Christian Hypocrisy and Roy Moore

Hypocrisy.  There’s no other way to describe the decision of many Evangelical Christians to stand with Judge Roy Moore.

Moore has seen his campaign upended by accusations from seven women that he sexually harassed or assaulted them as teenagers.  Moore is the Republican candidate for an open Senate seat from Alabama.

Judge Moore made his political career insisting that the 10 Commandments be engraved in stone and placed in the Court House; that homosexuality is an abomination in the eyes of God; that same-sex marriage undermines the sanctity of traditional marriage; that abortion should be outlawed; that the Second Amendment has no limits.

It’s ironic that Moore who made his political bones on the basis of moral self-righteousness, is now accused by credible witness’ to sexual abuse of minors.  In his hometown it was an open secret  that Moore in his 30’s preyed upon teen girls.

Why then do so many Christian pastors and voters say that they are standing with Roy Moore?  The answer seems to rest with the growth of the Religious Right as a power broker in the Republican party.  https://www.memeorandum.com/171120/p8#a171120p8

For a growing number of conservative Christians the ends justify the means.  Their agenda includes:  Packing the Supreme Court with conservative justices; outlawing abortion rights; rolling back gay and trans-gender rights; limits to immigration; support for NRA.

Why these limited issues?  Why not advocacy for civil rights and social justice?

Consider the many societal  implications of Jesus’ teaching: “Whatever you do unto the most vulnerable of my sisters and brothers you do unto me.  When you clothe the naked and visit the prisoner, feed the hungry…it is as if you are doing it to me.” (Matthew 25: 31 – 46).

There is a lot of cherry picking going on within the Christian community. Choosing to focus on some issues to the exclusion of others.  Some choose to wrap their faith in the flag of nationalism and even nativism. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nativism_(politics)

It doesn’t have to be this way.

Imagine hearing the words of the Hebrew prophets and the teaching and witness of Jesus with fresh eyes and ears.  Imagine approaching the reading of Scripture with humility.  Humility in knowing that we each bring a cultural bias that effects what we hear and to see.  Imagine allowing the Spirit to open our hearts, minds and imaginations to what is possible.

In I Corinthians 13 the apostle Paul says, ‘now we see in a mirror dimly, but one day we will see (God) face to face’.  Our call is to approach our faith with humility.

I don’t know about you but I’m wary of those who say ‘behold sayeth the Lord’. Particularly those who condemn, exclude and divide.  Annie Lamott says it best:  ‘When God hates the same people you do then rest assured you’ve created God in your own image’.

The Christian faith teaches that we catch a ‘glimpse’ of what Paul speaks of when we see love, forgiveness, justice and compassion put into practice.  These are the voices we long to hear.  May it be so.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stories from the March: Tomorrow There’ll Be More of Us

The Women’s March https://www.womensmarch.com on the day following President Trump’s Inauguration was a grassroots movement that brought millions into the streets.  They marched in Washington D.C and in cities large and small across the nation (and around the world).  They marched with the message that ours is a nation of inclusion and that the moral health of our nation is measured by how we treat one another, particularly those who are most vulnerable. 

Each person who marched has their own story.  Below in two installments is a reflection by my friend and pastoral colleague, Julie Flowers.  I invite you to read and  get involved.

Installment 1: In Which We Arrive in Washington

 I looked at my suitcase, giving it one last check to make sure I had everything. Full raingear, ski pants, ski jacket, mittens, emergency rain ponchos, first aid kit, extra wool socks, portable phone charger, bandana, shirts with feminist messages on them – all there. Granola bars, water bottle, small bag to carry with me – also there. I looked by the door where things were piled up and ready to go. Large white foamcore board, markers, paints, and paintbrushes were all set. I was headed to the Women’s March on Washington, and I wanted to be prepared for anything.

The next morning, following our 12 hour drive traffic-filled (all marchers!) to Maryland, my friend Elisabeth and I woke to an unseasonably warm day (I didn’t need any of my emergency supplies!) and headed out. We climbed into the hotel’s metro shuttle, already filled with other women of all ages, and it took us to the station, where we hopped on a train headed into D.C. It was filled with women and men of all ages and from all over the country and of all races and with diverse stories – all headed to the March.

The train was crowded, but the atmosphere was warm and celebratory. People looked one another in the eye. They connected. They spoke with warmth. We were there, together, for a shared purpose. We were there to show the new administration that, together, we would stand up and fight for women’s rights, for LGBTQIA rights, for an end to racism and

photo-womens-march-2
Elisabeth and Julie

systemic oppression, for the environment, for our children, for our public schools, and for peace and justice for all people.

 

The metro stopped at Judiciary Square. Elisabeth and I got off, along with thousands of our closest friends. We could not do much more than get off, however – the metro platform outside the train was filled with those headed to the march. In both directions, along the platform and up the stairs toward street level, all we would see were other people, holding signs, linking arms, ready to stand up, ready to show the beautiful and diverse face of this nation to its new leader. We were ready to show the new administration what democracy looks like; ready to show the President that America’s diversity is her strength.

A cheer suddenly rolled along the crowd as we waited to ascend into the light of day. Like a rumble of thunder coming over a plain, it started somewhere in the distance of that metro station and it roared over us, growing steadily as more voices joined in. People clapped. And cheered. We were ready.

I looked ahead of me, and a sign carried by another woman caught my eye. “Tomorrow there’ll be more of us,” it read.


photo-womens-march-1Now, if you, like me, are a Hamilton fan http://www.hamiltonbroadway.com you will recognize that as a line from the song “The Story of Tonight.” I was struck by the poignant message – and by the promise – of that sign. It spoke of a movement, not just a moment (more Hamilton references!). It spoke of a commitment to stand up, to speak out, to fight for our planet and for its people, for our sisters and brothers, for our children, that would extend far beyond that one Saturday.

“Raise a glass to freedom,” Hamilton and his friends sing in that song. “Something they can never take away no matter what they tell you.” Those words echoed in my head as we climbed the stairs toward the street level, following the woman carrying the sign. I felt tears well in my eyes as I felt the power and poignancy of that moment – that moment when I, along with millions of others all around the nation, were taking to the streets to insist that freedom is, indeed, something that can never be taken away; to insist that we the people are stronger than fear, stronger than hate, stronger than division, stronger than executive orders designed to turn back the clock and strip us of our rights.

“Tomorrow there’ll be more of us,” I thought, as we stepped out, blinking, into the daylight.

Installment 2: In Which We March to follow.