Blessing in the Bullhorns

I missed the NC Gay Pride Festival this year. That was unusual for me since
I consider that to be one of our most significant evangelism events. For years
we have been handing out water bottles wrapped in rainbows and an invitation to
worship with us at Calvary. Open Hearts. Open Minds. Open Doors. Or so the
denominational slogan goes. We are the people of The United Methodist Church.
After the parade recedes from the hot pavement, we retreat to our display table
where we enjoy conversation with passers-by. It's a lovely way to stay in touch
with the world, to discover again the Message so desperately desired by those
outside the church walls.

It was regrettable that I missed all the frivolity here in the Bull City . But worse, it was the first time I recall antagonists showing up with Bibles and bullhorns to bully our faithful outreachers. The pastoral hormones run rampant within me when I think of my lambs being abused yet again by belligerent Bible-thumpers. Too often have they been traumatized by such misguided zeal. I wince to imagine those blaring words of condemnation. So un-Jesus-like.

But maybe I worried overmuch. The church was still the church when the shepherd was away. Didn't the motherbear-of-a-lesbian take on the taunters and scatter them? Didn't the long-married-grandmother who had found her voice speak the truth in love?
Didn't the spunky 15-year-old recently adopted by two moms stand strong with her
gay-straight alliance friends and lead them in singing "Jesus loves me. This I
know for the Bible tells me so!" And didn't the students silently intersperse
themselves among the placard-bearing barkers lining the road to dilute their
raucous racket?

Non-violence well-lived. Christians at work, helping God to heal the world.

Here Phillip Shoe gives testimony. Wish I had been there to witness it!

Recently, many of our members were approached by a group of Christians opposed to our understandings of God and Grace. Their tactics were varied. Some subtly asked questions, all the while becoming stronger and stronger in their challenges to our theology. Others were not so “polite.” They turned to shouts and bullhorns. “God can save you. God can change you!” Those words still ring in the ear. They still ache in the heart.

Fear. Anxiety. Wounds ripped open. Salt poured in. Blessings adorned. We are a people saved by wounds. Crowned head. Nailed feet. Nailed hands. Pierced side. Blessing in the wounds. And as we learned on that sunny September day, there can even be blessing in the bullhorns.

Many Christians comment that they feel lost, even in the midst of their own people and their own sanctuaries. They are adrift. I have talked to other Christians who speak of the need to share themselves more fully, but not having the safety to do so in their own particular communities of faith. There is a longing to go deeper, to relate in new ways to their brothers and sisters, and to know God more fully. Sadly, in countless congregations, admitting pain and suffering is no longer seen as a mark of Christian service, but as a sign of personal failure. Bring in the bullhorns!

Read the Book of Acts! The early church was often attacked. What were those crazy people doing? They were turning against centuries of tradition and proclaiming a new Word. Eating together? Eating unclean food? Eating with those people? Eating the Body and Blood? Cries of cannibalism were launched at the early church. They were accused of the worst kinds of incestuous sins. They stood out and they were misunderstood. Just what were these people up to?

I believe they were circling in, interlocking their arms and uniting as one. In their unity they found the strength to withstand the challenges from outside. They were holding one another up. Through attack, they were able to see their commonalities. Their shared and common woundedness reminded them of the wounded Lord and of their need to heal and be healed. They ate together, sang together, took the Eucharist together, and lived as though their very lives and salvation depended upon the community they were building. Bring in the bullhorns!

I say let the protestors come. When we are attacked, we might just be doing something right. When the church fails to stand out, the church has become society.
There is something about the way in which we are living that is drawing attention. No, its not that we have gay and straight worshipping together. It is not that that
we have red, yellow, brown, black and white worshipping together. It is not that we are old and young. It is not that we ask hard-hitting questions of our faith. What is threatening is that we have been formed as a community. We have found unity. We are united in Christ. United in Christ, yet we still stand out. We are not perfect and there is always work to be done. But what I have witnessed in the weeks following that great September day has reminded me of the blessing of Calvary UMC.

We are a community that makes being Christian life changing and challenging. It is not easy Grace. It is a Grace freely given, but understood through suffering. We are shoulders to cry on. We are hearts that shed tears. But, through all of this, we are smiles and laughter. We are moments of joy and great peace. And in all, we do this in and through Christ. Bring in the Bullhorns and let them remind us again and again who we are, who we are not, and whose we will always be.

Phillip Shoe, M.Div.