Day 16

Readings and Thoughts for Monday, February 18, 2008

Acts 9:1-19 The Conversion of Saul

So Saul (who will soon be called Paul) is on the road to Damascus. Classical pictures of the scene always show him falling off a horse (very dramatic) though Luke tells us nothing of that. He is breathing “threats and murder” (nice guy, huh?) and plans to arrest both men and women who follow Jesus. It isn’t good enough to persecute “the Way” in Jerusalem, he’s going to spread the torment to Damascus as well. Notice that Saul is the one taking the initiative, seeking the letters of introduction and warrants for arrest. The Jerusalem temple leadership (“the Jews”) are not the instigators of the pogrom. Saul is on a very personal vendetta. His people are being corrupted and he is going to “purify” them.

Anytime you hear any person, any politician or religious leader, describing the need to cleanse, clean out, or purify a community you can be virtually assured that evil is at work. These are the thoughts of Saul, the persecutor. These were the thoughts of Hitler against Jews, Gays, Gypsies, the mentally and physically disabled. These were the thoughts of community leaders in Yugoslavia and Rwanda as the genocide began amidst civil war. This was Saddam Hussein’s plan for the Kurds. The scary thing is, we hear this kind of language all the time – usually more pretty, more subtle than this, but just as dangerous. “First we have to get all the illegal aliens out of this country, and then….”

And we hear this kind of “purifying” talk in the church. Once it was African Americans who were unwelcome at the altar and in our pulpits. Historically Black Methodist Episcopal churches were segregated into a separate “Central Jurisdiction” in the United Methodist Church until 1968. “United” Methodists have merged with many related groups, but have never seriously considered merging with the Christian Methodist Episcopal Church, the African Methodist Episcopal Church, or the African Methodist Episcopal Zion Church – the three historically African American denominations of the Methodist movement. Now Fred Phelps and his “God hates fags” campaign is played out more prettily in “friendly” churches every day.

Purity is never the watchword of the church. Inclusivity is. Find me a time when Jesus shut someone out because they were the wrong “type” – he tried just once with a Syrophoenician woman (a bad day?); she argued, he agreed with her and healed her daughter (Mark 7:24-30). In Acts we are seeing a series of conversions in which the church becomes progressively broader and more inclusive. The first converts are Jerusalem Jews, then on to neighboring Samaria, then we meet an African man who represents “the ends of the earth,” and now Saul, the church’s greatest enemy is converted, and soon Cornelius, a gentile and a Roman soldier (representing the persecuting empire).

At a lecture I saw last year, Edward Albee described his play The Goat, or, Who is Sylvia? as an exploration of tolerance (read at your own risk). By portraying a man in love with a goat, Albee pushes way past what most of us could accept or tolerate and he uses that framework to get us to consider other aspects of who or what we can or cannot accept, and why. In contrast, Ryan Dobson (son of Jim Dobson) has published a book titled Be Intolerant on the premise that the very nature of faithfulness to Christ is intolerance to sin. (I do not recommend this book.) Inclusivity and tolerance can be difficult issues for Christians. We are called to stand apart from the rest of the world in our identity and values (in terms of devotion to Christ and avoidance of sin), and at the same time we are called to include and show grace to everyone.

One of the places I have to decide whom to include and whom to exclude is on those occasions when people come to the chruch looking for financial assistance. It is part of my ministry to make an evaluation of the individual’s situation, need, and resources. I am the one who decides whether this person leaves with a gas voucher, a check for utilities, or whatever else has been asked for. I’ve been doing this for many years and I’ve gotten more comfortable with the task as I’ve gained experience. Still, sometimes you just don’t know. Sometimes a story seems to check out, but it just doesn’t feel right. Other times the details don’t make sense, but for some unclear reason you still want to provide the help. I made up my mind quite a while ago that whenever I am in an unclear situation, I am going to err on the side of providing help, knowing that I might be getting taken. Sometimes I just ask myself "How much am I willing to get taken for today?" Once in a while you find out later that you were taken advantage of, and then you learn from that experience for next time. The deal is that I imagine myself after I die, at the gates of heaven, getting my once-over from St. Peter (or whoever it is). And I don’t think I’m going to be judged too badly for times that I was too giving. I doubt very much I'll get kicked out of heaven for excessive generosity, or even foolishness. But I hate to think of the faces I might see there of people I could have and should have helped, but chose not to. I hate the thought of trying to explain my actions when I did nothing to help or comfort. (Okay, it’s an image; I do actually believe we are saved by grace – but you get my point.)

I feel the same way about welcoming people into Christian fellowship and accepting them as they are. If ever I am faced with a lack of clarity between whom I should include and what I can tolerate, I err on the side of inclusivity. I realize that I do have my own limits on tolerance; there are things I can never accept, but I don't come up against that limit very often in the church. Maybe some day the things that I know I cannot tolerate will be in the forefront of social discussion, and it will be more difficult for me. Still, my position is: when in doubt, welcome. Jesus sat at the table with all kinds of people who offended the religious leaders of his day. How upset can he get if I do the same thing?

When have you met someone in church that made you uncomfortable? Why? What did you do or say about it?