This year, instead of sending the same email over and over, I decided to put the links I usually send on a webpage, so that I can just direct worship teams and ministers to this page.  If you have questions, you can reply to this message and I will do my best to respond.

Here are some of my sermons and writings around Memorial Day and Veteran’s Day:

Sermons:

They Just Fade Away: Veteran’s Day

The Soldier and the Preacher: Memorial Day

Silent Tears: The Faith of Memorial Day

Embedded War

Decoration Day

Beyond Military Borders

Articles:

Soldiers and War Memorials

It’s Time we Studied War

About the UU Worship Service at the Great Lakes Naval Station

Memorials in the Rain

War Changes Us All

How Can You Come Home When You Are Homeless?

Generations of Veterans

How to Listen to Me, A Veteran

My Reticence to Support UU Congregational Outreach to Veterans

Heroic Repression

In Uniform at General Assembly

Yours in faith,

Rev. David

(Part 1 of Sermon “Trauma and Transformation” with the Rev. Jan Christian at the Unitarian Universalist Church of Ventura on Sunday, November 11th, 2012)

When I came home from Bosnia, a VA psychologist gave me two books to read… books that have since become part of what I think of as scripture.  At first, I thought he was crazy.  It was not a text on what happens to the brain during trauma, or a modern story of a soldier from a war.  No, these books were far more ancient, mythological, and eternally true.  And it helped me to recognize that I was no longer the person I was when I went off to war… and I never would be again.

You may have heard of these books, and some of you may even have read them.  They are by a guy named Homer, and we call them the Iliad and the Odyssey.  Particularly, I saw my life, my coming home, in the story of Odysseus, the warrior-king (I always had high ambitions), who after leaving the battle field faced seduction away from cares and from life, faced seeming insoluble emotional dilemmas, faced physical and spiritual threats, only to arrive home and find that everything he thought he knew, everything he had imagined had changed.

There is this perception that happens with soldiers… I’ve seen it both in myself and in the countless soldiers and their families that I have counseled during these wars our nation has chosen to fight… and that is a perception of timelessness.  A perception of time, cut out of time.  A perception that, no matter what they might have seen or how they might have changed, and no one faces the traumatic experience of war without being changed, no matter how they might have changed, they perceive that things at home will remain exactly as they were when the soldier left.  I’ve come to believe that this illusion is so prevalent because while a soldier is going through the whirlwind of personal transformation, they need something, anything in their lives to remain the same… and so they build up an image, and idol of a home life that will be “just as it was when they left”.

I mention this, because I think it is one of the least understood aspects of the transformative power of conflict and war… and it is an issue I face every time I lead workshops for military families on coming home from war, as I did last weekend in Illinois.  War changes us all… not just the soldier, but the soldier’s family, all of their friends, and, I believe, the entire society.  War changes us all.

In Homer’s epic tale, Odysseus knows that he is changing, transforming, as he faces Gods and giants and sea serpents…  His shock is when he comes home to find that all that he had fought to come home to was also transformed.  War does not just change the soldier… War changes us all.  We are all transformed from who we were the day the first American boots landed on the soil of Afghanistan.

Yours in Faith,

Rev. David

I sat in horror as my some of my more conservative Christian colleagues role-played how they would respond to this young woman.  One began asking her to detail her “sins” and ask the Lord for forgiveness.  Another began questioning her on how she was dressed, and why she was out so late.  Another went the direction of telling her that, no matter how horrible the rape was, it was all part of God’s plan and that she had to put her trust in the Lord.

After five or six of my colleagues had responded to the instructor along this theme, I found myself standing up without being called on, and answering the question completely out of turn.

“The God that I know would never, never, never punish any conceivable sin with rape.”

There are reasons that I am no longer a Southern Baptist, and they are not social or political reasons.  They are theological.  While I will defend to the death their right to be wrong, I came to the belief that the theological premises of conservative and fundamentalist Christianity are not only damaging, but wrong.  These theological errors lead people away from the compassion that I believe was at the heart of the message of that poor carpenter from a little village in Galilee.

And, for people who do hold these theological doctrines to be true, the positions they take that are anathema to the compassion I am called to are not negotiable… they come directly from this absolute theological commitment to the Omniscience and Omnipotence of God.

If you hold an absolute belief in the Omniscience and Omnipotence of God, then you cede all human volition.  We might have the illusion of free will, but it is just that… an illusion.  All we think and do has been planned from the beginning of time.  In the short term, it can indeed be comforting to many people to believe that everything that happens is part of God’s plan.  As a Hospital Chaplain, I would see people reach for this comfort time and again.  In the long run, however, this is one of the most disempowering theological ideas of all time.  It takes away from human beings not only their own agency, their own ability to control their lives, but it also gives them an excuse for the behavior of themselves or others.  “It will all work out in the end, it is God’s plan”.  “I can’t believe they did this to me, but it must be part of God’s Plan”.  “I don’t know what it means, but God must have a plan for me.”

If we hold that theology, then we lose the ability to truly question and challenge the things that happen to us.  We lose the power to cry for justice, even to the Lord.  If you are poor, it is God’s plan.  If you are rich, it is God’s plan.  If you have cancer, it is God’s plan.  If your spouse wants a divorce, it is God’s plan.  If you run for Senate, it is God’s Plan.  The script was set at the beginning of time, and we are merely players in God’s grand performance.  Our sins and our righteousness are pre-determined.  We can’t know the plan… but whatever happens, it was God’s intent.  Who are you to cry out against God’s Plan?

If you believe this theological doctrine of the Omniscience and Omnipotence of God, then you have to believe that when someone is raped, it was part of God’s Plan, because everything is part of God’s Plan.  Satan is part of God’s Plan.  Evil is part of God’s Plan.  All has been written at the beginning of time.  God is never thwarted… how could he be?  He is all powerful and all knowing.  So when evil happens, it is part of God’s Plan.

That is why it makes sense, if you truly believe in the Omniscience and Omnipotence of God, for a politician to describe rape as “just another method of conception.”  This is why some people believe there should be absolutely no instances in which abortion should be legal, because if someone is raped, God foresaw and intended that to occur.  If the pregnancy will cost the mother her life, then the mother’s death is part of God’s plan.  If the sin of incest occurred, that is also part of God’s Plan.  The fetus is a part of God’s Plan.  Even this debate over these issues is part of God’s Plan.  And God will always win in the end… so whatever happens or whatever we do, no matter how horrible of uncompassionate it seems, is justified by God’s eventual victory.

I think the first step away from conservative Christianity for me was realizing that I no longer could accept the Omniscience and Omnipotence of God.  I think that most conservative Christians have not taken the absolute belief in these theologies to their logical conclusions… but many have taken them far enough to justify their own ends, consciously or unconsciously.  I am reminded of the Catholic Priest who told me of the day he realized that the God he believed in seemed to hate all the same people he did…

I do still believe in God’s Omnipresence… that God is in every space, in every moment, all the time.  But God is not a being that is controlling or perceiving of all that has occurred… God simply is all that is occurring, in the moment.  Each moment, as it unfolds across all of time and space is God developing…

So, some of the statements that have sparked a firestorm during this election campaign about rape and abortion come from a deeply rooted and committed theology in the Omniscience and Omnipotence of God.  We should not be surprised when believers in this theology attempt to legislate it… we should simply not give them the opportunity to do so.

Yours in faith,

Rev. David

Now, I’m going to say a few things in this article that might ruffle some feathers on both the right and the left of the political spectrum.  I know that from the outset, and that is part of why I have not written this article before.  But as we have violent protests and attacks on U.S. Embassy compounds across North Africa and the Middle East, I think it is time that we have a conversation about what freedom means.  As both candidates for the office of the President are running around making vague and confusing comments on the meaning of freedom, I think we need to seek some clarity on what freedom means in the society and polity of the United States.

So, I’m going to make the four statements of my thesis, and then talk about their ramifications.

1.  Freedom can only exist where it is paired with responsibility.  Individual freedom can only exist where it is paired with individual responsibility.  Cultural freedom can only exist where it is paired with cultural responsibility.  Freedom without paired responsibility is not freedom, it is anarchy.
2. Freedom as it is understood in the polity of the United States is freedom from unnecessary government intrusion.  The U.S. concept of freedom does not apply to any other part of our lives except for the relationship between the people and their government, and is not absolute even in those relationships.
3. Freedom only has meaning when it is practiced in community.  To be free and alone is simply to be alone.
4. All freedom has limits.  Those limits are set in two ways: where one person’s freedom abuts another person’s freedom, and where a person or group’s freedom abrogates their responsibility.

What this means is that in the political and cultural system of the United States, there is no such thing as absolute freedom.  There are limits, both governmental and cultural, upon all of our freedom.  Those limits are not only necessary, but beneficial to our having a society that allows us any freedom at all.

I think that we, the people of the United States, have forgotten these aspects of freedom… and that is part of the explanation for what is happening in the riots in Cairo, Yemen, and a few other places in North Africa and the Middle East (not in Benghazi Libya, however, for that appears to have been a coordinated Al Qaida inspired terrorist attack).

We cannot have freedom of speech in this country if people are not held responsible and accountable for the results of that speech.  You cannot shout “Fire!” in a crowded theatre… and you should not be able to publish hateful, vindictive propaganda about Islam without facing severe and significant consequences.

We cannot have religious freedom in this country, unless people are held responsible and accountable for how the use of that freedom affects the lives of those who encounter it.

We cannot have freedom of the press in this country, unless members of the press are held responsible and accountable for the accuracy and effect of their reporting.

We cannot have personal freedom in this country, unless individuals are held personally responsible and accountable for their use of that freedom.

We cannot have the right of free association in this country, unless the groups thus formed are held responsible and accountable for their actions and behavior.

For the freedoms we have, we must pay a price, and that price is personal and associational responsibility and accountability.  Our society must hold people and groups accountable for the way they use the freedom of speech.  Our society must hold people accountable for their use of the freedom of religion.  Our society must hold people accountable for their use of the freedom of association.  Our society must hold people accountable for their use of the freedom of the press.  And it is not the Government that should do this accounting, but all of us.  Together.

For freedom in the United States does not, and cannot mean a freedom from consequences.

Yours in faith,

Rev. David

President Obama is not a Liberal Socialist who believes that capitalism is inherently unjust… that would be me.

President Obama is not a dangerous globalist who wants to dismantle the myth of American Exceptionalism… that would be me.

President Obama is not a “Robin Hood” who wants to re-distribute money from the wealthy to the poor… that would be me.

President Obama is not a radical egalitarian who believes that it is the government’s role to make sure that all people have an equality of opportunity and equality before the law… that would be me.

President Obama is not a radical peacenik who believes that if we are going to have a military, it should primarily be used to create the conditions for peace… that would be me.

President Obama is not a Religious Liberal who believes that there is truth and wisdom to be found in almost every religious tradition… that would be me.

President Obama does not believe that the profit motive has ingrained greed as the primary value of our capitalist society… that would be me.

President Obama does not believe in a radical government takeover of the entire healthcare system, moving beyond single payer to a National Health Service… that would be me.

President Obama does not want to take away all of your guns… that would be me.

President Obama does not want to build a world government… that would be me.

President Obama does not believe that the Iraq War was caused by corporations who wanted to increase their profits with lucrative government contracts… that would be me.

President Obama does not believe that all state sponsored college education should be tuition free… that would be me.

President Obama does not believe that the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank are being used as Friedmanite economic scams on developing countries… that would be me.

President Obama does not want to reinstate the draft… that would be me.

A few short years ago, President Obama would have been thought of as a Republican-leaning moderate.  Now, the rhetoric is that he is a crazy Liberal Socialist… and I, as an actual crazy Liberal Socialist am more  than moderately offended.  Now, unlike many of my friends on the left, I have never been confused about President Obama’s moderate Republicanism, so I have not suffered the disappointment that many others have.  As far as I can tell, President Obama has been exactly the kind of President he told us he would be… a Keynesian economics war hawk with a predilection for equality and a moderate stand on civil liberties.  Not what I would ideally want in an occupant of the Oval Office, but considering the options…

And that is the point… I’m not trying to say anything bad about President Obama… I’m just tired of people confusing him for a Liberal Socialist.  It demeans what it means to be a Liberal Socialist.

For that would be me…

Yours in Faith,

Rev. David

I now have enough distance from it, I think, that I can begin reflecting on the transition that ordination was in my life.  Other than now being allowed to wear a stole while I am in the pulpit, and have people call me “Rev. David”, I remember thinking in the weeks afterward that ordination was not as big a change as it might have seemed.  Over the last two years though, I’ve had to revise that initial opinion.

There are several ways the change of ordination has manifested itself.  Let me go to the unexpected first…

I have not always been an ordained minister.  I have not always known that I would become a minister.  At other times in my life I have had other identities (soldier, stage-hand, events coordinator, college student, etc.) and much of my behavior was appropriate (and not all that bad) for those other identities.  I did some of the things that young soldiers do, especially when they are overseas.  I did some of the things that young college students do.  I did some of the things that stage-hands and event coordinators do, especially when on the road.  None of this was terribly bad… although I had a lot of romantic relationships and was not always the nicest guy in how they ended… but I was not (yet) a minister, and so did not behave as a minister does.

So, when someone from my past (often a previous romantic interest) re-encounters me now either in person or through something like Facebook, the reaction to my now being an ordained minister is often incredulous.  One recent message began with the words “REALLY?!?  ARE YOU SERIOUS!?!” after reading the profile that said my occupation was ordained minister.

I might say it would be easier if we ministers, especially those of us from a liberal faith, did not have a life before we entered the ministry, but I would not mean it.  Much of what makes me a good minister now comes from those years before ministry was even a thought in my mind, much less a call in my heart.  If I had not loved, lost, loved, and then been a jerk, I don’t know where I would have the experience to do pastoral care.  If I had not lost jobs, or worked in fields I did not like, I do not know where I would have gained the awareness to do pastoral care.  If I had not made my own bad decisions and found a way to recover from them, I do not know where I would have any wisdom to offer in pastoral care.

So, the transition I’ve come to see since my ordination has in part been through the eyes of others.  For me, it was a long, gradual process… and so the transition from who I was then to who I am now is difficult for me to see.  I lived it, and so it is difficult for me to notice.  It has taken two years of “ARE YOU SERIOUS!?!” for me to see my transition since ordination though the eyes of others.

The other transition that has happened for me with ordination was one of responsibility.  My responsibility.  Let me tell a quick story.

When I was a hospital chaplain resident, I made a big mistake.  Actually, it was a series of little mistakes that created one big one.  I loved building pastoral relationships with my patients.  I loved visiting my hospice patients, and being in the Emergency Room at the hospital with my families.  I even loved discussing life, emotions, and ministry with my Resident Group about 15 hours a week.  What I did not like was charting.

I hated charting.  How do you chart a deep emotional conversation about death, while still maintaining pastoral confidentiality?  How do you turn ministry into a series of interventions that you can check off a list.  While I loved hospital and hospice chaplaincy, it could be said that the medical need for charting is why I’m back serving in churches and not in a hospital somewhere.

And so, in the time pressure of the Residency, there was never enough time to do everything.  I would look at my list of what had to happen that day, and doing my charting would find its way to the bottom of the list.  I’d rather visit with patients (creating more need for charting).  And so, after about two weeks of this, my charts were so out-of-whack that I got called into the Pastoral Care Directors office for a “talkin’ to”.

I knew I was in the wrong, and said so as soon as the meeting started.  We talked about it, and came up with a plan to fix it, and to make sure we did not have this happen again.  Near the end of the conversation I commented that “I was in less trouble over it than I thought I would be,” to which he responded “Well, you are still a student… if you were one of my staff chaplains I might have fired you over this.”

I think this has been the greatest transition for me since ordination…  and that is realizing that I am no longer a student.  I am the minister.  The responsibility is really mine.  When something happens that should not have happened, or does not happen that should have, it is my responsibility.  I’ve owned that kind of responsibility before, I was a Sergeant in the military afterall… but seminary gives you all kinds of opportunities to learn by making mistakes, and the consequences and responsibilities are far less than they are post-ordination.  This is not just a responsibility for the large not-for-profit organization we call a church, but also and perhaps more importantly for the fragile spirits and souls that are placed in our care.

This transition has been on my heart since yesterday.  After church yesterday I wanted something fun to do, and so I reached back into my pre-seminary, pre-ordination past.  I went to a local Park to watch a Fighter Practice of the local Society for Creative Anachronism group.  Many of those past relationships and other behavior center around my years in the SCA… and so it was a moment of remembering for me.  I have no guilts, and only a few regrets about those years… and it was a moment to realize that I really am an ordained minister, even when no one around knows that.

It was a good realization.

Yours in faith,

Rev. David

This time, due to the generosity and love of two members of our congregation who loaned us a car for a month or so, we had the time to explore, and to decide what was the right car for us.  We did a lot of online research.  I stopped by the side of the road and wrote down phone numbers for cars with “For Sale” signs in the windows.  I have never in my life bought a new car, and so I began the process convinced that we would be buying another used vehicle.  If I wanted to be fancy, I would buy my used car from a dealership…

As we moved into the process, I realized that there was a new factor in our decision… I was serving a congregation, and not as an Interim Minister.  There are a few big decisions in our lives where we have the opportunity to show our values, and for a preacher who has been preaching those values to a particular congregation, you better believe that said congregation is paying attention to how the minister lives the values they have been preaching.  Whereas before I might like to think that I would make a choice based upon my values, there is a new valance in the decision knowing that over 200 sets of eyes will also be evaluating my choice of automobile…

And believe you me… I was lobbied by the Prius faction in the congregation…

As our research continued, I began to fall in love with a vehicle that surprised not only my family and friends, but myself.  On a whim one evening, I found myself perusing the Smart Car website.  The price and the gas mileage might have been the spark of initial curiosity.  That it is sold in the U.S. by Mercedes (and backed by their maintenance program) was also interesting.  By the time I found out that it operates in both automatic transmission (for Sandy) and manual transmission (for me), I knew I had found our car.  The test drive confirmed it.  I was sold.  Sandy was sold.  In fact, during the week, Sandy loves it so much she drives it most days…  Not because I don’t love the Smart Car, ( I certainly do) but because I love her so much I want her to drive our best car.

So, in May Sandy and I leased a 2013 Smart Passion Coup.  In a few years, they are coming out with a four door version, and at that point we might just become an “all Smart Car” family.

Congregants were fascinated by it (as well they should be).  Several Sundays in a row I had informal “meet the Minister’s Smart Car” gatherings in the parking lot, where I gave a tour of the rear mounted engine, the traction and stability control, the 8 airbags, the racing roll cage… and where each of them sat in it and realized what I did… it really feels much bigger on the inside than it looks on the outside.  Sandy and I have nicknamed ours “the Tardis”.  We are jokingly considering having a new set of panels made for it so that it will look like a blue British policebox…

“Yes, it drives fine on the highway… I’ve had it up to 90 mph, but don’t tell anyone.”

“I know I’m a pretty big guy, but I fit in it just fine.”

“It has plenty of cargo space, so long as you are not trying to use it to move.”

“No, there is no place for a child’s seat… but we don’t have kids, you see.”

“It has so many safety features it is probably safer to drive than your car.”

Etc…  not only have I answered these questions in the gatherings in the church parking lot, but in just about any parking lot that I’ve taken it to, as the Smart Car is about the best new way to meet people I have ever found.  People run across parking lots to ask questions.  They roll down their windows and yell questions across lanes of traffic at lights.  They follow me into stores to ask questions.  While that has been wonderful for my extroverted self, it has taken a bit of adaptation for my introverted wife…

And that is what I really want to write about in this article… the fact that driving a Smart Car has led to some interesting observations about humanity.  I have always been a student of humanity, and if I had known from the outset that the Smart Car would be a window into that study, we’d have had one years ago.

Here are a few of the observations about humanity that I’d like to share:

1.  People in sports cars really do not like being passed by a Smart Car.  It is as if the smallest guy at the gym just lifted more weight than the dedicated weight lifter.  I passed a Porsche on the 101 Freeway a few weeks ago, and the next thing I knew he was in the fast lane blowing past me at about 95 mph, glaring.  He glared at me so much he did not see the California Highway Patrol officer that he soon had an intimate conversation with.  So, the Smart Car is good for bringing people together.
2. People in extra-large SUV’s (such as the Ford Expedition or the Hummer) seem morally offended that the Smart Car even exists.  They show that moral outrage by driving as aggressively as possible whenever they are within a block of said Smart Car.  At first I thought this was just my imagination… that sharing a lane with such a large vehicle makes it seem that the drivers of larger vehicles were driving aggressively, but that was until I noticed the glares and the occasional finger gestures that come from the driver’s windows of said cars.  So, I have a message for you large vehicle drivers out there… just because you paid a lot more in sales taxes when you bought your behemoth, and just because you pay so much more in gasoline taxes to keep your behemoth on the road, that does not mean you own the road anymore than I do.  I’m just “Smart”er than you are, and it is time you just accept it.
3. Smart Car drivers flash their lights at one another when they pass… you just won’t understand until you are in the club.  Instant Solidarity!
4. Driving a Smart Car is as close as I will ever come to being a celebrity.  Everywhere I go, people take pictures.  They come up and ask if they can sit in it.  They follow me into stores.  I drove onto the Army Reserve Center where my unit drills, and it was amazing to watch all eyes in a formation of soldiers track my car like I was a General Officer arriving for a surprise inspection.  At traffic lights, drivers around me are late for the green light because they are looking at the Smart Car, not watching the road.  I’ve always wondered what it might be like to drive a Tesla, or a Noble, or any of the other SuperCars… now I know.
5. Mixing the Smart Car with other parts of my identity can be hard for people to do.  I pulled into a gas station on the Pacific Coast Highway to get a soda (I didn’t need gas, you see).  I was headed home from a weekend drill, and so I was in my Army Combat Uniform (digital camouflage).  The sight of a fairly big soldier getting out of a Smart Car led about half of the people filling up their cars to fall down laughing, and the others just to stare, unable to compute.  I just smiled and went in to get my Cream Soda.
6. There are cultural differences around how people react the Smart Car.  Let me say first that I live in a majority Latino neighborhood.  As the primary industry of Ventura County is agriculture, many of my neighbors work year round in farming.  I have been fascinated by how many of the men of my apartment complex at first react with a bit of machismo around a guy driving such a small car… and then when we talk about it and I show them around the Smart Car, they love it.  One told his friend “I’d rather drive this than have to ride with you all the time!”
7. Children of all cultures love the Smart Car.  We have a lot of children where we live, and the Smart Car was an instant celebrity.  First time we drove it home, we gathered a crowd.  I have to keep telling them “No, it is a real car, so you can’t drive one till you are sixteen”.
8. People are most amazed by how much cargo you can get in the Smart Car.  Every time we go to the grocery store, we end up with a small crowd of onlookers as we put a week’s worth of groceries in the back.  Once, we went to the pet store, and bought a new scratch-post for our cat, a new water fountain, a big bag of kitty litter.  We already had bags and boxes from several stores in the back, which we took out so we could re-arrange.  As Sandy and I fit everything we had bought into the back, and even had room to spare, we received a small round of applause from the onlookers.  Now I understand Olympic Athletes a bit better.  There is some human desire to see someone accomplish the seemingly impossible.
9. We human beings cling to our preconceptions and perceptions.  I remember a guy who came over to me at a gas station on base (I do occasionally have to put gas in the Smart Car).  His stated position was to prove I was an idiot for driving a Smart Car.  He first said that it wasn’t a real car because it couldn’t drive on the highway, to which I said it certainly can, I drove it on the highway to get there.  He then said it had to be unsafe, at which point I showed him the 8 airbags, the high-tension steel roll cage, and the traction and stability control.  He then said it was too small for a big guy to be comfortable in, to which I pointed out I had at least 2 inches on him in every direction, and I had leg-room to spare.  As he went away grumbling about it being a “dumb” car and not a Smart Car, I was reminded of all the conversations I’ve had on the meaning of scripture with some conservative Christians, and sighed.
10. The last observation is one about me… I had forgotten that driving can be fun.  Driving has always been a chore for me, an ends to a means.  I drive to get places.  I’ve always found people who drive for pleasure to be a bit odd.  Not anymore.  I love driving the Smart Car.  I could not define why, it is just fun.  And, anything that adds a bit more fun in my life is something I’ve realized I need.

There are many other observations, but in short what I think the Smart Car has done for me is to change my position and perspective.  Like standing on top of the table and looking again at a room you’ve spent hours in, it has brought me to see the world around me a bit differently, and for that I am truly thankful and blessed.

Yours in Faith,

Rev. David

A man once said, “I believe, but help my unbelief”.

I’m not sure I ever understood, until I myself had to cry out to you,

Is this really where we are, oh Lord.

Are we really as far from the Kingdom of God as it sometimes seems?

It is hard for me to believe that after all the work,

All the faith by so many,

All the sacrifice and pain,

All the growth and transformation,

All the ways in which I have seen humanity be its better self,

That we are still keeping captives based on profit and skin color.

It is hard for me to believe that after Jesus called us to renounce wealth,

We have built a society based upon turning money into an idol.

It is hard for me to believe that after all the words of Christ

Against the hypocrisy of the Scribes and Pharisees,

those who claim to be his messengers today,

Are often Scribes and Pharisees themselves.

Our churches are becoming more corporations than covenanted communities of faith,

Our nation is becoming more Roman than even the Romans were..

After all of the prophets, and all of the people crying out for Justice,

I have to ask, my heart has to cry out Lord,

Is this really where we are?

Are we really still such a tribal people?

It is hard not to give up.

As I stood outside a tent-city jail in a hot and dusty land,

Crying for the Captives to go Free,

And remembering that Jesus too was a captive

Held by an oppressive state and religious leaders,

My heart has to cry out…  Is this really where we are?

Thousands of years of sacrifice and pain, of witness and the prophetic,

And we are still fighting for equal treatment for all,

We are still speaking for the least among us,

For the inheritance of the poor and the meek,

For the justice that rolls down like waters,

And peace like and ever flowing stream.

Lord, I believe, but help my unbelief…

Is this where we are?

Will we never come out of the desert of racism, of oppression,

Of the idol of wealth, of misogyny, of hatred, of fear.

And into the Canaan of Beloved Community,

That Jesus called the Kingdom of God…

And if this is where we are, oh Lord,

Then where will I find the strength to stay on the road,

And not to just throw up my hands and give over the work?

To say that humanity can never be Beloved,

That we can never be the Kingdom of God…

But Jesus said it is coming, and so I return to the work,

For the faith is that we must bring about the Kingdom…

We Lord, you and I…

For if this truly is where we are, we cannot stay here.

This Lament was a homework assignment, written as a part of a Christian-Centered Spiritual Retreat I have been on with a group of military chaplain colleagues, many far more conservative than I.  We were invited to write a lament in the tradition of the Psalmist from the Hebrew Scriptures, to express something that has been weighing on our hearts.  As I moved into the project, I felt not only moved by the Spirit, but also influenced by the writings of Dr. King in the Birmingham Jail, and by my own experience recently Standing on the Side of Love outside the “Tent-City” Jail in Maricopa County, Arizona.  And as the Psalmist shared his lament, it is only right that I do as well. 

Yours in faith,

Rev. David

I have received multiple requests for copies of the homily that I presented at the UUA Pacific Southwest District Assembly this year, and instead of continuing to email it out, I thought I would publish it here at Celestial Lands.  The task was to reflect on what “Beyond Borders” meant to me and my ministry”.  It was an honor to be asked to preach, as one of the new ministers to the District. 

One of my first forays into District lay-leadership after I became a Unitarian Universalist was to an event celebrating the kickoff of a campaign of billboards and radio advertisements for Unitarian Universalism, being sponsored by the UU Congregations of the Greater Houston area.  The keynote speaker was Rev. Bill Sinkford, then the president of the UUA.  I had just been accepted to seminary, and had just begun to imagine what ministry might mean for me.

After the speech that Rev. Sinkford gave, the group formed a receiving line, so that everyone could get a chance to meet him.  When it came time to introduce myself, I told him that my name was David Pyle, and that I had just been accepted to seminary.

That was when one of my friends and fellow lay-leaders from our congregation on Galveston Island said “What he’s not telling you is that David is thinking about becoming a military chaplain.”

The crowd immediately around us became silent.

Then, Rev. Sinkford’s eyes began to tear up, and he took my hand.  He told me that only a few weeks before, his son had written him from where he was serving as a U.S. Army Ranger in Afghanistan.  His son had written him asking why it was that every other soldier he knew could find a chaplain from his or her faith tradition… everyone except young Billy Sinkford.

The letter said “I need a chaplain dad… and I don’t have one”.

As I walked back to my table, still in the intensity of that story a young woman stepped in front of me.  I do not remember much else about her, other than the large peace symbol that she wore around her neck.

She said, in a loud voice, “I don’t see how you can call yourself a UU and be willing to serve in the military”.

I was asked to reflect on what borders I have crossed in my life and in my ministry.  Traveling around the world for the military I’ve crossed a lot of borders.  I grew up an Army brat, and lived overseas before I was 8 years old.  I joined the Army at 18, and served in 5 foreign countries by the time I was 24.  I was one of the first members of my family from the Tennessee hills to earn a bachelor’s degree.  I left the world of National Security and Intelligence when my conscience would no longer allow me to do that work, and found my way from Intelligence Analyst to peace activist.  And yet, with all of that, I think the most difficult border I have crossed is one I now have to cross on a regular, sometimes daily basis… and that is the border between Unitarian Universalism and the young women and men and the families of the U.S. Military.

I am a reserve military chaplain, one of only 8 Unitarian Universalist Ministers serving as military chaplains in the Reserves, National Guard, or on Active Duty, including Chaplain Seanan Holland, a UU Minister of our District currently serving as a Chaplain with the Marines in Afghanistan.

At the moment, I am the only UU minister serving both in the military, and in full-time congregational ministry, as the Assistant minister for our congregation in Ventura, California.  I love our congregations… my first love in ministry was with lay-led fellowships.  I have met many military veterans in the over 40 congregations I’ve had the privilege to preach in, many of whom had never felt that it was safe to tell their congregations the stories of their military service, for fear that they would no longer be accepted within our faith.

“How can you be a UU and be willing to serve in the military”she asked me…

In my military ministry, with the 349^th Combat Support Hospital in Bell, California, I serve a far more young adult and multi-cultural ministry than I have found within Unitarian Universalism.  The majority of my soldiers are people of color.  My Hospital Commander is a Latina woman.  My Company Commander is an African American woman.  Many of my soldiers are Asian American, African American, Hispanic or Latino, European American, Indian American, and a few with Native American ancestry, such as myself.  A few are not yet Americans, as serving in the U.S. military is one way that people seek to earn U.S. Citizenship.

I minister with people who are Baptist, Evangelical, Buddhist, Spiritual but not religious, Jewish, Catholic… just about every religious faith you can imagine.  I even have one devotee of the Flying Spaghetti Monster…

He loved that I knew what he was talking about, and showed me his dogtags that say “FSM” in the line for Religious Preference.

I have soldiers who are straight, and soldiers who are just now exploring how safe it is to be public about being Lesbian, Gay, or Bisexual.

When I am ending my ministerial career hopefully some 25 years from now, one of the things I will be most proud of is the minor role I was able to play in implementing the repeal of Don’t Ask, Don’t tell, and being able to sign an official copy of the repeal “Chaplain David Pyle”.  Crossing borders will sometimes allow a person of our faith to be in the right place, at the right time, in order to make a difference in larger events.

And yet, when my soldiers ask me what faith, what denomination I am ordained by, I have to admit to you I am often hesitant to tell them.  Not because I’m worried about what they may think about Unitarian Universalism… quite frankly most of them have no idea who we are.  No, what worries me is that my soldiers, having built relationship with me, will then go and visit a Unitarian Universalist church that is not yet ready to welcome them… not yet ready step away from some of our own pre-conceptions and meet them not as their uniforms… but as the people within them.  Not yet ready to know how to welcome and be sensitive to their families.

Just as there are closeted veterans within our churches, there are closeted Unitarian Universalists within the military.  I meet them all the time, and in almost every case it is a story similar to mine.  On a Sunday morning when they were visiting one of our churches, during coffee hour, or in conversation before worship, someone finds out about their military service and challenges their right to be within our faith community.  I had the blessing of already being within a loving, welcoming community when it happened to me.  For these soldiers, sailors, airmen, guardians and marines and their families… they simply leave and never come back.

I am saying this to you today, because I do not believe that this experience of our faith is one that relates to the military alone.  We have borders around the faith of Unitarian Universalism.  I’m not going to recite all of them… I believe most of you know what borders are around our faith just as well as I do.  In order to take down those borders, we have to do the work of understanding our own pre-conceptions and prejudices, and of learning the meaning of Radical Hospitality.  The kind of hospitality and welcoming that steps beyond our own fears and needs, if just for a moment, in order to welcome someone, anyone, in the fullness of who they are.

That is hard, hard work.  Let me tell you why it is important, at least in relationship to the military.  If there is anywhere in this world that I pray for more people who believe in the inherent worth and dignity of every person it is in the military and on the battlefield.

If there is anywhere in this world that I pray for more people who believe in the right of conscience it is in the military, and on the battlefield.

If there is anywhere in this world that I pray for more people who see that we are all connected in an interdependent web… that every action that is taken affects everyone else and everything else around us… I pray for those people to be in the military, and on the battlefield.

If we are going to have soldiers, if we are going to give that kind of power and responsibility to anyone… then I would rather that as many of those people as possible be Unitarian Universalists.  Not because I want to grow our faith… but because I want to save the world.  And part of that is making sure that, as long as we have a military, that it be as in tune with the values and principles of Unitarian Universalism as I, as we, can make it.   So may it be… Amen.

In a book I just finished, the United States of America has become nearly irrelevant in world politics and society, even while holding to itself an image of American Exceptionalism.  The theory is this… that the more the U.S.A. clings to its concept of being an exceptional nation… a nation set above or better than other nations, the more it actually reduces its significance in the world.

The more we “rest on our laurels” of academic and technological achievement, the faster developing nations will pass us by, both academically and technologically.

The more we resort to military force (or the threat of military force) to achieve diplomatic aims, the more nations will view us more as a threat and not a benefit, and will isolate us.

The more wealth and economic power we move overseas, the less wealth and economic power will be identified as a part of the “exceptional” nature of the United States.

The “heavier” we are diplomatically, the more nations will realize that they are not as dependent upon the good-will of the U.S.A. as they once were.

I could go on, but I think you get the point.  Even we liberals get caught up in a brand of American Exceptionalism… a kind of smug paternalism that says that other nations will not thrive or grow unless we are there to “assist” them… and bring with us all of our preconceptions and often colonial attitudes to that “assistance”.

I’ve written about the dangers of American Exceptionalism before, but never in terms of generating our own irrelevance.  I’ve written about our hubris in believing that the meaning of all world events is found in the relationship of the U.S. to that event.  What I’ve been pondering of late is how this sense of American Exceptionalism is leading our nation to greater and greater irrelevance in the world.

Perhaps it is time for us, as a nation, to realize we are not as special, not as exceptional as we think we are.  Perhaps it is time for us to realize that other people in other nations around the world have as great, and often longer histories than we do.  Perhaps it is time to realize that people in other nations have dreams, ideals, and values that are of no less importance than our own.  Perhaps it is time for us to acknowledge that there is no inherent cultural superiority to the U.S.A.

Perhaps it is time for the United States of America to learn some humility.

Whenever I think of American Exceptionalism, I think of the speech given by Ronald Reagan where he talked about the “City on the Hill”, paraphrasing the Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount (though second-hand, through John Winthrop).  Perhaps it is time we realize that Reagan got the scripture wrong.  He misunderstood what Jesus said.  The metaphor of the City on the Hill was not about that city being exceptional in its own right.  It was about the need for the city that all can see to behave in a way that inspires all of human kind.  What would make such a city exceptional was not what it was, or who founded it, or whatever ideals they might have…

It was how they behaved…

2 Then he began to speak, and taught them, saying: 3 “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. 4 “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. 5 “Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. 6 “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. 7 “Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy. 8 “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. 9 “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. 10 “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. 11 “Blessed are you when people revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. 12 Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you. 13 “You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled under foot. 14 “You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid.  (Matthew 5, NRSV)

Yours in Faith,

Rev. David