This Beginning

This day, this beginning
sings of possibilities
and I rush to greet them.
Just as the sun anxiously awaits the dawn,
so I have eagerly anticipated
this day, this beginning.

Reaching for the doorknob to fling open
this day, this beginning,
I pause—
Is that a cloud on the horizon,

a potential what-if,
a snag in the perfection?

It may not work as I had anticipated,
this day, this beginning,
this new possibility.
There is a fear here—no, several fears

that I was avoiding,
dreading, denying.

Be with me, I can only ask,
in this day, this beginning,
to reassure me.
Surround me with confidence,
instill your strength within me,
bless me and guide me in
this day, this beginning.

Choosing Sides

In liberal Protestantism, there is a growing spirit of ecumenism–that cooperative, non-judgmental perspective that allows us to honor and affirm the traditions, perspectives, belief systems, and life choices of a diverse global community. Yet within this “room for all” spirit, too often we hesitate to assert our own faith and views for fear of looking like religious extremists (for liberal Protestants, any parallels to the Christian Right are anathema).

And so when a situation arises in which we must choose a side and declare a definitive position (or else choose silence, which is a “side” in its own way), many Protestants become guilt-ridden and uncertain. How can we know that we are on the right side? Implied question: Aren’t we just as bad as “them” for asserting our right-ness and righteousness in a given situation?

This past Saturday afternoon, I stood (literally on the other side of the fence) watching protestors at an LGBT Pride festival. Their signs and t-shirts said such things as: “Jesus Saves From Hell” and “Homosexuality Is A Sin.” The protestors told families entering the festival that they were going to hell; they shouted “It’s not too late…repent!” to same-gender couples. And when I carried a rainbow umbrella with Silent Witness PA (www.silentwitnesspa.org) at the festival gates in support of those entering the festival, one protestor mocked the silent witnesses, saying that our umbrellas wouldn’t save us when the world came to an end and fire rained from heaven.

Several of the festival-goers I spoke with that day were visibly disturbed. How can the protestors say those things? How can they yell at children? How can they believe in that kind of God? …..and that nagging question, how do we know we’re right? To one person who asked me this last question, I replied (perhaps too glibly) that I’m willing to go to hell if I’m wrong for being pro-gay. But I, too, couldn’t immediately shake the protestors’ shouts from my mind on Saturday evening. I might accuse the protestors of erroneous biblical interpretation, but they would only say the same (and more) of my interpretation. Is it all relative? If/When we move past our liberal universalism and choose sides, do we have any assurance of right-ness with God?

Years ago, on a wall in the office of my college chaplain, there was a beautiful, poetic quotation that I read often. These days, I only remember the first two lines and that the author was a Sister So-and-So. But it read:
Choose life–only that and always–
And at whatever cost.
We must remember, and we must claim, that taking the name “Christian” means that we are choosing a side. Granted, there are many people who claim this side, but mainstream and liberal Protestants too often sit on the fence (and/or sit in silence) for fear of offending or creating waves. To claim the side of Christian, I believe, involves claiming and proclaiming the side of life….tangible, incarnate life….
life that nurtures,
life that celebrates,
life that understands resurrection after death in everyday living,
life that pays attention to and works to lift up the oppressed and discouraged,
life that resists the lethargy of the status quo and the greed of the powerful.

The protestors at the Pride Festival missed the mark by preaching a kind of “good news” that preserved the status quo, that upheld the position of the privileged (white heterosexual men), that relied on scare tactics, that proclaimed judgment at the expense of justice, damnation at the expense of celebrating life. The good news of Jesus is not disconnected from this incarnate life:
“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
and recovery of sight to the blind,
to let the oppressed go free,
to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” (Luke 4:18)
As long as I am able, this is the good news that I will proclaim and the side that I will choose.

On Faith and Water

Beloved, you are the holy water washing me clean.
I bathe in your cooling grace, praying for comfort
yet finding waves of change.
Only in the mercy of your hand is the water a blessing.
The drops baptize and refresh me beyond expression.
Water surrounds me, still and strong.
My cup overflows.

The water blesses my life with joy and hope.
When the water is turbulent and stormy,
it is the Beloved One bringing me to a new place.

The downpour washes away all that I once knew.
I am left alone with the Beloved in new water.
I wade into this space, alternately timid and bold.
My cup overflows.

Each day I step into the water’s storms and caresses.
If only I could be more confident in my wading,
more intentional as I navigate the pool.

But the gifts of the water are grace and mercy.
I am afloat in the bounty of the Beloved’s love.
How can I doubt the healing of the water?
My cup overflows!