Hanging off the fiscal cliff

I've had a few days to think about the fiscal cliff. If I were an economist, I'd probably be quoting Paul Krugman http://krugman.blogs.nytimes.com/ and be more concerned about the debt ceiling than the fiasco of the New Year's midnight votes in Congress. If I were a political scientist, I'd be concerned about the effect of the fiscal cliff negotiations on John Boehner and the tea party-led wing of the Republican Party in future legislation.

These things are important. But as a pastor, I'm concerned also about who we are letting ourselves become. What sort of character are we developing for ourselves as a people? Are we looking out for the people God calls us to look out for, or are we just looking out for ourselves?

You and I both know that our political system by design assumes collective self-interest will serve the common good. That's a base principle of representative democracy, and it's a philosophical underpinning of Adam Smith-style capitalism. I won't argue that there's a better system out there, because I don't think a better one has shown its head in the world of real politics. But that doesn't mean it's good enough.

If self interest is all we guide our ship of state by, then those who shout the loudest, shine the brightest, and pay the most will always be well-served. The rest, not. Our current system, good as it is, leaves out the very people the fiscal cliff negotiations failed to help in any meaningful way. Yes, unemployment benefits were temporarily extended, and yes, child tax credits were as well. But nothing was done to lift a single person out of poverty. Health care is still not available to everyone (although we're getting closer, it's still not universal). Just ask a soldier returning from combat about treatment for PTSD, or a homeless person who used to have mental health benefits but now does not have access.

In short, the people Jesus called us specifically to care most about - the poor, the sick, the disabled, the marginalized, the abused and powerless - are still hanging from a thin branch jutting out of the fiscal cliff of a culture that has pushed them over the edge. And some have already fallen, not just metaphorically, to their deaths. As a culture we have their blood on our hands.

All claims that we are a "Christian nation" are not just lies but downright blasphemy if we fail to pay attention first to the people Jesus cared most deeply about. Then we'll enact policy and law on behalf of those living in poverty or sickness or under the backbreaking load of marginalization and injustice. Pass legislation that does that and we can make some claim to be Christian, and Jewish, and Muslim, and all the other religions of this land that value compassion not only in word but in deed.

I'm no economist, but I participate in this economy. I'm no politician, but I participate in the political process and I vote. But I am a Christian who understands that the one I know as Savior reveals a God who cares first about love and justice for the ones who experience them least.

There's more to be said, and more importantly, much more to be done. I hope as people of faith we who say we follow Jesus will unite our voices and urge our representatives to act not out of collective self-interest but (and I know this is so much harder, but it's what Jesus called us to do and be) out of other-regard.

Seeking the common good, I wish you blessings and peace.

When You Have a Dropped Call

Serving in a church that is led by God's call can be confusing. It's difficult enough to discern whether God is calling you to a particular ministry. But how can you tell when the call has dropped?

You've been on the phone, talking with a friend, and just kept going. And going. Suddenly you realize there's a silence which grows longer. Then you know the call was dropped. You don't know how long you were talking into the silence, with no one on the other end of the line. You feel a little foolish.

It's awkward when ministry is like this. Sometimes you keep working long after the connection with God has been broken. And who knows how long it's been? It may have been habit. You may have become so absorbed on your end of things that you didn't realize the conversation was no longer two-way.

What's the solution? Well, after feeling some moments of embarrassment, and, let's face it, a little anger (we're all human after all) you hang up and wait for another call.

What happens next is really important.

You can wait for God to call you into a new ministry. In the words of the Taizé song, "Wait for the Lord whose day is near. Wait for the Lord. Keep watch. Take heart." Farmers especially understand the importance of the fallow field. It takes the land time to recover before something new can grow. Waiting is prayerful time, listening time, discerning time.

But it's equally important to know when to pick up the line and call out to God. Because, as important as listening is in prayer (waiting, too), God's call is not just a one-way dictation. There is an outgoing signal available.

"Tell me: What to do, What comes next, How long, O Lord, how long?" Scripture is full of people just like us calling out to God asking what to do, where to go, what to say, who to meet.

And sometimes the answer will not be very clear. You may have to work your way into hearing God's call. Try out a new ministry. See if it fits. Does the shovel feel right in your hand? Are you well-suited for the job? Perhaps some schooling is required. Or shaking a few trees. Or finding the right people to help.

A dropped call on the phone can be frustrating. But a dropped call to ministry can set you free. You are now free to listen, to experiment, to explore. It can be a hard thing to explain. But if the dropped call happens in a community that truly understands, then you're likely to experience some measure of grace.

I suppose that's my main prayer for you, if you've experienced a dropped call to ministry: a community well-practiced in creating safe, grace-filled space for reconnecting with God. It's also my prayer for the church: That love and grace abound and we listen for God's call together.

Blessings and peace.