An Open Letter to Rep. John Katko re guns

Dear Representative Katko:

I am writing to you concerning the issue of gun control laws in our nation. I do not own a gun now, but I have in the past. I grew up in a family of hunters, and I both understand and support the ownership of guns used in hunting. However, I cannot begin to fathom any supposed justification for the ownership of so-called assault weapons and equipment related to them (e.g., bump stocks, high-capacity magazines, etc.).

Despite the fact that a vast majority of Americans support restrictions on the types of weapons allowed to be purchased and owned, and also support stronger background checks before individuals are allowed to purchase weapons, the vast majority of elected government leaders, including yourself, seem incapable and unwilling to break away from the inordinate influence of organizations like the National Rifle Association. What will it take, Mr. Katko, for you to change your position on this vital matter of national (and personal) security? How many more times will our schools be turned into war zones where innocent children and adults are massacred in hallways that should be safe places for education? I try, but I truly do not understand why you would continue to vote to make sales of assault weapons legal. Please help me understand what motivates you about this. Please let me know what I could do to help you break away from the NRA lobbyists. If you were to change your positions on this, I would work to support your re-election. As it stands now, however, I will work tirelessly to support your opponent this fall.

Thank you for your consideration of my concerns.

What will I do when I grow up?

As of today, December 31, 2017, I officially retired. After over 40 years of ordained ministry in the Presbyterian Church, I'm done. Moreover, I've worked in a paying job (not counting mowing lawns, shoveling walks, or delivering newspapers as a kid) for more than 51 years! As my musician-son might say, "Dad, that's been a good gig!"

So now what? As the proverbial question asks, "What will I do when I grow up?" What older church members have said to me over the decades, I'm now finding to be true. I don't feel like I'll be 70 years old in 3 years! What will I do with the rest of my years?

In looking back over some past blog posts, I came across one I wrote in 2012. This is how the post began...

In the Omaha World-Herald today, there was an article about a retired state worker who died.  Normally, that's not news.  However, here is what made that former state worker memorable...

"Sally Gordon, often called the matriarch of the State Capitol, died early Tuesday in Lincoln.

"She was 102. Her 103rd birthday would have been March 26.

"Gordon retired last year as a sergeant-at-arms for the Nebraska Legislature... Gordon worked for three governors and was a sergeant-at-arms for 27 years."

...  That means that Sally didn't begin working as a sergeant-at-arms until she already was 74 years old!  It reminded me that perhaps it's not such a far stretch after all to imagine that Abram and Sarai responded positively to God's call to pack up and move to a whole new place when Abram was 80.  Sally might have directed him in the right way and kept everyone in order along the journey if she had been alive back then!

 I don't know what God might have in store for me yet. I have a list of things I want to do, to explore, to study, to learn, to read. My wife has her own list of things for me to do, also... though I expect that things on my list are things I'd find more enjoyable. 😊  However, I'm also sure that, as with my life to date, there will be some surprises along the way as the coming years unfold.

Hmm. What will I do when I grow up?

I am floored. I'm an extrovert, and have had decades of experience in public speaking...so
I seldom am at a loss for words. However...

However, when U.S. Representative Steve King (from Iowa) said the following, I confess
that, for a while at least, I was left pretty much speechless, mouth agape:

"I'd ask you to go back through history and figure out, where are these contributions that have been made by these other categories of people that you're talking about, where did any other subgroup of people contribute more to civilization?... It's rooted (all) in Western Europe, Eastern Europe and the United States of America and every place where the footprint of Christianity settled the world. That's all of Western civilization."  (Quoted in a July 18, 2016 online article from The Washington Post.)

Really, Mr. King? You really are going to go on television and proclaim that white, European
civilization is the only group that's made any lasting contribution to "civilization?"

Well, let me think...

• George Washington Carver, an African-American, developed 300 derivative products from peanuts among them cheese, milk, coffee, flour, ink, dyes, plastics, wood stains, soap, linoleum, medicinal oils and cosmetics.
• Lewis Howard Latimer, an African-American, invented and patented an incandescent light bulb with a carbon filament in 1881. An engineer for the Edison Company, Latimer invented the carbon filament, thus making the light bulb practical.
• Among his many other inventions, African-American Garrett Augustus Morgan invented an early traffic signal, that greatly improved safety on America's streets and roadways.
• Islamic scholars, especially in what Europeans know as the Middle Ages, kept alive such scientific fields as geometry and medicine. They gave us our current system of numbers, including the then-new concept of the number zero. They also invented the mathematical field of algebra and contributed immensely to the field of astronomy.
• Many believe that part of our American idea of representative democracy originated not so much with Presbyterian polity (although that certainly played an influence), but with our own regional influence of the Iroquois Confederacy.
• Gun powder (for weapons, as well as for fireworks) was invented during the Tang Dynasty of the 9th century in China.
• Dr. Carlos Juan Finlay, a modest Cuban physician, was the one who originated the theory that yellow fever originated with mosquitos.
• Jean-Baptiste Pointe DuSable, a black man living in the 1700s, is considered by historians to be the first permanent resident of Chicago.
• Thomas L. Jennings, the inventor credited for inventing the dry cleaning process, was the first African American to hold a U.S. patent, issued in 1821.
• African-American Frederick Jones invented the ticket dispensing machine in 1943. This invention revolutionized the transportation and entertainment industries. This Ohio inventor is credited for 61 patents, including the portable X-ray machine, the portable refrigeration unit, and the two-cycle gasoline engine.
• Dr. Charles Drew discovered a method for the preservation of blood that was used extensively during World War II by the British military to save the lives of wounded soldiers. After the war, Drew was appointed the first director of the American Red Cross Blood Bank. He was only one of many outstanding African-American scientists.
• Dr. Daniel Hale Williams performed the first successful open heart surgery in 1893 and founded Provident Hospital and Training School for Nurses (the first black-owned hospital in America) in 1891.
• The formal invention of paper can be dated exactly in the year A.D. 105, and was the work of one who should surely be honored among the great contributors to human civilization. He was Ts'ai Lun, a man attached to the Chinese imperial court.

I confess I'm just tired. I'm tired of ignorance being lauded over knowledge. I'm tired of
people who believe that their personal beliefs are "facts," just because they say so...the
preponderance of other information notwithstanding. I'm tired of racism and bigotry being
paraded as patriotism. I'm just tired.

St. Paul wrote it best, I think:

Christ is just like the human body - a body is a unit and has many parts; and all the parts of the body are one body, even though there are many.... If the foot says, "I'm not part of the body because I'm not a hand," does that mean it's not part of the body? If the ear says, "I'm not part of the body because I'm not an eye," does that mean it's not part of the body? If the whole body were an eye, what would happen to the hearing? And if the whole body were an ear, what would happen to the sense of smell? But as it is, God has placed each one of the parts in the body just like he wanted. If all were one and the same body part, what would happen to the body? But as it is, there are many parts but one body. (1 Corinthians 12:12, 15-19; CEB)

Surely we need to live out this reality in the Church. But if we also could model this,
proclaim this, insist on this in the broader society... well, wouldn't that make our lives richer
and allow us to continue to build on that beautiful, intricate mosaic that is what makes
American society strong?

Responding to violence and despondancy

A week ago this past Wednesday, 16 people - pastoral leaders, Leadership Team members, and retired teaching elders - gathered for lunch at Pebble Hill Presbyterian Church to talk about
ways to address the horrific acts of violence that took place in Baton Rouge, St. Paul, and Dallas. We all continue to reel at the seemingly relentless onslaught of these kinds of stories happening in our nation, let alone around the world. It seemed imperative that our Presbytery offer a venue to at least begin some discussions and reflections on possible ways to respond as a people of faith.

What occurred during this two-hour conversation was prayer, reflection, and sharing. We
talked about our hopes and dreams. We acknowledged our own complicity in instances of
racism. Many of the pastors present shared ways in which last Sunday's lectionary texts
fit so incredibly well - providentially even, one might say - in helping them address the
current situation. The passage from Amos 7 (including reference to God's plumb line in the
midst of the people), coupled with the Gospel passage from Luke 10 (about the Good
Samaritan...that "social outcast" who fulfilled God's law of compassion for beyond the
indifference of the religious leaders of the community) provided rich opportunities for
reflection.

To me, an interesting way in which the lunch conversation developed was that it quickly
went beyond possible responses to specific acts of violence and racism, to a discussion
about the whole tenor of our society, of social dialogue, of dividing walls in our nation that
seem to be increasingly unbreachable, of the climate of fear that so pervades almost
everything today...including fear in the Church (we're losing members, we don't have
money, we can't afford a full-time pastoral leader, where are all the youth, etc., etc.).
Out of the conversations together on Wednesday, a few things became clear to all of us
who were present.

First, one of the preeminent theological themes in our Reformed tradition is that of grace.
God's grace is extended to us. That's symbolized most powerfully when we baptize
infants; God's grace comes to us even before we are able to understand or respond or
even accept it. And if God's grace is extended to us, it is extended to everyone,
everywhere.

Second, we acknowledged that some fear is good, even essential. Fear is a basic human
response to danger, and its purpose is to keep us safe. Fear of the Lord is essential in
helping us remember that we are accountable to God for the decisions we make, the words
we use, the actions we perform (or fail to perform). At the same time, the phrase "do not be
afraid" occurs again and again throughout Scripture. We must never let fear control us,
rule us, shape how we live our lives. One of the other great Reformed themes is an
emphasis on the providence of God. Through the worst of times and events, we can trust
that God's love and compassion and justice will prevail. Always! That doesn't excuse any
inaction on our part. In fact, that should spur us on to faithful participation in the work of
God in our world and in our lives. However, trusting in the Lord allows us not to be
paralyzed or overcome by events.

Finally, as we went around the room with different ones telling some of our own stories and
experiences, we realized that telling our stories is incredibly powerful. Telling our stories
opens us to the need for confession and repentance. Telling our stories helps others
understand a bit more about us, and listening to others' stories helps us understand them.
It is in the telling of stories that we see each other as fellow human travelers in this world,
we see each other as children of God, we see each other as individuals, not as a
representative token of any one group (racial minority, privileged individual, police, rich,
poor, immigrant, educated, uneducated, etc.).

It's easy to become overwhelmed by the magnitude of the tragedies that we hear about
again and again, all too frequently. And it can feel disempowering when we think the whole
society's problems are ours to fix and make right. What we can do, perhaps what we must
do, is simply begin by telling our stories, and by listening to others' stories. It is the silence
that kills and condemns us. It is speaking and acting together, with those right around us,
that can begin to shine light in a world of frightening shadows. And perhaps one of the
things our worshiping communities can offer is to provide a safe place for such
conversations to take place.

Let's begin. Together.

Opening Worship at #GA222

It’s the hymns that always get to me.  The opening worship of this year’s General Assembly was no exception.  Imagine joining with hundreds of voices in worship and praise and prayer… accompanied by local musicians who made up the vocal choir, the handbell and chime choir, all accompanied by piano and organ.  Imagine standing in line, reverently waiting to be nourished by bread and cup as we remembered the presence of the Risen Christ in our midst.

As the worship began, water, cup, bread, and candle were processed in.  During the call to worship all present prayed: “We praise you, the three-in-one God. Without you we will not make it through the week.  You are ‘The Hope in Our Calling’ in the cascading waters of baptism.”  In other parts of the liturgy, we were called to remember our baptism in the words, “Be people of the water! Travel wet!”

Orlando and Charleston were mentioned at the very beginning of Moderator Heath Rada’s sermon as he reflected upon the biblical stories of Joseph and brothers and of the Prodigal Son.  So many of his words resonated deeply in me and in the hearts of those around me, as evidenced by moist eyes, quiet “amens,” heads nodding in agreement and affirmation.  Some of his words that so touched me:

·      “The Father in the story of the Prodigal Son was not open to negotiation.  Unconditional love and welcome were his choices.”

·      “The question for us all is, ‘Do we want to be found?’”

·      “We’re called to be a renewed family. That takes courage. Will you embrace it?”

·      “Go into the world as a work in progress… The world will be better because you are in it!”

The person sitting next to me, teaching elder commissioner Nancy Young from Newton Presbytery, reflected on the why this opening worship service was so important to her.  “The Presbyterian Church is a small church.  We come here from big churches and small.  But here we are in a worship service that is over-the-top expansive…. This is my family.  And we get to worship God together, as the Body of Christ.”

We were reminded that people from around the world – literally – were joining us in worship.  I know people in my own Presbytery in Central New York were gathered around computer screens, live-streaming the worship, able to participate through the online worship bulletin that was available from GA.  I was so aware of that as we celebrated Communion, remembering the words, “People will come from north and south, from east and west, and sit at Table in the realm of God.”

Working in the Church can sometimes be a lonely venture.  Today, once again, I was powerfully reminded that I am not alone.  Not ever.  Around me was my church family – most of whom I had not met – but they were family nonetheless.  And God embraced us all.  As Heath reminded us: “You are loved so much.  It’s as if God has nothing else to do!”

"How long, O Lord?"

The Psalms of our Hebrew Scriptures always have constituted the Prayer Book of the
people of God. In the Christian tradition, psalms have been read and prayed during
services of Morning Prayer and Evening Prayer for centuries. Monks and nuns read and
pray the psalms several times each day, working through all 150 Psalms every two weeks.
Billy Graham once suggested that everyone read through the Psalms every month,
reading five each day.

As I have read and prayed the psalms for years, sometimes I find that it almost seems to
be a non-thinking routine. Other times, each psalm seems to be alive and filled with power
and wonder and meaning. Other times, a psalm seems to be just utterly detestable... take,
for example, the last verse of Psalm 137!

Author, pastor, and theologian, Eugene Peterson, reminds us that the psalms are there to
help us pray in ways we otherwise might not, to give voice to negative emotions we might
be tempted to deny, to give us words to pray when we have no words of our own.
Ever since the events in Orlando of last Sunday morning, when so many innocent people
were systematically gunned down, I have tried to find words to pray. When the horror of
such a blatant attack on members and allies of the LGBTQ community - especially during
Pride Month - began to force its way past my initial disbelief that something like this could
happen, I have tried to find words to pray. As I have reached out to friends far and wide
who are a part of the LGBTQ community, and as I have heard their pain, their grief, their
fear, I have tried to find words to pray.

At times, my prayers seemed to just tumble out of my mouth and heart in a torrent of
compassion and love and pain and heartache and anger. At times, I simply sat in silence,
trying to hold those in pain within the embrace of God's love and light. At times, words
completely failed me.

Consistently, though, these words from Psalm 13, have echoed within me:

"How long, O LORD? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I bear pain in my soul, and have sorrow in my heart all day long?"

Usually, these words have been abbreviated to this two-word, piercing question and
prayer: "How long?"

I want God to DO something! I want God to take away pain and fear from those who are
suffering! I want God to beat some sense into our lawmakers! I want God to stop people
from perpetrating this mind-boggling violence! I just want God to STOP IT ALL!

"How long, O Lord," I cry! How long until justice is realized? How long until love reigns
supreme? How long until "the kingdoms of this world become the kingdom of our Lord, who
shall reign forever and ever?" "How long, O Lord?"

And then I realize that God has not abandoned us. God has not left us solely to our own
devices. God has not ceased to love and care and stand with us. God carries our pain,
and shares in it. God holds our tears, and sheds divine tears right with us. God wraps us
in grace and compassion, even when/if we're not aware of that.

And then I realize something else. "How long" is not just a question that I am asking of God.
"How long" also is a question that I must ask of myself...that we all must ask of ourselves.
"How long" will WE put up with conditions that lead to this kind of horror and tragedy?

I don't know the answers to much of this. But I do know that I have to continue to ask this
question to the Lord: "How long?" And I know that we have to ask ourselves that very same
question.

Praying for you to experience anew love, grace, comfort... and even hope.

Thoughts on disagreement...as Christians, as Presbyterians

I am angered, and hurt, and sad...but mostly sad, I suppose.

A colleague Stated Clerk, whom I have known for decades, and who I respect and value as
a colleague and friend, shared some comments about a committee of the General
Assembly, of which I am a member, not only questioning our written statements about
some of the issues coming to this year's Assembly, but using terms that were dismissive at
best, derisive at worst, of the careful, deliberative work of the committee. I have responded
to this individual in writing, and asked that we make some time soon to talk together
directly, either in person (perhaps even at the Assembly in Portland) or at least by phone.
Our relationship is such that I trust such a conversation will be able to take place.

All of this got me wondering, however. If a close and valued colleague in the Church of
Jesus Christ can write things that sting like that...well, I suppose this is indicative of the kinds
of things we see more and more frequently in our broader society.

Disagreeing with someone's opinion about an issue rarely can seem to take place without
viewing that other person as "stupid," "uninformed," "ignorant." One can scarcely express
a different viewpoint from someone without being attacked, shamed, or ridiculed. We see it
in national political discourse. We see it in our communities. Sadly - and shamefully, I
believe - we sometimes see it within the Body of Christ, the Church.

In the powerful and helpful document of our Church from the 204th General Assembly
(1992) of the Presbyterian Church, "Seeking to be Faithful Together: Guidelines for
Presbyterians During Times of Disagreement," the Church calls us to:

• "Treat each other respectfully so as to build trust, believing that we all desire to be faithful to Jesus the Christ;" and
• "Focus on ideas and suggestions instead of questioning people's motives, intelligence or integrity."

The entire document is well worth your read. I've posted it on our Presbytery's website, and you can read it here.

How might our congregations, our Presbytery, the Church, even our society, be different if
we adopted simply the above two bullet points? I sometimes confess to being naive about
human nature - even though I am a confirmed Calvinist! - yet I don't believe that many
people get out of bed in the morning, thinking, "Who can I vilify today? Who can I make look
really stupid today?" We can do better. We are called to be better. We simply must act
better!

Christ calls us to disagree more compassionately and more faithfully with each other. And
the Church extends that invitation to each of us... to all of us.