbers, farmers, janitors, teachers, physicians, service folks, lawyers, barkeeps, administrators, and a few rogue preachers. I will especially miss our great civic and judicial leaders. Federal Judge Sarah Evans Barker is among the BEST. We have many other such fine civic leaders — Mayor John Hamilton and his uncle, retired Congressman Lee Hamilton.
Indiana also has folks I consider to be less than worthy of admiration (no names please). However, I will miss working for the election of some good folks to replace them. We have persons running for election this fall more committed to creating the beloved community than practicing the fear laced demagoguery evident in our national body politic these days. Some of the demagogues are, sad for me to say, “fellow Hoosiers.” Hopefully we can offer them a free ticket home from Washington this fall. Yes, we are keeping our residence in Indiana as our votes are needed here.
9) I will miss places like New Harmony a wonderful retreat, place for long walks and great educational experiences. There are many such places in the state…. Indiana University in Bloomington is one I count as among the best.
AND # 10 on the list?
Okay, I confess, I am going to miss snow — not the slushy grey-February-type snow. I will miss the bright snowy days of fall and spring when our streets and fields are festooned with new garments of white. Such snow is often gone by afternoon or the next day and that is alright with me. In the meantime — I will enjoy the sunshine of San Diego!
New York Times reporter Julie Hirshfield Davis describes the detention centers for refugees in Texas border towns as being “a little like a prison and a little like a day care center.” (The Daily podcast 6/19/18). A little like a day care center? Really?
What nonsense. How can these holding tanks be benignly described as daycare facilities? Ms. Davis, however, should be cut some slack. She suffers from the same national cognitive dissonance disorder millions of us suffer. What we see, we think, can’t be real. We are facing the sinister riddle of who we have become as a society. We ponder over how it happened. Who are these people, mirrored back to us on television? Pogo was right — We have met the enemy and it is us! How did we arrive at this place? Is this me, my nation?
Let me help Ms. Davis — these are NOT daycare facilities. These are prisons — for children. Children sleep on the floor, have little choice in how to spend their days and are kept in floor-to-ceiling fenced cages. No matter the rosy stories told by the “care givers” this is a prison… this is incarceration. Families are torn apart because they feared for their lives and they sought a safe place where they might begin again and scratch out a living. Babies, toddlers, wee little children are being used as pawns. Can our cruelty deter others? Might we trade better treatment of these families for a political win — something about this likes a wall.
We didn’t arrive in this place overnight, or over an election cycle. We have come a long way from President Reagan’s first inaugural address describing the United States as a shining city on a hill. He spoke these inspiring words: “And she’s still a beacon, still a magnet for all who must have freedom, for all the pilgrims from all the lost places who are hurtling through the darkness, toward home.”
Sadly, what we have believed deep in our bones, that the United States was a place of refuge, of new opportunity, is being lost, sacrificed to political expediency. There has always been an uglier side to our identity. This broken reality of our humanity is now on full display in our treatment of the refugee.
Reagan’s soaring language was, sadly, tied to a “Southern Strategy” of thinly veiled racism and jokes about welfare queens. The uglier side of our nation’s story was also at work when George Herbert Walker Bush who understood the U.S. to be a moral leader, nevertheless was elected in part, by his appeal focus to television spots about Willie Horton, an ex-con who was said to have been released on society early and then committed fresh acts of violence. Be afraid… This became a potent symbol of racism designed to elicit fear, especially among white working class folks. But now we have fallen further — we have forgotten those fundamental values to which we aspire and now live under the sadly misguided focus on new enemies who offer us new fears. From every podium of the White House we are told, in one way are another, that we should “be afraid, be very afraid.”
How is this possible? What to do? I confess to being confused myself — almost confused enough to call a prison a daycare center — but not quite. What does it mean to be a citizen in these times? Prayers are essential, as are protests. This is not who we are as U.S. citizens. This is not who we are as people of faith. We cannot allow this to be the definitive word on how we treat “the stranger in our land.” The nation is not quietly accepting that children should be separated from mothers and fathers in a journey from terror without dissent.
There is an upside-down, inside-out quality to what is occurring. Let’s be clear — I have not been blind to the drift in our nation’s identity in recent years. People in cities, small towns and countryside across the U.S. have been struggling. Tens of thousands of manufacturing and mining operations have been closed over the past twenty years. Small farms continue to disappear. Investments in education have dwindled. Our nation has become better at hiring people to run prisons than building much-needed infrastructure. No wonder, then, that our imaginations turn to incarceration rather than welcome centers.
We have allowed false dichotomies, false economies, to be used as political theory and practice. This is a complex issue and the demagogues want us to believe that there are only two choices and one simple answer. Just a little thought about the situation on the border causes a rational person to say — how do we bring imagination to this? What other alternatives are there? What might be done in El Salvador, Guatemala and Honduras that can alleviate this? There must be dozens of ways to allow entry and do close monitoring of refugees that are less expensive than imprisoning mothers, fathers and children.
The stage was set for our foolish binary choices years ago. It did not begin in 2016. Many so-called “leaders” especially on the right, preached a narrative of “me first” and “fear the other” for years: us or them… either/or… my way or the highway. When one lives in a binary world regarding social interaction and possibilities, every choice is a false choice. Cable television and talk radio have laid out the predicate — a world was composed of distrust, soft prejudices, implicit and sometimes outright racism.
Meanwhile churches focused on entertainment and worried about numerical decline — they were too busy with this to speak on behalf of the immigrant or the poor among us. The tragic, sickening, self concern of Christian leaders, scurrying to “fix” our broken institutions, without stopping to consider the inevitable changes related to secularization and demographic shifts, meant that important voices on the behalf of the most vulnerable were silent or muted at best.
Years ago, Parker Palmer, anticipated our current state. It is almost as if he knew Attorney General Jeff Sessions was going to pull Romans 13 out of context last week and use it to justify the tragedy on our borders. Palmer wrote “traditional Christian language has been taken hostage by theological terrorists and has been tortured beyond recognition” (Parker Palmer, The Promise of Paradox, p. xxi).
A type of theological malpractice has found ascendancy in the rhetoric of our public life. When there are pictures of pastors endorsing and praying over the POTUS, who on the same day is implementing horrific policies, I want to shout out in protest: “there has been identity theft!” In this, Biblical Christianity has been traded in for a cheap imitation of the faith — something that may sell as comfort in the short-term but will bear little long-term fruit. Like the POTUS, these religious leaders are day-traders, seeking to ride the cultural swing of the moment. The life-giving, life-transforming language of restoration and reconciliation has been replaced with a distorted gospel giving license to exclusionary, selfish, violent and war-condoning ideologies.
Here is one way to recast what is occurring and offers some guidance as to how we proceed — every time some national official suggests that there are drug dealers, gang members, thieves or rapists coming across the border and this justifies the cruelty we see, we need to stop and shout “who do you think you are kidding? Where is your evidence?” Evidence is scant, almost nonexistent, you see. Good research shows that refugees contribute much more than they require of their new home. They are, like ALL PEOPLE, to be cherished more than feared. How we treat them and their children reflects how we ought to be treated… Yes, that is Biblical… and also the guidance of other faith traditions.
Is there no hope of redemption or restoration for those who might bring their own set of brokenness or troubles? We should and must screen those who would do us harm. The calculus, however, isn’t even close. There is enormously more potential for good than evil arriving at our portals. Do we have such limited imaginations that we will simply define everyone arriving, even children, as our enemy? When I see the young ones standing, crying as their mother side, as she is being taken away, I believe I see in that little one a future medical doctor, a chemist, a university president, a journalist, a teacher or a pastor — and, if we are lucky, that little one may one day be a friend to one of my grand children. That is what I see — that is what our nation must see.