Every week, I write what is on my heart and mind. And every Sunday morning, I speak what is on my heart and mind. It is not easy.
Not everybody wants to read it. Some unsubscribe, as six did one week last month when I wrote about Charlie Kirk. “I unsubscribed because I think it is irresponsible to even suggest that Charlie Kirk is in heaven,” one long time reader wrote in response to my column “Charlie Kirk Goes to Heaven.” In that column (which you can read at themeetinghouse.net), I pictured Charlie in heaven learning from all the people he denigrated in his “debates” (blacks, transgendered, and little girls killed by guns “so the rest of us can enjoy our God-given rights”).
Not everybody wants to hear it, as I discovered a year ago in the little “progressive” church for which I was pastor and preacher. My warnings about the un-named presidential candidate pushed a few people the wrong way and they boycotted public worship. The Council confronted me, I resigned, and now we are on the verge of martial law.
“We hear it every day,” a woman said to me last Sunday. I was in my garage-turned-studio preparing for Sunday in the House. The garage door was open when she and a friend happened by on a morning walk, then stepped in to talk. “I broadcast every Sunday,” I explained, “about life, politics, and Jesus.” Do you give you opinions or do you teach what the Bible says, about Jesus and the end of the world? I understood much about her worldview by hearing that question. “I do address the political situation,” I confessed; and that is when she said it: “We hear it every day.”
I wrestle with this. Every day. Is there too much politics and not enough Jesus? The sign behind me proclaims my conviction: LESS TRUMP, MORE JESUS. Which is why I build my broadcast around the life and ministry of Jesus. But even Jesus was boxed in by political realities: the effort to kill him as a child, the arrest and beheading of John the prophet, an ever-present army of occupation, his arrest and crucifixion by the authorities, and even his message of a kingdom, a different kingdom with a different allegiance and a different ethic.
Jesus was not afraid of the political realities of his day, even when it meant the end of his ministry. He had confidence in God. “You killed Jesus,” one of his disciples said later, explaining things, “but God raised him from the dead.”
Yesterday, I received this note from a reader and donor: “Your work and your words are deeply appreciated. So many times, your intelligently written comments and reactions to our current situations echo and mirror my own. A kindred spirit gives light and hope in these dark days.” And a few days ago, a long-time reader, listener, and donor was even stronger: “Stay strong and steady and continue to speak your mind. You are one of only a few who I know in my heart are speaking the truth from your heart and mind.”
Then this happened. David Black’s picture appeared everywhere, dodging the pepper spray from a masked ICE agent (photo above). David is the pastor of the First Presbyterian Church of Chicago. More than that, he is an alumnus of the Academy of Preachers, an organization I launched and led for a decade. I have vivid memories of our first conversation. In January of 2014, he came to Indianapolis to preach in the National Festival of Young Preachers, thus his designation, AoP’14.
I write this column to honor David and all who are part of the Resistance. We are pushing back, in the name of Jesus, against all the cruelty and corruption centered in the White House. It is the most serious challenge to the health and wellbeing of our country since the Great Depression almost a century ago.
On Saturday, October 18, I will take my sign and join the millions around the country protesting, among other things, the deployment of U. S. soldiers to push back against what the first amendment calls “the right of the people peaceably to assemble and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.”
I hope you will find a place near you to do the same; or, if need be, drive an hour or two to plant your feet and proclaim your conviction. NO KINGS DAY, it is called. October 18.
Every week, I write what is on my heart and mind. And every Sunday morning, I speak what is on my heart and mind. It is not easy.
Not everybody wants to read it. Some unsubscribe, as six did one week last month when I wrote about Charlie Kirk. “I unsubscribed because I think it is irresponsible to even suggest that Charlie Kirk is in heaven,” one long time reader wrote in response to my column “Charlie Kirk Goes to Heaven.” In that column (which you can read at themeetinghouse.net), I pictured Charlie in heaven learning from all the people he denigrated in his “debates” (blacks, transgendered, and little girls killed by guns “so the rest of us can enjoy our God-given rights”).
Not everybody wants to hear it, as I discovered a year ago in the little “progressive” church for which I was pastor and preacher. My warnings about the un-named presidential candidate pushed a few people the wrong way and they boycotted public worship. The Council confronted me, I resigned, and now we are on the verge of martial law.
“We hear it every day,” a woman said to me last Sunday. I was in my garage-turned-studio preparing for Sunday in the House. The garage door was open when she and a friend happened by on a morning walk, then stepped in to talk. “I broadcast every Sunday,” I explained, “about life, politics, and Jesus.” Do you give you opinions or do you teach what the Bible says, about Jesus and the end of the world? I understood much about her worldview by hearing that question. “I do address the political situation,” I confessed; and that is when she said it: “We hear it every day.”
I wrestle with this. Every day. Is there too much politics and not enough Jesus? The sign behind me proclaims my conviction: LESS TRUMP, MORE JESUS. Which is why I build my broadcast around the life and ministry of Jesus. But even Jesus was boxed in by political realities: the effort to kill him as a child, the arrest and beheading of John the prophet, an ever-present army of occupation, his arrest and crucifixion by the authorities, and even his message of a kingdom, a different kingdom with a different allegiance and a different ethic.
Jesus was not afraid of the political realities of his day, even when it meant the end of his ministry. He had confidence in God. “You killed Jesus,” one of his disciples said later, explaining things, “but God raised him from the dead.”
Yesterday, I received this note from a reader and donor: “Your work and your words are deeply appreciated. So many times, your intelligently written comments and reactions to our current situations echo and mirror my own. A kindred spirit gives light and hope in these dark days.” And a few days ago, a long-time reader, listener, and donor was even stronger: “Stay strong and steady and continue to speak your mind. You are one of only a few who I know in my heart are speaking the truth from your heart and mind.”
Then this happened. David Black’s picture appeared everywhere, dodging the pepper spray from a masked ICE agent (photo above). David is the pastor of the First Presbyterian Church of Chicago. More than that, he is an alumnus of the Academy of Preachers, an organization I launched and led for a decade. I have vivid memories of our first conversation. In January of 2014, he came to Indianapolis to preach in the National Festival of Young Preachers, thus his designation, AoP’14.
I write this column to honor David and all who are part of the Resistance. We are pushing back, in the name of Jesus, against all the cruelty and corruption centered in the White House. It is the most serious challenge to the health and wellbeing of our country since the Great Depression almost a century ago.
On Saturday, October 18, I will take my sign and join the millions around the country protesting, among other things, the deployment of U. S. soldiers to push back against what the first amendment calls “the right of the people peaceably to assemble and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.”
I hope you will find a place near you to do the same; or, if need be, drive an hour or two to plant your feet and proclaim your conviction. NO KINGS DAY, it is called. October 18.
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