Disagreement or Hate?

Michael Sam.  Jason and David Benham.

Three men that have been the source of controversy today as I turned on the news.  One, being celebrated for his lifestyle.  The other two, fired for their beliefs.  

Michael Sam is the first openly gay college football player that was drafted by the St. Louis Rams in today's last round of the NFL Draft.  He had cameras in his house and was profiled by ESPN as the announcement came through that he was drafted.  Breaking down in tears, he turned and hugged and kissed his boyfriend on national television.  Jason and David Benham are brothers that were recently fired from HGTV for stating their stance against homosexuality, according to their faith, on national television. They were deemed "hateful" by a large group of people.  

After watching Michael Sam on television and what the media had to say about him, I was outraged.  But maybe not for the reasons that you think.  I'm outraged by the underlying sometimes blatant label I'm given.  Sure, I have a strong belief in Jesus Christ and I know that He is my Lord and Savior.  I would be what society labels a "Conservative Christian".

I do not support the act of homosexuality.  In other words: "I'm a hateful bigot". 

I'm sure there are those of you who have already decided to stop reading and have decided to go through with the ultimate act of revenge....de-friending me on Facebook.  All I can ask is that you finish reading.  If you still think I'm a jerk after reading this, I can accept that.  Just don't label me a bigot.  

One of the great things about this country, is that you are free to disagree with others.  But what's becoming more commonplace is the scary opinion that if one disagrees with another, that equates with hatred.  That is simply untrue.  I disagree with a lot of things about others but in my own heart, mind, and actions, that doesn't equal hate.  As a follower of Christ, I'm called to think and believe as He does.  What goes hand in hand with that belief is the call to love whom He loves.  

I'm a firm believer in Pro-Life, yet have close friends that have experienced abortion.  I don't love them any less.  I don't drink or smoke, but don't look down on those that do.   I don't support the gay lifestyle, but here's the most important fact:  That doesn't mean I hate homosexuals.  These kinds of implications leave us skating on dangerously thin ice.  If a simple disagreement of opinions can be considered a hateful crime in this country, we're dangling precariously over a pit of censorship wherein the First Amendment, and our right to freely express our opinions without fear of repercussions, becomes the first casualty.  

We are turning into a country where the First Amendment only works if you believe the same way that the mainstream believes.  We are turning into a country that says "If you disagree with me, than you hate me, and that is wrong.  But I can hate you for disagreeing with me."  From Phil Robertson all the way to the Benham brothers, people are being discriminated against because they disagree with a way a lifestyle that they don't choose to live.  Please let that last sentence sink in a bit.  I'm not talking about the thugs that go out and bash, commit violent acts against, or threaten homosexuals.  I'm talking about a society where I can't simply disagree with something that goes against my faith and my values without being discriminated against.  Hatred is being determined much more by someones opinion than it is by their actions, and that is flat out wrong.  

I'm not here to tell you the exact reasons I don't agree with someones lifestyle or exactly why I believe the way that I do.  That's not the point.  I'm here to tell you that I have an opinion.  A belief.  And that should be allowed.  To turn on the television and see one man praised for making a statement, and another ostracized simply because he disagrees, is not the road this country should be comfortable with traveling down.  

The key here is respect.  I will respect your opinions and your beliefs, regardless of whether I believe in them or not, and love you every second through it.  However, I must ask that you do the same for me.   If we could simply respect each other, and love one another, a lot of these issues would resolve themselves.  

In order to love one another,  we have to be able to look beyond certain behaviors and see each person as an individual.  Step one of that is not to claim that just because someone disagrees with you or your lifestyle, that they have hate against you.  Difference does not equal hate, and until this country understands this, it will be a very slippery slope from here on out.  

I love you all.  

Letter to my Mom

This blog is dedicated to the first woman I've ever loved.  My mom.

With Mother's Day approaching, this week I caught my self reminiscing on what my Mom actually means in my life.  I thought of different ways I could honor Mother's Day.  Send a card?  Flowers?  Chocolates?  I couldn't decide.  Although she'll be getting something from me, I couldn't stop thinking about the impact she has meant in my life.  I thought I would put something in print for her to read anytime she wanted to Google it.  I was thinking of different things I could tell you about her, and different ways I could write about her in this blog, but after countless deletes and re-writes, I couldn't get it straight.  I decided that the best way would be to directly talk to her.  My open letter to my first love.

Dear Mom,

I wanted to write you this letter to thank you for who you are, but where do I begin?

You loved me before anyone else.  You taught me to read, to love, how important manners are, how to wash my own laundry.   You changed me, fed me, bathed me, and you even pulled that GI Joe out of me when I sat on it in the bathtub (I'm sure Dad would have dry-heaved trying to get that soldier to retreat from his covert mission).

To sum it all up:  You love me.

You have loved me at my best and you have loved me at my worst.  As I sit here thinking of examples to give for both my best and my worst, I can only find examples for when you have loved me at my worst.  I think that says so much about you.

Sure, we have had some incredible times together.  Times when I quite honestly took you for granted.  One of my greatest all-time memories is when I was about 9 and we were at Grandma Wyatt's house.  I pretended to fall asleep on the living room floor because I didn't want to brush my teeth before bed.  As I squinted my eyes to make it seem like they were closed, I saw you walking towards me.  I thought that you were going to wake me up to get ready for bed and I was bummed out.  Instead, you knelt down beside me, kissed me on the cheek, and whispered in my ear "Goodnight, Matthew.  I love you."  It is a memory I've held on to and remember each night when I kiss Mikaila goodnight.

The times that stand out to me most are the worst years of my life.  Times where I know that I've broke your heart, but that heart was never broken enough to stop pouring love into me.  The day I snuck out of the house while you were sleeping and woke you up.  The day when I stole money from your purse to get soda from the school.  The day I told you about my addiction.  The days that you visited me in jail.  The day I told you about my relapse.  The day I checked into rehab.  All days that I know broke your heart, but all days that showed me how unconditional your love is for me.  You were there through my recovery, championing me through it, willing me through it, praying me through it, but most of all....loving me through it.

I feel that I don't give you enough credit for who you truly are.  It seems that Dad's get a lot of the attention and respect in a family while Mom's sit back, do all the dirty work, and sometimes become invisible.  I want you to know that you are not invisible.  I love Dad, but you are my hero.

Thank you for the very big shoes you've given others to fill.  There are some days when I think it would be easier if I didn't have such a big legacy, that mediocrity would be a breath of fresh air.  But that's not you, and that's not me because of you.  Thank you for living life full-out, saying things that others are afraid too.  Thank you for your faith, for being a pioneer, and setting the bar so high.  The life that I see in front of me is because of you.  I've been called a mama's boy more than once, and it's a badge I wear with honor.  I'm proud to be the son of such an incredible woman.  You have been, and continue to be, the most perfect mother for me.  Although I haven't had a perfect past, I will honor you by how others see the man I am today

Mom, thank you for making me realize that I'm worth everything in this world.  I'm worth it because of you.  If I could fly to the moon and write your name on it, I would.  Until then, I'll continue loving you to the moon and back.  Over and over.

"Goodnight, Mom.  I love you."

Drop the rock, Jackass

My heart aches.

Last week, I attended a church in a nearby city to meet with a few guys that I've been in counseling with.  I was speaking with them in the lobby, when I heard the doors open behind me.  I turned to look and saw that it was a well-known homeless man that always stops me and begs for change.  I turned to the guys and one of them said to another member of the church: "what is he doing here?"  No one, myself included, stood up for this homeless man. 

Immediately I felt my heart break.  I finished speaking to the guys I was visiting with, got in my car, and drove away.  As I was driving, I was replaying what had happened and not only what was said, but what wasn't said.  I turned the radio off, and just drove in silence.  As I was driving I heard these words in my mind:

"Drop the rock, Jackass."

The teachers of the law and the Pharisees brought in a woman caught in adultery.  They made her stand before the group and said to Jesus, "Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery.  In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women.  Now what do you say ?"  But Jesus bend down and started to write on the ground with his finger.  When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, "If anyone of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her."  Again he stooped down and wrote on the ground.  At this, those who heard began to go away one at a time, the older ones first, until only Jesus was left, with the woman standing there.  Jesus straightened up and asked her "Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?"  "No one, sir." She said.  

"Then neither do I condemn you." Jesus declared. "Go now and sin no more."  (John 8)

Drop the rock.

Jesus exemplifies the heart, soul, the spirit of an advocate.  Notice, in this passage when the Pharisees first start bringing the faults of this woman, he doesn't answer.  That shows to me the spirit of an advocate is slow to speak.  If we're all being honest, I think it's pretty easy to allow the spirit of an accuser seep it's way into our life.  

But if we're all being honest, I think it's easier to become the spirit of the accuser.  We've all had a rock or two in our hands.  It's even easier to say "Oh, not me.  I'm not an accuser.  I'm a champion for others. I root for success."  But our hearts, our attitudes, our spirit says different.  

I've noticed that most accusers have borders they put up, certain people they attack, and certain people they leave be.  We easily throw rocks at those who are outside our walls.  Politicians, athletes, celebrities, homeless, addicted, those different.  Those we don't know.  It's easy to say "I can't believe what they did.  I can't believe how they live.  I can't believe the sin they are involved with."  I've noticed that I've gone straight from being in the dirt with the rocks above my head, to dusting off my pants and grabbing the first stone. 

I hear Christians making fun of the way people look.  The way people come to church dressed.  The way someone speaks, acts, or even the color of their skin.  It's easy to take cheap shots at them, because we don't know them, and don't think they'll ever find out, or we won't ever get to know them.  How can it hurt them if they don't hear what we are saying?  I'm talking about ALL churches. 

Maybe that's the issue.  We don't know them.  They need a Pastor too.  They need a church too.  They need someone to get to know them too.  They need someone to show them the love of Jesus too.  It's no wonder that I hear over and over "I tried church, but I wasn't welcomed."  Or "I tried church and felt judged."  Instead of someone walking into the church and being greeted with a hand of grace, they are walking in to rocks being held in hands and stuffed into pockets.

Is our gospel big enough to welcome everyone into our church?  Are we big enough for politicians, celebrities, athletes, homeless, those addicted, those different?  Are we big enough to say "Come on! This is your family! This is your home!  We'll love you."  

Even the physical posture of Christ displays the message of grace in these verses.  Jesus' posture is down in the dirt, while the religious pompous, arrogant, leaders of the church stand straight in their arrogance with rocks in their hands.  These postures even exemplify the attitude of an advocate and the attitude of an accuser.  The leaders stand so tall and so proud, but the words of Jesus completely level the playing field.  Jesus is saying "Oh pastor, oh bishop, doctor, lawyer, stay-at-home mom, garbage man,.......service tech.  You're the same as this woman! You're no different."

We don't need anymore churches standing in their arrogance with rocks in their hands and filling their pockets.  We need churches who are in the dirt with people that are broken and hurting and need the love of God.  That has to be the church.  We run towards the messes.  We run towards the broken.  We run towards the addicted, the depressed, the shamed.  We don't turn away, we run towards them.  We are there to hold them, to love them, and to defend them, to speak and think well of them.  To believe the best in them.  THAT'S the spirit of the church.  What if every church grabbed a hold of this concept and carried with us the attitude of an advocate.  The attitude of compassion, mercy, grace, and love to these hurting, lost and broken people.  

At the end of this story, Jesus says "I don't bring any accusations.  Now go, and sin no more."

Do you know why?  Because she had just encountered grace, and faith had erupted in her heart.  And now she could finally live the life she had only dreamed of.  How many of us are hampering this same dream of others?  How many churches are killing the faith, the dreams, and hopes of those searching in exactly the place they need to, but are being greeted by stones.  

Grace is what sets us free from sin.  Grace is what keeps us from the stones.  Not law, not legalism, not customs, not traditions, not do's and don'ts, but the grace of God.  Without it, this would be one empty world with a ton of bloody stones.  

Church, put down your rocks, and instead hold open your hand.  Get in the dirt.  We can only be an advocate or an accuser when those doors open to knew seekers of Christ.  Christ got down in the dirt for me, he grabbed my hand, dusted me off, and said "Go and sin no more."

He didn't dust me off just so I could become one of those that were ready to destroy me for my sin.  We are no better than anyone else.  

Drop the rock, church.