Why I "unfriended" a "friend"

I "unfriended" someone on Facebook this week.  As with many "friends," I had known this individual and worked and worshiped with him a few times over the past several years, but he was not what I consider a true friend.  Facebook simply doesn't have an "acquaintance" tag.

This man was a committed Presbyterian, and had been very active in the annual, summer gatherings known as Synod School in the Synod of Lakes and Prairies.  Imagine my shock, surprise, and, actually, revulsion, when I saw that he posted this saying on his wall:  "Everything I needed to know about Islam I learned in five minutes on Sept. 11, 2001."  I trust you understand my immediate, visceral reaction.  Like so many - TOO many - others, this man painted every Muslim, along with some 1400 years of Islamic history and tradition, by the actions of a few fanatics.

Just imagine if folks said the following:

·      "Everything I needed to know about Christianity I learned by studying the barbarity of the Crusades."

·      "Everything I needed to know about the Roman Catholic Church I learned by studying medieval popes."

·      "Everything I needed to know about Calvinism I learned when I read this sentence he wrote: 'I have never seen either a drop of piety or a grain of truth or ingenuousness – nay, I have never found common sense in any Jew.'"

·      "Everything I needed to know about the Church in the United States I learned by watching 'good Christians,' most in white sheets, lynch black people."

A dear friend of mine, now deceased, used to say that there are "quotable moments" in people's lives... times or occasions or events by which you will be remembered.  Let's not give anyone who is a guest in one of our congregations, or who watches us pray in public, or who hears our affirmations of faith in the Risen Christ, any reason to question the veracity of what we believe and the One in whom we place our trust.  And, needless to say, let us never, ever view entire groups of people based on the actions of a few.

I'll Ride with You

I still find myself reeling from the news about the killings of so many, many school children, along with a few adults, in the school in Pakistan.  When I was in college in a small Presbyterian school in the middle of Kansas, some of my friends were MK's (Missionary Kids), and two or three of them were from Pakistan - although it was called West Pakistan at that time in history.  (East and West Pakistan were two predominantly Muslim regions that were formed at the partition of India in 1947.  West Pakistan ultimately became simply Pakistan, and East Pakistan became the country now known as Bangladesh).  The Presbyterian Church has had a long history of mission partnership with the people of Pakistan.  That still continues; the daughter of some very close friends is now in Pakistan as a volunteer with the Presbyterian Education Board there.  So when I hear of such despicable violence, especially in a country that I feel even only distant connection with, it breaks my heart.

Other people, of course, have different reactions to such violence, particularly when carried out by extremists who call themselves Muslim.  You may have heard of the Twitter movement happening now, using the hashtag #Illridewithyou. (For you non-Twitter folks, a hashtag simply makes any subject matter easily trackable, so that you can find out what others all over the world are writing about an issue; and #Illridewithyou translates as "I'll ride with you.")  Here is the background of the story from BBC:

"As a gunman holds people hostage in a cafe in Sydney thousands of messages of support have been posted online for Muslims in Australia who are afraid of an Islamophobic backlash.

"The spark was this post on Facebook by Rachael Jacobs, who said she'd seen a woman she presumed was Muslim silently removing her hijab while sitting next to her on the train: 'I ran after her at the train station. I said "put it back on. I'll walk with u." She started to cry and hugged me for about a minute - then walked off alone.

"The story of Rachael's encounter with a woman in religious attire inspired this Twitter user, 'Sir Tessa', aka Tessa Kum: "If you reg take the #373 bus b/w Coogee/MartinPl, wear religious attire, & don't feel safe alone: I'll ride with you. @ me for schedule," user 'Sir

Tessa' tweeted. Moments later she tweeted "Maybe start a hashtag? What's in #illridewithyou?"

Especially since it's Advent, all of this got me thinking about the significant meanings of this time of year for us as Christians.  Specifically, we affirm our trust, our belief, our need to marvel again at the message of the Incarnation... that God decided not just to love us from afar, not just to pity us as we fumble our way through a broken and hurting world, but decided to throw in with us: totally, completely, irrevocably.  God decided to not just be with us but to become one of us.  Isn't that as if God looked at how we stumbled along in this creation, wreaking havoc in our relationships and in our world, sparking wars and unspeakable violence, and, despite all evidence to the contrary, decided that we were worth loving and saving anyhow?  It's as if God, in essence, said "It's okay.  Don't be afraid.  'I'll ride with you' in and through this world."

"And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us."  Indeed.