Oh, I can hear it now, someone is saying that their Bible hasn’t been edited because they have a 1611 Authorized King James Bible, which is (according to one Baptist minister) “God’s preserved, inerrant, infallible word of God”. Um, sure it is. You know the old saying that ”There are two things you don’t want to see being made—sausage and legislation”? I’m pretty sure we ought to add the Bible to that list.

To understand why I say that, let’s take a quick and dirty look how the Bible as we know it came into existence. Biblical scholars tell us that most of the Old Testament was written during the Babylonian captivity and later. The earliest books of the New Testament (the Pauline Epistles) were recorded about 20 years after the death of Jesus. But, the fact that the vast majority of the Bible wasn’t written down when it happened is just the tip of the iceberg.

The rest of the story is that we don’t have any original manuscripts of the Bible. The oldest we do have are from the Dead Sea Scrolls with a couple of Old Testament texts dating back to around 150 BCE. Most newer translations make use of the Dead Sea Scrolls and other texts that weren’t available to earlier translators. But, all of these texts were written in either Hebrew or Greek and in the translation guess what happened? Because some words couldn’t be directly translated, they got edited. In fact, the Gospel of Mark has two endings. The original ended at verse 8 of chapter 16 with verses 9-20 being added sometime in the second century. Editing.

If that’s not bad enough, the first collection of scriptures was ordered by Emperor Constantine I who legalized and hijacked Christianity for political purposes (to shore up a crumbling empire). The biblical canon as we know it today was arrived at through several ecumenical conferences. That sausage metaphor is starting to make a little more sense, isn’t it?

I thought maybe old Auggie made his remark about editing because he had access to the originals. Maybe, but seeing as how he lived 300-400 years after they were written, I kind of doubt it. Especially in light of what we know about the end of Mark. Really, this whole editing thing is silly. Being a writer myself, I know how writers think. And, none worth his salt would release something for public consumption without proofing and editing.

Does all this mean I don’t believe the Bible? Not at all. It means I take the Bible seriously enough to learn all I can about it and find the best ways to apply it to my life. As Karl Barth said “I take the Bible too seriously to read it literally”. Do you?

I was looking for a picture of someone “hopelessly straight” and this was the best one I could find.

When I changed the direction of But Not Yet, I said to myself “Self, you probably shouldn’t write about LGBT issues until you’ve built a little capitol with your new audience”. But, I thought about it and decided that if I didn’t write about these things, I wouldn’t be true to myself. And, if I’m not being true to myself, I’m being true to you, beloved. So, I’m ignoring that (probably good) piece of advice and writing about LGBT issues.

I don’t ever remember having strong feelings about gay people one way or the other. It’s not like I’ve never known people who were gay. Several people I grew with came out later in life, but it never really occurred to me that they might be gay. And, when I did make a friend who didn’t hide his sexuality, it didn’t really matter: he was my friend and that was that. Over the years, I’ve gotten to know quite a few other LGBT folks and, guess what? They’re just like us straight folks.

One thing that amazes me is the utter mundanity of my LGBT friend’s lives. After the way TV and movies have protrayed them, you expect a lot more FABULOUS!!! and lot less parent-teacher conferences, stopping by the store to get milk or any of the everyday crap we all have to do. I guess that’s because all the gay people in the media are of a certain type: the men are flamboyant, they all dress extremely well and excel at interior design, while the women are all tortured artist types that look like Janeane Garofalo. I know a lot of gay people and not a single one of them fits that stereotype. They are as varied as any of the straight people I know. It’s a little disappointing, to be honest. Just once, I’d like to meet a Jack McFarland type.

A friend once said there are plenty of gay people out there, so there must something to it. For my part, I will admit to some curiosity about the whole gay thing. Not so much about the sex part (well, maybe a little), more the relationship end of things. I wonder if gay people have to deal with the whole “Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus” bit. Actually, I wonder if a relationship with a man might be easier because, being a man, I understand them. Women, on the other hand not so much. I’m almost 52 years old and I know as much about women as I did 30 years ago. In other words, not a whole lot.

I hear people say that gay folks choose to be that way. I just don’t see it. I didn’t wake up one morning and say to myself “I think I’ll be straight”, it’s just the way God made me: hopelessly straight. Everything said up to now should point out that LGBT people are no different than straight people in any way; in other words, they are also just the way God made them. Because of that, the idea that anyone chooses their sexual orientation doesn’t make much sense to me. What about you?

I don’t think it’s a stretch to say Jeffries is an ass or that he made his remarks fully aware of how insensitive they were and he doesn’t really care about that. And, if it ended there, I probably wouldn’t be writing about it. But, yesterday, I saw this:

At first glance, you might be thinking this is a great idea. I mean, poor people are getting something they need and jerky boy Jeffries’ clothes are going to people that he would not consider “cool kids”. So, where’s the problem? Just that the underlying message is that the worst thing we can do a company is to give their product to homeless people. And, as Hugh Hollowell put it, this is “Yet another example of us casting the poor as extras in a movie about us.” When you stop and think about it, the whole idea is almost as bad as the comments that inspired it.

In Valley Brook, Oklahoma there’s a coffee shop that’s stirring up some controversy. Joe’s Addiction describes itself as a “Community of Hope”, a place for “people from various backgrounds who ‘hang out’ and do life together.” That sounds good, but NewsOK tells us that Joe’s “unapologetically counts sex offenders, the homeless, drug addicts and others living on the fringes of society as valued customers”. And, that’s a problem for the people of Valley Brook. As one resident put it “I don’t feel safe with those people around”.

Greg Karber, the fellow in the A & F video, thinks what he’s doing is a win-win situation: homeless people get clothes and Jeffries gets a finger in the eye. And, the gentleman in Oklahoma is concerned for autistic daughter’s safety. Neither of these men are trying to be offensive. Quite the contrary, they’re both attempting to “improve” their community. But each, in their own way, has made a distinction between themselves and those people.

Those people, meaning the people on the margins, the ones that Jesus himself hung out with while he was here and would most likely hang out with now. In fact, these folks are the current version of the people he talked about in Matthew 25, the ones in whom he said we would find him. Couple that with what he said in John, “Love each other. Just as I have loved you, so you also must love each other”, and I have to say both approaches miss the mark. Any thoughts?

While the wording of the commandment is consistent, what follows isn’t. In Mark, the lawyer praises Jesus’ knowledge and understanding of the law. In Luke, the exchange leads to the story of the Good Samaritan. In Matthew, and this is my favorite version, Jesus follows up by saying, “All the Law and the Prophets depend on these two commands.” That’s a curious statement and I’ve wondered what He meant by that. Over time, I’ve come to believe that it was a replacement for a legal system that had grown wildly out of control. At the time of Jesus’ birth, there were over 600 laws (613 to be exact) that Jews were expected to follow. These laws ranged from the ethical laws of the Ten Commandments such as “You shall not murder”, “You shall not commit adultery” and “You shall not steal” to the dietary laws of Kashrut (where the word “kosher” comes from) to laws dictating the keeping of the Sabbath. Needless to say, it was bit more than the average Joe (Yoe?) could keep up with. With this one sentence, Jesus reduced those 613 different laws down to two simple commandments.

Simple?  Maybe. Easy? Not at all. Believe me, I know; much as I’d love to say I love my neighbor all day, every day, I don’t. I don’t even come close. I’ll let you in on a little secret: I’m not a people person. In fact, I agree with as one of the characters in Christopher Moore’s book The Stupidest Angel: A Heartwarming Tale of Christmas Terror who said, “People, generally, suck”.  I realize that’s a strange way for someone who belongs to a faith based on community to look at things, but I’m complicated that way.  Believe me, Christianity is no easy road for someone imbued with curmudgeonly traits like me.

In the past, I’ve said I struggle with the mystical aspects of Christianity. I think this is, in part, because I have yet to get a handle of this “love your neighbor” thing (loving God is no picnic, but it’s easy compared to this) and my OCD manifests itself in a need to complete things while my ADD constantly distracts me from actually finishing a task. Like I said yesterday,  sometimes, my life is just a big ol’ party.

As a rule, I’m not that interested in “deep” theological concepts, I want a theology I can use in everyday life. And, “Love God, love your neighbor” does that. It may not as deep, complicated or advanced as some of the things you might hear. It’s a simple (but not easy) way to live. Maybe that’s what Jesus was talking about when he said “But the gate that leads to life is narrow and the road difficult, so few people find it.” What do you think?

Yesterday was Youth Sunday at College Park Baptist Church in Greensboro, NC. As pastor Michael Usey put after the second service, it wasn’t about young people playing “big church”, it was the younger members of our family showing us how the Gospel was revealed in their lives. The lectionary text this year was Exodus 3:1-6. That may not be the whole text, but it’s what I remember. I’m not sure if that’s complete because I have a slight case of Attention Deficit Disorder and a really shitty short-term memory. Throw in a little OCD and, sometimes, life’s just a big ol’ party for me. And, yes, I’m being sarcastic when I say that.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t really suffer from ADD/bad memory/OCD. I don’t “enjoy every minute of it”, either. Let’s just say it has its moments and, most days, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I firmly believe that whatever talent at this writing thing is because I’m just the slightest bit weird and that weirdness springs from the well of my “affliction”. I’ve always been told I march to the beat of a different drummer and I’m not sure if that’s an innate thing or if I learned to because it was impossible for me to stay in step with everyone else. Whatever the case, I decided a long time ago not to let it get me down. Instead, I wear my oddity as a badge of honor.

I will admit it does have it’s downfalls, however. In “A Dark Night“, I talk about my particular “dark night of the soul”, saying “I’ve never had that big God moment people talk about where God knocked me to my knees (or, in the case of charismatics, laid me out completely). Hell, I’ve never even felt my heart “strangely warmed” a la John Wesley.” Yesterday, listening to some most excellent young people talk about their experiences with holy ground, I began to realize that, thanks to my ADD, I miss a lot of that.

I’ve heard people talk about “thin places” or “holy ground”, but my experience with these things is fleeting at best.  My encounters with them are a bit like trying to relate a dream you had the night before; you remember the feeling, maybe even a couple of specifics, but the whole thing is vague, hazy and just out of reach. As I said in “A Dark Night”, it’s maddening.

I think my ADD plays into this because my mind is constantly in motion. You’re supposed to “be still and know that I am God”.  Ask any of my elementary school teachers and they’ll tell you that being still isn’t exactly my long suit. I’d make a terrible Buddhist because sitting quietly, emptying my mind and being in the moment can be a futile exercise.

Even though it might sound like it, I’m not really whining about my problem. It’s more an acknowlegement of the problem itself. As philosopher and psychologist John Dewey said “a problem well put is half solved.” I’m not sure if it’s been “well put”, but I understand a little more of what’s going on even if no one else does. And, because of that, maybe my dark night is getting a little lighter.

Born toward the end of the Great Depression in Greensboro, NC to Ronald and Della Steele, my mother’s early years were spent in the mill village surrounding Cone Mills; my grandfather worked at the Revolution plant. When she was around 5, my grandparents had saved up enough money to buy some land in the country and build a house. Money was tight and things were tough by today’s standard. They hauled water hauled from the spring, had outdoor “plumbing’, and did their laundry outside. I’ve heard about laundry day more than once. For years, my grandmother insisted that was the only way to get clothes truly clean was to boil them. So, on wash day, Mama and Grandma would dip water from the spring to fill the wash pot, boil the clothes, scrub them and hang them out to dry. While they waited on them to dry, Mama would get on her bicycle and ride down to the store and get two Pepsis in those big glass bottles, along with a pack of peanuts or a couple of those cream-filled oatmeal cookies. Eventually, the laundry would be dry and that meant ironing time. In the days before permanent press fabric, almost everything had to be ironed. If you think all this sounds like a lot of work, imagine doing it during the height of a North Carolina summer, with heat and humidity both hovering around 95. It’s just as much fun as it sounds.

In 1956, she married her high school sweetheart and, like her namesake in the Bible (her middle name is Ruth), wherever he went, she went. Even if that meant moving across the country to San Fransisco or the flatlands of Oklahoma. In the 1980′s, they finally made it back to North Carolina and settled in Raleigh, where they stayed until Dad retired. When my father had finally had enough of the workplace, they fulfilled a dream of my mother’s: to live in the mountains. They bought a house and some land in southwest Virginia and spent the next decade turning it into a paradise.

In those years, she nursed both my father and me through surgery, cancer and chemotherapy, was the best grandmother any child could ask for and made wherever she happened to be feel like home. She is a woman of many talents, but I think that’s her greatest one.

Dad passed away last April after a final dance with lymphoma and the ordeal that is chemotherapy. Mom was there right up to the end and after. In the Doctor Who episode “Vincent and the Doctor”, the Doctor says “The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good things don’t always soften the bad things, but vice versa the bad things don’t always spoil the good things and make them unimportant. And we definitely added to his pile of good things.” Lately, she’s helping a friend who’s undergoing chemo now, sharing her experience and nursing someone else through that hell. It’s her way of adding to someone’s pile of good things. For the record, Mom’s a Whovian

Honestly, a few words on Mother’s Day are nowhere near enough compensation for all the things my mother has done for me, my family, her community and the world. But, putting words on paper (or its electronic equivalent) is what I do these days. I just wish I could do more.

Probably not, but you’ve more than likely said bigoted things and didn’t even realize it. You may be wondering if you are a bigot. If you are, that’s a good thing. It means you’re acknowledging that you may have said or done things in the past that were hurtful to others and you don’t want to do that anymore.

Maybe we should see what a bigot really is before we into the question of whether you’re a bigot or not. Merriam-Webster says a bigot is “a person who is obstinately or intolerantly devoted to his or her own opinions and prejudices; especially : one who regards or treats the members of a group (as a racial or ethnic group) with hatred and intolerance”. I would say that the fact you’re even wondering whether or not you’re a bigot is a pretty good sign you’re not one. But as I said in the first sentence, it’s quite possible you’ve said some bigoted things over the course of your life.

Right now, you might be wondering what you might have said that was bigoted. In looking for a good example of this, I tried a lot of different statements. But, one that a lot of people have said recently is “We need to take this country back!” Why is that bigoted? Think about this for a minute: who do we need to our country back from?

Lest you think I’m preaching to you from some holier-than-thou summit, rest assured I’ve made my share of bigoted statements over the years. Maybe not the one mentioned in the last paragraph, but that’s only because of timing. I looked for written examples, but I must have deleted them when I realized they were offensive. Rest assured that with my propensity to shoot off my mouth without thinking, I’ll make more. Take that as assurance that none of us is immune to momentary stupidity.

You might think we’ve gone too far; asking hasn’t the pendulum swung too far the other way? Depends on where you are in relation to that pendulum. If you’re a white male, yeah, from your point of view, it probably has swung too far. But, if you’re a woman, an African-American, a Muslim, a gay person, or any other minority, you probably don’t feel like it’s swung far enough because you’re still catching crap just for being who you are.

Whenever you say something, it should always remembered that what you mean is, at best, half the equation; the bigger half is what your audience hears. For example, you may not mean it this way, but what minorities hear when you say “We need to take our country back” is “We need to take our country back from you”. Now, in John, Jesus told us to “Love each other. Just as I have loved you, so you also must love each other.” I’m pretty sure these kinds of statements don’t live up to that commandment.

Look, the point of this isn’t to make you feel like shit because you’ve said or done things that are bigoted, racist or any of the other ugly words we don’t want associated with our words or actions. The point is to make you aware that, sometimes, we all say or do things that are bigoted or racist or any of those ugly words we don’t want associated with our words or actions. None of wants to be “that guy” (or “that girl”). You know the one I’m talking about, the person who says incredibly insensitive stuff and has no clue how insensitive they’ve just been. Don’t you think being aware of what we say is the first step to avoiding that?

If the Southern Baptists are willing to acknowledge climate change (even they do use some weasel words), I’d say that battle is won. The question then becomes what do we do about it? Many more conservative Christians opt for Drisoll’s approach and believe Jesus’ imminent means they don’t have worry about the environment. There are progressive Christian’s who place a priority on environmental stewardship and radically alter their lives to reflect this. Then, you have those of us in the middle who want to do the right thing, but the reality of our lives doesn’t give us the flexibility of our more radical (I mean that in the best possible way) brothers and sisters.

For most people, how we treat the environment is a balancing act. Sure, we want clean air and water and we know there are things we need to do to ensure them for us and our children. But, there are things we have to do thrive and survive in this world and some of them are at odds with the things needed to care God’s creation. So, what do we do? Is there a third way?

Of course, there is. Maybe the size of your family means a small hybrid isn’t feasible for you. But,that doesn’t mean you go out and buy a freakin’ Hummer. Find a choice that fits your particular needs, but doesn’t shit all over the planet. And, there are things that you can do that will help offset whatever damage your vehicle might doing. Always remember the three “R’s”: reduce, reuse, recycle. We live in a much more disposable culture than our parents or grandparents. My grandfather threw away almost nothing, but he wasn’t a hoarder. Well, maybe he was, but he generally found a use for the things he hung on to. Instead of plastic or paper bags at the grocery store, invest in a few of those canvas jobs you see those hippie-dippie types using (something I need to do myself). And, if you do wind up with some plastic bags, find ways to reuse them instead of just tossing them in the trash (I’m sure there’s something on Pinterest). And, of course, recycle everything you can. These aren’t big changes, but they are ones any of us can implement and they do make a difference.

Look, in a perfect world, we’d all live within easy walking or biking distance of most of the places we have to go and only need a car for long trips; which, of course, would be kept to a minimum.  We’d all live in solar-powered, carbon-neutral houses and those three “R’s” would be second nature to us. Unfortunately, this world is far from perfect and we have to live in it. But, does that mean we should use scripture to justify an excessive lifestyle? I don’t think so. What about you?

Forgiving others and ourselves is, for some reason, extremely hard. In Christopher Moore’s novel “The Stupidest Angel: A Heartwarming Tale of Christmas Terror”,  one of the characters says “People, generally, suck”, which is my mantra at times. And, this aversion to forgiveness is one reason why I feel that way. Because of it, we clamor for blood whenever a crime has been committed. And, as in the case of Tamerlan Tsarnaev (who’s already dead), we may even go so far as to deny them a final resting place. Of course, that doesn’t matter to him; he’s dead. It does matter to his family, however, who are only guilty by association. I suppose that’s their fault, though; they should’ve have the forethought to throw him to the wolves before he decided to become a terrorist.

For most of us, the person we find hardest to forgive is ourselves. I really don’t like to think about what it means for my particular pathology, but I’m still beating myself up for things I did as a teenager. I’m cursed with an excellent long term memory, so no one knows better than me what a miserable son of a bitch I’ve been in the past. And, my twisted little brain takes great pleasure in reminding of that every chance it gets.

Forgiveness, however, is at the heart of Christianity. In Matthew, when Peter asks “Lord, how many times should I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Should I forgive as many as seven times?”, Jesus answers “Not just seven times, but rather as many as seventy-seven times.” Later, Jesus asks God to forgive his persecutors as he is executed on the cross. I’m pretty sure I couldn’t do that.

It’s possible our reluctance to forgive comes from the Old Testament and Mosaic Law; eye for an eye and all that. It’s certainly an easier way to approach the subject. But, wasn’t the whole point of Jesus to give us a better way to live? He brought a new covenant, one built on love and forgiveness. That means everyone is forgiven. Not just those like us, those we like or those we agree with; Everyone. That includes Tamerlan Tsarnaev as well as  ourselves.

Or is it?

One the neat things about finding a new voice and reaching out to a new audience is that when you’re struggling for a topic, you can get in your WABAC (pronounced “way-back”) Machine and revisit previous posts. Today, as the title indicates, we’re going to talk about social justice. It’s been almost two years ago since I wrote the original post and a few things have changed. First, as I mentioned in the opening sentence, I’m trying to reach a new audience. Second, I’m reaching out to them in a different way, one that I hope isn’t quite as angry and condemning. Third is that Glenn Beck’s presence on the national stage is significantly diminished. That one is kind of a double-edged sword because, while he isn’t on TV saying things guaranteed to raise the hackles of any progressive worth their salt, his absence means one less source of blog fodder. But, that doesn’t mean I can’t resurrect some of his greatest hits, starting with “Social justice and economic justice, they are code words“, which he said after urging viewers to “look for the words ‘social justice’ or ‘economic justice’ on your church Web site. If you find it, run as fast as you can”. The implication being, of course, that they’re code for socialism. God, I miss that guy.

I’m going to start with a couple of definitions.  According to BusinessDictionary.com, social justice is “The fair and proper administration of laws conforming to the natural law that all persons, irrespective of ethnic origin, gender, possessions, race, religion, etc., are to be treated equally and without prejudice.” Socialism is “any of various economic and political theories advocating collective or governmental ownership and administration of the means of production and distribution of goods.” Now, I’ve been going for a long time and while I have heard a lot said about social justice, I’m pretty sure I’ve never heard a pastor (or anyone else) advocate the governmental or collective ownership of anything.

The thing is social justice was a huge part Jesus’ ministry here on earth; the Sermon on the Mount is riddled with it. Don’t believe me?  Look at the Beatitudes.  Those nine statements turned Jewish society of the time on its ear. If you’re still not sold on this justice thing, remember what Jesus said in his first sermon (Luke 4:18-19),

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
because the Lord has anointed me.
He has sent me to preach good news to the poor,
to proclaim release to the prisoners
and recovery of sight to the blind,
to liberate the oppressed,
and to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

And, if that’s not enough, read Matthew 25:34-46. Here’s an interesting exercise: the next you read any of the Gospels, try looking for words about social justice. It is eye-opening to say the least.

So, is social justice a code word? Yes, but when you decode it, you’ll find it might not mean what you think.