Common Ground?

It has become obvious over the past few months that a conversation about gun control in America is never going to be easy. There are too many emotions attached to this issue no matter who you are.

For many people, guns represent the most valuable and most irreplaceable American tradition. They are one of the things that gets handed down from generation to generation. They are part of the tie that binds parents to their children.

For many people, guns are a tool that can be used to protect themselves and their families. They are the means by which many people retain their security.

For many people, guns represent objects of destruction. They have lost children or loved ones to gun violence and their experience and perception of these weapons is an entirely negative one.

This is the dilemma we face. Like many have pointed out, the lines of division seem to be drawn culturally. A group of youth went to Pfeiffer University to hear some of the original Freedom Writers speak. I was not there, but I was told that the person leading the conversation asked those attending to raise their hands if they had ever heard gun shots from their houses. The person telling me this then laughed at this question and I realized that she was laughing because almost all of the youth had raised their hands.

This question is the very different when you ask it of a bunch if rural youth than when you ask kids who grew up in the city. Most rural youth grew up hearing the shots of hunters echoing of the hills or houses around them. When they heard gun shots, it was little more than a reminder that hunting season had begun. When inner city kids hear those same sounds echoing off of the buildings around them, it typically means something much different.

One of the challenges we face is to try to understand one another. Just as with the church, this may not be the easiest thing to do. In fact, it may be the hardest thing to do. But if we are to exist in community (locally and nationally) we must seek to understand each other. The father who passes down his beloved rifle to his son must try to understand the perspective of the mother who lost her son in a drive-by shooting. The mother who tells her daughter that guns are dangerous and that she must never touch one must try to understand the perspective of the parents who teach their children to use and respect guns as a way to keep themselves safe. The off-duty police officer who feels naked and vulnerable without a sidearm must try to understand the perspectives of the grieving mother and father who lost their only child in a school shooting.

The unique perspectives and experiences that define us can also be the things that set up the tallest, thickest walls between us.

So how do we go forward? With all of these differing perspectives and barriers separating us, how can we hope to reach a consensus on gun control? This is the tough question for which I would love to give you and easy answer. This is the part of the story for which I wish we had a script written out. But figuring this out together is the challenge which we face as a people (notice I did not say as a country). Realizing that the people with whom we disagree on this topic are just that - people - is one of the first things we must do as we take steps down the road of peace.

This Broken World

With the terrible events yesterday and the anniversary of the massacre at Virginia Tech happening in such a small time frame, it feels impossible for me to not reflect. I find myself reflecting upon this experience in many ways with many emotions. I feel anger, disappointment, fear, sadness. So many emotions that come easily to the surface when our world is flooded with death and chaos.

So many of these experiences have characteristics that force me to reflect upon my own experience of tragedy. Over the past 24 hours I have been forced to remember the amount of misinformation that happens after a tragedy such as this. People are desperate for information. I can't really blame them. I recall watching the TV on the morning of April 16th, 2007 seeing the numbers spiking from 2 dead to 10 dead, and on and on. But I also recall the pain of thinking that someone I loved was one of those numbers. We find ourselves glued to televisions or news websites trying to gather as much information as we can. We find ourselves searching desperately for the facts.

I think that part of the reason we search for these facts is because we really want to understand. We want to know how it happened, who was involved, and what exactly occurred. We want to know all of the whats, whens, wheres because we believe that the facts will help us understand the whys. The facts will help us make sense of such a terrible thing.

The only kind of reflection I find myself capable of at this point is the theological kind. It's the only thing to which I can resort. I am reminded that we live in a broken world. In fact, this is what I've been telling myself since the explosions yesterday. I've heard myself say, "What a broken world we live in. What a sinful, broken world." We live in a world full of pain and sorrow, death and destruction. The evidence is more real and present than we could even imagine. The facts about the broken world we live in are abundant.

It is in our nature to ask why. It is crucial to our innate coping skills to try to understand the reason behind tragedy. We want to say, "This is the reason it happened. This is why." Unfortunately, the question we most want answered is either the hardest question to answer, or the question which has no answer. This is not a reason to stop asking our why question. The brokenness of our world is not an excuse for inaction or apathy. Rather, an understanding of our broken world can help us frame our desire for understanding. When we realize that there is a level of understanding which we cannot reach, we can give ourselves the space to mourn without agenda.

Knowing this, one of the things I try to give myself is just the space to mourn. For me, music achieves this purpose to a large degree, and writing music helps me cope. This hymn is not a new one, I posted it after the Newtown tragedy, but with the anniversary of April 16th and the violence of the past days, it feels pertinent again.

Our hearts and souls they seem to ache,

When we such horrors witness bear,

The bonds of trust they start to break,

Lives tossed aside without a care.

How can there be such senseless death?

Why must our tears so freely fall?

We cry to God with all our breath,

And hear no comfort when we call.

My hope on nothing seems to rest,

my strength begins to give away,

In all the pain I try my best,

But terror is what now holds sway.

Though stranded and alone we feel,

As though beyond all sort of aide,

Our Lord has promised presence real,

In pain and woe, when we're afraid.

To the Lord's presence tight I hold,

When nothing else have I to do.

Through the despair of shadow cold,

Only my God can pull me through.

I encourage you to find the space that you need to mourn without agenda.

Doubting?

John 20:19-31

There is an anecdote that I have heard a number of times. It is meant to confuse the listener and to call into question the listener’s assumptions. The anecdote is asked in question form, you may have heard it. It goes, “If a tree falls in the woods, and no one is around to hear it, does it make a noise?”

When this question is asked, If the listener says, “Well of course it does,” it’s standard practice for the person telling the anecdote to say, “How do you know? How can you prove it?”

If asked this question, I want to immediately launch into a discussion of the physics of sound: well the sound waves have to be emitted. Just because there’s no receptacle around to receive them doesn't mean they don’t occur…and so forth. Maybe you’re like me, maybe you would try to explain it scientifically.

But the question isn't really about the answer. Inevitably, a philosophical conversation is launched: Do things that are never perceived really exist? What is the nature of existence? Does observation equal reality? There’s a reason I only took the bare minimum of philosophy in college.

I don’t think that this question is about philosophy though, I think it’s about something much more personal. I think it is about doubt. 

After Jesus appears to many disciples in a locked room after his resurrection, the disciples go to Thomas, who was not present, and tell him that they have seen the risen Lord. Thomas essentially says, “I am only going to believe you if I see him myself!” Hence Thomas gets the name Doubting Thomas. But does Thomas really deserve this name? Does he really deserve to be singled out?

If we look at the story before Thomas, we find all of the other disciples interacting with Jesus. Jesus appeared to them because they did not believe the good news when they heard. After Mary encountered Jesus in the garden she went back and told the others what she had found. Yet in our passage today we find them huddled together in fear behind a locked door. When they were given the good news, they did not go forth worshiping the Lord and proclaiming the good news of Christ. It took a visit by Jesus to convince them of the truth.

So when they pass on word to Thomas of the resurrection, rather than being a belligerent doubter, Thomas is simply asking to see Jesus in the same way. Thomas is asking for the chance to experience the resurrected Jesus. So maybe he was a doubter, but not more so than the other disciples.

My little experience tells me that many people, indeed many Christians, see doubt as an entirely negative thing. They feel that doubt is what causes people to abandon their faith. I feel that there are two reasons why we see doubt as such a dangerous thing. One reason we are afraid to doubt is because we may have been taught or led to believe that doubting is the same as sin. We may have been told that to doubt means that there is a lack of belief.

Closely related to this is the second reason we are afraid to doubt. We’re afraid that if we open ourselves up to doubt, we have opened the door to unbelief. We are afraid that if we open ourselves up to questioning, everything we believe will crumble. This is not an unfounded fear. If we aren't careful, doubt can lead down a dangerous road.

Let me be clear about the doubt I’m talking about. I’m talking about the tough questions and issues that challenge our faith. I’m talking about the situations we face in this sinful world that call into question that which we believe.

I’m sure there are very few people who can say that the world we live in has not challenged their faith. We live in a world full of complexity, full of darkness, full of challenge. The dire situations that many of our fellow humans face on a daily basis challenge our understanding of the world. The death and destruction that we witness in the world around us calls into question many of the things which we say we believe.

This is the reality of the world in which we live. This is the truth we face. The presence of these things in the world is the root of doubt. When we look at the world and have tough questions, we enter into doubt. 

I am not convinced that doubt defeats faith. I believe that the opposite of believing is not doubting. The opposite of believing is “not believing,” or, as I like to call it, unbelieving. The opposite of believing is not, as we might think, questioning our belief or having doubts about our belief. The opposite of believing is the refusal to give ourselves the chance to have doubts. It is the refusal to place trust in something which we can call into question. It is, in short, unbelieving. Jesus doesn't tell Thomas not to doubt, he tells him not to disbelieve.

In fact, doubting and asking the tough questions about faith can be a useful spiritual practice. Asking whether Jesus had to die, why we receive grace, why bad things happen to good people can give us a chance to learn more about our own faith. Can give us a chance to grow and develop our faith.

If we never allow ourselves to doubt, we face a couple dangers. Our faith can become stagnant. We can fall into a rut where we believe what we do simply because we've never been forced to consider something else. When we refuse to allow doubt and questioning to enter our lives, we have no reason to grow and change.

Don't worry Tom, that's a good thing.

And there is another danger as well. When we have an experience in our lives that forces us to ask the tough questions we may be unprepared. When we come face-to-face with the truly tough stuff of life - death, despair, tragedy - we may not be ready for the doubt that is inevitable. This may cause permanent damage to our faith.

But, if we allow ourselves the the space to ask tough questions on a regular basis, we can be more prepared for those tough moments. If we use doubt to grow our faith, it will be less likely to destroy our faith.

Perhaps we could all use a little more of Thomas in our lives. Perhaps we could use a little doubt to disrupt the comfortable faith that we tend to settle into. Perhaps we could find the chance to strengthen our own faiths through a willingness to doubt.

Ordination Hymn

I wrote this hymn for my ordination service and ended up using it in my installation service as well. I originally envisioned it being sung to the tune of Coronation (Presbyterian Hymnal #142), but the meter is 8.6.8.6.8.6. so it works for a couple other songs in the Presbyterian Hymnal (453 - O Holy City, Seen of John, 490 - Carol's Gift). It felt appropriate to begin and end the songs with praise. In the middle verses I tried to touch on some of the ups and downs of ministry (of all kinds, not just pastoral). Let me know what you think!

Called Forth to Serve

Praise to the Lord our God above, from whom all blessings flow,

Who grants an everlasting love, to whom all thanks we owe,

Who grants an everlasting love, to whom all thanks we owe.

Called forth to serve the world by God, to nurture and sustain,

Take up the loyal shepherd's rod, proclaim God’s holy name,

Take up the loyal shepherd's rod, proclaim God’s holy name.

Amidst deep pain obey the call, to heed the mournful cries,

With grace-filled acts both large and small, you dry the tearful eyes,

With grace-filled acts both large and small, you dry the tearful eyes.

When in God's service hope is found, rejoice most graciously,

Thanks to our Lord we’re kingdom bound, our Maker’s face to see,

Thanks to our Lord we’re kingdom bound, our Maker’s face to see.

When to the kingdom we draw near our loudest praises rise,

We lift our voices loud and clear and raise them to the skies,

We lift our voices loud and clear and raise them to the skies.

© Matthew Drumheller, 2013

Jonah and the Road to Nineveh

After preaching about Jonah for one of the Downtown Albemarle ecumenical services, I became intrigued with his story.  I believe Jonah's life and the way that he dealt with his call from God has an impact on how we live our lives and follow our calls in this season of Lent.

Walls of Nineveh

When Jonah was called by God to go prophesy to the people of Nineveh, he turned away from the path which God laid out before him.  We often think that the reason Jonah turned aside from God’s path was because he was afraid or because he feared the difficulty he might face.  This is not too much of a stretch of the imagination, since Nineveh was one of the primary cities in the Assyrian empire, an enemy of Israel.  We can understand why Jonah might be afraid to go prophesy to people whom he feared.  Yet this was not the reason Jonah turned aside.

We may also feel that Jonah turned aside from his calling because he was unsure of himself.  Perhaps he didn't know if he was up to the task.  Perhaps, like Moses, he didn't believe he had it in him to prophesy God’s message.  We can also relate to this.  Many times in our lives we come across situations which make us fear our inadequacy.  But this is also not the reason that Jonah turned aside from God’s path.

It was not fear or lack of self-confidence that caused Jonah to run away from God’s call in his life.  We find out in the final chapter of the book of he that he ran from God’s calling because Jonah already knew what was going to happen.  He already knew that God is, “a gracious God and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love, and ready to relent from punishing” (Jonah 4:2).  Jonah knew from the very beginning that if he went to Nineveh, a city which he loathed, and proclaimed God’s word, the people there would repent and God would be forgiving.

Jonah made many mistakes in the course of his journey.  But there is one mistake which he made that we often find ourselves making:  Jonah thought he was God.  This was not in the sense that he believed that he was all-powerful or super human. Jonah thought that he was the one who could decide the fate of others; he thought he knew how things should be done best.

So often we think that we have a corner on the market.  So often we think that we know the right path, that we know what God would want.  We think that we know what judgment is right and we are too quick to act on that judgment.  When we judge others and find them lacking, we are trying to take God’s place. Romans 2:1 says, “You have no excuse, whoever you are, when you judge others; for in passing judgment on another you condemn yourself, because you, the judge, are doing the very same things.”

While we may think we know God’s ways and while we may think we understand who’s in and who’s out, we are constantly reminded that it is God who is in charge of all things, including any kind of judgment.  Just as God is the one in control throughout the book of Jonah, God is in control of our lives. It is a useless practice for us to pass judgment on those around us.  Was it not the least likely person who stopped on the road to Jericho to help a beaten man?  Was it not the Samaritan who aided a stranger in need?  When we act like Jonah and try to limit God’s forgiveness, or try to act like we are God when we judge others, we disobey the command to love our neighbors.

During the season of Lent, as we turn our focus to aligning our lives with God’s love, we have a chance to set aside our misconceptions about who is God and who is not.  We have the chance to set aside our foolish belief that we know the boundaries and extents of God’s love.  We have a chance to let God be God, as we seek to follow the road to Nineveh. 

The Presbyterian Grunt

I have begun to notice something about Presbyterians which I'm sure many others have noticed before. It occurred to me as I sat in pews at the NEXT Church Conference listening to the many wonderful preachers. As I listened to the inspirational and thought-provoking words I found myself and many others around me making some strange noises. The only word I can find to accurately describe these noises is grunts.

I'm not using this word in the sense of angry baboon grunts or even lonely whale grunts. I'm not talking about a sound that indicates despair or hopelessness. I'm not even talking about the often curious grunts which issue forth as tennis pros whip the ball back and forth. These are grunts which rise in pitch as they issue forth. These are - as best as I can describe - positive grunts.

I found myself wondering what these strange noises mean. What are these strange sounds that can be heard in Presbyterian (and I'm sure other) churches around our country? And most importantly, why have I been making them?

The only explanation I have for these Presbyterian grunts is that we have found a way to exclaim our joy, pleasure, understanding, and appreciation in the least joyful, pleasurable, understandable, or appreciative way possible. While restricting ourselves as much as possible, we have found the Presbyterian version of shouting "AMEN" in the midst of an inspirational sermon. We have also accompanied these grunts with another physical movement: raised eyebrows. Without threatening the sanctity of worship, Presbyterians around the country have found a way to celebrate in worship.

What it feels like.

What it looks like.

It may seem like I am criticizing these celebrations. On the contrary, I am excited that this method of sermon feedback has arisen. As I preach from the pulpit the contemplative silence which I expect to hear after one of my few significant points is surprisingly filled with modest grunts. I am been calmly and carefully reassured that the statement I just made did not offend everyone in the room and that some people believed it was powerful enough to celebrate. 

This is a very good thing. It gives people a chance to play a role in the sermon - albeit a very small role. It gives congregants a chance to shout AMEN! in their own special way. If you are a pastor and your sermon is met with the occasional grunt, congratulations! You have been successful.

I hope that my excitement about this form of praise is so obvious that it is palpable. I hope everyone will feel encouraged to issue forth their own grunts of approval on Sunday mornings. I am so thrilled that we have this avenue of worshiping God vocally that I issue forth my very own *grunt*.

Other Religions

Claire and I jumped on the bandwagon a little late this time around.  After watching the Oscars last Sunday night we decided that it was time we bite the bullet and go see Life of Pi. 

Life of Pi is a story about a boy who was born in India as the son of a zoo keeper. When the boy’s family comes upon hard times they must move to Canada. On the sea voyage, however, the ship is wrecked and Pi finds himself the only survivor adrift in a life boat with a Begal Tiger. Pi struggles to survive and the story explores in depth the idea of God.

The cinematography in the movie was brilliant. I found the story riveting and thrilling. But, as Claire can attest to based upon my exclamations of right there in the movie theater, I was most excited by the way the film described religion.

The main character, Pi, describes his development as a person of faith in the beginning of the film. He describes how he adopted the practices and beliefs of three different faith traditions simultaneously: Christianity, Isalm, and Hinduism. When told by his father that he cannot be an adherent to all three, he replies, why not?

Why not, indeed. As Elizabeth and I read the questions which were submitted before Lent we came across one question about the other faith traditions of the world and how they relate to Christianity. These questions are especially pertinent this day in age as the world feels as though it is getting smaller. As the people whom we don't understand are getting closer.

With over 7 billion people in the world, Christianity is fast becoming one among the many faith traditions which people honor. In fact, it appears as though Christians may soon occupy the position of a minority. This realization brings with it many questions. How can we know who is right and who is wrong? How should we view other religions? And one of the most difficult questions, what happens to people of other faiths when they die?

To even approach these question, we first need to know who we're talking about. What are these other religions and what do they look like?

To describe a religious tradition is means we're over-simplifying it. All religions are represented by a vast array of beliefs, opinions, and interpretations. To lump all adherents of a faith tradition into one category would be similar to saying that there is no difference between Amish people, Southern Baptists, Catholics, and Presbyterians. This is an important place to start because to describe "Hindus" or "Muslims" implies something which is impossible. Having said that, I am now going to try to do the impossible. But I’m not going to try to describe specific practices, because each person’s practices are different. It is more helpful to speak of the meaning and goal of a particular faith tradition than to try to "define" it.

The "other" faiths

What are the world's faith traditions? If Christians even hope to have a seat at the table where the issues of multiple religions are discussed we have to have some understanding of the people with whom we are sitting. Ignorance does not create bliss in this situation. There are 7 major faith traditions with which most religious people identify themselves.

Hinduism is possibly the oldest faith tradition and the most prominent religious system in India. It is a system of belief which embraces many different understandings of God. The purpose of Hinduism is to pass beyond the imperfections of life and, in doing so, become united with God on a deeper, infinite level. While we are probably most familiar with Hinduism because of reincarnation, the goal of most Hindus is to follow one of the paths (or yogas) which lead to God.

Buddhism is a religious system based upon the experience of a man named Siddhartha Guatama. It was largely a reaction to Hinduism and critique of Indian society. Buddhism is often described as a journey across a river which represents life. The Buddhist starts on the bank of ignorance and death and crosses to the bank of wisdom and enlightenment. The traveler can use one of many methods to cross this river. The ultimate goal is what we know as nirvana or moving beyond everything we know as humans into everything we don’t know.

When Confucius came on the scene in China about 500 years before Christ was born, China was being ravaged by tribal wars and dishonorable ways. Confucius saw that people killed each other senselessly because they didn’t have a moral system which taught them to identify with other people. He taught his followers to value all people and treat others with courtesy. Teaching the importance of relationships with family, community, nation, and world, Confucius helped shape a culture which places value in the other.

Taoism arose in contrast to Confucianism. While Confucianism is a concrete set of beliefs and practices, Taoism involves an abstract focus on energy. While Confucianism speaks to social interactions and how people behave in society, Taoism looks past society to things beyond this world. Especially, Taoists contemplate the balances and opposites within the universe (what we recognize as the yin and the yang). Taoists of multiple branches desire naturalness and simplicity.  

Islam arose in Saudi Arabia in the 6th and 7th centuries, promoted by the prophet Muhammad. The word Islam means the peace which comes with submission to God. Muslims placed their faith in one God while the traditions around them believed in deities. Islam created a system of belief and practice distinct from the surrounding culture. The practice of Islam is marked by a life of strict devotion to God.

Judaism was really a unique faith when it came onto the scene because it was the first deliberately monotheistic faith. Every other culture in the region worshipped many gods. It is hard for us to appreciate how strange and hard it would have been to believe in one God who created everything. For example, when things did not go well for polytheists, they were able to attribute their misfortunes to the evil gods, while relying on the good gods for aide. The Jews did not have this luxury as they believed in a single, good God who created the earth good. They really are one of the unique faith traditions.

Finally, Christianity is truly a historical religion, completely grounded in the narrative accounts of Jesus' life. Since you are probably already a little familiar with Christianity, I will not go into great detail.

Similarities

These are the major religions of the world, although there are many others. In these major religions we find a broad spectrum of beliefs, from the abstractness of Taoism to the concrete practices of Islam. From the intricate system of theology laid out by Christians to the moral instruction produced by Confucius. You may notice that though these religions differ in many ways and came about for many different reasons, there are many similarities between them.

There are aspects of religions in general that appear to be universal. These universal qualities are pieces of our faith traditions that can bind us together. Out of these many characteristics there are three which I feel are particularly important.

First, each of these religions has a set of practices or rituals which they hold dear. This is probably why you come to worship every week. For many faith groups practices revolve around prayer, meditation, and conversation with God. For some the rituals are strictly defined, while others are not as strict. Yet most faith traditions have some form of worship or communication with a higher being.

A second characteristic is an acceptance by most faith traditions that the people are engaged in the ultimate search for truth. We are always trying to understand life and its purpose. Think of all of the movies that have come out in the past few years. I’ve never seen so many movies about zombies or the end of the world, or the overwhelming problems people face in life. All of these movies are asking the question, why are we here. What is the point of all of this, anyway?

But just as every religion searches for truth, they all have to accept that there is some mystery involved in faith. Christians accept that God is above and beyond our understanding, as do Jews and Muslims. Buddhists believe that nirvana, is made up of everything that is not human so it cannot be understood by humans. While we are able to find some truths, we also have to accept lots of mystery.

The final tie that links all religions appears to be some kind of charity or care for others. All religions, from Confucianism to Islam to Judaism uphold the importance of other people and community  They all seem to find value in being aware of and in relationship with those around us and, in fact, those all over the world. This is one of the most foundational aspect of Christianity, and it is a tie that binds us to all people everywhere.

But Different

But just because there are ties that bind people of many faiths together does not mean that we are all one religion and it certainly doesn't mean that we all worship one God. I am not saying that we all believe the same thing or that we should all be one faith. Mahatma Ghandi, a famous Hindi scholar and non-violent leader, is quoted as saying:

"I came to the conclusion long ago … that all religions were true and also that all had some error in them, and whilst I hold by my own, I should hold others as dear as Hinduism. So we can only pray, if we are Hindus, not that a Christian should become a Hindu … But our innermost prayer should be (that) a Hindu should be a better Hindu, a Muslim a better Muslim, a Christian a better Christian." 

This is a prayer to which we can relate. While we are called to spread the good news of the gospel to all people, the world in which we spread that gospel of love is a very different world from the one the early church faced. Part of spreading a gospel of love requires a departure from the judgment that can come when we harshly disagree with and confront other faiths. Spreading a gospel of love requires just that, love. Love for people who are different than us.

Because all people are not the same. Religions are not all the same. In fact, the opposite is true. Religions are very different. It is a disservice to each religion to say they are not.

If you were to ask me, right now if I think I've got it "right", I'd tell you “Yes, I think I do.” I wouldn't waste my time worshiping God the way I do if I didn't think I was right. And I believe that this is the approach all faiths can take to the table of interfaith relations. We cannot give up what it is that we think is right.

But, if you ask me the question, "Are you sure that you've got it "right?" the only answer that I can honestly give you is "I don't know." I would give the same answer to the question, "Are you sure they've got it wrong?" I just don't know.

And that is the answer that every person of faith on this entire planet has to give you in the end. We just don't know. This same answer stands in for every faith tradition when you ask them about what happens after death. Each tradition has its own beliefs. The Bible says many things about heaven, about the kingdom of God, and about life everlasting. But when push comes to shove, and when we've gone past what we believe will happen, we have to settle with, "I just don't know."

That is why they call it faith. Trusting in that which we cannot know. No matter who you worship, how you worship, or why you worship, you do so on the basis of faith.

In the Life of Pi, one of the other characters asks Pi about his view on the different faiths. Pi responds: “Faith is a house with many rooms.” The other character says, “But no room for doubt?” Pi says, “Oh plenty, on every floor. Doubt is useful; it keeps faith a living thing. After all, you cannot know the strength of your faith until it is tested.”

To me, this is part of the extremely life-giving role other faiths play. We challenge and push one another, presenting each other with doubts.

I wouldn't want the burden of having no doubts and knowing everything. I trust in a God who knows everything, who knows the deepest truths. And I believe that these truths are so deep and so complex that I could never imagine understanding them.

This is the wonderful dance which faith and doubt perform together. Their intricate steps move backward and forward. Sometimes one takes the lead, sometimes the other. They spin and swirl appearing to be one. Because faith and doubt both play a role in life, it is a moving, exciting thing.

Knowing all of this, what do we do?

Respect

Think of our passage today. A scholar asks Jesus, “who is my neighbor?” Jesus tells a story. A man lays on the side of the road after having been robbed. The Samaritan comes upon a beaten man of a different faith tradition and refuses to pass him by. A man of a different culture and a different set of beliefs stops and respects this man enough to care for him in his most troubled moments. After the story is over, Jesus turns the scholar's question around and asks, who acted like a neighbor to the injured man? The scholar answers, the one who cared for him. Jesus tells him to do and do likewise.

Knowing all of this, what do we do? We go and do likewise.

We have neighbors, figuratively and literally, of many different backgrounds and faith traditions. God calls us to treat them like neighbors. How do we do that? We treat them with respect. We listen and talk with them, and share a table with them in hopes to learn more. We welcome them as the Samaritan welcomed his neighbor.

May we allow ourselves to dance the beautiful dance of faith and doubt by truly respecting, accepting, and loving our neighbors. Amen.