tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35598310972477930712024-03-14T11:33:37.517-04:00Spirit of Hope DetroitBeing a Follower of the Way
in Detroit, 2012. The Rev. Matthew Bode, living life in the city. Spirit of Hope, a community of justice and welcoming for the outsider in the name of a loving God.Dave Morinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15424689579599915811noreply@blogger.comBlogger21125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3559831097247793071.post-22249661830121288602013-03-13T17:14:00.001-04:002013-03-13T17:14:53.214-04:00Sermon, National Week of Prayer for the Healing of HIV/AIDS<br />
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">John 9, Balm in Gilead Lent 4 March 10, 2013<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Spirit of Hope, Detroit, The Rev.
Matthew Bode<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> The prophet, Sam Cooke,
has said, “</span><span style="background: white; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;">There been times that I thought I couldn't last for long,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>But now I think I'm able to carry on<span class="apple-converted-space">, </span>It's been a long, a long time coming, But
I know a change gonna come, oh yes it will.” Today is a serious day. Today is
Balm in Gilead Sunday. And we are here today in the spirit of the thousands,
the millions who have died from AIDS. Those who have come before us, whose
names were never even spoken by their families for the shame they felt. The
sadness, the preventable tragedy that the world, the church, stood by and has
watched as a bystander, often times without compassion, much less a sense of
justice.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"> Before we
get into all of that. Before we understand all of these issues. Before we get
too heavy, let’s recognize that a change is coming. Can we say this? As Jesus
walks to the cross getting closer to Good Friday, a change is coming. God is
intervening, and the spirit is even entertaining good news. Some hearts, and I
am not saying enough hearts now, but some hearts are beginning to melt. Some
parts of the church are becoming somewhat less blind. I know it’s not a high
measure of success, but a change is coming. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"> Drugs,
medications, are transforming lives and the way we look at this disease. Cures
and vaccinations are not here, but perhaps one day. Gay people, disproportionately
affected by HIV, once completely ignored or oppressed in this world, are in some
areas receiving some equity in how they are treated, and how they live in
society, and even in a handful of churches. A change is coming.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"> We are slowly, but
surely, beginning to talk more about sex, and safe sex, even in our own
churches. We are beginning, even if just a little bit, to treat the disease as
the enemy rather than the person with the disease as the outcast. A change is coming. We have recognized the
scripture and held it close. (</span><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">2
Corinthians 4:8-10) “We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed,
but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not
destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of
Jesus may also be made visible in our bodies.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> In
our bodies. The life of Jesus may be visible in our bodies. Our imperfect,
sometimes fragile, always perplexing, water-based bodies. The life of Jesus is
visible in our bodies. Whoa. Afflicted, persecuted, struck down, bodies show us
the life of Jesus! Blind bodies. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> I
hope you heard this story from the gospel today. The disciples see a blind man
on the side of the road. And being the curious students of theology and Bible
that they are, they asked Jesus a question, the question asked by every three
and four year-old since the beginning of time. Why? Why is this man blind,
Jesus? And then they qualified it, like good church folk do. I know you caught
this. Is he blind because he sinned, or because his parents sinned? See, we may
think that is silly, but that was the world view of the time. God, in their
mind, created all affliction, all disease, all, or at least most, bad things
that befall a person. So there must have been a reason that this man was born
blind. He was blind, so he must be a sinner. They were not blind, so they must
be righteous. And Jesus answered, no. This man was not born blind because of
anyone’s sin. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> Let’s
ask that question in a different way: Jesus, why does this person have HIV? Is
it because he is gay or because he is a drug user? In what way is he different
from me, that I might have no responsibility to care about him, that I might
know that he is a sinner, but I am not? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Has anyone here ever
had it all figured out before? I mean, help me out. You know exactly what God
is doing in your life. You are faithful. You have good sense about you. People
even tell you that you have good sense about you. People like you. They come to
you for wisdom because you have good explanations about how the world works.
You have good experience. You go to church, and you are a good church person. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> Everyone
in this gospel story, with the exception of Jesus and the man who was born
blind, is a good church person. They know how this is supposed to work. The man
is blind because of a sin, and he is getting what he deserves. I am not blind,
therefore I am less of a sinner than he is. Everything makes sense. Everything
is in its proper order. You belong here, I belong here. We have a structure.
Let’s stick with it. We can be comfortable. We don’t have to question anything.
Life makes sense.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">And then this Jesus,
this wandering preacher/teacher/healer person who claims to have the authority
of the Son of God, helps this blind man to see. And the whole order is
completely messed up, jacked up if you allow me to be vulgar this morning. I
won’t go further than that. Things don’t make sense anymore. The man who was
born to be over there, is now over here and I don’t know how to deal with that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">And, hopefully we have
enough humility about ourselves to say, there’s nothing quite like a good
church person who just had their realities questioned. “But, you belong over
there, and I belong over here. What do you mean this Jesus brought you over
here? You were a beggar. You sit on the ground. Covered in dust and dirty. In
fact, I cannot even believe that is you. You cannot be one of us. You are a
sinner. I am a good church goer. We cannot be together. We have never done it
this way before.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> Our
church has never let those people in here before. We have always understood
those people to be dirty, sinning, disgusting people. They don’t belong. They
certainly must deserve their plight. We need to keep them away from us so we do
not get touched by their sin. Those sick people. “</span><span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">Then I go to my
brother<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>And I say brother help me
please<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>But he winds up knockin'
me<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Back down on my knees<span class="apple-converted-space">.” Ha, and right then and there, Jesus walks into
church, right down the center aisle, and says, “A change is gonna come.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> About
thirteen years ago I spent a month in Tanzania. It was my second trip back
there, but this time was different. A seminary classmate and I were going to
spend some weeks living with and learning from caregivers and patients who were
living with HIV or AIDS. We stayed with a service agency of doctors and nurses,
all Tanzanians. They operated their own non-profit because at the time there
were very few government hospitals who would deal with AIDS patients in a
compassionate manner.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> One
particular day I was doing home visits with one of the nurses. We would visit
patients, walking several miles a day around the city of Morogoro, and see how
they were doing. Usually we visited women because the men were too ashamed to
seek treatment or help. There, like here, those with HIV are often treated like
they have a social disease as much as a physical one. At the time I was pretty
good with my Kiswahili, and so my nurse companion, who had quality
relationships with all of these patients, had me lead some of the medical
questioning. I would ask and she would listen to and follow the responses. One
of the most important questions is finding out how people are eating. So I
would ask them how their stomach was feeling. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> Now, in
Kiswahili the word for stomach is “tumbo.” But I didn’t use that word. Instead
of tumbo, I would say tembo. Now, they sound close, but they don’t mean the
same thing. All day, I would ask people about their tembo, and they would
laugh. Even if they were not feeling well in their stomach, they still laughed.
See, tumbo means stomach, but tembo means elephant. So all day I was asking all
of these patients if their elephant was hurting. Where they able to keep food
in their elephant. So later I asked the nurse why she did not correct me. And
she replied that everyone was having such a fun time with it, why mess that up?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> Imagine the
possibility, of instead of judging one another, striving to categorize one
another, we decided to laugh with one another. Instead of trying to determine
someone else’s sin, we worked to keep ourselves compassionate. What if, just
throwing this out there now, the church was the first place to talk about sex
in a healthy, real way instead of the last? What if the church was the first
place that tried to be honest instead of the place that tries to sweep everything
under the rug. What if we good church people were the first people to show
God’s love, and we did it instinctively. No committee meetings, no love the
sinner hate the sin, dishonest, ugly platitudes designed to make us feel good
about discriminating against other people, keep order but still keep people
out. That phrase, “love the sinner and hate the sin,” is about the most ugly
church phrase that has ever existed. We put the word love in it to hide our
spite, fear and discrimination against those we label “sinner.” That’s not real
love. What if we actually decided to love each other fully for who we are, no
conditions? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">What if we became a
part of the change that’s gonna come instead of fighting against it? Part of
the body of Christ instead of striving against him. Loving and embracing his
people rather than stepping on them. Recognizing that Jesus’ love for all
people includes you. And if it includes you, you have no reason to be jealous,
hateful, spiteful, exclusive or even rude to anyone else. What if we knew that
a change is gonna come? That in the cross, all things will be transformed. The
outsiders become the insiders. The haters become the lovers. Death becomes
life. Struggle becomes hope. Dark nights become bright days. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"> Jesus told
us that a change is gonna come. And then he showed us. His body became a place
of healing. His touch brought people together. And it does still. Hold onto the
cross, sisters and brothers. Be transformed. Be healed. It’s already started. A
change is gonna come. </span></span><span style="background: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14.0pt; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Matthew Bodehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00157769622438442731noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3559831097247793071.post-11579486867653872512013-03-01T16:25:00.000-05:002013-03-01T16:25:05.015-05:00Condoms and the Cross<br />
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Is it possible to righteously use these two words in the
same sentence? Condoms and the cross.
The former labeled by the church a sign of human depravity and
immorality, our fall from grace and God’s disappointment in our loss of purity.
The second is the most venerable physical sign of Christian orthodoxy and the
place where we believe that we become reconciled to God. Those who value and
appreciate one certainly would not value the other, would they?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj0TyWzmxdR9fNuH3gUfD9MPG20y70eJxrfymKfdhyphenhyphenXRu1QTCD59Sb-YzwA3oOhKZS7fbmkK4YVCrQ8RJLzTDrCCe2ItRUNoCve7pDx5YipSQDpNAWje7TfvB2cXdm44GFz639bx3MJbxF/s1600/condom1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="132" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj0TyWzmxdR9fNuH3gUfD9MPG20y70eJxrfymKfdhyphenhyphenXRu1QTCD59Sb-YzwA3oOhKZS7fbmkK4YVCrQ8RJLzTDrCCe2ItRUNoCve7pDx5YipSQDpNAWje7TfvB2cXdm44GFz639bx3MJbxF/s200/condom1.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl8A-xEajwx7ih0hwWYR6GGy9-jquMpJtjcvTTrbHe7j6kmSSJT0lHtfr52R5_6bljjC2dwRFUnmJevV4ucg0SPThUg-RvtHA0XtNvnalHGGPAKQBC6WVvZjPOzY69C1_lIuwAWAYzQDu5/s1600/cross.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl8A-xEajwx7ih0hwWYR6GGy9-jquMpJtjcvTTrbHe7j6kmSSJT0lHtfr52R5_6bljjC2dwRFUnmJevV4ucg0SPThUg-RvtHA0XtNvnalHGGPAKQBC6WVvZjPOzY69C1_lIuwAWAYzQDu5/s200/cross.jpg" width="138" /></a><o:p><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Not long ago, our Detroit church restarted a small safer
sex kit distribution program that will grow over the course of the year. It
reaches church members, those who take advantage of our food pantry and community
kitchens, athletes who use our gymnasium and more. Of course the kits include
condoms and other items that make for safer and better sex, as well as
educational materials and a sentence or two of scripture intended to remind recipients
of the love of God and love of neighbor. Thanks in part to Gospel Against AIDS
and the energy of members of our church and community, the program has so far
been a success.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Some have asked us why we would distribute kits with
condoms. Of course the easy and most accurate answer is, “Because people need
them.” Many Christians, however, do not accept that reasoning. Even in 2013, it
seems that the vast majority of churches in most denominations, maybe even most
faith groups, still have a very hard time talking about sex and sexuality. Our modern
Christian cultural rhetoric has taught us that things are changing and the
forever held value of abstinence, sex only in the context of marriage, has
fallen in the past generation or two. (Ask my family elders born out of wedlock
in the 1950s and 1920s about the long-standing practice of abstinence!) It is a frightening time to be in the church
when it appears that our values and long standing cultural teachings are being
challenged by every television show, advertisement and pop culture icon.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Nevertheless, the beauty of being a Christian is not
found in declarations of righteous and unrighteous behavior, but in the person
of Jesus who walked among the people and turned the eyes of the church to the
needs of those who surrounded him. The religious leaders attacked Jesus for
allowing people to do the work to get something to eat on the Sabbath and for
touching people scripture and the religious leaders deemed unclean. I am
certain they would have condemned him for handing out condoms as well. He
always turned the argument, however, from ideological purity to the needs of
the people.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We are in a world, in 2013, with a rapid expansion of
HIV. It is our call as church to meet the needs of the people with compassion,
love and life—changing power. We walk with people in their lives, all of us
changed when we authentically love one another as neighbors. The traditional
teachings of the church, of abstinence-only sex, are so far from the reality of
our culture that it is time we understand the needs of the people and respond
rather than living in the ivory towers of supposed moral righteousness. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It is immoral for the church not to respond to the spread
of HIV. In fact, it is doubly immoral for us not to respond because we are
responsible as an institution for discouraging honest talk and loving behavior.
In the 1980s and 1990s we, as church, contributed to the isolation of HIV
patients and led a supposed moral crusade against those who did not live what
we determined to be righteous lives. Even if we did not actively isolate those
with HIV, or those at greatest risk for the disease, we were silent when others
who called themselves Christians did so. As in any crusade, many people died.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As HIV takes a breath, digs in its heals and begins to
grow again in this era, we as Christians have the chance to redeem ourselves
and live our faith. When we talk about sex openly in the context of trust,
respect, honor, love and honesty rather than on the platform of religious
purity, we are more authentic to the faith. We also stand a better chance of
changing peoples’ lives for the better.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When we offer safer sex kits, a wall comes down.
In almost every case, whether received by members of the church or strangers, a
bit of unhealthy fear of the church and religion begins to fade. We are able to
have a real relationship with each other, and even with God. The cross is the
place where fear goes to die. Liberation and freedom take fear’s place. The
cross is the perfect symbol of the power of transformation. As church, may we
be transformed by the cross enough to be honest with ourselves, our own people
and the world around us. Honesty for us means we need to distribute safer sex
kits. It is time we loved people as much as our ideologies.</span></span><br />
Matthew Bodehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00157769622438442731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3559831097247793071.post-58539595647471305302013-01-11T09:18:00.004-05:002013-01-11T09:18:27.821-05:00Guns, Fear, Faith<br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">My first scare with a gun caught me completely off guard. A
person in my community took a head first dive into a deep depression, finding
solace in nothing but a bottle. The depression had become so severe that
someone close to him came to me for support and to investigate what was going
on in his apartment. No one had heard from him for weeks and we went to find
him in the bright sunshine of an early afternoon. We heard no response after knocking,
so we opened the door with a key, making sure to make as much noise as possible
as not to alarm him. The apartment smelled like bad body odor. Empty bottles of
cheap vodka lined the one wall and the person we came to see was at least
thirty pounds lighter than the last time I saw him. His drunken stupor was
disturbing enough, along with his anger at us for interrupting his day. He
lifted up the pillow where he had been laying and revealed a black handgun.
While I know very little about handguns, I knew it carried at least a few
rounds in the clip. Thankfully his severe drunkenness had taken away any
physical or mental ability to use it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Guns are a part of life in Detroit, and in all of our major
cities. After twelve years doing work in this city I love, very little about
guns is shocking. Even after living in four different neighborhoods, all
considered safe, it is not uncommon to hear gun shots, mostly young people
shooting into the air as a cheap form of fireworks and entertainment. When I
recently approached a neighbor and told him my house would be empty for a week
while on vacation, he made it clear he would be protecting it with his shotgun.
What can a person say but, “thank you”?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As the debate about gun control and regulation escalates
this year, the reality of gun life in our cities has not surfaced in the
largest media outlets. Fear of guns and fear of gun owners tend to dictate the
boundaries and terms of our discussions. What if we stopped living in fear? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Not long after I came out of the closet as a gay person to
one of the congregations I served, a very mentally unstable person threatened
me over the phone. Twenty minutes of rambling, psychotic messages were left on
the church voice mail, including a gun threat. She was certain that someone
would be bringing a loaded gun to the next church meeting. The police and a
lawyer friend diffused the situation. In our world, guns are most often used to
intimidate, threaten and create fear.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Faith and wisdom lead us away from fear and into confidence.
The roots of all of the major religions lead us to find peace in God and one
another. Of course true faith and wisdom are not ignorance or naivety, walking
into dangerous situations without an understanding of that danger. Rather, they
are a counterbalance to the irrational nature of fear and its cousins,
ignorance and hatred. Guns, and especially assault rifles and high magazine
clips and all the related weapons that go with them, are sold on a premise of
fear, ignorance and hatred, depending on America to empty our individual and collective
wallets. Gun manufacturers want us to be afraid. Our fear, especially of one
another, makes them more rich. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">More guns do not create more safety. If there was a gun on
me the day I was carjacked, I would not be alive today. An addict needed a fix and
my car and my wallet would get him closer to what he needed. The broad daylight
boldness of his offense rocked my world for weeks. The small revolver in his
hand remains burned in my mind. Somehow the federal debate about guns has yet
to speak to this reality. Gun advocates would want me strapped. A gun however
would not heal my fear, but increase it. Fear makes people dangerous.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It would be irrational and impossible to gather up all the
guns and destroy them. It is far too late for that. Still, we must acknowledge
that the cold, impersonal nature of firearms helps us remain cold and
impersonal with one another, and allow us to threaten those whom we fear,
almost completely devoid of conscience. Most guns are for people who are
afraid. They are afraid of the uncertain and uncontrollable nature of life, and
in America, we work to control everything. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The first gun I fired was put in my hands by my grandfather.
It was a shotgun for game birds and I was about seventeen years old. That
lesson taught me about respect for the weapon, safety for me and others and how
not to be afraid of something with which I was not familiar. The lesson was
about a gun. Now, in this time, let the debate be about people, that we may
respect each other, build safety for all of us and not be afraid of people with
whom we are not familiar. Guns do not allow us to achieve these goals, and in
fact push us backward toward fear. No civilization has ever survived on fear. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
Matthew Bodehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00157769622438442731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3559831097247793071.post-84831442221806388972012-09-01T23:09:00.001-04:002012-09-01T23:09:46.540-04:00All You Gotta Do Is Say Yes<br />
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Preached this sermon on Sunday, September 2nd at Spirit of Hope in Detroit. It comes from Song of Solomon, chapter 2, verses 8-13.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<img src="http://aliceinsomeotherland.files.wordpress.com/2011/05/intimacy1.jpg" />
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14pt;">Words, words, words. What do
we do with our words. Can I start by talking about myself for a minute, or
something that happened to me? It has to do with words. I put up a blog posting
on the Huffington Post. Or, and I don’t say this to brag or whatever it may
sound like, but they asked me to write something specifically for the national
party conventions that started last week with the Republicans, and continues
this week with the Democrats. They wanted me to talk about poverty, and how we
think it will or won’t be covered by the major parties.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> So, you know me well enough to know that when I write for
things like that, I can be a bit direct. Well, because sometimes we just need
to say what we need to say. People with lower income have less and less power
every year in this country, and at some point people are going to get together
and really change the way things work in this country, rise up, and maybe even
topple the powers that be. I used some more dramatic language than what I just
said now, but you get the idea. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">You
may know that as on most news sites, there is a place at the bottom of the
article, or essay or blog to write comments. So some people wrote some
comments. In fairness some were supportive. But some were not so much. And
while I should know not to read the comments, well, I did.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> In fact, I admit to having a minor obsession over checking
what people are saying about what I write. And, as you know, in internet
comments, it quickly becomes not just about what was said, but about the person
who wrote the article in the first place. Some insinuated that I should not be
a priest, and that I am a communist, and other such things. While my article
was certainly serious, there was a part of me that wanted the commentators to
take a chill pill. Relax for a minute. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">It
happened because the people who wrote, at least in my estimation, refused to
address the issue of poverty with any sense of compassion, much less empathy.
But knowing that doesn’t really help me. These words, these hurtful words,
designed to be hurtful, got to me for a few minutes this week. Maybe words have
gotten to you sometimes. Maybe you have been attacked, whether by a total stranger
or by people who are very close to you. Maybe those words were intended to hurt
you, and maybe they were just carelessly put out there and intentional or not,
made you feel bad. Words have power. Some say sticks and stones may break my
bones but words will never hurt me. Well, I think words do hurt. We can ignore
some, even most bad words, but sometimes they get through. Sometimes they
affect us. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">So
when I saw Song of Solomon this week for today’s scripture I was thrilled! You
have no idea. Or maybe you do. After all that ugly stuff here is something
beautiful. The beauty of God and love just poured out there! We get to talk
about love for just a minute. In fact, the surprise for me was, this is the
second time in a week I am preaching from this text. I preached this text last
Sunday afternoon at a wedding, on the <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:placename w:st="on">Detroit</st1:placename> <st1:placetype w:st="on">River</st1:placetype></st1:place>,
with beauty all around. People and nature, and the river, and all of it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Today
we get to read some love poetry from Song of Solomon, otherwise known as Song
of Songs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> You know we have an open mic here at Spirit of Hope, the
third Sunday afternoon of the month. Among all the things that come across the
stage we have some love poetry that comes to us at Spirit Spit Open Mic. While
I love poetry, sometimes, I hope I am not confessing too much here, I don’t
know the difference between good stuff and not so good stuff. To put it simply,
sometimes I know good poetry, and sometimes I don’t. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> Especially when reading poetry, it is hard to know, at
least for me, what is good and what is bad. Are these beautiful amazing words
of love? “Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away; for now the winter is
past, the rain is over and gone.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Are
these beautiful words, designed to transform love in our hearts, expressing the
deepest beauty of the soul, or is it an easy to memorize cheap poem recited after
a few drinks to manipulate you into bed. These are the things I don’t always
know? Don’t pretend you don’t understand what I am talking about. How many
people have used fancy words, luxurious words, words you thought someone wanted
to hear, but not necessarily what you actually meant, to get what you want? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">What
if the people who put together the Bible put Song of Solomon in the Bible, so people
of faith would have a tool, a poem if you will, to help them go to bed with
someone? I wasn’t there. I don’t know why it was put in! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> Song of Solomon is in the same category as Proverbs and
Ecclesiastes. None of these books talk often, and certainly not directly, about
God; and they really don’t talk about Jesus. They are laden with wisdom and
love and thanksgiving, and sage advice, observations about the world. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> Wisdom literature is generally considered the parts of
scripture that are most feminine, and written in a more feminine voice that
other parts of scripture. In wisdom literature there are times when the male
actively pursues the female, almost aggressively. And there are times when,
well, the female actively pursues the male, almost aggressively. This part, in
the woman’s voice, saying, “come to me, come to me. It is spring, come out to me. Implying, my
arms are open. My heart is for you. Come to me, my love!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> And the beats of Floetry start to groove in the background. "</span><span style="background-color: white;">Loving you has taken time,
taken time, But I always knew you could be mine. I recognize the butterflies
inside me. Sense is gonna be made tonight, tonight. All you gotta do is say yes,
say yes, say yes." (from Floetry, "Say Yes")</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> Is it getting hot in here? Don’t look at me like that. This
is all scripture here. Don’t hide. See, we usually talk more easily about other
parts of Scripture, such as when God wants us to do something, or God does
something to us. But, can we handle it when all the Spirit is putting out there
through scripture words of intimacy, and love, and floetry, if you will? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> Sometimes, maybe you have experienced this, the church
doesn’t always talk well about intimacy, and sex and love and how people get
close. We do but we don’t. We give a long list of the things you are not
supposed to do. But we don’t talk about the things that God wants us to
experience. I hope you hear that we are beyond just romantic love here, beyond
what it means to love a husband or wife, though that is in here too. As is
evident in this scripture, as well as in the rest of Song of Solomon, and
Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes, God uses words to help us get closer to one
another. God uses words to bring us closer to the Spirit. Intimately. Sharing
ourselves. Sharing our deepest, most distant secrets, and feelings. You know,
the things we have shoved so far away that we forget sometimes that they are
even there. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> Intimate, like Jesus touching those he is healing.
Intimate, like praying with someone at their bedside when they are sick.
Intimate, like laying hands on those who need to know they are anointed by the
Spirit. Intimate, like us working together, doing the love of God in our
community. Getting to know one another not just as people across the aisle on
Sunday morning, but as sisters and brothers. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> That’s why I love these words. Oh, these words do amazing
things. These are good words. Good words of invitation. Good words that balance
the sharp, biting, noise that comes across our television screens, that are
pointed at us when we are in conflict, that are used to harm and hurt you, or
us, or your neighbor. Good words are here. Good, loving words. And they are
saying, come in, come closer, come to know me, come along. The winter is over,
it is time for spring! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> Words that reflect the relationship that God has with us.
The relationship that Jesus, and the Holy Spirit have with us. So close to us.
So intimate. Never with a word that will harm you. Never with a word to make
you feel ugly or insignificant. Never with a word that makes you feel less than
you are. Never with a word to turn you with anger or hatred to your neighbor.
Never with a word that moves you away from God, but only closer. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"> Come into the space with good words. Loving words, and a
loving spirit. This is the place where words should not hurt you. And they lead
you to the living word. Lead you to the word of peace. Lead you to the word of
freedom. Lead you to the word of righteousness. That one word, that we say.
That name Jesus. That means more than any other word we can utter. In that
word, we have everything we need. Maybe not to fix everything that is wrong in
our lives, but that leads us to peace. That loving word. That intimate word.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">I
invite you today to know that word, and be doers, and not just hearers. You are
invited into the Spirit. Invited into the love. God is proposing to you today.
All you gotta do is say yes, say yes, say yes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
Matthew Bodehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00157769622438442731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3559831097247793071.post-59095591115378774562012-08-27T17:16:00.000-04:002012-08-27T17:33:08.335-04:00Poverty and National Party Conventions<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi00GUztdD6Ycb-8UjXcEdotkLtJhSrD0dksJCAlIkTb-gu9uV-VVas38ruop1xkR_LxY0D2azP7oQIsplS5jyTShUV5T3RpbDUgb6GwObBCc_r7WwA5NKyDOQzbxEbr8pR1VST7SI4e7a6/s1600/party+convention.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi00GUztdD6Ycb-8UjXcEdotkLtJhSrD0dksJCAlIkTb-gu9uV-VVas38ruop1xkR_LxY0D2azP7oQIsplS5jyTShUV5T3RpbDUgb6GwObBCc_r7WwA5NKyDOQzbxEbr8pR1VST7SI4e7a6/s320/party+convention.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I brought the church van to her house in our neighborhood. She
and her five children needed to get out of the house in the middle of the
afternoon while her boyfriend was out looking for some drugs. The one hundred
year-old wood frame house was falling apart. The front door was only partially
on its hinges and most of the windows were either broken or missing. The house
stank. While the electricity was on, neither a single fixture nor outlet was
safe. About a year later, when another family was in the house, it burned to
the ground. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
On this particular summer afternoon
we loaded the van with all the clothes worth saving, along with some personal
items. I stored them in the basement of the church, away from the sight of
church members, lest expose her to embarrassment. She found a shelter, and
eventually got herself on her feet. Her children today, are at many different
levels of health, mentally and physically. Thousands of Detroiters live this
life every day. Millions are in similar situations all across urban and rural <st1:country -region="-region" w:st="on">America</st1:country>. What
is going to happen when these millions of Americans realize they are a growing
minority, perhaps future majority, stop working just to survive, and revolt
against a nation that does not have their interests in mind?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
As the transfer of wealth from poor
and middle class to rich increases in size and scope never seen before, our
national leaders have grown incapable of speaking the word, “poverty.” If we
hear it even once at either of the national party conventions this year it will
be a shock. At the same time, right wing Christian leaders give these same national
political leaders cover by keeping them focused on issues like opposition to gay
marriage, abortion, wars against contraception, blaming women for rape,
attacking Islam and making up fake causes like battles for religious freedom. (By
the way, all of these causes raise both the politicians and the religious right
huge sums of money.) Meanwhile, they use tiny portions of vast resources to
start conscience soothing food pantries while ignoring the root causes of
poverty and the growing power of the super rich.</div>
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The Christian right may be damning
itself to hell, but the rest of the country does not need to go with it. Christian
history and theology is founded on building power for those on the outside. Jesus,
the embodiment of God on earth, went to the places of deepest division and not
only brought healing, but gave power to those who never had it before. When the
empire of <st1:city w:st="on">Rome</st1:city>
took everything away from them, Jesus gave it back.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Make no mistake about it; the
number of outsiders is growing. While the major parties speak about the middle
class, shrinking from sixty three to fifty-one percent of the population over
the past two decades, they must also speak about the poor. As voter suppression
through de facto poll taxes, the purging of voter records and unconstitutional
targeting of communities of color grows, so will the anger. </div>
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When the
economic and political elites of <st1:city w:st="on">Detroit</st1:city>
got together to begin to address poverty and the disempowerment of its
citizens, their most creative solution was the building of casinos. The casinos
further drain our local wealth and add to the poverty in our neighborhood. The
powers that be did not come to the citizens of our community offering expertise
on Swiss bank accounts, advice on starting a superpac nor an outline to start a
ponzi scheme. Most of us stopped believing in our economic and political
leaders years ago. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Our nation’s history says we only prosper
when we expand and not contract ourselves. Ironically, it is also the message
of Jesus. We prosper when we expand the inner circle and the number of people
connected to the resources of our economy, our political system and our
educational institutions. It is happening outside of traditional structures. In
<st1:city w:st="on">Detroit</st1:city> and
elsewhere we are building our own businesses, at the beginning edge of creating
our own food supplies and at the very start of bringing together communal
interests at a large scale. Those living with low incomes have always done
this. People of color, women, the LGBT community, communities of the disabled
and many more outsiders have always been the creative centers of survival and
hope. However, as the numbers of outsiders grows, so does our willingness to
work together and form new partnerships, perhaps more than we have seen before
this generation. Micro-development, the building of local power and resources,
will be the key to the next generation’s building of wealth in communities of
low income. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The poor,
such as the woman who fled her own home that summer day, will have their power.
It may take a generation or two, but as Dr. King reminded us, the arc of the
moral universe bends, and it bends toward justice. Will justice come through
the working together of community, the leaders and the people they serve, or
will it come with non-violent or violent revolution? We have not hit rock
bottom yet. As wealth continues to be distributed from the poor to the wealthy,
people are beginning to wake up. It may take another generation or two, but if
we continue on this trajectory, revolution will come and it will change <st1:country -region="-region" w:st="on">America</st1:country> forever.
The need for a President <st1:city w:st="on">Franklin</st1:city> <st1:place w:st="on">Delano</st1:place> Roosevelt or Lyndon
Baines Johnson is necessary. Their commitment to addressing poverty and
strengthening the power of those falling through the safety nets saved <st1:country -region="-region" w:st="on">America</st1:country> in
their respective generations. Anything less than such a commitment from the
major parties and their candidates for any office will leave those on the outside
wanting. So far, the party conventions appear to be a repetitive exercise of
political masturbation, a lot of noise and excitement without touching a single
person and producing no results. The future of <st1:country -region="-region" w:st="on">America</st1:country> is held in tension, and if
things keep heading in the direction they are, those of us preaching
nonviolence and peace in communities of poverty will soon lose all authority,
and maybe we should. </div>
Matthew Bodehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00157769622438442731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3559831097247793071.post-932656872754213832012-08-03T13:55:00.001-04:002012-08-03T13:56:15.166-04:00Christians, Heretics, and Fried Chicken<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They are using our name again, calling themselves Christian. They stood in line
for chicken to support the practice of “repairing” gays and marginalizing us to
the point of destruction. They say they stood in line to defend the first
amendment, the right to speak. However, I critique the leadership of Chick-fil-A
because I embrace a faith that goes beyond the amendment of one nation’s
constitution. Rather, I believe in a value system of love that is eternal and a
corporate understanding of justice for all people.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<o:p><img alt="Chick-Fil-A Controversy: Gay Activist Plan Fast Food Protests" src="http://l3.yimg.com/bt/api/res/1.2/3j0iC9aZqjzh3._6qrymCg--/YXBwaWQ9eW5ld3M7Zmk9aW5zZXQ7aD0yODg7cT04NTt3PTUxMg--/http://media.zenfs.com/en-US/video/video.abcnewsplus.com/96f048e978645124972ef3e734470739" />
</o:p></div>
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<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Some customers stated that they were in line silently
standing up for their faith. If part of my faith was to deny certain groups of
people adequate housing, access to medical care, good jobs and then send that
same group to “repairative camps,” you would rightfully call me a hate-monger. I
will just call them heretics. Centuries ago the church would burn heretics at
the stake. In my worst moments I just hope they go home with heartburn.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am a Christian. Unfortunately most people believe the
haters like Mike Huckabee are the Christians. Haters believe that following the
beliefs and teachings of Jesus, arguably the most justice-orientated, inclusive
and loving person in history, leads them to stand in line at Chick-fil-A to
condemn the faggots, dykes and queers. Little do they know they are heaping hot
barbeque sauce upon their own heads. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The lines around the building and blocks of Chick-fil-A were
a reminder to those of us who are progressive Christians how far we have to go.
The disheartening day of August first was depressing even by the standards of
the gay, lesbian, bisexual and transgender movement for liberation. Bigotry
came out of the closet in force that day. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Be not dismayed, however. Yes, we have been beat up, stepped
on, abused, bullied, murdered and marginalized for too long. For every two
steps forward there is one step back. We are the ones who end up on the crosses
of contemporary religious hatred. However, we know we are hated because we are
making progress. We need to turn up the heat. Progressive Christians need to
come out of the closet, and we need to do it in mainstream life every day, not only when a convenient culture clash hits social media.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Haters and heretics are mad because we have the media tools
and compelling arguments to turn the tide from hatred into love. We no longer
accept hatred and discrimination as Biblical law. We will not remain in “our
place,” which really makes the haters and heretics hotter than the oil in a
fryer. Yes, the real Christians are not hating, but loving. We are not seeking
Biblical law to keep others out, but believe in justice that holds everyone in.
</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">For those who just want to eat their sandwich in peace, I
apologize for this interruption. You probably did not make it to the end of
this posting anyway. The opportunities for cultural change are not always
planned or convenient. Sometimes they do not even make any sense. Nevertheless,
here we are, searching for something better, bigger, more loving and more
hopeful than the narrow messages of television Christianity. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Unfortunately, many have been led astray, convinced that
their prejudices are the Word of God. There is part of me that actually feels
for the people outside all those Chick-fil-As.
All those people stood in line around corners and across parking lots,
searching for righteousness and something to believe in. In the end, however, all they got was a
chicken sandwich.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Christian faith is and has always been better than that,
even if the church has not. Defined by love, upheld by hope and driven by a
sense of justice, people of faith are standing up every day, even without
headlines. It is with a sense of anticipation that I await the day when even
the heretics are converted to believers.</span></div>Matthew Bodehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00157769622438442731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3559831097247793071.post-21589721121985598602012-05-23T13:24:00.001-04:002012-05-23T13:58:43.622-04:00Of Rolexes and False Prophets<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrrIZc1UtbjVzlMUYU6tMxw40GPFDLOYXS4Pn0q3p8_nzXTvqU_POlS3yyB0d_aO_8-5xX7tlyr3L7fJGi3ikjP9jE6MydiAwH4sm3dg-536eT11PyGmXyk1E2ndbXw4J33tz6IRl4uwAh/s1600/Love+Money.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrrIZc1UtbjVzlMUYU6tMxw40GPFDLOYXS4Pn0q3p8_nzXTvqU_POlS3yyB0d_aO_8-5xX7tlyr3L7fJGi3ikjP9jE6MydiAwH4sm3dg-536eT11PyGmXyk1E2ndbXw4J33tz6IRl4uwAh/s1600/Love+Money.jpg" /></a></div>
<i style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Of Rolexes and False Prophets</b></i>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">On occasion, on a day of exceptional clarity and humility,
it is possible to see one’s own holy judgment.
It happens when I catch myself in a lie and again when I refuse to
forgive someone who betrays me. But most
recently it happened when a very slight, but very real internal smile fell upon
my heart at the robbery of one of <st1:city w:st="on">Detroit</st1:city>
richest clergy members. With sincerity I
tell you, the smile only came after I learned he was physically well, bruised
but not broken. However, when the dust
cleared and all that was left was a press conference, the smile was real. I lay before you my confession:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.freep.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=2012120520008">The Detroit Free Press reported</a> that the Rev. Marvin Winans
was robbed at a gas station in <st1:city w:st="on">Detroit</st1:city>
by a group of young men, all in the light of day. A clearly unashamed act of violence and
perpetration of ugliness, the young men did what they could to destroy their
victim’s ability to hold on to his possessions, much less his dignity. At the loss of his 2012 Infinity, Rolex watch
and a wad of cash, he was left as a Biblical traveler on the side of the
road. Finally, a person who recognized
his celebrity invited him into her car and carried him to his church home. Ironically, the new church home, a reflection
of his lost Rolex, is not yet completed due to years of financial backs and
forth. When the final bricks are laid,
it will be an honor to the Winans name. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Perfecting Church and the Rev. Winans are part of a
theological movement known disparagingly by its critics as prosperity
ministry. An extra-biblical theology,
prosperity roots itself in a particular kind of American capitalism, the kind that
made slavery profitable and women’s suffrage a threat. (Women tend to vote for policies that help
the poor more often than men do.) This
particular brand of capitalism, endorsed by slave owners and prosperity
ministers alike, upholds a false theology that claims God blesses through
wealth. In fact, it often, even usually
does not matter how that wealth is obtained.
As long as one has it, one is blessed by God. Rich people are blessed. Poor people have yet to receive their
blessing. Your blessing is achieved
while becoming a slave to the pursuit of more stuff. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Prosperity ministry relies on self-absorption and the
orientation of life toward the acquisition of material goods, such as Rolex
watches. When a person’s core value is
the acquisition of wealth, it makes sense that people who do not have wealth,
will do whatever they need to get it.
The Rev. Winans recently lived through the obvious result of his own
preaching. While I certainly do not know
the circumstances of the young men who perpetrated this crime against the
reverend, it can safely be assumed that they wanted what he had. They wanted their blessing too. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The pastor showed his own self-absorption by hoping his
robbery will be a sign for the city to turn around, and that even the governor
is calling him to assure it. A glaringly
noticeable absence in his public comments is recognition of the suffering of
others, beyond his own person, of the hundreds who have been victims of crime in
<st1:city w:st="on">Detroit</st1:city> this
year alone. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Prosperity ministry contrasts itself with a theology of the
cross which stands in the hope of the giving of oneself. Most importantly, the theology of the cross
stands in the giving of God, that God gave up everything to save the
people. Accordingly, Christians are
called to give of themselves in their time, their possessions and their wealth
in the pursuit of love and justice for the world, and value the same things as
Jesus. Namely, we are called to value people
over material goods. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Life in <st1:place w:st="on">Detroit</st1:place>
is hard, yet rich with the opportunity to touch lives with words and
actions. Life in <st1:city w:st="on">Detroit</st1:city> is the holiest ground for a true
gospel of the cross. The only way to see
the amazing life of the city is to give up oneself. Selfish living is the beginning of the
emptying of hope. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When pastors, preachers and politicians speak about the
downfalls of our city from the cowardly built walls of ex-urban security, they expose
the idiocy and selfishness of their own selves.
When the true prophets of large churches climb into the pulpits they
will encourage the members of their vast, upper middle class congregations to
move their lives to <st1:city w:st="on">Detroit</st1:city>. They will encourage their membership to pay <st1:city w:st="on">Detroit</st1:city> taxes, to build
and rebuild neighborhoods and become the holy population base necessary to have
a thriving city that truly loves its own people. Unfortunately, so far we are only hearing the
pompous and impotent cries of holy men (almost always men) rallying around the
useless cries of lost moral values. The
word justice, other than for the return of their Rolex watches, never crosses
their lips. A true prophet however,
would move his or her wealth blessing into the city, and leave its profit as a
prophetic witness to the struggle of equity for the poor, and the young men who
no longer see hope in wealth. </span></div>Matthew Bodehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00157769622438442731noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3559831097247793071.post-62069371043825166842012-05-10T20:48:00.001-04:002012-05-10T20:48:36.408-04:00Gay Christian Money<br />
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Perhaps the only symbol more recognized by Christians than
the cross is the dollar sign. Purists
are filled with angst when we mention such realities, but those of us on the
ground understand that without money good things are much harder to
accomplish. Without money we are not
able to support staff, whether pastors or ministers, administrators or youth
mentors who do good things. Finances
supply food programs, educate preschoolers and provide assistance to the
poor. Buildings that serve as gathering
spaces, shelters for the lost and outcast take funding to operate. Good things happen with money. Money is not bad, nor is it good, but is a
tool to do good or bad in the communities we serve. </div>
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<o:p> </o:p><img alt="Stock Illustration - rainbow dollar
symbol on dollars.
fotosearch - search
clipart, illustration
posters, drawings
and vector eps
graphics images" height="200" src="http://comps.fotosearch.com/comp/CSP/CSP398/rainbow-dollar-symbol_~k3983429.jpg" width="188" /></div>
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Giving <st1:country-region w:st="on">USA</st1:country-region>
estimates that $101 billion was given to religious organizations in 2010. It is an astounding number that represents
the power of religion in our culture.
The lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender community is represented in
that $101 billion. In fact, if we very
unscientifically assume that about ten percent of the church and its tithing
members are from the lgbt community, more than $10 billion dollars comes from
our pockets to the church. Add to that
number the giving of allied heterosexual families, and the dollars may be staggering. $15 billion?
$20 billion?</div>
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In the Christian tradition we give because God calls us to
give of ourselves. Whether we take the
Biblical mandate of ten percent, or another figure, we do it because we know
that giving is a sign of faith. Giving is
an acknowledgment of a wider group of believers that is bigger than the simple
individualistic relationship of me and God.
Traditionally, tithing was intended to support the outcast and the weak,
literally the widow and the orphan. </div>
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Why is it then that so many lgbt people and our allies are
tithing to churches that do no such thing when it comes to our community? We are tithing to churches that seek to “re-program”
us, isolate us, condemn us, or give us phony platitudes such as “Love the
sinner, hate the sin.” Many of us live in the closets of our own
churches, supporting the very institution that would prefer we did not even
exist, and in some cases actively pursues policies and practices that try to
eradicate us. </div>
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Unfortunately, every day, I am fighting you. As an out Christian Lutheran and Episcopal
clergy person I am abused every day by you.
Your tithe to your church that condemns lgbt people is being used
against me, and millions of other people, including you. You are, however, my brothers and sisters, so
let me make some suggestions.</div>
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Like you, I need to give of myself. Tithing is not a habit, but a deep part of our
beings, a way of showing gratitude, even on the days when it is hard to find
something for which to be grateful. Do
not stifle your tithe, but send it somewhere else. Send it to Christian congregations that are
working for full inclusion, not only of lgbt people, but of women, and people
of all income levels, races, and cultural backgrounds. Many of us exist! Your church might pretend that we are as rare
as a snowball in hell, but we are here in a much larger abundance than you may
imagine. Open your eyes to the powerful
spirit of inclusion that is around you, preaching to you and teaching you love
in the strangest of places. If that does
not work, google us. </div>
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When you need to be in that church, even if every week, with
your mother or your grandmother, we know you need to be there. Coming out is a process only you can know is
right for you. (Ten years ago I was closeted
and in the pulpit.) Please, however,
stop tithing in that place. Take a
dollar bill and put it in a bright clean envelope, and place it in the offering
place, but send the tithe to us.</div>
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If for some reason sending that tithe to an inclusive church
does not suit you, find a community organization that does good things, that
shelters lgbt people who are abused, or that supports youth or elderly members
of our community. Even send it to the
campaign office of the president of the <st1:country-region w:st="on">United States</st1:country-region>. After all, in these past months, he has done
more to teach God’s love for the lgbt community than your church ever
will. </div>Matthew Bodehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00157769622438442731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3559831097247793071.post-37390911111240760512012-04-27T14:59:00.002-04:002012-04-27T14:59:58.932-04:00Teaching Power in Detroit<br />
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The conversation starts something
like this – Me: I think you would be great to lead this project. Response:
Oh, Pastor, I just couldn’t possibly do that. </div>
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Sometimes the above response is merely
an act of humility. Yet it may also be a
natural response to deny one’s own gifts, and especially the skills and
abilities others see in us. But in <st1:city w:st="on">Detroit</st1:city>, conversations
like this take on special importance. We
are a city that has been abandoned by the powers that be, where the safety of
our block is mostly up to us, and the beautification of our neighborhood
happens only on our own watch. When we
deny our own abilities, we also deny our own power.</div>
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The Bible talks about power. In Acts chapter one, Jesus is about to depart
the world and leaves the work to the few but dedicated followers who
remain. Jesus tells them that the Holy
Spirit will come upon them and they will “receive power from on high” (New
Revised Standard Version). In this case Jesus
is telling them that they will survive, come together, be sent out, and so
forth. It is known among Christians as
the beginning of the Church. Jesus could
have said a lot of things will come upon you: confidence, faith, fearlessness,
hope. Yet he said, “power.” It is an important word.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWu_Cil4yHq9-ODNCL62iXH9is6pbI63oZ5RDR1s412PCHOjrWiZ_8BxeHUIzOM0FHxrQaH8mV4mroWc0i5pyLbrxtECpyFBU4XtrGxxlYYpzH2dZr04U0LlkF59qdds16qJmmaXj7kiFv/s1600/flowers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWu_Cil4yHq9-ODNCL62iXH9is6pbI63oZ5RDR1s412PCHOjrWiZ_8BxeHUIzOM0FHxrQaH8mV4mroWc0i5pyLbrxtECpyFBU4XtrGxxlYYpzH2dZr04U0LlkF59qdds16qJmmaXj7kiFv/s320/flowers.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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Power is the ability to get things
done. The basic foundation of community
organizing teaches that organized people and organized money, in short, power,
is the most effective way to accomplish our goals. Unfortunately we have taught ourselves that
power is a negative thing. Really, we
let others teach us such nonsense so that they can keep power for themselves. The culture of mainline Protestantism teaches
that we are to be humble, which easily translates into giving up our
power. Such teaching is dangerous,
especially to people of color, women, people of low income, the lesbian, gay
and transgender communities, and anyone who lives under a system of
oppression. </div>
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Teaching people to have less power
is safer, easier and more expected, but it is also oppressive and
destructive. Teaching less power forms
the basis of all forms of oppressive systems, including racism, classism,
sexism, heterosexism and more. Here is
what they hope we believe: In order for you to have power, others must have
less. For African Americans to have
access to higher education, it must mean they are asking people of European
descent to stop going to college. To
allow lesbian or gay people to have access to marriage or health benefits must
mean we are asking heterosexuals to redefine their own marriages. Neither example is true.</div>
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Corporations, government entities, development corporations
and more teach us in <st1:state w:st="on">Michigan</st1:state> and <st1:city w:st="on">Detroit</st1:city> that we are part
of the problem, not part of the solution. Power, however, is not a finite resource, and
we can have it. In fact, we do. <st1:city w:st="on">Detroit</st1:city>
will turn around, and does every day, when we understand the power we have to
transform the way we function. The rules
placed upon us are only rules if we choose to follow them. Every day we must remind ourselves that this
is our community and we have the power to change it. We are the powers that be. We remind ourselves every day because each
day structures and interests are telling us we are not.</div>Matthew Bodehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00157769622438442731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3559831097247793071.post-12459281180019713622012-03-08T18:19:00.000-05:002012-03-08T18:19:07.453-05:00Street Level Religious Freedom<div class="MsoNormal">As the National Week of Prayer for the Healing of AIDS continues through Sunday, March 11<sup>th</sup>, thousands of Detroiters are living with HIV. Rates are high, but we do not know how high since reporting is still relatively inaccurate due to several economic, cultural and social factors. The ministries of Spirit of Hope reach many positive people each month. Some of our guests do not know they are positive, but many more do. While some are on the protease inhibitors that modern medicine has made possible, others continue to struggle with issues of unstable income, ever changing housing situations or the insobriety that keeps them from the drugs that will prolong their life. Fear and ignorance compound the problem, creating confusion. The health status of many begins to decline when the urgency of treatment is ignored. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><o:p><img src="http://www.nationalweekofprayerforthehealingofaids.org/images/NWPHABannerLogo.jpg" /> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p><br />
</o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">So, what if a doctor, clinic or health provider, in the midst of all of this chaos, decided not to treat people with HIV because it was against their religion to treat diseases that can be transmitted sexually? Preventing the spread and providing treatment for HIV infection and AIDS is a difficult task in <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Detroit</st1:place></st1:city>. Nevertheless, hundreds of individuals through various health agencies break their backs and risk their hearts to get to the streets and reach those who will allow themselves to be reached. It is saintly work. Balm in Gilead, Gospel Against AIDS, AIDS Partnership Michigan and many others do the hard work. The question begs to be asked again: What if that doctor, clinic or health care provider decided not to treat people with HIV because it is against their religion to treat diseases that can be transmitted sexually?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The doctors, clinics and health providers receive federal grants, insurance subsidies and public services. Do they have a right to deny services because of their beliefs, or does the funding they receive negate their ability to protest?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">A well-known young adult shelter is located down the street from Spirit of Hope. A religious institution, they appropriately receive government grants and services, along with private money, to do the important work of sheltering the hundreds of <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Detroit</st1:place></st1:city> young adults left out of the system every month. The public and religious partnership assures enough resources to create a successful program that neither on their own might be able to do. Yet the staff is known for its mistreatment of the lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender community. Mistreatment may be an understatement. Bullying and abuse from resident to resident happens under the staff’s watchful eye, not only without protest, but sometimes with affirmation. Former residents and staff have confirmed this. Do the principles of religious freedom allow this organization to discriminate and abuse some clients even though they receive public money? </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">A wing of the religious establishment is up in arms in our country today because they are being required (but not really because of exceptions allowed by the president) to cover contraception for women. Many, but probably not all, of those religious-based health care centers receive public funding of some sort. Do they have the right to deny services?</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">When will wealthy men lose health services and have their lives put at risk because of supposed religious freedom? Progressive Christians, admittedly not getting the microphones much in this debate, know the truth: The Christian faith is being used by conservatives to abuse, discriminate against and mistreat members of our families, communities and churches. The reprehensible arguments are cloaked in deep ignorance of the lives of those on the edges and fueled by fear of people who look, think and live differently from religiously conservative parts of American culture.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Religious freedom does not give license to deny health care access to the sick, abuse the LGBT community or criminalize being a woman. Neither does the Bible. The neighborhoods and streets of <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Detroit</st1:place></st1:city> are the living highways of public and religious policy. Let us get out of our heads and open our eyes to the reality of policy and its affects not merely on corporate or partisan American politics, but the consequences on the ground in our own families, faith communities and neighborhoods. Life is too short to let the powers that be play games with our sister and brother’s health and well being. Start the fight by getting your HIV test. You can do it confidentially and for free during worship at Spirit of Hope this Sunday, March 11th. That is true religious freedom at work.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><img alt="Balm in the Gilead Logo" src="http://www.nationalweekofprayerforthehealingofaids.org/images/BALMLOGO.gif" /> </div>Matthew Bodehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00157769622438442731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3559831097247793071.post-25978317900267814112012-02-22T16:14:00.000-05:002012-02-22T16:14:27.056-05:00Spiritual LGBT Life in Detroit<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSGUmmBO5-ZEy7xmd5m3WqQw6aXOGXRMmkK9coOzR_9532h4xI2-Tqwez5RA_vAN2mwW9WMGfOYSQplRXY0gFwN6JF8nmw62MzOVQtDqPFVobhrMp83K0nVlgVxPWqf6V36PKWLoyuzsBE/s1600/Funky+rainbow.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSGUmmBO5-ZEy7xmd5m3WqQw6aXOGXRMmkK9coOzR_9532h4xI2-Tqwez5RA_vAN2mwW9WMGfOYSQplRXY0gFwN6JF8nmw62MzOVQtDqPFVobhrMp83K0nVlgVxPWqf6V36PKWLoyuzsBE/s320/Funky+rainbow.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Not one month into my tenure as pastor at Spirit of Hope in <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Detroit</st1:place></st1:city>, the first guest in our community kitchen came out to me with his positive HIV status that was threatening to develop into AIDS. It counts as one of the most humbling moments of my life. A twenty-six year-old spiritual student of life, allowed to wear a plastic collar attached to his neat black dress shirt, is exposed to the reality of a man one generation older who lives on the streets. The man and I still talk regularly, but I do not know how or if he defines his sexual orientation, nor do I know anything about his sexual activity or gender preference. I do not even know how he contracted HIV. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Many in our Spirit of Hope community who define themselves as lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender are with us in the first faith community that ever accepted them. Not only our members, but many we serve and with whom we live in our near west and southwest sides of <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Detroit</st1:place></st1:city> are estranged from family, friends, their home faith communities, their workplaces, neighbors and more. Yet the differences between the LGBT community defined in our church community, and the publicized and funded arm of the movement fighting for deserved civil rights, are all about economics, race and often even gender. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As the national conversation about the rights of the LGBT community revolve around marriage, our local community focuses on survival, on the man who came out with his HIV status. While I do not know his sexual orientation, I do know that the LGBT community here has embraced and supported him. At the risk of over-dramatization and negating the joy that outweighs the hurt in our community, it is not unheard of for our people to face beatings, homelessness, health risks and just plain loneliness in a world that is hostile to their, and our, very existence. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Marriage issues are important. Marriage rights put front and center the reality of the existence of LGBT people in our country. Marriage rights, when achieved, will increase the visibility of people suffering from oppression throughout our community. Yet we in the movement must be careful, because marriage rights must not be our final goal. The goal must be the lifting up of all members of our community in every context and reality of our peoples’ existence. Marriage is one of many tools to achieve that goal, but not the only one. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The prevention of HIV, the housing of those who are rejected by family and friends, the building of relationships across racial and gender lines while being aware of systems of discrimination and prejudice, the use of our wealth to build long lasting systems of hope and the support of our LGBT elders who never had the luxury of being fully out must be at the top of our agenda as well. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Nine years ago, not long after I talked to the man mentioned above, I walked three blocks from Spirit of Hope to a local, more fundamentalist Christian youth organization that has a strong influence on many youth in our community. In those three blocks, I walked past abandoned and falling structures, one functioning drug house and several groups of youth milling about at bus stops and on street corners. Upon my arrival, one of the adult advisors at my destination informed me that the biggest threat to our youth is the rapid expansion of lesbianism in <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Detroit</st1:place></st1:city> high schools. It was as if there was a Santorum bubble around this man that did not allow him to see reality, including the reality of a gay pastor standing before him.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Faith leaders must step forward now to teach and, if necessary, to shame those who abuse outsiders to uplift their own moral righteousness. Soon we begin the annual National Week of Prayer for the Healing of AIDS (<a href="http://www.nationalweekofprayerforthehealingofaids.org/">www.nationalweekofprayerforthehealingofaids.org</a> ). Women’s history month is here in March. Pride celebrations begin in June. Every day of the year we have an organization supporting and sheltering youth in <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Detroit</st1:place></st1:city> and vicinity (<a href="http://www.ruthelliscenter.org/">www.ruthelliscenter.org</a> ). We must lift up all of our community and get out of our spiritually neutral closets. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And to my fellow leaders in the establishment LGBT fight for justice, we must turn our eyes to our entire community. Race, gender and income are serious parts of our struggle. It means even more risk for our entire community that lives at the precipice of demoralization every day, especially in <st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Michigan</st1:place></st1:state> where beating up the LGBT community is a conservative sport. It may not feel like we have privilege, but comparatively, many of us do.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We have strength in numbers. Even battered and journey-weary travelers have power in the binds of common purpose. More people are on our side than we think. And even when we cannot see it happening, conservative shackles always yield to the spirit of justice that resides in the base of our historic living faiths. Truth always wins, even if it takes time to come out. Let us all come out together.</span></div>Matthew Bodehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00157769622438442731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3559831097247793071.post-56681992865992173322012-02-17T15:20:00.000-05:002012-02-17T15:20:26.237-05:00Faith Groups a Detroit Lifeline<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOvzWTea_Pkdkc-YFFzPfIsJ3-A2x7VnLYz-Hhs3YXpfmH-G_J_lXCnXivfqhN5CWpmvgWGNCAOAwmfKYk01_kWlZtKSezjpJn6v52_8Hq4u5vJiYj28hPB6-QSVDQbSAtIzJVNxhUU1yW/s1600/SoH+Outside.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOvzWTea_Pkdkc-YFFzPfIsJ3-A2x7VnLYz-Hhs3YXpfmH-G_J_lXCnXivfqhN5CWpmvgWGNCAOAwmfKYk01_kWlZtKSezjpJn6v52_8Hq4u5vJiYj28hPB6-QSVDQbSAtIzJVNxhUU1yW/s1600/SoH+Outside.bmp" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Every now and then I get the strangest looks walking into a group of hip, relatively new Detroiters working on development plans for the city or our church neighborhood. The looks come because I am wearing my clerical collar. Even when without the uniform, my presence is often questioned with side glances, questioned expressions or hesitant greetings of “um, nice to see you.” </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">What do you do with a clergy person at a development meeting? Or when planning new street art projects? Or building a board for a new non-profit? Am I there to give them lectures on abortion, gay marriage or contraception? (Pro, pro, and pro, just for the record.) Do they think I am going to take up a collection? (Well, only if they ask me.) Worse yet, will I try to “save” all of them in Jesus Christ? (I usually do not carry my life preserver.)</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Spirit of Hope (<a href="http://www.spiritofhopedetroit.org/">www.spiritofhopedetroit.org</a> ), the Christian community where I serve as pastor in <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Detroit</st1:place></st1:city>, serves almost 11,000 free meals a year. We give out 50,000 pounds of food in our pantry. Thirty young men are mentored every year in our Pray and Play Basketball League. We built Spirit Farm, four city lots of love to grow food for ourselves and our neighbors that also beautifies a stark major intersection in the city. Forty people attend our weekly Spirit Spit Open Mic. Forty families are served each year with our own Sunshine Community Preschool. Countless neighborhood meetings, projects and programs are launched from our property annually. We clean up local vacant lots, parks and the streets. We provide a place for some to dry out from their addiction, be welcome in their HIV status and find power in their respective sexual orientations or gender expressions. Addicts who lost everything at the casino down the street come by for gas money or a ride. And yes, we do have Sunday morning worship where we praise God and participate in the sacrament. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">So yes, we have opinions and a stake in the future of our neighborhood and our city. We will be at every table possible to influence the physical, cultural, environmental or spiritual direction of our community. Hundreds of small and middle-sized congregations all over <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Detroit</st1:place></st1:city> are making a difference. When people fall through the cracks, we are there. And in <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Detroit</st1:place></st1:city>, hundreds fall through the cracks every day. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">While those who grew up in the city usually know the value of faith communities to <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Detroit</st1:place></st1:city>, many newcomers near the center-city do not. Of course Christian leadership of the past several generations has done a phenomenal job of alienating, abusing and hurting people, something for a later blog post. Nevertheless, the micro-level work of countless churches has been essential to <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Detroit</st1:place></st1:city>. Many neighborhoods would not exist today without them. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">As <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Detroit</st1:place></st1:city> development becomes more foundation-based and government grant-orientated, smaller organizations, including faith communities, are being left out of the conversation. It is our responsibility as those communities to make sure we are at the tables of influence and cross streets of decision-making. However, without community power-brokers paying attention to the faith-based work going on in their neighborhoods, they will miss a massive resource. Without the street-based voice and experience-soaked souls of the faith community, decision makers and resources holders will fail in understanding significant dynamics of the places they seek to transform. The largely hands-off approach of mega-church non-profit corporations, local foundations and government agencies cannot make up for personal relationships that are the building blocks of our communities. Of course faith communities are not the only places these relationships happen, but they are among the oldest, most stable and most reliable. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Still, many are hesitant to work with us. Yes, we will challenge. We will bring up issues of class and race, and the more progressive of us will also name gender and sexual orientation as places of justice that must be planned for in development projects. (I remember some years ago, as I began to speak at a development corporation meeting, a member cursed me out under his breath out for bringing up the issue of racial injustice, again.) However, it is better for difficult and life-changing conversations to happen at the beginning of a project than the end, when opportunities for buy-in and local support are long gone. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Lutherans, Episcopalians, Baptists, Methodists, Presbyterians, members of the UCC, and hundreds, even thousands of others are here sweating and loving this city. We ignore them at our own peril. </div>Matthew Bodehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00157769622438442731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3559831097247793071.post-81960485964984074902012-02-14T15:19:00.000-05:002012-02-14T15:19:00.989-05:00A Big Failure<div class="MsoNormal">In a conversation this morning I was reminded that I am a failure. That was not the intention of the person speaking with me, but a conclusion I came to on my own. It is a striking realization. After four weeks of a mini-sabbatical, it has been difficult getting to a place of reflection, debriefing, healing and letting go. Perhaps more than nine years of significant failure takes its toll on the back, shoulders, head and heart of anyone living and working in a place like ours in God’s city of <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Detroit</st1:place></st1:city>.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The truth is Spirit of Hope fails far more often than it succeeds. I am not going to say that twice because it is hard enough the first time. More people go back to their addiction than come out. For every victory at Spirit Farm we encounter two more obstacles. When new souls come to the community they bring their gifts, but also their baggage. As many people reject us for being welcoming to same gender loving people as embrace and admire us. With every place we provide positive change and improvement in our neighborhood there are several places that get worse. No matter how much change we affect, the push back against us seems so much stronger.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Spirit of Hope fails in programming all the time. We believe we have the greatest idea, support from the community, and the tools to make it happen. Somehow, it flops. If we were a sports team we would be up for the first round draft pick every year because we always have the worst record. Still, without question, the only ministries, events and programs that matter have come from major failures. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Wisdom knows, in the midst of failure, whether to abandon a ministry or program altogether, or modify it for improvement. Wisdom knows how much to invest oneself in the heart and life of another person, knowing that person is likely to abandon the love being offered free of charge. Wisdom grants strength to heal, dream and hope even when clouds of heaviness seek to weaken, harm and depress. Wisdom is the spirit of hope that has become the very stitching in the seams of those who work for love and justice and change. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Sitting at the feet of Dr. James Cone at Union Theological Seminary in <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">New York City</st1:place></st1:city>, just a few weeks after the events of September 11<sup>th</sup>, 2001, when our nation was screaming for blood, he reminded his students that Jesus was a failure. A success would have made Jesus king or emperor, embracing his teachings and making his words and calls for justice the mainstream thought of the culture. However, Jesus died poor, rejected, and murdered for his beliefs and his lifestyle of bringing liberation to the people. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Failure is a lifestyle. All those who dip their toe into the pond of justice work will find it cold and treacherous. Not many, especially not many with privilege, will stay there long. The failure becomes too heavy of a burden and the water is too deep. Yet failure is necessary, because every now and then the powers and clouds of ugliness and oppression yield because they cannot take it any more. The push, the wind, from those who are not afraid to be failures, becomes too strong for them to remain in place. </div>Matthew Bodehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00157769622438442731noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3559831097247793071.post-56438150006538887562012-02-10T14:37:00.001-05:002012-02-10T16:07:39.109-05:00The Woman In the Sun<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></o:p><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqA7Ph-wQqvUp8FU7_9fzz28i1KsCEccnHp0eZED8EtH9bDuYCtYC776D1ErhAzICR5dVoXCwZz58901mi6y0wQnM7qN_VC43sBjbZzawA4Zp61N91iwVXcniAC0YwTvgcV_DpLft9yhQ/s320/parchment_the_woman_at_the_well.jpg" /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As she removed her shirt, exposing her breasts to the late day Detroit sun, I crashed the lawn mower into the sign that said, “Spirit of Hope.” She is exposed, changing clothes in a space without walls. Across the street from my lawn mower crash, the western rays were catching full glimpse of her curves and beauty marks, while her face showed no sign or irregular thoughts or discomfort. She was half naked at the bus stop at a very busy six-way intersection, and she didn’t seem to care.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The men on my side of the street looked my direction and wondered what the reverend would say and do. The best I could do was a shrug, and continued mowing as if nothing unusual was happening at the bus stop, to the woman at the well, across the street. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This sister’s exposure and Mary Magdalene scandal became the fuel for hen-ish male conversation, gawks and lustful glares. Exposed to the world, her issues were laid before us in a way we men on our side of the street would never understand. She was naked, her issues lay bare before the world. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We are in a neighborhood where a woman’s struggles are exposed. In Rick Santorum’s <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">America</st1:place></st1:country-region> the scandal was a naked woman at the bus stop. How dare she expose herself to anyone that walks by? Whatever will we tell our children? In our Detroit neighborhood, the scandals are a lack of affordable housing for this woman, lack of mental or physical health treatments if she needs them, not enough police to protect her from harm and not take advantage of her themselves, more liquor and drugs than quality food in the neighborhood, not enough quality early childhood centers. I can list many more scandals exposed by her undressing that day.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This woman is getting naked on a corner of judgment, where naked women of her kind, her ilk, are scrutinized every day. Judged by men in suits sending out proclamations of righteousness while remaining behind closed doors with blue pill erections. Placed into categories of hopelessness by those who know them least, but who judge them best. Exposed to the world? Many have no choice. Always naked no matter how many sets of clothes are in their bags or on their back. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">With her new shirt in place, she reached for her waistband, and in one fell swift motion pushed her loose-fitting pants to the ground, underwear too much of a burden on such a day as this. The cackling of the male hens crescendo as necks twisted heads in this direction and that. Her former outfit was placed neatly in her bag, a new pair of pants pulled out in a deliberate, not too hurried, not too slow, dressing process. With all in place, the awaited bus pulled to the corner, consuming the rays of the sun that once fell upon this naked human sister, and she was gone. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I choose to think her only exposure that day was that of her naked flesh. It is the only thing I can see clearly, without further assumptions, guesses or pseudo-psychological evaluations or judgments. I don’t know a thing about her issues. But perhaps if we all got to know each other a bit better….</span></div>Matthew Bodehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00157769622438442731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3559831097247793071.post-36421885892540394232012-01-07T17:04:00.000-05:002012-01-07T17:04:36.604-05:00The Baptism of a Dead Teenager<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZlhv_ekv8UwN8Qlabxy4H1wn-rLzUFg7QiuQlMlyW_rBeL14TTBNpUHok-96TzBjNhj7BbrexTi3g7du9Rjt6UgPdtQbi96F_g24naZIxCV9HUeqN5ycA2z-Sw8cM8_bktk6oqW3AhXSM/s1600/flame.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZlhv_ekv8UwN8Qlabxy4H1wn-rLzUFg7QiuQlMlyW_rBeL14TTBNpUHok-96TzBjNhj7BbrexTi3g7du9Rjt6UgPdtQbi96F_g24naZIxCV9HUeqN5ycA2z-Sw8cM8_bktk6oqW3AhXSM/s320/flame.jpg" width="168" /></a></div><br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">The title is jarring, but it is the only one that comes to mind. The certificate is sitting right here - a baptism certificate for Andre. He had been visiting Spirit of Hope with his best friend for some time when they both declared their intention to join the church and be baptized. As the day came closer, Andre was less consistent in his attendance. Time passed and his friend was baptized, but Andre dropped out of sight. The certificate was prepared and ready. He would come back, right? It was set aside.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">A few months later, two years ago January 7<sup>th</sup>, we learned that Andre had died. He had been baptized into a different life. In a day of poor decision making, he tagged along on a robbery with an older acquaintance with great influence on him. It was the house of a police officer, and Andre was shot as they tried to enter. And he was gone.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Andre is gone, but his baptism certificate remains, never baptized. At least once or twice a month I look at it on the shelf in my office. In a world as intense as <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Detroit</st1:place></st1:city> it is easy to lose track of a sister or a brother. We lost track of Andre. Damn it.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Tomorrow, on the day of the year when the church recognizes the baptism of Jesus, we are going to burn that certificate at Spirit Farm, along with prayer cloth and other sacred items. As the prayers turn from cloth and marker into dust, ash and smoke, they will be put into the universe. So will the potential of the life of Andre and his baptism.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">With time, ash and smoke turns into hope. Part of Andre’s name is in the name of one of the babies in our congregation. It does not feel like a lot of power, but it is something. Baptism of the Spirit, by the fire of the Spirit, will live past the few minutes of the fire we start tomorrow. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">May the fire of the Spirit lead us to watch out for one another, bother and cajole one another. May the fire of the Spirit teach us. May it open our ears and our hearts. May it burn in us the memories of the failures and the victories. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Teach us, Spirit. Baptize us every day. Grab us. Hold on to us. Do not let go.</div>Matthew Bodehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00157769622438442731noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3559831097247793071.post-3172739235888203912012-01-04T12:24:00.000-05:002012-01-04T12:24:38.781-05:00Even when I’m crazy….“Even when I’m crazy, God is still God. God has me when I’m crazy.” So says a person I know who struggles with paranoia and bi-polar disease. He was in the middle of one of his occasional paranoid rants some time before worship began. After a few minutes of a routine I now consider normal, he paused and looked around the sanctuary. That’s when he said what he did.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Paranoia seems to be the only rational reaction to life on our streets right now. Four women, allegedly somehow tied to the sex industry, were recently found dead on the other side of the city. Food sources are drying up so quickly it makes my head spin, and the Detroit News today reported there might be a billion dollar surplus in the 2011 state budget, which many people in power are declaring a victory. The budget was balanced almost exclusively by raising taxes on the elderly and slashing funding to all levels of childcare and education. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w_qnsX_I2WE/TwSKIEvI8qI/AAAAAAAAADw/ZQ45SKFMiIU/s1600/help-detroit1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w_qnsX_I2WE/TwSKIEvI8qI/AAAAAAAAADw/ZQ45SKFMiIU/s320/help-detroit1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
It’s official, I am paranoid, and it feels completely rational. It is January 4<sup>th</sup> and we have not yet had snow in <st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Michigan</st1:place></st1:state>. The lakes are not frozen over. We cannot keep warm clothes in the Spirit of Hope clothing pantry before they disappear to those who need them. The preschool is about ready to dry up in funding, and a few thousand extra dollars show up, unexpected and brilliant. There was an earthquake just down the road in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:state w:st="on">Ohio</st1:state></st1:place> the other day, caused by fracking.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It was New Year’s Day Sunday and everyone was expected to be at home asleep recovering, and we had nearly regular attendance numbers in worship. I feed the fowl on a cold morning and Auntie Roberta, the large white Spirit Farm turkey, rubs against my legs like a cat looking for affection. By 8:30 in the morning I see more people I know in the Family Dollar than I do in the neighborhood bar 8:30 at night. The budget is never balanced but somehow there is just enough.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Nothing is predictable. Maybe it never was, but it seems even less so now. The massive amount of unpredictability leaves people without stability, reliability and a sense of peace. Even positive, unexpected change has a way of throwing people off, leaving us with a sense of paranoia. I cannot help but think of the man possessed by demons, hanging in the tombs near the Gerasenes. Jesus confronted that man as if nothing was unexpected or unusual. Maybe Jesus understood the man’s insanity was really quite rational. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Even when I’m crazy, God is still God. God has me when I’m crazy.</div>Matthew Bodehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00157769622438442731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3559831097247793071.post-77149418174184928742012-01-04T12:23:00.000-05:002012-01-04T12:23:33.984-05:00Even when I’m crazy….<div class="MsoNormal">“Even when I’m crazy, God is still God. God has me when I’m crazy.” So says a person I know who struggles with paranoia and bi-polar disease. He was in the middle of one of his occasional paranoid rants some time before worship began. After a few minutes of a routine I now consider normal, he paused and looked around the sanctuary. That’s when he said what he did. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Paranoia seems to be the only rational reaction to life on our streets right now. Four women, allegedly somehow tied to the sex industry, were recently found dead on the other side of the city. Food sources are drying up so quickly it makes my head spin, and the Detroit News today reported there might be a billion dollar surplus in the 2011 state budget, which many people in power are declaring a victory. The budget was balanced almost exclusively by raising taxes on the elderly and slashing funding to all levels of childcare and education. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w_qnsX_I2WE/TwSKIEvI8qI/AAAAAAAAADw/ZQ45SKFMiIU/s1600/help-detroit1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w_qnsX_I2WE/TwSKIEvI8qI/AAAAAAAAADw/ZQ45SKFMiIU/s320/help-detroit1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="MsoNormal">It’s official, I am paranoid, and it feels completely rational. It is January 4<sup>th</sup> and we have not yet had snow in <st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Michigan</st1:place></st1:state>. The lakes are not frozen over. We cannot keep warm clothes in the Spirit of Hope clothing pantry before they disappear to those who need them. The preschool is about ready to dry up in funding, and a few thousand extra dollars show up, unexpected and brilliant. There was an earthquake just down the road in <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:state w:st="on">Ohio</st1:state></st1:place> the other day, caused by fracking.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">It was New Year’s Day Sunday and everyone was expected to be at home asleep recovering, and we had nearly regular attendance numbers in worship. I feed the fowl on a cold morning and Auntie Roberta, the large white Spirit Farm turkey, rubs against my legs like a cat looking for affection. By 8:30 in the morning I see more people I know in the Family Dollar than I do in the neighborhood bar 8:30 at night. The budget is never balanced but somehow there is just enough.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Nothing is predictable. Maybe it never was, but it seems even less so now. The massive amount of unpredictability leaves people without stability, reliability and a sense of peace. Even positive, unexpected change has a way of throwing people off, leaving us with a sense of paranoia. I cannot help but think of the man possessed by demons, hanging in the tombs near the Gerasenes. Jesus confronted that man as if nothing was unexpected or unusual. Maybe Jesus understood the man’s insanity was really quite rational. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Even when I’m crazy, God is still God. God has me when I’m crazy.</div>Matthew Bodehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00157769622438442731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3559831097247793071.post-53203902681651231732011-12-16T14:00:00.001-05:002011-12-16T14:00:42.656-05:00Being Lost at Christmas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaqFdJxlEZDqqMvvr5by2Rp7JGHvzHvyDAX68uvF0CIR9zFKwLyN0lyR-S2eUZcDYq3XlArDb5azcQeSOCmOygh8VOrLdznzj64uzbG8aZPNGvNDptuDt35-SX0HAdwIroBC2Lqd64rRUg/s1600/Food+Pantry.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="302" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaqFdJxlEZDqqMvvr5by2Rp7JGHvzHvyDAX68uvF0CIR9zFKwLyN0lyR-S2eUZcDYq3XlArDb5azcQeSOCmOygh8VOrLdznzj64uzbG8aZPNGvNDptuDt35-SX0HAdwIroBC2Lqd64rRUg/s320/Food+Pantry.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">After ten years of as pastor at Spirit of Hope, Christmas has a distinct rhythm. It goes something like this:</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">In early November we start receiving three or four calls a day from those seeking Thanksgiving or Christmas food baskets. By Thanksgiving the donations are coming in and the food pantry is bursting at the seams. Community is built by a big food organizing and packing party, and we begin the Advent countdown to December 25<sup>th</sup>.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The first Sunday of Advent the large wreath is hung, hanging on 75 feet of chains from the tower into the center of the sanctuary nave. The second week the wreaths go up around the walls. By the third week the tree and lights are added. Music begins to shift to the same Christmas songs that are heard on the radio, and we make sure we have enough candles for Christmas Eve Candlelight (6 p.m.!).</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">More coats are handed out as the cold creeps into our <st1:state w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Michigan</st1:place></st1:state> December, and the donations of heavy clothes, especially men’s sweatshirts, jeans and coats begin to roll in. As soon as they arrive they are distributed to the community.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Saturday Community Kitchen becomes a place of Christmas carols, hygiene kits and care packages from partner churches all over <st1:place w:st="on">Southeast Michigan</st1:place>. The number of those served goes up as we become a neighborhood source for a wealth of small items necessary for daily life. Every now and then we are also privileged to distribute some luxuries: aftershave, perfume, and just-out-of-style hats and ties. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">And one more thing happens in my ministry, the pastor’s ministry: the search for the lost. We are not talking about the spiritually or emotionally lost, but those who have physically disappeared. By mid-December there are already three gone, but two of them found so far. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Many people become lost from our community. Sometimes it is a good thing: A sister or brother has found a leg up, has a new opportunity and has moved on. We rejoice over those victories. At other times, people become lost because they can no longer afford the heat in their building. Perhaps an elder died at the hospital, but because they had no family we never heard when or why. I’ll never forget the first time I experienced losing someone who froze to death in our neighborhood, my first January at Spirit of Hope. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Most commonly, a community member will enter the hospital, or move. Phone numbers change or a phone becomes too expensive. One year we lost a transgender sister who went into the hospital. The hospital listed her by her birth name that was on her identification. We did not know that name, so could not find her. Thankfully she healed and showed back up again. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">While the rhythm of placing wreaths and the tree have become routine, the rhythm of losing people still disturbs me. “Where are you?!” Praise God that we search for each other. Even better, God decided to stop waiting for us to find her, and instead arrived in our neighborhood in the form of a baby who looks like us, feels like us, and lives like us. If God can find us, we will keep finding each other at Spirit of Hope. Peace, power and joy.</div>Matthew Bodehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00157769622438442731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3559831097247793071.post-75545740500037182422011-12-06T21:27:00.006-05:002011-12-07T00:32:28.464-05:00Just Plain Queer<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFIoGCYMZxAKhS0iUzbk_2M1eCZhKRytVR60yTtpQvCeOI0TRWMvU_j9y5oGmsE9K1-DS98Jxg6Cs4fNsQSyGRHlyClEKMohtVW-Hn5AS2wKVKWFoRjAQO5N73x9e2iaoMlaHgQfT9fJ1n/s1600/pride+flag.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5683207644351605282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFIoGCYMZxAKhS0iUzbk_2M1eCZhKRytVR60yTtpQvCeOI0TRWMvU_j9y5oGmsE9K1-DS98Jxg6Cs4fNsQSyGRHlyClEKMohtVW-Hn5AS2wKVKWFoRjAQO5N73x9e2iaoMlaHgQfT9fJ1n/s320/pride+flag.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 240px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal">Sometimes enough is just enough. Many things have been making us mad as of late. A series of events and episodes have been adding up over time. They have been adding up for “the queers,” as we are known by Troy Mayor Janice Daniels. <br />
<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">Some days from now she will be just another politician, but for the people she referenced, this is not the first time and it will not be the last. The insults have been adding up as of late. Make no mistake about it, there is a full out war on anyone who is different in <st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on">Michigan</st1:place></st1:state>. There are only so many phony anti-bullying, anti-marriage, anti-benefits, anti-citizenship rants that a community can take. Yes, the mayor questioned our citizenship, our privilege to even be in this world, with her mini-rant and lack of a sincere, apologetic response. <br />
<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">We are <i>queer</i>, but we are also known as <i>those queers</i>. As<i> </i>an out queer pastor, I know the difference. I am queer when gay and lesbian youth have been kicked out of their homes and have no place else to go, ending up on our church doorstep, or the doorstep of an ally who knows us and sends them to us. I am a queer when a parent pulls their child out of our youth program because they learn we are welcoming.<br />
<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">I am queer when adult lesbian, gay, transgender and bisexual adults come out for the first time at Spirit of Hope, the first church in which they ever felt fully welcomed. I am a queer when friends of our members question why they would go to a place where those kinds of people exist openly. <br />
<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">I am queer when someone my grandparents’ age comes out to me, the first person they have ever come out to. I am a queer when I open personal or church email condemning us to hell for teaching people to sin. <br />
<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">As a church we are queer for having fabulous parties that we call Sunday morning worship, where you never know who might show up. We are that church of queers when neighboring ministries condemn us for opening the doors to those they kicked out. <br />
<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">As a church we are queer for performing same gender weddings, and requiring couples to go through pre-marital counseling to build up their relationship for the long haul. We are that church of queers when other local ministries see women that are too manly and men that are too effeminate move comfortably in and out of our doors.<br />
<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal">While I am no theological scholar, I know this much is true: Jesus is not only with those queers, but is queer himself, always on the outside looking in. Hopefully some of those who continue to attack us will one day realize that they are queer enough for Jesus to love them too. And with that, I give up my anger. Peace, power and joy. PMB</div>Matthew Bodehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00157769622438442731noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3559831097247793071.post-50191305936180460702011-12-02T11:38:00.003-05:002011-12-02T11:51:56.160-05:00Reflecting on World AIDS Day 2011<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmr4u832Ge0MZXXyjbguBFliWUUmG1epPJfGy6g_ghp8jDZJ71sDwGJxfwWM29RGUkV2Ka-7hMMc1FYKbYNnjEUe2g_nw1X4fftpnDpfGxNNoy3DwilR_-elHJ0TUcKetIYUVKnWS_s_wi/s1600/AIDS+Ribbon.gif" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 98px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmr4u832Ge0MZXXyjbguBFliWUUmG1epPJfGy6g_ghp8jDZJ71sDwGJxfwWM29RGUkV2Ka-7hMMc1FYKbYNnjEUe2g_nw1X4fftpnDpfGxNNoy3DwilR_-elHJ0TUcKetIYUVKnWS_s_wi/s200/AIDS+Ribbon.gif" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5681574747884256162" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left:.5in">Invincible. Like a person of steel. Impenetrable to the forces of death. No bullet shall prosper. Blood cells of lead, T-cells that no longer need to be counted. Astounded at the power in my body, in my mind. Closed to those whose hatred grows. Evil, falls away at the touch of my fingers. No weapon formed against me shall prosper. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Every year World AIDS Day becomes a bit more personal. Each year in Detroit I know a few more people who are positive or who work in the field of preventative medicine or patient care. Rather than being sad, however, I feel privileged to be able to be a part of the fight against a disease that is stubbornly persistent despite its preventive nature. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">With many diseases, we wait for a random chance. Cancer is genetic in my family. Most of my relatives do not smoke, and the stereotypical cancer-causing lifestyles do not apply to the majority of us. Somehow it still shows up. No preparation. Not a lot to talk about.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Yet HIV gives us a chance to talk, to open up to one another. This disease is challenging us to talk about sex, relationships, and love. HIV is pushing us on our vulnerabilities as communities, almost like a mirror of social ills reflected in our physical calamities. Where discrimination exists, HIV is more prevalent. </p><p class="MsoNormal">Last night I was privileged to hear the story of Jeanne White-Ginder at World AIDS Day Detroit. She reminded me of the early prejudice against children, and well, anyone with with disease. Ryan White was a hemophiliac, and became positive through treatment from that particular physical weakness. However, today we may not judge those who receive it "accidentally" or "through no fault of their own" (i.e., the law partner's quote from "Philadelphia"), but de facto judgment comes on anyone positive who does not receive treatment or compassion. As someone who works in the field of HIV treatment and prevention once said to me, "Consider all the famous people in this country, and the HIV rate. You can't tell me that Magic Johnson is the only famous person living with HIV." They don't come out for a reason. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">If we were to reflect on the people in Jesus’ life, the people he talked to, lived with, and empowered to minister are, statistically, more likely to be HIV positive: the woman at the well, the Gerasene demoniac, Mary Magdalene, any one of his transient, fisherman disciples. Today they would be the most at-risk groups, the people least likely to be part of the stability of modern economic and social circles. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Unfortunately we are not invincible. We are vulnerable. But in this case we are not vulnerable to a random disease that falls on us like a lottery number. Rather, we are vulnerable to our own weaknesses: a lack of self-confidence or worth, even if just for a few moments, depression from a world formed against us, health care out of reach, or a desire just to feel good about ourselves and doing whatever we need to make that happen. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">While some declare dead the moral souls of the infected, the rest of us will declare alive the moral responsibility of our collective faith. We rise and fall together. The more we love and act from the depths of our souls, the less of a chance this disease has to prosper. </p>Matthew Bodehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00157769622438442731noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3559831097247793071.post-84602140074130775692011-11-09T13:22:00.003-05:002011-11-09T14:04:10.642-05:00A Disciple Might Step In Front of a Truck<span class="Apple-style-span" >My mother always told me to look both ways before crossing the street. Hopefully somebody taught you the same. Because of that it was counter-intuitive to step out into the Ambassador Bridge's main truck depot on Thursday, October 27th with 150 fellow activists </span><a href="http://www.windsorstar.com/news/Detroit%20protesters%20block%20trucks%20bridge/5618301/story.html">http://www.windsorstar.com/news/Detroit%20protesters%20block%20trucks%20bridge/5618301/story.html</a> <span class="Apple-style-span" >. We stepped in front of trucks (betting they would stop!) to put ourselves between them and the city streets of our neighborhood. The drivers, who are not to blame for the problem, were kind enough not to run us over.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Why put ourselves in front of trucks? And more importantly, why do so as a Christian? When the economic system of the community was oppressing the people and offending God, Jesus overturned the tables in the temple (Matthew 21). In other words, he interrupted, even temporarily obstructed the entire economic system of the temple. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >The truck access to the city streets of Detroit is not only illegal, but immoral. Despite years of legal rulings, the company has refused to comply, sending trucks on local streets instead of to the freeways, where they belong. As a result, we have pollution, crowding and wholly unsafe conditions in our community. The bridge company does not take actions that reflect a care for the people who live and work in the area.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >The activists on October 27th interrupted international trade for forty minutes on a busy workday afternoon. In an act of civil disobedience, the first thought was not about what was legal, but what was just. The legal system and the company were betraying the community. Therefore it was imperative that we demonstrate our own power. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >We align ourselves with a long history of those acting in civil disobedience because of their faith, values and care for their people. The civil rights movement in the American South may be the most obvious example, but we can also think of the man standing in front of the tank in Tiananmen Square, and the recent round-the-clock protests in Cairo. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" ><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" >Faith leads us, and it leads us more than the safety of our finances, or the need for a clean arrest record. Civil disobedience is risky, but so is following Jesus. </span></div>Matthew Bodehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00157769622438442731noreply@blogger.com0