I Can't

I can’t save children from being killed 2500 miles away, but I can comfort those in my community who are scared to go to school.

I can’t feed all the starving and hungry in Asia, but I can donate canned food to feed the hungry students from poor families at the local high school.

I can’t give homes to all the homeless in Appalachia, but I can shelter a few homeless here in Phoenix.

I can’t stop corrupt cops in Chicago, but I can cook Christmas dinner for the police officers here in Mountain View Precinct and build bridges between them and the community.

I can’t counsel every soldier returning from war with PTSD, but I can help get groceries for the soldier’s wife down the street while he is away at war, so he doesn’t have one more stress.

I can’t save the elderly woman who froze to death in her New York apartment last week because she had no heat, but I can visit the shut-in down the street and help her pay her electric bill.

I can’t stop the hurt and anger caused by that Kansas church picketing funerals, but I can build relationships with people who have a different lifestyle than I do.

I can’t stop every abortion, but I can adopt an unwanted child in this city.

I can’t stop racism in Mississippi, but I can ensure that my group of friends have lots of different skin colors and cultural backgrounds.

I can’t fix the political question of illegal immigration, but I can get to know the pastor of the Hispanic church that meets locally.

I can’t save the girl who just committed suicide, but I can befriend the teens in our area who are bullied and teach my kids to do the same.

I can’t fix the partisan politics of our system, but I can educate myself as a voter and actively vote for what is right in each situation and not necessarily what a specific party tells me to vote for.

I can’t medicate everyone dying of HIV/AIDS in Africa, but I can hold the hand of an HIV patient whose friends have abandoned him here at the hospice.

I can’t save the world, but I can live out my faith locally, demonstrating God’s word through meeting the practical needs of those around me.

I can’t waste time waiting for someone else to change the world, but I can get started making a difference by becoming the change in my corner of the world.

I can’t do all these things by myself, but I can invite you to help too.

All solutions are grass roots and must start locally.  The seed is planted in you, now what will you do with it?

Un-Easy Answers

My friends, I am sitting here at my desk in absolute sorrow over the events at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Connecticut.  As of the recent reports, at least 18 children are dead this morning along with teachers and staff.  A flow of emotions runs through me as I consider my love for own little girls, my anger at the person who did this, my broken heart for those parents who will never see their little children again.  At the same time, I pray for them and for the other parents and children that now know a terror that will never truly be erased from their minds. 

I wish I had easy answers.  I’d be a liar if I said I did.  

This is a time to take a breath, to step back and hold our loved ones, to stop and take stock of our lives and priorities.  Consider that any day might be your last, that there will eventually come a moment when you lose someone dear to you, and that eventually, you too will face that moment for yourself.  

As a Christian, I believe that humanity is made in the image of God, but that we are inherently broken at our core being, by sin.  Even the best of us are damaged goods.  It is easy to blame the murderer for his choices, to blame the gun manufacturer for creating the tool, to blame the government for too few regulations, to blame friends and family of the murderer for not catching the danger; but, the truth is this, these events are just a byproduct of the evil around us.

You just cannot take away every implement that can be used to kill.  Nor, can you station enough people around with weapons to stop violence.

You just cannot lock away every person who has mental problems, nor can you hope to catch every one who eventually snaps.

You just cannot expect police to be there to stop every crime, nor even hope that every officer of the law is safe from being the perpetrator either. 

You just cannot expect to educate this type of behavior out of society, nor can you pray it out either.

You just cannot pass enough laws to change the fact that evil exists, nor debate it away online.

We may try to pass some knee-jerk laws, but that won’t fix anything.  We may blame someone (Congress, Republicans, the President, the NRA, the murderer, his family, violence on television, the school for not being locked, the police for not responding fast enough), but that isn't going to solve it either. 

 

Safety, in this world, is nothing but an illusion.  This is why it becomes so urgent to figure out your priorities.  This honesty about safety and lack of urgency in our priorities is missing from our society.  In fact, the only urgency we have is in our busy rush to numb our reality with entertainment and amassing money and stuff.

I wish I could be more comforting in a time like this, to be able to say, “It’ll all be OK,”  but we both know that it won’t.  We may forget this incident, but those who are there will not.  Even so, another incident will happen, whether another shooting, a terrorist bomb, a plane crash, or even a tsunami. 

It will never be OK until we recognize the reality of a broken world, and ultimately that that brokenness extends even to ourselves.  

At that point, our only hope is to look for the truth of God in this world, the God who promises salvation from this world, if we but turn to Him.   

Please, I urge you to turn from whatever you are doing now.  

If you are a believer in Jesus, please take stock.  Are you living your life with urgency?  Are you doing the things that God calls you to do in this world, being a comfort to others, serving those in need, being a peacemaker, sharing the hope of Christ?

If you don’t know Jesus or if all you know about him is from the obnoxious actions of a few, let me urge you to take a hard look at your life’s priorities and consider the death that each of us faces.  Pray to God that you might find him.  Seek out a Christian pastor who can help you through this.

All: Fall on your knees and please pray for the families of the victims today.  Pray for the children who have learned the harsh lesson of evil, far too early in life.  Pray for the police, fire, and medical emergency responders, for their lives will be changed by this too.  But then, when you get up, carry this lesson with you.  Do something good in this world.  Be a person of peace.  Stand up for what is right.  Love all people, even those who seem unlovable.  Serve others.  You cannot stop all the evil in the world, but you just might bring some small light of good where you are today.  The smallest candle cast a huge amount of light in the darkest places. 

If you wish to talk through your feelings on this tragedy, if you wish for prayer, or if you want to know more about God, please contact me through this blog or Facebook.

Pastor Rodger

Reaching Across

If I had a hammer.

Blowin in the Wind.

Where have all the flowers gone.

Sitting in my local coffee house this morning. 

The music playing overhead was right out of 1967:  Joan Baez.  Peter, Paul, and Mary.  Kingston Trio.  Jim Croce.  Crosby, Stills, and Nash.

I had to stop and reflect on human arrogance.  We always seem to think that we are so much more civilized than previous generations, that we have it all figured out.  No matter what side of the political coin we are on, we are absolutely positive that we are right.  We are quick to judge the motives and ideologies of others, and assume that they are wrong, evil, or malicious.

It seems every generation, political ideology, and movement believes, 

“It’s us against them.”

“We have truth on our side.”

“We have the right reasons.”

“We have facts on our side.”

“We have pure motives.”

 “We mean well.”

“Therefore, anything we do, is acceptable.”

It seems to me, that any large movement in this line of thinking becomes a steamroller that ends up squashing people who don’t agree with them, smearing those who dissent, attacking those who dare to believe differently:

From the 60s protests to the War on Terrorism.  

From the black berets of the Black Panthers to the white sheets of the KKK.

From shameful signs of Westboro Baptist to the shaming smears of GLAAD.

From the Moral Majority to the affirmative action for minorities.

From the Border Guard to the Derechos Humanos Coalition

When groups become so assured of their righteousness on a single issue, they begin to see all others as their enemy, and that isn’t healthy for any of us.

Our culture claims to value diversity.  It champions tolerance and equality.  But the truth remains that diversity rarely includes opposition.  Tolerance doesn’t tolerate dissension, and everyone is equal unless they are on the other side.

Will history judge us for the choices we made today?  Is there a way to bridge beliefs, to cross boundaries, to befriend those who are radically different from us?

I believe there is, but it doesn’t come from a big movement.

It comes from the individual actions of people who care enough to sit down with those who are against us, to have real conversations, meals together, and intentional outreaches.  It comes from those who are willing to say that I sorely disagree with you on this one issue, but we can come together in a dozen other places.  It comes from those who are willing to be humble and value others above themselves.

One on one, we can build relationships that can stand through anything.

That’s the theory.  Now, comes the time to put it into practice.  Can you swallow your pride and reach out to that family member who is in that other political party?  Can you invite that guy from the office out to lunch who always talks about that one issue?  Can you be the humble one and reach out to the friend on Facebook who has strong opinions? 

Thanksgiving is coming.  What better time to sit down and make peace?

Someone has to make the first step.

Will you?

Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.

Philippians 2:3-4

Mr. Brown

It’s his hat that I remember most.  I don’t think I ever saw him without it.  You know the kind: navy blue truckers hat... the kind with the foam front half and plastic mesh back half with the little plastic snap band for sizing.  U.S. Navy was emblazoned in gold on the front and that stuff that looks like scrambled eggs was on the brim.  He always wore it perched on his gunmetal grey hair, everywhere he went.  He dressed well too, always with a polo shirt and slacks.  He’d be walking down the street and there was no doubt it was Mr. Brown when you saw him.

His smile.  I remember that too.  He always had the biggest smile and friendliest laugh of anyone I’ve ever met.  Always a joke.  Always an encouragement.  Always brightening your day.

Mr. Brown was an elderly black gentleman who I met when I was 17 and working at the restaurant.  I never knew his first name, he always introduced himself with a smile and said, “I’m Mr. Brown, what’s your name?”  He’d come in and say, “Hello,” to everyone in the dining room and every staff member.  He had a way of talking to you that made you feel like you really mattered.  He’d remember your name (and everyone else’s) and ask you how your dad was doing, how you did on your final, or some other tidbit about your life that he had tucked away during your last conversation.  He was a presence when he came into a room.  You couldn’t miss him.  He was the most amiable man I have ever known.

I only saw him angry once.  One of the counter girls had been treated poorly by her boyfriend shortly before and she had been crying.  Mr. Brown put his arm on her and told her that she was beautiful and that she was too valuable to waste her time with someone who couldn’t appreciate that. I believe that her soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend would have been really sorry if he been there, at that moment.  Mr. Brown soon had her sniffing away the tears and laughing along with him.

Mr. Brown was generous with his time.  He helped me do my taxes for the first time.  I think he did the same thing for almost every young kid there.  He helped my friend work on his car and helped me fix my bike once.  He always seemed to be helping someone with something.

We walked together from the restaurant to my house to do my taxes.  It was normally a 20 minute walk, but it was five times that with Mr. Brown.  Along the way, he stopped at almost every shop and business to say, “Hello,” to people he knew there.  He took time with every single one of them to flash his smile and to listen to their story.  And, he introduced me to every single one of them as if I was his closest friend in the world. 

Mr. Brown impressed me so much, that I vowed that someday, I’d be like him.  I want to live in a community of people and be known by everyone.  I want to be able to encourage people and help them out.  I want to lift up those whose spirits are down, and be the kind of guy who can make a young girl smile through her tears and be just a bit scary to her loser boyfriend who hurt her.  I want to help some dumb kid with his taxes and maybe pass along a few life lessons along the way.

That’s who I’d like to be.  Just like Mr. Brown.

For years, I’d see Mr. Brown and his Navy hat walking around the streets of this neighborhood.  I moved to a different part of the city for a few years, and I haven’t seen him since I’ve moved back.  He’s probably passed on by now.  It may not be theologically accurate, but I like to picture Mr. Brown strolling the streets of heaven, wearing his Navy hat, stopping and talking to every single person there, remembering their name, and listening to their story.

He may be gone, but Mr. Brown lives on in my memory, and in my desire to be just like him.

The Most Common Lie

Every single day, you tell a lie.  In fact, you probably tell two lies at the same time and haven’t even thought about it.  I will go so far as to suggest that you tell these same two lies dozens of times every day and it doesn’t bother you.

The first part of the lie is a word you use every single day.  It’s the four-letter F-word. 

This is the part where you draw in an abrupt breath and cover your mouth while using all of your Puritan roots to say, “I don’t use the four-letter F-word.”

And this is the part where I say, “Yes, you do.”

I can pretty much guarantee that someone walked past you today and said, “How are you doing?”

You quickly said, “Fine, how are you?”

And they replied with the same word, “Fine.”  Then off they went, and off you went, forgetting the entire transaction.

F-I-N-E, let’s spell it out.  That’s the four-letter F-word.

You probably aren’t “Fine,” and they probably didn’t really want to hear how you really are doing.

You are both liars.

There are few worse things in this life, that we accept so readily, than missed opportunities for deeper relationship.  We hide our own pain and never stop to think that the other person might be fighting the biggest battle of their whole lives.

What might happen if we told the truth?

What if we cared enough to love our neighbor as God calls us to do? (Matthew 22:36-40)

What if we were to bear each other’s burdens as we are told to do in the Bible? (Galatians 6:2)

What if you actually stopped a moment and said, “You know, Bob, I’m not fine.  In fact, yesterday was a real struggle, but I’m working my way back today.”

What if Bob was concerned enough to stop and say, “I’m sorry to hear that, I had a rough day too, a few days back, is there anything I can do to help?” 

Why, a connection might be made.  A friendship developed.  Hope and encouragement could be given.  You might even grow a little.

It doesn’t always have to be burdens.  Maybe you are having a major life victory.  Don’t you think that you might share that and encourage others?

It is my commitment never to use the four-letter F-word.  I promise that I won’t lie to you by saying, “fine,” if I’m not, and I won’t ask you how you are doing unless I’m ready to hear what you have to say.

I invite you to make the same commitment.

So…

How are you doing?  

The Coffee House Lesson

Sitting at one of my favorite coffee shops a couple of weeks ago, I observed a sad phenomenon that marks our culture.
First, though, I must tell you that I love coffee shops!  Sights, smells, sounds, flavor, and texture all come together to create an environment that welcomes almost anyone.  Where else can you put an overstuffed electric-blue couch next to a pair of Danish modern leather chairs?  What other place has smells of coffee, chocolate, cinammon, and cardamom floating freely for your nostril's delight?  How many other eating establishments allow you to nestle down in big squishy, comfy, sofa while kicking your feet up on the table?  I frequent coffee shops several times a week and I love to have meetings and appointments there because the atmosphere tends to disarm people much more than sitting in THE PASTOR'S OFFICE seems to do (ominous organ music crescendoes).

That's how I found myself sitting in a local coffee house several weeks ago, waiting for an appointment with someone.  I arrived early and sat there nursing my coffee and watching the people around me.

A small group of police officers sat on the patio, lounging, laughing, but also lethal, in their vests, uniforms and guns.  There is an air of readiness to police officers, their heads on swivels, constantly aware, ever vigilant. One of the officers is clearly ‘The Old Guy,’ shaved head, grizzled squint to his eyes, and clearly the center of attention from the other three.  Two of the others have been cops for awhile, aware of their surroundings, confident and experienced, but comfortable.  The last guy is plainly the new guy.  In all the cop shows, he is ‘The Rookie,’ still possessing an eagerness and shininess that is noticeable to anyone who looks.  The new-cop smell still hasn’t worn off yet.  These guys have a long and ranging conversation, but no one sits anywhere near them.

A gaggle of large women come in, clearly secretaries or other anonymous office personnel.  The three could be sisters, all pale and pudgy.  Non-stop prattle emanates from them as they gossip about the other women at the office.    I’m not sure who Susan is, but if they are right, then she probably shouldn’t be doing that with their boss.  I don’t think these women like her very much.  After getting their coffees and pastries, they move off to a table and sit together in a cloud of perfume and judgment.

Near their table is a pretty young co-ed, listening to her iPod and lackadaisically surfing the internet on her laptop.  She looks very, very sad: the kind of sad where her eyes seemed to have tears ready, waiting for the slightest motivation to fall.  I wonder what her story is, but I don’t ask.  A young college age boy sits directly behind her, also surfing the web and listening to his iPod. Maybe if they both got out of their data-driven isolation cells, they might have something in common and maybe she wouldn’t be so sad.

Behind me are two men speaking in rapid fire Spanish.  I catch snippets of family life and stories about their students.  It sounds like they are both teachers.  They have similar complaints to those of my English-speaking teacher friends.

Looking over, I see that the cops have left, only to be replaced by a young girl in her teens with hair a shade of red that doesn’t occur naturally.  She sits next to her heavily pierced friend.  Both girls are busily texting, but occasionally break their silence to comment to each other while pointing to something amusing on their phone.  It appears that they are texting each other and at least one third party, but they don’t speak much to each other in person, just inside their electronic realm.

A large man in an even larger cowboy hat pulls up a footstool to sit and talk to an even larger man in a camouflage trucker’s hat.  Cowboy Hat guy is wearing shorts and sandals, and looks like he could do some damage to a horse if he sat on it, so I’m pretty sure he really isn’t a cowboy.  Cowboy Hat and Trucker Hat get into a heated discussion about politics, but take periodic breaks to glance over lasciviously at the sad young co-ed.  They ignore the business man sitting next to them in a suit as he talks too loud and too fast on his cell phone, gesturing passionately as if the person on the other end of the line could see him.  He keeps checking out the sad, pretty girl periodically too.

A black guy with shoulder length dreadlocks brings his bike inside and orders coffee.  I think to myself wistfully that I wish I could pull off the dreadlock look. It just wouldn’t look nearly as cool on an overweight white guy as it does on a buff black dude.  He looks around the room briefly, and then leaves with his coffee and bike.

All of these people come together in the same place, brought together by coffee.  There’s little else to connect them otherwise.

I find myself saddened that each one sits alone, or only with those that are very much like them.  In all this diversity, I can only find homogeny.  I don’t want to surround myself with people who are exactly like me; who look, act, think, believe, and talk just like me.  And.. I don’t want to be alone in a 2-dimensional, online world that exists outside of reality, either.  I want to strike up a conversation with each of them, to find out their individual, poignant, funny, sad, and hopeful stories.  I find myself wondering why someone would choose a gray existence of mirrored personalities over the rich tapestry of real people around them.

Life is real, and it is short.  Let’s get out there and make it exciting.  Let’s not just live lives in proximity to each other, but let’s actually live our lives side-by-side with each other.  Let’s hold conversations with people who look strange to us (because we probably look weird to them).  Let’s talk about our experiences, our beliefs, and our ideas, withholding judgment for a time, and seeking to find commonality and even growth by the exposure to thoughts we’ve never considered.  If you’ve read this far, I dare you to go to the local coffee shop and strike up a conversation.  Ask someone who looks interesting what their story is.  Buy a cup of coffee for someone and find out what they believe.  Say, “Hi,” and smile at those around you and ask them how their day is.  Then, sit back and hold on tight as your horizons are broadened and your life gets far more interesting.