Hebrews 12:1-2

My church denomination, the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), isn't anywhere near the top of the list of liturgical or "high" churches in our worship or traditions, although some congregations have tended more in that direction over time.

Consequently, I would guess most Disciples congregations won't be doing much to recognize All Saints Day, which is coming up this Sunday. I don't remember ever hearing about it in church as I grew up. In fact, I would have to "Google" All Saints Day in order to come up with a meaningful explanation of its origins and purpose, as well as its connection to, of all things, Halloween.

I do know, however, that it is a time to remember those who have gone before us in the church, comprising the "great cloud of witnesses" of the faith. (That phrase is more familiar, as it is a biblical image -- "Bible names for Bible things" was a slogan on the American frontier among those who lived into the movement that became our church.)

This Sunday, our congregation will honor the memories of church members who died during the past year. Folks always seem to be moved by our ritual.

For me personally, I will remember a "saint" who died just last month. Her name was Barbara Nnoka, and she was an influential person in my life, dating back to my days working among the Religious Society of Friends.

You can read here a tribute to Barbara that was published in the Washington Post at the time of her passing.

I was privileged to have a friendship with Barbara lasting some twenty years. She showed up from the Friends Meeting of Washington to be a member of the Board of Directors at William Penn House during my tenure as Executive Director, and we remained in contact after the end of her term on the board and after my departure as the head of the organization. I last spoke with her in May of this year, at the time of her birthday.

Barbara always displayed wisdom and insight in the leadership she provided among Friends and others. In my mind, she was a first-rate example of a person whose life was guided by her spirituality. In her case, it was Quaker spirituality, and I learned more about that from Barbara than from anyone else. Mostly, it came from her example of caring, nurture, and support.

It was a blessing to me to know her, and I always will be inspired by her life, influence, and memory.

Hedging Our Bets

Further reflection on the “Rich Young Ruler” story that was highlighted by the Revised Common Lectionary last Sunday: It seems the person who approached Jesus in the story wanted to have it both ways. He was a “good” person. He followed the commandments regarding relationships with other people. He respected Jesus. And he was wealthy.

When Jesus said, “Sell all your possessions, give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then, come, follow me,” the man declined. He wanted eternal life and he wanted the life to which he already was accustomed. Jesus challenged him to choose between the two lives.

Living into the eternal life offered by Jesus means being transformed by him, not simply adding him to the portfolio of what makes one happy.

This all came to mind when I read the following item from Century Marks in the Christian Century magazine, via the September/October issue of Humanist:

While working in Iraq, journalist and avowed atheist Spencer Case felt an impulse to pray on two separate occasions. One time is easily explainable, he claims—it was when his camp was under attack by enemy mortars. The other occasion was when he slept under the stars in a desolate part of western Iraq and was struck by the contrast between the human-made chaos in that country and the beauty and order in the cosmos. It prompted him to pray this prayer: "Dear God, I have come to the conclusion you probably don't exist, but I've also come to the conclusion that any one view I hold may turn out to be mistaken, however unlikely the odds seem. So if you are there, if I am wrong, you know where to find me."

I told my congregation on Sunday about someone I once knew who unabashedly declared that she and God had an “arrangement:” everything would be good between them as long as she had a roof over her head and two meals a day. I never quite understood what would happen if God failed to live up to the arrangement. I also have the suspicion that God is highly amused by her presumption. How would she lower the boom on The Almighty Creator of Heaven and Earth?

We want God “on our side.” We want the blessing and benefit of God’s presence in our lives. Yet, we fill ourselves with so many things, make so many choices, and establish numerous priorities that betray the truth that arm’s length really is close enough, and that we set the terms for the relationship.

Good Golly, Miss Molly (or, Garbage In/Garbage Out)

I began to think we were in for a rough ride as I sat in the theater watching the previews for upcoming movies. Virtually every one shouted violence, destruction, death, and mayhem.

One was about the end of time, predicted to occur in the year 2012. I wondered where the main characters of the film thought they were going in the small plane they maneuvered amid collapsing skyscrapers, cracking and crumbling bridges, and explosions. If the culmination of the human story is unfolding all around you, what’s the point in running?

I guess I’ll never know. The other previews also made it appear as if there were no hope for the people involved, and that pain, suffering, and horror were all they had ahead of them.

It’s easier to tear down than it is to build up – even in storytelling.

Then, the feature presentation finally arrived, bringing little, if any relief. I had made the mistake of going to see the film Zombieland.

I admit to ignorance regarding all things Zombie, but the film supposedly was a comedy. I figured I could put up with a little visual and auditory disgust if there were something to laugh about mixed in. Things didn’t work out so well in that regard.

Zombies, I have heard, are from the realm of the “un-dead.” How they achieve that status, I’m not sure. It appeared in the movie that some kind of virus caused just about everyone in North America to become Zombies. So, the struggle for survival was afoot for the four (plus a surprise, fifth) characters. And, of course, they couldn’t exactly trust one another, either.

Fortunately for them, they were able to get their hands on a seemingly endless supply of firearms and ammunition. Suffice it to say that the “un-dead” lost their “un” in disproportionate numbers.

Once again, the solution to conflict, fear, and threats to survival is to kill, kill, kill. Guns bring power! Guns insure life! (Well, at least for the “good” guys.)

The Christian Century has a column written by a Baptist pastor in Texas who has at least one person in his congregation that hasn’t yet bought into that mentality. Her name is Molly, and she was part of a youth group that asked the church to post a sign proclaiming, “War Is Not The Answer” at the outset of the Gulf War. The neighbors, and likely some of the church members, didn’t take too kindly to this declaration, one of whom set out a row of American flags along the border between his and the church’s property.

More recently, Molly was at it again. She attended a football pep rally at her high school held prior to a game against a rival school. As Molly’s pastor, Kyle Childress, described the scene, “the cheerleaders started their weekly skit about how the Dragons were going to defeat their opponent that night. Several kids came in dressed in the school colors of the opposing team. Our cheerleaders went behind each of the opposition kids, tied that kid's hands behind her back and had her kneel down on the floor. Then our cheerleaders took out toy pistols and acted out walking behind the kids and executing them. When the cheerleaders dragged the mock-executed kids to a pile and threw money up into the air, the crowd of students, teachers and parents hollered and screamed and clapped their approval.”

So, the nice kids from this school in Texas employed TWO symbols of power: guns and money. Where the money fit in, I’m not sure, but I’m glad at least they didn’t hold their Bibles while there were emoting and salivating.

Molly was offended by the skit. She and her mother paid a visit to the school principal who shooed them away. After all, no one else complained. Molly discovered that the school handbook had prohibitions against guns – real or pretend – on school property. She wrote an article for the school paper, but it was cut from publication by the principal, because it criticized the judgment and actions of the adults involved.

The local newspaper heard about it and ran a front page story. National media picked up the story and flooded Molly with interview requests. The school administration finally owned up to the error of its ways and assured the outside world it never would hear such things about their school ever again.

Molly just couldn’t reconcile what she saw around her with her understanding of her faith and what she learned from scripture. She was influenced by input from her community of faith.

Meanwhile, preachers in Detroit are concealing weapons under their robes on Sunday morning; a pastor in Kentucky who encouraged his flock to bring their guns to church for a special celebration earlier this year resigned his position so he could devote himself to gun issues; James Dobson, from Focus on the Family, and his ilk are trying to rouse the rabble against hate crimes legislation; films, television shows, video games, and popular music continue to desensitize yet another generation of young people to violence and killing, planting the thought that these are the answers to challenges, problems, and conflict.