On Being the Church in a Broken World

This past weekend I attended the annual meeting of the Florida Conference of the United Church of Christ.  Delegates from around the state joined together for worship, workshops and business.  Before you decided you're not interested in any of this church stuff, hear me out.  Because I witnessed somethings that I think tells us not only a lot about the state of the church, but also the state of the world.

On Saturday morning John Vertigan,  our Conference Minster (for you non-United Church of Christ readers, that's something like a bishop without the power) gave his annual address to the gathered.  It was powerful, and spoke not only about parochial matters, but also about our role as a denomination in the work of justice in the wider world.

After he was done speaking John and the planning committee had scheduled a town hall style time for folks to offer comments, ask questions or promote their own concerns.  The variety of issues brought up reflected the very eclectic nature of our denomination.  But two of the speakers stood out from the rest.

One was a young black man, who was attending with his teenaged son.  When he was called on, he stood up, introduced himself, and indicated he was relatively new to the Untied Church of Christ.  He then asked his son to stand up with him.  I paraphrase, here, but this is the gist of his comments.

It's hard, he said, to know where you are safe when you're a black man in our society.  Even harder if you're a very young man.  You don't know what the other person is thinking.  You don't know if they are discounting you because of your race, or if they are frightened, or if they are accepting of differences.  I have been so relieved to find this church, because here I know I am loved and so is my son.  He was in tears when he sat down.  And so were most of the rest of us.

A speaker or two after that, a woman in the rear of the sanctuary stood up.  You know, she said, I'm angry.  I'm angry that more people don't know about our church.  I'm tired of being lumped together with folks who call themselves Christian, but who hate gay people and transgendered people and so many others.  I am tired of having to defend myself every time I tell someone I'm a Christian.  She had a hard time speaking, at one point, for she too was in tears.

I don't know about you, but I share her frustration.  And I am continually saddened by the truth spoken by the young black father.  I am grateful to be part of a church that speaks up about racism, the environment, the rights of LGBTQ people and so on.  But I am also very aware that we need to do a better job getting out our message.  Because the world shouldn't be so dangerous for a fourteen year old black teenager and his dad. 

The Greatest of These . . . .

The Imperial River wends its way through Bonita Springs, and after many more inches of rain than normal in August, and a hurricane in September, the river jumped its banks, and flooded many nearby homes.  The damage was and is devastating.

This past Saturday, as part of a larger effort mounted by the Rotary Clubs in this part of Florida, eight members of my club here on Sanibel ventured down to Bonita Springs to help out.  We were assigned to do debris removal and preliminary demolition of a home that had suffered extreme water damage.  Our task was to cart out all the ruined furniture, clothing, curtains and personal effects, and pile them by the side of the road for pick-up and removal.  And then, under the guidance of a volunteer crew chief, we were to remove the baseboards and all the no-longer drywall in the house up tot he four-foot mark. "Be careful," said the crew chief, "especially if you have thin soles.  There are bound to be nails."

The owner of the house, who we will call Maria, and her young adult daughter, were present to salvage what they could and to give us guidance as to what we should or should not throw out.  As Maria watched, often in tears, we hauled out most of her belongings, now ruined by mold and mildew.  We were told to set aside a few items that had been especially high up.  The almost new refrigerator and stove were still being paid for, so those were kept because Home Depot need to see them.  Hopefully to replace them with new ones. Ironically, one of the damaged books that went into the trash was called The Elements of Feng Shui.  Another was a Spanish language New Testament.

As we neared the end of the time removing household items, I noticed mounted near the top of the door frame going out of the house, a small hanging, with a tribute to Nuestra Senora de Guadalupe (Our Lady of Guadalupe)--and hanging from the same nail, a rosary.  I went to find Maria, and brought her into the house and asked if she wanted to keep the hanging and the rosary.

"Oh yes," she said, as she started to tear up.  I took down the rosary, and as I handed it to her, she looked at me and said, "My granddaughter got this for me in . . . ."  She hesitated and turned to her daughter.  "Jerusalem," said her daughter.  "Yes," said Maria, "Jerusalem.  I love it."  Then turning to the crucifix, hanging on the other side of the door frame, she said, "I really love Jesus."

Having lost almost everything she owns, Maria reminded me with her simple words, that there are some things no flood can wash away; there are some things that no hurricane can destroy, that faith, and hope and love, do indeed abide.

We had been warned by our crew chief to be careful if we had thin soles.  What he didn't say, was "Be careful if you have thin souls."

Thank you fellow Rotarians, for being love in action.  Thank you Maria, for granting us the privilege of learning from you in a most powerful way.

(Photo:  Sanibel-Captiva Rotarians in front of Maria's home)

Worried about Vegas--and Lee County Too

I am worried.  Really worried.  I am worried that we will forget about Houston, or San Juan or Mexico City.  Because terror struck last night.  Whether we call it an act of domestic terrorism or not, terror struck last night in Las Vegas.  The men and women, the girls and boys caught in that hailstorm of bullets were terrified.  And well they should have been.  And so, it was an act of terror.  For not only did it frighten those caught in the mass shooting, it also made all of us a bit more fearful, a bit more uncertain about our own personal safety. Truly, my heart goes out to all those impacted, directly and indirectly by this horrendous act.

But still, as I said, I am worried.  Because we as Americans get so caught up in the news cycle.  It is as if we are afflicted with a national case of ADD, a national case of Attention Deficit Disorder.  We can't seem to hold our focus on one concern for more than a week or so.  We are so easily distracted that we speak about the disaster of the week.  And so things often come and go without anything really being done about the underlying factors that figured into their happening.  We live by the motto, out of sight, out of mind.

So there was flooding in Houston after Hurricane Harvey that has disrupted millions of lives?  That's so sad, our thoughts and prayers go out them.  This week.  And earthquake toppled buildings, even schoolhouses, and killed little children as well as adults?  So tragic!  Our thoughts and prayers go out to them.  This week.  An island full of American citizens was laid to waste by Hurricane Maria?  Goodness!  Our thoughts and prayers . . . . You get the drift.

More and more I realize the importance of thinking globally, but acting locally.  I need to support the various agencies that will help address the problems in far flung places like Houston, San Juan, Mexico City and San Juan.  I need to be aware of them.  But I also need to address the problems closest to home.  Flooding?  There's plenty of that right here in Southwest Florida due to Hurricane Irene.  What can I do to help?  An earthquake in mexico City?  Maybe I need to sepak out about the impact of fracking on our fragile limestone underpinnings in South Florida.  Gun violence in Las Vegas?  How can I work for better gun control and readily accessible mental helcth care in my own community?  Poverty in Puerto Rico made worse by a devastating storm?  What can I do to help alleviate the poverty right here in Lee County. 

I'm not suggesting that anyone should close out the wider world.  But I am suggesting we can do more than move on from one disaster to the next.  We can make a difference right where we live.  We can, and we should.

Irma, Justice and Me

I was part of a meeting with regional and national denominational officials yesterday to discuss our response to Hurricanes Harvey, Irma and Maria.  Naturally, much of our conversation focused around our immediate area here in Southwest Florida and our own experiences of Hurricane Irma.  Stories were shared, statistics analyzed, offers of help made, preliminary plans discussed for actions to be taken, and so on. 

One of the issues that got raised was the connection between charity and justice.  How do we see the impact of underlying systemic issues on disaster situations?  I've been giving that some thought over the last twenty-four hours.  And as I drove to work this morning, and rode down the main drag (let's face it, the only drag) through the island, I couldn't help but be impressed by how much progress has been made in cleaning up the mounds and mounds of vegetative debris that lined the street just last week.  It's not all gone, but it is so much better!

But of course that's happened quickly.  This is an island of means.  We are fortunate to have the resources, both human and financial, to do such things quickly and well.  But there are other places, not so many miles from here, where such clean up will take months and months.  In part because of greater damage to begin with (for many homes in such places are made of substandard materials or are poorly constructed mobile homes), and in part because of a lack of resources.
And here's the irony:  most of the folks doing the actual clean-up work here on the island, live in those places that will still be buried in debris in the months ahead.

Hurricane Katrina brought up many of these issues over a decade ago.  But I am afraid we still haven't taken it all to heart.  As Harvey and Irma and most especially Maria, are showing us once again.

After Irma

"We dodged a bullet!"  So read the local daily paper's headline after the storm passed.
And so we did.  Irma certainly brought some real damage to our area, but nothing like what might have resulted had we endured the predicted storm surge of fifteen feet.  It will take a while to get things cleaned up and back in shape, but by-and-large, we made out well.  Here.  On Sanibel.  In Fort Myers where I live.  But not everywhere.

A friend of mine noted in one of her Facebook posts during the last week that she hesitates to say we were blessed by not being hit so hard.  She is on to something when she notes that it raises disturbing questions.  Does that mean places like Barbuda and St. Thomas and Key West and Marco Island were not blessed?  Does that mean they were cursed in some way?

There are those who thank God that the storm didn't do more harm here than it did.  And that is appropriate. We must be grateful for all the good things in our lives.  But God didn't steer the storm in another direction.  God didn't bless us and curse others by bending and twisting Irma's path.  We can, and should, thank God for the many blessings we have, but not if we think we are somehow blessed and therefore others must be counted as cursed.  That's a zero-sum approach.  Everything in the end must zero out.  For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.  It may be good physics (though there are those who would debate that point as well), but it makes for just plain bad theology.

We are all blessed, loved, accepted, by God.  That love, that acceptance, is unlimited and is not parceled out to some and not to others.  Period.

But there is also a lot of pain, a lot of destruction, a lot of damage in our world.  And it is our task to share that love in and through our responses to Irma, Harvey, the wildfires out west, and all the other ways people are hurting in our world.

Now that we've dodged a bullet, how will we live?  That's the real question. 

Waiting for Irma

And so we wait.  We've made arrangements for shelter.  We've put the yard in order--brought in any projectiles, taken down statuary and locked doors and gates.  We've gotten mother's condo buttoned up.  We've filled a portable filebox with our insurance policies, passports and so forth.  We've stocked up on bottled water, flashligths and batteries.  Wonderful volunteers and staff members at church have gotten things ready there.  We've cancelled church services and activities this weekend.  We've done what we've needed to do to prepare for Hurricane Irma.  And now we just wait.  Wait and pray.

Not that God will suddenly stop the storm in its tracks.  I don't believe God works that way.  No, praying for patience, serenity, courage and wisdom so that I might face the time ahead.

Over the years I've discovered many powerful truths as I've worked with twelve-step spirituality.  And one twelve-step slogan seems especially appropriate today.  Zero expectations. Not denial.  It is important to acknowledge the realities we face in life.  But we should avoid both debilitating negativity and false hope.  There are all sorts of possibile outcomes over the next few days, but they are beyond our control.  Yes, we need to prepare.  But beyond that, we must wait it out, trusting that God will give us the strength to handle things as they come along.

I also have taken great comfort in the Serenity Prayer.  I am convinced it holds the key to how we can move through these challenging times.  God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change--like when and where the hurricane will hit, like how strong it will be when it passes over us, like what sort of damage will be incurred.  I cannot change those things, and I will be far more serene if I accept that reality. Courage to change the things I can--like the preparations we've already undertaken, like my willingness to work with others as part of a term, like my attitude and behavior.  Courage, after all, is fear that has said its prayers. Wisdom to know the difference--which requires a measure of patience and a willingness to listen to others.

When I was a seminarian my school's president once wrote in a letter of reference that I needed to learn patience.  In many ways, I am still taking that course almost forty years later.  But with the help of these simple twelve-step concepts, and the grace of God, I am learning every day a bit more about what it means to wait.
 

Might your waiting be blessed with patience, serenity, courage and wisdom.  Might it be blessed by God's grace.

On Dealing with Fear

It was during the 1932 presidential campaign that Franklin Delano Roosevelt famously said, "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself."  In the midst of the Great Depression, as millions faced poverty, unemployment, displacement from their homes, and so on, it was a rather brash thing to say.  Yet he got elected, and in time, the economy did improve. Setting aside the fact that many historians believe what really pulled us out of the Depression was World War II,  the reality was people did go back to work, and a sense of purpose returned to the nation.

I suppose it could be argued that Roosevelt was able utter such a bromide because he was among the financially secure of his day.  He wasn't unemployed.  He wasn't impoverished.  He hadn't lost his home. But still, he was speaking a real truth that is important for us to hear on this particular day here in Florida, across the nation and around the world.  For there are some real threats out there: the increasing concern about the sabre rattling with North Korea and the possibility of nuclear war; the uncertainty faced by so many children and young people who may lose the protections they have received under DACA; the wild fires out west, the aftermath of Hurricane Harvey and the concerns about  Hurricane Irma.  It is all very frightening.

But that said, what next?  If we allow fear to overtake us, if we become paralyzed by our anxieties and concerns, then we are sunk.  Fear itself has done us in.  But if we acknowledge our fears, recognize that they are real, turn them over to God and ask for a greater ability to identify what we can do to help address them, then we are on our way to dealing with the matters at hand. 

Eleven years before Roosevelt was campaigning for President, a poem by Karle Wilson Baker was published in Poetry:  A Magazine of Verse.  It's a short little bit of poetry called "Courage".  It's final two lines are a powerful reminder for all of us in these anxious times as well:

 

Courage is Fear

That has said its prayers.

 

Might you be courageous in the days ahead.