One day last week I was backing out of a parking space in a small parking lot, having visited a hardware store for a couple of screws. I was mumbling to myself about something but I cannot recall what I was telling myself. Once backed out, I turned to look out the windshield and saw a guy my age, hobbling out of the pharmacy next to the hardware store. He was holding two bags, one in each hand. And I thought, he’s talking to himself! Yeah, it was an odd moment but it reminded me of how I experience social media. I have only been on Facebook, Instagram and Twitter for about a month. These are very chatty places. Alienated places as much or more than “community.”
And profane places and I don’t mean just the absolute disregard for language and using any and every profanity under the sun but I mean how people profane their own lives, the lives of their perceived enemies and their habituated following of celebrities who are profaning each other. No regard at all for their or other’s children stumbling upon their poisoned discourses. No boundaries. The social platforms designed to communicate are often maniacal arenas.
I invite you to take a break from the shoving matches and the violent language by stepping into worship. A sacred place where we are encouraged to speak in peace, live in peace and honor the Image of God in one another; we pray, sing and are called to higher ground. I am preaching this Sunday on A Meditation On All That Is Good. No hashtag needed. Just you with others who make a “We,“ called The Beloved Community. 11am at Westminster . ~See you Sunday
Weary of punk prosperity preachers selling Jesus like a bar of soap. Tired of White Nationalists in the White House protected and covered by White Republicans who control Congress. Weary of tweets like some kind of nuclear fallout, flakes of asbestos falling from the sky and ash covering everything. Tired of politicians who use the flag and patriotism to stoke xenophobia and racism. Tired of priests and bishops and cardinals defending “The Church” like they have a monopoly on the eucharist so stop criticizing us for pedophilia and cover-ups. Really? This makes Luther and the indulgences scam look mild by comparison. Weary of honkers honking at intersections like 7th & Maine—sit down, be humble. Stop honking. Try a little patience. Get through the crosswalk. Pretty tired of pints for 7 and 8 dollars and less than stellar meals with prices out of this world. Just sayin’. How do you have a conference with Chinese visiting scholars about urban identity and not ask them about churches their government knocks down, Muslims they imprison and Tibet they oppress? Hello, my identity is not the property of the State. Way tired of 45 and the Fake calling everyone else fake. 45, the truth will set you free but you have to go further than Pilate, who asked “what is truth?” and then crucified it. Stone cold stupified how John McCain is considered a loser by much of the Republican Party and the President. Heroism, like light, has a way of revealing cowardice and cowards. Weary of how White Christians tolerate and defend the extrajudicial killings of Black Americans. Its a stony road we trod. We are not the first to walk it. Grab some courage and resist.
Ready for relief and renewal and reparation and repair of the world. Ready for hope because we see beauty all around us and in the faces of one another. Ready for joy because the image of God radiated outward to me from the face of a child, the face of an elderly man I met walking on a bike path one morning this week, luminous in the million kindnesses extended to one another in our world though these acts of devotion will not be reported or televised. Ready to hear the Word of God in cascading streams of mercy and justice after being pelted by the stream of words gushing out of the internet, the television, radio and by persons talking on mobile phones loudly as they shop or sit on a bus or in a train car. Ready for the still, small voice of God. Ready for prayers and songs of praise and a proclamation that calls us to something greater than ourselves. I’m ready for that, aren’t you? ~See you Sunday