Where to Begin
It's hard to know where to begin. The last blog entry I made was an angry one. Since I wrote it there has been more violence here in Indianapolis. Since I wrote it I have been gone for about a week to the Chautauqua Institute in New York. Since I wrote it I have been in and out of the office, in and out of hospital rooms, in and out of telephone conversations, and in and out of my home. I've sat and talked with my friend Mari about grief, I've sat in on church meetings where we talked about the church we have here in wide ranging conversations (asking great questions from my perspective). I read seven books (most of them top notch). Conor has started his senior year in high school and Jordan has started 7th grade. It's been an eventful 12 days -- that's for sure.
So -- what do I write about? Where do I start? My homiletics professor from Drew, Charles Rice, would say "where do you start a sermon? Pick a place and start." So here goes.
Today I sat with my friend and co-worker Jack and we talked about worship at Broadway. We talked about how we help the worship of the people who gather at Broadway form us as people of God. Today I called a friend who was giving a job reference for someone we are considering hiring. On his voice mail the friend said, "May God fill your life with Blessings." (or something like that). I reacted against the message. I thought to myself "We don't need to ask God for blessings -- we need God to relieve our blindness from seeing and knowing the blessings that are in our lives." But what does that mean for us when we gather for worship and when violence and poverty and injustice continue to abound? Today I finally got a response to the letter posted on this blog that I had written to the bishop. He seems open to continuing the conversation. But one of the things he mentioned in his brief response was that he thinks that "justice ministries" should be more focused on at Annual Conference. I wanted to scream "AARRRGGGHHH." Programs aren't going to solve this problem. The problem will begin to be solved -- when the Cabinet sits down to make a decision and they begin by saying -- "we need to put our best clergy in the places that have the lowest income. Because that's where the realm of God is really breaking through and we can't afford to waste seeing it." or "Have you heard about the violence in the Indianapolis area? What are you guys (the two Indianapolis District Superintendents) seeing happen in response to this? What are your congregations doing in relationship to this? What are the people of your districts (not only the church folk, but the people who live in the boundaries of your districts) saying?" But here's the problem. No one is asking them the question.
Andre Lake was one of the last of the 13 murders that have occurred over the last three weeks here in Indianapolis. Andre was a little boy who lived five doors from the church when I lived here in the late 80's, early 90's. He always had an easy smile -- he was a person that made you feel better just by his being around. He was a person who built you up just by being in his presence. And now he's dead. And I've been to meetings and one on one conversations a lot over the past few weeks -- and it's extremely rare to hear this topic come up. I'm not trying to suggest that we all get together and weep and wail. In fact one of the most frustrating things is that I know some "institutional" people (people from the Police Department and other institutions) have gotten together to share their answers. The problem is that those answers are the same ones that they have had for years and years and years. Maybe things shouldn't start with answers, but with questions.
Where to begin? We begin by asking the right questions in the places that we are. We begin by not shying away -- but by jumping right into the tough questions. Because if we don't ask them, they certainly won't be asked anywhere else. Let's do it. And feel good about it. It is our gift.
Talk about these things. If need be -- go sit with family members, friends and neighbors of those who have died. Listen to their stories, and their grief. Pray together. Hold hands. Listen. Something will come. Something will arise. And I'mm pretty sure that what won't arise is glib answers like "mentoring programs" or "community centers" -- but instead, if we listen closely, we can recognize the blessings that God has around us not only this minute, but each and every minute. And if we pay attention I think we can begin to see the mentors that are already there and we can find ways to support, encourage and pray for them. And that will begin to make more of a difference than we can imagine.
So -- what do I write about? Where do I start? My homiletics professor from Drew, Charles Rice, would say "where do you start a sermon? Pick a place and start." So here goes.
Today I sat with my friend and co-worker Jack and we talked about worship at Broadway. We talked about how we help the worship of the people who gather at Broadway form us as people of God. Today I called a friend who was giving a job reference for someone we are considering hiring. On his voice mail the friend said, "May God fill your life with Blessings." (or something like that). I reacted against the message. I thought to myself "We don't need to ask God for blessings -- we need God to relieve our blindness from seeing and knowing the blessings that are in our lives." But what does that mean for us when we gather for worship and when violence and poverty and injustice continue to abound? Today I finally got a response to the letter posted on this blog that I had written to the bishop. He seems open to continuing the conversation. But one of the things he mentioned in his brief response was that he thinks that "justice ministries" should be more focused on at Annual Conference. I wanted to scream "AARRRGGGHHH." Programs aren't going to solve this problem. The problem will begin to be solved -- when the Cabinet sits down to make a decision and they begin by saying -- "we need to put our best clergy in the places that have the lowest income. Because that's where the realm of God is really breaking through and we can't afford to waste seeing it." or "Have you heard about the violence in the Indianapolis area? What are you guys (the two Indianapolis District Superintendents) seeing happen in response to this? What are your congregations doing in relationship to this? What are the people of your districts (not only the church folk, but the people who live in the boundaries of your districts) saying?" But here's the problem. No one is asking them the question.
Andre Lake was one of the last of the 13 murders that have occurred over the last three weeks here in Indianapolis. Andre was a little boy who lived five doors from the church when I lived here in the late 80's, early 90's. He always had an easy smile -- he was a person that made you feel better just by his being around. He was a person who built you up just by being in his presence. And now he's dead. And I've been to meetings and one on one conversations a lot over the past few weeks -- and it's extremely rare to hear this topic come up. I'm not trying to suggest that we all get together and weep and wail. In fact one of the most frustrating things is that I know some "institutional" people (people from the Police Department and other institutions) have gotten together to share their answers. The problem is that those answers are the same ones that they have had for years and years and years. Maybe things shouldn't start with answers, but with questions.
Where to begin? We begin by asking the right questions in the places that we are. We begin by not shying away -- but by jumping right into the tough questions. Because if we don't ask them, they certainly won't be asked anywhere else. Let's do it. And feel good about it. It is our gift.
Talk about these things. If need be -- go sit with family members, friends and neighbors of those who have died. Listen to their stories, and their grief. Pray together. Hold hands. Listen. Something will come. Something will arise. And I'mm pretty sure that what won't arise is glib answers like "mentoring programs" or "community centers" -- but instead, if we listen closely, we can recognize the blessings that God has around us not only this minute, but each and every minute. And if we pay attention I think we can begin to see the mentors that are already there and we can find ways to support, encourage and pray for them. And that will begin to make more of a difference than we can imagine.
posted by Mike Mather at 9:33 PM
4 Comments:
Dear Mike,
Thanks for reminding me to look for the blessings that are already there and abundant in my life. It's great to have you back!
Beth
Surely Andre and other homicide victims mean a lot more to their family and friends than these reports relate. I hate it when the thing someone like Andre ends up being most known for in our city is his homicide statistic-a tiny word ghost jangling confusion and judgement over someone's morning coffee. Is there a rule that says memories of people like Andre have to be dehumanized in order to be meaningful?
What you wrote, Troy, is at the heart of everything I think. How can we see each other more clearly? Because buried in that answer is something about how we can really enjoyance the great abundance of this life...we seem to prefer it out of a bottle or in a car or in a reality tv show -- but not in the real life of one another. Thanks...
mike
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