The Messiness of Being Human: A Pentecost Sermon in Response to Hatred

Timothy B. Tutt

Pastor, United Christian Church

Austin, Texas

Sunday, May 27, 2012  

8:30, 9:30 and 10:45 AM Worship

Pentecost Sunday

 (Lectionary Year B)

"The Messiness of Being Human:

A Pentecost Sermon In Response to Hatred" 

Acts 2:1-21 and Romans 8:22-27

My sermon title in the bulletin is “Years of Wonder, Days of Spirit.”   And that is a very fine sermon.  But I am not going to preach that sermon this morning.  That sermon is about Pentecost in the first century and Pentecostalism today.  There’s a little bit in that sermon about Albert Einstein and some about Moses.  I will leave copies of that sermon here on the pulpit.  Feel free to take a copy home today.

            Instead, I would like to speak to you, for a moment or two, about a situation that has been bothering me the past two week.  I’ve had this nagging issue in my mind.

Two weeks ago the President of the United States expressed his personal support for gay marriage.  Those were historic words from our nation’s chief executive officer.  People responded in a number of ways to his comments.  Some cheered, some questioned, some said, “About time.”

In the middle of those responses, a pastor in North Carolina preached a sermon offering his views on gay marriage.  The pastor’s name is Charles Worley, and his congregation is in Maiden, N.C.  (MSNBC.com, May 22, 2012)

Now let me say a few general things about his comments, before I address his sermon specifically.

First, I support, and have the privilege of, a free pulpit.  No one in this congregation has ever told me what to preach or what to say.  Sometimes you disagree with me and argue with me, and that is okay.  That is a hallmark of Protestant Christianity, ministers being free to speak on issues as the Spirit leads them, and church members being free to use their minds to think. 

I also treasure the corollary of a free pulpit, the freedom of speech that our Constitution guarantees people in this country.  As we celebrate Memorial Day tomorrow and honor this nation, the freedom of speech stands first among the things I cherish.

And, I also strongly support the separation of church and state.   I think keeping state and church separate allows both to better fulfil their purposes.  And part of the separation of church and state is the freedom the church has to criticize the state.  I think, as Christians, we have a duty, a responsibility, to speak out when we feel the state is wrong, is unjust.

On the issue of marriage, I also understand that there are some people who hold very strongly to traditional views of marriage.  And by traditional, I mean the Western views that we have held for about the past four hundred years, based on romance, love, mutual respect, and maintenance of the nuclear family.

So, this preacher in North Carolina, Reverend Worley, has the freedom to preach as he feels led, he has the freedom to speak as he feels called, he has the freedom to critique our government as he sees fit, and he has the freedom to support marriage as he defines it.

But his words went far beyond freedom and tradition.

You may have seen his sermon on the news or on YouTube. 

Two Sunday ago, Mr. Worley said in his sermon that he opposes gay marriage.  From his pulpit he called the president some very childish names.  He also stated for whom he would vote and implicitly instructed his congregation to do the same.

And then he went on to say that we should round up all of the gay and lesbian people in this country. He said we should put them in a pen of some sort with an electric fence around it.  To show how kind he is, he said we should fly airplanes over and drop food from time to time.  And he said that because they won’t reproduce, we should just wait for them to die off. 

This man is proposing a Holocaust, concentration camps.

I have been to Auschwitz.   

I have seen the barbed wire and the bricks and the ovens. 

I have seen humankind’s inhumanity to others. 

I understand the Apostle Paul’s words about groaning for the world.  (Romans 8:22)

I have been to Eastern Europe where the walls of communism kept others in bondage. 

I have been to a Navajo reservation where Japanese Americans were jailed by our government, trapped on grounds of suspicion. 

I have crossed the Trail of Tears where Native Americans, where my children’s great-grandparents, were rounded up, forced to leave their homes by an oppressive government.  

I have stood on plantations where one race, my race, my great-grandparents, enslaved another race and forced them to do their bidding, or die.

Those acts were wrong.

Often, the Christian church supported those acts.  That was wrong.

Friends, we must stop the hatred, the language of violence. 

Christianity is a faith of grace and love, not a system of hatred and intolerance. 

We must not allow our faith to be used to build prisons of intolerance, whether they are actual prisons of fence and of stone or whether they are prisons of the mind and of the spirit.

Pentecost is sometimes called the birthday of the church.  It is time for the church to be born again, not born of ideology and segregation, but born again of integration and peace.

Pentecost is a freedom.   The Jazz Ensemble played “Freedom Jazz Dance” as the prelude.  Very appropriate. 

Pentecost is the story of the free spirit, the free mind, the free soul.  It is a story of God’s unbounded love for diverse humanity. 

Pentecost is also a story of fear.  The scripture says that God’s spirit came upon these early Christians in a new and powerful way.  They ran out into the street.  And the people who met them, who heard them, were afraid.  They made fun.  They called them names.  They thought they were drunk.  You read the scripture (Acts 2).  They were afraid of them.   They were afraid of new ways of speaking, new ways of living, new ways of loving. 

We live in a time of fear. 

As horrible as Reverend Worley’s words were two weeks ago, I understand something of why he said them.  He is afraid.  He is afraid of a changing world. 

And our world is changing rapidly.  Issues of marriage, issues of economics, issues of technology, are all changing.  We live at time of great change.  History shows that about every 500 years, the world undergoes dramatic upheaval.  The birth of Jesus and the Pentecost explosion (0), the Constantinian domination (c. 500), the Great Schism (1054), the Reformation and the printing press (1500s.)  (Phyllis Tickle, The Great Emergence)   

It’s hard to live in a time of change.  How we communicate is new, where we live is new, how we relate to each other is new, even the hymns we sing may be new.  And people are afraid.

Over and over again, our Bible sings out to us, “Do not be afraid!  Do not fear!”  When those early Christians gathered in that upper room, they must have been terrified also.   It wasn’t just the people outside.   It was the people inside, as well.  They were afraid.  Jesus, their lord and leader and teacher, was gone from their midst.  They were all alone.   So they hid in a room. 

And in an experience that defies our understanding, the Spirit of God showed up.   It wasn’t enough for a prophet to speak or a writer to pen the words, “Do not be afraid.”  This time, God spoke in a new and powerful way. 

Did the wind really blow?  I don’t know.  Did fire really sit on their heads?  I have no idea. 

But something happened.  Some moment of great connection with God occurred that caused them to cast off their old ways, to cast off their fears and to live and speak in new ways.

I don’t know that I have the words to speak to and for our world.  I lean on Paul’s words that the Spirit will speak for us.  (Romans 8:26)

I pray, I pray fervently and deeply, that the Spirit of God will move in the heart and mind of this Mr. Worley, that he will see the new work of the Spirit, and that he will not be afraid.  At a minimum, I pray that he will renounce the words of violence and the images of Holocaust and hatred that he used.  I pray that he will be freed from his narrow-mindedness and be opened to the love of all God’s children.

And I pray for myself.  I pray that I will be freed from my own narrow-mindedness.  I pray that I will be open to the love of all of God’s children.

After all, God’s children are a fascinating, wonderful mix of critters.   You are, just you the people in the room, are different and unique and wonderful and weird.  And in the Pentecost story, the Spirit meets us “where we are: in the midst of a multitude of languages and experiences” and weirdness.   

Theologian Eric Barreto has pointed out that, “The Spirit translates the Gospel instantly into myriad languages….Imagine then the miracle of Pentecost and what it means for us today.  God meets us in the messiness of different languages and does not ask us to speak God's language.  Instead, God chooses to speak our many languages. God does not speak in a divine language beyond our comprehension.  At Pentecost, God speaks in Aramaic and Greek and other ancient languages. Today, God continues to speak in Spanish, Greek, Hindi and Chinese alike.  At Pentecost, God makes God’s choice clear.  God joins us in the midst of the messiness and the difficulties of [the human experience], speaking different languages, eating different foods and living in different cultures. That is good news indeed.”  (Huffington Post, May 21, 2012)

Freeing, liberating, life-giving Good News that transcends our fears and opens the prisons of our minds.

It is easy to take the same kind of hatred that Reverend Worley used in North Carolina and turn it back on him.   It is easy to call him names and belittle him, as he has done for others.  It will be harder for me to pray for him.  But I will try.   And in a moment, out Jazz Ensemble will remind us of that when they play, “Speak No Evil.”  So I will try.  And I invite you to join me in praying for him as well. He is part of the messiness of the human experience.  God speaks his language too.

And I’m going to do one other thing as well.  I’m going to write a check for our United Mission Offering.  And I’m going to give it our church to give away.  On the memo line, I’ve noted that this gift is in honor of Charles Worley.  I didn’t want to write that phrase, but I did it.  However much I disagree with him, I feel compelled to honor him as my brother in Christ, my sibling in this messy human family.

Now, there may be a little “dig” in there, maybe I’m not as pure as I should be, because, you see, part of this money will go to support the Justice and Witness ministries that seek to include all people in the church. 

Part of this money goes to support new churches like Hope United in Georgetown that is an Open and Affirming church that is working to be a welcoming presence in Williamson County. 

Part of this money goes to support the reconciliation ministries that bridges divides and brings people together.

I don’t know that Rev. Worley will appreciate the way this money is used.  But I’ll tell him about it in the letter I will send him.  And rather than lambast him, I hope this is a way, one small way, to promote the unity of Spirit that we find in the Pentecost story.  So I invite you to join me in this giving. 

I invite you to join me in praying for those with whom you disagree.

I invite you to join me in dedicate our lives, once again, to living as people of the Spirit.

Prayer

God, this Pentecost living is messy business.

We, your people are complicated, difficult people. 

Warm our hearts once again and open our minds to your ways.

I pray for Charles Worley. 

I’m sorry for the fear in which he lives and the ways he expresses that fear.

I pray for myself, O God, for the ways that I am afraid and the words I have used to harm.

I pray for those who are left out of the church, those who feel belittled and forgotten.

I pray for our United Mission Offering, for the ways that our gifts can help and heal. 

Visit us all with a sense of your renewing Spirit,

that we may all be instruments of grace and peace, in Jesus’ name.  Amen.

Right-Sized in the Universe?

Copernicus and others taught us that we're not the center of the universe.  Our home is just one of many homes swirling in the inky, spangled cosmos.  We're not even the center of our galaxy.  That's a milky collection of gassy chunks, where our sun is just one neighbor in the Local Fluff.  And we're not even the center of our solar system.  The sun is.  That's why it's called a solar system, not an earth system.

But at least we can still be the center of the earth, right?  With chest-thumping hymns of national exceptionalism or mind-numbing thoughts of personal egotism, we can put ourselves where we belong: on the pedestal of me-first-ism.

Then this comes along...

• Sunday I was reminded that there are more members of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) in Congo than there are in North America.   Interesting since the CC(DOC) claims to be the first denomination born in the United States.

• And I heard on NPR this morning that car-making icon General Motors sells more cars in China than it does in the United States.

So, where do we fit?  Does all that make you feel small? Or right-sized?  I wonder...

I'd like to hear from you.

Apologies, Apologies Everywhere

Apologies abound lately. Well, sort of. And as they abound, they sometimes confound.

I heard a college basketball player this morning describe an on-court dust-up with another player. The player apologized "if" the other player "took it the wrong way." A conditional apology isn't really an apology, is it?

Last week, New Orleans Saints coach Sean Payton apologized for his role in the "bounty" scandal where his players paid their teammates for injuring opposing teams. Payton said, "I am sorry for what has happened." Kind of makes you wonder, was he sorry for the bounty, or just sorry he got caught?

A few weeks before, President Obama apologized to the president of Afghanistan for Korans that were burned on a U.S. military base. Former Senator Rick Santorum snipped that Mr. Obama's apology showed "weakness." Newt Gingrich went further, saying that president "surrendered" by apologizing.

NPR apologized for a broadcast of "This American Life" that falsely described working conditions at an Apple factory in China. Then they spent an hour retracting and dissecting the false episode.

But the best apology of all in the news lately, belongs to Harold Camping. Camping is the radio preacher who said the world was going to end in May of last year. When it didn't, he changed the end-date to October. That date came and went.

Then, earlier this month, Camping broke his awkward silence to apologize. "We humbly acknowledge we were wrong," he wrote. The mistake was a "painful lesson," Camping said. Then he went on to call his own ideas "incorrect and sinful." Lest anyone still not understand, Camping threw in a few more "humbles" and spoke of himself "trembling before God."

Wow! Now that's an apology. The prediction business didn't turn out so well for Mr. Camping. Maybe he could go into the apology-writing business. Lots of work to be had there.

The Bible and Beards, Pigs and Presidents

Presidential wannabe Rick Santorum declared last week that President Obama’s ideas are not based on the Bible. Let’s assume that Mr. Santorum is elected president and goes about establishing a government based on the Bible.

First of all, beginning on Inauguration Day, the new President Santorum will stop shaving. And I guess he will force all men to stop shaving as well. (It’s in the Bible.) Will the FBI enforce beard lengths or will that be left up to the states?

And I feel sorry for the person that Mr. Santorum appoints to be Secretary of Agriculture. The USDA is likely to have a tough time with the National Pork Producers Association after the new administration bans pork chops, bacon, and sausage. (No pork. It’s in the Bible.) Wonder how that will affect business at the IHOP?

And that sheriff out in Arizona, the Republican who supported Romney, then announced he was gay and said he was having an affair with an immigrant whose visa was expired? Tough call there. After all, the Bible says over and over that you should love the stranger in your land and treat him well. (Leviticus 19:34 and other places). The sheriff certainly loved—or really, really liked -- at least one stranger. But I guess President Santorum may have to kill the sheriff anyway. That’s in the Bible, too. (Leviticus 20:13. Ouch!)

Yes, it will be tough for Mr. Santorum to put into place a government based on the Bible. But there’s good news as well.

We won’t go to war since the Bible says, “Do not kill,” “Love your enemies,” and “Turn the other cheek.” (Yep, they’re all there. Pretty clear.)

And even though Mr. Santorum wants to shrink federal government, I’m sure his new Bible-based rule will allow for a new Department of Forgiveness. After all, that’s a big part of biblical theology. (Who do you think he will appoint to be Assistant Secretary for the Confession of Sins? Newt Gingrich? Bill Clinton? A lot of us could go to work in that bureau.)

One final hope: Maybe this new Bible-based government will help the economy. After all, I’m guessing that millionaires like Mr. Santorum and Mr. Obama and gazillionaires like Mr. Romney will “sell all that they have and give the money to the poor.” (It’s in the Bible.)

Prop 8 Goes to Church

In 2008, voters in California passed Proposition 8, stating that in California, marriage is only between a man and a woman. The controversial issue went to court lickety-split, with all kinds of questions and complaints.

On Tuesday of this week, a federal court ruled that Prop 8 is unconstitutional.

On Wednesday of this week, I got an email from one of the Sunday School teachers at our church. Here's the story she told me:

In the younger elementary class, kids were drawing. One boy asked a Kindergarten girl about her pictures. She was making them for her girlfriends and boyfriends, she said.

Full of second grade wisdom, the boy replied, "So, two men can get married, and it's no big deal."

The Sunday School teacher told me that, at that point, she readied herself, thinking her grown-up input and explanation would be needed.

But the young girl simply replied, "Yeah, but sometimes they have trouble having babies, so they have to adopt."

In her email to me, the Sunday School teacher said, "End of conversation, no big deal."

She concluded, "I just wanted to let you know that even the youngest among us are actively practicing the teachings of our church. I am so pleased that I will be raising my daughter in an environment that is so accepting of all God's people."

___

The word out of California is that supporters of Prop 8 plan to appeal the recent court ruling. This case may make its way all the way up the marble steps of the Supreme Court. I wonder if an elementary Sunday School class can file an amicus curiae brief?

Ten (and a Half) Texas Politicians You Need to Know

So, Rick Perry’s decided to quit his presidential hunt, leaving quirky Ron Paul to be the man from Texas on the campaign trail. And George W. Bush’s time in the White House hasn’t quite faded from our national memory.

But believe it or not, Perry, Paul and Bush aren’t the only brand of Texas politicians. Along the way, Texans have elected – dare I say it? – a few liberals. Gulp! Maybe they called themselves moderates, progressives, or populists. Maybe they simply saw themselves acting with integrity or decency. Maybe their whole records aren’t perfect. Or maybe they just accidentally did a few good things.

But in the interest of fairness to my fellow Texans, here are ten Texas politicians you need to know:

1. Mirabeau B. Lamar. As second president of the Republic of Texas, he set aside land for each county to set up schools and for the support of two universities, later the University of Texas and Texas A&M University. Lamar supported education and had the good sense to say, “A cultivated mind is the guardian genius of democracy.”

2. Elisha M. Pease. As governor in the 1850s, Pease created the Permanent School Fund, a big chunk of money that helps Texas schools keep their head above water today (despite efforts to take away their flotation devices.) Pease also gladly used state dollars (read that, taxes) to build institutions for orphans, the mentally ill, and deaf and blind Texans. And, he paid off the state’s debt at the same time.

3. Miriam Ferguson. Okay, Miriam “Ma” Ferguson left a trail of corruption and scandal in her wake, and she was pretty much the pawn of her husband. But she’s worth knowing. In part because she was a woman, elected governor in 1924. And in part because Ma took on the Ku Klux Klan (a group that made the tea party look like amateurs). She stood up to bullies.

4. Dan Moody. As governor Dan Moody reorganized the state’s prisons. He redid the state highway system to make roads connect, which meant he cut highway costs in half and meant he stood up to the road-builders and their lobbyists. He had the state started auditing its accounts.

5. Maury Maverick. Maverick served only four years in Congress, representing San Antonio, but his work is monumental. During the Great Depression, Maverick lived with African-Americans, Mexican-Americans and poor whites to see their plight first hand. He brought to Washington the memories of those tragic places. He also brought an ACLU membership card, an opposition to lynching, and loathing of the poll tax. Maverick objected to the House Un-American Activities Committee, went so far as to oppose all war in principle (though he earned a Purple Heart in World War I), and gave the world the word, “gobbledygook.”

6. Lyndon Johnson. Yep, he swaggered like Bush and Perry. Yep, he governed like a bully sometimes. And yep the Vietnam War was a horror. But dag-nab-it, the Civil Rights Acts were remarkable pieces of legislation. Federal funds for education, Medicare, Medicaid, highway beautification, environmental conservation, an all-out assault on poverty, Head Start – those things were real and powerful and needed.

7. Barbara Jordan. She sounded like God and used her voice on behalf of others. She passed a workers’ compensation bill that helped injured workers, and she broadened the Voting Rights Act to make sure that Mexican Americans were covered.

8. Ann Richards. Funny, flawed and fearless. She supported a woman’s right to choose, she appointed openly gay and lesbian Texans to offices, and championed the rights of Latinos and women. To paraphrase Texas Senator Lloyd Bentsen’s broadside against Dan Quayle, “I lived in Texas when Ann Richards was governor, and Rick Perry is no Ann Richards.” (That probably makes them both happy.)

9. William Wayne Justice. As a federal judge, his ruling about prisoners’ rights led to a complete overhaul of the Texas penal system. And his 1970 ruling led Texas schools be desegregated. Longtime Texas Lieutenant Governor Bill Hobby said of the Judge Justice, he “dragged Texas into the 20th century. God bless him. He was very unpopular, but he was doing the right thing.”

10. My Uncle George. Okay, he was actually my great-uncle. He served as County Judge of Delta County for one term. While in office, my great-uncle George Bolger got crossed up with the county sheriff Benny Fisher over the bonds to fund the jail. The sheriff wanted more money, my uncle wanted less. In the midst of haggling out the details, a weekend rolled around. While everybody was away, the sheriff moved Uncle George’s office furniture move to the courthouse men’s. I don’t know who won the bonds debate, and my serious uncle was mortified by this entire episode. But that’s why he’s on the list – he was a politician who cared about the details of a budget and the dignity of public office.

10 ½. Benny Fisher. See #10. The Delta County Sheriff makes the list as an honorable mention for having a tremendous sense of humor.

Don't Be a (Religious) Hater

I’m kind of tired of people saying that they like Jesus, but they don’t like religion. (This little rant is prompted by a recent Facebook/YouTube clip, saying, “I hate religion, but I love Jesus.”)

There’s a whole other subset of folks who opt for the “spiritual, but not religious” track. That’s a different deal. Today, it’s the “Love Jesus, Hate Religion” mindset that’s bothersome.

I get the surface points – Jesus was about treating other people with kindness, honesty, justice, grace, compassion and love. Religion (or what people say is bad or false religion) sometimes (maybe oftentimes) squelches those virtues. Fair enough – on the surface.

So, to get by the squelching, some people – with earnest, hipster-like angst – want to opt out of religion. I think that’s selfish.

Following Jesus is cool. Devoting oneself to kindness, honesty, justice, grace, compassion and love – that’s the point of life, whether you love Jesus, Buddha, Zoroaster, or Bugs Bunny.

But I don’t think you can do those things in vacuum. That is, you can’t be kind, honest, just, graceful, compassionate and loving and never interact with another person. And the minute you interact with another person, you’ve started in on “religion.”

Religion is the process of living out a values system or a faith system. Religion is two or more people trying to follow Jesus, Buddha, Zoroaster or Bugs Bunny. And the minute two people start to interact, there is conflict, or at least the potential for conflict.

“We should demonstrate our devotion to Bugs Bunny by dressing up in rabbit suits and passing out carrots,” says Adherent Number 1.

“Should they be organic carrots,” asks Adherent Number 2.

And that’s when the trouble starts. That’s religion.

The way to avoid it is for Adherent Number 1 to withdraw, to love Bugs but hate religion, to avoid Adherent Number 2.

Maybe that would work for followers of cartoon rabbits, I don’t know. But I don’t think it works to be an independent, religion-averse Jesus-lover. I think being kind, honest, just, graceful, compassionate and loving requires being religious – that is, it requires being in connection with, in cooperation with, in community with – maybe even in disagreement with – other people trying to live out those same values.

You don’t have to call your community a church or a congregation or a coven or a klatch. But you can’t act piously and sanctimoniously above the fray of religion either. It’s part and parcel of following Jesus.

Rather than “hate” religion, I think we are called to embrace it, to recognize its inconsistencies, to laugh at its foibles, to admit our own contributions to its shortfalls, to transform it as best we can.

See, “religion” (i.e., people) has done some terrible, horrible, inexcusable things. And along the way, “religion” has had a fine moment or two as well. But to “hate” religion seems to be rather sanctimonious. To take part in religion seems like hard work that keeps us humble.