Within limits, of course.
If you know me at all, you can imagine how confused I was to hear this yesterday at our church’s Veteran’s Day Luncheon:
Note the order here: the nation was telling the churches to celebrate this day.
I reacted, but controlled it. Someone else had the floor. This gave me time to figure my response.
The State doesn’t tell the church what to do! How dare they? Who do they think they are. The wheels of thought spun inside me, measured by the knowledge that I was surrounded by people, many of whom had served in war, and at least some of whom don’t have exactly the same ecclesiology I do.
As the speaker concluded, she shared that this description of the history of Veteran’s Day came from The United Methodist Church.
My thoughts took an abrupt turn, but not full 180.
Promoting and enduring peace and honoring those who offered themselves to the cause of freedom and justice were certainly worthy values that I could encourage, even lead, my church to uphold.
I’m still nonconstantinian, but I have realized that maybe there is more left to render to Caesar than I thought before yesterday.
I found myself prefacing a comment on facebook last week with the phrase “with all due respect.” Admittedly, that was more filler than thoughtful; if what followed felt like a blow, I added the preface to soften it.
Then I got to thinking about respect. My mind can’t go there without quickly passing through 2 thoughts. The first, of course, comes courtesy of Aretha Franklin. Thank you, Ms. Franklin.
The second thought is from a time when I was in youth ministry. Trying to counsel a high school student through his parent’s divorce, I was struck with an insight that, honestly, impressed me.
I had been encouraging the young man to treat his parents with respect because they deserved it. I’m a parent, and I like that line of reasoning.
On the other hand, I knew some of the choices his parents were making were not good choices.
In other words, they were not, in many ways, earning respect.
So, here’s that insight that surprised and impressed me: “Sometimes,” I said, “you have to treat people with respect because you want to be that kind of person. Someone who treats others with respect.”
(You might wonder why that so surprised – and impressed – to think of such a common sensical sort of thing. Be patient with me; I’m still learning this thing called life.)
We who are parents like to think we can command the respect of our children simply because we are parents. While I would agree we should be able to get some mileage out of this, if the ONLY basis you have for expecting your children to treat you with respect is ‘I’m the parent, that’s why!’ then I’m afraid you are going to be in for a lot of disappointment and heartache.
With all due respect, parents (and adults in general), let’s act in ways that deserve respect rather than just demanding we be treated with respect.
Let’s start with treating others with respect. Whether we feel they deserve it or not. Let’s respect others because of who we are.
You know that sinking feeling you get when you look in your rear-view mirror and see a police car with lights flashing? And you heard the siren before you saw it? And then the next feeling is supposed to be relief because you pull to the side and the police car zooms on past?
Well, I got the first of those feelings without the second a couple of weeks ago, when I got my first speeding ticket in quite a few years.
No doubt I was guilty. 30 in a 20. I hadn’t noticed the change, thought I was keeping up with traffic; you know the drill.
So I pulled over, put the car in Park, put my hands on the steering wheel, and waited.
We had a fine conversation. I kept hoping that I might be let off with a warning. Might have, except it was in a school zone. I guess I want no tolerance in a school zone. Maybe even more than I want a citation.
I can’t say I have been stopped a lot of times. I also can’t say that I have always thought that stopping me and writing me a citation was really the best thing to do. So, I rolled a stop sign, but there was NO ONE else on the road! Oh, yeah, except that parked police car down the street….
For all the times I’ve been stopped, maybe ten over the 35+ years I have been driving, I have always been treated well.
Judging from ONLY my own experience, I cannot make any sense of the challenges our society currently faces over policing.
On the other hand, there are too many stories, and too many incidents, for me to believe that there is not a problem.
But I am absolutely convinced of this: the problem is not the police, and the problem is not one particular race or class of people. The problem is us; the problem is in and with all of us, and until we can all admit that, I do not expect the problem will get any better.
And I don’t know anyone who wants things to keep going like they are. I don’t believe there is anyone who wants things to keep going like they are. But when, and how, are we going to get past the fear and hashtags that frame all of this?
Who is willing to stop vilifying the other, WHOEVER the “other” might be?
I am going to try. Wouldn’t you agree it is worth a try?
If it is worth a try, would you also agree that it has to start with ME trying, and YOU trying, not waiting around for THEM to try?
That’s from my recent brush with the Law. May your next brush with the law be at least as smooth as mine.
My plans aren’t your plans,
nor are your ways my ways, says the Lord.
Just as the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways,
and my plans than your plans. (CEB)
On this day in 1738 John Wesley found his way to a gathering on Aldersgate street. Remembering it, he wrote this in his journal: “In the evening I went very unwillingly to a society in Aldersgate Street….”
At Aldersgate, following a reading of Martin Luther’s preface to Romans, Wesley wrote that his heart was “strangely warmed.” He continued that he did, in that moment – from that moment on- trusted “in Christ, and Christ alone,” for his salvation.
And he went unwillingly.
The salvation for which Wesley trusted Christ from that day forward wasn’t just a warmed heart. He rarely referred again to that specific event or day or moment, but the life he went on to live changed the world.
Wesley organized small groups to disciple one another. The practices and disciplined life he had already been living, coupled with the warmed heart, brought many others into the fold of Christ. The small groups, the mutual accountability work done therein, would grow the members into people who followed Wesley’s example and followed Jesus.
Schools and hospitals were founded. Prisoners were ministered to. Some have gone so far as to allege that the Wesleyan revival helped England avoid the kind of bloody revolution France would face.
And Wesley went unwillingly.
In these days following #UMCGC, the 2016 General Conference of the United Methodist Church, we have a lot of unwillingness.
In response to much and loud and bitter dissension regarding, primarily, our church’s stance on LGBTQI matters, our bishops have called for a special commission to study the issue and present possible resolutions.
Many of us are not holding our breaths waiting for the conclusions reached by this commission. I, for one, am incredibly skeptical that resolution can be reached between the extremes within our denomination.
But then today I was struck by the word unwillingly.
My skepticism rests mostly on my presumption that many are resistant -no, beyond resistant – dead set against any compromise of their position.
But maybe, at least on this Aldersgate Day, that’s exactly the Wesleyan place to be.
May all we United Methodists approach our future as unwillingly as Wesley approached the meeting on Aldersgate Street.
Look what happened that time!