Common Service: A Queen, a Nun, and all of Us

"I declare before you all that my whole life, whether it be long or short, shall be devoted to your service and to the service of our great Imperial family. God help me to keep my vow," said Queen Elizabeth II on her first official state visit so many years ago. This week, 2000 people filled Westminster Abbey in London to celebrate the 60^th anniversary of her coronation June 2, 1953.

A week ago, in East Dubuque, Illinois, population a little less than 2000, Sr. Mary Owen Haggerty was remembered for her years of faithful service. Born in 1927, just a year after Queen Elizabeth, the Sister also served for some sixty years, as part of the Dominican Order of Sinsinawa, WI, within sight of East Dubuque. Hundreds gathered to share memories the night before her funeral, not just nuns, but nieces and nephews and all sorts of people from the Tri-States of Iowa, Illinois and Wisconsin and as far away as Colorado and Connecticut.

Queen Elizabeth served the Commonwealth.  Sister Mary Owen served the common health. The Queen has served faithfully, consistently, responsibly, day after day, year after year, with modest warmth and wisdom.  So did the Sister. And the world changed around them both.

Sister Mary Owen took her vows before Vatican II. Her church, her religious order, its form of governance, her garb all changed. But her arenas of service only grew. About 25 years ago, in her early 60’s, while attending a Rural Ministry Conference here at Wartburg Theological Seminary in Dubuque, Sr. Mary Owen approached Pastor Burton Everist of Grace Lutheran Church in East Dubuque and asked him if she could be his parish health nurse.  She writes in the book Ordinary Ministry: Extraordinary Challenge, (Everist, Abingdon, 2000) that she had offered her services two different times to Roman Catholic churches in the area. “I thought I was making them an offer they couldn’t afford to pass up, but they did.”

Pastor Burton Everist did accept and she was called to be parish health minister at Grace Lutheran, where she served for many years. Three years later Wesley Methodist Church in East Dubuque invited her to be their parish health minister, too. She visited people in the hospital, health care facilities and in their homes, providing consultation, support, a listening ear, care, friendship, prayer, and often a piece of Sinsinawa home-made pie. The Lutherans and Methodists would ask if she would stop by and see their Roman Catholic friends (the majority faith group in the area), and so Sister became the de facto parish health minister for all of East Dubuque.  She wrote that she sometimes served as "'minister-in-the-cracks' to those people who are between churches, because I have become acquainted with them in their time of need."

Sister Mary Owen had at one time been nursing director at Rosary College (now Dominican University) in River Forest, Illinois, had served with Hospice of Spokane, Spokane, Washington, and loved her frequent trips to offer health care in Jamaica.

And across the river in Dubuque, Iowa? Here, too, the sister simply served—bread.  One saw her every Saturday morning at the Dubuque Farmers’ Market, (in continuing existence since 1836), selling Sinsinawa bread, and simply talking with people. One might see her when the market opened in the spring asking an elderly man how he was doing, and then taking him aside to talk when he told her his wife had died during the winter. And so she served, day by day, faithfully into her 86^th year. The card with her picture each of us held as we told stories in the Gathering Room at Sinsinawa quoted Meister Eckart, OP: “There’s no such thing as my bread; all bread is ours, and is given through me and to me through others.”

Common health of a community.  A Commonwealth of nations.  Of course one cannot push the comparison too far. But I keep seeing the common faces of these two women and that strengthens me because of what they have “in common,” a deep, faithful commitment to service.  

I know, Elizabeth II is no commoner, but she does now pay taxes like any other British citizen. She took her vow: “The things which I have here before promised, I will perform, and keep,” before many British colonies became independent nations. Her nation, the constitutional monarchy, her church, her garb, her arenas of service have changed, and, if one thinks of power in terms of well-being, I think her service has grown.  

People ask, “Can women have it all?” That is an imposed question which seems to fit neither the queen nor the nun. I think rather the question should be, “Do we have a call?”  And that’s a question for me, too. 

Perhaps these two women touch me in particular because June 5, 1960, 53 years ago this week, I was consecrated as a Lutheran deaconess, vowing a life of faith and service to Christ. Across these decades my life, too, has changed beyond imagining.  Marriage and ministry now possible together. Ordination. Becoming a pastor and then a professor and writer. But the commitment to faith and service remains the same, just with broader arenas.

The Queen and the nun: Service, commitment.  In each of their lives and ours there are pressures and challenges, suffering, and joy, all of it, yes, all of it. The calling takes us further and further out into the world, whether across oceans or the Mississippi River, to reach out across borders and boundaries and to be drawn close by those we love.

God Doesn't Say, "See You Next Fall"

“See you next fall,” one church member says to another at the end of May.  After all, the summer season is beginning.  The expectation is that many pews will be empty as people leave for vacation.  People often live down to our expectations.

Not unlike expecting a half-full church the week after Christmas or Easter.  Perhaps it is not the same in Judaism or Islam the week after a high holy day or during the summer season.  I cannot authoritatively speak to that. But I do know that in none of the world’s great religions do I hear of God taking the summer off.  So why do we?

Lest I be misunderstood, I have nothing against vacations! Everyone, including clergy, paid and volunteer staff, needs vacation time. We have a God of Sabbath rest.  And a God of the mountains, lakes and sky.  The Creator God re-creates us through recreation.

But God doesn’t say, “See you next fall.”  And thank God for that, because although people need a break from routine, think what it would be like to have a God absent from our lives, from the world, for three months.  During the summer, people will have joys to share with their faith community, discernments to make, suffering to endure, grief to bear.    Babies will be born and people will die, perhaps some suddenly, shockingly.  We will need each other. We need to worship together, to hear words from a holy book, places to talk about the ordinary and unimaginable happenings in the world, a faith community with whom to pray.

Many congregations provide creative ways to carry out education and worship: alternative times of the week, outdoor services, family vacation Bible Schools, multigenerational learning opportunities, service trips, mission projects.   I trust these alternatives will be offered not out of frustration, but joyful expectation. We need to expect each other to come. And someone might just come for the first time.

Kevin, a single father, brought his three-year-old daughter to church one summer Sunday.  Although unaccustomed to weekly worship, she participated fully in listening, singing, and praying.  Kevin asked afterwards about Christian education for her. He was told to come back in the fall when things would start again.  

I need to see you this summer.  You need to see me.  Company in town? Bring them along! Our joy will be complete.  God doesn’t take a vacation from us.  Thank God.

Pentecost, Power and the Invisible War

It is hard to relinquish power once you have it, particularly when it is unlimited and unquestioned power.  President Obama Thursday acknowledged both the helpfulness, even necessity, of having the Authorization for Use of Military Force (AUMF) law. He also questioned it, noting the danger of continuing to have a law with such unlimited and far-reaching power.

On the other hand, having unlimited power and license to rape within the military system until recently was not questioned. The sexual crime of rape is all about power. The Independent Lens film, “The Invisible War,” shows the culture of privilege, power and impunity within the U.S. military. The U.S. Department of Defense in its recently released 2012 report showed that 26,000 women and men were sexually assaulted last year, a 35% increase from 2011.  It is not about men and women in close proximity or being in the wrong place at the wrong time. It is about domination, the unquestioned right of some men to dominate and overpower women and men they assume they can. And it is about being able to retain that power.  Rape and war have long been intrinsically intertwined.

Strange, isn’t it, that women entering the military, particularly in combat zones, was projected as being a danger to military men’s morale and ability to fight.  Likewise, fighting side by side with gays would supposedly weaken the strength of what was thought to be a heterosexual male military. It turns out women were not dangerous. They were in danger of being sexually assaulted by the very men they were told they would demoralize. And the real danger was to LGBT people themselves.  And the silent torture of thousands of straight men has been that they, too, have been sexually assaulted.  It is all about domination.

On Memorial Day weekend we honor those who have died in war. How do we honor them without glorifying war itself? We honor them by remembering their lives, their dedication, and their service.  And we honor them by being honorable ourselves and by helping contribute to creating and sustaining our military culture as an honorable place to serve, a place where people honor each other’s personhood and body.

President Obama addressed difficult topics in his major policy speech on Thursday including terrorism, the use of drones and closing the prison at Guantanamo Bay. The latter is an elusive goal, complicated by Congress. As expected, however, disproportionate news coverage was given to the one woman in the crowd who called out her passionate views on Gitmo. Reports said things like, “Protestors repeatedly interrupted. . . .” (there was one person and one incident) or, “President is speechless for 30 seconds when. .  . .” Actually President Obama remained in calm control without being drawn into either anger or argument. He was patient, not powerless, and then simply went off-script to give an even a finer explanation of his position.

Obama did not so much defend his use of drones on the basis of his power to do so, as deliver rubrics in their use. He said it is clear their use is effective and legal. But, he added, their use must also be wise and moral. 

Think about those words in terms of any use of power. In terms of the invisible war within the military, sexual assault and rape is effective in retaining male dominance, and in keeping power within the hands of the most powerful.  And it has mostly not been judged illegal. Changing that will be a huge challenge, but one taken on by  Senator Kirsten Gillibrand (D-New York) whose  bipartisan legislation has the support of Senators Barbara Boxer (D-California) and Susan Collins (R-Maine). It places the reporting and decision making for cases of sexual assault in the hands of a trained military prosecutor instead of with the commanding officer.

What about wisdom and morality? Victims of rape in the military have been continually victimized after the assaults. They have no power, most often receive no justice, and are often denied medical treatment. They have faced loss of their careers, PTSD, even suicide.  They, even if single, were accused of adultery, while their married assailants were not.

“The Invisible War” documentary stated that 33% of servicewomen did not report their rape because the person to whom they had to report was a friend of the rapist.  Twenty-five percent did not report because the person to whom they had to report was their rapist.

When interviewed, a person higher in the chain of command said they had alternatives such as to go to their congressional representative, to which a victim responded, “Who in the civilian culture when raped is told to go to their congressperson?”

Of the victims interviewed, their assailants retained careers and license to continue to perpetrate sexual domination. One was promoted to lieutenant. Another was named “Airman of the Year” during the time his victim’s rape was being investigated. Another is now a supervisor in a major U.S. corporation and there sexually assaulted a female employee.

It is hard to relinquish power once you have it.

The season of Pentecost has just begun. The Christ who relinquished power on the cross now lives eternally. Christianity is about morality, but also so much more.  It is about becoming again the Body of Christ in the world during this Pentecost Season.

On Memorial Day Weekend we honor bodies who have died and honor the bodies of women and men who live. We respect sexuality and see Jesus in one another, not that we might dominate and abuse, but so that we might respect, love and live together in all kinds of service.

We are not God. Only God has unlimited power. Christ chose to empty himself, taking the form of a servant, relinquishing power.  The Spirit’s power is unlimited. When you have more, I do not have less. Together we each have more, for the sake of peace and justice.  I do not need to kill, dominate or abuse you. The Holy Spirit empowers us all to claim resurrection power in order to share it.

When Help Is Not Just a Phone Call Away

“We're going to send them [the police] as soon as we get a car open,” said the dispatcher.  Amanda Berry replied, “No, I need them now before he gets back.” Of all the courage and strength it took to survive and to escape, one small phrase signaled to me Amanda Berry had not lost her sense of identity in context when she talked with 911: “No, I need them now.”

She had begun, “Help me. I'm Amanda Berry,” to which the dispatcher responded with the usual, “You need police, fire, ambulance?” Simply and straightforwardly Amanda replied, “I need police.” Most other people calling 911 would have thought, “Fine, they will send a police car.” Amanda knew, “when one is available” might be, well how long?  Ten minutes? An hour?  Three hours? Not at all?

When I heard those words I was drawn back in time to when I as a young women lived with my husband and three children in the inner city.  I am in no way comparing my situation to that of Amanda Berry, her daughter, Gina DeJesus or Michelle Knight.  But nonetheless I felt again the haunting reality of knowing that help might not be just a phone call away. 

Her words brought back images. When we lived in a poor neighborhood in an East Coast city, robberies were routine. We and our neighbors would call the police; however, noticing they were not writing down anything we said, we concluded they would not try to find the intruders. But when businesses needed protection, police took notice and went into action. We, the residents of the neighborhood, learned how to cope by ourselves and what help not to expect any time soon. We didn’t count. We were automatically devalued.  

This is not an indictment of any particular police department or individual, but of our system of values. Who and what is important? Who counts when someone goes missing? Rep. Marcia Fudge who represents Cleveland in the U.S. Congress said in an interview with Rev Al Sharpton that missing persons cases are not given the attention they should receive and that,  “There is even less attention given to young women who live in poor neighborhoods.”  When Michelle Knight was reported as missing, police told her family she had just walked away. Rep. Fudge said, “Had she been in another neighborhood, it is my belief the police would have handled it differently.”

All of us contribute to this un-equal system of values. When a pretty, blond young woman from a prominent, wealthy family goes missing, we follow the media stories of the search for months.  Neighborhoods that do not have such influence are invisible. So, how do we see?

How could no one have seen what was going on inside the house at 2207 Seymour Avenue in west Cleveland?  No one came. Some neighbors say they had noticed and called the police, but the police chief said, “We have no record of those calls coming in.”

It is true all sorts of people call 911 making foolish, even distracting calls. However, when someone calls out to 911, to the neighborhood, or to me, I need to be careful not to dismiss or judge, “They didn’t give information accurately enough,” or they did not speak clearly in my language or use professional English, syntax or grammar. Amanda did!  In the midst of possibly distracting questions about why she was calling from 2210 and not 2207, she said clearly, “I'm Amanda Berry. I've been on the news for the last 10 years.”

Amanda, Gina and Michelle have said they knew family and friends were waiting and searching.  How difficult that must have been.  To know and to be locked inside and not able to tell their families, “We’re here. We’re alive.”

And the joy in the neighborhood when those feared dead were found alive. What about our own neighborhoods? We formed neighborhood block clubs, not neighborhood “watches” with one race of people ready to stand their ground against others, but community groups which sought to know and include everyone, walking the streets together.  That is a way to gain courage, like Charles Ramsey and Angel Cordero who heard Amanda’s cries and (similar to people at the Boston Marathon finish line) walked toward the risk instead of away. Although this is a tragic, almost unbelievable, case, there are people in every neighborhood living in all kinds of bondage, crying out, some silenced, longing to be free.

Our family today lives in a place where we can safely walk the streets, even at night.  Not much danger here, and if there is, police come quickly. . . although there are more guns everywhere.  But I have not forgotten when we were living among boarded-up houses and dismissed as “those people.”  We cared for each other as neighbors there.  We need to know that in every neighborhood people are valued, even more valued when missing, and that we can count on each other to come now when called.

Humor is a Funny Thing. Or Not.

President Barack Obama, once a year dubbed the Comedian-in-Chief, knows how to use humor to uplift rather than to tear down. Oh, he’s funny enough. That’s not my point. What impressed me Saturday night at the White House Correspondents’ dinner was not just that he was again very cool, but that he really is comfortable with himself.  He doesn’t need to tear others down to make himself look good. 

Humor can be painful.  President Obama has been the brunt of more than his share of jokes, taken more than his share of ridicule, and been the target of out-right hate. Saturday night,  beginning with the traditional self-deprecating jokes, Obama acknowledged that he was expected to make fun of himself and to take himself down a few pegs, but added, “After 4 ½ years, how many pegs are left?”

Humor is a funny thing.  Or not. We live in a world so starved for genuine joy that our sit-coms have become nothing more than a series of put-down jokes.  No wonder our conversation mimics the comics, filled with bullying snide-remarks rather than the wit of wisdom. That is, if we have face-to-face conversation at all. It’s so much more convenient to make fun of people who “Friend” us electronically or to titter at our “Twitter.” We are sick from our own cynicism.

“Can’t you take a joke?”  I can, and I can tell a pretty good joke about you, too.  But maybe I choose not to.  Not when it’s all about power, either my having enough to humiliate you, or your having enough to take me down.  So often we use humor as bullets.  We shoot them randomly. And there is collateral damage.  A roast is unsuccessful if it does not demolish the enemy. Oh, did I say, “Enemy?” I was only joking.

I find humor best when it arises from community.  A group working together, enjoying each other, trusting each other. We do or say something in context that’s just plain funny, a you-have-to-have-been-there funny.  And we laugh, not at each other, but with each other.

Actually, the White House Correspondents’ Dinner came close to that Saturday night. Oh, there were some stingers, but not so many out-of-bounds remarks that we were all talking about them Sunday morning.  The hit was Barack trying to copy Michelle by adding bangs to his image.  Fun!  And the president issued some humorous remarks about the full range of news sources. Well taken! He added, “My job is to be president.  Their job is to keep my humble. Frankly I think I’m doing my job better.” Applause.  

The president reserved some humor for the Republicans. (Conan O’Brien had more.) Obama said that after the election all of the Republicans agreed they could do a better job of reaching out to minorities. He went on, “I can think of one minority they could start with.  ‘Hello!’”  suggesting they start with him and see how it goes.

Was Obama’s humor tough enough? He may have come closest when referring to people asking, “Why don’t you get a drink with Mitch McConnell?”  “Really?” Obama said, “Why don’t you get a drink with Mitch McConnell?”  Big laugh.  After which the president uttered, “ Sometimes I get frustrated.”   But he returned to his inclusive humor when kidding about  Marco Rubio considering running for president. “He  hasn’t finished a single term in the Senate and he thinks he’s ready to be president?  Kids, these days.”   

The president ended on a more serious note.  “These have been some very hard days for too many of our citizens: Boston, West Texas, families in the Midwest coping with terrible floods.”  He went on to raise up rather than tear down, saying that even in these days we have seen humanity at its best.  Everyday Americans  have been opening their  homes and their hearts to perfect strangers.  He said he had seen journalists at their best, chasing down leads to verify facts to inform and educate.  He commended first responders, law enforcement officers, volunteers and citizens who served not to be honored or celebrated but because of love of families, neighborhoods and country. He added that they should inspire all of us to do our jobs with the same fidelity and integrity rather than focusing on profits or ratings or polls that contribute to the cynicism so many people feel right now.  “We can do better, all of us,” he said.  Those of us with power, influence, all of us can strive to value those things that led us to do what we do in the first place.  We believe in service, and that we can have a lasting positive influence on those around us.   

Now that’s a reason to enjoy one another.

He said, "I ought to kill you."

The morning after Martin Luther King Jr. was killed forty-five years ago I walked around the block as usual to the home of my friend, Linda.  Our neighborhood Bible study group gathered each Friday morning.  We cherished our time together.  We knew this morning was different, dreadfully different, but we dared to gather together anyway.

You see, just the summer before our neighborhood in Detroit had been engulfed in flames in what the news reports then and history today calls, “The Riots.”  They were really the rebellions after decades of racial and economic discrimination.  Throughout the 1960’s we had been working together, marching, organizing, and making progress. But now our leader was dead.  He was gone and the temptation was to scatter into our isolated enclaves, or hide behind locked doors. Actually it might have been wiser for me, a white woman living in an inner city, “changing” neighborhood to not go out that morning. 

A friend of Linda’s was at the house, a man I knew. He was angry. We all were. He said to me, “Norma I ought to kill you.” I replied, “Yes, you should.” We both knew he wouldn’t.  But to say it, to acknowledge it, was essential in that moment. I stayed among my African-American friends and all of us talked.

Later that day, it did become too dangerous to go outside. The streets became eerily silent. But Linda sent her 12-year-old daughter, Angela, across the back way to our house with words of comfort written with crayon on a sheet of construction paper which we placed on our refrigerator. (They remained there for a long time.) And then the fires came again, all over the country; 110 cities experienced “civil unrest” and 60, including ours, had huge riots.  The fires next time were now.

Today, forty-five years later, where are we? For one thing, we have vastly more guns, in every neighborhood.  (As devastating and destructive as the riots were, deaths in cities were listed as 6 or a dozen.)  Today fear of the neighbors has intensified. Locked doors are everywhere and the only money some are willing to allocate for schools in need of teachers and resources is for more guns.  What we really need to is to dare to walk around the neighborhood together, unafraid, and unwilling to kill.

On the forty-fifth anniversary of the death of Martin Luther King Jr. Connecticut’s governor signed into law sweeping new restrictions on weapons and ammunition magazines.  The state passed the gun laws in a non-partisan, comprehensive way.  Maryland’s General Assembly on Thursday passed measures on gun control which will become among the strictest in the nation. The bill was sent to the governor to sign.

On the anniversary of King’s death minimum wage earners in fast food restaurants dared to go outside in New York City with picket signs like those of Memphis sanitation workers when Martin Lutheran King Jr. was killed:  “I am a Man,” “I am a Woman.”  If you compare the minimum wage in 1968 to today, workers are making far less. They risk their jobs because they are non-union.  They ask for the right to organize without retaliation or intimidation.  The gap between rich and poor grows and the rights of people to strike have plummeted. We need to be able to go outside and walk together for fairness and justice.

The mindset of many Americans is to be afraid of the black man, but actually White Supremacy groups in the United States have multiplied in recent years.  They are in the news due to murders of officials in Colorado and Texas. On Tuesday, the day before the forty-fifth anniversary of King’s death, the assistant U.S. attorney in Houston who was to head the prosecution of a 2012 case involving 34 members of the Aryan brotherhood of Texas stepped aside citing security concerns. The Southern Poverty Law Center states that there are 1007 active hate groups in the U.S. The respected Center provides not only research but also resources such as “Teaching Tolerance.”  

We dared to walk outside that Friday morning forty five years ago in the quiet before the fires that we feared would come and did.   Today feels eerily similar. So what do we do?  It is not yet too late to call a Senator, call a Representative. In this killing culture we must pass tighter federal gun laws. It is not too late to reverse the trend of holding back fair wages for working people. 

The issues are not easy. Add in North Korea, Syria. . .  All reasons to hide behind locked doors and arm ourselves—to death, or to dare to face each other and say, “We won’t kill each other.” We cannot.

This Sunday our Gospel lesson, John 20: 19-31, tells of the disciples behind locked doors.  But they were together.  Christ appears in their midst. We no longer need to kill each other.  Go and tell, go and act. Do not be afraid.

                                                                                      

 

 

 

Holy Week Words from President Obama's Speech in Jerusalem

President Obama went to Israel as the celebration of Passover nears and as Holy Week begins for Christians. So quickly President Obama flew to the Middle East and back. Here are some excerpts from his speech in Jerusalem that deserve a longer look:

President Obama recalled the story from Hebrew Scriptures: It’s a story of centuries of slavery, and years of wandering in the desert; a story of perseverance amidst persecution, and faith in God and the Torah. It’s a story about finding freedom in your own land. But it’s also a story that holds within it the universal human experience, with all of its suffering, but also all of its salvation.

It’s a part of the three great religions -- Judaism, Christianity, and Islam-- that trace their origins to Abraham, and see Jerusalem as sacred. And it’s a story that’s inspired communities across the globe, including me and my fellow Americans. To African Americans, the story of the Exodus was perhaps the central story, the most powerful image about emerging from the grip of bondage to reach for liberty and human dignity -- a tale that was carried from slavery through the Civil Rights Movement into today.

On Shared Struggle: I bring with me the support of the American people -- and the friendship that binds us together.

We know that here on Earth we must bear our responsibilities in an imperfect world. That means accepting our measure of sacrifice and struggle. As Dr. Martin Luther King said on the day before he was killed, “I may not get there with you. But I want you to know that we, as a people, will get to the promised land.” So Just as Joshua carried on after Moses, the work goes on for all of you, the Joshua Generation, for justice and dignity; for opportunity and freedom.

For the Jewish people, the journey to the promise of the State of Israel wound through countless generations. That’s why I believe that Israel is rooted not just in history and tradition, but also in a simple and profound idea -- the idea that people deserve to be free in a land of their own.

Together, we share a commitment to security for our citizens and the stability of the Middle East and North Africa.

On Diversity: America is a nation of immigrants. America is strengthened by diversity. America is enriched by faith. We are governed not simply by men and women, but by laws. So in Israel, we see values that we share, even as we recognize what makes us different. That is an essential part of our bond.

I stand here mindful that for both our nations, these are complicated times. We have difficult issues to work through within our own countries, and we face dangers and upheaval around the world.

And that’s why Israel has a right to expect Hamas to renounce violence and recognize Israel’s right to exist. And today, I want to tell you -- particularly the young people -- so that there's no mistake here, so long as there is a United States of America -- Atem lo levad. You are not alone.

About Peace: First, peace is necessary.  I believe that peace is the only path to true security. The only way for Israel to endure and thrive as a Jewish and democratic state is through the realization of an independent and viable Palestine. That is true.

The only way to truly protect the Israeli people over the long term is through the absence of war. Peace will have to be made among peoples, not just governments.

Peace is also just. The Palestinian people’s right to self-determination, their right to justice, must also be recognized. Put yourself in their shoes. Look at the world through their eyes. Just as Israelis built a state in their homeland, Palestinians have a right to be a free people in their own land.

There is an opportunity; there’s a window. My third point: Peace is possible. I'm not saying it's guaranteed. I can't even say that it is more likely than not. I know it doesn’t seem that way. There are always going to be reasons to avoid risk. There are costs for failure. There will always be extremists who provide an excuse not to act.

I know there must be something exhausting about endless talks about talks. I'm sure there's a temptation just to say, “Ah, enough. Let me focus on my small corner of the world and my family and my job and what I can control.” But it's possible.

I ask you to think about what can be done to build trust between people. That's where peace begins -- not just in the plans of leaders, but in the hearts of people. Not just in some carefully designed process, but in the daily connections -- that sense of empathy that takes place among those who live together in this land and in this sacred city of Jerusalem. You must create the change that you want to see. Ordinary people can accomplish extraordinary things.

Look to a future in which Jews and Muslims and Christians can all live in peace and greater prosperity in this Holy Land. I am hopeful that we can draw upon what’s best in ourselves to meet the challenges that will come; to win the battles for peace in the wake of so much war; and to do the work of repairing this world. That’s your job. That’s my job. That’s the task of all of us.

President Obama’s speech in Jerusalem needs to be remembered during holy seasons and beyond. Whether or not his trip was a “success” may depend upon his words taking root in the Holy Land and beyond.  A brief trip, but words at the airport brokering a telephone call, re-established diplomatic relationships between Israel and Turkey. Words have power.

Who Becomes Pope Matters to the Rest of Us

 Two years before Vatican II, I was consecrated a Lutheran deaconess. My uncle, a Roman Catholic, could not come to the service because he believed his church would not permit it. A week ago, I, now an ordained Lutheran pastor and seminary professor, was guest lecturer at a Roman Catholic University in Florida celebrating the 50^th anniversary of Vatican II.  How things have changed!  Vatican II helped usher in a time of ecumenical dialog with churches of the Reformation.

So why talk about Vatican II at a time when cardinals meet in Rome to choose a new pope? Because their choice matters to the rest of us. Oh, not the way news coverage often gives the impression: as though the pope of the Roman Catholic Church were the leader of all Christian church bodies.  He is not. Rather because the leadership of any faith body impacts the way all religions do or do not interact respectfully and productively for the common good of the world.

Our family lived in inner city New Haven, Ct. during the 1960’s where “living room dialogs” between Protestants and Roman Catholics on how to put faith into action led to establishing Christian Community Action, which to this day provides help, housing and hope to those who are poor in New Haven.

The Schools of Theology of Dubuque, including Acquinas Institute (Roman Catholic), the University of Dubuque Theological Seminary (Presbyterian) and Wartburg Theological Seminary (Lutheran), after students and faculty worked together to hold back the flooding waters of the Mississippi River, became one of the first ecumenical theological consortiums in the world.

Each October people walk for CROP (Communities Responding to Overcome Poverty), appreciating one another and the fact that we of many faiths can do much together to say “no” to the injustice of hunger. On Thanksgiving Eve people join together in Dubuque for an interfaith service. The offering supports PIN (People in Need).  

Dubuque Area Christians United is now Dubuque Area Congregations United, becoming interfaith.  The mission: “Through prayerful dependence on God and respectful cooperation with each other, we will make a difference in our world by fostering an awareness and understanding of human need.”

Change is not without resistance, however. Forces of fear push back. We Lutherans speak not just about the Reformation but about being an ongoing reforming church, particularly toward justice and peace.  And there are still promises of Vatican II to be realized. That historic three-year assembly (1962-1965) would change the way the Roman Catholic Church viewed themselves, their church and the rest of the world.

The Reformation and Vatican II breakthroughs provided radical new possibilities for all kinds of people to serve within the church and to make significant vocational contributions to society. There was a break from reliance on authority in a person’s determining what to think and what to do in the world. 

The restoration of unity among all Christians was one of the principal concerns of the Second Vatican Council. Pope John XXIII said that the unity of the Church was the compelling motive for his calling the Council.

Today our challenge is not more narrow, but even more broad.  I often say, whether in the classroom, a faith community, a neighborhood, city, or the world itself, “How do we set and maintain trustworthy environments for us to be difference together?” How do we appreciate a healthy pluralism where leaders encourage and empower people of faith to become actors in the drama of being agents of change for the sake of the world?

Pope John XXIII said frequently that he convened the council because he thought it was time to open the windows and let in some fresh air. For some that became a gale force. The changes didn’t stop when the Mass ended. Women and men in religious orders started taking on causes. It hasn’t stopped. This summer Nuns on the Bus rolled across this country calling for just economic policies.

We live in a time when people in the public sphere both watch and reject religious leaders. The role of clerical leadership in the community has been redefined. Today the greatest gift leaders--parish pastors, diaconal ministers, bishops--can bring is a sense of God’s calling to serve our neighbors, working together with leaders of other faith communities, non-profit organizations and the network of civic leadership.

More challenges call. For example, the new group, a "Culture of Nonviolence Coalition," including people from a wide variety of Dubuque religious and community groups met for just the third time last Saturday, discerning which actions to take at the local, state and federal level to address our culture of violence.

What ecumenical and interfaith experiences are you part of today? What challenges lie before us as we are called to work together in a world in need of justice and healing?

 

"Just Me," Just a Few, Can Begin to Make a Difference

There were just 42 of us, sitting around tables at St. Mark’s Community Center in this small Midwestern city of about 60,000 but we all knew why we were there. This was only the second meeting of the newly formed Dubuque “Culture of Nonviolence Coalition.” Mary, the chair of the steering committee, invited us to go around and introduce ourselves and tell if we were from a group: Dubuque Peace and Justice, NAACP, B.V.M. “Just Me,” Franciscans, Quakers, “Just Me,” Rescue Mission, Unitarians, Loras College (Roman Catholic), “Just Me,” Wartburg Seminary (Lutheran), Sisters of the Presentation, “Just Me,” Family Services, Sisters of Charity, Sinsinawa Dominicans, Free Church, Riverview Center, and more …  Many who identified their affiliation as “Just Me,” came because they cared as individuals.  Others knew each other from ecumenical, interfaith and justice networks.  My husband and I had heard about the meeting from one of the many nuns in the room.

We knew why we had come: to address at the local level the national issue of the culture of violence. Gun violence is closely tied to a culture of all kinds of violence. It would have been easy to not meet. After all, it was Super Bowl Sunday.  After all, relatively speaking, one could say gun violence is not a big issue here; our city is the 4^th safest city in Iowa, which USA Today named the 9^th most peaceful state in the union.  But the fact is people all over this nation are realizing that gun violence anywhere calls for citizen participation everywhere. And a culture of violence pervades every corner of this nation.  

The chief of police had been invited to address the group.  The local sheriff came too. Each with decades of service, they provided information the group needed to assess the local situation.  While the murder rate is not high here, changes in state gun laws have changed the culture.  At the state level the seemingly simple change of a verb from the sheriff “may” issue a concealed carry permit to the sheriff “shall,” which went into effect two years ago produced these results: Number of concealed carry permits in Dubuque County: 2008: 122; 2009: 119; 2010:125; 2011:2007.  In January of 2013, 270 permits to carry were issued.  Before the change in law the sheriff could assess if a person was a constant substance abuser or had significant mental health issues.  Now the danger a person carrying a gun could be to the community needs to be legally proven beforehand.

The police chief noted that of course not everyone who has a permit carries a gun around all of the time. Often it’s a matter of “I got a permit to carry because I can.”  He noted carrying a gun around is a big responsibility.  He locks his own guns in a safe.  A few people need permits to carry because of their work, but that number is few.  Both men emphasized the importance of gun safety, and of the need for actual  physical training in how to use a gun.  But now one can in “3 easy steps get certified” by taking the Iowa Concealed safety Training Course  on-line.  A one-hour on-line  training course is not sufficient preparation for a concealed pistol permit, both men emphasized.

The group engaged the guests with questions for over an hour.  We wanted to know.  We wanted real information so that we, together, could act responsibly and helpfully.  By the end of the afternoon it was no longer “just me,” but people informed together.  Not only was the Culture of Nonviolence Coalition grateful to dialog with the law enforcement leaders but it seemed they also were pleased to have come. They both said, “It’s really about social connection, helping people get along better together.  It starts with grass roots efforts.”  Otherwise fear begets fear and perception of my neighbor being dangerous prods one to think, “I need a gun, too.”

The meeting was over at the appointed time of 4:30. Still time to watch the Super Bowl.  We could now all go back to our regular lives. Dubuque would be safe enough.   But, not so fast.  The 42 people in the room had no intention of leaving things at that.  They would meet again.   The steering committee would guide the group.   Should we invite our state representatives next time?  Yes, both a Republican and a Democrat.  We need to focus locally and it’s crucial we watch carefully what’s going on at the state as well as the national level.  And this is the “Tri-State” area.  How do gun permits issued in Iowa affect guns being available in Wisconsin and Illinois?  Towns, rural areas, cities, individuals are never “just me” or even “just us.” We are connected.  We need each other everywhere to work towards and sustain cultures of nonviolence.

But Can’t We Just Avoid the Conversation About Gun Violence?

We’re told not to expect much change anyway. And why do we need another divisive issue in the church. Nothing will change! Unless. . . .

Don’t expect. . . .

But we must dare to expect this time. We the people need to be active because we really do have the opportunity to change our culture of gun violence.  We continue to hear that now is the time for a “Conversation” about gun violence.  This blog is called “Conversations on the Church’s Vocation in the Public World.” “Conversation” is actually a pretty safe word.  Can’t we at least have that?  But, “It won’t make any difference,” we hear and believe.   President Obama in his press conference January 16, invited all kinds of community people, including pastors, to take a lead. Now is the time.

King marched and we the people marched during the Civil Rights Movement, a few of us at first.  Most thought it would be impossible to change a culture of segregation which was a “way of life.”  But the movement grew.  Issues remain: racism, classism, voter suppression laws.  But we as a nation changed.

The “Abolitionists” is on PBS these weeks.  In the 1820’s slaves had become the largest economic asset in the country. Blacks, in great danger, raised their voices but white America, with an institution so deeply embedded culturally, politically and economically, could not imagine turning monetary assets into compatriots.  Slavery was a religious issue. People spoke and wrote and led and fought and so we have the Emancipation Proclamation and the 13^th, 14^th and 15^th Amendments to the Constitution.

Many did not expect Barack Obama to be giving a Second Inaugural speech this January 21, Martin Luther King Jr. Day. Many did not expect him to be elected four years ago. How could one have expect an African American to be president?  But he is, despite efforts to nullify him and and his executive orders. Still people say, “Don’t expect too much from what he said in his press conference.” “He won’t get things through Congress.”

Unless. . . .  Unless we the people become actors in our own drama of change beyond expectations.

Walking through centuries old cemeteries one sees grave stones of small children who died of disease. Families then could not expect all of their children to grow to adulthood.  The same is still true in many nations around the world. But through research and work, we as a nation now do expect our children to grow up; so we experience tragedy when lives are cut short by mass murder.  But I have heard this week, “Of course we can’t stop all the shootings.” Have we come to expect nothing can change a culture of gun violence? On the streets of some cities young people themselves think they may die of gunshot wounds, perhaps in a drive-by shooting, before they reach adulthood.

Not many decades ago in the United States it was expected that when children returned to school in the fall, some classmates would be missing because they had died of polio during the summer. We stopped polio. That change is true almost all over the world except for a few countries. The World Health Organization recently announced a nationwide Pakistani polio vaccination campaign has been temporarily suspended because at least eight Pakistani health workers were shot to death as they administered the vaccination to children. We worked, and are working, to change the expectation that children die from the epidemic of polio. What about the epidemic of gun violence?

At the time of President Obama’s press conference January 16, 900 Americans had died “at the end of a gun” since the deaths at Sandy Hook Elementary school. How many more have died in the days since? Don’t expect much change unless in each community, in each extended family, in each faith community at the local, state and national level, we the people are determined to work together to change a killing culture.  Death and life are issues that Christ calls us to care about. Christ’s death and resurrection free us to be agents of life in a death denying, death-defying culture.  

We can expect gun laws to have little effect unless we pay attention to the ongoing legislative process. About ten years ago then Kansas Representative Todd Tiahrt was able to place amendments (the wording of which was approved by the NRA) in a congressional spending bill that significantly weakened law enforcement efforts to prevent gun crimes and prosecute gun offenders. While some components of the Tiahrt Amendments were improved in 2007 and 2009, several damaging provisions continue to tie the hands of law enforcement. Background check records are still destroyed within 24 hours. ATF still does not have the power to require dealer inventory checks to detect lost and stolen guns. Cities and states are still restricted from using trace data to fully investigate corrupt gun dealers and traffickers.  What can we expect? We can insist that Congress confirm the appointment of a director for the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives. The NRA will literally call the shots unless. . . .

On Martin Luther King Jr. Day my husband and I will attend a breakfast here in Dubuque at the Grand River Center overlooking the Mississippi River.  We have done this for years. It began as a small group, then moved to local Loras College dining hall. Now families, high school and college students, business people and more gather. People are participating in not just a day but a weekend of service all over the city. We will not take guns to the River Center. Likewise a small group of people has begun to organize here, energized in part by nuns, to help this community address issues and causes of violence, all kinds of violence. The group will gather for the second time February 3.  What should we, together, dare to expect? To work, to walk, to “like, share and tweet,” to organize, to persuade congressional representatives and senators who say they will simply vote against anything. Nothing will change.  Unless. . . .

Dignity? Violence? What Images Do We Have of Ourselves?

 

A joint session of Congress met Friday, January 4, to certify the results of the U.S. presidential election held last November 6^th.  Tellers read the results of the states and the District of Columbia one by one:   “The certificate of the electoral vote of the state of Connecticut seems to be regular in form and authentic and it appears therefrom that Barack Obama of the state of Illinois received 7 votes for president and Joseph Biden from the state of Delaware received 7 votes for vice president…” “The certificate of the electoral vote of the state of Kansas seems to be regular in form and authentic and it appears therefrom that Mitt Romney from the commonwealth of Massachusetts received 6 votes for president and Paul Ryan from the state of Wisconsin received 6 votes for vice president.”   No guns. No violence. It was dignified, even inspiring in its quiet way. The outcome, of course, had been known; the win was substantial: 332 votes for Obama/Biden to 206 for Romney/Ryan.

Three Fridays before a different set of numbers.  Guns. Violence. We know those numbers, too: 20 children, 6 adults killed in Newtown Connecticut.

The Task force on gun violence President Obama appointed, being led by Vice President Biden, is to address the issues of mental health resources, keeping society from glamorizing guns and violence, as well as tightening gun laws. Will they as a task force, will Congress, will we as a nation truly engage the images we shape for ourselves and change what needs to be changed? 

The issues are complex. Granted. I offer no simple solution. But I do know this: “What was the motive?” isn’t the only question.   Real life violence is not merely a mystery novel.   Surely each of us is a mixture of motives not easily decoded. And the question, “What ‘triggered’ the assailant?” with its ironic verb, only conceals long term causes.

Likewise we must not be satisfied with “studies-do-not-show” arguments meant to settle the issue.  In the field of statistics there is a vast difference between “cause and effect” and “correlation.” And even when studies show “no direct correlation,” usually only one or a very few factors can be researched in any given study.  We need to look honestly at the image of guns and violence in our society, and really see the formative effect of having guns in the home and of our addiction to ever more violent films and games. Games also play us.  Statistics provide some information, but not enough understanding.

What shapes us as individuals and as a people may be hard to quantify but is observable. How are we formed? What environments, images and actions will we choose?

On another Friday, Dec. 21, President Obama spoke at the Memorial Service for Senator Daniel Inouya at the National Cathedral in Washington, D.C.   The heart of his message was an ordinary yet profound story of his traveling at the age of 11 with his mother, grandmother and sister on vacation on the “mainland,” watching television in motels at night when the networks were all showing the Watergate hearings. Barack Obama remembers as a boy seeing Senator Inouya, from his home state of Hawaii, with dignity and wisdom playing a part in restoring democracy to a nation on the edge. Obama said, looking back, that those images began to shape his formation of being a public servant.

Formation may include one event (in my case the death of my father at age 11), or many, of vacations with family, or no vacations, living on one street or another, what we see on the way to school.  We are shaped by one another, and formed in community.  In a culture which statistics show is becoming “spiritual but not religious,” the images these past weeks of the power of faith communities and interfaith services should not be underestimated.  Faith communities to have a role in creating places of love and care and inclusion.  Acceptance, respect, care. We can choose these.

What we see and experience has a formative affect on who we become, what we do, our purpose and mission in life. There are enough real-life struggles of poverty, illness, abuse, that we need each other in order to create supportive, nurturing communities, not invest in violence or commit ourselves to combative ways of relating.

The news image that we saw Jan 4 was not that this democracy once again made a transition, as it does every four years, without guns, without violence, but “Republicans getting their troops ready for battle for three more fiscal fights.”  We heard this might “sideline” other concerns such as fixing immigration and infrastructures, working on clean energy production and climate change, as though this is all a sporting event with eyes fixed only on the final minutes of the game. The Violence against Women Act was allowed to expire. House Majority Leader Eric Cantor flatly refused to bring the Senate bill to a vote unless stripped out was protection for Native American women raped on tribal lands by non-native men. Violence is accepted; dignity denied. What are our commitments and their formative effects? How are we shaping each other?

Where do we go after the Shootings in Newtown?

At the one week anniversary of the shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary, a community school, the church bells toll across the country, and the media satellite trucks slowly leave Newtown. Where will they go next?  Will we as a nation continue to focus our attention on the epidemic of gun violence or has our addiction to violence grown so serious that we cannot even recognize it?

President Obama spoke compassionately and eloquently at the Interfaith Service last Sunday and again to the Washington Press on Wednesday. 

An impertinent reporter’s question made the evening news.  Coverage did not include the president’s words that in the 5 days following the massacre, people had died all over this land each day: a police officer gunned down in Memphis leaving four children without their mother; two killed in Topeka; three people shot inside a hospital in Alabama; and a 4-year-old victim of a drive-by shooting in Missouri.  “Where have you been?” we should ask ourselves.  Where have the cameras gone since Newtown?

The memorials have been helpful for a grieving nation. Here in our town our church held a prayer service open to the public and all sorts of people, previously strangers to one another, came. The nation has learned how to bring candles and Teddy Bears to memorials.  What else can we do well together?

PBS New Hour shows in silence at the end of broadcasts the names and pictures, as “they became of available,” of military personnel killed in Iraq and Afghanistan. This week  they showed in silence the names and pictures of those killed at Sandy Hook Elementary.  What would it mean if every week they showed the names and pictures, as they became available, of those killed by gun violence in this nation?

Where will the cameras go to help us not to forget, to help us recognize our own addition to gun violence and to give us the courage to act?

To South Chicago? To Midwestern smaller cities? To the mountain states? Everywhere!  

I’ve listened this week to stereotypes of “other” parts of the country.  “Rural” to some implies people who love having guns.  “Urban” or “Inner City” implies “dangerous,”  non-white.  And yet the mass shootings at schools have as often been by white males in suburban or ex-urban  settings.   

Our family lived for nine years in an inner city area in Connecticut, our children attending a community school. The school was at that time “legally condemned” which meant they did not have to provide a safe playground or music, the arts, physical education, etc.  So we in the neighborhood worked together to provide these things for everyone’s children.   While schools and school safety has increased in some places since then, the gap between the rich and the poor has intensified.  Do you “move to a safe place where there are ‘good’ schools”?  We’ve learned that gun violence happens everywhere. And we need  good,  safe community schools for everyone’s children wherever they live.   President Obama has continued to say, “all children.” 

It will take all of us, President Obama said, mothers and fathers, sons and daughters, law enforcement officers, mental health workers, pastors, gun owners, all of us.  It will take courage. What images have we seen? Yes, we are told we see “guns flying off the shelves” at Walmart.   But I’ve also heard of buy-backs going on all across the country: a city in New Jersey; a small town in Illinois; local neighborhoods; even churches and stores.  Thousands of guns have willingly been turned in.  Will news cameras show us this? 

We have to believe that this nation that has 5% of the world’s population and ½ the guns can change if we want to be an example in the world. We have to believe that we can cure ourselves from the epidemic of gun violence that plagues this country. And we can start, as President Obama said, with what the majority of Americans want, banning the sale of military-style assault weapons and high-capacity ammunition clips.  He called on Congress to confirm the appointment of a director for the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms, something they have refused to do for 6 ears.

Or we could go the other direction, buying  bullet-proof backpacks for our children, arming teachers. Foolish!  The epidemic grows. Fear begets fear.

Guns beget guns.

And ads for semi-automatic weapons to the contrary, guns don’t make men more manly.  The power to shoot more and faster does not make one stronger or wiser.  Men also beget life. It’s not about shooting,  but nurturing life.   Can we shape communities of compassion and care, claiming together the blessed power of giving and preserving life, all life, everywhere? What will we see?