The Abuse of the Church

I wrote the following poem a short time ago when I reflected on the relationship between individual members of the Body of Christ (i.e., the Church) who had been or continue to be ostracized and abused by other members who claim to represent the Church as a whole. For anyone who has witnessed spousal abuse (physical, verbal, etc.), as I did growing up, this poem may paint a vivid image of abuses we'd rather forget; for that I empathize and apologize. Undoubtedly, those experiences inform the writing of this poem.

The title--"The Abuse of the Church"--came later, but its ambiguity has helped me to reflect more deeply on this relationship, which at times seems dysfunctional to continue. That is, I initially gave it this title, thinking of the Church's abuse of other people, but then later considered that if the object of abuse was a member of the Church, someone inseparable from the Body of Christ, then the title not only spoke of the Church's role as culprit, but as victim. What appears to be abuse of "others" actually turns out to be self-abuse. And that is the great tragedy.

The Abuse of the Church

You hit me again
for the last time
I can't stand
with you anymore
I had hoped
the last time
was the last time
But again you hit me
I tried to convince myself
with the memories of photographs
and past acts of love
that the storm of you would pass
But again you hit me
I am bruised
where bruises do not reach
where moth and rust do not corrupt
you hated when you should have loved
spoke when you should have listened
choked when you should have hugged
I hope now
that God will grant our divorce
even as I contemplate
how I might still stay
daring you
to hit me again
until we are tired
and agree
that we'll all understand it better
in the sweet by and by

Words of Welcome

Words of welcome I composed for Sunday, August 30, 2009 at First Baptist Church of Dayton:

Slow down! Listen. It will do us no good to hurry here. Here, the first is last and the last is first. Here, the greatest must become like the least of these. Here, there is neither male nor female, rich or poor, black or white, young or old, straight or gay; for we are all one in Christ Jesus. All our striving to be the fastest, the first, the greatest, or the strongest will only distract us from the voice of the One who calls us and draws us near. So settle down. Center down. And be here.

The Flower Salesman

My Lord,
you are that man
who stands
on the off-ramp,
selling flowers
in the rain.
(Where do you get them?)
Like a child
I pray
to be rich
enough
to buy all your flowers,
to get you
out of the rain,
off the off-ramp.

But then what?

Then let my fantasy
become fidelity
and a promise
to weather storms
with you,
my friend.
You are that man
who stands
on the off-ramp,
selling flowers
in the rain.

"Two men went up to the temple to pray..."

This was a reflection I wrote earlier this year based on Luke 18:9-14 that I thought was worth sharing...

I visited a church in Key West, Florida one Sunday morning not long ago. It was the kind of church that practiced high liturgical drama, complete with incents, bells, robes, kneelers, and large traveling crosses. And we did everything according to plan, kneeling, praying, singing, listening and giving, as directed. There’s a danger to all of this, however. Although I believe it is good and right to worship together every Sunday and do such things, we can fool ourselves into thinking that we are better than those who do not. The danger of this thinking is that we can begin to believe, however subtly, that we do not need God as much as those people do.

During a lengthy, straying sermon listing orthodox beliefs, the rector made a passing reference to “the whores of Duvall Street.” I was shocked, and wondered if anyone else had a problem with the phrase. Duvall Street is the busiest business district in all of Key West, and there may be people and businesses that have un-Godly, un-Christian practices that border, if not cross over into, whoredom. But this church on Duvall Street (and every church) is certainly called to do more than just state the obvious, and exalt itself above its neighbors, lest the gospel remain hidden. Genuine piety demands that we humble ourselves before God and love our neighbors, who are in need of God’s mercy as much as we are. This Lent, as we reflect on all that Christ did and does, may our piety draw us closer to God and our neighbors, and not farther away.

To Be Continued...

“In the beginning…” John 1:1

“When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week…” John 20:19

The resurrection changed our view of creation. It was no longer a past event. In light of Jesus’ resurrection, the early church fathers affirmed that the first day of the week—Sunday—was also the eighth day. In Christ we are a “new creation” (2 Corinthians 5:17). In Christ, the opening words of the Book of Genesis are repeated and echoed throughout eternity: “In the beginning…” “In the beginning…” Just when the disciples feared the worst, that the story, the good news of Jesus Christ had come to a tragic end, it starts anew. At the end of every episode in this Christian life appear the words:

To Be Continued…