Love Boldy, Freely, Queerly

 I participated this evening in a prayer vigil at First Presbyterian which was pulled together by various LGBTQ+ groups. I spoke on behalf of both PFLAG and the Mickee Faust Club. The PFLAG comments were a last minute extemporary explanation about who the group is, how it functions, and that it actually meets at First Pres in the Westminster Room. And then, I turned to talking about the meaning of the Mickee Faust Club:

The Mickee Faust Club is known for making people laugh. But it is very hard to find humor at a time when we are hurting, and your Faustkateers…like everyone…are in pain, shock and horror over this hate crime in Orlando. Spaces such as Pulse are the safe havens for those of us who have suffered threats of violence and physical and verbal attacks for being gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, or any other variation of non-conforming to the “norm” of society. It’s these spaces that allow us to be free and to breathe and relax and be at home. The Mickee Faust Club has been one of those comforting “queer places” for almost three decades in Tallahassee, and it is a center of activism for the gay community. So we have felt this attack on Pulse both at an individual and a corporate level.

But the spirit of our theater troupe is the same vibrant, creative, strong and amazing life force that exists within the larger LGBTQ+ community. We love. And because we love, we are able to laugh. And because we laugh, we can shed light into those dark corners of the world that are threatened and scared of our love. Forty-nine bright lights were violently snuffed out this past weekend. But the fire of our love will not be put out or put down. Or silenced with paper bags over our heads or shoved back into the closets so many of us finally escaped. Together with love we will take to the stage in Railroad Square and be Queer As Faust to the Ninth Power!!

Love may have suffered a blow to the heart this weekend, but we will pull together and we will overcome. Remember the dead with the defiance that has defined our movement from Stonewall to today. Love boldly, freely, and queerly. Faust is with you!

Thoughts on A Horrible Day

He didn't like seeing two men kissing in Miami, so he shot up a gay nightclub in Orlando full of young LGBTQ+ people, many of color.

That's the boiled down version of why the worst shooting massacre in United States history occurred early Sunday morning at last call at the Pulse nightclub in Orlando. At the end of the shooting spree, there were  fifty dead including the shooter, and at least that many or more injured and needing to go to the hospital.

It was a devastating story to encounter first thing in the morning on Facebook. And I have been crying on and off all day.

The Mickee Faust Club, one of those supposed "safe places" for queer people to gather, is in the process of pulling together our cabaret to celebrate Gay Pride month. But instead of doing our tech rehearsal, we joined with others at a local downtown lake to mourn and march and sing. Monday night's run through was also postponed so that we could gather at the state Capitol to rededicate ourselves to living in love without fear.

I have purposely stayed away from a lot of media today. I did hear that supposedly the shooter has a connection to the terrorist organization ISIS, and even though the FBI knew that, he was able to purchase an AR-15, the same weapon used in the Sandy Hook Elementary shooting in Connecticut and the San Bernadino Office Party shooting last Christmas.

This led me to post the following status on Facebook:

A shooting at a Luby's in Texas? Nothing. A shooting at a McDonald's in Southern California? Nothing. A shooting at a high school in Colorado? Nothing. A shooting at a public event with a Congresswoman in Arizona? Nothing. A shooting in a movie theater in Colorado (and Louisiana)? Nothing.A shooting at an elementary school in Connecticut? Nothing. A shooting at a university in Virginia? Nothing. A shooting at the DC Navy Yard? Nothing. A shooting at Fort Hood in Texas? Nothing. A shooting at a military recruitment center in Tennessee? Nothing. A shooting at a Bible Study in South Carolina? Nothing. Regular shootings daily in Chicago? Nothing. A shooting at a gay nightclub in Orlando? _________. Do NOT tell me this isn't a public health problem! And do not come here to tell me why you love your guns. Seriously, not today!

Of course, some people want to argue with me that this isn't about the guns; it's about the people. But I'm sorry. If there is one thing I have come to learn in 48 years of living on this planet, it's that the human heart has both the impulse for good and the impulse for evil. It lives in each of us, whether we profess a belief in God or not. If you feed the heart with Love and beauty and seek what is life-affirming, then the goodness will grow. However, if you take a regular bath in hatred and anger and greed, then you are feeding the evil part of yourself at the detriment to the good. Give that person a gun and....

This is why I really didn't want to hear what Florida Republican Senator, and a vocal opponent of the gay community, Marco Rubio had to say, or watch him shake his head in disbelief. I didn't seek out Governor Rick Scott who treats us like pesky flies, or the truly repugnant Republican AG Pam Bondi who actively fought our right to marry, and still cannot understand that blocking marriage equality was UNconstitutional. While I don't pray for the death of any of these folks, I do acknowledge that they are my enemies, just like the shooter in Orlando was my enemy. And their words and actions have helped to foster and grow an intolerance and nonacceptance of us that fuels idiotic bathroom debates, and mass shootings at gay nightclubs.

I do hope that maybe this time this will lead to really introducing a bill in Congress to get this mass shooting public health problem solved. The medicine is within our reach. We just need our elected leadership to stop looking over their shoulder at what the National Rifle Association may or may not do to them. A tall order, but I expect and demand bravery.

Seeing God in the Other: a sermon at United Church Tallahassee

Scripture used:

1 Kings 8:22-23; 41-43;  Psalm 96 1-9; Luke 7:1-10

This past week, I had the opportunity to attend the Naturalization Ceremony at the United States Federal Courthouse. I was there to show support for my friend, Beatrice, who after living in the country for thirty years was finally becoming a citizen. She didn’t want anyone to come and, of course, my wife and I, being her friends, heard this request…and ignored it. This was a big deal…and we were going to be there whether she wanted us to or not! That’s what friends are for, right?

Not only was this a big deal, it was a HUGE deal. Seventy-one people….from France, England, Spain, Colombia, Mexico, Nigeria, Vietnam, Palestine, Iraq, China…and so many other countries were taking an oath and pledging their allegiance to the United States of America. They were smiling (how many people are happy to be in a federal court room?) Family members and friends were snapping photos. Each of the petitioners was given a short moment to express the meaning of this day to them. Over and over we heard “thank you!” “What a privilege!” “I am so happy to become an American!” As a native of this country, I was in awe to witness this joy, and to hear people with various lilts and accents speaking with pride about becoming one with me as a citizen of this nation.

I don’t often think about what it means to be an American, let alone think about citizenship as a privilege or something that makes me feel grateful and happy. More often than not, I see America’s flaws and where we have failed to be a great nation that takes care of its poor, its hopeless, and its lost and lonely people.  I sat next to a woman wearing a hijab. She was there because her husband was becoming a citizen. She pledged allegiance to the flag. She recited the oath of citizenship along with everyone else.  And, as we stood and listened to a man with a magnificent baritone voice belt out the national anthem, I felt myself overcome with the emotion of this moment. We were welcoming the foreigners into our land of the free and home of the brave.

Welcoming, and including foreigners is a central tenet of our Judeo-Christian tradition. We hear that clearly in the reading we had from First Kings. Solomon has just finished building the Temple and in his prayer of dedication he calls on God to hear the prayers of the foreigner “who is not of your people Israel” when they come to this house and call upon God.  Jewish law required them to show hospitality to the strangers in their midst, and Solomon went so far as to intercede to the God of Israel to pay attention to the foreigners and give heed to their pleas in the same way that God would hear the prayer of an Israelite. In this way, the foreigner might come to know the God of Israel and become part of the crowd.  The ceremony on Tuesday reflected that same generosity of spirit toward these newest citizens. Besides all the documentation that they now possess that proves their citizenship (and their desk-sized American flags) the presiding judge and speakers could not emphasize enough that the most important right of citizenship was to register to vote. And don’t you know that our Supervisor of Elections had three members of his staff on hand ready to help sign them up! Many of the petitioners mentioned how excited they were at this opportunity to vote in the upcoming election. And those of us in the room contemplating the current political state of affairs in the country likely all had the same collective thought of, “Oh, I bet you are happy to vote!”

Which brings me to the Gospel lesson we heard this morning from Luke about the Roman centurion seeking help from the Jewish Jesus. Remember that in this time, Rome was an occupying force and the Jews felt under the thumb and oppressed by the presence of the Roman soldiers. This centurion, however, was viewed a little differently. He had been kind to the Jews and had even built their synagogue. He petitions Jesus to please heal his sick servant. When Jesus comes, the centurion, aware that Jewish law forbids Jesus from entering the house of a Gentile, urges Jesus not to come under his roof.  Just say the word…he pleads…and heal my servant. And I can almost picture this moment: Jesus…stunned by what this Gentile Army General has said and just how deeply this man “gets it”…turns around to the people following Jesus and says…to take some liberties with text…,“Whoa! Now THIS is what faith looks like!”

I go back to that Naturalization Ceremony and all those people who desired to become part of our country and take part in our right to vote. Even my friend made her first act as a citizen registering to vote so she could have a say in the governance of this state and the nation.  Think about that for a moment. People…who have had to jump through hoops and drive to Jacksonville and Miami and swear an allegiance to the United States…are relishing this opportunity to vote. They believe and have faith in this as a democratic society where voting does matter and does make a difference. And then consider the conversation---if you can even call it that—that seems to be happening on social media sites such as Facebook. I don’t know what you’re seeing and reading from your friends, but on my timeline it seems everything about the system is rigged and the will of the people is being thwarted. Democracy is a sham.

I don’t believe that. Democracy is messy. Democracy means that I win sometimes and I lose sometimes. If there is anyone who has cause to feel that the system is rigged, it’s those for whom guarantees of access through the Voting Rights Act are being threatened. And, despite the undue influence of money in our political system, I still have faith that my vote…and the votes of real people and not corporations…matters.

Now…before you think this is only a sermon on voting...let me bring this back to the matter of faith and the foreigner. Because just like the messiness that is our Democracy…this idea of who is a beloved child of God is also not so clean cut. It would be so much easier and convenient if we could say that if you look like me, talk like me, and worship in the same church as me…then you’re “of God” and everybody else…is not. But that certainly isn’t what Solomon was saying in his prayer of dedication of a temple he built to the glory of God. And it isn’t the lesson we’re getting from Jesus this morning about the one who is outside of his own flock of followers, and yet had more faith in Jesus’ healing powers than what the Son of God had found in all of Israel. Perhaps what we’re called to hear in all of this is that God’s grace is abundant, God’s mercy is everlasting, and God’s faithfulness can be found in those who are “the others” in our society. It could be that God is calling us to see in those who are not just like us the hope and the joy of what it means to be citizens not only of a country on earth but a country on earth as it is in heaven. Embrace the faith. Be kind to one another. And let us all say, “Amen.”

Outrage in the Land of the Free

We've been praying a collect that talks of the reconciling love of Christ, and yet I have felt very little love for my neighbors in Mississippi or North Carolina. Or the Florida Governor's Mansion. Or even for some of my friends on Facebook during this political season. This has been a week of outrage and outrageousness.

Again, the LGBTQ+ community finds itself under attack by state legislators who suffer from "Trans panic" about who is going into which public restroom, and whether a hospital should be compelled to provide care to someone who is a member of the LGBTQ+ population. I realize it's more ridiculous to talk about denying a wedding cake to a gay or lesbian couple, but the more truly horrid part of the new Mississippi law is that a hospital surgeon could decide she doesn't want to treat a person because their orientation or gender identity or expression offends her religious beliefs. Our Governor walked into a Starbucks in Gainesville, a university city with a more liberal-leaning than its neighboring towns, and found himself face-to-face with a woman who had had enough of his anti-woman, anti-poor policies. Rather than sticking around to get his soy no water chai latte (I have it on good authority that this is his preferred drink order at Starbucks), the Governor walked off...and then had his PAC cut an ad lambasting this female citizen critic. And let's not even get started on the many flare-ups between friends on Facebook over Bernie Sanders and Hillary Clinton and which one is "qualified" to be President. Lord, make haste to help us!

In fact, God is providing for me a few hints in this Sunday's lectionary that, as always, Love is aware and pointing toward the possibility and rewards of reconciliation. 

We hear the story from the Acts of the Apostles about the conversion of Saul (who will miraculously become Paul midway through that book). This is one of my favorites from Acts because it speaks so well to the tension of division and God's power to take two bitter enemies and convert their hearts to the oneness of being in relationship with the One and each other. Here's Paul, on his way to Damascus and all fired-up because he's going to get more of these followers of "The Way," stopped in his tracks and faced with the resurrected Christ saying, "Why, Saul? Why are you doing this to me?" He is blinded, led into Damascus to the home of a follower of "The Way" named Ananais, who is just a tad bit worried about having this hater in his home town. God assures Ananais that this will all be OK if he will please lay his hands on Saul and pray. Reluctantly, he does it, and Saul's eyes are opened...not only in the physical sense that he is no longer blind, but also the eyes of his heart are opened to a conversion to Christ as messiah. And a tremendous and important advocate for Christianity is born. And Ananais is, well, in awe. Thanks be to God! Now, let's hear that Gospel story again about fishing off the other side of the boat, and the discussion with Peter out on the beach. 

Peter, feeling a little sheepish (yes, pun intended), is having an important one-on-one discussion with Jesus at the end of John's Gospel. It sounds a little like the song from "Fiddler on the Roof": "Do you love me?" "Do I what?!"  Peter needs this moment with Jesus to undo the three times of denying knowing him before the crucifixion. Jesus needs this moment with Peter to convey the forgiveness of this wrong, and place a heavy burden upon Peter to now, for real, "follow me." And, once more, God has interjected God's self into strengthening the faith and the bond to open Peter's heart to become a tremendous and important advocate for the future of the Christian church. Peter and Paul had dual and important missions serving different pockets of people in the spreading of the Good News. And both were key figures in the story that would lead to a religion that would be subsumed at different times by the power structures of the day. Not always to the glory of God, but that's not the fault of either Peter or Paul. Their mission was to bring the transformative power of Love to the people. And, ultimately amidst all the hubbub and nastiness of the day, that's our job, too.

It is tremendously hard to keep that focus, at least it is for me, and I fall short of it often. But it is the point to which I must return if I am to remain able to be the light I wish to see in the world. And we need a whole lot more light because, as we've seen in the past week alone, the streets are still filled with too much darkness and there are those who keep attempting to shoot out the street lights to make it even darker. This is not some Pollyanna baloney I'm putting out there. This is my entreaty to those of us who call ourselves "Christian" to remember that when we fail to act out of our place of Love, we need to stop, think and return to that place because that IS our true power. As I so often pray, "Glory to God whose power working in us can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine. Glory to God from generation to generation in the church and in Christ Jesus. Amen." These are not just words; this prayer is the intent of my heart. In the face of opposition, and meanness, and rancor, we have the power to combine with others who are tapped into the Light to overcome the darkness of the world. Believe in it. Live into it.  

Maybe We Need to Do Things Differently

"The Miraculous Draught of Fish"by Rubens

The days of Easter Week are kind of like the old Ginsu knife commercials where with each subsequent amazing feature of this kitchen cutting implement, the announcer would say, "But wait: there's more!" Since the most amazing and miraculous event of the Resurrection last Sunday, we've been treated daily to more wonderful testimonies of Jesus appearing to the disciples, being known to them in the breaking of the bread, etc. At the 12:10 service this Friday, the scene was the moment when Peter and some of the disciples take off in a boat to go fishing, since this is what they know how to do. They keep trying to catch fish, but they're not successful. Jesus in the meantime has been watching them from the shore, and when they come in, empty-handed, he tells them to cast the net off the right side of the boat. So, off they go, and they give the right-side a try. And--holy mackerel, salmon, and tuna--they haul in 153 huge fish!

Our celebrant was most interested in the charcoal fire on the beach...which he noted the only other time there was a charcoal fire mentioned was when Peter denied Jesus, something that would be undone in the verses to follow in the 21st chapter of  John's Gospel. But I was more interested by a couple of other parts of today's Gospel. First, it hadn't struck me until today that the breakfast Jesus serves up on the beach is bread and fish, which for me recalls the miraculous feeding of the five thousand and is one of the few stories of Jesus which exists in all four Gospels. This breakfast is only going to feed a dozen, not thousands, and yet it is significant that the same food which fed all and all were satisfied is brought out again to feed those who will be charged with "feed my sheep."

Even more interesting is the idea of the 153 fish. I've looked, and I can't find anything that would be a clue about this number, but I am taking it as a sign of the diversity of sea life that found its way into their net and even with all of them squirming and their collected weight, the net didn't break. Cool, right? "But wait: there's more!"

I have to wonder if the significance of this catch could hold a lesson for us, the Church, today? I am curious about the idea that the apostles weren't able to fulfill their mission to "fish for people" until they dropped their net off the other side of the boat. As I consider this, it makes me think that for the church to grow, we need to be willing to cast our net into the waters that are not the usual ones. There are a lot of "fish" out there...just as there are a lot of "sheep" who need feeding and tending. But if we keep going to the same places, and using the same methods of attracting people, then we are missing an opportunity to reach those who are still swimming about in the great big sea called "the world." And the people we may encounter may not be "the usual suspects," which, in the case of Episcopalians, would be upper middle-class white people. Our population could stand to look a little more diverse and come from more walks of life.

Naturally, this requires people to step outside of their usual patterns and gathering places in order to meet those who are not just like us. That's risky, and nobody really likes to do what is risky. Face-to-face, person-to-person contact is always the best. And I sometimes wonder if it doesn't help to share freely and fully some of the good things happening at a particular church through this medium called "social networking." It may not seem as effective as the incarnated encounter with a happy Episcopalian. And yet, more and more people are dependent on their FB and other social networks to know what's happening in the world. A well-organized and planned strategy for sharing posts will raise a church's visibility. And once people find the church, a congregation trained in showing hospitality to a stranger is the net to encourage that visitor to become a more frequent participant. And once someone feels included, their willingness to take part in the life of the church takes off. And now--you have a net teeming with fish!

Are we ready for that?

Easter Reflection 2016

Alleluia! Christ is Risen!

The Lord is Risen, indeed! Alleluia!

From the time that I was a young child, I can remember that my mom loved to announce the rising at Christ at Easter. Even during the years when I could have cared less what was happening in the church on Easter morning, my mother would be on the other end of the phone, gleefully and joyfully proclaiming, "He is risen!" Clearly, Easter was a favorite holiday for her, and spoke to her in a meaningful way. It only seemed appropriate, then, that the recessional hymn at her funeral at Christ Church in Exeter would have to be "Jesus Christ is risen today."  And what a good, and right, and joyful thing it was that the assembled congregation belted out that hymn with full gusto. A real tribute to my mom's delight in the resurrection...both in her earthly life and what I imagine is her life with the Communion of Saints.

Singing of the risen Christ in full-throated voice is precisely what one should do today if one believes in this incredible and crazy story. Nothing can be more amazing then the thought that not even death could trample down Love. No tomb can keep it contained. No locks can keep it hidden away. Absolutely nothing stops the power and beauty and radiance of Love. 

It would be easy to simply keep this resurrection tale on the pages of the Gospel and say, "Well that all happened then." But I believe the reason my mom used to call me every Easter to remind me that Christ is risen is because that tale isn't just one for the books of the Bible; it is a truth that speaks to us today, and is needed in our lives today. Not a physical raising from the dead; but the metaphorical coming to life that must happen in our lives if we are to keep on going in a world that desperately needs people to be alive with Love in their hearts and singing songs of joy on their lips. As our country's political landscape grows more hostile and divided, now...more than ever...do we need people to tap into that root of Jesus' message: we are to love one another as God has loved us.

If Jesus Christ is to rise, we must also rise with him and in him to be the force of Love and change this world needs. Alleluia!

The Core of This Night is Love

Maundy Thursday marks the beginning of what is essentially one long, three-day worship service that will culminate in the celebration of the resurrection at Easter. And as I’ve told many people, “You can’t have Easter without Good Friday…” Well…you don’t experience Good Friday without first preparing with Maundy Thursday. Tonight, we will participate in three rituals, each which carry a particular meaning and each which offers an opportunity to enter more closely into this most holy, vulnerable, and ultimately, triumphant time for Jesus and for us.

In a few moments, we will re-enact Jesus getting up from the dinner with the disciples, and washing the feet of Peter. This is another time in which Jesus turns convention upside down. In the First Century Palestinian culture of his day, it was the job of a slave to wash a person’s feet as a way of showing hospitality. But Jesus wants to teach his disciples a new way—one in which the person who is a person of privilege and power—removes the outer garment, takes up a towel, and washes the feet of the lowly servant. 

Jesus is baptizing them into the ministry to carry on his mission of a new commandment: “To love one another as I have loved you.” We, too, through taking part in this ritual are also being invited to remember that we are capable of loving one another because God so completely and deeply loved us. It is because of this love that we can carry out the many ministries of this church…from the school…to the Saturday Lunch program and Clothes Closet…and Oak Street Mission…Halcyon Home…A.A. meetings…Kairos…the list goes on and on. And those are just the ministries springing forth from St. Thomas, and don’t account for how any one of us is working every day to live into the words of our Baptismal Covenant: to strive for justice and peace among all people and respect the dignity of every human being. Without love as our starting point for these actions, we won’t be able to succeed.

This brings me to our second ritual of tonight, the celebration of the Holy Eucharist. Sunday after Sunday, we come together, shoulder-to-shoulder around the Lord’s Table to receive the Body and Blood of Christ. John’s Gospel places the institution of the words of the last supper elsewhere in his narrative, but the other evangelists make Jesus’ declaration of the bread and the wine as symbolic of his body and blood part of the events immediately preceding his arrest and execution. Again, the disciples must have wondered what crazy thing Jesus was doing declaring bread and wine his body and blood as the blessing over these elements…breaking and distributing in the same way that he did with the feeding of the five thousand. Puzzled as they might have been they all participated in this ritual of the New Covenant…even Judas Iscariot who would betray him and Peter who would deny him and all the others who scattered at his arrest. Flawed, bewildered, and sinful, they were all bound to one another by him, and with him, and in him, through eating and drinking this common bread and single cup. 

And here we are, two thousand-plus years later, equally flawed characters, and striving to follow God, also receiving Christ’s body and blood into our own bodies. This bread and this wine becomes the fuel that feeds our ability to love the world…even when the world may not seem to want to love us back.  That’s our mission…and we do it no matter what…because God loved us first…with no exceptions or conditions… so that we could pass that love on to others.  And God expressed that love through his Son…who said “Take. Eat” and “Drink this all of you.” “Do this in remembrance of me.”  Jesus is saying: “Every time you receive this communion, this common meal, remember: this was a sacrifice so that you could be liberated through me to love one another as I have loved you.”

Which leads me to our third and final ritual tonight: the stripping of the altar: the final act carried out by our altar guild. Everyone on the team knows their role. They know how to reverently and carefully remove, fold, and put away all of the linens and cushions and brass, leaving behind…an empty table. The first time I was here at St. Thomas, I was struck more by this ritual than I’d ever been before because it was done with all of us staring in silence during the symbolic action of stripping away all signs of God…in the same way Jesus was stripped down to his naked self to be killed. The ripping sounds of the Velcro on altar hangings were a chilling reminder of the brutality Jesus faced from his persecutors and the Roman authorities. If it was difficult for me as an observer to watch, I wonder what it must be for the altar guild as they do that tearing and taking away.

This empty, bare table is the image we’ll be left with for this evening, and it is an unsettling and disturbing one. It raises the idea that to face death…in hopes of the resurrection…all manner of “things” must be stripped away. That’s certainly true of physical death. You can’t pack a bag of your favorite things and take it with you to the Communion of Saints. It is also true of the small deaths we face every day. The loss of a job, for example, not only means the loss of income and maybe health insurance; for many, it can mean the loss of a huge part of their identity. How many of us make small talk with strangers about what we “do” for a living as a way of saying, “This is who I am.” We become the work that we do, and find our self-worth caught up in titles, and various degrees, that when the day comes when we are no longer “doing our job,” we are at a loss about how to “be our selves” without title to set us apart.   How do our various labels and identities…and the meanings layered upon them…actually interfere with us fulfilling our mission to truly love ourselves and love one another as God has loved us?  What beliefs are we clinging to about ourselves that might be hindering us from entering fully into relationship with God and blocking us from loving people in this fear-filled world?

Whatever impedes us from getting down to that single truth—that we are beloved children of God here to love and be loved—tonight is the time of reckoning and to strip those things away.