How To Wink At A Muslim

Posted on June 12, 2013 by

Pay attention on this one, because there will be a short quiz at the end….

"How to wink at a ______" It really works with anything! Just insert the group you want to intimidate, alienate, and discriminate against....

“How to wink at a ______” It really works with anything! Just insert the group you want to intimidate, alienate, and discriminate against….

A short time ago, a County Commissioner right here in middle Tennessee posted a picture on his Facebook page that said, “How to wink at a Muslim” over a picture of a man looking down the sight of a shotgun. Now really, this sort of ignorance and idiocy is not that surprising to me. It should be, but it’s not–There are always going to be scared and spiteful and stupid people who do scared and spiteful and stupid things…. What IS surprising is what happened at a public meeting in Manchester, TN (of Bonnaroo fame, about 70 miles from Nashville) that was being held to address discrimination against Muslims in the area, as well as indirectly addressing the offensive post.

It's not ALL bad--At least they left them the emergency number....

It’s not ALL bad–At least they left them the emergency telephone number to call….

A local U.S. Attorney named Bill Killian organized the meeting, and what was meant to be a conversation turned into a spectacle of  misplaced emotion by a largely anti-Muslim audience. When he told the crowd that speech calling for violence against people was not protected by the First Amendment, he was met with people yelling “Serpent,” “Traitor,” and “Go home!” There have been quite a few incidents of violence and hatred against Muslims in Middle Tennessee–Burned Mosques, vandalism, pickets and protests and whatnot–and when a Muslim advocate named Sabina Mohyuddin mentioned the Mosque that was burned down in nearby Columbia, TN, many in the crowd cheered. It was shameful. Or it should have been. They SHOULD have been ashamed of themselves. You can hear some of the disturbing highlights from the meeting HERE by listening to the NPR story. While you’re there, read the comments below the article, and notice which comments have gotten the most “likes.” It’s just so disappointing….And the most disappointing part (for me, anyway) is that the people who hating the loudest are all Christians.

Horrific. And the work of persons trying to inspire fear and hatred and war. Don't let him succeed.

Horrific. And the work of demented people trying to inspire fear and hatred and war. Don’t let ‘em.

I understand that when we see pictures like this one on the news a person might be inclined to think that all Muslims are waiting to chop up infidels with meat cleavers. It can be pretty scary! Pastors preaching hate, people passing along eMail stories of Christians being murdered by Muslims…. It might even seem like Muslims are the ENEMIES of Christians. It can leave a person feeling unsure of what to do! Well, luckily we have been given very clear instructions on how to respond to our enemies. Here it is (this is Jesus talking): “Love your enemies”. I know this can be confusing, so I have provided a short list of things that are NOT examples of “loving your enemies”–Posting pictures suggesting that we kill them, Protesting their arrival in the community or their attempt to build a place to worship, Spray Painting their stuff, Burning down their place of worship, or Cheering when someone mentions the burning of their place of worship (this list is not exhaustive).

And then they read the words, saw the crosses, and decided to be Christians.

And then they read the words, saw the crosses, and decided to convert to Christianity .

The people who do these horrific acts in the name of Islam are no more representative of Islam than the Westboro Baptist people are representative of Baptists, or the “Christians” screaming at that meeting are representative of Christianity. Ironically, one of the things that Christians are most critical of when generalizing Muslims is that they accuse Islam of being  ”a religion of violence” and that they’re taught to hate people who aren’t Muslims. Is it that hard to see the hypocrisy in this criticism??? You are hating them because you believe they hate, and you are advocating violence because you believe them to be violent! That is, unless all the people making this criticism are really living out Jesus’ call to non-violence and love as a response to hate…. Which I highly doubt. But I’ve been wrong before.

That's funny--I thought we were home....

That’s funny–I thought we were home….

So here’s this: If you are a Christian who hates Muslims, your “Christianity” isn’t worth a shit. Not one shit. I’m sorry, it’s not. I’d seriously rather you call yourself anything else–A Satanist, whatever you’d call someone who worships Paris Hilton as a deity (A Hiltonian I guess?), an Atheist…. ANYTHING, just don’t go around hating people in the name of Jesus. You know what? Don’t call yourself an Atheist either. If you are the sort of jack ass who would cheer when a Muslim woman mentions a Mosque that was burned down in an act of hatred, you’d be giving a bad name to Atheists…. So there you have it.

Alright, here’s the quiz. It’s just one little multiple choice question for you:
They will know we are Christians by our….
A) Hatred of Muslims
B) Patriotic bumper stickers
C) Judgmentalism
D) Heterosexuality
E) Love

If you answered E, congratulations. You passed! Feel free to share this post….
If you answered A, B, C, or D (or, if you were hoping for some sort of “F) All of the above”), you got it wrong. As a punishment, you have to share this liberal blog post as penance. It’s not my rule–It says so in the Bible. But don’t give up! You can take this quiz a many times as it takes until you get it right….
And if you call yourself a follower of Jesus, it’s not your responsibility to stand against Islam. I believe it is a far more important responsibility for Christians to stand up against this sort of hatred in the name of Jesus, and let the world know that the people doing this hating under the guise of “Christianity” are NOT representative of what it means to follow Jesus–Just like the man with the bloody cleaver is not representative of what is means to be a Muslim. If Jesus is the truth, then it will be evident by the way we love each other–even our enemies (ESPECIALLY our enemies–even people who know nothing about Jesus are good to the people who are good to them, right?). No one ever got hated into following Jesus.

Now, please don’t fill my comment section up with “reasons” and “examples” of why Muslims should be feared and hated. You’ll just be proving my point. And you’ll probably also be providing a Muslim somewhere with yet another “reason” and “example” of why Christians should be feared and hated. And on and on it goes….

Also, if you’d like to give to Sojourners and help them raise money to put up billboards that say “Love Your Muslim Neighbor” in places around the country where Christians are giving Jesus a bad name by committing acts of hate in his name, you can do that HERE. I did. It’s a simple act, but it is an act of reconciliation. And that’s something.

Posted in 1) Jesus, 2) Politics | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

An Open Letter To Christians About Gay Boy Scouts

Posted on June 5, 2013 by

To Whom It May Concern (but I’m especially looking at you, Southern Baptists):

There's nothing straighter than those sashes with those colorful little ties....

There’s nothing straighter than those sashes with those colorful little ties and badges….

I’m sure you’ve already heard that the Boy Scouts of America have recently voted to allow kids who are openly gay into scouting. I realize a lot of people are kind of freaking out about this news–People like Bryan Fischer of the “American Family Association” who tweeted things like “BSA now stands for Boy Sodomizers of America, because that’s what will happen. Mark my words.” and “Jesus to BSA: ‘It would be better…if a millstone were hung around his neck and he were cast into the sea.’ Luke 17:2.” Now I’m hearing that a bunch of churches are planning on telling Boy Scout troops that they are no longer allowed to meet on church grounds because of the decision to accept gay scouts as if they were regular kids. I don’t know if I can explain how bad of an idea this is.

Before I get into that, a bit about myself: I was never a Scout, but I was a Cadet (the Christian Reformed Church’s version of Boy Scouts). It was probably a lot like Boy Scouts…. We stuck to very non-gay activities like pooping in the woods, washing ourselves in the river with Ivory Soap, and checking each other for ticks with flashlights in tents. As fun as all this was, at some point it became a little stale. I fell in love with basketball. It just seemed manlier–with the showering together, the smacks on the backside, the balls in your hands…. What a terrific sport. It taught me a lot about life.

Nothing gay about this....

Nothing gay about this….

So listen up, congregations who are actively fighting against equal rights for people who are LGBT–Sometimes in basketball games, there is this strange time near the end of the game where the outcome of the game has already been decided, but there is still some time on the clock. If the game is close, and your team is a behind, sometimes the team who is trailing will repeatedly foul the other team in the hopes they miss some free throws. At least the clock is stopped, and maybe the trailing team can hit some threes…. It’s usually a long shot, but sometimes that’s the only option. But then there are those strange times–Those times when the score is so far out of reach that no amount of fouling is going to allow you to catch the team who is winning–Where the coach calls a time out, he puts in the subs, and tells his players who are still on the court, “Just don’t foul.”

The crowd is getting angry.

The crowd is getting angry.

If it’s not already clear, in this analogy you are the team that has already been beaten. You’ve been fighting for Rejection and Disapproval and Judgment to be the Church’s official policy toward our gay brothers and sisters, but even though there’s some time left on the clock, the game has been decided. There are still some battles to be fought–Battles for equal rights and protections, and battles against discrimination–But believe me when I say this: “The game has been decided, and victory is out of reach for you.” And with every foul you commit, the crowd groans at the prolonging of an inevitable outcome. And what’s worse is that the crowd is turning on you. Even the people sitting in your section of the bleachers are getting upset, and many of them are heading for the doors. Many have already left.

We're totally serious. Please cut it out.

We’re totally serious. Please cut it out.

And the worst part is that the policy for which you fought never really made sense in the first place. For example, with this current fight, you are trying to keep gay boys out of a program that builds character and responsibility and encourages young men to become better citizens…. HOW DOES THIS MAKE SENSE?!?! If you really believe that becoming a Christian cures a person of gayness, then what are you worried about? Think this through: In your world, if someone is gay, then they aren’t saved, right? And you believe it’s your job to introduce unsaved people to Jesus in order to get them saved, correct? I mean, you couldn’t possibly believe people have to clean up their act BEFORE accepting Jesus…. So how in the world are all these unsaved gay people ever going to be introduced to Jesus if you don’t let them in your clubs or make them feel welcome in your communities? It’s starting to feel like maybe you don’t want LGBT people meeting your Jesus. Or maybe you’re afraid that they will meet Jesus, love him every bit as much as you do, and they won’t suddenly be magically attracted to people of the opposite gender. Then you’d be forced into a position of either believing they really don’t love Jesus, or that their same-sex orientation (unlike the decision to follow Jesus) is NOT something a person chooses any more than you “chose” to be straight. And I realize that’s a tough place to be–especially when all you’ve ever been told is that being gay people are going to hell–but I came through it alright…. You will too. To repent literally means “to change your mind.” It’s time for the Church to repent.

Members of a Church at a gay pride parade, apologizing on behalf of Christians.

Members of a Church at a gay pride parade, apologizing on behalf of Christians.

So, here’s what I want you to do. First) I want you to say you’re sorry. Every stinking time that people are trying to make the LGBT members of our community feel like second class citizens, the Church is behind it. We’ve got a lot to apologize for…. And even if you don’t feel like your particular Church is guilty, just go ahead and say you’re sorry anyway. Second) Even if deep down you believe that being gay is a probably a sinful choice, I want you to keep it to yourself, and I want you to treat every man, woman, and child who is gay, lesbian, bisexual, or transgender exactly the same as you would treat anyone else in your life. If you are right, and if being a follower of Jesus means gay people turning straight, it is neither your judgment nor your exclusion that is going to do it–It is going to be a deep relationship with Jesus Christ. And Third) I want you to find a person (at least one person–maybe even more than one) who is LGBT, and I want you to become that person’s friend. Really get to know him or her. Listen to his story. Find out what she believes. Learn about their families, and what it was like coming out. Attempt to love a person free from any judgment, and pretend like it’s not your job to convict someone of their sin…. Because it’s not.

But above all, please stop fouling! The game is over. I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you lost. Please, just let the clock run out so we can get to the part where we all shake hands and say, “Good game.”

Peace,

The Boeskool

Post Script: It should be noted that the team the Church has been fighting against is not the LGBT community. Just like in the fight for civil rights for women and for minorities, the Church has been battling another part of itself, hand in hand with populations who are experiencing injustice. There is a part of the Church that fears change–whether that change is racial diversity, female preachers, or welcoming people who are LGBT to the table. And any strategy of hatred against people who fear change or people who “don’t get it yet” will be every bit as ineffective as a strategy of hatred against gay Boy Scouts. For it is His lovingkindness that draws us to repentance.

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Proof That God Exists

Posted on June 4, 2013 by

I think I can prove to you that there is a God.

Bacon--More proof that God exists. The food, not the actor.... Fine. Both.

Bacon–More proof that God exists. The food, not the actor…. Fine. Both.

This has nothing to do with Heaven or Hell or Jesus (not right now, at least–Maybe later. Or earlier), so if you get freaked out by those things, you can relax for a minute. This isn’t an attempt to convert anyone to any religion…. This is just a simple matter of right and wrong, and right and wrong is not limited to one religious tradition. There is something greater than us out there–something that can’t be seen or measured, but we can all feel it and “know” it’s there–even though many people deny its existence. I realize that a lot of you don’t need any proof, but there are also a lot of people out there who carelessly toss around the word “Atheist,” and I don’t think you’ve really thought things through. Which is weird, because most people who would characterize themselves as an Atheist would probably also characterize themselves as being very rational. Lucky for them, I LOVE people who value rationality–Especially when I get to be the one to show them how irrational they are being.

Let’s not pretend: I’m not writing this for purely altruistic reasons…. I used to date a girl who smoked (I know, right? She tricked me–I started liking her before I knew). I really wanted her to stop smoking. I gave her all kinds of (what I thought were) great reasons to quit (“It stinks.” “It’s expensive.” “It will make you wrinkly.” “It stinks.” ”It’s terrible for you.” “You’re going to quit someday–why not now?” “If not for you, do it for me!” Did I mention ”It stinks?”), but she kept on smoking, much to my chagrin. Then one day, a friend who was basically my mentor said to a group of people, “If you smoke, you should quit.” Of course THIS is the thing that got her to quit smoking…. I was insecure, and I was about as PISSED as I could be. I learned something about myself that day: It really wasn’t that I wanted the best for her. I wanted to be the one who convinced her what was best for her. There’s a big difference–One is loving, and the other is selfish. Anyway, I’ve grown up a lot some since then, but forgive me if part of the reason I’m writing this is because I get off a bit on changing peoples’ minds.

This guy is really smart, but he's got the God thing wrong.

Really smart, but he’s got the God thing all wrong.

So, I’m far from the first one to use this reasoning (C.S. Lewis, Kant and John Henry Newman have all made similar cases, to name a few), but here it is: Morality exists. There are things that everybody (other than a random sociopath here and there) knows are right, and other things that are known to be wrong. We might not always make the right decision, but most of the time we know (or at least have a sense) which one is right (or at least better) without ever having to be told. And if this higher moral law exists, then reason tells us there has to be something greater than us (AKA a “higher power”) to put those objective moral truths in place.

As much as we can know that steak is real, we can know that some things are right and other things are wrong.

As much as we can know that steak is real, we can know that some things are right and other things are wrong.

Now, some people think that morality is just the result of some sort of  herding instinct that has been passed down–That we instinctively know moral truths because natural selection picked those of us who think that helping each other is the right thing to do. But here’s the thing: Many people avoid acting immorally even when it would be to their advantage to do so. And flip that around–Our conscience urges us to act morally even when it looks like it could get us hurt…. And self-sacrifice is not a very likely attribute to get passed down through the generations, right? Others might claim that morality is purely subjective–That what is right for one might be wrong for another–and sometimes this is true. For some, killing a cow for a meal is repugnant and even evil, but others see this action as a necessary means to provide the world with a ribeye steak–the sweetest cut of meat known to man. Going topless on a French beach might be just fine, while going topless in Destin will surely be viewed as immoral or “wrong” (thinking of all of the hits my blog will get now from people Googling ”topless in Destin.”). But there are some things that we all know (as much as we can know anything) are morally right or morally wrong. I witnessed one of these clear moral truths the other night in my kids’ bedroom….

The sign at the city line says "Destin, Florida--Where white, middle-class Christians go to sit on the beach."

The sign at the city line says “Destin, Florida–Where white, middle-class Christians go to sit on the beach.”

First, know this: My son loves his pillow. He loves it like a junkie loves a pillow. That’s full of crack. Anyway, I heard giggling late at night long after the kids should have been asleep. When I went in to quiet them down, I found my boy in bed with his sister. We sometimes let this go if it’s quiet, but if they’re noisy? Nope. When I told him he needed to get back in his own bed, he screamed, “YOU’RE THE WORST DAD IN THE WHOLE WORLD!” and tried to kick me as I put him in the top bunk. As a result, he lost his pillow (a very serious consequence). He was…. I think “distraught” is too mild a term. Things finally settled down, but when I went in to check them before I went to bed, I noticed that the boy had somehow gotten his hands on a pillow. And that his older sister was missing hers (queue Dramatic Chipmunk music).

One of two things happened here. One was clearly morally wrong, and the other was about as morally right as things get. Either my son waited until his sister was asleep and pilfered her pillow, or my sweet daughter saw that the boy was inconsolable and sacrificed her own comfort to crying brother (I suppose there is a third option that is in a morally gray area where he bought her pillow using whatever currency elementary school students use and made her a deal she couldn’t refuse…. But you get the idea). One action was wrong in any culture at any time, and the other action was an act of selflessness and love that anyone would recognize as being morally right. Or, for lack of a better term, “Good.” Good and bad, right and wrong, love and hate–These things are bigger than us. They are a laws we are bound to at least acknowledge (though we are free to ignore) that are “written on our hearts.” And something, maybe even someONE, did the writing.

Mckayla Maroney is not impressed with the argument for Atheism. Neither am I.

Mckayla Maroney is not impressed with the argument for Atheism. Neither am I.

So if the structure of a moral law exists, it makes sense that a moral entity/being would exist to hold up that structure up. However, the fact that this makes sense is only of value to a person if that person values things making sense…. This is getting a little too philosophical. The point is this: We all recognize right and wrong in The Case of the Pilfered Pillow (or “The Pillow Case,” as I also like to call it), even if we might disagree on the “rightness” or “wrongness” of other situational analogies. The moral choice is not clear in every decision, but sometimes it is clear, and those clear situations are Arrows that point to God. Had my son taken my daughter’s pillow, it would have been wrong–Just as certainly as everything in me knew that my daughter did something very right when she explained that she gave the boy her pillow “because he was sad, and I wanted to make him feel better.” This is the knowledge of God, even though some might try to deny it.

Posted in 5) Not Quite Sure | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 13 Comments

An Open Letter To God About Tonight’s Powerball

Posted on May 18, 2013 by

Dear God,

image

The line at the Mapco

I’m writing this on my phone…. That’s how much this means to me. I’m going to make this quick, because I’m sure you’re dealing with a lot of prayers right now.

image

This is me praying, Lord…. But you already know that.

We both know this is my only shot at having more money than I know what to do with. I know everybody probably says this, but I totally mean it: I’m going to do a lot of
good with this money. We’re talking poor kids, we’re talking homeless people, we’re talking parties where nobody had to BYOB…. I’m at my second job, Lord. I’m getting old. My feet are already sore, and we both know about the chafing. Please God…. I’ll never ask for another thing.

Well…. One more thing: Please don’t let anyone else win other than me. $600 million is not enough to split.

Thank you in advance,

The Boeskool

***UPDATE***

There is no God.

This has got to be at least partially your fault.... Thanks a lot, Obama.

This has got to be at least partially your fault…. Thanks a lot, Obama.

Just kidding, of course. Well, as you already know, God (as evidenced by the fact that I ate peanut butter and pickle sandwiches for dinner tonight), I sure didn’t win the Powerball. I’m sure this dude in Florida is way more deserving than I am…. Though it seems hard to imagine. Probably one of those jack asses who never swears. It does say a lot about me, though, that even though my chances are always 1 in 175,000,000, I only find it worth playing when the jackpot gets up over $200,000,000. I mean, if I took the lump sum, it would still only be just over $50,000,000 after taxes…. and that’s almost more hassle than it’s worth. So much for that whole “Tell the mountain to throw itself into the sea” thing, am I right? I kid, I kid….

Anyway, I’m a little bit disappointed, but I’ll get over it. Plus, I don’t want to get TOO mad at you because the jackpot for this coming Wednesday is already $40 million…. And I don’t want to burn any bridges. Keep up the good work, God.

p.s. And to all the people I bribed with $10,000 to share this post, I know you were all rooting for me (us) to win, but please don’t blame God for me not winning. It’s not his fault. It was probably because of some crap I did in middle school. Stupid adolescence….

Posted in Uncategorized | 1 Comment

Let A Man Handle This, Ladies….

Posted on May 16, 2013 by
I bought my wife Justin Timberlake tickets for a Mother's Day gift, and then I gave her the Anniversary gift of me NOT going with her, so she doesn't have to feel guilty when she swoons for him.

I bought my wife Justin Timberlake tickets for a Mother’s Day gift, and then I gave her the Anniversary gift of me NOT going with her, so she doesn’t have to feel guilty when she swoons for him.

My wife loves it when I help people. Every time I have ever stopped to help a stranded motorist she has practically swooned. I suppose it makes me feel good to help out as well…. it’s just that after I stop to help, I am practically worthless. I know very little about how to fix a car that isn’t working. I’m one of those guys who pops the hood–knowing full well that it would be a complete miracle if I actually figured out what’s wrong–and then I’ll just stare…. maybe muttering words like “manifold” or “intake” or “ball bearings” or “calipers.” But even though my wife knows that I am relatively clueless when it comes to fixing cars, she still loves to watch me try to be helpful. One time when I helped a stranger push his car into a gas station, you’d have thought she was watching Justin Timberlake dance. In the rain. With his shirt off.

"Don't get too close to me. 'Cause I've got an itch you can't believe. I think something laid eggs on me." Barry's very good. But he's no Fonzie.

“Don’t get too close to me. ‘Cause I’ve got an itch you can’t believe. I think something laid eggs on me.”
Barry’s very good. But he’s no Fonzie.

So the other day while we were eating outside, when I saw a group of ladies standing around a car trying to get the trunk to close, I figured I would walk over and give them a hand. Admittedly, I’m not great under the hood…. But the TRUNK??? I sauntered over with an air of “I’ve got this ladies. Help has arrived. I was just on my way to the weight room, but I’ve got a moment.” Actually, it looked more like me intentionally clearing my throat so they would see me coming and not get freaked out by the creepy, bearded guy who was suddenly standing in their half circle looking into their trunk. They were like, “Sure, give it a try.” I tried all my tricks. I tried brute force, I tried pushing on the latch with my key, I even tried giving it The Fonz (where you hit it with your fist to get it to work a la Happy Days)–Nothing worked. Although, when I tried “The Fonz,” the radio did start playing “I found my thrill on Blueberry Hill.” Within a few minutes, I was muttering something about calipers.

Calipers....

Calipers….

Dejected, and a more than a bit humbled, I walked back over to Lillian to break the news to her that her Knight in Shining Armor was actually not victorious this time. Her Arthur Fonzarelli came off looking like a Potsie Weber…. And then she goes, “Did you check to make sure that the emergency trunk release wasn’t pulled?” Umm…. No. I walked back over, and of course that’s exactly what it was. They were all “My hero!! We can’t thank you enough. You totally saved the day!!! What’s your name again?” Potsie Weber, Ma’am. Nice to meet you. I explained that it was actually my wife who figured it out. When she walked out of the restaurant (after taking the kids to the bathroom), I pointed toward her, and all of us–four middle-aged women with a trunkful of wine, as well as the creepy, bearded “caliper” guy–cheered wildly for our hero.

"You know where the weight room is? I'll check it out...."

“You know where the weight room is? I’ll check it out….”

Now, I don’t want to get too deep about things–Sometimes a story is just a story–but driving away, I was reminded again how important every single person is in this world. Whether it’s a community, a business, a Church–We would be so screwed if all we had to rely on were the biggest, the strongest, and the loudest people to provide the solutions we desperately need. Many times the best answers are given by the people who are in the least hurry to give them. And many times we look to the jack ass who knows the word manifold for answers, when we should be looking to the woman who’s trying to make sure the kids washed their hands after they went potty. But who am I kidding…. She doesn’t have time to solve your problems.

Thank God for my wife.

FYI….As a post script and a disclaimer, most of the funniest things in this post my wife came up with. She also kept me from making a fool out of myself by writing “brut force” instead of “brute force.” Spell check’s not going to catch that one….

Posted in 5) Not Quite Sure | Tagged , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Mark Sanford–The Pride of South Carolina

Posted on May 8, 2013 by
Rep. Sanford, seen here with the healthy orange hue of success.

Rep. Sanford, seen here with the healthy Boehner-orange hue of success.

So, The Palmetto State just elected Mark Sanford as their their Congressman for South Carolina’s 1st Congressional District. If that name sounds familiar, it might be because you remember him as the Governor of South Carolina who disappeared for five days, telling his wife, as well as everyone else, that he was going for a walk on the Appalachian Trail, but instead using taxpayer money to fly to Argentina to be with his mistress (to whom he is now engaged). He then lied about it some more, he was fined $70,000 (the largest fine in the state’s history) for multiple ethics violations, and he and his wife divorced. You might have also heard about it because Stephen Colbert’s sister Elizabeth Colbert Busch was his democratic challenger for the district seat. Or, maybe you didn’t know anything about it.

"So I've made some mistakes.... Haven't we all? That's no reason not to hold office. Trust me--I'm a doctor.

“So I’ve made some mistakes…. Haven’t we all? That’s no reason not to hold office. You can trust me–I’m a doctor.”

Well, whether you knew about it or not, he won. There are some places in this country that you could literally put a republican pin on a day-old turd and it would beat any democratic challenger in an election. Take, for example, Tennessee’s 4th Congressional District, who elected pro-life republican candidate Scott DesJarlais as their representative. They elected him after it had come out that while he was Chief of Staff at a hospital, he had multiple affairs with his coworkers and patients in his care–at least one of whom he prescribed pain pills to. It also came out that he got one of his patients pregnant, and then pressured her to get an abortion. And, if you can believe it, it gets a lot worse than that. But fortunately for him, his opponent was a democrat, so…. Hello Mr. Congressman! Of course, this happens in democratic districts as well–it just doesn’t seem to happen with as much flair as Mr. Sanford or Mr. DesJarlais.

I truly love this man.

I truly love this man.

Anyway, Mark Sanford, disgraced former Governor, is now the member-elect for the U.S. House of Representatives for South Carolina’s 1st Congressional District. At his victory party last night, he credited “human grace,” as well as God’s grace, for his victory, saying “I just want to acknowledge a God not just of second chances, but of third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh and eighth chances … because that’s the reality of our shared humanity.” And this is true. God is a God second chances. I mean, King David was an adulterer and a murderer, and Samuel still considered him “a man after God’s own heart” (of course, that was before some of those really bad decisions happened, but let’s not quibble about semantics). As I reminded people about very recently, “We have all fallen short of the glory of God.” “LET HE WHO IS WITHOUT POLITICAL SCANDAL CAST THE FIRST STONE!!!”

I'd like to be your hair stylist.

I’d like to be your hair stylist.

And I get that. Everybody makes mistakes. We are all fallen. Judge not, lest ye be judged, and all that…. But here’s the thing: We can keep ourselves from judging a person and still understand that a person should not be in a position of leadership. We don’t hire convicted pedophiles as kindergarten teachers, we don’t go to unethical doctors who use their position to have sex with their patients, and we shouldn’t elect people to Congress who have shown incredible and astonishing lapses of judgement like these. And the ones I’ve mentioned were not even the worst examples of Sanford’s bad judgment. Consider this: After cheating on his wife, tearing their family apart, and even being charged with trespassing in her home, Mark Sanford–short on funds because the the National Republican Congressional Committee pulled funding from his campaign–went to his ex wife (who comes from a very wealthy and well-connected family that helped finance his earlier political campaigns) and had the chutzpah to…. wait for it…. ASK HER FOR MONEY!!! Anyone with that kind of stupidity should probably be kept as far away from a position of leadership as possible.

But that’s not what happened here. I guess I’m pretty stupid as well–Stupid enough to think that people could vote based on a person’s character rather than on the letter in front of their name. Oh well. You got what you asked for, South Carolina: Another republican vote in the House. But you got something else as well: You also positioned your state firmly as the laughing stock of the country–The leader in being the butt of America’s jokes. I suppose it’s not all bad…. Anything that takes the focus off of Tennessee.

Posted in 2) Politics | Tagged , , , , , , , | 1 Comment

Bury The Boston Bomber in My Backyard

Posted on May 6, 2013 by
In this country we bury people. This man is dead.... Let's bury him.

In this country we bury people. This man is dead…. Let’s bury him.

If you haven’t heard by now, they are having a very hard time finding a cemetery willing to accept the body of Tamerlan Tsarnaev, the alleged Boston Marathon bomber who was killed in a shootout with police a few days after the bombing. A lot of the cemeteries are afraid of push back by angry relatives of loved ones buried there, as well as being afraid that people might not buy lots there in the future because one of the men responsible for the bombs that left three people dead and more than 150 people injured is buried there. Islamic law forbids cremation, so they’re trying to find a place to bury this guy…. No takers.

In all seriousness.... I've got some really beautiful feet.

In all seriousness…. I’ve got some really beautiful feet.

Now, I realize that different people have different reverence for what happens to a person’s body after he or she dies. Me? I don’t care at all. If any part of me can be used to help someone who is still alive, I say “Great!” Cut me up however you would like, and use whichever parts you need. Have them all! I have some very lovely feet, turns out…. If I’m dead–Take ‘em! I realize not everyone believes the same thing about burial, but seriously…. Someone give this guy a hole! I realize that we are pretty close to certain that he was responsible for the bombings, and I understand that there are many people out there who cannot forgive him for that, but he is already dead. Do we really need to even pass judgement on his remains? I’m just not understanding this.

Yup.

Yup. That’s me.

Here’s the thing: There are murderers buried in every cemetery. There are rapists. There are adulterers. There wife-beaters. There are liars. There are thieves. I’m sure that in many cases, all of these sins are contained in one grave. Some of these same people probably have monuments around town–If we start only allowing sinless people into cemeteries, things are going to pretty stinky up here above ground. I realize this man hurt a lot of people, and I’m not saying that is okay, but he’s already paid with his life. He did something horrible, but this is still someone’s son. I don’t know…. Here’s what I’m saying: You can bury the man in my backyard. If no one else will take him, I will. My yard’s not that big, but I’m sure we can find a spot. His grave will be a reminder to me and my family of how we have all fallen short of the glory of God, and it’s not the good that we do that earns us forgiveness–or even something as simple as a resting place–But it’s God’s love and grace and mercy that are our only hope. Let us live that way.

Posted in 5) Not Quite Sure | Tagged , , | 9 Comments

A Public Pooping Cautionary Tale

Posted on May 6, 2013 by

Somewhere in the world, there is an old man with a story…. A story that doesn’t get told to just anyone. It’s a story that maybe only gets told when large amounts of wine have been enjoyed. It’s a story that, due to the personal trauma it has caused him, maybe he has convinced himself didn’t really take place. But it did take place. I know. Because I was there. This old man’s story is the story of a deranged and wild-eyed college student who attempted to force his way into his stall while he sat there trying to move his bowels in peace and something like privacy. How do I know? Because, you see…. I was that college student.

Though it had much of the same support, it was way more flowery and frilly than the Manzier/Bro.

Though it had much of the same support, hers was way more flowery and frilly than the Manzier/Bro.

It was a day like any other day. Except on this day, as I sat in an Interim class learning about music theory, I and one of my friends watched as one of our female classmate’s lace-covered breasts popped completely out of her blouse. She was wearing some sort of shiny shirt–satin or silk or something–and, for some reason, it only had three buttons: One near the top, one in the middle, and one just above where it gets tucked in. At some point during the class (Interim classes were three hours long), the middle button had come undone. This particular classmate asked and answered a lot of questions, and raised her hand quite a bit…. I guess it just got jostled free. We watched in horrified joy as she raised her hand to answer a question, and she exposed the entirety of her boob–fancy bra and all–to us, as well as (the thing that made it truly funny) to our aging and proper music professor. It was impossible not to notice, but he acted like he couldn’t see her, even though her hand was the only hand in the air. This annoyed her, and she started to wave her hand around a little bit to get his attention (no one else was answering, because we were all captivated by the strange dance of discomfort and desire and denial unfolding before our eyes), and things got…. jiggly.

Our music professor said he thought it was a good time for a break. It was.

It was a face much like Vladimir Putin is making here....

It was a face much like Vladimir Putin is making here….

We all stood up and milled around for a bit. A girl in our class told her that her button had come undone, she blushed and buttoned her blouse, and she walked out of the classroom. While in the hallway, we relived every awkward moment–him asking a question, her waving hand trying to get called on, and his contorted face as he pretended like he couldn’t see her. We laughed so hard we thought we might pee, so we ran into the bathroom. There was a urinal and a stall, and my friend beat me to the urinal, so I headed for the stall–laughing the whole time.

I am working on a piece of legislation that would make these signs mandatory at all public restrooms, but it's being held up in committee.... Stupid Tea Party.

I am working on a piece of legislation that would make these signs mandatory at all public restrooms, but it’s being held up in committee…. Stupid Tea Party.

I pushed open the door, but for an unknown reason the door didn’t open the whole way–which was something I was unaccustomed to feeling when opening a bathroom stall. To my surprise, the door was being pushed back at me, and I realized that we were not alone in that restroom. Now, understand this: I would have been more than happy to let the occupant of that stall close the door, but my feet were already inside the stall, and to keep from falling over I had to push the door back toward him…. Thus began a few moments (though it felt like an eternity) of him pushing the door closed while I seemed to be attempting to force my way–occupant be damned–onto that toilet seat. At some point during the struggle, our eyes met (his eyes filled with a combination of confusion and fear), and I realized that the person protecting his potty was my professor. He couldn’t pretend his way out of this awkwardness. In what felt like minutes later, I gained my balance, pulled the door to, and ran out of the bathroom choking back laughter. My friend ran out with me. I’m not sure if he finished or not…. It was just understood by both of us that it was time to leave.

Here's a German sign, letting people know that there should be no pooping on seats, or while drinking or eating a snow cone....

Here’s a German sign, letting people know that there should be no pooping on subway seats, while drinking a soda, or while eating a snow cone….

In that moment of eye-contact, as my music professor and I struggled–I for my balance, he for his dignity–we made as unspoken promise to never, ever mention this incident to each other. We kept that promise. But the story lives on….

And I am reminded of it every time a stranger walks into a bathroom while I am in a stall. The hilarious horror of that afternoon haunts me to this day. And this is really the reason I share this story with you now. If you are doing your business in a public stall, do the rest of us a favor and follow these three simple rules of pooping etiquette:

  1.  LOCK THE DOOR. If there is one stall and one urinal, there is a lock on the main door to the bathroom, and you are using the stall to drop a deuce, just go ahead and lock the main door. If a person walks in there to pee, no one wants to stand there and pee next to you while you stink up the joint and make poo noises with nothing separating us except a thin piece of metal.
  2. MAKE SOME NOISE. If you can’t lock everyone else out while you throw down, the least you can do is alert people to your presence. I do this without fail. If a person walks into the bathroom while I’m sitting down, I’m making some noise to let ‘em know I’m there…. Whether it’s clearing my throat, tapping my foot, or whistling a happy tune–Sometimes all three. Make some freaking noise.
  3. LATCH THE STALL. If the previous lines of defense break down, and the person walking in is either too dumb to look under the door for feet or too preoccupied because he just saw a girl’s boob pop out of her shirt, the least you can do is make sure  your stall door is latched. And if there is no latch, you had better have your hand on the door to keep it shut. And if there is no door and you decide to go anyway, it better be an absolute emergency. Because nobody–neither humans nor animals–wants to make eye contact with a stranger while they’re taking a twosie.

I hope this cautionary tale cautions your airy tail. And if you’re reading this post on your phone in a public bathroom while you’re sitting down, take a moment to look up and make sure the door is latched. You never know who might try to get in there with you….

Posted in 3) Bathroom Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

You’re Not A Christian If….

Posted on April 24, 2013 by
This DJ would NEVER wish Hell on someone. Uncle Jesse, maybe....

This DJ would NEVER wish Hell on someone. Uncle Jesse, maybe….

I was listening to the radio last week–it was a couple of days after the bombs went off in Boston–and the DJ was talking about finding the person/persons who did it. She said, “I hope that we find whoever did this, I hope we bring them to justice, and I hope they go straight to Hell” (I can’t be sure, but it seems like her idea of “bring them to justice” means to kill them as a punishment for the people that they killed and hurt. Incidentally, she used her vocal hopes of eternal damnation as a segue into a spoken advertisement for some sort of dog food. It went “hope they go STRAIGHT TO HELL! *pause….* You know, I love my dog a whole lot, and I want to do what’s best for it….” It was jarring, to say the least).

You can't be a Christian if you carry a gun. Wait a second....

You can’t be a Christian if you carry a gun. Wait a second….

Most of the time I believed it was garbage when people would say something like “You’re not a Christian if….” followed by whatever. You can’t be a Christian if you’re Pro-Choice. You’re not a Christian if you go to THAT church. You can’t be gay and be a Christian. If you don’t believe that Hell is an eternity of torture, you aren’t really a Christian. You’re not a Christian if you don’t believe in the Trinity, or the Virgin Birth, or the Rapture, or whatever…. There is this dichotomy between “real Christians” and people who just call themselves Christians (Not too surprisingly, the person talking is almost always a part of the group containing the “real Christians”). This is the stuff of division and disunion and denominations…. “They’re geting it all wrong, but WE’VE got it right.”

The state may decide to take this teen's life, but if you call yourself a Christian, you're heart should break for this young man.

The state may decide to take this teen’s life, but if you call yourself a Christian, you’re heart should break for this young man.

As much as it can sound arbitrary and judgmental to add these sorts of hardline qualifying statements to right Christian doctrine, I think I’ve decided on one that works for me. Here it is: If you wish Hell on another person, you’re not a Christian. Let me qualify that, because “Christian” can mean a lot of things to a lot of different people (as can “Hell”). If you believe (I don’t, but many people do) that Hell is an eternity of torture–one where someone’s essence is prolonged in tortuous agony for a million years, and when that million years is up, you still have a billion years to go, followed by a trillion more years of torture after that–and you think another person’s actions DESERVE that fate and you wish that on them, then you probably don’t know Jesus at all. He hasn’t changed your heart. You aren’t aware of how depraved you are…. Or the gigantic grace and God-sized love that saved you. And if you would wish an eternity of torture on someone else, regardless of the heinous act a person may have committed, you are probably way more in danger of the fires of some sort of Hell than any misguided kid who sets off a bomb in a crowd of people.

The man I met looked nothing like this. Other than the margarita.

The man I met looked nothing like this. Other than the margarita.

Not too long ago, I met an old Quaker. He was a man in his 80′s, he was wearing overalls that looked to be older than me, and his every movement and word seemed to be thick with love and peace. He’s a man who has spent the last 40 years going to visit death row inmates. He goes into the prisons in an attempt to bring some light and love into a place that tries as hard as possible to dehumanize people who have done some terrible things. He started doing this after his daughter was murdered. The men have to have been on death row for at least fifteen years before they are allowed to come to his class. He talked about how these men are not the same people who committed those crimes that ended someone’s life–crimes that, in turn, resulted in those men being told they are not worth keeping alive. He is an advocate for these men and their humanness, despite the horrific actions of their youth. He is an advocate for love and mercy and forgiveness. And he is an advocate for Jesus–Not the counterfeit Jesus that’s full of hate and damnation for everyone who doesn’t hold your group’s particular understanding of doctrine, but the Jesus who looked at an unbaptized, condemned criminal on a cross next to him and said, “Today, you’re going to be with me in paradise.” The Jesus who told the people that the Samaritan (who believed all the wrong things) was doing a better job of following the command to love than the priests were doing (who had all the “right” doctrine). You know–The Jesus of the Bible.

No one anywhere in the world sees this and is inspired to follow Jesus.

No one anywhere in the world sees this and is inspired to follow Jesus.

At this very moment, there is probably a person somewhere in the world right now praying that you go straight to hell. Maybe it’s  a man somewhere far away from here. Maybe it’s the father of a murdered daughter. Maybe it was a daughter who was killed by a drone attack while playing at a birthday party. But there is no power in “an eye for an eye.” There is no inspiration in vengeance…. There is only more death. As unforgivable as a person’s actions/crimes/sins might seem, it is mercy, forgiveness, love that inspires the world. People cheering when Osama Bin Laden died…. People crying out for the death penalty…. People demanding an quick dismissal to an eternity of torture–These are NOT the actions of a people who follow Jesus. They are the actions of people who don’t realize or don’t remember that they’ve received mercy. And that’s some scary stuff, especially if you consider that Jesus might have meant it when he said “the way that you judge others will be the way that you will be judged, and you will be evaluated by the standard with which you evaluate others.”

I know, I know…. This one was hilarious. My very wise wife is telling me I need to step up the funny, but this past week was a kick in the nuts. But really though, what’s funnier than telling self-righteous people that they don’t really know Jesus, right? I’ll tell you what’s funnier: My next blog post. Count on it.

Posted in 1) Jesus, 2) Politics | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 34 Comments

Thoughts And Prayers About The Boston Marathon Bombing

Posted on April 16, 2013 by
Jokes on you, racist people holding hateful signs.... Those kids can't even read yet!

Jokes on you, racist people holding hateful signs…. Those kids can’t even read yet!

There was a bomb that went off here in Nashville too. A bomb was detonated inside of a little school called Hattie Cotton Elementary a little over 55 years ago. It went off one day after President Eisenhower signed The Civil Rights Act of 1957, and it was also one day after the first day of school, as Nashville begrudgingly complied with orders to integrate their schools. They decided to integrate one grade per year, starting with first graders, until after twelve years all the schools would be desegregated. The day before the bomb went off, one five-year-old African American walked into Hattie Cotton through a crowd of shouting, boycotting, hating people. A little after midnight, a dynamite explosion blew up a whole wing of the school. It’s thought that the people who planted the bomb believed this act of violence would scare leaders into abandoning their plans for integration…. It did not have that effect. That day, terrorists destroyed a whole wing of the school, but this senseless act galvanized the people’s resolve to stand behind the decision to integrate, and there weren’t any more incidents after that. Hattie Cotton reopened a few months later, and it’s still there today–I’ve been there to teach kids about accepting differences.

Screw it.

Screw it.

Today, after the news of the Boston Marathon Bombing broke, I watched as a whole lot of people said the words “Thoughts and Prayers.” Thoughts and Prayers…. What the hell does that even mean? I’m serious. I’m looking at pictures of blood-soaked streets, and I can just FEEL myself getting more and more cynical. I’m reading “Thoughts and Prayers” on all these Facebook statuses and I’m thinking, “Put your thoughts and prayers in one hand and take a crap in the other, and see which one fills up first.” THAT kind of cynicism. I don’t know what power our prayers have at a time like this…. I started thinking about people using this as a reason to buy some more guns. I started thinking about how people are going to react if the person who did this horrible thing turns out to be a Muslim. I started thinking about all the hateful and racist and ignorant things that get written in the comments section of news stories, and I thought about all the people who “like” those comments, and I started feeling like everything is just bullshit.

But everything isn’t bullshit.

"If I had settled this country, we'd all be dead right now. You'd be dead 'cause I would have been out there going, 'Oh, my inner child doesn't feel like chopping wood today." ~ Patton Oswalt

Behold. The face of a modern prophet….

I know–It might seem like everything is bullshit when you read the comments section online, but those people writing those hate-filled things are all cowards. These people who resort to violence and bombs and terror…. They are all cowards too. They hide behind their screens and their fear and their hatred and their murder, and they don’t matter. They don’t inspire. You know what inspires? People who hear two explosions and start running toward the destruction–with the memories of the Twin Towers still ringing in their heads. Two bombs go off on the bottom floors of some big buildings, and people rush toward it trying to do what they can. It’s wonderful! And people try to turn this sort of bravery into “An American Thing.” It’s not. It’s a human thing. Today in Iraq, 55 people were killed and over 300 hurt in a series of explosions…. It will barely make a blip on our U.S. news. But the people living in Iraq ran to help those who were hurt as well. Humans are wonderful. There is good and bad in all of us, but the good is so much more inspiring than the bad is scary.

I was reminded of this today by Patton Oswalt who wrote these amazing words:

Boston. Fucking horrible.

I remember, when 9/11 went down, my reaction was, “Well, I’ve had it with humanity.”

But I was wrong. I don’t know what’s going to be revealed to be behind all of this mayhem. One human insect or a poisonous mass of broken sociopaths.

But here’s what I DO know. If it’s one person or a HUNDRED people, that number is not even a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of a percent of the population on this planet. You watch the videos of the carnage and there are people running TOWARDS the destruction to help out. (Thanks FAKE Gallery founder and owner Paul Kozlowski for pointing this out to me). This is a giant planet and we’re lucky to live on it but there are prices and penalties incurred for the daily miracle of existence. One of them is, every once in awhile, the wiring of a tiny sliver of the species gets snarled and they’re pointed towards darkness.

But the vast majority stands against that darkness and, like white blood cells attacking a virus, they dilute and weaken and eventually wash away the evil doers and, more importantly, the damage they wreak. This is beyond religion or creed or nation. We would not be here if humanity were inherently evil. We’d have eaten ourselves alive long ago.

So when you spot violence, or bigotry, or intolerance or fear or just garden-variety misogyny, hatred or ignorance, just look it in the eye and think, “The good outnumber you, and we always will.”

Who would have thought that Patton Oswalt would be the one to pull me out of the funk that I was in? He, along with Mr. Rogers really helped me. Fred Rogers, whose words we all needed to hear today:

“When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’ To this day, especially in times of ‘disaster,’ I remember my mother’s words, and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers – so many caring people in this world.”

It IS a beautiful day for a neighbor....

It IS a beautiful day for a neighbor….

It really is about what you’re looking for–If you’re looking for a reason to hate and be cynical and afraid, you will find them. There are plenty to go around. But if you “look for the helpers,” you can’t help but be encouraged and comforted by all the caring people in this world. Patton Oswalt and Mr. Rogers…. An unlikely tag team to remind me once again that love is stronger than hate.

Sometimes, we see a person do something horrible and we get scared. We allow ourselves to get even more filled with fear than we already were. Other times, something horrible happens and we react with bravery and selflessness and kindness and love. And we leave our fear behind us. Where it belongs…. Those are my Thoughts. And here are my Prayers: Let this be one of those times. Let this be a time that we observe senseless violence and terror and we refuse to let it bring about hatred and cynicism and fear. Let us be inspired by the helpers. Let us look acts of violence in the eye, and tell them they are outnumbered. Let this be one of those times that an act of hatred works to build our resolve to love. Thank you Patton Oswalt. Thank you Mr. Rogers. Thank you Jesus! Amen.

Posted in 1) Jesus, 5) Not Quite Sure | Tagged , , , , , , | 11 Comments