Christianity

Shoveling Alone

~ philipamerson

Shoveling Alone

Shoveling alone. It is the story in almost all our communities in the United States. The poorest of the poor are shuffled to the edges of our economy and end up living on the streets — or in jail!

As I turned the shovel in Bloomington on a recent Wednesday, at the groundbreaking for our new Beacon center, I realized I was alone in that moment… no one on either side… but so many had gone ahead, and others would follow. Is it true in your community as well?

Not just on a given afternoon but across the years, I knew others in the faith community and beyond, who didn’t attend this groundbreaking… but who had ‘turned the soil’ of change in many places. They have been at this turning the soil, and turning our souls, in the past and will be in the future. In the process our souls are returned to an original place of hope and sharing among all.

I believe our local faith community, and others whereever you live, will do more in the months ahead, not just for places like Beacon. We must do this because our challenges cannot be fully handled by any one social service agency. Beacon, and similar agencies are a good, but insufficient response.

Bloomington Mayor Thomson is right, a comprehensive response to the challenge of persons without shelter is needed. Rise up now, faith communities and others, show more muscle, join in to assist the Emergency Winter Shelters, programs like Heading Home, the Recovery Alliance, New Leaf/New Life. Offer more mutual respect and support for all! The massive cuts to Medicaid will touch us all and especially the poor. Emergency rooms will be more crowded, retirement homes and clinics will close, healthcare will be rationed and delayed. Time for more to pick up the shovel and turn the soil toward the planting of new seeds of hope.

“When did we see you…?” the scriptures ask. “When you did it to the least among you” comes the answer. I live with the firm knowledge this shelter, even with a “better” setting where healthcare, employment assistance, public safety, addiction recovery and other resources, are provided is but a small beginning. It is not THE answer. Still, it is a needed step. Many can and will raise needed funds, offer to volunteer, and challenge public policy to do better… in God’s name.

The road is long and filled with twists and turns, social detours, myths about addiction, mental health and blindness to our own complicity in the “social welfare” practices in this country, and the misdirected, cruel political impulses and assault of so many in power in this time. Our culture lives with the myth of hero and victim. It is the “Hero Journey” story that Jung and Campbell identified as embedded in all we perceive as possible. It is so fully ingrained in our psyche and social systems that, sadly, we turn others into “clients” rather than “neighbors” and are more comfortable in speaking of THEY rather than with US.

It will take time — this turning the soil. Still as a Christian I recall the hymn refrain “We are not alone, for God is with us.” ‘Naive’ you say, of course it appears that way, of course. Others are using their constructions of false gods to continue cruelty. I know. That is why those who have theologies more tied to the larger, historic faith story must now speak the truth, afresh. Until some have seen a life changed, a person healed from addiction and communities moving away from cruel patterns of greed and domination, we are stuck. And, until a community is seen pulling together to solve such challenges, many will call me naive. I prefer to call it our shared hopes, foundational for the future — that we can care for one another. Check it out. This is a core teaching of Christianity and other great faith traditions. Interdependence is more essential to humanity’s long-term survival than independence.

Paul Farmer, remarkable physician and founder of Partners in Health (PIH) understood his life’s work as “The Long Defeat.” He said, “I have fought the long defeat and brought other people on to fight the long defeat, and I’m not going to stop because we keep losing. Now I actually think sometimes we may win. I don’t dislike victory. … You know, people from our background-like you, like most PIH-ers, like me-we’re used to being on a victory team, and actually what we’re really trying to do in PIH is to make common cause with the losers. Those are two very different things. We want to be on the winning team, but at the risk of turning our backs on the losers, no, it’s not worth it. So you fight the long defeat.” [From Tracy Kidder, “Mountains Beyond Mountains: The Quest of Dr. Paul Farmer, a Man Who Would Cure the World.”]

So, pick up a shovel, write a check, welcome the stranger, say ‘hello’, ask the stranger her/his name, smile… and keep doing it in your community, whereever you are. Keep at it, even when times are tough. My friend Wes Jackson put it this way, “If you think your life’s work can be accomplished in your lifetime, you are not thinking big enough!”

Corn-Bred

~ philipamerson ~ 1 Comment

Corn-Bred

I’m a Hoosier, Indiana born and bred, on most July Sundays I can be found at church. On the best Sundays, the benediction ended, I then head for sweet corn at home from the farmer’s market.  Bought the day before from a young Amish teen in the City Hall parking lot.  Straw hat, gray shirt, grayer suspenders, blond curls and a sneaky, shiny smile. From down near Paoli most likely, I surmise – the corn and the smile.  “Picked this morning” he offers. “In the moonlight?” I tease, in return. We trade a chortle. The grin and banter worth the entire purchase price alone; but I win, as I carry off a half-dozen ears.  “He smiles with his eyes, he does.” I heard it growing up, like him I bet.

Early July, Indiana sweet corn is extra-scrumptious; I prescribe as it a necessary antidote to the extra-boneheaded politicians who now scour the state dressed in a toxic religious wardrobe. Deceptions attached to their bigotry like the sown-on-shadow of Peter Pan. This summer sweet corn is better. Much needed offset to the racism, so appreciated in the summer heat of ’25.  

Worship was delicious too this Sabbath. A needed cure offered, beginning with soaring music.  A fanfare for a refurbished organ followed by hymn texts full of ancient, hard-won truths. The anthem is fetched from the apothecary of faith. “It is well with my soul” lingers still. Take that, you many poisons of the soul, you dividers of a nation.

The stage is set by the liturgy – we are called to hope and not despair; and, then a sermon, chasing down our shared deeper story.  Listen again to Naaman’s healing. His trust in his own power, his military hardware, is insufficient to bring peace.  No, no, no, empathy is not “a bug in the system,” Mr. Musk.  Empathy marks true humanity.  A “healed femur is the sign of the beginning of civilization” Margaret Mead once noted.  The wonderful irony of the powerful finding healing and justice by finally heeding the counsel of a young girl.  She brings a four-star general to his knees and his senses… and more than an outer leprosy is healed.  She did it well, both the young girl and the preacher this Sunday.  We are reminded that interdependence is more to be valued than independence.

It’s corn-bred wisdom that hubris and arrogance will end in dust. True in Elisha’s time and a lesson to be relearned now. God’s preference is for the small and marginal ones. The narrative is told over and again.  Let those with ears-to-hear, listen.  Too bad uncle Donald was on the golf course and missed learning how his story will end.  The closing hymn offers again this poetry of hope. Then I head home to sweet corn and a nap.

O God of every nation, Of every race and land,

Redeem the whole creation With your almighty hand. 

Where hate and fear divide us  And bitter threats are hurled,

In love and mercy guide us  And heal our strife torn world.

Rain begins as we walk home… “good for the sweet corn,” I think...

Corn-Bred

~ philipamerson

Corn-Bred

I’m a Hoosier, Indiana born and bred, on most July Sundays I can be found at church. On the best Sundays, the benediction ended, I then find sweet corn from the farmer’s market.  Bought the day before from a young Amish teen in the City Hall parking lot.  Straw hat, gray shirt, grayer suspenders, blond curls and a sneaky, shiny smile. From down near Paoli most likely, I surmise – the corn and the smile.  “Picked this morning” he offers. “In the moonlight?” I tease, in return. We trade a chortle. The grin and banter worth the entire purchase price alone; but I win, as I carry off a half-dozen ears.  “He smiles with his eyes, he does.” I heard growing up, like him I bet.

Early July, Indiana sweet corn is extra-scrumptious; I prescribe as it a necessary antidote to the extra-boneheaded politicians who now scour the state dressed in a toxic religious wardrobe, attached to their bigotry like the sown-on-shadow of Peter Pan. This summer sweet corn is better. Much needed offset the racism, appreciated in the heat of ’25.  

Worship was delicious too this Sabbath. A needed cure offered, beginning with soaring music.  A fanfare from refurbished organ followed by hymn texts full of ancient, hard-won truths. The anthem is fetched from the apothecary of faith. “It is well with my soul” lingers still. Take that, you many poisons of the soul, you dividers of a nation.

The stage is set by the liturgy – we are called to hope and not despair; and, then a sermon, chasing down our shared deeper story.  Listen again to Naaman’s healing. His trust in his own power, his military hardware, is insufficient to bring peace.  No, no, no, empathy is not “a bug in the system,” Mr. Musk.  Empathy marks true humanity.  A “healed femur is the sign of the beginning of civilization” Margaret Mead noted.  The wonderful irony of the powerful finding healing and justice by finally heeding the counsel of a young girl.  She brings a four-star general to his senses… and more than an outer leprosy is healed.  She did it well, both the young girl and the preacher.  We are reminded that interdependence is more to be valued than independence.

It’s corn-bred wisdom that hubris and arrogance will end in dust.  True in Elisha’s time and a lesson to be relearned now. God’s preference for the small and marginal ones. The narrative is told over and again.  Let those with ears-to-hear, listen.  Too bad uncle Donald was on the golf course and missed learning how his story will end.  The closing hymn offers again this poetry of hope. Then I head home to sweet corn and a nap.

O God of every nation, Of every race and land,

Redeem the whole creation With your almighty hand. 

Where hate and fear divide us  And bitter treats are hurled,

In love and mercy guide us  And heal our strife torn world.

Rain begins as we walk home… “good for the sweet corn,” I think...

Sickness Unto Death

~ philipamerson ~ 1 Comment

Sickness Unto Death

Philip Amerson                                              May 1, 2025

Hope, when joined with mutual respect, becomes the oxygen supply for the lungs of a healthy democracy. In these troubled times, 19th Century Danish Philosopher Søren Kierkegaard offers perspective, a challenge, and a way beyond suffocating despair. In his classic “Sickness Unto Death,” this Christian theologian speaks of despair as a sin. Despair is, he suggests, a sin even worse than death. The reader is counseled to find the small pathways ahead, to persist, even when tempted to be captured in the clutches of fear and doubt – even when tempted to be held hostage to despair.  While anxiety may be unavoidable; Kierkegaard argues life calls us to continue forward, step by step, with whatever small light available.

Fear and disrespect are endemic in our nation. There is a tariff on HOPE. Many national and state officials are intent on destroying our “Commons” – the institutional trust established over the past two centuries. They act in ways to paralyze, to control, to tie us in contemporary knots of despair. Normality, civility, and decency are submerged in autocratic surges washing across our society.

This deluge is intended to overwhelm, to control, to undermine.  Such a “flooding the zone” strategy comes ceaselessly at us and from many tributaries: threats to the funding and governance of our universities: ending humanitarian aid to the poorest in our world; closing of scientific research necessary for public health; attacks on the judiciary and law firms; the deconstruction of a free and independent press; pressures on elected officials that leave one U.S. Senator saying “we are all afraid”; and, at base, there is the undoing of the personal constitutional rights for ordinary citizens and anxious refugees. These all coincide with what can be identified as practiced strategies from an autocratic playbook, one that has been tested and proven effective in other nations.

Alongside this national deluge of intolerance, the Indiana Legislature ended its recent session passing bills that can only be understood as a war on health care, on public education and on the poor. Indiana Senate Bill 289 was adopted as an “anti-DEI measure.” Touted as “bringing balance” to the teaching of history, civics and the social sciences, it instead is designed to censor, punish, place a chilling effect over public school districts or university curricula. It is a threat to any who dare depart from the ‘official truth’ presumed by those in power. It is an effort deny the tragic realities of racial, economic, religious, and sexual discrimination in our past and to end discussion of systemic economic disparities that continue.  Limits to funding Medicaid and public health resources will have devastating consequences on the poor in the state, delaying and denying needed care.

Persons without shelter in Indiana can now be placed in jail and/or face a $500 fine for “camping on the streets”! To add insult to injury, the final draft of the state’s budget contained a Trojan Horse, with the insertion, without public input, calling for “productivity reviews” of university faculty. It also included dramatically altered board governance structures for Indiana University giving the governor power to select all the university board members.

Apart from such legislation, other efforts to upend the truth and distort reality are astonishing. Indiana Lieutenant Governor, Micah Beckwith, posted a recent video celebrating what he misleadingly calls a “great compromise” made at the 1787 Constitutional Convention. Beckwith asserts the decision to count persons held as slaves as 3/5ths human (as property) was “a great move forward that led to the abolishment of slavery.” He turns history on its head, ignores the resulting decades of abuse, lynchings, and systemic discrimination. He quite literally whitewashes the dehumanization of slavery, the segregation that followed with Jim Crowe laws, mortgage redlining and the enduring systemic discrimination. Beckwith attempts to tell us that “what is up is down and what is true is false.” He ignores the tragic reality of more than a million men killed or severely wounded in the bloody U. S. Civil War and undercuts the Thirteenth, Fourteenth and Fifteenth Amendments to the constitution passed to assure the rights for all and designed to undergird equality. 

A good friend recently said, “For the first time in my adult life, I am embarrassed to be a Hoosier and related to Indiana University.”  Referring to the deluge of discriminatory initiatives taken by the governor and state legislature, he was also noting, with sadness, a compliant university administration, that has over and again failed to support academic freedom or stand against the bigotry of supercharged bullies. My friend spoke his sadness over the growing and blatant displays of racism and intolerance. Even so, despite such recent efforts, my friend said he was not giving up or dropping out.

Yes, these are unsettling times. The drift – make that the flood – toward intolerance, deception, and fascism is upon us.  We dare not hide or take cover in some false cocoon of isolation, thinking we can somehow choose to avoid the sin of despair.

During the recent Little 500 Weekend in Bloomington horrible, racist posts were placed on social media. They spoke of “the smell of welfare” and “turning Bloomington’s Kirkwood Avenue into Atlanta.”  There was more racist language, much worse than this, designed to encourage bigotry and foster white nationalism. These days such social media posts are likely generated by bots, foreign and domestic. They are designed to inflame passions and make false claims about marginalized others and are intentionally framed to spread fear and do harm.

Those of us who have the privileges accompanying “safe” racial identities, or our education, or other accidents of history dare not give in to despair.  As Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. put it “We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny.” King was not simply suggesting all our histories and futures are connected and interdependent; he is also saying the struggles for civil rights for everyone must not end.  There continues to be work that needs to be done and injustices to be addressed.

Kirkegaard’s insights 175 years ago still ring true: despair that immobilizes is worse than death. Anxiety is a human given, but despair is a sin. Eleanor Roosevelt proposed “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.” Social scientists W. I. and Dorothy Thomas offered that “What we perceive to be real becomes real in its consequences.”  How then shall we act?

Kirkegaard’s “Instead of Death” is based on the story of Lazarus as told in the eleventh chapter of the Gospel of John. On hearing the news of Lazarus’ passing, Jesus responds, “This sickness will not end in death.” Those captured in despair, will miss the potential for life. We have the power to choose how we react to horrible news, to deadly external influences.  Despair is a loss of perspective, a loss of agency, of self-worth.  It is a loss of hope.

What now are our choices?  What then can we do?  We begin by repudiating the climate of fear.  We can act and not be washed away in the fascist flood.  We can make a difference. 

Here are three areas to explore:

  1. When you see something, say something. An African American friend tells of being disrespected while shopping. In checking out, a clerk used clearly disrespectful and demeaning language. To my friend’s surprise, another customer, nearby, overhearing the exchange, gently but firmly in a quiet and clear voice said, “We are all better than this.”  Later, in the parking lot, the surprising voice offered support and friendship. We can welcome difference.  Maybe it is as simple as responding to a frown with a smile. A phone call, a visit that may help another. We can thank others for what they do. Ask how you might help. Encourage a teacher, a coach, a nurse, a therapist. Express appreciation to those who serve as police officers, fire fighters, local government officials.  Support public radio and television now are under attack.
  2. Reach out, make a new friend, and/or make a difference somewhere. Loneliness and fear are often the source of distrust and misunderstanding. This is a time to find ways to support the good work of programs like Exodus Immigration Refugee, NAACP, the Human Rights Commission. Host a dinner or picnic where persons from diverse backgrounds are welcomed and introduced. Perhaps make a new friend and together support our public schools in new ways, perhaps as a tutor or in support of a teacher. In Bloomington there are ways to support the healthcare for those with few resources through groups like HealthNet or by offering gratitude to our After-Hours Ambassadors working with the Community and Family Resource Department. We can write the university president asking why her administration does not better respond to attacks on academic freedom or to racist tweets that damage the sense of wellbeing among our students and other residents.  Ask the president why the university doesn’t join in efforts provide more for low-income housing, while it is the university driving up enrollments contributes to housing shortage and expense? Ask your banker, pastor, corporate leader how they might contribute to a more diverse racially community?  For some of us, who have the opportunity and occasion, we need to encourage broad representation from marginalized populations on boards and as candidates for leadership positions.
  3. Do one thing daily to challenge bigotry and discrimination.  Yes, I am going to say it – call or write your congressional or state representative challenging them to act against the flood of disinformation and intimidation. This is basic.  Write a letter to the editor.  Some days it may be as simple as being a friend to someone you know or a stranger you meet.

No need to be a crusader – some have that calling.  Others of us can do just one thing a day. Every day we can chose action and not fall into the sin of despair.

Francis: A Broken, Open Man

~ philipamerson ~ 1 Comment

Francis: A Broken, Open Man

Easter Monday 2025: Pope Francis is dead. I read the headlines, and glancing above my desk, see a copy of what I believe is one of the most important documents of our age. Laudato Si, the encyclical Francis offered a decade ago as a word of concern and hope.

Speaking of the natural world as “our common home” Laudato Si, simply means “praise be to you.” It is offered as a diagnosis, a prayer, a remedy for the health our good earth. Educated as a scientist and theologian, Francis offers carefully researched science linked with finely crafted moral guidelines. Part science, part ethics, and part poetry this is a call for honest attention and constructive action around the changes to our climate.

Here is an example of science and faith in conversation, each respectfully engaging the other. Science, thickly presented; moral theology merged in an appeal for an open “integral ecology.” Environmental activist Bill McKibben writes this “is arguably the most important piece of writing so far this millennium.”

Here is one summary sentence: “We are faced not with two separate crises, one environmental and the other social, but rather with one complex crisis which is both social and environmental.” It is the poor and refugee who already suffer, first and most, from ignoring the treatment to our common home.

Late in 2023 I was privileged to travel to Argentina. The most popular personage was not Pope Francis.  Images of another Argentinian, soccer (futbol) star Lionell Messi, were seen on every block. Shops were full of Messi’s jerseys (#10 or #30). Shops were filled with bobblehead dolls of Messi for sale; and nearby, a few were available of Pope Francis. When I asked a shopkeeper why? She whispered, “some are upset with the pope.”  More on that later.

In Buenos Aires we visited Cardinal Jorge Bergoglio’s assignment prior to the papacy. The Metropolitan Cathedral faces the Plaza de Mayo. At the other end of the plaza is the Casa Rosada (Argentina’s White House). The plaza is where the Mothers of the Disappeared gathered to protest during the “dirty war” (1976 to 1983) when it is estimated 30,000 young people were “disappeared” by the military junta in charge. The Mothers offered a human rights witness, a statement against the dictator.

This plaza is still a place where resistance to authoritarianism is on display. During our visit “stones of remembrance” were being placed around the statue of General Manuel Belgrino, leader of the fight for independence in the early 19th Century.  These stones today are an expression of grief for the more the 100,000 who had died of COVID as national leaders failed to respond.

Pope Francis knew this history, the struggles for human rights and the dilemmas of the poor. He believed in the connection of all people and creation and chose the name “Francis,” as signal St. Francis of Assisi would be a guide star.

In 2023 Argentina’s presidential election saw the ascendency of the flamboyant “anarcho-capitalist” Javier Melei, who lifted a chain saw during his campaign as example of his fight against what he called the evils of “collectivism” and the idiocy of “social justice.” Melei called Francis an “imbecile” for his efforts to aid the poor.

There was said to be a reconciliation in February 2024 when President Melei met with Pope Francis in Rome. Even so, a year later, in early 2025, Elon Musk stood on stage joining with Melei as Musk put on his own chainsaw routine to suggest that social programs in the U.S. should be cut out and destroyed with his DOGE efforts.

Returning to the shop keeper who spoke of some who were disappointed with the pope, she went on to say that Argentinians were most unhappy when in 2019 Francis visited Brazil and Chile but had “flown over” his own nation.  Ah, yes, Francis critiqued for not touching down in Argentina!  Nationalism alive and well… all around the world.

There is irony in the fact that one of the last visitors with Pope Francis prior to his death was U.S. Vice President JD Vance, a recent Catholic convert. Vance disagrees with the witness of Pope Francis on climate change, immigration, refugees, the war in Ukraine, to name only a few. Has JD Vance read Laudato Si?  Does the current U.S. Administration know of this work?  If so, what of the closing of USAID? Do any of the “faith leaders” surrounding our president offer a witness that considers the poor of our world or the climate crisis we face?

Some pundits today suggest Pope Francis has not changed the lyrics of the Catholic Church, just the music.  By this it is meant he didn’t transform specific dogma on abortion, homosexuality, or the role of women.  I believe he nudged us toward the future. Perhaps he moved these concerns from music in minor to a major key.

Changing the structures and practices of millennial old institutions is a one-hundred-year or two-hundred-year endeavor.  What we have been privileged to witness in Francis is one broken, open man, who gave himself fully for others in the hope of healing of our world.

I Will Call Her ‘Elizabeth’

~ philipamerson ~ 1 Comment

I Will Name Her ‘Elizabeth’

A block ahead of me, she slowly trod. She wears a blanket falling from her shoulders like a train dragging behind as if a royal gown. She turns at the corner, and I notice her bare feet. No crown, just matted hair from a rough night on the streets. Late March, evening temps were cool, but tolerable, I guess.  Still a blanket helped warm from to the chilly breeze.  Her gait made me think of her as “royalty on these mean streets” and I decided to name her ‘Elizabeth Rex.’

Another block, I have caught up and pass as we cross the street together.  At the corner of Kirkwood and Walnut, she stops and slowly turns. The grimy blanket end has gathered sidewalk debris.  Across from the Courthouse, near a restaurant I frequent, Elizabeth looked my way. Our eyes met and she quietly asks, “Do you know where I can get some shoes?”  I asked her name and where she was staying. She said she lives on the streets.  Had for nine years.  I doubted that, but I didn’t want to argue. 

Then from nowhere she says, “I’m an addict… a drug addict.”  I nod and ask what she was using.  “Meth, and some other stuff.”  “It can be dangerous,” I say.  I tell her that I have lost some friends to addiction.  She nods.  “What size shoes do you need? She stares into space for a long moment, then answers “nine-and-a-half.”  I doubt this as well.  Then, catching her eye again, I say there is a place nearby that can help.  Have you heard of Beacon? She stares off in the distance and nods “no.”

Calling her name, which was not Elizabeth, I said I would ask someone to bring some shoes if she wished.  She nod “yes.”  I call Elaine and ask if she could find something in our closet.  Elaine agrees and heads our way in her car.

I tell ‘Elizabeth’ that shoes and socks were on the way.  I then said again, “We can take you to a place that can offer more help.”  There was no sign of recognition, just that distant stare. We sat quietly for a few minutes near the crosswalk. Shortly a horn was sounding nearby.  It was Elaine.  I asked my new friend “Elizabeth,” if we could give her a ride to a place where she could have more help.  Over and again, I pointed and told her about Beacon, a place only a few blocks away that could help.  I opened the front door of Elaine’s Prius and invited her to take a seat.  “No, no,” she said, “God doesn’t want me to ride in cars, NO!”

Taking the bag from Elaine the woman and I sat on a nearby bench. I gave her the bag with socks and shoes and a few other healthcare aids.  She slowing pulled on the socks.  The shoes were TOO LARGE but the best we had to offer. She put them on.  I smiled, and feeling very Christian, I handed her a $20 bill.  She walked away – and I, experiencing an all too familiar voyeur’s guilt, took a photo.

Then, to my surprise she turned and walked back.  “Will you pray for me?” she asks. “Yes, yes,” I reply, “How about now?” We stood in the middle of the sidewalk and with my hand touching the royal blanket over her shoulder, I pray.  I prayed for her as a beloved child of God.  I pray that she would be delivered from her addiction.  I pray that she would know health and the love of others and discover places where she would not be harmed. “Amen” we said together.

Then to my surprise she said, “I cannot take this, none of it.”.  Handing me the $20, she sat down and removed shoes and socks. Putting them back in the small sack, she stood replacing the blanket over her shoulder she started away.  I tried to persuade, “Please keep them, the socks and shoes.” There was that glazed stare, birthed from addiction, abuse, fear, illness, poverty, or all-of-the-above… and more.  I tried again.  “Why don’t I sit the bag over there?” pointing to a nearby site.  “You can have it when I go away.”

“That would work,” she mumbled, repeating it over. I was pleased and sat the full bag on a step about 10 feet away.  I left.  Or I pretended to leave.  I crossed to the other side of the street and hurried down the block. Using the corner of the old Ladyman’s Restaurant as a shield, I watched.  I saw her pick up the sack.  She stood a long time at the corner, then crossed to my side of the street.  “Yes!” I whispered as I saw her carrying the bag.  When she turned and headed my way I quickly retreated, out of sight. 

I hustled past a church where I once served as the pastor, a quarter of a century ago, where we had begun a day center for persons without shelter. Turning east at the next corner, Fourth Street. I was out of sight, but “Elizabeth” and the millions of others like her, was not out of my thoughts.

What does it mean that our society cannot do better to aid persons without shelter, persons who struggle with addictions or mental illness?  What does it say about effectiveness of congregations, like this good one, that there are more persons on the streets without shelter than there were twenty-five years ago?  What does it say about me? My city? This university town filled with all our so-called experts? Why am I still so clumsy in honoring the humanity, the divinity, the royalty, of persons like Elizabeth?

Brokenhearted, Yet a Wholehearted Hope

~ philipamerson ~ 1 Comment

Brokenhearted, Yet a Wholehearted Hope

Brokenhearted. In prayer for those suffering the wildfires in Los Angeles area. So many friends there, great folks in wonderful neighborhoods now destroyed or threatened.

Sad to learn the lovely Altadena United Methodist Church building was destroyed. I think of friends in, and nearby, who must be suffering and facing great uncertainty. Altadena UMC is a place where my dear friends, Rev. Mark Trotter and Rev. Yvonne Boyd served in different eras over the years. They built and sustained a strong and welcoming congregation.

In Altadena, the Jet Propulsion Lab and many graceful parks, museums, and educational centers are nearby. It was a place where racial exclusion and redlining was exposed in the 1960s and for many decades has been rich in racially diverse neighborhoods. You see, this fire may be destroying more than homes — also lost is the experience of neighbors who shared gifts brought by differing cultures and life experiences.

Of course, Pasadena is close by – we think of friends there. At Huntington Library and Gardens, Fuller Seminary, several other congregations. There also is the California Pacific UMC conference headquarters.  Dear ones, we treasure, are facing threat in Pasadena… some have been put on alert to prepare to evacuate. We pray for them.

So many, now vulnerable areas, and friends at risk — Glendale, Hollywood, Santa Clarita and, of course, the Palisades. We commit to share our small financial support that can go for ALL those who suffer today.  We are proud to know that United Methodists have offered shelter and outreach to those facing this tragedy.  See: https://www.calpacumc.org/news/cal-pac-fire-updates-january-8-2025/

Other denominations, churches, mosques and synagogues also now offer spaces of refuge and care. In the midst of ongoing infernos, there is a broader and deeper expression of common humanity. Some reports of looters, but these pale in comparison to the expansive acts of neighborly care.

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And one other word… what can be said of the moral depravity of the incoming president? Isn’t he a looter of our commonweal? Aren’t his words robbing us of the chance to honor others and practice neighbor-love in a time of need, absent of ugly incrimination. I say “yes.” He is a looter of the common good.

He, who always presents himself as the greatest of victims, shows little or no empathy for those who are truly suffering. He blames, distorts, creates division and uses this tragedy to score political points. Why this perpetual need to harm? What inferno has burned across his soul and left this abyss that lacks humanity or humility? Is it that he is afraid of a tragedy taking away his place on center stage?

Surely there are many reasons for this tragedy… too little water storage? But there was also too much rain in recent years contributing to increased vegetation. Vegetation that turned into fuel over months of draught. Of course, there are questions of building such large communities in desert areas and diverting water away from natural flow. Ask the folks in Mexico about the trickle of the Colorado River that was once a wide and potent source of life and beauty. There are also profound questions about our national and international dependance on petroleum that contributes to changes in our climate.

In recent years, taking a cue from folks like Wendell Berry and Wes Jackson, I have sought to follow “a way of ignorance.” By this, they mean admitting there is so much we do not know, and MUCH to learn, as we journey ahead. We start with an awareness of much yet to be discovered. It keeps one honest and appropriately humble. Admitting, first, there is much to learn and to love. There is so much that is unknown about persons, communities and the natural world – and it also offers space for growth and discovery – space for delight. 

Sadly, I also see that some chose a differing “way of ignorance.” This one is rooted in fear, arrogance and denial. This is an ignorance based in fear and the need to control. It blocks new insights, transformation, unity and joy.  It persists in brokenness and grievance.  I pray for the incoming president today, that he might be healed of this way of acting and behaving.

Brokenhearted, yet I also will wholeheartedly give my energies, in the limited years I have remaining, to joining the good work of others, like my United Methodist friends, in encouraging our nation and world toward a better way. I will name the “looters of the common good,” persons like Donald Trump, as I give thanks to the millions of witnesses who offer care, hope and new discovery, even in the face of tragedy.

The Ugliest Four Letter Word

~ philipamerson ~ 3 Comments

The Ugliest of All the Four Letter Words?

News came of the death of my dear friend Bill Pannell, evangelist, retired professor at Fuller Seminary. Our nation and the church have lost a great leader, a remarkable person. His clarity, his witness, helped hundreds-of-thousands of Christians follow the path of Jesus of Nazareth.

So many memories: I last spoke with Bill in the spring. We recalled a worship service at Goshen College Mennonite Church several years ago. Bill preached. The sermon was on “the ugliest four-letter word of them all. ” That word? “THEM.” Turning others into an enemy — separating one another from God’s purposes. “THEM.” This, Bill preached, was the ugliest of all words in the English language.

Bill offered another way, the Jesus way. He spoke of a nonviolent welcoming of the stranger. He called for an inviting all to our tables of conversation and care. Bill was not naive. He knew deeply and personally the pain of exclusion and bigotry. Even so, he understood that hate, revenge and retribution were only a road to human tragedy. Turning others into “them” contridictied the core of the Christian message.

His books “My Friend the Enemy” and “The Coming Race Wars” call for a discipleship that includes ALL. Today, Jemar Tisby carries on much of Bill’s witness.

Forgive me this prideful note, but I still remember that as Bill stood to preach in Goshen College Church that Sunday, he looked out and said, “Phil, is that you?” I was stunned. There were several hundred others there. It had been several years since we had last spoken. I nodded “yes.” He then said, “How good to fellowship with one another!” Neither of us were Mennonites; although we loved their faithful witness. I didn’t know Bill was going to be the preacher that morning. Elaine and I went to hear the glorious harmonies of Mennonite hymn singing. Bill, understood and expresed a note of the gift of the Anabaptist witness — “How good it is to be in fellowship with all.”

Today, I give thanks for the witness of William Pannell — Our nation needs his wisdom and faithful word today, perhaps more than ever. Jim Wallis captures this in his recent article about our mutural friend, Bill Pannell:

https://religionnews.com/2024/10/18/the-gospel-according-to-bill-pannell/?utm_source=RNS+Updates&utm_campaign=e19d65e382-EMAIL_CAMPAIGN_2024_10_20_06_10&utm_medium=email&utm_term=0_c5356cb657-e19d65e382-%5BLIST_EMAIL_ID%5D

Crowd Size, Not So Much

~ philipamerson

Crowd Size, Not So Much

I know the tyranny of numbers. How many?  How much? In my work-life there were always such questions: What is the average in worship attendance, pastor?  How large is your enrollment, seminary administrator?

Counting is deeply embedded in our culture; math is essential for a strong citizenry. I recall my children delighting in Sesame Street’s Muppet Count Von Count. Even so, the oft overlooked and more critical understandings are based in asking “what should be counted and to what purpose?”  What are the essential measures for the health of a congregation, school, government program or social service agency? A hospital can report the number of beds, or the financial bottom line, but what of the morale of the staff, or trust patents have in a nurse or physician?

My dear colleague, Walter Wangerin, Jr., first alerted me to an overlooked theme in scripture. Reminding me that the fourth book of the Christian Bible is the “Book of Numbers” Walt noted that throughout the narratives, when the focus shifts from knowing the people to numbering them, danger is ahead.

In an astonishing fabrication, former President Donald Trump, claimed “No one has spoken to crowds bigger than me.” He said more people attended his January 6th, 2020 event prior to the attack on the capital building, than attended Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech.  Truth is 250,000 gathered on the Capital Mall on August 28, 1963. It was a crowd five times larger. Think on this: how do these two speeches differ in purpose? Crowds gathered to do what? Was it to enrich and extend our democracy or to upend it?

The Gospels are filled with stories of crowds following Jesus, anticipating his every move. Some first century census taker reported 4,000 and 5,000 at meals. One of these stories breaks open the myth that size matters, as a small boy gives his lunch of five barley loaves and two fish (John 6) toward the feeding of everyone.

There is no doubt that crowd size is seen as an indicator of popularity and power.  Adolf Hitler loved to brag about the size of his crowds in World War II Germany. However, there is another way to think of the gathering of people around a leader. Jesus of Nazareth, who often faced the press of crowds said: “For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them (Matthew 18:20 KJV).  As to power and authority, this Jesus said, “You’ve observed how godless rulers throw their weight around, how quickly a little power goes to their heads. It’s not going to be that way with you. Whoever wants to be great must become a servant” (Matthew 20:26, MSG). 

Those in our time who suggest Mr. Trump is God’s choice, have a problem bigger than his persistent lies; they have a Jesus problem. Jesus spoke of small gifts, shared in hope, as core indicators of God’s true purposes. God’s realm often was understood as yeast, seed, salt and light. Jesus looked out on the crowds with compassion and taught that love of God and neighbor was the highest good. Everyone counted. Bragging about crowd size and seeking division and fear for personal gain, not so much.

Seeing The Unhoused: One City’s Proposal

~ philipamerson ~ 1 Comment

Seeing the Unhoused: One City’s Proposal

Like hundreds of cities across the United States, Bloomington, Indiana, my home, is a place where we face the challenge of unhoused persons surviving on our streets. Because we are a generous and caring community, our town is seen as a place of welcome. Sadly, it is also a place where the number of persons facing chonic homelessness continues to grow and our resources fail to offer hopeful ways forward.

What follows is a column for our local newspaper, The Herald Times. Perhaps there are some ideas here that could be of value as you seek to offer responses in your communities. Perhaps you have some suggestions that you can share to be helpful to us. Here is the column:

Missing Ingredients in Housing Assistance Plans

On Tuesday evening August 6th the Bloomington City Council received a “comprehensive” Housing Action Plan. It was presented by Bloomington Mayor Kerry Thomson, Mary Morgan, the director of Heading Home of South Central Indiana, and advocates from several service groups. It is an ambitious six-year plan designed to make street homelessness “brief, rare and non-repeating.”  It is indeed a dramatic and critical step in the right direction, but comprehensive?

The plan is bold.  As The Herald Times reports, it proposes “significant” investments coming from “multiple” sources.  It will require increased dollars, imagination and durable civic commitment.  The report is found at: headinghomeindiana.org/news/housing-action-plan/.   It deserves the community’s immediate endorsement and financial investment. Seeking 1,000 low-rent housing units by 2027, and 3,000 such units by 2030, is a HUGE challenge.  Adding ten additional Healthnet street outreach staff and many more case workers at existing homeless services is appropriate. We need such a commitment.

The idea of a moratorium on helping unhoused persons from out of town for a period is strong and distasteful medicine.  Even so, it may be what is required while other communities, and the State of Indiana, do not act in more caring ways for the vulnerable among us all.  A temporary moratorium to regain a balance and offer sufficient safe housing, healthcare and see an end to persons living on the streets deserves exploration.  Such a step, so long as the commitment to dramatically increase low-income housing is also accomplished, could serve as a model for other communities in Indiana and beyond.

STILL, this is not a “comprehensive” plan.  It is good.  It is bold.  It includes parties that have stood too long on the sidelines, parties like Indiana University and I. U. Health.  But is it “comprehensive”?  Nope, don’t think so.

Three elements are noticeably missing: 

  • First, how will each of us, as citizens, in Bloomington, act in new and meaningful ways to support such a plan?  More basically, how will we behave to understand that “these people” seen as “problems,” and “outsiders,” are part of us, our tribe, our social network, our family?  As Kevin Adler and Don Burnes write in “When We Walk By: Broken Systems and the Role We Can Each Play in Ending Homeless in America,” the people we see as foreigners are persons with families – often they come from nearby biological families, and all are certainly a part of our larger human family.  What reading, thinking, acting, praying might we do together as citizens to provide a witness as to a better way?
  • Second, aren’t faith communities essential in providing motivation, resources, volunteers, leadership, imagination and even shelter space (emergency and longer-term)?  Why are they not at the planning table?  Yes, a few “religious groups” are mentioned as “providers;” but I would argue any comprehensive plan would include faith communities as essential “stake holders” and critical to the designing and implementing any sustainable plan. What if this is not simply an economic, addiction or heath care issue?  What if it is a spiritual one as well? By this I do not mean to suggest a moral failing of those without shelter, but rather, a spiritual failure of our community and nation. The irony, of course, is that many, dare I say most, of homeless assistance resources in Bloomington were initiated and have been largely undergirded by faith-based vision, volunteers and financial support. A good case can be made that faith groups and leaders have been missing-in-action in recent years as we have been too focused on our own congregations with too little focus on being good neighbors. Oh, there are some fine individual congregational programs, but working with others in a coordinated way?  Not so much. 
  • Finally, and perhaps most importantly, there is no mention of how persons identified as “homeless” will be engaged in envisioning and implementing a “comprehensive” plan.  Many, many, who are currently living on the streets bring gifts, insights, connections and experience to assist in making homelessness “brief, rare and non-repeating.”  These folks without shelter have names.  Any plan needs to be imbued with an understanding that working with vulnerable persons is critically different from doing for “them.”  Rather than clients, patients or “the needy,” what might we do to act in ways that find a space where all of us can act as fellow citizens?