I remember back in my fundamentalist days thinking Tony was a sort of benign cancer in the faith. Now I find myself trying to be more like him.

https://religionnews.com/2024/11/19/tony-campolo-sociologist-and-famed-red-letter-christian-has-died/

Let America Be America Again -- Langston Hughes

Editor's Note: This is the poem I think of and hear in my head every time I hear the words "Make America Great Again" or see one of those red caps. 

=====================================

Let America be America again.

Let it be the dream it used to be.

Let it be the pioneer on the plain

Seeking a home where he himself is free.

(America never was America to me.)

Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed—

Let it be that great strong land of love

Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme

That any man be crushed by one above.

(It never was America to me.)

O, let my land be a land where Liberty

Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath,

But opportunity is real, and life is free,

Equality is in the air we breathe.

(There’s never been equality for me,

Nor freedom in this “homeland of the free.”)

Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark?

And who are you that draws your veil across the stars?

I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart,

I am the Negro bearing slavery’s scars.

I am the red man driven from the land,

I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek—

And finding only the same old stupid plan

Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak.

I am the young man, full of strength and hope,

Tangled in that ancient endless chain

Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land!

Of grab the gold! Of grab the ways of satisfying need!

Of work the men! Of take the pay!

Of owning everything for one’s own greed!

I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil.

I am the worker sold to the machine.

I am the Negro, servant to you all.

I am the people, humble, hungry, mean—

Hungry yet today despite the dream.

Beaten yet today—O, Pioneers!

I am the man who never got ahead,

The poorest worker bartered through the years.

Yet I’m the one who dreamt our basic dream

In the Old World while still a serf of kings,

Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true,

That even yet its mighty daring sings

In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned

That’s made America the land it has become.

O, I’m the man who sailed those early seas

In search of what I meant to be my home—

For I’m the one who left dark Ireland’s shore,

And Poland’s plain, and England’s grassy lea,

And torn from Black Africa’s strand I came

To build a “homeland of the free.”

The free?

Who said the free? Not me?

Surely not me? The millions on relief today?

The millions shot down when we strike?

The millions who have nothing for our pay?

For all the dreams we’ve dreamed

And all the songs we’ve sung

And all the hopes we’ve held

And all the flags we’ve hung,

The millions who have nothing for our pay—

Except the dream that’s almost dead today.

O, let America be America again—

The land that never has been yet—

And yet must be—the land where every man is free.

The land that’s mine—the poor man’s, Indian’s, Negro’s, ME—

Who made America,

Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,

Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,

Must bring back our mighty dream again.

Sure, call me any ugly name you choose—

The steel of freedom does not stain.

From those who live like leeches on the people’s lives,

We must take back our land again,

America!

O, yes,

I say it plain,

America never was America to me,

And yet I swear this oath—

America will be!

Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,

The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,

We, the people, must redeem

The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers.

The mountains and the endless plain—

All, all the stretch of these great green states—

And make America again! 

From The Collected Poems of Langston Hughes, published by Alfred A. Knopf, Inc. Copyright © 1994 the Estate of Langston Hughes. Used with permission.

Unringing the Bell?!

"You taught me how to love you, baby

You taught me, oh, so well
Now, I can’t go back to what was, baby
I can’t unring the bell
You took my reality
And cast it to the wind
And I ain’t never gonna be the same again"
-- Bob Dylan, "I Ain't Never Gonna Be the Same Again," from Empire Burlesque

I think this song sums up the process of deconstructing and reconstructing my beliefs and describing my faith journey. I believe Dylan used the 3 or 4 albums after his evangelical phase to try to really figure out his relationship with the church and faith itself. He often used the metaphor of a romantic relationship to make these points (just like in Song of Solomon). 

Herein is where he captures my thoughts and my heart. The church taught me love. The church taught me how to extend grace to myself and to others. The church taught me to seek peace, not conflict. The church taught me to see others as above my station (not take the seat at the head of the table). The church taught me to do unto others as I would have them do unto me. The church taught me to turn the other cheek, not to strike back, to put down the sword, to beat swords into plowshares. The church taught me to be humble in regard to my own holiness and rightness and to be loving and forgiving in regard to others. 

She "taught me, oh, so well." Because of that, "I can't go back to what was... I can't unring the bell." Understanding the love and grace of Christ "took my reality and cast it to the wind" so much so that I can't stop but to act on it in regard to others. 

Even if, especially if, I no longer understand or support contemporary evangelicalism's focus on having to be true theological right, having to be a political power that can "reclaim" our Christian nation status (that we never have been) by making all the laws reflect our theological viewpoints, and by creating enemies of those who don't believe rather than loving them with tenderness, kindness, humility, and gentleness to show them the peace (not anger and not judgment) of God in our own lives.
So yeah, in spite of my harsh words toward the church, I still believe. In spite of my disdain for the way the word "christian" can taste in my mouth someting thanks to the way we stain it, I have seen truth, and I still follow. I love the church, and I want to see it become something truly Christlike and to stop playing at restoring the power that came from being culturally beloved, community empowered, nationally protected -- we have a lot to answer for post-Constantine. I think if we were still fighting for our lifes in our faith rather than fighting for the last word in our communities, states, and nation, we'd understand far more the true nature of following. 

"Sorry if I hurt you, baby
Sorry if I did
Sorry if I touched the place
Where your secrets are hid
But you meant more than everything
And I could not pretend
I ain’t never gonna be the same again"
-- Bob Dylan, "I Ain't Never Gonna Be the Same Again," from Empire Burlesque

So, yeah, I'm sorry if my words can feel like I hate the church sometimes. I don't. But I do hate some things about it. I do hate the Christian nationalist cause it has allied itself with. But I've seen the secret depths of the faith, the things that changed hearts, including mine, and I believe we are trading those in for something lesser. We are trying to unring the bell, at least culturally. Having seen that, my passion can become anger and yes, can even sound like hate if I'm not careful. Thankfully, I have my wife to let me know when I cross that line. 

Even so, I can't help but still believe (thank you, Michael Been). I can't unring the bell once my ears have been opened. 

"What good am I if I know and don’t do
If I see and don’t say, if I look right through you
If I turn a deaf ear to the thunderin’ sky
What good am I? ..."
- Bob Dylan, "What Good Am I?", from Oh Mercy

Some of you may remember the old spiritual gift inventories that churches would take to determine where a person's gifts and talents might lie. They were really little more than a sort of religious Meyer's Briggs, but they could certainly be helpful in understanding ourselves. Well, without fail, every time I took one, I ended up high on prophecy. Now, before you think I'm psychic, that doesn't mean predicting the future. It simply means speaking to the church to deliver news that was usually bad news. God didn't tend to raise up a prophet just to say, "Hey, folks. Things are great. You're really rocking it down there. Keep it up." No. Most of the time, the message was "You've screwed up so bad I'm going to send you into another county as a conquered people so you can remember who you're supposed to be."  It's similar to when Paul called out the churches for rottenness in his letters. 

So, obviously, I've always been one to address the church, and not to shy away from talking about the shortcomings. According to those inventories, it was my gift and my calling. Remembering those things, even today makes sense of my life and my passion. There are others to sing Kumbaya and hold hands and talk about all the great things the church is doing. Not my calling. 

What good am I if I still believe and say nothing? I ain't never gonna be the same again. 

Updated and inspired by my previous post from here.

Meme Drop

Day 1 Promises: Calling Londontown

If those promised executive orders on Day 1 happen (the ones from the 2023 speech) I could be on the frontline to face a civil rights suit as long as I continue to support and validate my trans students and accept them as they are. My options are either shut up and hide or speak out boldly, and as those who know me know, I don't do "shut up and hide" very well. 

#NotGoingBack
#TheEnemyWithin

Years ago, Geoff Moore and the Distance recorded a song written by Dave Perkins called "Calling Londontown." I'm sure they were thinking ahead to those days when Christians would be persecuted by the followers of the Beast, but I'm seeing that song a lot differently as we begin our baby steps into a Christian Nationalist State.

She said, run, take the radio

Keep your head low tonight

Lights through the tree line, no time

I can hear the sirens calling

I can hear their footsteps falling, oh...

Calling Londontown

Calling Londontown

Can you hear me now

Calling Londontown

Pressed to the cold ground

Writing these words down

Pray for the others

Your sisters and brothers

The underground

My secret obligation

Transmit our situation, oh...

Calling Londontown

Calling Londontown

Can you hear me now

Calling Londontown

Nobody thought these days would come

Days of martyrdom

But now, if you believe

If you believe at all

You will go to the wall!

I can hear the sirens calling

I can hear their footsteps falling, oh...

Calling Londontown

Calling Londontown

Can you hear me now

Calling Londontown

The German Churches and the Nazi State (link to The United States Holocaust Memorial Museum)

The population of Germany in 1933 was around 60 million. Almost all Germans were Christian, belonging either to the Roman Catholic (ca. 20 million members) or the Protestant (ca. 40 million members) churches. The Jewish community in Germany in 1933 was less than 1% of the total population of the country.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer

How did Christians and their churches in Germany respond to the Nazi regime and its laws, particularly to the persecution of the Jews? The racialized anti-Jewish Nazi ideology converged with antisemitism that was historically widespread throughout Europe at the time and had deep roots in Christian history. For all too many Christians, traditional interpretations of religious scriptures seemed to support these prejudices.

The attitudes and actions of German Catholics and Protestants during the Nazi era were shaped not only by their religious beliefs, but by other factors as well, including:

• Backlash against the Weimar Republic  and the political, economic, and social changes in Germany that occurred during the 1920s 

("Weimar Republic" is the name given to the German government between the end of the Imperial period [1918] and the beginning of Nazi Germany [1933]. Political turmoil and violence, economic hardship, and also new social freedoms and vibrant artistic movements characterized the complex Weimar period. Many of the challenges of this era set the stage for Adolf Hitler's rise to power -- https://encyclopedia.ushmm.org/content/en/article/the-weimar-republic)

• Anti-Communism
• Nationalism
• Resentment toward the international community in the wake of World War I, which Germany lost and for which it was forced to pay heavy reparations

These were some of the reasons why most Christians in Germany welcomed the rise of Nazism in 1933. They were also persuaded by the statement on “positive Christianity” in Article 24 of the 1920 Nazi Party Platform, which read:

"We demand the freedom of all religious confessions in the state, insofar as they do not jeopardize the state's existence or conflict with the manners and moral sentiments of the Germanic race. The Party as such upholds the point of view of a positive Christianity without tying itself confessionally to any one confession. It combats the Jewish-materialistic spirit at home and abroad and is convinced that a permanent recovery of our people can only be achieved from within on the basis of the common good before individual good."

Despite the open antisemitism of this statement and its linkage between confessional "freedom" and a nationalistic, racialized understanding of morality, many Christians in Germany at the time read this as an affirmation of Christian values.

Read the full article: https://encyclopedia.ushmm.org/content/en/article/the-german-churches-and-the-nazi-state

Liberated?!

Well, I think worship pastor Rob Frazier, also a CCM artist, uses satire to best sum up my thoughts on the matter. #theenemywithin