The Day-After Saints

Poor St. Salvator of Horta.  His feast day on the Roman Catholic calendar of saints is March 18, the day after St. Patrick's Day.  No rivers turned green for Salvator, no drunken revelers.  No shamrocks in our lapels or leprechauns.  In honor of Salvator, people just go back to work and nurse their hangovers.

I don't think Salvator would expect much, though.  He was known for his asceticism, humility and simplicity.  No snake-whispering for him.  He was a cook and a porter.  Later, he became the official beggar for the Franciscans in his town.  What a horrible job.

Not only does Salvator have to follow Patrick on the saints calendar, he doesn't even get his own day.  No, March 8 is the feast day for both St. Salvator of Horta and St. Cyril of Jerusalem.  St. Cyril was know for teaching catechumens, which means was he was stuck teaching confirmation class.  Later he was berated for selling off church property to support poor people. Then he was exiled.  Seems like Irish eyes weren't smiling for Cyril either.

So, God bless St. Salvator of Horta and St. Cyril of Jerusalem and all the other overlooked saints who beg for money or teach confirmation, who cook the meals and carry the bags.

God bless all the second-runners-up, the also-rans and the didn't-quite-make-its.   God bless the losers, the overlooked and the next-day saints.

Facebook, the Death Penalty and Stereotypes

The "Texas Observer" is a hard-charging, left-leaning newspaper from my native Lone Star State.  Last week, they published a fine article about the "hidden progressive Christian community of Texas."  Granted, there are lots of conservative Christians in Texas, but the article's feigned surprise at finding some liberal Christians in Texas rubbed me the wrong way.

That's a common refrain, though: Christians are mean, narrow-minded, hate-filled.  And when you throw in a Southern accent, it just gets worse.

Today, I stumbled across some data that defies those stereotypes.

The House of Delegates in the State of Maryland, where I now live, voted to abolish the death penalty.  I think that is very good news.  There are some who would consider that a very liberal political move.

About an hour ago, I posted a link about that death penalty vote on my Facebook page.  In the past hour, 24 people have liked my Facebook post.

Of those 24 people, 18 of them have Texas ties.  And all of them have deep roots in the South -- everyone of them was born in the South or has lived for decades below the Mason-Dixon line.

Of those 24 people, all of them are, or have been, very active in local congregations.

Of those 24 people, at least 13 of them have seminary training and/or work in church settings of some sort.

Granted this is no scientific poll.  And my sample pool is limited.  They're all liberal Christians, mainly from the South, because those are the kind of people I hang with, even in cyberspace.

But, for anyone out there who clings to the stereotype of Christians as bigoted, vengeful, reactionary conservatives, today the State of Maryland and my Facebook page remind you:  "That ain't always the case ya'll."  Can I get an Amen?

Baking Casseroles, Playing Pianos and Preaching Sermons

My friend Nikki is a thoughtful, dedicated, compassionate minister.

I once heard Baylor football coach Grant Teaff tell an injured player to pipe down.  "I've had more pain in my eye," Teaff said.  To paraphrase, Nikki has more pastoral sensibilities in her little finger than some pastors do in their whole beings.  And she's a woman.

A couple of years ago, she and I were preparing for a funeral at the church we served.  The funeral director referred to her as "that little lady."  I pointed out that she was a member of our pastoral staff.  He said it again.  I interrupted to say she was my colleague, has a dual degree in divinity and social work, and is an ordained minister.  He hardly paused and kept talking.  (He also gave me the wrong check and rambled on about how the Book of Isaiah can cure cancer.)

After the funeral, I called his boss to complain.  Oddly, the boss took me to lunch to apologize. Not Nikki.

Today, my friend Nikki took part in a funeral with personnel from that same funeral home.  She introduced herself to a funeral director as one of the ministers participating in the  service.  Later, that funeral director asked her if she was the pianist.  As Nikki pointed out, not that ministers can't be pianists or vice versa, but if she was the pianist she would have said she was the pianist.  

Granted, funeral directors deal with many different religious traditions and many different people.  And, granted, historically more men than women have been ministers.  And, granted some religious traditions still do not allow women to be clergy.

But really?  The same funeral home? Twice?  To the same minister?  So, here's the deal, Anonymous Funeral Home That Shall Not Be Named, I'm putting you on notice.  The third time, and we're calling you out on this.  By name.  Publicly.

And let's get this straight.  Women can be ministers and pianists and scientists and plumbers and astronauts and undertakers.  Yes, some women clergy members are terrible clergy members; so are some men.  Yes, there are differences in men and women.  If I need to carry a grand piano, I'm probably going to ask the burliest men I can.  If the world needs babies carried in the womb, well, women are better at that.   And when people need to be "carried through the valley of the shadow of grief," men can bake the casseroles and play the piano and drive the hearse and preach the sermons.  So can women.

Jesus was a girl...with two mommies...and a Muslim daddy

At the church I previously served as pastor, the kids signed up in advance for the parts they wanted to play in the annual Christmas pageant.  One year, two little girls signed up to play Mary.  And nobody signed up to play Joseph.  Ours wasn't a Tony-winning show, so what the heck.  We went sans Joe that year, and two little girls -- one about 8, one about 5 -- stood together tending baby Jesus.  The double-casting was entirely innocent, but church was open and affirming to gays and lesbians, so, behind the scenes, we jokingly referred to that year's pageant as, "Jesus Had Two Mommies."

At the church I now serve, a "real" family plays the Holy Family roles, if the calendar works out.  (By calendar working out, I mean, did anyone have a baby in he past few months?  And will they be in town for Christmas Eve?)  This year, a charming little four-week old girl will play the role of baby Jesus.  And her mother and father will dress in costume as Mary and Joseph.  The best part is, the dad is Muslim.  He's not exactly "practicing" or especially "religious."  But by birth and tradition, he is Muslim.

So, Jesus is a girl.  S/he had two mommies.  And his daddy (or is that step-daddy?) is Muslim.

My grandmother had a huge yard filled with flowers, fruit trees and statues.  And every year in December she set her manger scene in the middle of it.  It was the plastic kind where you stuck up a light bulb up their robes. But my grandmother wasn't content with that.  She hauled over the rest of her statuary -- a terra cotta swan that was really a flower pot, a concrete boy with a fishing pole who normally lived at the fish pond, a ceramic frog.  By Christmas Eve, a bizarre cadre of critters surrounded Jesus.  None of them matched in style, size, or material.

Sweet little Jesus girl with two mommies and a Muslim daddy.  An odd-sized boy with a fishing poll, swans, frogs, sweaty shepherds, befuddled scientists from the east, maybe a braying donkey, a pregnant teen-aged girl, a decree-sending emperor who had no idea he was part of the tale.

Christmas is a universal story. Fear, faith, longing, home, misfits, new life.  Those are universal ideas.

"God bless us everyone," as Tiny Tim said.  And, "Peace on earth, goodwill to all."

Wayne LaPierre and Jesus

Wayne LaPierre, head lobbyist for the NRA, held a press conference in Washington today.  He said, "The only thing that stops a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a gun."

Jesus of Nazareth, is said to have been a carpenter like his daddy.  One day he sat down in a field of weeds near a lake and said, “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say to you, ‘Do not resist an evildoer. If anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn the other also.’ You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’  But I say to you, ‘Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.’”

One of those guys makes an annual salary of $970,000, by the way.  The other one was killed on a cross near the town dump and tossed in a borrowed grave.

Two different visions for life.

The Shortest Sermon You May Ever Hear

Timothy B. Tutt

Pastor, United Christian Church

Austin, Texas

Sunday, August 12, 2012  

10:00 AM Worship

11th Sunday of Epiphany

 (Lectionary Year B)

“The Shortest Sermon You May Ever Hear”

Matthew 22:34-40

34   When the Pharisees heard that Jesus had silenced the Sadducees, they gathered together, 35and one of them, a lawyer, asked him a question to test him. 36 ‘Teacher, which commandment in the law is the greatest?’ 37 He said to him, ‘ “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.” 38 This is the greatest and first commandment. 39 And a second is like it: “You shall love your neighbour as yourself.” 40 On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.’     .

[Note:  This was my final sermon to preach as senior pastor of the United Christian Church in Austin, Texas.]

Love God and live like it.   It’s that simple and that difficult.

Love God and live like it.  That’s all you have to do.

After 11 years, 572 Sundays, 132 council meetings, 132 newsletters, dozens of funerals, weddings and baptisms, and approximately 2000 dishes that I have sampled at Wednesday Night Potluck Suppers, that is what I hope you will remember:  Love God and live like that.

Everything else is just extra, and there are lots of ways to say it, but at its core, that is the call of the Gospel:  Love God and live like it.

No matter who you are or where you go, Love God and live like it.

If you are young or old or gay or straight, if you are rich or poor, or a Republican or a Democrat, if you live to be a 190 and sit in these pews every Sunday for the rest of your life, or if you never darken the door of a church again, that is what I hope you will remember: Love God and live like it.

Love God and live like it.

Benediction

Friends, as you go forth from this place, hear the Good News: 

God loves you.

Do not be afraid. 

Be kind to everyone you meet.

And remember: God loves you. 

You are loved.  You are loved.  You are loved. 

Amen, amen and amen.

Jesus and Louie Gohmert

The "Batman" movie shootings in Aurora, Colorado, are a painful tragedy.

East Texas Congressman  Louie Gohmert said on a radio show today, "You know what really gets me, as a Christian, is to see the ongoing attacks on Judeo-Christian beliefs, and then some senseless crazy act of terror like this takes place."  He was talking about this shooting.  

Gohmert also said the tragedy could have been lessened if someone else in the movie theater had been carrying a gun and shot the gunman.  He said, "It does make me wonder, with all those people in the theater, was there nobody that was carrying a gun that could have stopped this guy more quickly?" 

Jesus of Nazareth said, "But I tell you who hear me: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you.  If someone strikes you on one cheek, turn to him to other."

Not easy words.

I wonder who is the most Christian, Jesus or Louis Gohmert?