photo © 2008 magdalena | more info (via: Wylio)

Quite often, I get an email that says something like this:

Dear Hugh,

Thank you for talking to us the other night about the work that you do. It inspired me so much – I want to do something for Jesus and the poor… but I don’t know what that is. All i know is I can’t stop thinking about it. I am sitting here, waiting on God to show me what I should do…

I get a lot of folks telling me they are waiting on God to tell them what they should be doing.

The thing is, I am pretty sure God has already told us what to do. After all, Micah 6:8 tells us that we are to love justice, show mercy and walk humbly with God. In Matthew 25, Jesus tells us that our very salvation is dependent upon how we respond to the poor and hungry. And in Matthew 22:36-40, Jesus says that the entirety of scripture is found in the commandment to love God and our neighbor. In 1st John 3, it says that we can’t love God if we don’t first love our neighbor. In fact, it says if we say we do, we are liars. God is clear – we are to love each other.

So what does that mean? Well, I am pretty sure it doesn’t mean you have to start a non-profit to feed the homeless, or to dig wells in Africa or to save orphans in South America. Not that there is anything wrong with any of that. Some of us are equipped with talent, time and relationships that make doing those things a natural expression of our faith. What is much more common, however, is that you have a full time job, a spouse, kids and extra activities on top of all that.

And you look at those of us who do full time service and feel like a slacker – like if you really believed this Jesus stuff, you would quit your job and feed the hungry or comfort the dying or… something. And the thought that you don’t know where to begin, or just the enormity of all of that scares the crap out of you, so here you are, sitting, waiting on God…

Just forget about all that for right now, ok? Instead, look around you. If you live inside a city, within 500 yards of where you sit is an elderly lady who has not heard from her children in years. There is a retired man who loves to read, but his eyesight is failing. There is a 8 year old who has no one to take him to the zoo. There is a single mom who can’t remember the last time she sat and read by herself in a coffee shop. Find one of those people. You won’t have to go very far.

Sit with that person. Listen to her stories, read to him, take her to the zoo. While you are with them, give up your time, your ego and your status. Do it for them and expect absolutely nothing in return. Suspend your judgment, resist the urge to fix them. Just show them incredible, sacrificial love.

In that moment, you are so much closer to the way of Jesus than you ever will be running a soup kitchen or raising money for orphans. See, it is not we who are waiting on God. It is God who is waiting on us.

If you can listen to people and love people, you will find a need they have which you can solve. This is the very thing that God is calling you to do. Then do that thing as if your soul, no, as if the very world depends upon your doing it. Because it does.

photo © 2008 See-ming Lee | more info (via: Wylio)

A while back, I was in a room full of fairly conservative church folk, largely in positions of church leadership, who were trying to understand “the homosexual question”. There were 75 or so of them who, in all fairness to them, were really trying to create a safe space to talk.

The format of the event was a short talk from the denominational representative, and then each person that wanted it got three minutes, max, to talk without interruption. It was instructive to hear all the opinions in the room, and it quickly became obvious that what was most prevalent in that room was just lack of knowledge.

I was a guest, so I was determined to not speak up – I was just there to listen. I sat through people talking about the “homosexual agenda”, through concerns about Biblical fidelity, heard stories about how it was not an issue in their church because of how they had a homosexual couple visit back in 1994 and they treated them just like normal people.

Sigh.

Finally, I had had enough. The people in the room that knew me were a little nervous when they say me stand in line to go to the front of the room to claim my three minutes.

“I am a guest here, and I had not planned on saying anything. Instead, I wanted the opportunity to learn from all of you. However, it is probably safe to say that in my context, I minister to more openly gay people than any of you do, and I wanted to share something with you I found.

“Most of the gay people I know tell me that the only people who call them homosexual are Evangelical Christians who want to ‘convert’ them. In other words, when you call a gay person a homosexual, you are using code that tells that person you are probably not an open, accepting person. And I can tell from the conversations that I have heard here today that whatever the positions in this room on this issue, no one yet has said they wanted to be inhospitable.

“A fundamental human right is to get to decide what you want people to call you. And the people we are in this room talking about want to be called gay. Gay is always appropriate. There are other words – lesbian, queer and so on. But the safest one is gay.”

And I sat down.

Crickets.

I ducked out to try to find the bathroom. When I came back, three people were in the hallway, waiting to talk to me.

One was an elderly man who had marched back in the sixties, who wanted to know how he could learn more. One was a female college student who thanked me for my “prophetic voice”. And one was a 20 something man who came out to me. I was the first church person he had told.

If letting people know that calling people what they want to be called is important, we have more work to do than I had thought. And if our conversations don’t lead to us having enough knowledge to know what to call people, we are simply having the wrong conversations.

# # #

If you liked this post, you might enjoy my newsletter Praxis.

photo © 2009 Joe Mabel | more info (via: Wylio)

Occasionally I get emails demanding to know my stance on a particular piece of “historic orthodoxy”. People wonder about my view of hell, or who I think Jesus was or if I think there will be a second coming. Since the controversy over Rob Bell’s latest book (which happens to have the same name as our ministry), this has only increased.

To tell you the truth, I think it is a bit funny. After all, I run a ministry for homeless people. Perhaps it would be more appropriate to ask my views on homelessness? But I digress…

So, to answer the title of this entry – do I deny the resurrection of Christ?

I can do no better than to quote Peter Rollins on the subject.

Without equivocation or hesitation I fully and completely admit that I deny the resurrection of Christ. This is something that anyone who knows me could tell you, and I am not afraid to say it publicly, no matter what some people may think…

I deny the resurrection of Christ every time I do not serve at the feet of the oppressed, each day that I turn my back on the poor; I deny the resurrection of Christ when I close my ears to the cries of the downtrodden and lend my support to an unjust and corrupt system.

However there are moments when I affirm that resurrection, few and far between as they are. I affirm it when I stand up for those who are forced to live on their knees, when I speak for those who have had their tongues torn out, when I cry for those who have no more tears left to shed.

As you might expect, this does not calm the questioners down. They accuse me of not understanding the question. I understand the question perfectly well. I think they are the ones who do not know what they are asking.

So let me be even more clear:

The ancient story is that the most powerful government the world had ever known,Rome, had done the worst thing it could imagine to this man Jesus. They beat him and killed him by the most brutal means at their disposal. Yet and still, the last words on his lips are reported to be his asking God to forgive his killers. On that Friday, the powers of the world said “No” to Jesus and the Kingdom of God he was preaching. If the tomb was empty on that Sunday morning long ago, that was God’s “Yes” to Rome’s “No”. If the tomb was empty, then love overcame power and vindicated Jesus. It means that Jesus was right – the Kingdom of God is at hand, and we are invited to live in it.

If I swear allegiance to this Kingdom, where apparently the dream of God is that it be on Earth as it is in Heaven, then that has implications for how I live. If I pledge allegiance to the USA, it means I should not sell secrets to China. If I pledge allegiance to theKingdomofGod, then I cannot see how I can lend aid and support to the powers that oppose it, such as consumerism, militarism, class disparity and xenophobia.

If I act hateful, or in fact, less than loving to my neighbor, I have denied the resurrection just as surely as my selling state secrets to China denies my allegiance to the USA. I can wave a flag all day, but if I am acting against my country, you can hardly call me a patriot. And I can believe whatever you want about what happened that Sunday morning, but if I am not using what power I have to help God bring the Kingdom into fruition, to help make it on Earth as it is in Heaven, I don’t expect you to call me a Christian.

# # #

If you liked this post, you might enjoy my newsletter Praxis.

photo © 2008 Vince Alongi | more info (via: Wylio)
My last blog post garnered some reaction, both on the Twitter and in real life.

Most of the criticism went along the lines of ‘God loves wealthy people too”. I noticed this was always said by people in a position of relative wealth. In other words, they thought I was picking on them.

Maybe I was. Or maybe I was not talking to them.

My particular calling – or role, if you will – in life is nothing less than demonstrating the love of Jesus to the marginalized and enabling other followers of Jesus to do the same. All of my writing, all of my speaking and all of my public efforts are geared to those two ends.

This is a blog. Here, I write for a) those who are marginalized and b) those who do the marginalizing. I am not writing systematic theology. I am not trying to write The Definitive Guide to Religion, or How to Understand God in 5 Easy Steps. I am writing to let people who have only seen God used as a weapon against them know that God loves them. And to tell those who are using God as a weapon to stop.

Over 1/3 of our funds to do this work come from those who profess no faith at all. Nearly half of our donors are agnostic, atheist and/or gay – and yet they believe in our mission of loving without preconditions. People who shudder at the very name of Christians tell me that if they did believe in a God, it would be the one I believe in.

I recently announced on Twitter and Facebook that I was considering getting a Masters Degree in Theology. I only received two affirmations. One was from a dear friend who is gay. The other was a different friend who is an atheist. If the only people encouraging me to get better at this preaching Jesus thing are gays and atheists, maybe, just maybe I am doing something right.

Several weeks ago, I spoke at the local TEDx event. I had a long talk with an atheist gay man who could not believe that a Christian would even talk to him, let alone listen to how he had been hurt by the church. Another came up to me and wondered how I could be Christian and help gay people, because he thought those two things were mutually exclusive.

Those are the people I am speaking for.  Those are my people – and those are the ones I speak to and fight for.

Yes, I know Jesus loves privileged people. But it is because they are people, not because they are privileged. And they don’t need me to tell them Jesus loves them – the entire American culture tells them that, day after day.

So, if you are upset that my particular ministry and work does not tell you how to Live Your Best Life Now, or how you can have a Godly marriage (whatever that means) ¹ or you think I don’t stand up for Biblical Values², well, there are all sorts of people out there who will tell you all that and take your money. But none of those people will be me.

Notes:

¹ I have no idea what this term means. Did Abraham have a Godly marriage when he pimped out his wife to save his life?  God told Hosea to marry a whore… is that what you mean? Or having six wives, like did David, a “Man after God’s own heart”?
² Biblical Values is another phrase I have no idea what is meant by people who use it. Jacob steals the birthright from Esau, Abraham sleeps with the chambermaid, David kills his mistress’ husband, Solomon has 700 wives and enslaves people. If I emulated any of those people, folks would think I was a congressman or something.

Some people have recently said some things that lead me to think there is confusion about me and what I do – so I want to take a minute to clear things up.

I lead a group of people who minister to and love the very poor and homeless. And as long as that is all I talk about, then most folks have no problem with me or my work. But when I talk about gay issues or gender issues or imply the church ever did anything wrong, folk become very concerned. And tell me that if I stray off homeless issues, they won’t support me. Or even be associated with me. In fact, some have actively tried to stop me. One guy called churches that I work with and told them I was a false prophet and heretic. (As we say in the South, “bless his heart”.)

Let me be loud and clear about something. The same thing I see in Jesus that leads me to have concern and love for the very poor and homeless puts me squarely on the side of anyone who is on the margins.

Let me be even more clear:

I have only one desire, one mission, one calling. It is to reach out to those-

who are broken
who are hurting
who are marginalized
who feel forgotten
who are passed-over
who are weeping
who are unloved
who have been so hurt they are afraid to love
who have been told they are outside of God’s love
who have been hurt in the name of God
who are not sure there is a god
who want to give up
who are so lonely they ache
who have only seen God used as a weapon
who have serious questions they are afraid to voice
who are afraid to hope anymore
who have been told their sexuality or gender separates them from God
who  have been been made to feel less than fully human -

and to tell those people that God is on their side.

Jesus called them the poor in spirit. And called them blessed.

Then he said they get the Kingdom of Heaven.

If you have this God thing figured out, if you’re convinced that you do all the right things that make your God happy, if you have no questions, no doubts, no fear – you aren’t poor in spirit – you’re rich in spirit.

And Jesus doesn’t have much of anything to say to you.

I’m sorry. I know that isn’t what you wanted to hear.

But that is what I am here to say… and shout… and live out.

If you are on the margins – God is on your side.

If you’re on the margins, this is good news indeed. The early followers of Jesus called it Gospel (which is just a Greek way of saying “good news”). If, however, you’re the one putting people on the margins – with your actions, your attitudes, your privilege, your assumptions, your power – that is anti-gospel… or anti-Christ. And you should repent (which is just a religious way of saying reconsider your position) – because you’re working against the stream. Against the way the world now works. Against the very will of God.

I like to be liked. I want to not offend people, and I want people to agree with me and I want people to continue to support the work I do so I can feed my family. I want all of that.

But at some point, I had to accept that either Jesus is Lord – or he isn’t. Either he was telling the truth, or he wasn’t. And if he is, and if he was, well, then that requires certain sacrifices on my part. Like giving up being liked by everyone. Or being popular. Or being financially secure.

No matter how scary that is. But secure in the knowledge that being scared and unsure brings me closer to the very heart of God.

If you are offended by the way I reach out to the marginalized, if I don’t use the right code words to let you know I belong to your club or I spend what you think is too much time on the issues of people you would rather I not focus on – in short, if my carrying out my faith has offended you – well, I am sorry, but I cannot in good conscience do otherwise.

And if this causes you to think I am a false prophet, or mistaken, or deluded or heretical or beyond orthodoxy or whatever – well, I understand. And if this means you don’t want to be my friend or you don’t want to be associated with me or support my organization or you want to tell the whole world what an evil person I am and how I am leading folks to hell – well, you do what your faith leads you to do.

And I will go where mine leads me. After all, we all sacrifice ourselves to one God or another.