Hope for the children

My granddaughter Christa celebrated her 11th birthday on Christmas. We sang Happy Birthday and enjoyed a special cake that my wife Penny had prepared for the occasion, one in the shape of the earth, its continents and oceans made of blue, white and green icing.

Before she cut her cake, Christa surprised us, delivering a short, passionate speech about the global climate crisis. 

Scientists, based on sound evidence, say that the earth’s climate is warming rapidly, primarily caused by the burning of fossils fuels for energy, spewing carbon dioxide into the atmosphere, along with the release of methane by livestock and from pipelines. These emissions trap heat, raising the earth’s temperature. 

As a consequence, ocean temperatures are rising, leading to the destruction of coral reefs and other sea life. Arctic ice is melting, raising sea levels. Rising waters swallow islands and coastlines. Drought-stricken Australia is in flames, leading to the loss of some one billion animals there. Whole species are disappearing. Once-fertile farmland is turning into deserts. Hurricanes and tornadoes are becoming more frequent and devastating.

Meanwhile, government at nearly every level, instead of acknowledging these and other truths about the climate crisis, denies them and, worse, exacerbates the crisis by its policies. Bowing to petroleum and coal interests, the Trump administration eliminates or ignores environmental regulations, actions that contribute to the poisoning of our water, air, soil—and us. It stifles independent scientific research. It suppresses the release of reports that warn of global warming and its harms, and it tells us, falsely, that taking care of the earth will cost jobs and stifle economic growth, when the opposite is true. Green jobs mean a viable, prosperous America. 

Christa’s birthday speech challenged me and reminded me that I am a steward of the earth. We all are. This earth is not ours. “The earth is the Lord’s,” Psalm 24 says, “and all that is in it.” Genesis says that God, the creator of everything, makes us responsible for caring for his creation. 

As stewards of creation, then, we must act now to protect and preserve it.  We can recycle and reuse. Penny gave me cloth bags for fruits and vegetables to replace plastic ones at the grocery. I take along other reusable bags for shopping. We can add more fruits and vegetables to our diets and eat less meat. We can buy energy-efficient cars and products. We can learn about the climate crisis. We can vote for honest leaders who will be faithful stewards of creation. We can multiply our power by joining groups that are saving the earth. Renew Missouri, which promotes renewable energy and energy efficiency statewide, is one such group. 

I am acting now for the future. I want Christa, my three other grandchildren, the children of this and subsequent generations to celebrate many birthdays to come on this, God’s earth. 

Baby, it’s hot outside

A few days ago, my family and I left the relatively cool climes of Scotland, although it was hotter and drier there than it ever was during our many previous visits, and we returned to the scorching heat of the Midwest.

We will be be back home here for a few days before going on another trip, this one to the northwest, where we hope to enjoy a respite from heat and drought.

I heard climate scientist Katherine Hayhoe—who is the subject of the Washington Post article below—speak at the Trinity (Episcopal Church, Wall Street ) Institute a few years ago about the earth’s increasingly “weird “ weather. Weird was her word.

She spoke then and now as a data-driven scientist and as a person of deep faith in God. She demonstrates that Christians, including evangelical Protestant ones, do care, can care and must care about God’s creation.

I hope more people will listen to Katherine and to the many other experts who warn us about global warming. I also hope that all of us will do all we can to care for this earth and will strive to persuade our political leaders to do the same, while we still have time to save our planet.

Here is the link to the article:

https://www.washingtonpost.com/lifestyle/style/one-of-americas-top-climate-scientists-is-an-evangelical-christian-shes-on-a-mission-to-convert-skeptics/2019/07/12/9018094c-8d2a-11e9-adf3-f70f78c156e8_story.html

Freedom costs

During my copywriting days ages ago, I remember writing a newspaper advertisement for the Louisville branch of the American Civil Liberties Union. I thought my headline was clever and even unique: “Freedom isn’t free.” My copy went on to say, “It cost to win it. It costs to keep it.” The other day I saw that same headline on someone’s shirt at the fitness center. So much for my supposed cleverness and uniqueness. I was reminded of that ancient ad of mine today as I read the column below from the New York Times. Freedom in America and in many other countries is under attack. Autocrats seek absolute power and control of people. They think they know better than we do. As I prepare to celebrate Independence Day, I remember my direct forebear John Chumbley. He was a farm boy from Virginia who joined the Continental Army and fought the authoritarianism of George III and the British Government during the American Revolution. This long-ago grandfather of mine lived to see the formation of this great Republic, this experiment in ”government of, by and for the people,” as Lincoln said. May we, the people, remember on July 4 and every day the patriots who fought, bled and died for democracy; they paid that price, because they preferred liberty to slavery, self-government to one-man rule. Freedom is never free. Perhaps that headline was neither clever nor unique when I wrote it in 1985, but it was true. It was true in 1776, and it is certainly true in 2019.

https://www.nytimes.com/2019/07/02/opinion/a-revolution-in-happiness.html?smid=nytcore-ios-share

Sri Lankan attacks require response from moderate Islam

I am outraged and saddened that the greatest day of the Christian year, the Sunday of the Resurrection, was desecrated by the terrorist attacks in Sri Lanka. Nearly 300 people were killed, with 500 wounded in bombings of churches and hotels.

The evidence is that violent Islamists committed these horrific acts.

Now is the time for major Christian leaders—the Pope, the Archbishop of Canterbury, among others—along with leaders of other faiths, to come together with leaders of modernist Islam and condemn these attacks as an attack on members of God’s one human family and as an attack on God himself.

It might seem presumptuous that I, a Christian, would speak to Muslims and tell them what to do after Sunday’s attacks, but I think I have a right, indeed a duty to do so, because members of my Christian family were murdered. I must respond, for they cannot.

Modernist Islam, made up of disparate groups now, should coalesce and should speak with one voice, repudiating this violence and the perpetrators, denouncing them and separating them from Islam—in effect, excommunicating them from the faith.

Modernist theologians within Islam should reinterpret for this 21st Century context—which includes many different people, cultures and views of ultimacy or God—passages of the Koran that, upon a literal or natural reading, appear to endorse and encourage attacks on people of other faiths or no faith in God.

A new hermeneutic or interpretative framework should be, in this Christian’s opinion, love—doing only good to the other, whoever he or she is, working for that person’s flourishing, regardless of faith or the absence of the same.

Modernists should widely disseminate their enlightened teaching and actively engage with violent Islamists, demonstrating the fallacy of their literalism and the affront to the one true God that their version of Islam poses to the one human family, which was created by the God who loves all and who sustains all—Jew, Christian, Muslim. All.

The Most Rev. Michael Curry, Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church, says that “If it’s not about love, then it’s not about God.”

As there was a major reform of Christianity in the 16th and 17th centuries, and as there was further reform in the 18th and 19th Centuries with the expansion of scientific knowledge, so there should be a thoroughgoing reform of Islam.

Furthermore, and specific to this holy weekend’s atrocities, religious leaders of all faiths must unite and must work together in Sri Lanka to heal the wounds—physical, psychological and emotional—left by the attacks.

This effort should be led by Muslim modernists, with the full and visible leadership and participation of leaders of all other major religious traditions, along with others of good will.

These actions should be only the start, the minimum response to this horror.

Love in a time of hate

In my hometown of Louisville, a white racist recently shot and killed two African-Americans. He reportedly had been unable to burst into a black church to kill even more people. A grocery store became his killing field. He was blinded by hate of another race.

Soon afterwards, a Florida man sent what the FBI said were real bombs, not hoax ones, through the mail. Thank God, none exploded. Hate had blinded him, which was confirmed by what he posted on social media. It was full of hatred of Jews and immigrants and African-Americans, according to law enforcement. He was, terrorism experts said,  "self-radicalized." 

On the Jewish sabbath, a man burst into Tree Of Life synagogue in Pittsburgh and shot and killed 14 people at prayer and wounded a half-dozen other people. He thought Jews a threat to his race. Reports on his social media activity revealed extreme anti-Semitism. He was blinded by hate. His murderous rampage has terrorized the Jewish community nationally.

Hate has been activated in America by politicians to increase and expand power for themselves and their pernicious ideologies. Combined with fear of black people, brown people, Democrats and liberals, among others, hate is a deadly and dividing force. It has dehumanized and demonized whole groups and classes of people, including the poor. 

Because of today's politics and rhetoric of fear and hate, some historians claim that America is more divided today than it was during the late 1850s in the buildup to the Civil War. 

What America needs today, while we still have time and before we risk a plunge into another civil war, is a commitment to the rhetoric and politics of love. 

I am a Christian, a follower of Jesus Christ. I believe that Jesus, a Jew, revealed the God of love perfectly, and he suffered,  died and rose from the grave on the third day to demonstrate that love is more powerful than hate. People of all colors and creeds who believe in the power of love have transformed this country for the good at points in our history—abolishing slavery, working for voting rights for African-Americans and the protection of them and advocating for compassionate treatment of the poor and the vulnerable.

In the sacrament of Holy Baptism, I committed myself to Jesus as my Savior and Lord and to his way of love; love is willing and doing the best for every human being, regardless of who he or she is. Jesus fed the poor, welcomed the outcast, healed the sick and broken, cast out demons. He brought people the fullness of life. He teaches me that despite what people who hate and promote division say, I am not to view people who are different from me as the the other, the enemy, as people undeserving of freedom, rights under our U.S. Constitution, or, indeed, life itself. To paraphrase Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., If God is or father, then we are all brothers and sisters. We are all family. Genesis says or our ancient origins that we are from the same parents, Adam and Eve.

Instead of being blinded by hate, we Americans need to be sighted and motivated by love. 
and as hard as it is, especially now, we need to do what Jesus and all great religious teachers have urged: Love our neighbors as ourselves. 

I place little hope in elected officials showing us the way of love or acting according to it, although we should still press them to do so, including through the power of our vote. Instead, individually, we need to enact love not just on days of our religious observances in our churches, synagogues and mosques, but every day. 



How? Get to know people of other faiths and races and political viewpoints. Attend the local Interfaith Alliance of the Ozarks’ meetings.  Do some act of kindness. Volunteer at a food pantry. Refuse to laugh at the racist joke or to vilify someone who believes differently from you. Pray for people you regard as enemies. Mute the voices of hate, division and violence. Raise your voices against them. Whatever our faith, race, class or party affiliation, we must unite against hate and live the way of love for a better America.


The Rev. Kenneth L. Chumbley, Springfield,  is an Episcopal priest.

Nearer My God to Thee

   Why do people attend houses of worship?

  According to a recent Pew Research Center study, 81 percent of the more than 4,700 survey participants said that they regularly attended their houses of worship “to feel close to God.” (Other reasons cited for attendance included: to provide moral education for their children; to become a better person; for comfort in time of trouble or sadness.)

   For as long as I can remember, I have attended church regularly, although I did miss some Sundays when I was in university. But after a profound religious experience during my senior year, I decided I would be in church at least weekly. I wanted to get to know God better, this God I had met in that conversion experience as overwhelming, consuming love. This verse from the Letter of James spoke for me then and now: “Draw near to God, and God will draw near to you.”

   Worship draws me near to God, and without it, I would quickly lose that sense of intimacy that I now enjoy.

   Even when I am on vacation, as I was in July, I attend church weekly. I would never think of missing, just as I would never think of not breathing, or of not eating food or not drinking water. They are necessary to my life. So is God. So is my worship of him. Worship is that act in which I acknowledge my dependence on God, thank him for his blessings, seek his forgiveness and help and receive his grace or favor in word and sacrament. Worship is part of who I am.

   I am part of that 81 percent of Pew respondents. I worship because I want to be close to God. The Sunday service is a time of holy encounter every week. Sometimes, that encounter is intense, other times more subdued. In some way, God meets me there. And I am better for it. My faith in God is stronger.

   On vacation, this summer, Penny and I and granddaughters June and Christa visited Christ Church, Summit, N.J., a United Church of Christ congregation. Our oldest friends are active members.

   There, we met warm, loving people who welcomed us. We learned about the ways the church was showing God’s love to others. In worship, we listened to that day’s Scripture readings and heard an edifying sermon. And we were inspired by the music.

   After the sermon, the choir sang an old African-American spiritual, “There is a Balm in Gilead,” Hymn 676 in the Episcopal Church Hymnal. It goes like this:

Refrain:

There is a balm in Gilead

to make the wounded whole,

there is a balm in Gilead

to heal the sin-sick soul.

Sometimes I feel discouraged

and think my work's in vain,

but then the Holy Spirit

revives my soul again. 

Refrain

If you cannot preach like Peter,

if you cannot pray like Paul,

you can tell the love of Jesus

and say, "He died for all." 

Refrain

   

    Soon, the whole congregation joined in singing the hymn. As I sang, I started to cry—tears not of sadness, but of deep joy. Christa, our youngest granddaughter, took my hand. I smiled. “I’m okay,” I whispered.

   I was more than okay. For in the singing of that hymn, I felt God’s presence with me in a real, even dramatic way. I knew that he loved me, that he had given himself for me and my salvation in Jesus that he was with me always. And I was thankful. That hymn reminded me that God, whom I know in Jesus, is the balm in my Gilead.

   Every Sunday, you will find God in a church near you. He will be there in liturgy, whatever your Christian tradition, as well as in fellowship, in education and formation and in service. Worshiping with other Christians weekly, you will know for yourself that Jesus Christ, the Son of God, is the balm of Gilead. He will make your wounds whole and will heal your sin-sick soul.

To believe is to meet God

What does it mean to believe in God?  I once sought proof for the existence of God. At the time, I valued human reason above all other forms of knowing reality. I had to have proof before I would believe. But I discovered that reason would take me only so far in my journey to God. That journey is rather like another one I have made, this one to the Holy Isle of Iona, which lies off the west coast of Scotland. Iona, home of the 6th century St. Columba, is a favorite place of mine. It is a “thin spot,” as Celtic Christians describe places where heaven and earth meet. To get to Iona, you first have to make a commitment to the journey, because it is a demanding one. You have to take a train, bus or car; then a ferry; followed by another car or bus ride; then another ferry; and finally, once on the island, you have to walk to the medieval abbey. This journey, like the journey to God, must always begin with a commitment to make it. In the journey to (and with) God, reason will get you only part of the way, the way a train or bus or car or boat or your legs will get you only part of the way to Iona. Karen Armstrong, a scholar of religion, reflecting on what it means to believe, says that to believe means first to make a commitment to what you seek. One day, four decades ago, I finally said, “I believe in God,” and then I discovered that God was real. And still is. I experienced God at the depths of my being. And still do. It is the same for me on Iona. God is there for me in the quiet of the abbey church, in my hikes in the hills and along the rocky coast, in the sight of the gannets hovering over the blue sea. God is real to me now, wherever I am, because I believe. I commit myself to him. And I experience his loving presence. May you also believe in God and know him who is born to us on Christmas in a manger in Bethlehem.