People Are People

I keep repeating this idea to myself and others lately so maybe it’s blog-worthy. It’s pretty simple, really: People are just people. It’s amazing how often people forget that. We get so worked up over our differences (and we’re seeing that a lot with elections approaching) but we’re all pretty much the same, aren’t we? We’re all broken and precious. We’re all beautiful messes. And even though some people might behave badly, can I say that I’m better than them?

I knew a guy in college named Ron Shamberger. He was the nicest guy you could hope to meet. I didn’t know him well, but I knew him well enough to say, “Hi.” Talk to him over a PBJ at Noon Bible Study at the Baptist Student Union, that kind of thing. He always smiled and shook your hand. Always pitched in his 50 cents for a crummy PBJ. He was one of hundreds of normal, clean-cut, middle-class, college students I knew. Just like everybody else.

One night, Ron broke into his girlfriend’s apartment and shot her in her bed. He carried her body to his car and started to put it in the trunk. Then he saw a gas can and had a better idea. He carried her and the gas up to her apartment and torched the place. He drove around for a while and then went to his college pastor’s house in the middle of the night, knocked on the door, and confessed. Ron was put to death by the state of Texas a few years ago.

I understand that certain categories of people are more likely to behave in certain ways than others. Poor people are more likely to vote Democratic. Republicans are more likely to own guns. But I keep having to remind people I know that PEOPLE ARE JUST PEOPLE. I think that's my new slogan - people are just people. If I grew up in South Philly, I'd be more likely to vote Democratic. If I grew up in Corsicana, Texas, I'd be more likely to own a gun.

Sure, we’re all born with different passions, different temperaments. But we’re pretty much the same. Even those of us who are “new creations in Christ Jesus” are befuddled by the same human nature as the rest of our human brethren. Beautiful messes. Dirty and shimmering.

Consider this: If it had been the Kenyans – and not the English and Spaniards – who got the wild hair to explore the world and imperialize our continent; and it had been the white people whom those Kenyans later brought to America and enslaved; and it had been the white people who marched and rallied and suffered and persevered through the Civil Rights Movement, then it would be the white portion of our population today that would more often grapple with issues of fatherless families, violence, white-on-white crime, and poverty. If you don’t believe that – if you think somehow that people of the white race would have “pulled themselves up by their bootstraps” after emancipation or Brown v. Board of Education – then you’re six kinds of screwed up.

How about another scenario? Let’s say that the prophet who rose in the seventh century wasn’t named Muhammad but Maurice. Let’s say that the Ottomans, rather than losing their empire, kept their peace and their edge in math and science. Let’s say that Greece’s influence moved east instead of west. Let’s say that Europe became home to Islam while the Middle East underwent an enlightenment. If you think for one second that the fair-skinned Francs wouldn’t be blowing each other up and causing a lot of tension in the world community today, you’re not thinking at all.

People are just people.

I really think much of the Middle Eastern culture is barbaric. (I know, not a PC viewpoint.) But I don’t think it’s because Jordanians or Syrians are, in their mettle – in their genes, barbaric. I think if you plucked a young Iranian out of his home when he’s young and put him in my hometown, he’s much more likely NOT to grow up to wage jihad. (I know. He could kill his girlfriend. But Ron was a statistical anomaly that only proves my point.) On the other hand, if you took me out of my white, middle class home and dropped me into Fallujah as a baby, I would be just as likely as the next kid in the mosque to blow up a bus.

In the words of Depeche Mode: People are people so why should it be you and I should get along so awfully?

Partying Like A Rock Star

I had the chance to hang out with Caedmon's Call this weekend - actually just a few members of the band - Todd Bragg, Jeff Miller and Andy Osenga. There were also four other people with us - Mandy Mann (who has been opening for Caedmon's), her beau named Kevin, a sound tech named Jacob, and a guy I talked to very little named Josh (I think). Oh yeah, and Steve Hayes, the reason I got to do this in the first place! (Yeah, I know, my blog is getting to be all Steve, all the time. I wish I knew how to quit him.)

Anyway, this post is just to say that the rock stars and roadies I went out with Friday night are the most unassuming, friendly, and fun-loving people you could expect to meet. They included me in the conversation when it would have been really easy to talk about "inside" stuff. We sat around a table and we didn't discuss theology or the emerging church or world hunger or the plight of the Dalits. We talked about our kids and goofy new names for bands. They're a fun group and it's easy to see why they've had such a long-lasting and effective ministry.

Baptists Fighting Over Tongues

I'm glad the Star-T covers SWBTS so closely. I'm not so glad that this is what we give them to cover. Luckily, the most onerous fact in the article isn't revealed until the 19th paragraph:

Two months ago, McKissic was invited to speak at the seminary's weekly chapel service. He told students that he first privately prayed in tongues in a dormitory when he was a student at the seminary in 1981. He also criticized the Southern Baptist Convention's International Mission Board for adopting a policy excluding missionary candidates who acknowledge that they speak in tongues.

Incredible.

Here's the first part of the article:

FORT WORTH -- Trustees at Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary adopted a resolution Tuesday that clearly states the institution will not tolerate the promotion of the practice of speaking in tongues.

The resolution comes almost two months after the Rev. Dwight McKissic of Arlington said during a chapel service that he sometimes speaks in tongues when he prays.

That prompted Southwestern President Paige Patterson to issue a statement
that the video of McKissic's sermon would not be posted online or saved in the archives of the seminary, as are the sermons of all other chapel speakers.

Patterson submitted the resolution to trustees during their meeting Tuesday. It states: "Southwestern will not knowingly endorse in any way, advertise, or commend the conclusions of the contemporary charismatic movement including private prayer language. Neither will Southwestern knowingly employ professors or administrators who promote such practices."

The resolution was adopted 36-1.

McKissic, a new trustee, cast the dissenting vote.

Howling Review

My friend Steve turned me on to a new band and I think I'm in love! Black Rebel Motorcycle Club makes the meanest, coolest, rockinest music I've heard in a while. I heartily recommend their album "Howl".

If you judge by the packaging, it seems like this band is trying way too hard. I mean how many words that say "we're cool" can you put in a band name? Likewise, the album notes try really hard to have lots of rocker angst written in Kerouacian prose. I think they took the same approach to some of their lyrics which seem to be pretty dense. But even if I never figure out what the songs are about, the music is worth the purchase. Lots of jangling guitar, breathless harmonica and organ - everything a rock album should have. Think young Bob Dylan music but with the voice of....um....well....someone better.

I have one nagging question about this band though....who's black? And who's a rebel? Do those words modify the club? Is it a club of black riders of rebel motorcycle? Or a club or riders of black Honda Rebel motorcycles? Or a club of motorcycle riders who happen to be black and rebellious? So confusing...

Where can I get a sandwich board....

This story about street preachers ran in today's Fort Worth Star-Telegram (full story below). It made me think some thoughts in my thinking brain. So here they are:

• The brand of evangelicals who engage in street-preaching, door-to-door evangelism, etc. are always talking about "going on the offensive" and the like. Who are they offending? Who is it they're playing offense against? If it's Satan and his lies to poor and hurting souls they might meet on the street, then I can think of more effective ways to combat the lies.
• Having said that, I like street preachers. At least I like the ones who seem to do it as a form of self-expression. I like the guy who stands on the corner and plays the saxophone. So I like the guy who stands there and spits out what he's passionate about.
• I don't like the idea of street-preacher boot camp though.
• At first, I wanted to title this post "Crazy Christians" (yes, that's a Studio 60 reference) and decry another group of Christians embarrassing themselves in the public eye. But you know what? I'm tired of trying to police/disparage every group of fuzzy-headed evangelicals whose hearts are in the right place even if their heads aren't. So come on, street preachers. Meet me in Sundance Square and I'll listen to your rant and buy you a beer.

Preachers to 'invade' Fort Worth, Dallas

The Associated Press

DALLAS - A Texas-based ministry group plans to flood entertainment districts in Dallas and Fort Worth on Saturday with 500 street preachers trying to spread their faith, an event the group's president calls a "city invasion."

Darrel Rundus, founder and president of The Great News Network, said he hopes this first large-scale event will serve as a test run for future invasions across the country.

"Its a roll-up-your-sleeves, get-in-the-trenches, big-time battle in the street for souls," Rundus said. "We have an army of evangelists out there invading the city for Christ."
Street preaching, never entirely embraced by traditional evangelical churches, has been gaining in popularity, said David Allen, the dean of the theology school at Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary in Fort Worth.

Most evangelicals take their biblical cue from a passage in the Book of Matthew known as The Great Commission, Allen said. In it, Jesus Christ tells followers to "make disciples of all nations ... and teach them to obey everything that I have commanded."

Evangelical Christians interpret the passage differently, and pastors from traditional churches say there are more effective and less threatening means than hitting the streets.

"The common perception people have of street preachers is someone out there who is on the kook fringe of things," Allen said. "You think of someone who wears a sandwich sign that says, 'The world will end tomorrow.' "

That confrontational style turns people away, said Jim Lemons, pastor of the River Oaks Baptist Church near Fort Worth. He does not encourage church members to conduct open-air preaching but prefers "servant-style evangelism," such as volunteering in soup kitchens or homeless shelters.

"I think there are ways to make a bigger impact, a more lasting impact than yelling for 15 or 30 seconds on a street corner," Lemons said. "If I were not a believer and I were accosted, I would say, 'I don't want anything to do with that group or with what that religion believes.'"
Rundus acknowledged the image problem but says his group teaches a non-confrontational approach.

Rundus has spent the past two years building a network he thinks will make a nationwide event possible. He has 133 local leaders around the country who organize groups of street preachers. His group has organized 16 "evangelical boot camps" that he said has attracted about 100 participants apiece from around the world.

Among the most important lessons: Preaching locales must be public property and popular. The group typically favors entertainment districts, such as the Deep Ellum neighborhood in Dallas or Sundance Square in Fort Worth.

At the boot camp, would-be street preachers learn to overcome fears of public speaking, to engage people in conversation and to preach in an "inoffensive and Biblical way," Rundus said.
David Bird, a veterinarian and a leader in North Carolina, came to Texas this week for the invasion. Street preaching is the "last thing in the world I ever thought I'd be doing," he said.

But Bird has been doing just that for about two years, using lessons from Rundus boot camps.

He will begin conversations by handing out a pamphlet made to look like U.S. currency. The pamphlet appears to be a $1 million bill, but it has Biblical passages on it.

If a pedestrian appears interested, Bird will ask what he calls the million-dollar question: "If you died tonight, where would you spend eternity?"

The Great News Network instructs preachers to then discuss the 10 Commandments, asking listeners if they've ever lied, stolen, cursed or lusted, making them unsuitable for heaven.

"If just one persons life was changed, then it's worth it all," Bird said.

Local leaders will ultimately determine whether Rundus ministry group is able to make its city invasion work on a national level.

"Its time for Christians to stop going on retreats," Rundus said, "and start going on the advance."