The big news story in this week's news cycle is that NBA franchise owner Donald Sterling said some really stupid, racist things. Once again, in this world of no privacy, people in position get caught out saying stupid things, and now likely he will have to sell his franchise to somebody more 'enlightened'. I suppose that this is a modern form of social darwinism at work...keep doing something stupid and eventually you will get caught, shamed, shunned, and vilified. A bit of me smiles that it's another rich and clueless guy who is getting brought down in the court of public opinion. Some people don't need their own Jerry Springer to have their stupidity exposed.
When things like this happen (and, I suppose, they happen to the point now of something we might expect on a regular basis, and how can you really be outraged when you know it is coming from somewhere, somehow, even if you don't know from, um, somewho), inevitably the lament of 'free speech is dead' comes from at least some corner, though I haven't really seen it yet in this case since what he said is morally indefensible. But what do they think 'free speech' is. To quote the first amendment, Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for aredress of grievances. In fact, there really is no free speech...it's just that the congress can't outlaw unpopular speech.
But the rest of us? Yeah, we get to slam on people who say terrible things. Here's the analogy I thought of today. Speech is like using a credit card: you can buy what you want now and it doesn't cost you a thing today, but tomorrow, if you aren't careful in how you can use it, you'll really end up in the hole.
Freedom in speech does not mean that there are no consequences, especially when it comes in a society in which we are increasingly interconnected. Somebody can say what they want when nobody is around, and rarely will it ever catch up with them. But in a civil society of 300 million people, in which you never really have it where nobody is around, that no longer happens. Too many phones and recorders are out there, taping everything that we do. Even a blog like this, something mostly anonymous (by design) where I get to ramble on about what interests me (and likely nobody else) at the moment, could eventually be traced back to me. I've said too many stupid things in my own life to ever be considered for public office, not to mention the stupid things I would say on a campaign trail (I have to think that I'd regularly be lampooned on the Daily Show). That's life, though. I'm willing to live with consequences for what I do and say...but I'd be better off just staying as anonymous as I can if I can't stay silent.
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
Friday, April 11, 2014
New roof, $15,300.
In our national church newspaper this week there is a request from a congregation in a far-off place for a new roof for their building. It's a congregation of "5-10 members" (what, at that point you aren't sure by a margin of 100%???) asking for $15,300 to replace the roof.
Stuff like this drives me nuts. Here we are, in a time in which money is scarce (or, at least, nobody wants to let go of what they have), and a near-death church thinks that the best use for other peoples' money is for them to build a roof for a church that probably will not exist in 5 years.
Now, maybe I'm wrong, and this is simply a church that is being launched and needs helping getting off the ground. There's about a 3% possibility that this is the case. But more than likely, this is a church of a few folks who have done no evangelism, no outreach, and are hunkering down in their little building, a survival mentality taken to the end. To their mind, their survival for a few more months or years will only come if they have a building (that which they think gives them respectability) when in fact with 5 or 10 people they could easily fit into the living roof of most houses and survive for just as long.
But here's the thing...is what this church is asking for any different than what we do with most end-of-life decisions? I have seen in several places (though, this being a blog that nobody reads, I'm not spending a half-hour tracking down the source) that approximately 1/3 to 1/2 of all health care costs are incurred in the last six months of life. What happens (and I've seen this firsthand many times) is that we hope to keep a patient alive for an extra month or two by pumping them full of drugs, by costly and time-consuming dialysis, by a half-dozen trips to the emergency rooms after yet another fall. In the end, of course, the patient dies. Death, in this life, wins in the end.
Something is wrong with how we look at death. For Christians, death should never be a fear. At this age of my life I'd like to think that when death is imminent, I'm ready for it and won't keep trying to hold on. Take me Lord, I'm ready to go. Some, of course, aren't likely as ready for death and want to hang on. But Christians should never have this mindset.
But with churches, are we willing to let go and let them die a natural death? Or do we have the same mindset we have with our bodies? Why don't we feel as if we can let go? Or at least 'transition' to a new place (e.g. meeting in a home, or collectively joining up with another congregation) much like a person can transition to hospice? Back when I was in seminary I preached at little congregations and one Sunday I was invited to a church in a small town. The building would have seated probably about 150, but there were four people that morning, two older couples there who were 'determined to keep the doors open' for as long as possible. So they kept up the church act with preachers coming each week to preach at them, so they could feel they were doing their worship. I found out that there was another healthy Church of Christ, but a black church, on the other side of town but they refused to join. To them keeping their little church alive was more important than accepting death or being in a healthy fellowship.
Nobody wants a church to die...it might seem as an act of failure. But as we come close to Easter next weekend, can we see that a seed must die so that something greater than live? I'm really tempted to write that little church and humbly suggest they fold. Maybe that's not my place...but maybe nobody has told them how foolish their plans are.
Stuff like this drives me nuts. Here we are, in a time in which money is scarce (or, at least, nobody wants to let go of what they have), and a near-death church thinks that the best use for other peoples' money is for them to build a roof for a church that probably will not exist in 5 years.
Now, maybe I'm wrong, and this is simply a church that is being launched and needs helping getting off the ground. There's about a 3% possibility that this is the case. But more than likely, this is a church of a few folks who have done no evangelism, no outreach, and are hunkering down in their little building, a survival mentality taken to the end. To their mind, their survival for a few more months or years will only come if they have a building (that which they think gives them respectability) when in fact with 5 or 10 people they could easily fit into the living roof of most houses and survive for just as long.
But here's the thing...is what this church is asking for any different than what we do with most end-of-life decisions? I have seen in several places (though, this being a blog that nobody reads, I'm not spending a half-hour tracking down the source) that approximately 1/3 to 1/2 of all health care costs are incurred in the last six months of life. What happens (and I've seen this firsthand many times) is that we hope to keep a patient alive for an extra month or two by pumping them full of drugs, by costly and time-consuming dialysis, by a half-dozen trips to the emergency rooms after yet another fall. In the end, of course, the patient dies. Death, in this life, wins in the end.
Something is wrong with how we look at death. For Christians, death should never be a fear. At this age of my life I'd like to think that when death is imminent, I'm ready for it and won't keep trying to hold on. Take me Lord, I'm ready to go. Some, of course, aren't likely as ready for death and want to hang on. But Christians should never have this mindset.
But with churches, are we willing to let go and let them die a natural death? Or do we have the same mindset we have with our bodies? Why don't we feel as if we can let go? Or at least 'transition' to a new place (e.g. meeting in a home, or collectively joining up with another congregation) much like a person can transition to hospice? Back when I was in seminary I preached at little congregations and one Sunday I was invited to a church in a small town. The building would have seated probably about 150, but there were four people that morning, two older couples there who were 'determined to keep the doors open' for as long as possible. So they kept up the church act with preachers coming each week to preach at them, so they could feel they were doing their worship. I found out that there was another healthy Church of Christ, but a black church, on the other side of town but they refused to join. To them keeping their little church alive was more important than accepting death or being in a healthy fellowship.
Nobody wants a church to die...it might seem as an act of failure. But as we come close to Easter next weekend, can we see that a seed must die so that something greater than live? I'm really tempted to write that little church and humbly suggest they fold. Maybe that's not my place...but maybe nobody has told them how foolish their plans are.
Tuesday, April 8, 2014
Who gets the last word?
I did a funeral yesterday for a man who had been in the Navy during the late 60s, but had eventually been honorably discharged and lived the rest of his life in general anonymity. Generally speaking all said he was a good Christian man, well loved by his family and friends.
Out at the gravesite I did the standard committal service...a few scriptures and a prayer. To the Lord we commit this man. In doing so we proclaim that for a Christian the cross has the last word, in that though we know his body is now dead, he will arise one day with Christ. At least, that's the way we Christians would have it to be.
As I finished my brief remarks, though, the navy honor guard did their standard routine that they do at the end of all funerals for honorably discharged veterans. There was no gun salute, but there was the playing of taps (from a thing that looks like a bugle but is actually just a loud boombox held up to a man's lips, kinda silly but oh well) and the folding of the flag, its presentation to the family, and the thanksgiving on the behalf of the nation to the widow.
The nation got the last word in, as they do in so many of these funerals. We ask them to attend funerals and have the last word, even trumping what the preacher may say.
It again makes me think of the symbolism by which we do things in our country. Whether it was the church down the street from where I lived in the days after 9/11 that put a big American flag on top of the cross that sat atop their building , or a right-wing pastor that speaks of God's Plan For America regularly in his sermons, or whether it is having the last word at a funeral by speaking of service to a nation (rather than his life as a Christian), we subtly (or not so subtly) proclaim that we believe in America First. Sure, you can talk about Jesus and his salvation at the funeral in the church and the hope you have at the gravesite, but it's America and its flag that has the final say.
Why, then, are we so surprised that many 'Christians' are more about their idea of America than they are the kingdom of God?
Out at the gravesite I did the standard committal service...a few scriptures and a prayer. To the Lord we commit this man. In doing so we proclaim that for a Christian the cross has the last word, in that though we know his body is now dead, he will arise one day with Christ. At least, that's the way we Christians would have it to be.
As I finished my brief remarks, though, the navy honor guard did their standard routine that they do at the end of all funerals for honorably discharged veterans. There was no gun salute, but there was the playing of taps (from a thing that looks like a bugle but is actually just a loud boombox held up to a man's lips, kinda silly but oh well) and the folding of the flag, its presentation to the family, and the thanksgiving on the behalf of the nation to the widow.
The nation got the last word in, as they do in so many of these funerals. We ask them to attend funerals and have the last word, even trumping what the preacher may say.
It again makes me think of the symbolism by which we do things in our country. Whether it was the church down the street from where I lived in the days after 9/11 that put a big American flag on top of the cross that sat atop their building , or a right-wing pastor that speaks of God's Plan For America regularly in his sermons, or whether it is having the last word at a funeral by speaking of service to a nation (rather than his life as a Christian), we subtly (or not so subtly) proclaim that we believe in America First. Sure, you can talk about Jesus and his salvation at the funeral in the church and the hope you have at the gravesite, but it's America and its flag that has the final say.
Why, then, are we so surprised that many 'Christians' are more about their idea of America than they are the kingdom of God?
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