Traveling in Place

Character Matters

“I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.”

These are among the most memorable words of Martin Luther King’s “I Have a Dream” speech from the Lincoln Memorial in 1963. Of course, he was talking entirely about race, and specifically about discrimination against Americans of African descent, and his words are no less important today than they were then.

But it is troubling and ironic that at this moment in our history, “the content of one’s character” is no longer considered the ideal measure of any person. I used to believe that conservative Christians placed too muchemphasis on the “character” of elected officials and not enough on actual policy positions. They came across as prudish, overly concerned with sexuality and private morality, and more interested in protecting the pre-born than in the quality of life between birth and death. Never would I have imagined that just one generation later, these same conservative Christians would decide that “character” in elected leaders counts for little or nothing.

When President Bill Clinton was revealed as having engaged in a consensual affair with a White House Intern, Faith and Freedom President Ralph Reed said, “We care about the conduct of our leaders and we will not rest until we have leaders of good moral character.”

The very same Ralph Reed, however, advised conservative Christians in 2016 not to pay much attention to the incontrovertible evidence of candidate Donald Trump’s bad behavior toward women. The infamous “Access Hollywood” tape, he said, “should rank low on their hierarchy of concerns.” Questioned about revelations of an extra-marital affair with a porn star, Family Research Council President Tony Perkins said he was giving Trump a “mulligan...a do-ever.”

Weeping and Rejoicing

“Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.” (Romans 12:15)

I’ve been reflecting over the past week about how, in the life of the church, we learn to weep and rejoice at the same time. It is nearly always the case that some part of our body is experiencing great sadness while another part is filled with joy. We do not get to choose which of these we will focus on. Paul’s admonition does not contain the word “or.” We simultaneously rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep.

This is one of the precious realities of being a community of faith, and it was put in sharp relief for me recently when we learned of the death of a beloved church member at the same time we anticipated the confirmation of three of our teens on Pentecost Sunday.

Many of us were heartbroken over a great loss, and we wept as we prepared for her funeral. But we did not let our grief diminish the joy we felt for three young men making their professions of faith. On Pentecost, worship was festive, celebrative, and joyous, even though many of us were feeling the sting of loss. And then, two days later, we gathered again for a service filled with tears, but many of us were still remarking about the blessing of Sunday’s worship, as well as noting how good it was to gather in faith, giving thanks to God for someone who has been a great blessing to so many. Functioning as the body of Christ, we rejoiced and wept all at once. It’s what we do.

What is true for our congregation is true for the world. Tragedy somewhere breaks hearts every day. But blessings continue to overflow. As God’s people, we lament all that is wrong and, rather than shield ourselves from the world’s sorrows with saccharine piety, we weep. But our tears do not diminish the joy that is always with us, and that causes us to note all the signs of God’s amazing grace. Because we are able to weep andrejoice, we bear witness to the compassionate presence of God at work in all circumstances. We are hope. We are love. 

©2018 by J. Mark Lawson

Couldn't Look Away

I cannot count the number of times I’ve heard this confession, or something very similar, in the last few months.

I have to check in with (insert favorite cable news channel here) every day, because so much is happening that I’m afraid I’m going to miss something. When I start watching, I can’t stop. Even though I know I’m just listening to the same things over and over again, I keep hoping I’m going to hear something that will help me feel better about what’s going on. But it never gets better, and I keep watching.

I completely understand. “Advocacy journalism,” which has both helped to create and benefited from a highly polarized political environment, has become a powerfully addictive consumer product. Millions of Americans spend hours in front of the television getting their fix. The “news” typically amounts to one or two significant stories that you can digest in a few minutes. But advocacy journalism has managed to create the false impression that news is breaking all the time, and if you turn away, you’ll miss it. In reality, what is treated as news is what somebody said aboutthe news. The news is the news, dissected, re-packaged, and repeated by different talking heads. This phenomenon used to be limited to the right side of the political spectrum, first mastered by the Fox News Network. Now, it’s an industry that covers every partisan and ideological perspective.

I’m hearing confessions like the one above more frequently now, because more and more people are realizing that, in their effort to better understand what’s happening, they have fallen into an addiction. They are beginning to look critically at their own TV viewing habits, trying to discern the difference between staying informed and drowning in partisan claptrap.

I was reminded of this media addiction – this inability to “look away” – when I was outside yesterday. Our stubborn, lingering winter has finally given way to a gorgeous Spring, and on sunny warm days, lots of us have been getting outside – working in our yards, walking, biking, or just sitting on the deck with a good book.