A Mosque at the World Trade Center

Psalm 145:8-9
The LORD is gracious and merciful, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love
The Lord is good to all, and his compassion is over all that he has made.

Wow, what a fire storm over a building and community center at Ground Zero; the storm rages all the way to the White House and poses a difficult lesson and decision. I understand the hurt, agony, pain and anger of those opposed. I appreciate that some would want the ground at the spot to remain hollowed and the "enemy" kept away.

When an adversary is denied, slighted, pursued, marginalized or persecuted; or even if they FEEL persecuted then they are emboldened. Hard as it is; we must graciously allow those with whom we disagree to make their decisions even if those decisions lack wisdom and common sense. When we allow ourselves to be consumed with hate and anger then we diminish ourselves to the level of those that hijacked and flew planes into the towers and inflicted grievous pain and suffering on so many. Hard as it is we must find a way to dig deep and forgive or else we become consumed.

One of the most difficult lessons to learn and abide is God's unfailing love for us; all of US, even those of us who may not even know Him. When the hater hates he becomes hate and ultimately hates himself. Look to any number of despots throughout history. Look at what they became as they inflicted abuse on others; examine the life of Stalin; how warped he was, how fundamentally damaged her was, how in the end when he fell sick his brokenness killed him, he had a stroke and his minions were afraid to open his bedroom door. Look at those in South Africa during apartheid and what they became. Look at Idi Amin and where his life took him. Sadly, look at those folk who angrily proclaim the Gospel and yet rant about a vengeful angry God; look at how hard their hearts are, how broken they are, how dare I say it...how sad they are. Is this what God wants for us?

The Psalm says slow to anger, steadfast in love; Genesis says we are made in God's image, Christ was sent as our model, therefore we are called to be steadfast in love. Sometimes that steadfastness requires that we sacrifice and indeed make the ultimate sacrifice, better we martyr ourselves than make a martyr of an enemy; you see a martyr never dies and is impossible to defeat, but an enemy or adversary who is loved is defeated by that very love.

You are the salt of the Earth and the light of the world

Matthew 5:13-16
Salt and Light
"You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled by men.
"You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven.

I just love the beatitudes and the lessons in them. Today I went to a new church for me and the lesson was taught on these verses and it was so inspiring and relevant and timely. The pastor essentially said that followers of Christ live in bubbles. It is inside those bubbles that we cast judgment on the folk of the world who are not saved or church goers. The pastor also pointed out that empirically the only difference between church going believers and those not; is that goers own more Bibles. Goers are just as likely to lie, cheat, steal, harm and act in deceitful ways. Goers do tend to give more to faith based charity too but that’s about it.

Interestingly enough when we believers go into the world we tend to try awkward attempts at getting the world into our churches. We tend not to befriend first but ask and invite first which tends to put the none church attendee off. In fact often it makes them run away very quickly. So in very broad terms I began to think about the church that I’m a member of and the difficulties there now.

The church where I am a member is in crisis. Attendance is falling, people come but they don’t stay. I’m a prime example. There are individuals who are members of my church who I love and cherish but the larger church didn’t invite me in or engage me. They asked my spiritual inventory and then ignored it. They tried to plug me into areas where I have no passion, like hospitality and the board of trustees; where I still sit; but not for long. My passions revolve around singing, acting, visual arts, writing, teaching and preaching. All of those passions were ignored and dismissed. It was made very clear that my round peg wasn’t going to be put into my round hole and so I lost interest.

So, roughly a year after becoming a member of my church, I’m looking for a new one. A church closer to home, one where my round peg will be placed in my round hole and my faith passions can be explored. I know soon enough that I’m going to write a letter of resignation to my church. I think in it I will have to be open, honest and forthright with them and tell them exactly why I no longer feel lead to attend or be a member of their congregation. I approach this action with trepidation and when examining the action feel my light flicker. My church was very much a part of my recovery from years of self destructive behavior.

I love the members and the pastor of the church where I’m a member. They helped me discover that I am worthy and loved and most importantly I am capable of chaste love. They helped me discover that the living God not only lives in me but in all people and that all people are worthy of redemption and grace There I discovered that in order to get new folks into church you have to be their friend first, they have to see the light in you and taste the salt. The salt is Christ and living a life lead by his example, service and sacrifice. To pounce on guests the minute that they come through the door doesn’t work. Conversely it is also a failing to invite folks into membership, give them a spiritual inventory and then ignore it.

My prayer is that my church finds its way. I do think it will be a most difficult and arduous path for them. That church is so caught up in declining attendance and membership that they seem panicked. It’s sad really, the pastor is a most gifted preacher but the messages that she deliver seem to get skewed by frantic attempts to raise money and encourage people into the church.

My church's light does seem to be hidden beneath baskets or bowls, so many there tend to guard their turf with an uncommon zeal. I knew early on that I was aware that something was amiss; I’d sit in my pew and feel completely disconnected from the service and members. I fought for a while but now I’m certain that I’ve moved on. I moved on to rediscover my salt and my light hoping that it won’t flicker out, I trust that God will lead me to the right place and all will be well.

One of my pathways to God

Pathways to God, reflections on a healing service

For three weeks or so I’d wrestled with the fact that as an infant my parents had me Christened instead of waiting for me to reach the age of reason, when I could choose Baptism. By default my younger brother had been given the choice because my parents left “the church” before he could be Christened. That bothered him so much so that as a twenty year old man he chose Jesus Christ and was baptized. Sunday September 30, 2007 my pastor says, “We’ll wait here, until the person here in this place, comes forward to renew their Baptism or is baptized. I know he’s here. I’ll wait all night if I have to. We’ll wait until the sanctuary is empty if that’s what it takes!”

I see it clearly, God is working in this service, the cause of some of my fears and anxiety have just been laid out in front of everyone, and those words hang heavily in the air. The entire weekend has been filled with emotion for me and now this. The protesters at pride were filled with venom and meeting them with love is a new experience for me. The morning service that I almost didn’t go to because I felt afraid; I found myself weeping with joy as the praise team sang. Lunch was a warm and rewarding event with newly found and trusted friends and helping to clean up and bring order to God’s house soothes me. The afternoon passes too quickly.

Then, here I find myself, in my new church hearing these words from a Pastor whom I’ve grown to admire and love. Yet, a failing on my part, not fully trusting yet, my baggage from what’s been programmed into my head, I was christened not Baptized. It isn’t the same, I know it. I know that I should have told her. Why haven’t I? Pastor has given us permission to tell her anything. Is it that once I do, then I’m all in, fully engaged, the focus of my life changed to where it should be. Why is it after all of this time it is so hard to just say yes, three letters, three easy little letters, an affirmation to God?

Still through my Pastor, God is telling me exactly what I need to do. Yet, I sit. The praise team sings. I sit still, debating, wrestling, scared; frantic on the inside but not moving forward. I hope it will pass if I stay still. Even with the vibrating in my head from the sermon, the story of the Prodigal son and his journey home. Could it be made any more crystal clear to me? All I have to do is get up and move but I won’t, I’m paralyzed by my fear and lack of trust and the recording playing in my head. I’m praying too, hoping and praying that someone else will get up and move to the front of the church and that will let me off the hook. I ask God for one more sign. Me, little small man hasn’t heard enough, seen enough of God working in my life; he still needs one more sign, one more demonstration of love and acceptance.

Then I hear it. Crystal playing the piano starts the first few notes of “This is the air I breathe.” The song that I mentioned to her at lunch, eight hours earlier, I told her, “I love that song.” I was delighted that she sang it for us, truly a gift, a message from God through Crystal. Silently I’d said to myself if she plays it again I’ll get up. I’ll move forward, I’ll say yes and let God change my life. Now she’s playing it. Now I have to let something be done for me.

I loved hearing her sing that song it when she first took over on piano at evening service and communion was being offered, and here this Sunday she’s sung it once and is about to sing it again. I know that God is telling me to move and I do, I can’t deny Him any longer. Suddenly up and moving it’s easy; and into trusted arms I go. I go into the arms of my Pastor and Kayla and I step with them at my sides, finally, into the arms and warm, tender embrace of my God. The God who loves me and who knew on this Sunday, at this time, at this moment, I would choose to say yes again but as a man.

My glasses come off, tears are falling, not sad but joyous tears, tears of relief, my pain, my anguish, my mistrust are all washed away with three handfuls of water and very powerful words of affirmation. Saying those words out loud as a man is wondrously empowering, like a weight lifted off my shoulders and an easing of my mind.

It’s all right now. I’m not a ten year old boy holding my well intentioned and loving Nana’s hand as I say to her Preacher that I accept Jesus as my Lord and Savior. The ten year old boy saying those words didn’t know what they meant. He didn’t understand the depth of the gift, the sacrifice that was made for him at Calvary. He didn’t comprehend the fact that if he and Jesus were the only two to walk the face of the Earth, that his God would have sent Jesus to die for his sins on the cross at Calvary so that he could be reconciled with God. He didn’t understand that more than anything God wants his people, all people to be at peace with themselves, with each other and with God, their father. The ten year old boy is gone and the forty three year old man, finally trusting says yes. He says yes to God, understanding the gift given to him so long ago, so far away by an eternal and ever present God. It is a gift of love, sacrifice, redemption and salvation.

The water just like the blood, and saying yes have washed away the painful years of running, denial and anger. He’d directed the anger at the world, those he “loved,” at himself and at God. Yet through all of it God waited, a silent witness, steadfastly standing in the corners of his mind, waiting for him to come home and say yes. God waited for this man to have the courage to say a simple three letter word, the word yes.

This forty three year old man knows on this healing Sunday, September 30, 2007, that his life is changed. His life changed for the best because it has been passed with friends at his side and behind him into the hands of a loving, generous, forgiving and eternal God. It isn’t over, but at the pause he’s tired, all of that running and anger have made him tired and the final relief of saying yes is like a warm soup made with loving hands heating up his soul.

Just a glimpse at part of my story
Michael Sullivan, REALTOR/Broker/SRES/E-Pro and
Believer