Advent Hope

The season of Advent is a time of darkness.

• A friend of mine struggles through infertility and the frustration that it brings.
• Larry, another friend of mine, has an adult son with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome.  A vibrant young man has his energy sapped.  They have traveled the country in search of effective treatments.
• My wife Shannon battles the ovarian cancer that has plagued her for the past eleven years.

As Christians, we’re free to admit the pain of this world.  Sometimes life hurts.  We acknowledge the darkness we experience.

The season of Advent is a time of hope.

• My friend and his wife prayed fervently for a child.  
• Larry and his family begged God for effective treatments.  
• Shannon and I pleaded for a cure.

For the past few weeks my daily Bible readings have spoken of hope to a people in despair.  “God has remembered God’s promises.”  “God has heard your prayer.”  “The Lord will come…”  “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness will not overcome it.”

And in this season of hope, against the backdrop of these profound promises:

• My friend and his wife remain without a new child.  Despite much effort, many procedures, and much expense, the reality of not having more children starts to sink in.  They have reached the end of the line.
• Larry’s son did not find successful treatments.  He passed away on Wednesday leaving a grieving family behind. 
• Shannon’s cancer has progressed in the past year, moving beyond the abdomen and into the lining of her lung.

The great promises of Advent can ring hollow in the midst of the pain of the world.  I thought God promised to hear our prayers! 

Perhaps we need to rethink the hope that comes in this Advent season.  We do not hope in a Santa Claus who will bring us what we ask for (if we’ve been good).  We hope in a God who lives among God’s people.  Advent is a season of waiting for God to come to us in Jesus.  This is a time of remembering that we are not alone, no matter what we endure.

• God walks with couples struggling with infertility.
• God wraps God’s loving arms around those grieving death.
• God journeys with those who live a life of chemotherapy.

We look forward to a day when Jesus will come again and bring an end to the suffering and pain we experience, but until then we simply live in hope.  This isn’t hope in a God who will wave a magic wand and ‘make it all better.’  We live in the hope of God with us in the midst of our daily struggles.

The light shines in the darkness.  That darkness seems pretty deep and impenetrable at times, but in a manger in Bethlehem, a little light begins to flicker.  Immanuel.  God with us.

I cling to that hope with my entire being.

White & Male: I've Received the Benefit of the Doubt

In my life I have generally received the benefit of the doubt.

My parents both received college degrees.  There was never a question that I would do the same. 

That’s not the case for a large percentage of the population.  Family history mattered.

In high school I decided one day that it would be fun to bring a cap gun to school (this was before the days of school shootings).  I shot teachers in the middle of class and they chuckled.  I shot other kids in the hall between classes and nobody cared, until a teacher that I didn’t know ‘busted’ me, confiscating the cap gun and sending me to the vice-principal.  I sat in his office waiting for the stern lecture and the consequences, but he just laughed and told me to take it home.  I learned that day that ‘good kids’ can get away with things that would get others in deep trouble.  Reputation mattered.

In seminary I was one of the very few members of my class to have interviewed and received a call to a congregation by the time I graduated.  Many of my female classmates had to wait much longer for a call.  Some were even offered part time positions.  I had the ‘correct’ chromosomes and faced no opposition or suspicion.  Nobody ever referred to me as the ‘male’ pastor, as if I carried the weight of an entire gender.   In the interview process I didn’t receive a single question about when I planned to start a family.  I was immediately accepted by my congregation (and congregations around).  Gender mattered.

Shortly after moving to my first congregation in Illinois I got pulled over for going 20 miles over the speed limit.    It was one of those tricky places at the edge of town where it feels like you’re in the country but the speed limit is still 35.  As soon as the lights went on behind me I knew that I would receive my first ticket.  To my surprise the officer gave me a warning and sent me on my way.  I later learned that the county dispatcher had told him that I was a pastor.  Most people would have received a ticket that day. I drove off with a clean record.  My profession mattered.

Not once have been stopped by the police for ‘suspicious behavior.’  I do not get stopped by the TSA in airports.  Apparently I don’t ‘look dangerous.’  When flying home from a conference in Denver this past summer we had to wait while Pastor Hassanally was pulled aside.  She shrugged it off as ‘they always stop someone with the name Hassanally.’  Having white skin (and a European name) matters. 

When I hear people of color teaching their children to expect the police to stop them…I cringe.  Why should skin color matter?  Apparently it does!  Arrest and incarceration rates among people of color are off the charts.  Just ask the people of Ferguson, MO.  Not everyone gets the benefit of the doubt. 

My female colleagues talk about having to prove themselves to people in their congregations because of their gender.  A powerful male pastor is considered ‘assertive.’  A powerful female pastor is spoken of in much less complimentary ways.  Only in the past couple years have I seen a significant number of women become senior pastors in this area.    Not everyone gets the benefit of the doubt.

All through my life I have worked very hard to succeed.  I view life as a game to win, and I’ve done pretty well, but it’s easier to ‘win’ when the game is set up in your favor.  I’ve lived a life of privilege that a vast number of people in this country (and world) can only dream of. 

We live in a culture of systematic racism and sexism.  While we’re quick to condemn out-right racist or sexist comments, we’re much more comfortable living with a system that gives the benefit of the doubt to some and that forces others to have to prove themselves as worthy.   I’ve always received that benefit of the doubt.

The hard question is not, “Who is a racist?” or “Who discriminates on the basis of gender?”  Well intentioned people can find themselves playing out a societal narrative of discrimination.  The issues run deep, to the core of the fabric of society.

As a white male it can be easy to think that we live in a ‘post-racial’ and ‘post-gender’ society.  Nothing can be further from the truth.  It’s time for an honest conversation about race and gender in our nation.  The protests of recent weeks have displayed the deep pains of huge swaths of our culture.  People’s wounds cannot simply be ignored.  God's children suffer!

I don’t have amazing solutions to these troubles, but I do know that sweeping them under a rug and pretending that all is well is not acceptable.  

As many of you as were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus. (Galatians 3:27-28)