How can we respond to Boston?

How can we respond to the bombing in Boston?

Dedicate a marathon?  Done.

Do we pass judgment?  Done.

Start a conspiracy theory?  Done and Done.

Give blood?  I guess…

I was involved with my Tuesday afternoon “Progressive Christianity” Discussion Group when this question was raised.  I answered the question in the moment,  but continued to think about my best response as the rest of the afternoon transpired.  I thought about it as I did the dishes (we like to eat in our discussion groups); I thought about it as I drove home (hands at 10 and 2 even if my mind was elsewhere…) and now I’m ready to answer.  This answer won’t get me great marks in a Systematic Theology exam… it may not even get me through the night… but here it is:

How do we respond to the bombing in Boston?

We give blood.

We adopt a world vision child.

We call a lonely friend.

We volunteer to read to the blind.

We write letters to protect our water.

We raise awareness of the looming environmental challenges.

We speak kindly to strangers and smile at scowling people.

We pray.

In short, we invest ourselves in the Kingdom of God.  

Now, I appreciate that the term “Kingdom of God” is fraught with peril.  It is paternalistic.  It speaks to empire and oppression.  It is exclusive for many and it does not convey clearly what Jesus meant…   I know.  We've lost the sense of “satire” that would have been evident in the first century when it was a phrase meant to challenge the Roman Empire…  Some would suggest that Jesus would speak of a "Parliament of God" if he were in Ottawa today, challenging us to wonder what a government would look like if Jesus were running things… (would forgiveness be guaranteed Mike Duffy?)  Some have suggested that Jesus might have called it the “Insurgency of God” in our modern context.  I think that both examples, as well as the popular “Commonwealth of God” lose some of what I value.  

In a Kingdom there is a shared identity, a sense of common purpose, defined by the Monarch – everything in the Kingdom is defined by or connected to the Ruler, including that lovely  Georgian table, Victorian lamp and Louis XV desk.   It is that commonality and connection that I value in the expression “Kingdom of God”.  The Kingdom of God was preached by Jesus as a reality that was imminent; present for those willing to see and live as if it were so.  For me, the Kingdom of God is evident when I pour myself out for another, when I connect myself to God’s agenda as I have seen it in Jesus:  visit the prisoners; feed the hungry, reach out to the marginalized, love the unlovable and invest in what the rest of the world says is foolish and impossible.  (when they say that it is impossible, I turn the other cheek). 

And like a Kingdom, everything is interrelated.  Connected through the King - so when I wonder what I can do about a place far away out of my reach or context, I can still respond by being part of the Kingdom.   My call to a lonely friend may not directly affect someone suffering from the effects of the explosions in Boston, but it does affect the Kingdom… and there is growth in the Kingdom, compassion grows and my response has value and effect.   When I give blood, it may not be given to someone in the Emerg' at Massachusetts General Hospital, but the Kingdom is advanced; fullness of life nurtured for one person and therefore for the whole of the Kingdom.

What this does for me, in a very real way, is keep me from becoming overwhelmed, shutting down and despairing.  I don’t know what to do for my brothers and sisters in Somalia today… I can write a letter, make a donation… but I can also fight for the rights of workers all around the world and know that it is a worthy response.  Worthy because it is all connected by God for all humanity to experience fullness of life.    Some may see this as a way to give $10 to the Humane Society and say that “I've done my part for Palestine” – but I see it more as a way of recognizing the reality that I cannot be everything to everybody; I don’t have the wisdom or resources to take on every cause or injustice… but I don’t have to.  I've been invited to work for and with the Kingdom of God that connects and touches us all and as I do what I can, I know that others are doing what they can… and together, we can realize the Kingdom in this time and place.

At least that’s what I was thinking on the way home…

That, and instead of the “Kingdom of God” maybe Jesus should have called it the “Internet of God”… that would communicate the pervasiveness and the connectedness… except ads and pop ups would probably ruin it.

Hard to Belieb

I was about to post this when the bombs at the Boston Marathon went off… It seemed to flip to publish that day.  However, it is still rattling around in my brain and on my hard-drive, so here it is:

It’s everywhere…

   I posted it on Facebook (so you know that it must be news)…

      Justin Bieber said something really stupid.

Shocking, I know.

Stephen Harper was secretive

Thomas Mulcair was confrontational

Justin Trudeau was really pretty

(more things that you just didn’t see coming…)*

So, the young Mr. Bieber visited the Anne Frank Museum for a private tour.  At the end of the tour he was invited to write in the guest book and wrote the following:  “Truly inspiring to be able to come here. Anne was a great girl. Hopefully she would have been a belieber."

Really?

Now, you might defend the statement by thinking that it was great that Justin was able to recognize Anne Frank as a little girl; a child who had dolls and toys and should have grown up to giggle about love and go on a date.  Justin’s ability to see her as “girl” and not just as a tragic icon reminds of the horrific loss to all of humanity: millions upon millions of little boys, girls, men and woman who were exactly like you and me lost to mass murder.

But, it still came off as flippant -  as if our Pop Star believed that if not for the genocide, she would have been so into his crazy dance beats.  How unlucky for them both.

It bothers many of us, that in face of the atrocities of the Nazi regime, Justin is still thinking about his music; his celebrity: Himself.

But should we be surprised?

No doubt, he is surrounded by all manner of “handlers” and assistants… people to fetch his water, make his breakfast, plan his day, fix his hair, keeps annoying strangers away, tell him how wonderful he is, keep his secrets and basically cater to his whims… For all intents and purposes, the world that Justin Beiber lives in IS all about him.

AND he’s not alone.

The M.S. St. Louis with 937 Jewish Refugees was not allowed to land in Canada in 1939… We didn't want them.

After two months and 1600 kms, a group of Cree youth were not greeted by our Prime Minister, because he was having his picture taken with Pandas in Toronto (a much better photo-op).

My cat comes calling at 6am each morning, and if I pretend to be asleep, she will wake my wife -  who can then get up and feed the cat, leaving me to luxuriate in my own bed.

To varying degrees, it always seems “to be about me”.  (or us… or him…  them… you know what I mean)

Our society certainly supports and promotes this attitude, as advertisements arrived through the mail, television and social media telling me that “I’m the one”… “I deserve this”…  “My future is important.”…   Facebook even tailors ads directly to me based on my history of “Liking” and commenting.  (still not sure why I’m getting so many ads for Lipitor and Cialis… what did I say? And to whom??)  In a Facebook and Twitter world it is all about me.

However, before I lay it all on the shoulders of Social Media and Coercive Capitalism, I think that religion deserves a poke, too.  I will speak only for my faith tradition, but feel free to adapt to be critical of your own.  In Christianity we have put quite a premium on and have a long history of emphasizing personal salvation.

Have YOU been saved?

Are YOU born again?

Is Jesus in YOUR heart?  

             (and he walks with me and he talks with me... and he tells me I am his own...)

Why weren't YOU in church last week?

I enjoy the looked of confusion when people apologize to me for not having been in church for the past few weeks and I reply, “I’m not really one to judge, after all, I’m paid to be here… “  But they have a serious sense of obligation; that somehow it is their job to get their bodies into a place of worship every week.

I can do whatever I pleases,

‘cause I’ve got my plastic Jesus,

on the dashboard of my car…           

  (here ends the sing-a-long portion of this blog)

It really is all about us.

I was asked recently by a very intelligent, committed individual as to the purpose of church.  She said, “If we’re all love by God – and I do believe that – than what’s the point in going?  To be reminded that we are loved?”

I offered that hearing and being assured that we are loved is important… we wouldn't let our children grow up without being told frequently how much we love them.  I added, however we can further mine this parent/child God/humanity metaphor when we consider the way that we love our children.  We want what’s best for them, we want them to make good choices, we want to offer our insight and experience as they decide… we hurt for them, we get upset with them and we sometimes hold their hands through hard times… so on-going church experience can mirror that.  The give and take of relationship… the sharing of love, more than just a statement of fact or condition: YOU ARE LOVED.

But, more than that, I added… we also go to church to be reminded that it’s not all about us.  We aren't just in this world to be personally comforted and saved.  We are in this world to be free… free for the other.  We are in this world to announce, promote and be the Kingdom of God: A way of being that is not coercive or violent, but just and loving.  Justice and Love are abstract notions until they are enacted; lived out by people.  People like us… and church equips us to be loving and just.  It challenges us to make a difference in the world.  It picks us up when we fall, encourages us when we doubt… it opens our hearts and minds, so that we can love one another, fully and completely.   Church exists to celebrate that it is NOT all about us…  And if we could really embrace that, truly live such an attitude and perspective, we might soon discover that hunger is not impossible to eradicate,

Violence need not be prevalent

Justice can be real

Passion and commitment can be honoured

Photo Ops can wait.

Refugees can be welcomed and embraced.

I can get up and feed the blessed cat

And Justin Beiber can visit the Anne Frank Museum and be left speechless.

At least that's what I believe (of course, it's not all about me)

*With apologies for foolish exaggerations and caricatures … I know that Prime minister Harper is not just secretive, Mr. Mulcair can be more then confrontation… Mr. Trudeau is not THAT pretty.

Boston and Brokenness

I had a blog ready to post… but today isn’t the day for my wit.

As I watch the coverage of the Bombing at the Boston Marathon, my mind has been going like this…

We Christians talk about ourselves as the body of Christ… and we mean it as more than simple literary metaphor.  We mean it as deep spiritual metaphor… we are the body of Christ.  We are many diverse parts, and yet one… we are invited to be as Jesus and heal, feed, dance, embrace, struggle and hurt, as his body.    

We also recognize the power of Jesus’ body broken in our communion celebration.  In that brokenness, love is revealed.  That brokenness is our way into understanding, embracing and sharing God’s love.  God’s love, the true “love” of the universe: the peace and wholeness that we all desire in our innermost beings, is not found in acts of strength or bravado; it is not conferred on another as a gift from on high… it comes pouring out and through a broken body.. and only through a broken body. 

In the face of the horror and tragedy of the Boston Marathon today, I cannot be unaffected.  As a Christian, I cannot look away… those broken bodies are my Lord.  I am one with those broken bodies.  That’s where my God can be found… not at some victory party when the enemy is defeated, but in the brokenness of my brothers and sisters.  It is here that I can discover the true power of love, the true heart of God.

I don’t know that means for you or me… what our responses should be… but I know that I cannot turn away.  I know that I can only truly understand, embrace and share this Divine love, when I am willing to be a part of the brokenness.  And not just my brokenness… but that of the whole body; the whole world.  

I know that I’m just rambling now… but I guess that I what I need to affirm, is that even though the people whose numbers I have in my Blackberry are safe and sound – my friends, my brothers and sisters, my Lord and MY body lie broken on Boylston Street.  And it hurts.

Sweat Pants and God

I was in the bank today waiting for the teller to be finished with somebody who was apparently managing the takeover of RIM through this one beleaguered teller.  As I was filling the time not cursing under my breath, I noticed that roadblock to my banking satisfaction was wearing flip flops and sweat pants two sizes too big for his skinny…  well, you know, waspish frame.

I looked around and noticed that most of the customers were very casual in their dress: It looked like breakfast in University Freshman residence.  I am not being judgmental… I was wearing old jeans, disguised Crocs (don’t tell my wife that I wore Crocs out in public!), and an old zippered hoody  (I may or may not have been wearing underwear).  Maybe it’s because I watched Madmen early this morning (thank you PVR), or because I had nothing else to do as I waited my turn for the teller (another account?? Come on, buddy!)… but do you remember when we used to dress up? 

Not just for weddings and funerals.  People used to dress up to get on an airplane, to go out for dinner, to go shopping… Men wore hats and were never seen without a jacket and tie.  My grandfather would wear a tie to chop wood (which might have got him fired, because really nobody appreciated him bringing all of that wood into work).  But we don’t dress up anymore.

Shopping in sweatpants… I think it was on Seinfeld that it was declared that sweatpants were a declaration to the world that one has given up!  I think that there may be something to this.  

Now, to be clear, I am a casual person: I wear jeans to work, I rarely tuck in my shirt and only recently bought ties after reading Fifty Shades of Grey… so, I’m not looking to get on Blackstone’s fashion list.  But I wonder if maybe this “casual” attitude to haberdashery isn't part of a great casual trend:  We don’t make things as well as we used to… many of us don’t work as hard or work to achieve the same excellence as we once did (good enough for them… close enough for jazz… ).  We’re relaxed and casual about it all.  

Including our faith and beliefs.  How many people really know what they believe?  How many are willing to contemplate, converse, wonder and strive to achieve a philosophy or faith that is actually of some value?  I’m not talking about a jingoistic repeating of phrases or a knee-jerk reaction that automatically disagrees with everything that contains a key word (your choice:  God, Spiritual, Catholic, Scientific, Atheist, Conservative, Liberal, Ke$ha).  I’m talking about a faith in something more than you… something worth working for (or dying for).  Something that challenges you and also comforts you – because you know that what you are working for matters; that what you believe in has value.   I find such a faith in the God that I recognize in Jesus… but that’s me.  I can respect other faiths… but it seems that many of us have donned the sweatpants of belief and declare to the world: I've given up.  We don't want to talk about what we believe.  Sometimes because we don't want to create conflict, but more often than not, I think that it's because we are insecure - we don't really know what we believe.  We have a couple of stories from childhood that we remember, maybe a couple of hymns or folk songs (Kumbaya, anybody?) and couple bumper stickers or FaceBook posts.  But anything with real depth??  Brother, that simply won't tweet!

Please, I ask of you:  Don’t give up. 

Look up.  

Speak up. 

Talk it up.  

Dress up… put on a hat… try a cravat... talk to somebody about what you believe, not in an effort to convert them or to prove your beliefs to be the best… but to engage together in a journey of discovery.  Try an idea on for size and see if it works for you. If it does, add it to your intellectual wardrobe; if not - take it in a bit here and there, bedazzle it... or toss it out and try something else on.  Talk and listen to another person about your philosophy of life, so as to show them respect… the respect of actually sharing something that matters; something that you have spent some time on creating - offer them the respect of listening and considering what they have to say.  You don’t have to be a published theologian… you don’t have to be a blogger (although, let’s be honest, bloggers are so cool!!  Really… that’s what my mom said…and she said that you all non-bloggers are just jealous).  You don’t have to have any experience in theologizing (wondering about God) or philosophizing (loving knowledge), you just have to be prepared to listen and learn.

And maybe... just maybe, we can find a way to grow together. 

Maybe... just maybe, we discover that faith and science can actually get along  

             - even inspire each other.

Maybe... just maybe, we find a place for reason and humility in some of our "religious" pursuits.

Maybe... just maybe, we can stop being puppets of the hate-mongers, the fear merchants and all of those people who insist that there is nothing that we can do about the world. 

Whatever happens... I am convinced that it begins, by getting out of our sweatpants.

   (at least in public)