Who you should vote for

Early voting opened this week in North Carolina, so I thought it’d be appropriate to tell you how to vote. 

Yeah, right.

No doubt, voting in the US is a remarkable privilege. According to Quora, only 44 percent of the world’s countries are liberal democracies, which means that less than 50 percent conduct truly “free” elections. What we’ve learned over time is that people living in liberal democracies have, on average, a much higher level of education, per capita income, and good health. Furthermore, liberal democracies tend to be defined by stability, fair(er?) court systems, and a free press. Simply put, freedom promotes greater income potential and better standards of living.  

Estelle Schultz of Rockville, Maryland, votes in the
2016 election. She was born ini 1918, two years
before women were given the right to vote in the US.

We know that. Data doesn’t lie. And yet only 45 percent of eligible voters in the US will cast a ballot in this year’s election. 

Um, does that make sense? Not really, but, as they say, “it is what it is.” 

So rather than telling you WHO to vote for, I’ll make a simpler plea: vote. Get out there, friends, and vote. It’s your right and responsibility. 

But do so with something in mind: Voting will not save us. Only Jesus will. 

Here’s what I mean. When God invited us into community with one another (think Adam and Eve), he mandated that we actively care for one another (think Garden of Eden) and the kingdoms of this world (think “Proclaim repentance and forgiveness to all the world,” Jesus said), while recognizing that these systems of power can do nothing but curb our sin and create a pathway towards a semblanceof liberation, justice, and freedom. Some worldly kingdoms do a better job of that than others (think US versus Yemen), but none will ever be perfect at it. At the end of the day, the kingdoms of this world will never be able to heal the world or save us from ourselves. 

An Afghani woman votes for the first time
 in 2004, after the Taliban was deposed
and women's right to vote was restored.
Voters dip their fingers in purple ink to
prove that they have voted.

So why bother with politics at all? Why not opt out altogether? Because doing so fails to acknowledge God’s potential work through governments, public affairs, and leaders of this world. Further, scripture is all-too-clear that we are to be servants of all, actively seeking the welfare of others. This means playing a role in maintaining earthly peace and promoting a greater sense of stability and justice for all. 

When you choose not to vote, you deny both truths about God.

So … who should we vote for? Are some candidates better than others? Are some more “Christian” than others? Well, that’s hard to answer. 

What I’d suggest is something shared by Ken Chitwood when asked about the perfect
candidate: “Don’t fall into the temptation of thinking there is a perfect Christian candidate, a flawless Christian platform, or a one-size-fits-all way to vote like a Christian. Vote according to your understanding of the scriptural imperatives, your own creative conscience, and your own personal passions of freedom, liberty, and justice that God has called you to. But know that you will not make a perfect choice. Nor will I.” 

Martin Luther said something similar to Philip Melanchthon in a letter dated 1521. At that point in time, Luther had no concept of modern-day democracy or free elections, but he wrote as if he did. Be a voter, he may as well have said, and let your votes be strong, “but let your trust in Christ be stronger, and rejoice in Christ who is the victor over sin, death, and the world. We will commit sin while we are here, for this life is not a place where perfect justice resides, which is why we must look forward to a new heaven and a new earth where ultimate peace and justice will reign.” 

Bottom line: get out there and vote. 

Stacey, Woman of Courage

I’m not sure what gives some people more courage than others, but it’s a character trait I’ve often envied.

From the wide receiver who leaps for the perfect catch to the first responders rescuing folks stranded byHurricane Florence, there’s something about risking it for the sake of the play — or for the sake of the other.

Let me introduce you to Stacey Shafer. Well, “introduce” might not be the right word since Stacey has been around St. John’s for a long, long time. Let me introduce her as our new Children’s Minister.

What a courageous decision she’s made!

Not that it’s risky. Stacey’s been around long enough to know the DNA of the congregation. She knows the parents and kids and staff, the highs and lows, the challenges and opportunities.

And that’s the thing. To be honest, this isn’t an easy time to be in children’s ministry. It’s a conversation going on all around the country. Families and kids are stretched for time and attention. Traditional models don’t seem to be working and churches are scrambling for “the next best idea.” I read a statistic recently that US Sunday School attendance among children has dropped by over 50 percent in a generation. Young parents with kids are twice as likely NOT to go to church as their parents.

That’s not to be discouraging. “It’s just the fact, ma’am.” It’s also a challenge. Is it worth it?

Think about it this way. It’s 3rd and long deep in Panthers territory. Are Cam Newton and Devin Funchess gonna pack it up and head for the showers? No way. This is what they play for. This is when it gets fun!

I know, I know, Stacey isn’t facing third and long and this isn’t a rescue mission for hurricane survivors. But I would contend that this is an exciting time to be in children’s ministry if you’re the courageous type ... if you like a challenge ... if you’re eager, deep in your heart and soul, to help make a difference in the lives of our children and families.

One thing is certain: Stacey isn’t a one-person show. She’s part of a team that includes parents, her supervisor (Pastor Laura), church staff, and others who want to be part of a new movement in children’s ministry. It’s going to be hard work. There will be ups and downs, successes and, well, non-successes (my new word for the month).

But it’s worth the effort. And Stacey — the mother-of-three, loving-wife, ever-happy, cancer-survivor — is courageous and determined.

And she’d love to welcome you to the team. There’s no doubt she needs some fellow-travelers, men and women who are, likewise, eager to make a difference in the lives of our kids. She needs some folks to join her on this new movement.

Interested? Give her a call. She’d love to chat.

Thanks so much for your work in the garden. Isn’t this a great place to be?

Preparing for the worst, just in case

I stopped by the grocery store this morning to grab several gallons of water. Davin, Pastor Laura's "emergency management" husband, says we need a gallon of water/person/day of anticipated water shortage. I picked up 11 gallons. One never knows.

As we prepare for what The Weather Channel calls "a monster storm," we pray for those in harm's way and give thanks for those who are already working overtime in preparation for what could -- or could not -- be a catastrophic event.

I spoke with our city manager, Lane Bailey, at the Y on Monday evening. I was amazed -- and encouraged -- by the coordinated effort that goes into something like this. City and county maintenance and EMS employees already had been working hard cleaning storm drains and gutters, sharpening chain saws, securing evacuation routes and shelters ... just in case. All behind the scenes. No fanfare or glory. Just in case.

We'll pray that this storm will weaken and lives and property will be saved. But sometimes storms o'ertake us and chaos rules the day. In either case, good or bad, may we lean into each other and the grace of God for protection, guidance, hope, and encouragement.

"Grant us, O Lord, a consciousness of your presence and a strong confidence in you. In our anxiety, surround with your care. In our weariness, protect us by your loving might; through Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen."

Salisbury's Confederate statue

"Fame" on the evening of August 19,
after being splattered with white paint
by unnamed vandals

Let me jump into a topic that you might prefer I keep quiet about: Fame.

As you know, a beautiful bronze statue, originally cast in Belgium, was dedicated in 1909 to honor fallen Confederate soldiers. Over these last 109 years, the "angel statue" has become part of Salisbury's cultural landscape, all the while attracting frustration from those who don't think the city should be honoring the Confederate cause.

It's a touchy issue, no doubt, made even more complicated because the statue and the plot of land upon which it sits belongs to the Daughters of the Confederacy (DOC).

Let's be brutally honest: this issue isn't going away. Something will happen ... either in the spirit of consensus or through mob rule (remember Silent Sam?) I hate the thought of it, but we simply cannot eliminate the possibility of two factions marching toward the statue from opposite ends of Innes Street, landing directly in front of St. John's Church. A frightening possibility.

Two thoughts come to mind.

How can we form consensus over such a divisive issue? That's what leaders do: they seek consensus if consensus can be found. Sometimes it cannot - for moral or ethical reasons, for example - but it's always an important place to begin. What can we agree about regarding the statue? Do the dedicatory plaques tell the whole story of our community's involvement in the war? Is the statue a piece of art or is it purely a memorial?

The last question is an important one. What if we, through consensus, claim the statue as more "art" than memorial? It’s an important distinction. Good art, after all, isn't static. Artists are often unwilling to share their own interpretations of their artwork because "good" art is timeless, allowing the observer to lay his/her own interpretation upon the art, rooted in her own context, time, and place. In that regard, the dedication of Fame and the racial undertones that may or may not have accompanied its placement are secondary. Important - necessary, in fact - but secondary. Fame, as art, begs to be reinterpreted for a modern context.

With that in mind, what if we unleashed the community's artists to help reinterpret the statue? Artists are often our best prophets, so what if we allowed them to wrestle with a broader, more holistic vision of Fame? How might they deal with the plaques at the base of the statue?

That's what happened with the slave cemetery next to the Old English Cemetery. There was a very clear reason why the stone wall was constructed nearly two centuries ago - to separate white from black. I completely understand the opinion of some that the wall should have been removed altogether.

Until someone had the brilliant idea of allowing artists to get in on the discussion - artists who, by the way, represented a variety of ethnic and socio-economic backgrounds. The result: pull down a portion of the wall. Allow the stones to look as though they were broken through and tossed aside. It's an incredible statement - theologically, culturally, and historically. The walls that separate us have been broken - not fully removed, but broken. The two cemeteries have become one.

How might we re-envision and reinterpret Fame? It's a beautiful piece of art, after all. Which is precisely my point: let's claim it as art. Art that isn't beholden to or enslaved to the artist's original intent, but is allowed to be reimagined throughout time.

There was a time when Fame represented our racist past (for some, at least). What might it represent in the future? How might it be a reflection of who we are? Who we ALL are?

"I pray," Jesus said, "that they may be one as we are one ... so that the world might believe." (John 17:21).

Let's dare to sit down and think in different ways. Let's dare to sit down and listen to one another, claiming this moment in time as an opportunity to tell a richer, fuller story of who we are. Let’s dare to set an example for other communities. We can. I just hope that we will.

Older than dirt

Last week I received my 50 year patch from Lutheridge. Which means, well, I'm old.

It's hard to believe, to be honest. I vividly remember the tether ball championship in 5th grade (Laura Faust cheated, I should add). My first dance at Pioneer B lodge (6th grade) ... dumpster diving in search of my retainer (9th grade) ... breaking my wrist playing volleyball as a counselor ... iconic figures like Papa John, Belvin, Sailor, Pam, and Mama Cline ... getting stuck on Mt. Mitchell with Krista and a slew of middle schoolers during a vicious thunder storm (1997) ... the "hobo Jesus" performances every Thursday night of confirmation camp ... the old Luther Lodge, Friday night Music Week concerts, Capture the Flag at Lakeside (still the best place to play Capture the Flag), life as a WAD, stories of Old Blue and Grey Cabin, the annual Miss Lutheridge contest (why didn't I didn't save my crown?), counselors adding their stars in the PB lounge (mine's a Converse star), dropping my own kids off for camp. The list goes on and on.

Now 68 years old, Lutheridge has been a special place for generations of campers. I'm so very thankful that it remains a vibrant part of the church's ministry -- the perfect training ground for children, youth, and adults. In a nutshell, Lutheridge is Christian formation at its finest.

This summer, Lutheridge welcomes 2,000 campers of all stripes, sizes, and colors. It's not fancy. It doesn't try to "keep up with the Joneses." It just keeps doing what the camp has done for four generations: create space for campers to experience the power of the Holy Spirit. 

I'm glad St. John's has been in partnership with Lutheridge since the very beginning. And I'm glad that I get to proudly display my 50 year patch. 

Even if it means I'm older than dirt.

How do we make decisions?

Krista and I have enjoyed watching Madam Secretary on Netflix lately. Tea Leoni -- Sam Malone's old girlfriend, remember that? -- stars as a former CIA analyst turned Secretary of State. She's smart, capable, an out-of-the-box thinker, and determined to make impactful decisions based as much on ethics as national interest. For purists, that can be a problem. I find it refreshing. 

Last night I watched an old episode of House of Cards, the wildly popular show (once upon a time) about a president and his wife who make impactful decisions without any regard whatsoever to ethics or national interests. Their first and absolute priority is, you guessed it, them. More specifically, their drive to always stack the cards in their favor. 

Both shows are lessons in culture and character, and both reveal -- more than we'd like to admit, perhaps -- our own struggles in making decisions. 

In our sermon series, Road to Character, we'll be consistently turning to that question: How and why do I make the decisions I make? For most, there's not a single answer. We consider ethics, context, time, and "what's in it for me?" Martin Luther says that our ultimate responsibility is to probe the inner depths of our conscience, championing a whole new understanding of one's freedom. James Madison quoted Luther in his defense of the Bill of Rights as this country wrestled with a whole new understanding of liberty. 

Ultimately, we are "bound by the dictates of our own conscience," Luther would say. But what informs our conscience? Is our conscience always our best guide? What if it is in error? What if we've been feeding it a bunch of junk? What then? 

Those are the questions we wrestle with in our Road to Character -- a journey that invites us into an internal struggle for our own soul. I hope you'll join us.

In the meantime, thanks so much for what you do in this part of God's garden. Have a great week!

An immigration policy that reflects our true character

The immigration debate has taken a difficult turn in the last week. The challenge of formulating an appropriate policy has been loaded down with political rhetoric and maneuvering for position. It's something we've gotten used to, it seems.

But this situation is a bit different. As we debate and argue, kids are sitting in detention centers separated from their parents. Some are no doubt traumatized; all are confused. No matter your opinion, it's hard not to see that these kids are being used as political pawns in a game that is terribly unfortunate.

What does all this say about our character as a nation?

I've decided not to question the integrity of those making decisions, but to pray that the decisions being made reflect our values as a compassionate people. I've decided to pray for children in detention centers and for the workers suddenly charged with their care. I've decided to pray for leaders who are bold enough to set aside rhetoric, and for border patrol officers who have to make challenging decisions every hour of every day. Like you, I pray for families who are escaping the trauma of poverty only to encounter the trauma of separation.

Attorney General Jeff Sessions quoted Romans 13 in his defense of the "zero tolerance" policy, in which St. Paul encourages the persecuted Christians in Rome to strive for peace by living according to Roman law. I wish Sessions would have read the rest of the chapter, when Paul reminds them and us that the ultimate law is rooted in love. Quoting Jesus he said, "God's law is summed up in this word, to 'Love your neighbor as yourself,' for love does no wrong to a neighbor" (Romans 13:9-10).

Big decisions will be made in the next few days. Let's pray that these decisions will be rooted in love and compassion for all.

Thanks so much for scattering the seed this week. We'll see you in church.

Juliana stares down the volcano

The news from Guatemala was hard to hear. Although students at our school are safe, far too many extended family members and friends have been affected. Some have lost their lives. As teachers, students, and parents clean up the ash and learn to live with face masks, we give thanks for their blessed community and pray for blessed peace.

Juliana Anderson is a college student from St. John's who is spending the summer helping at Escuela Integrada. Her responsibilities have shifted considerably these last few days. Here's what she had to say in a text earlier this morning:

"It's been a scary past couple of days. We didn't realize on Sunday how big the explosion was until we saw the videos. The death toll has been rapidly increasing. We're thanking God that all of the kids at the school are safe, but a new friend at a school closer to the volcano lost four of his students. Others were severely burned. There was already a lot of need in Guatemala, and now entire towns have been destroyed, jobs lost, and loved ones killed. The need is even greater now than ever."

Pray for our friends in Guatemala, especially those already living in extreme poverty. If you would like to contribute to disaster relief, the school has set up a contribution page on their website. I'd encourage you to visit it for information and updates, wearegraces.org/disaster-relief.

Blessings to you this week. Thanks so much for your partnership in the Gospel.

Farewell, Freya

In the next few weeks, we will bid farewell to Freya Obermuller, who has lived with us as an exchange student since last August. Freya, from Hamburg, Germany, has become a wonderful addition to our family — our fourth child, it seems — leading Carter and Matt to call her Freya OberWoolly. She’ll certainly be missed.

I want to thank you for your gracious hospitality toward Freya. She came to us after a mid-summer plea from the high school, when her assigned host family in Oregon needed to back out at the last minute. Early on, we asked that Freya and her parents understand that I’m a pastor, and her involvement in worship and youth activities would be a given. There was no hesitation whatsoever.

The first week after arrival, she started rehearsing with the chancel choir in preparation for last fall’s German language play, “In God’s Own Country.” Along the way, she’s developed solid friendships with members of the youth group, participating in all their activities, trips, and as a reader on Youth Sunday. She’s enjoyed her first (and only) prom, glass-bottled Cheerwine, and joined her American sister, Anna, as a member of the undefeated Salisbury High soccer team.

On her last Sunday in worship, June 3, we’ll be singing Freya’s favorite hymn, “The Canticle of the Turning,” a contemporary Irish hymn that includes a phrase well-suited for these days of farewell:

“My heart shall sing of the day you bring. Let the fires of your justice burn.

Wipe away all tears, for the dawn draws hear, and the world is about to turn.”

Our hope is that this relationship will continue to grow through the years, so that our “goodbye” might only be temporary.

In the meantime, thank you, again, for your warm embrace. You have helped Freya and all of us see that God’s family extends far beyond these four walls. What a blessing!

A royal wedding and ethnic cleansing

Two completely different thoughts I'd like to share today:

One ... A lot has been said about Bishop Curry's sermon at the Royal Wedding. I was even more engaged by the bride's African American mom, Doria Ragland. 37 years ago she was pregnant, watching the wedding of Harry's parents, never imagining that the baby she was carrying would one day marry a prince from the same family. And now, here she is, a divorced black woman who has been marginalized most of her life, sitting directly across the aisle from the Queen of England. The contrast was stunning. 

Two ... violence in Gaza. Many of you have read my comments about Israel and Palestine, rooted in what I worry is the ethnic cleansing of Christian Palestinians. The situation in Gaza is maddening on so many levels, but it's also very complicated. If you're interested in what I think is a balanced explanation of what's going on, here's a good link to follow https://www.npr.org/sections/parallels/2018/05/18/611940486/deep-contradictions-remain-at-the-core-of-the-israeli-palestinian-conflict. If you're interested in the Lutheran church's efforts to provide humanitarian relief and medical service to those affected by the violence, click here. The Augusta Victoria Hospital -- a ministry of the Lutheran World Federation -- is doing amazing work, but they, too, face growing pressure from a government that's not keenly interested in their presence and ministry. Let's hold their work in prayer.

Blessings to you this week. Thanks for your good work in God's garden!

Wearing red for teachers

I'm wearing red today in honor of our teachers.

I know this has become a politically charged issue -- especially today, as teachers march on Raleigh, each of them wearing red -- but I'm not trying to make a political statement. It just seems to me to be an appropriate starting place.

Outside of parents, teachers have the most influence on a child's life. Because of some home situations, the teacher is even more influential than a parent. There's no doubt, then, that the future of our community is dependent upon good teaching from well-qualified teachers, just as the future of our community's health is dependent upon well-qualified health professionals.

With that in mind, surely we can agree that a well-trained, motivated, highly-engaged, intelligent, appropriately-paid core of teachers is critical for our students' success and necessary for our community's future.

So let's begin there, by honoring the teaching profession for what it is: a committed, professional core of men and women who have dedicated their lives to the future of our students and community.

I've heard legislators make a lot of critical comments about teachers these last few days. That's not a very good way to begin a conversation. I'd rather see these same legislators walk alongside teachers today, setting aside all the politicizing, demonizing and grandstanding that has dominated the debate for far too long.

Let's start this new legislative session by honoring our teachers. It's a great place to begin.

Thanks for your work in God's garden today. I'll see you in church.

Why does Donal Trump (and Rhodes Woolly) lie?

My friend, Wade, remembers vividly the day his young daughter lied for the first time. He laughed when he called to tell me about it .. then felt suddenly sad, knowing that she would be wrestling with the demon of "bearing false witness" the rest of her life.

Why do we keep lying with such regularity? Don't we ever learn?

Part of that answer is rooted in risk and reward. So many people inherently love taking risks, and lying is a risk with potential reward. The problem is that once we "win" the risk, we become hooked. The more we lie (stretch the truth, exaggerate, deceive, whatever), the more likely we are to do it again.

As you know, Trump's White House is the latest to be caught red-handed (so it seems) stretching the truth. Remember Watergate? Monica? LBJ's Gulf of Tonkin humdinger? All were presidential lies that eroded our trust in folks who need our trust to survive.

So, why do they (we) do it? Why not be honest with us? It's an age-old question, of course, and most of us have yet to come up with a good response. Except, well, this one: We lie because we are afraid -- afraid of losing something -- and the only way we know to get what we really want is to lie. Oh, and cross our fingers behind our backs.

Is lying an epidemic in American politics? Probably no more so than it has been in the past, but it's still so very tiring. After a while you wonder, "What can I trust? Is this just another, um, lie?"

1 John offers an antidote that presidential advisors should keep in their back pockets, ready to apply at a moment's notice: "If we say that we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. But if we confess our sins, God who is faithful and just will forgive our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness" (1 John 1:8-9).

Honest confession. It's a start, at least ... for Wade's daughter, the president, and, well, you and me.

Blessings to you and yours. 

Too busy to worship?

We do a lot around here. Volunteers are always buzzing around this place, and even more are actively engaged in their own ministry all around the community. 

But nothing is more important than worship. And no week is more significant than Holy Week. 

This week we gather to hear the story of faith -- the whole story, not just part of it. Not just the good stuff, but the tough stuff, too. We hear about brokenness and wrong decisions and terribly painful sin and separation. Then, on Easter, we hear about new beginnings and second chances and another lease on life. We hear it all. And we worship a God who wants to tell us the whole truth, the whole story. Not just part of it. 

I've met plenty of folks who have given up on worship. They don't get anything out of it, or they feel they can worship while kayaking on a lake better than singing old hymns in a stodgy church. I get it ... sort of. 

Here's the problem: God didn't ask us to worship for his sake, but for ours. He invites us to step away from our consumer mentality and consider that worship isn't about us or our preferences. Worship reminds us that Christianity isn't a solo sport, a one person band. Worship is about being in community with God and with God's people. And when we decide that we don't need the church, we're effectively eliminating half of our faith ... which means half of the story.

Who wants to hear and know only half the story? 

A lot of folks are struggling with the discipline of regular worship. If that's you, may I invite you to give it another chance? As you do, ask God to give you the blessing of proper focus -- a focus on God. Ask God to remove your worries and opinions and all those things that get in the way of true worship. And set your heart on a spirit of gladness, that your worship might reflect the beauty of Psalm 100: "Shout to the Lord all the earth. Worship the Lord with gladness, and come before him with joyful song. Enter his gates with thanksgiving, and his courts with praise, for the Lord is good and his mercy extends forever; his mercy endures for all generations. 

I look forward to seeing you in worship, friends. Happy Easter!

Waiting at the DMV

As I write this note, I’m sitting in the DMV office waiting to renew my driver’s license. 45 minutes in, I’m trying to find ways to occupy my time.

Within this 8 x 12 waiting area sit 19 people from all walks of life, each of us consumed by our own thoughts, living in our own little universe. One lady I recognize from the CDC. Otherwise, I don’t know a soul. No one is talking. Most are staring straight ahead. One older gentleman is asleep. Others are looking into their phones, lost in the pages of Facebook or Instagram. I’m pretty sure they have no clue I’m writing about them. 

In Luke’s gospel, Jesus approaches Jerusalem on a day we call Palm Sunday. The closer he gets, the louder the crowds become, crowds that just a few months earlier had been silent, lost in their own world of personal, daily concerns. When the Pharisees told Jesus to quiet the crowds, he said “If they keep quiet, the stones would begin to shout.”

What do we need to shout about today? What deserves our utmost attention?

Let’s not leave the gospel in the hands of stones. God needs us to stand up and shout! ..... although, admittedly, this lady sitting next to me might get a little nervous if I do.

What can we learn from each other?

I bet you and I disagree over gun control. In fact, I guarantee it.

Whether you’re a gun rights advocate or a gun removal activist, there likely are nuances in your position that would cause me to disagree with you. The same is true with most topics of conversation, especially the controversial ones. Immigration? Probably. Gay rights? Likely. The new tax code? Almost certainly.

But guess what? I’m not right about everything. I know that’s hard to believe (no comment, Krista!), but it’s true. As it turns out, I don’t have the corner on absolute truth, unless we’re talking about Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior.

Which is precisely why we need to be in conversation. I need to hear your opinion, and you need to hear mine. We need to do more than talk at each other and dare to listen to one another.

It’s not rocket science. And yet, well, why are we so bad at it these days?

I learned something in middle school that was critically important to me. I was at a youth gathering at Camp Kinard, although I can’t remember much more than that. We were doing the time-honored Trust Fall, when participants turn their backs to the group, close their eyes, and fall backwards into the arms of friends — trusting that they’ll be caught.

Trust is the key word.

The Trust Fall activity was old hat, one of those activities youth leaders rely on when they’ve run out of ideas.

But this time, one of the adults — I’ll never remember who — said something like this: “We’ll never learn to listen to one another unless we learn to trust one another.” Trust isn’t the ending point. Learning to trust one another is but a starting point that leads to better listening, which leads to better understanding, which sometimes leads to compromise, which almost always leads to peace.

We seem to live in an age when everyone wants their opinions heard, but no one wants to hear the opinions of others. Bizarre, isn’t it? We need to rediscover the art of listening ... which starts by daring to trust.

The NRA has a lot to learn from students in Parkland, Florida ... and the rising tide of gun control activists have something to learn from the NRA. So let’s stop the political maneuvering. Let’s stop sacrificing truth for the sake of protecting political turf.

Let’s dare to have conversations that matter in a spirit of trust and respect. Let’s open our ears so that the Spirit might open our hearts and minds. We just might learn something from each other.

“Encourage one another, and build each other up,” Paul writes to the confused and somewhat misguided church in Thessalonica. It’s good advice for us today, don’t you think? 

Another shooting

This is getting crazy. Parkland represents the 17^th school shooting in 2018 alone, a statistic that’s on the rise in significant and frightening ways.

As if by script, responses from politicians have been predictable and represent very little nuance. The NRA has yet to issue an official response, but I’d be surprised if it reaches beyond the standard response to school tragedies and mass shootings: “We need more, not fewer guns.”

Which is a curious response, it seems to me. Already there are over 325 million guns registered (note, “registered”) by private citizens in the US, more than twice as many per capita than any other country in the world. Even more shocking, 36 countries have reported a school shooting since 2000. The US reports twice as many as all other countries combined.

We need more guns?

We’ve been debating this issue for years, no doubt, and if you’ve been around me very often you know how I feel. I didn’t grow up in a family system that enjoyed the use of firearms, although I’ve often envied friends who did, especially given the bond it often generates between father and son. And though I’ve never had a gun in my home, I’ve been around gun enthusiasts all of my life, especially in the Shenandoah Valley, where we lived for 13 years – a region that syncs school calendars with the beginning of hunting season.

Bottom line: I don’t have a problem with guns. In fact, I think it’s a rather fascinating part of our social fabric.

But isn’t it time we started talking about what’s gone wrong? Isn’t it time we had an honest, gutsy conversation about gun regulation without fear of retribution or attack?

Perhaps – perhaps – that’s what’s happening these days. It’s far too early to say, but the Parkland shooting has stirred up more than emotion. It’s stirred up a hive of high school activists who are saying “enough is enough.” Just nine days removed from the Parkland shooting, high schoolers have stormed Washington, Tallahassee, and the majority of our nation’s capitals. Even President Trump said, “It’s time to listen.”

My prayer is that good folks on both sides of the issue will use this tragedy to do just that: listen to one another. We’ve heard enough opinions. We’ve drawn too many lines in the sand. We’ve already spent too much campaign money. It’s time to listen.

And as we listen, let’s pray for spiritual freedom – that minds on both sides might be open to new insight. That our hearts might be enlarged to consider new possibilities.

That’s precisely what happened during the great suffrage and civil rights movements in the United States. It’s precisely what guided the Peaceful Revolution to a united Germany.

It’s what we need right now. Let’s not wait for yet another mass shooting. Let’s do the hard work of listening to one another. 

U2, the Grammys, and learning how to breathe

Krista and I watched the Grammy Awards last Sunday night, our annual opportunity to catch up on a contemporary music scene that is slowly slipping away from us.

It’s always a fun event — loaded with amazing performances, emotional challenges, and over-thetop grandstanding. This Grammys went a bit overboard we thought, becoming more of a political commercial than musical entertainment. Not a surprise, given a celebrity culture that loves to award itself — how many awards shows can there be? — and pretend, for one night at least, that they are more prophet then performer.

In any case, we were blown away by U2's contribution. I'm a biased U2 fan, I'll admit, but this performance was incredible. Staged on a barge in New York's harbor with the Statue of Liberty in the background, the band challenged us to rethink the whole immigration debate. U2 doesn't take a traditional approach to anything, and that was certainly the case here. The performance was powerful musically and substantively. 

Immediately following, someone on the Grammys stage made a quick and all-too-obvious political statement, and then we were off to a commercial — within seconds of U2’s performance — only to return to the next political rant from some rather unknown (to me) performer/prophet.

I was frustrated, but I couldn’t put my finger on why until the next morning in our staff meeting. We were talking about the Grammy’s when Angel, our communications assistant, said, “They didn’t give the song time to breathe. They were so quick to move to the next topic.”

So true. I needed time for the song/performance to sink in. I was challenged, and, let’s be honest, I didn’t necessarily agree with everything Bono was trying to get across — but I wasn’t given the chance to breathe, think, soak it in, reflect.

… which is a problem these days, don’t you think? Our fast-paced society produces so many fast-paced opinions that we’re hardly given the chance to think. It’s a crisis, in my opinion. A crisis of thoughtful reflection. We simply don’t take the time to breathe.

In my first year of pastoral ministry, I was required — which was a good thing because I probably wouldn’t have gone otherwise — to attend a retreat on Spiritual Reflection. Day 2 of the retreat was to be a silent day. No talking. No conversation. No casual reading. We were to spend the time in theological contemplation and prayer. Sounds brutal, doesn’t it?

But I learned something: that without time set aside for reflection, we’re not giving our souls and spirits time to breathe.

When I was a camper at Lutheridge, a pastor-chaplain asked us, “What do you listen to when you go to bed at night?” I used to listen to the Cincinnati Reds baseball network or a replay of Casey Kasem’s American Top 40. We all had something that we listened to.

He suggested that we turn it all off and listen to nothing. “Your day is loaded with sound. Enjoy the sound of silence.” (I’m making up that quote, by the way, but he certainly said something like that.)

Later in life, I’ve interpreted his comment as one that reaches beyond the “sound of silence,” into the realm of theological reflection. “Create time,” he may as well have been saying, “for creative reflection in your life. Think more deeply about things. Don’t rely only on the opinions or thoughts of others; take time to think for yourself.”

I must admit that I worry about our addiction to a social media empire that pulls us away from quiet, reflection, and a deeper level of thinking. I worry about a news industry that invites us to tune in only to opinions we already agree with.

I worry that we don’t take time to breathe.

Perhaps that’s where the church comes in. Worship is many things, but it’s certainly a time set aside to breathe. A place where we invite the Holy Spirit to encounter us, challenge us, and walk alongside us.

After his resurrection, Jesus tracked down his confused disciples and did a curious thing: “He breathed on them” (John 20:22). He knew they needed it.

So do we.

Peace, friends.