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Why I Go to Pride

Tonight (June 26, 2021), LGBTQ+ Rolla is hosting our town’s first Pride event, a picnic at Schuman Park lower pavilion (6-8 pm). This has been in the works for a while. There is no agenda besides music and hanging out, but people may have the opportunity to tell their story. I thought I’d share something here as I gather my thoughts.

My path to tonight’s event started about eight years ago. Susan Murray, an elder at my church who is lesbian, wanted to do something for the LGBT community on campus. She enlisted me to spearhead it. That effort didn’t go very far but it started me on this path.

Apparently, God was getting me ready, because a year or so later, my daughter came out. That changed my perspective, but at least I was partially prepared. I had already educated myself on terms and concepts, and I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that God loves her.

38 For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, 39 nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Romans 8:38-39

Time passed. I got just a glimpse of the barriers that someone queer in small-town Missouri faces. Beyond reading books and articles, I talked with other queer individuals in an attempt to understand their perspective.

Ultimately, I concluded that what Rolla needs is a focal point, a place where someone who doesn’t fit society’s expectations about sexual orientation, gender identity, or gender expression can find someone else who is fighting the same stereotypes. As a straight, cisgender, white man, I will NEVER understand their challenges, and hope that I do not project an attitude that I’m some sort of savior for the queer community. However, I am driven to do whatever I can to help out.

Last summer, things started moving in the right direction. I connected with Onyx Russ, who is now the president of LGBTQ+ Rolla, and a few others with similar interests. We were moving towards a big event in October, but that just couldn’t happen. We fell back on Zoom gatherings and built a little momentum, so now we’re ready for a Pride event.

I hope this isn’t the end, but the beginning. I hope that someday, I can fade further into the background as LGBTQ+ individuals have the time and energy to take more leadership roles. I hope that someday, we have an LGBTQ+ center in Rolla to combat the negative stereotypes promulgated by so many organizations and individuals, a place where someone who is struggling with acceptance can come and be themselves. But for now, I just hope that we have a peaceful, joyful gathering where everyone can enjoy being who they are.

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The Best Virtual APEC Ever!

For more than a decade, I have been involved with the organizing committee of the IEEE Applied Power Electronics Conference. I was general chair in 2017. We typically have around 5000 attendees; perhaps 1500 are paid attendees and the remainder attend the free exposition that has upwards of 200 companies exhibiting. Being general chair was one of the high points of my career and my life. The peak was the social event. It was held in a city park and had a wide variety of activities, from a dance floor to giant chess to cornhole to hand-rolled cigars. Engineers aren’t known as partiers, but the cops had to come at the end to tell us it was time to go.

APEC was pretty good in 2018 and 2019, too. Then 2020 came. APEC is held in March; we had to cancel the in-person event about a week before the conference. Dealing with the ensuing mess took months. In the midst of the aftermath, Conor Quinn, the general chair for 2021, asked if I would look into virtual and hybrid aspects “just in case.” Last summer, it was all very hypothetical. Surely, we thought, we will be able to hold an in-person event in 2021. Ha!

We postponed from the original March date to June, but we still had to pivot to virtual. Although the local conditions at the original conference site (Phoenix) were OK, APEC draws an international audience; when we had to make the decision, there was NO WAY we would get international attendees.

Well, the virtual conference just ended. On the one hand, it was a pale shadow of a “real” APEC. On the other hand, it far exceeded my expectations. We had good paid and free registration, good attendance at the live/Zoom events, and good engagement on the conference platform (Social27). Many people said it was the best virtual conference they had attended.

What makes APEC so wonderful every year is the people. Yes, I come away every year with pages of notes that have new ideas to pursue, new products to consider, etc. But really, what I value is engaging with “my people.” APEC draws a unique blend of academics and industry practitioners that gives it a different flavor than most conferences in my field. I had a chance to reconnect with a colleague who worked at Baldor with me 20 years ago. In the somewhat informal technical sessions, I was able to interact with people I only see once a year, renewing our relationships that are built on both mutual respect and a shared worldview.

The organizing committee and steering committee (on both of which I serve) are composed of people with both academic and industry roots and a shared love for APEC. While the conference sponsors are concerned primarily about the financial impact of our decisions, the committee is concerned first and foremost with the choices that will keep APEC the amazing experience it is. We recognize that maintaining the quality of the technical program, the exposition, and all of the other activities, along with opportunities for researchers and practitioners to create and nurture relationships, is essential to the long-term health of the conference.

I think there’s a message in that for all organizations, whether a business, a university, or a church. An organization needs people in leadership whose highest priority is the health of the organization, not their own glory. Leaders need to value both the programs and the people. If you have bad programs, you might as well close up shop; if you do not develop deep relationships between people, the programs will never be enough to keep people engaged.

I have seen that process at Missouri S&T. Some people develop deep ties with the community and across campus, like I have. They tend to be lifers. Every university goes through down cycles; we had a time a few years ago when practically all of the campus administrators were interim appointments. The people who stayed were those who valued the network of relationships they had developed. On the other hand, some faculty come, build a research program in their own lab, and do not seriously engage with other faculty. They use their time here to strengthen their resume, and then they move on. The task before each leader is to figure out how to encourage these rising stars to develop networks across campus so that (a) they contribute more to the campus mission and (b) they realize the value in staying.

Zoom is a wonderful technology. It enables meetings that otherwise cannot occur, whether due to social distancing requirements, travel restrictions, or limited time. Zoom meetings are sufficient for sustaining progress on projects and maintaining existing relationships. But Zoom is terrible for developing new relationships, personal or professional. It is my hope that as we emerge from pandemic conditions, I remember, and we all remember, how important it is to forge new relationships. In this way, we build a society that is truly a community, not just a collection of individuals.

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Old Friends, New Friends

Over the past week, I have been blessed with opportunities to talk with old friends and new. Last weekend, I attended my wife’s nephew’s wedding. I’m not normally a big fan of wedding receptions—too noisy, too crowded, too much sitting around waiting for something to happen—but this time was different for some reason. I was really touched by both the wedding itself and the time I spent with my wife’s family, including its newest member. I was reminded how wonderful it is to spend your life with the person you love.

Families are strange things. They are a combination of people you chose—your spouse, your kids—and those that were not optional—your parents, cousins, in-laws, etc. At an event like a wedding, everyone is united in purpose: blessing the new couple’s life. Beyond that, there are some shared experiences and perspectives, and then some wildly different ones. Even if you disagree with or dislike each other, though, you are all bound together.

One good thing about a wedding is that it brings people together who maybe haven’t seen each other in a while. That is especially true now, after more than a year of pandemic-related separation. There were people at the wedding that I would normally see at Thanksgiving, Christmas, or deer season, but didn’t. It was great to re-connect.

I also had lunch twice with a dear friend of mine, once just the two of us and once to introduce me to one of his friends. He is someone I trust and respect immensely. He is a colleague from campus, so he can help me navigate the complex life of an academic. As I told him, I am transitioning now from being a highly-accomplished junior faculty member to one of the least accomplished senior faculty members, so I’m trying to figure out what’s next in my career. More importantly, though, I treasure his spiritual counseling.

Like a family member, he and I don’t always agree with each other. However, we both have Christ as our centers. We are both also humble enough to acknowledge that we may be wrong. We’re just trying to figure things out, and as academics, we recognize that learning happens over time. If you meet someone who is 100% confident that they know exactly what God wants for them (and for you), what God’s nature is, and what the Bible means, RUN. That path leads to a cult, not to God.

We are all on different paths. I believe that all of us are on a path that ultimately leads to God. We cannot get there on this side of death, and many people need some time on the far side of death to fully accept the grace that God has given us through Christ. And yet, all of us can approach the kingdom of God.

14 Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, 15 and saying, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.”

Mark 1:14-15

Jesus preached that the kingdom of God is at hand, so we can access it now. Those two lunches I had—that was a glimpse of the kingdom of God. The wedding and reception—that was a glimpse.

What does it mean to repent? There are many opinions; here’s mine. To fully enter the kingdom of God, a person must be 100% aligned with God’s will. We must love one another as God does, as Jesus demonstrated. That is impossible for us on our own, but possible if we allow God to change us and guide us. We can never reach 100%, but repentance is a turning towards God’s will, aligning some small part of ourselves with God’s love. We all take different paths, determined by our life experiences. I may be “ahead” of you in some aspects and “behind” you in others. When we encounter each other with an openness, a vulnerability, a willingness to be changed, we can each turn a portion of ourselves towards God.

I have often heard it said that a prophet’s role is to “comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable.” Both tasks are necessary to encourage everyone to reach their full potential as a child of God. People who are hurting are people who God loves, and so should I. People who accept the way that the world is, because it serves them well, need to see the pain, the grief, the poverty, and the struggles of their fellow travelers, to know that the whole creation is groaning in labor pains, yearning for the fulfillment of God’s kingdom. May God bless you with comfort where you are hurting and remove from me the blindness I have to the needs of this world.

Program note: I am the secretary of LGBTQ+ Rolla. We are hosting Rolla Pride on June 26, 6-8 pm, in Schuman Lower Pavilion. Hope you can join us!

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Love Without Possession

When I run, I listen to audiobooks. Recently, for the third time, I listened to The Jesuit Guide to (Almost) Everything, by Father James Martin, SJ. The basic principle is that the Ignatian way, that is, the path laid out by Ignatius Loyola for the Society of Jesus, is useful for everyone who seeks a deeper spiritual life. The book covers a wide range of topics, including a few chapters on the basic vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience.

Loyola’s original writings in the 16th century give chastity short shrift, but Martin brings a modern perspective on relationships to bear on this concept. He goes beyond the simplistic mapping of chastity to celibacy. Instead, he talks about chaste love as the root of almost all relationships, such as friendship.

Chaste love is a love without possession. It is a recognition that you and the other person have a connection, but it is not exclusive and not controlling. As I read Martin’s insights on friendship, I recognized some mistakes I have made in the past. Every relationship needs balance; there have certainly been times when I have asked more of my friends than was reasonable. I have been a taker more than a giver. I have ignored my friends’ other commitments, relationships, interests, and desires, prioritizing my own needs instead. I would like to think that I’m a better friend now than I have been in the past, partly due to improved mental and spiritual health, but it is always a work in progress.

God has a way of speaking to me through books and life experiences, in ways that are not so obvious at the time. As I listened to this section of the book, I figured it was God’s way of gently chiding me for my past deficiencies and encouraging me on a path to better, healthier friendships.

Then a close friend told me she was moving away. I am still working towards accepting the reality of the situation. But the concept to which I’m clinging as hard as I can is love without possession. Friends must be free to grow and change. They must be free to live and to love as they are able, not as I would want them to. God places a claim on each person’s life; that claim is higher than any claim I might make.

Francis Xavier was one of the founders of the Society of Jesus. He and Loyola were extremely close friends. Still, there came a time when they both recognized the need for Xavier to leave on a missionary journey to the Far East. Loyola, as the head of the order, had the authority to send Xavier or not, according to his discernment and will. He knew that if Xavier departed, they may never see each other again. Still, he knew that God’s claim on Xavier was higher than his own. Sadly, after Xavier departed, he never returned, dying on an island near China and being buried in India.

I’m sure that Loyola had regrets. I’m sure that he missed his friend. Still, he allowed Xavier to follow his calling, to live and grow as he thought best. In the same way, I need to accept the call God has placed on my friend and allow her to follow it confidently.

Life is full of these separations. Both of my kids are in college now; it’s only a matter of time before they establish their own independent lives. Some of my colleagues on campus are essentially permanent Rolla residents, but many others have departed over the past decade or have shown that they are likely to leave in the near future. (In fact, this is the time of year when I expect to hear about resignations and retirements.) Each person that leaves takes a little part of me with them, I hope, and leaves a little part of themselves behind with me. I pray that I can accept what I cannot change, living in the confidence that one day, we will all be gathered together in God’s eternal kingdom.

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Dreaming of God’s Kingdom

Preached at First Presbyterian Church of Rolla. Based on John 15:26-16:15, Acts 2:1-21.

When I was in grad school, I took a course one semester titled, “A Differential Geometric Approach to Nonlinear Control.” The course started with a discussion of manifolds, diffeomorphisms, Lie brackets and Lie derivatives, and so forth. For about six weeks, I sat in the class and listened as if it were a foreign language. One day, it suddenly all made sense. Unfortunately, that experience didn’t stick with me, and when I’ve looked in that textbook, I can only read about a page before my eyes roll back in my head.

Many people have that same experience if they study theology. Probably even most people here today. If we were in a Sunday School class and I told you that I use a hermeneutic of love, you would probably miss the word “love” and get hung up on “hermeneutic.” Calvin taught us about predestination, but theologians have been untangling that concept ever since. Salvation, justification, sanctification—what do we mean? What does it mean to “be saved”? Saved from what? Justification—isn’t that something to do with typing and margins?

Then there are some more common words you might hear around a congregation—like the word “congregation,” instead of “crowd” or “audience.” Only church people use “fellowship” as a verb. We use the word “mission” to mean something different than in the corporate world, and for that matter, many congregations use it to mean something more like “charity.” Before I was asked to serve on it, I had never heard of a “session” as being a committee.

I am in the business of using precise language. I know how important it is to distinguish between, say, energy and power. But I also know that jargon and insider language have a way of erecting barriers. Language becomes a way to signal that “we,” whoever that “we” might be, are distinct from “they,” or from “you.” It’s a way to send a subtle signal of tribal membership. Like, we’re church people and if you can’t understand us, then you don’t belong here.

But how do these words and concepts bring us closer to God? More importantly, how do they speak to the world at large? If you read or watch the news, you will see endless stories of the troubles in our community, state, nation, and world. Poverty, homelessness, and crime. A raging pandemic that has resulted in millions of hospitalizations and deaths, and has led to loneliness and isolation for millions more. Political conflict that even creates barriers between friends and within families. Oppression based on race, ethnicity, religion, gender, gender identity, and sexual orientation. Uneven wealth, both within our nation and among the nations of the world, where 9% of the world’s population survives on less than $2 per day. If you are homeless, what does salvation mean? If you have been marginalized because of who you are, rather than what you have done, what does justification mean?

Ancient Judea was also such a world. The once-mighty nation of Israel was an occupied province of the Roman empire. The Jews were oppressed because of their religion. There was continuous political unrest, with divisions between the zealots and those who worked to appease the Roman occupiers. The Holy Spirit was poured out upon this turmoil to erase these divisions. The disciples were empowered to preach “God’s deeds of power,” a message the gathered crowd was ready to hear. They spoke of God’s ability to change the world and to heal their nation. To unite everyone and welcome everyone into God’s family.

On the day of Pentecost, the disciples were all together. This was the birth of the Christian church, a single body of Christ. Ever since then, we have been finding reasons to split up. The most recent divisions have emerged over issues of social justice, women’s roles, sexual orientation, and gender identity. Some people respond by saying, “Teach tolerance.” That is grossly insufficient. Tolerance is to say that a person is wrong, but you will overlook their wrongness. Can you imagine saying to a close family member—a spouse, parent, or child—that you “tolerate” them? I hope I never reach that point. The next level up is “acceptance.” Acceptance is an acknowledgement of difference with just a hint of judgment. Kind of like saying, “I love you anyway.” There is still division and distinction. How about “welcome”? It has become somewhat common for churches to say, “All are welcome.” First of all, saying it doesn’t make it true. Secondly, what does that mean? “Welcome” to what? Welcome to sit in the sanctuary? I’m glad churches are saying that their ushers aren’t acting as bouncers. Welcome—but looked at as guests and outsiders? And who is “all”? For centuries, “all” has had an asterisk: all people who fit a certain demographic, who look and act a certain way. In modern churches, the usual distinctions are related to sexual orientation and gender identity, as well as age and class.

The Holy Spirit led the disciples to be not only welcoming, but also inclusive. The gathered crowd was divided by language, so the Holy Spirit enabled the disciples to speak to each person in the language they could understand. Peter quotes the prophet Joel’s apocalyptic vision of inclusion. The spirit would be poured out upon everyone, regardless of age, gender, or social class. In the same way, the Holy Spirit calls us to spread the Gospel to everyone and include them—truly include them—in Christ’s body, which is the church.

What does it mean to be inclusive? I found a good definition on a site called “Humor That Works.”

An organization is inclusive when everyone has a sense of belonging; feels respected, valued and seen for who they are as individuals; and feels a level of supportive energy and commitment from leaders, colleagues, and others so that all people–individually and collectively–can do their best work.

Humor That Works

Although describing a business or non-profit, this definition works pretty well for a church, too. An inclusive church values each person for who they are as an individual. People are not pigeonholed according to their demographic category, but are valued for the particular ways they have been blessed by God and the particular ways they are blessings to others. This is not to imply that their gender, ethnicity, age, or sexual orientation is meaningless. It is to acknowledge that those characteristics have influenced the experiences that person has had, but do not define their gifts or the ways they can be a part of Christ’s body.

Every church struggles with inclusion in some way. The evangelical movement is still struggling with the roles that women may take. Beth Moore has, for decades, led large-scale Bible studies, speaking at stadium-style events. As a Southern Baptist, though, she could never be called a preacher. Over the past few years, she has been pushing back against the culture within her denomination that treats women with disrespect. Finally in March, she broke ties with both her publisher, Lifeway, and the Southern Baptist Convention. She could no longer participate in a denomination and organization that seemed to value misogyny, nationalism, and partisan politics over the Gospel.

It’s easy for us, though, to say we’re not like that. We have a female pastor, right? Not only that, but our denomination officially allows for the ordination of gay pastors, elders, and deacons and for blessing gay marriages. Problem solved, right? Well, no. Remember, there is a spectrum from tolerance to acceptance to welcome to inclusion. Rules in the Book of Order are ultimately only the beginning. Those rules indicate tolerance or perhaps acceptance. There are plenty of PC(USA) churches out there that would struggle with calling a female pastor, and even more that wouldn’t call a gay pastor, no matter what their other gifts. I think our congregation does better than most, but there’s plenty of work to be done. There are plenty of people in our community who need to feel the love of God, who need a connection to Christ’s body, who need to hear the good news that the kingdom of God is at hand, and is available to them right here, right now.

Let me return to that day of Pentecost. In the passage, the gathered crowd lists all the places they came from. The list includes modern-day Iran, Iraq, Saudi Arabia, Egypt, Libya, Italy, and Turkey. Considering that most people traveled by foot, that’s a pretty broad swath of land. I think that answers in part the question, “Why was Jesus born 2000 years ago?” I mean, I understand why Jesus was born, but why then? Well, between the Pax Romana, the expanding shipping industry, and the vast network of Roman roads, moving around the Near East was easier than ever. It had become possible, for example, for Parthians to move from modern-day Iran to Jerusalem. By the same token, it had become possible for the first apostles to travel throughout Syria, Turkey, Greece, and North Africa.

We live in an even more connected world today. Thanks to the Internet, people can access the Gospel all around the world. I recently heard an American speaker talking about her 80-year-old Catholic mother listening to homilies from parishes around the nation and even from far-away places like India. Every week, I post both a podcast of the sermon and a video of the worship service. While we were shut down, the videos regularly received 40 or more views. Since re-opening, the number has dropped to the teens. Still, that’s a dozen people who would not otherwise be able to worship God.

Of course, that raises an obvious question: Are the people who watch the videos online truly worshipping God with us? What “counts”? I was talking recently with a dear friend of mine who lives in Ohio. She had a falling out with her local church a few years ago. Since then, her family has been essentially unchurched. But an amazing thing happened. Her brother and sister attend a church in Baltimore that started livestreaming worship last summer. She started “attending” worship because of that connection. She has since joined in a monthly faith formation group that her sister leads. Now, she wouldn’t have been connected with that particular church without the family connection, but still, the pandemic enabled a church in Baltimore to reach someone in Ohio. I assert that she is no longer unchurched, that she is just as much a part of that worshipping community as if she lived in Baltimore.

What defines a church? What defines OUR church? The Great Ends of the Church in our Book of Order are:

  1. The proclamation of the gospel for the salvation of humankind.
  2. The shelter, nurture, and spiritual fellowship of the children of God.
  3. The maintenance of divine worship.
  4. The preservation of the truth.
  5. The promotion of social righteousness.
  6. The exhibition of the Kingdom of Heaven to the world.

The closest this list comes to requiring us to gather in a sanctuary on a Sunday morning is “the maintenance of divine worship.” However, I have been in truly wonderful worship services in the chapel, in the fellowship hall, in a city park, and in the woods. This in-person gathering is helpful for “the shelter, nurture, and spiritual fellowship of the children of God,” but there are other ways for us to connect to one another. This gathering is certainly not essential to the promotion of social righteousness or the exhibition of the Kingdom of Heaven to the world. Yes, we are, right here, right now, living in the Kingdom of Heaven, but I also experience God’s kingdom when I work at The Mission, or when I talk with a student about something in their personal life. I experienced it when I hosted a parents’ panel for LGBTQ+ Rolla, even though there was at least one atheist among us. I experience it when my family is gathered together. I experience it when I go elk hunting each year.

There are many ways to be Christ’s body, to pursue the six Great Ends of the Church. So long as we are proclaiming the gospel, preserving the truth, and promoting social righteousness, we are exhibiting God’s kingdom.

On that first Pentecost, Peter remembered the words of Joel: “your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams.” Today as we once again celebrate that ancient outpouring of the Holy Spirit, let us all dream dreams. Together let’s pursue a vision where all people are included in Christ’s body, whether they are with us physically or online or in our hearts. Let’s pursue a vision where all people are included in Christ’s body, whether or not they look or dress or think or act like us. Let’s pursue a vision where all people are included in Christ’s body, knowing the good news of unity and reconciliation that we know by the power of the Holy Spirit. Come, Holy Spirit! Amen.

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Witnesses of Grace

A sermon preached at First Presbyterian Church of Cuba. Based on Luke 24:44-53 and Acts 1:1-11.

This year, I’m using a book called The Year of the Bible, by James Davison. He was previously a Presbyterian pastor and just retired from being a professor at Pittsburgh Theological Seminary. The Year of the Bible is structured so that every day, you read a couple chapters from the Old Testament plus either a New Testament chapter or a Psalm. If you stay on top of things, you end up reading the whole Bible in a year. I slacked off in February and March, so I will have to re-do parts of it, though.

Most people who try to read the whole Bible get bogged down somewhere around Leviticus or Numbers. There is no doubt that it’s a slog. Leviticus is a bunch of rules, most of which make no sense. Numbers is full of Israelites grumbling and testing God’s patience. Again and again, God threatens to abandon them, Moses intercedes, and God relents. There are consequences, but in the end, God upholds their covenant and promises to make Israel a mighty nation in the Promised Land.

The story in Numbers is a microcosm of the whole Hebrew Bible. From the very beginning, God is present with first individuals and then tribes and nations, the fickle humans turn their back on God, and God says, “OK, I’ll forgive you THIS time, but don’t do it again.” When Judah pushes God too far, they are exiled to Babylon, but even then, God eventually relents, the exile ends, and the Temple is re-built.

In the passages preceding what we read today, the disciples are in turmoil. They think God has abandoned them yet again. Let’s review the story arc. Jesus makes his triumphant entry into Jerusalem, but then he is arrested and crucified. The disciples’ hopes for a restoration of Israel are dashed. They thought Jesus was the Messiah who would expel the Romans, cleanse the nation, and rule an earthly kingdom devoted to worshipping God. Now they know that cannot happen, for their leader is dead. The whole movement has come to an end, with everyone fleeing in fear for their lives. A few days later, they discover the tomb to be empty—they are even deprived of a grave where they can reverence their murdered leader. In the midst of their grief, Jesus appears to open their minds to understand the scriptures. First he walks with a couple disciples on the road to Emmaus, then he appears to all of the disciples gathered together. Now they understand: God’s kingdom is not an earthly regime, but instead God rules over each person’s heart. Jesus is indeed the Messiah. He has not abandoned them, but instead, will be present with them. Well, sorta: as soon as Jesus gets done teaching them, he leaves them again, but with a promise to send help. Next week, we will hear about what comes next: the Holy Spirit will descend upon the disciples. God will always be present with them, and with us. Once again, humanity has broken the covenant by killing God’s anointed one, the Messiah, Jesus Christ, but once again, God forgives.

But why? Why does this all happen? The key is in the middle of Jesus’s teachings to his disciples. “Repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things.” The Messiah had to be killed and raised so that the disciples could witness God’s ultimate forgiveness and share it with the world.

The Greek word that we translate “forgiveness” is “aphesin.” It has other connotations like freedom, deliverance, and remission. It comes from a root that is something like “sending away.” In the Presbyterian version of the Lord’s Prayer, we refer to sins as debts. They are debts to God. That’s a useful metaphor because debt is so common to us. We incur debt to buy a car or a house. Most of us carry credit cards so that we can incur debt on a moment’s notice, even for something as trivial as lunch. Meanwhile, the US government currently has an outstanding debt of $28 trillion. We are swimming in debt, just as we are swimming in sin.

Many people take out loans for college. The premise is that your college education should improve your future employability and earning potential, so you are essentially borrowing as your future self. But sometimes, things don’t work out that way. For example, when we had kids, my wife was no longer able to work, so we didn’t have her income to help pay her student loans. This is a common enough situation that there is a process in place to address it. Requesting a deferral is pretty easy. The loan continues to accrue interest, but payments are not required—yet. Still, the debt remains. This is not forgiveness, but forbearance.

For decades, real estate became increasingly valuable, so borrowing money to buy a house seemed like a fine idea. Then in 2008, suddenly the real estate market crashed and home values dropped. Suddenly, people were “upside-down” on their mortgages, meaning that they owed more debt than the house was worth. In this case, forbearance doesn’t really help. If your debt is too high, you can never pay it off.

In the bad old days, debtors’ prisons were common. Basically, if your debts exceeded your ability to pay, the government would imprison you. How the heck could someone ever get out of a debtors’ prison? In some cases, the debtor’s family would pay the debt. In other cases, the debtor became an indentured servant until they worked off their debt.

But Jesus says that we are to proclaim forgiveness, not forbearance. The word used means a total sending away of the debt. We don’t have to work it off. The debt doesn’t remain hanging over us. We are totally relieved of our debt to God. That’s great, because the debt of our sins is like an upside-down mortgage. God has been so good to us, but like the grumbling Israelites, we reject God’s goodness. We can never earn our way back into God’s heart. We must rely on forgiveness through God’s grace.

In a sense, God’s forgiveness is like a presidential pardon. In the waning days of a presidency, the outgoing president usually issues a bunch of pardons. The Constitution gives a president almost unlimited authority to forgive federal crimes. Presidential pardons are often controversial, but there is really nothing people can do except grumble. Early this year, there was some discussion about whether President Trump would issue “pre-emptive pardons,” that is, pardons for unspecified violations. This turned out to be the only real limit. A presidential pardon must be specific. It must address a particular crime.

In a similar way, Jesus teaches his disciples to preach “repentance and forgiveness.” Our sins create a barrier between us and God. They block our ability to receive God’s love. They burden us with guilt and leave us feeling unworthy. Repentance is an honest acknowledgement of our sins, an accounting of our debt. Think about the person in an upside-down mortgage. If they simply ignore the debt, they will live in perpetual fear that the bank will take their home away. But if they make an honest accounting of the debt and the bank forgives it, they can live in freedom.

Jesus taught his disciples that repentance leads to forgiveness leads to freedom. When we are freed of our debt to God, we are free to be in a deeper relationship with God. I am reminded of a scene in A Bronx Tale. The main character loaned money to someone who didn’t want to pay him back. Instead, the guy kept dodging him. If you have an outstanding debt to a friend, it hangs over the relationship and prevents you from enjoying each other’s presence. In the same way, if sin hangs over our relationship with God, we cannot enjoy God’s full presence in our lives. If instead we turn towards God and accept God’s forgiveness, we unlock the joy that God offers us.

The disciples heard this good news and responded with joy, worship, and fellowship. Verse 52, “And they worshiped him, and returned to Jerusalem with great joy; and they were continually in the temple blessing God.” Their heartache at the loss of their friend and teacher was replaced by the joy of God’s grace. They had encountered Jesus together. The encounter broke down not only the barriers between each of them and God, but also between one disciple and another.

In the same way, we each have experienced God’s grace. I have not personally had a vision of Jesus or an outpouring of the Holy Spirit like some people have, but I have had experiences of God acting in my life, times when I had an awareness that God is good, God is real, and God is still working to reconcile the world. Even if you haven’t had a direct encounter with God, you are a recipient of God’s grace and can encounter Jesus through the Bible. My God-encounters have been few and far between, but I encounter God vicariously each time I read the Bible. I read this story and imagine being a disciple, seeing Jesus’s hands, his flesh that was pierced at his crucifixion, raised in blessing. I read about Abraham or David and imagine a life of faithful devotion to the Lord’s guidance. I read Paul’s letters and imagine myself in one of those early house churches, squabbling with my fellow “baby Christians” and receiving Paul’s teaching that reveals God’s will. We are the recipients not only of God’s continuing presence, but also of thousands of years of stories about God’s work in the world.

Jesus opened his disciples’ minds to the entire Hebrew scripture—Torah, prophets, and psalms—so they could see that God’s work was all of one piece. In Genesis, we read of our expulsion from Eden and subsequent decline into depravity. Then Noah comes along and is a righteous man that God makes a personal covenant with. Then Abraham comes along, and God makes a permanent covenant to bless all humanity. From then on, we read of cycles of progressive redemption. The Israelites sin, God forgives them, and the bounds of the covenant expand.

God is eternally seeking reconciliation with all people and indeed all creation through Jesus Christ. The story of salvation reached a climax with Jesus’s death and resurrection. In Jesus’s ascension, his transcendent grace exploded upon the world and was suddenly open to everyone.

Let’s share that message with the world. There are plenty of preachers telling the world that they are sinners, that they have a debt to God, that, in Calvin’s words, they are “totally depraved.” They preach a debtors’ prison model: you owe a debt to God, and you cannot come to God until you work it off. Jesus taught us that yes, we are sinners, BUT, our debt has been forgiven. The slate has been wiped clean. We are free to enter the kingdom of God, not because of anything we have done, but despite anything we may have done.

This is good news, the very best news. Through grace, we are forgiven. Jesus has removed all barriers between humanity and God. We encounter God’s grace, abounding love, and forgiveness each time we read the Bible or gather together in our Lord’s name. We have been touched by the Holy Spirit, who has reconciled us to God and restored us to full membership in God’s kingdom. And if we are reconciled to God, we are free to be reconciled to one another. Just as God has removed the crushing burden of our sins, we are commanded to show others how their burdens may be lifted, to share the peace that comes from a right relationship with God. Then we may enter into fuller, deeper relationships with each other, forgiving as we have been forgiven, loving as we are loved, and sharing the deep joy of being a part of God’s family. Let us follow the disciples’ lead and go forth in joy, proclaiming forgiveness by the grace of God. Amen.

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Life Lessons from the Rolla Mission

My clothes dryer has an adaptive cycle in which it extends the drying time until the clothes are actually dry, I guess based on humidity. It may tell you that there are 15 minutes remaining, then run for another 45 minutes. My kids were discussing this the other night, and said as aggravating as it is, at least then the clothes come out dry. In the dryers in their dorms, when the money runs out, the dryer stops. If the clothes aren’t dry, you either need to suffer wet clothes or pay for a whole additional cycle; you can’t just add a few minutes. My kids suggested that I start charging them $3.50 to do their laundry to make it feel like they’re still at college.

That sort of thing is what motivated the Rolla Mission to get started. There are only a few laundromats in Rolla, and they are expensive. The Vineyard had space, so they installed some washers and dryers and offered free laundry to whoever needed it.

Fast forward several years. Ashley Brooks gave a talk at a volunteer roundtable this week where she talked us through “a day in the life” of one of their patrons. Some people come by the Mission because they are poor, but many because they are poor and homeless. They are all working towards a better life, whether through some self-improvement project (e.g., counseling) or by saving money towards a place to live. Over time, the Mission’s services have expanded far beyond laundry, and all because of love.

What’s the point in having clean clothes and a dirty body? So they offered free showers. (I may have the sequencing a little wrong here, but the story arc is basically right.) People would come in hungry, so the Mission gave them snacks, and then meals. But every night, the building would close. One winter, the leadership couldn’t bear the thought of the patrons they loved sleeping out in the cold, so they started offering overnight shelter.

But ultimately, the Mission is not in a position to offer everything that a homeless person might need, including a place to live. Many homeless individuals have health issues (physical or mental), addictions, and so forth. They need a job so they can earn money so they can afford to pay rent. They may not have the documents they need, like a Social Security card.

But Ashley and the others involved with running the Mission have seen these needs and responded in love. They connect people with the services they need from dozens of other agencies in town. They help people navigate the complex bureaucracy that has been set up to prevent fraud and abuse but has the side effect of preventing adequate services to those in need.

Of course, the Mission can’t help everyone. They help people in our community and expect other communities to take care of their own people’s needs. Some people have needs beyond the Mission’s expertise or would put others at risk; I was volunteering one day when a state trooper brought in someone who was on drugs, and staff directed them to the hospital instead. Some people do not respond lovingly to the love they are given and have been banned for the good of other patrons.

But at the foundation of it all is love. The Vineyard didn’t set out to build a homeless shelter with a wide range of services; they just saw a need, filled it, and loved whoever showed up. That’s why I volunteer at the Mission: to learn how to love in actions and not simply in words.

16 We know love by this, that he laid down his life for us—and we ought to lay down our lives for one another. 17 How does God’s love abide in anyone who has the world’s goods and sees a brother or sister in need and yet refuses help? 18 Little children, let us love, not in word or speech, but in truth and action.

1 John 3:16-18
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A Time of Endings, A Time of Beginnings

As I’ve previously mentioned, I have been working towards a certificate that would enable me to become a commissioned ruling elder (CRE). I finished my last class this semester and was awarded a Certificate in Congregational Leadership from the University of Dubuque Theological Seminary. The big question is, what comes next? I am not unique in wondering about the future. This is a season of commencements, which celebrate the end of an academic program but are titled to remind us that the end of one chapter of life is really the beginning of the next.

Some academic programs are pretty specific. My nephew, Lance Workman, just received his MD. His next step is a family medicine residency at Mizzou. After that, the obvious career is to be a physician in a family practice. Other programs are less career-centric. For example, Southern New Hampshire University has a degree program in “general studies.” I have no idea what specific career a student would pursue after receiving that degree. I would say that divinity programs, particularly an M.Div. but also the certificate that I received, fall somewhere in-between. The natural next step is to take a call as a pastor of a congregation. But there are other paths.

My last course was Preaching, in which I learned a process that leads from a Bible passage to a sermon. More than that, Fr. Goodrich taught us a maxim:

Know the story. Live the story. Craft the story. Tell the story.

Father Kevin Goodrich

This is truly the calling of all Christians. Some people are designated preachers, but we are all supposed to share the good news that the kingdom of God is at hand. We are all supposed to encounter Jesus, and be witnesses of His work in the world.

18 And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. 19 Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, 20 and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”

Matthew 28:18-20

I’m not sure what my future holds. Maybe I will pour my energy into my home congregation, First Presbyterian Church of Rolla, and its existing ministries. Maybe I will start a new ministry within or alongside my home congregation. I’ve been told that if I want to do pulpit supply, there is tremendous need throughout Missouri; many churches have been closed during the pandemic, but are now re-opening. Some of those churches that rely on pulpit supply would be well-served by an installed pastor, for which I am technically qualified. Maybe I will continue to work on building up LGBTQ+ Rolla. Maybe I will blog more regularly.

My short-term plan is to fill pulpits when opportunities come along, and to use the sermon preparation process that I learned as a spiritual practice. My goal of this practice is to shift from gathering spiritual information, to pursuing spiritual formation. Rather than pouring more knowledge into my brain, I will seek to transform myself more and more into the person God wants me to be. I know that this is possible with God’s help. I pray that you—all of you who read this—will similarly be transformed into the person God wants you to be, and that we will each walk the path God lays out before us.

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Peace, Justice, and Reconciliation

I would not call today’s verdict justice, however, because justice implies true restoration, but it is accountability, which is the first step towards justice. And now the cause of justice is in your hands, and when I say, “your hands,” I mean the hands of the people of the United States.

Keith Ellison, Minnesota attorney general, speaking after the verdict in Derek Chauvin’s trial

“No justice, no peace.” This cry rings out at protests over the deaths of Black men, women, and even children at the hands of police officers. Stated this way, “justice” becomes shorthand for punishment or retribution against perpetrators of violence. Back in 1967, Martin Luther King, Jr., said more eloquently and completely, “There can be no justice without peace. And there can be no peace without justice.” King realized that justice and peace are inextricable.

But what is justice? Leviticus 24:19-20 encapsulates the ancient view: an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a life for a life. Ellison’s statement recognizes that there cannot be justice without restoration and reconciliation. True justice heals our wounds.

Several years ago, I heard a talk by F. W. de Klerk, the transitional leader of South Africa at the end of apartheid. He made the case that a community or nation that has experienced strife needs both truth and reconciliation. The American justice system is reasonably good at revealing truth, although there are racial and economic divides. Similarly, our justice system does a reasonable job at retribution and, occasionally, rehabilitation, again with racial and economic divides. Yet we, as a nation, have not really embraced reconciliation as a goal. For the person who has been wronged, restoration and the end of their suffering is a necessary precondition. People who are in pain can only cry out for retribution, to share their pain. Consider the ancient Israelites who had been exiled by Babylon:

8 O daughter Babylon, you devastator!
    Happy shall they be who pay you back
    what you have done to us!
9 Happy shall they be who take your little ones
    and dash them against the rock!

Psalm 137:8-9

Not a verse that is preached very often! But it is a true statement of grief and anger. The people were hurting. Their land and their nationhood had been taken away. Their holy temple had been destroyed. In a similar way, Black communities across the nation still feel grief and anger over the centuries of oppression they have endured. Until they are restored to equality, how can they enter into full community with the rest of American society?

What would justice be like for Cubans in Florida? Some Cubans are recent immigrants, refugees escaping the poverty and oppression of their Communist government. Others fled Cuba during the revolution in 1953. These were wealthy Cubans whose property was stolen by the Communists, and who, like the Israelites, lost their land and their nationhood. Although individuals who experienced this catastrophe are a small fraction of modern-day Cuban-Americans, the memory runs deep in that community and continues to impact US-Cuba relations. At this point, restoring their property is meaningless. Cuba has changed; Cuban-Americans are much better off than the typical Cuban. Yet that loss is still real and painful.

Achieving true justice requires peace and reconciliation. But achieving reconciliation requires first an acknowledgment of wrongdoing and a willingness to restore what has been lost. If there is to be peace in America’s Black communities, there must first be repentance by the White power structures that perpetuate injustice, that have created wealth and educational attainment disparities, that treat Blacks as a problem to be eliminated instead of people who deserve equality.


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Reconciliation, Colonialism, and Our Corporate Sin

Our lives are largely transactional. Obviously in the marketplace: I receive goods and services in exchange for money. In a more interpersonal way, all communities function in part as a gift economy, in which goods or services are given with the expectation that the receiver will give back someday. For example, one of my primary job functions is to write grant proposals, often in collaboration with other professors. If I am willing to help Prof. X with their proposal today, then perhaps Prof. X will help with mine next month or next year. Over time, we develop relationships that have grace and mutual understanding, but transactions undergird the relationships.

The church historically has translated worldly transactional relationships into the spiritual realm. For example, in some traditions, one must tithe (give one-tenth of one’s income) in order to be considered a full participant in the religious community. The Roman Catholic practice of confession, penance, and absolution is a fairly clear transaction: you tell the priest what you did, he tells you what you need to do, and then you are restored to full relationship with God. The evangelical understanding is surprisingly similar, except that it only happens once: you pray the sinner’s prayer, and you are restored to full relationship with God.

Recently I watched a surprisingly detailed video by Phil Vischer (of Veggie Tales fame) called, What is an “Evangelical”? If you haven’t watched it, I highly recommend it as a way to understand modern conservative Christianity. Vischer notes that most modern Christians are evangelical in the 18th century sense, which is why the most liberal Lutheran denomination in America is the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA). The evangelical movement, dating to the Great Awakening, grew out of an interpretation of John 3:3:

3 Jesus answered him, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.”

John 3:3

Being a Christian required a personal decision to follow Jesus, not simply being born into a Christian family. Logically, this led to the modern concept of the sinner’s prayer.

The Great Awakening, though, followed two centuries after the Reformation. John Calvin was the father of Reformed theology. This is a particular branch that emerged during the Reformation that, in the US, is primarily represented by Presbyterian denominations (including PC(USA), of which I am a member), Dutch Reformed denominations such as RCA, and German Reformed denominations including the United Church of Christ. In one of Calvin’s foundational writings (his Institutes of the Christian Religion), he taught that each worship service should begin with a corporate prayer of confession. That is, Calvin taught that the minister should pray on behalf of the whole assembly, asking forgiveness of the sins of the whole body, after which he should assure the congregation of God’s pardon through Jesus Christ.

In essence, Calvin’s argument was that we are not only personally sinful, but sinful as a group—as a community, as a nation, as a species. (I can’t quite get on board with his doctrine of total depravity, though.) It is important to make a conscious, hopefully-one-time decision to follow Jesus. It is important to regularly confess your own personal sin, and ask God’s forgiveness, confident in receiving forgiveness and reconciliation. But that is not sufficient.

23 So when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remember that your brother or sister[a] has something against you, 24 leave your gift there before the altar and go; first be reconciled to your brother or sister,[b] and then come and offer your gift. 25 Come to terms quickly with your accuser while you are on the way to court[c] with him, or your accuser may hand you over to the judge, and the judge to the guard, and you will be thrown into prison.

Matthew 5:23-25

God’s Law is about building God’s kingdom, both now and in the age to come. When I break that Law, I not only sin against God, but also sin against God’s children. So I need to ask forgiveness not only from God, but also from the person who has been wronged.

Calvin understood, though, that we are connected in a community, and what one person does affects all of us. So I need to seek forgiveness not only for my own sins, but also for the sinfulness of my community, my nation, my species.

For example, I have not personally killed anyone. However, I am part of a nation that deploys military around the world in ways that result in the deaths of the innocent. Whether or not the military actions are justified, we all should seek God’s forgiveness for our part in those deaths. But just as much, we need to seek forgiveness from the nations that we have ravaged, from the families who have lost loved ones, and so forth.

In the same way, I have not personally excommunicated anyone who is gay, nor have I defrocked a pastor who officiated a gay wedding. I have not supported ex-gay ministries or otherwise actively diminished the contributions of the LGBTQ community. I am a member of a welcoming congregation in a denomination that ordains gay pastors. And yet, I am the inheritor of a legacy of discrimination. As an individual, I seek forgiveness for the small part I have played in supporting all of these discriminatory actions. As a congregation, denomination, and religion, we all need to seek forgiveness from God and from those who have been hurt, directly and indirectly, by our actions over several decades.

As the sinner, I do not have the right to say, “Let’s just move on.” I—we—must ask the LGBTQ community to forgive the evil that has been done in Christ’s name, so that they can tell us they are willing to reconcile.

In the same way, I am the inheritor of the legacy of colonialism. I have not personally forced any Native Americans off their land, nor have I personally enslaved any Africans. That doesn’t change the fact that I benefit as a citizen of the nation that was built through these and other evil acts. Again, I, and we all, must ask these aggrieved communities for their forgiveness and allow them to take the lead in reconciliation.