intramuralist ™

On April 30, 1789, in the nation’s capital, George Washington was sworn in as the first U.S. President. In his Inaugural Address, the first words ever spoken by a president to this country, he proclaimed:

“The propitious smiles of Heaven can never be expected on a nation that disregards the eternal rules of order and right which Heaven itself hath ordained.”

Upon completing the speech, Washington walked a few blocks down the street, leading America’s first senators, representatives, and cabinet to a place called St. Paul’s Chapel. They prayed together, asking for God’s protection on the new nation.

America is a different country today. There are those who think our current course risks disastrous consequences. Others think those people are crazy.

I am one of those people. And I’m not crazy. My concerns are financial, moral, and spiritual…

The financial issue is straightforward. We are drowning our children in an ocean of red ink. The national debt exceeds $16,871,725,000,000. Economists argue about whether the economy will crash at 80 or 90% of Gross Domestic Product, the size of the entire economy. We currently stand at 76%.

At that point, the government will have no choice:  turn on the presses and start printing money. That inescapably results in hyperinflation. Let me describe how that works. There are currently about $3 trillion dollars in circulation. If the government prints another $3 trillion to make a small payment on the debt, everything will double in price. So if gas costs $4/gallon, it will cost $8. If they print $17 trillion to pay off the entire debt, the money supply increases by a factor of 6.7, and gas will cost over $25, $400 to fill a 15-gallon tank.

People old enough to remember recall this is exactly what happened in pre-Nazi Germany. Their economy in shambles from World War I, they printed money, hyperinflation ensued, and there were vivid pictures of people taking wheelbarrows of money to the store to buy groceries. This is what led a nation to turn itself over to the rule of Adolf Hitler.

This is the path we are on, to say nothing of Obamacare and Social Security. Continuing to kick that can down the road with zero hope of financial solvency once baby boomers hit retirement may be the most unconscionable sin a generation has ever passed on to its children.

But there is plenty of sin beyond that. Any sense of moral standards has eroded in our society. Media once considered pornographic are now broadcast into our homes. Drugs are being legalized. Each week brings news of yet another senseless shooting. Over 40% of children are now born out of wedlock, and the number of abortions exceeds the entire populations of Canada and Australia combined. People took to the streets celebrating the redefinition of marriage from what it has meant for all of human history.

It is worth noting that the founding fathers provided processes for deciding important questions such as these last two. But advocates of minority positions bypassed the democratic process through the Supreme Court. In spite of the Constitution being silent on both issues, 5 of 9 people dressed in black robes overruled the legislative will of 300 million. The comparisons to Hitler are again appropriate.

Finally, there are spiritual overtones to all of the above. I’ve studied biblical prophecy about the end times. If anyone says they know when this is happening, they are wrong. But I believe that if every prophecy about the first coming of Christ was fulfilled in exact detail, then so will every detail of the Second Coming. These prophecies include ten nations coming together, led by a charismatic leader who will first befriend, then declare war against Israel.

One thing is crystal clear:  in those days, America will no longer be a superpower. If any nation declared war against Israel today, we would put a stop to it. Since such circumstance is foretold, we must no longer have that capability in those times.

Here is my point. I don’t know if America’s demise is imminent or 1000 years away. But the problems we currently face have the potential to bring us down. Spending ourselves into more debt than we could ever hope to repay and a moral decay that can only result in anarchy or tyranny could someday leave the world wondering about our country no differently than the Roman Empire. But the root of the problem is turning our backs on the God our forefathers entrusted with the protection of the nation.

Let me not leave you without hope. Second Chronicles 7:14 says, “If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, and I will forgive their sin and will heal their land.” I take great comfort from the fact that the solution to this problem does not require me to change the mind of anyone who disagrees. It only requires those of us who agree to start acting like it.

Let me close with a history lesson. Washington, D.C. did not become the capital of the United States until 1800. The first capital was Philadelphia, and under the Continental Congress and Articles of Confederation, the capitals included Baltimore, Princeton, Annapolis, and Trenton. When George Washington became the first President in 1789, the capital was New York City. Washington was inaugurated in Federal Hall, and he walked down Wall St. as he led the Congress to St. Paul’s Chapel.

The building in which the first government committed our country’s future to God’s protection is located directly adjacent to Ground Zero. St. Paul’s Chapel sat untouched, despite every building around it being damaged or destroyed on 9/11.

“The propitious smiles of Heaven can never be expected on a nation that disregards the eternal rules of order and right which Heaven itself hath ordained.”

Respectfully,

MP

“Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”  — Mary Oliver

We could debate the issue all day… and I have done so on occasion.  But honestly, when people believe, deep down in their hearts that homosexuality is a sin, I’ve learned that the debate goes nowhere.  When we already have our minds made up, that’s that.  End of story.

When the conversation hits that wall, when conversation breaks down, that’s when I most want to invite people to the church I pastor so they could meet some of our members face to face.  Let’s not talk about issues; let’s meet real people.  Let’s invite God’s children to look each other in the eye, to behold someone made in God’s own image.  Let’s invite everyone to the Table, or any table for that matter, to break bread with one another and pray, just as the early church did.  See, I pastor a Christian church which prayerfully discerned in the 1990s that they were called to a profound outreach ministry:  to declare themselves a church open to and affirming of gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgendered people.  For nearly two decades, the folks of this little church have extended an extravagant welcome to people who have been rejected at other churches, told they were going to hell, sent away to rehabilitation camps, rejected by their families and communities of faith… or at best, told they were welcome, but must come to terms with their sinful ways and change.

That “best” option isn’t better at all, by the way.  There’s a confusing, internalized, self-hatred that grows when you’re told, repeatedly, that you are damaged goods, while simultaneously being told you are created in God’s image.  I’ve sat in our sanctuary with sobbing men and women who wandered in off the street because the rainbow pride flags hanging from our building beckoned them in.  For so many, they sit there and sob, awash in mercy, amazed by God’s grace, astounded that there is a church where the promise of their baptism is affirmed — you, yes, YOU are God’s child and God is well pleased with you — for that matter, we’re all well pleased with you.  They’re shocked to find a church that will not closet nor condemn them all the more.

When I think of inviting some of these folks I’ve debated with (or stopped debating with) to church, I can’t help but think of the Gospel text about Jesus and the disciples walking through a field on the Sabbath.  Both Mark’s and Matthew’s version come to mind, for differing reasons.

In Mark, Jesus responds to the letter-of-the-law keepers by helping them understand how laws ought, and ought not, to be used: the Sabbath was made for people, not the other way around.  The people were hungry and we are not supposed to work on the Sabbath — these two things are true.  For Jesus, it comes down to people’s need.  Hunger trumps rule following.  Human necessity trumps the letter of the law.  I can’t help but think, if folks who are so wedded to their interpretation of the letter of law regarding homosexuality would come spend a Sunday at my church, for them, then, it could be like walking through the field with Jesus.  Meeting the lesbian couple that’s been together for 43 years, talking with the gay man who’s rediscovered his faith again because he’s affirmed instead of shunned, listening to the young female couple make plans for their wedding at the church, standing side by side with straight allies who make up over half the congregation — I can’t help but think this could be a revelation: human need trumps the letter of the law here, too.

And for folks for whom this particular walk with Jesus through the fields falls flat, maybe Matthew’s version of the story would come alive.  Here, Jesus surmises that mercy should rule.  Don’t sacrifice the guiltless, the guiltless who are judged by some to be guilty.  Let mercy rule.

But, who knows, really.  Who knows what would happen?  This blog post is, after all, more talk.  And as I said in the beginning, talk doesn’t go very far when we’ve shut the doors.  The God who couldn’t stay away from us, the God who couldn’t be aloof, but had to come to earth, walk around in our skin, know what it was like to hold a hand, wipe a tear, laugh, and feel his heart break, that God, the God we know in Jesus the Christ, comes knocking on the shuttered doors of our hearts, and beckons us to be in relationship with each other — real, human, relationship.  After all, when we love somebody, we see the face of God.  Maybe if we got to know each other, we might find a way to love each other and God’s face would be revealed.  So, know that you are welcome any time.  If you are one of those folks who just can’t fathom how gay people could be created good as gay, come to church.  Any time.

Respectfully,

LRM

Every year our divine hostess AR invites me to chime in on the Intramuralist and give my two cents worth around this time. And I heartily agree. This year, however, I find myself not so au currant on anything current. Like, at all.

I have found myself simply burned out on all the news of the day. The tantrums, the spin, the gotcha journalism. The celebrities who seem to make bad choices, or are famous for only being famous, the refusal to accept that the other side of any debate may have an actual belief as strong as yours for saying what they say, and doing what they do — imagine that! So, I have checked out as of late. I peruse the headlines; make sure I am not missing anything too important. And then, I simply move on to the demands of my real life.

So, as I sat down to write this, I racked my brain about what I could contribute this time around? I have spent my entire summer crafting my next book — fiction so no reality to write about there. And at the baseball diamond, watching the Ames High sophomores battle through a tough schedule and season that has seen as many downs as ups, while we parents line the bleachers and cheer our hearts out.

Any parent of an athlete will tell you, when your son or daughter plays sports, your entire life is taken up by their schedule. You make friends with the other parents, akin to how it must feel to be set afloat on a lifeboat from an enormous ship. Before the season, you might know their names, their faces, who their child is.  But after? After you are bound together by hours of hot sweaty, delirious passion for each other’s kids, for the team, and also for each other.

And it got me thinking, this group of adults, all from different backgrounds, races, education, some married some not, some born and raised in our town some, like me transplants still trying to feel at home. But yet, all of us have come together this summer, clocking hours at a time side by side in those bleachers.

I have no idea what religion or political party any of them subscribe to or believe in, no idea what channel they get their news from. I know each of them is a dedicated parent, a lover of baseball. And, that’s enough.  Wouldn’t it be amazing if the rest of society could function like that? The advent of Facebook and Linked In and Twitter makes it oh so easy to learn everything you might want to know about someone without even meeting them.  You can pre-judge anyone you want with just a few clicks through their profile page. They “like” Fox news? Must be a close-minded conservative. They “like” the Clinton Global Initiative” Must be a bleeding heart liberal with no concept of hard work. Catholic? Pedophile! Muslim? Terrorist! Agnostic? Heathen! Watcher of Honeybooboo? Idiot!

Whatever happened to just getting to know people, live and in person?  Imagine the level of understanding we all might have for one another if we actually got to know people personally, their personalities, and hearts, before we made assumptions about their belief systems. I’d like to think we’d become a much less fractured country than we are.  What I have learned this summer about humanity is summed up much more accurately from the diamond than from anything I’ve read on line or seen on TV.

If there is a tent put up to block the sun in the bleachers all are welcome to sit under it, but you may have to hold the poles on a windy day.

If a player’s sibling is in line with you at the concession stand, you may have to loan them a dollar or two so they can get that extra popsicle or candy bar their parent said they could have only if they had enough money.

The same goes for the players themselves; any trip to the concession stand may find you buying an extra hot dog for a player who forgot his money, or an extra Gatorade for the red faced teen who has already gone through the ones he bought. On that bench they all are our children.

All bags of peanuts are community property.  Bring enough to share.  Same goes for tootsie pops.

If your son strikes out or misses an easy out, rest assured the parents around you will shout out encouragement to him, knowing those words are heard easier to his ears than that of his own parent sometimes.

If your son only goes in at the end when the score is lopsided for either team, expect his triumphs to be as heralded as that of the starting line-up.

Advil, ice packs, and cold towels are readily given to any player in need of them, regardless of what parent brought them.

Winning is exhilarating, losing is heart breaking. Every time. Period.

This season has shown our team some amazing lessons. We have won some tough games, and lost the same way. We have had injuries and illnesses and long stretches of games away from home. Our fans are loyal, and loud and for the most part happy to be there.

We have a boy who has battled back from cancer, and his parents, happy to be doing something as normal as sitting in the bleachers and not in an exam room. We have stars who shine brightly some nights, and fall short others. We have the head down workers, whose steady contributions may go unheralded but for a brief cheer from the crowd. We have kids whose time on the field is little, but whose support from the bench loud and proud.  But they are a team, they lift each other up, pat each other on the back. Win or lose, it has been a joy to watch them come together as a true team.

We are our own mini society. We have our book keeper, our nurse, our head cheerleader, our statistical expert, our field expert. And someone to fill whatever blanks we may need along the way.  It has not been a perfect season, far from it. But it has been a fulfilling season that is for certain. And I will miss going to those bleachers three times a week. I’ll miss the laughs, the support, and the wild cheering with abandon. But mostly, I’ll miss the people.

I may not know who any of them voted for, how they feel about gun rights, or gay rights, or separation of church and state. But I know, if my son drops an easy fly ball, everyone of them would yell, “Shake it off, you’ll get it next time.” I know their hearts, and maybe because of that, even if their beliefs are different than mine, I know that belief comes from somewhere good. And maybe that’s how we go about finding common ground in America today.  Maybe it isn’t about sorting people by Blue or Red or whatever else divides on the surface; maybe what’s underneath is much more important. Discovering who people are by what they do for each other, not just because of what pew they sit in or who they back in the next election.

As I said, I learned everything I need to know about the current state of the world this year, at the baseball diamond. And you know what, I have more faith in our future now than I did at the beginning of the season.

Respectfully,

Jules