By any measure, that’s a pretty full week. BUT, Stephen Colbert took the cake. On his news satire show, Colbert quieted gay marriage apologists by quoting from the Bible all the places where Jesus condemns homosexuality. It was a pretty dramatic build up. He hoisted the black, leather-bound Bible and looked straight into the camera and said, “I’d like to, but He never said anything about it.”

Colbert is no Bible scholar, but he is right. Jesus never said anything about homosexuality. Of course those bent on characterizing homosexuality and gay marriage as a sinful, moral abomination will no doubt do their eisegetical best to infer that because Jesus never specifically mentioned gay relationships in his description of marriage or divorce, we can assume, of course, by default he condemned homosexuality.

Oh, and confession—eisegetical, coming from the word eisegesis… I borrowed that from a really smart friend of mine who challenged me to prove homosexuality was morally permissive since the Bible clearly says it’s an abomination. Eisegesis is reading our own ideas back into the Bible. Consequently, those of us who apply social, historical and literary criticism to our understanding of scripture are reading our own modern narrative back into scripture.

For example I might say, homosexuality, as we understand it today, is not a concept that existed, period, at all, in the first century. As such those inferring the Bible says homosexuality is a sin are doing their own eisegesis. Of course the counter argument is I’m full of hooey because the Bible clearly says homosexuality is a sin. So, you can rather see why last week I noted we (at least we Methodists) are kind of stuck on this issue. We can’t agree to agree or agree to disagree.

Here’s my thing though… as I said to my friend, I don’t have an agenda to prove him or anyone else wrong. Moreover, I don’t have an agenda to prove I’m right. I just don’t think the Christian faith hinges on those few places in the Bible where it does mention sexual interaction between same sexes.

If I’ve really missed the boat on this one, I’m prepared to ask forgiveness, because in my view I’d rather err on the side of loving too many than not enough. I’d rather err on the side of being too inclusive than too exclusive. If it turns out Jesus really did intend for us to exclude gay persons, and this really is the foundation of Christian teaching… If I really botched this one, I’ll fess up… I’ll say so and beg for mercy and forgiveness, and be prepared for the consequences.

When Jesus was asked what is the most important commandment… he had his chance, he really did, because you’d think that based on today’s debasement of gay persons by many Christians, surely Jesus would likely have said something like, “You shall not love persons who are gay with any part of your heart because homosexuality is a sinful abomination.”

He didn’t quite say that though. When Jesus was asked which commandment in the law is greatest? He said, ‘ “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.” This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets.’ (Matthew 22:36-39)

To me, this one… the one Jesus said is most important, this one seems kind of like a big deal. But, there’s another one that also kind of gets my under garments in a bundle sometimes, because it seems pretty important too (and it doesn’t mention homosexuality either). It’s about the time of judgment—that story of separating the sheep from the goats (THE judgment).

By the way, about judgment, God is clear that it’s God’s job, not ours—not even the most erudite Bible scholar who can site scripture and verse and eviscerate you and me in a conversation relative to homosexuality as being an abomination gets to judge… just God. Here is what that says:

I was hungry and you gave me no food, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, I was a stranger and you did not welcome me, naked and you did not give me clothing, sick and in prison and you did not visit me.” Then they also will answer, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or naked or sick or in prison, and did not take care of you?” Then he will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did not do it to one of the least of these, you did not do it to me.” (Matthew 25:42-45)

I was gay and you locked the church doors. I wanted to get married to the person to whom I’ve made a life commitment and you said I was a sinner. I came to your church anyway and you did not welcome me, vulnerable and you shunned me…

Truly I tell you, just as you did not love all of my brothers and sisters, you did not love me.

About Stanley Abell

Stan Abell is the head honcho for The Bluevine Collective. On Sunday mornings you will find him pastoring The Garden at Oak Hill in Indianapolis, IN, which is one of the coolest non-traditional church experiences around . . . and not just because Stan is there. Stan earned his Master of Divinity from Christian Theological Seminary. He also has a degree in education from Indiana University Purdue University Indianapolis, which he put to good use teaching high school history for 10 years. He also has an undergraduate degree in journalism from the University of Kentucky. Stan has traveled extensively in developing countries and has a passion for social justice and economic equality issues. Stan’s musical nirvana came in the summer of 2009 when he traveled to Dublin, Ireland to see U2. He is quite certain that Bono has a reciprocal mention of this seminal event in his bio as well.

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My young daughter knows the boundaries of our current neighborhood. The same rules apply to her as applied to my boys.

Being a United Methodist pastor, I am aware of (our founder) John Wesley’s statement that “The world” was his parish. But the truth is, nobody I know of considers the world to be their neighborhood… it’s always a much, much smaller geographic area.

I want to insert this slightly altered (the “our neighborhood… to experience life with us” part is my addition) New Testament Bible verse from the Gospel of John, as taken from the Message translation:

“The Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighborhood…Our Neighborhood…to experience life with us.”

The “Word” here refers to Jesus of Nazareth. The verse suggests that the Spirit of God, in the person of Jesus, shares life with us in our neighborhood.

Here is part of a poem from Peter Putnam that suggests he witnessed Jesus in a Detroit neighborhood in 1993 and following… in the work of the Boggs Educational Center.

He is the cinnamon of my son’s skin
with a green thumb and a Tigers cap
and my daughter’s dove-grey eyes.
He prays into Blair’s guitar,
hangs out on Field St.,
bakes bread at Avalon
and plants tomatoes on the East side.
He rides his old-school bike down the heart
of Grand River,
paints a mural in the Corridor,
shoots hoop in the Valley
with priests and pimps and lean young men
trying to jump their way to heaven.

… born in Providence,
he lives so simply,
he could live anywhere:
Dublin, Palestine, Malibu.
But Detroit is his home.
It was here one Sunday
a boy invited him down
off the cross
and into his house
for a glass of Faygo red pop.

That was centuries ago, it seems,
and how far he’s come,
reinventing himself more times than Malcolm.
He’s been to prison,
been to college,
has a tattoo of Mary Magdalene on one arm,
Judas on the other,
and knows every Stevie Wonder song by heart.

He can say Amen in twelve religions,
believes school is any place
where head and heart and hands
meet,
and wears a gold timepiece around his neck
with no numbers, just a question:
What time is it on the clock of the world?

In my neighborhood! You’re kidding, right? Small world we live in when the Creator of us all can be seen sharing life in our neighborhood. Kinda nice. Kinda scary.

BTW: What time is it on the clock of the world?

About Ned Steele

Ned is sixty-six years old/or young, currently living in Bloomington, IN, and has been a United Methodist clergy person since 1974. He has served as one of the pastors of St. Mark’s Church since 2009. He has also hosted TV and radio programs in past years, delivered mail, interned for a U.S. congressman, and thrown a baseball. He follows the New York Yankees, and Notre Dame football and basketball. Three adult sons and daughters-in-law have enlarged his family by six grandchildren; a soon-to-be teenage daughter still lives at home with himself and Elizabeth.

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Human trafficking. Those words conjure up images of violence, abuse, the unspeakable, the demise of humanity. It is incomprehensible that in 2012, we have to worry about our brothers and sisters in this world kidnapping us, selling us, exploiting us, and even killing us…for a few lousy dollars and a moment of pleasure. You can read the books. You can watch the movies. You can even listen to speakers who have lived through this ordeal. It will affect you and possibly bring you to tears, but the enormity of it will not sink it until you’ve seen it firsthand. I visited red light districts, rescue houses, holding areas, and rehabilitation centers in Kolkata, India just a few weeks ago. These children were 6 years old. 9 years old. Maybe 12. They were trusting, happy kids who were years away from adulthood…and they were scarred in ways that no human being should ever have to speak about. My heart broke into a million pieces as I looked into these innocent faces….now hardened with the realities of life in India.

Prostitution. Man’s inability to control himself…and the impact it has on women. Thailand is known for prostitution and sex tourism. It is known to be a multi-million dollar industry. You can sit on Khao San Road in Bangkok, Walking Street in Pattaya, or any street in Phuket and watch in horror as men from all over the world buy and sell sex and use women as if they were property. These are mostly women from the countryside that come to Bangkok or Phuket hoping to get a job in the hospitality industry and realize that without an education and the ability to speak English, their chances are slim to none. Instead of going home empty handed and defeated, they are lured into prostitution rings and set up for a life of indebtedness, exploitation, and abuse. And all I can do is watch from the sidelines and wonder how we ever got to this point. We stereotype these women. These young, naïve, innocent women doing everything they can to just simply survive and send a few dollars back to the village. My heart breaks that they are looked down upon while the men that pay for sex and keep this industry alive are barely given a smack on the wrist. I feel so helpless, and I push out every image that creeps into my mind of what might be happening to these women behind closed doors…because I don’t know what else I can do.

I spend a great deal of time in Kenya. In fact, it has become my second home. The outpouring of love, support, and genuine compassion for my well-being is felt the moment I step foot on Kenyan soil. I think often of January 2008. The year that Kenya erupted in ethnic clashes after elections went terribly wrong. I watched in horror as villages burned to the ground, youth grabbed machetes and roamed the streets, and people ran for their lives to places of perceived safety. Human beings again at their worst…because of the influence of corrupt politicians only looking out for themselves. Those weeks of violence and the years of reconciliation and rebuilding have remained a huge part of my every day psyche. And so it breaks my heart when I read that people are once again bracing for ethnic clashes in the lead up to the upcoming elections. Part of me naively believes that a people who had teetered on the brink of all out civil war would be extra cautious in their approach to the next elections, but then reality sets in, and I realize we aren’t really in charge of our destiny at all. We are under the influence of those more powerful than us, and we can only hope to survive. If violence does indeed break out again surrounding the next elections, so much more is at stake. I don’t just have projects throughout Kenya…I have family. I have little ones attending the nursery school we built. Old ones waiting in line at the medical clinic we started, and all those in between praying for peace. My heart breaks in anticipation of their safety.

I think about the number 300,000 a lot. That is the estimated number of people that died in the earthquake in Haiti in 2010. 300,000. It’s a number I cannot comprehend no matter how many times I say it out loud. It breaks my heart. Every time I travel to Haiti and watch a people so resilient it blows my mind try to pick up the pieces and start over, I am humbled. A nation with a history of disaster – from earthquakes and hurricanes to cholera, political violence, and oppression – how much more can Haiti endure? The last time I was there, I listened to a Voudou priest explain to me why Haiti suffers so much…he was wise beyond his young years. He explained that the Haitian people are a people with a great history – a people that have been around for many, many years. They have lived their moments of glory and now it is time for them to carry the burden of the rest of the world as it grows up and matures. Many of our world’s greatest nations are young. They are naïve. They are learning how to be responsible…and in the meantime, Haiti will pay for their mistakes. I was affected by this explanation in ways I can’t explain. My worldview was changed and my hope that everything does indeed happen for a reason was strengthened. But my heart breaks for the Haitians alive today that must endure the wrath of our irresponsibility.

I hope this article isn’t too dark…it is simply my reality. I write often of accomplishments, joy, chance encounters, hope for the future…but every once in awhile, life leads you down another path. A path where you are forced to face the images you have encountered on your journey. I hope this is a chance for me to acknowledge what I have seen, to face it head on, and to move forward all the more wise…a chance to pull myself back together and mend my broken heart.

About Kelly Campbell

Kelly Campbell is the owner and co-founder of The Village Experience and Executive Director of The Village Cooperative. Kelly has a BA in Apparel Merchandising and Business and an MA in International Relations with a focus on developing world economies. Kelly has lived and worked in New York, Miami, South Africa, and Kenya. She has traveled to over 40 countries and works on implementing income-generation projects and developing fair trade with women’s groups in rural villages.

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“All Fall Down” ~OneRepublic

Gosh, you know, I really was going to come out this week with both barrels blazing, I really was, but I got derailed… I got stuck. I got sucked into the vortex of stuckedness in which my denomination finds itself.

I had a really snappy title for today’s post: “I’m One of the 39%.” I knew you’d be drawn in to that because it just resembled the whole 1%, 99% thing enough to peak your curiosity. But, you’d quickly realize it wasn’t about that, at all. It was really about the recent decision made by delegates to the General Conference of the United Methodist Church.

Without regaling you with all of the details as interesting as watching paint dry, 39% refers to the Conference’s vote to retain the current language in our Book of Discipline (our Constitution or Rules of Order) about homosexuality. By a vote of 61% to 39%, the Conference voted to maintain the language saying, “The practice of homosexuality is incompatible with Christian teaching.”

Let’s be clear, if you are gay or lesbian, you can come to a Methodist church, because we have “Open Hearts, Open Minds and Open Doors,” according to one of our recent marketing campaigns designed to get people to rush into church. However, what the Discipline’s edict means is that if you are really moved by the Holy Spirit and feel called to ministry, that’s where the journey stops. Do not pass go, do not collect $200, because

Self-avowed practicing homosexuals are not to be certified as candidates, ordained as ministers, or appointed to serve in The United Methodist Church.

So yeah, like I said, I was going to come out with both barrels blazing. I thought about it all weekend, what I wanted to say. I thought of the snappy headline almost immediately, but then after talking with my mom (Presbyterian minister) on the phone, it became clear—oh yeah, this will be a real provocative attention getter… “God is not compatible with Christian teaching.”

You see Mom was reminding me emphatically about how we are all created by God. God is in us, and everything created. While paying attention with the left side of my brain, the right side of my brain was thinking about Genesis 1:27:

So God created humankind in his image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.

Yeah, she’s right, I thought… created by God, in God’s image. Why would God intentionally create something to shun, hate and marginalize? Why would God hate God? Is not a gay person created in the same image as me, as you? Why would we tell God… God you are incompatible with our teachings, and unfit to lead our church?

But then, I got stuck. I read a blog post from friend of the Bluevine, Ned Steele, who is usually pretty outspoken on matters such as these. I looked forward to a pithy little bit of provocative prose. What did I get though, nothing, nada… not a bite. What I got was the wisdom and the frustratingly realistic perspective of someone who has been around this quagmire a while. He was logical, pragmatic and devoid of the emotion I felt this situation requires. He ended his post by making a stunningly obvious observation: But it sure do seem like we is stuck!

Indeed, by a vote of 61% to 39% we are stuck. The reality of this stuckedness is like swimming in quicksand. The more determinedly one thrashes, the quicker one sinks. As Ned pointed out this really is nothing new though, we’ve been stuck in this theological quicksand for 40 years where we started waist-deep. However, the stark reality of this new round of stuck is that we are stuck chest-deep… more likely chin-deep.

For forty years the 61% have fought tooth and nail thinking persuasive argument and scriptural authority would eventually quell the view of the 39%. For forty years, the 39% have fought tooth and nail thinking persuasive argument about historical, literary and social biblical criticism would eventually get the 61% to come around.

This 61% to 39% vote confirmed we’re at an impasse. It confirms that we’re in the quicksand together. Each time a concerted thrash from either side erupts, we sink just a little more.

So no, no both barrels blazing this week. I got derailed… I got stuck. Chin-deep here in the quicksand, it sure do seem like we is stuck.

About Stanley Abell

Stan Abell is the head honcho for The Bluevine Collective. On Sunday mornings you will find him pastoring The Garden at Oak Hill in Indianapolis, IN, which is one of the coolest non-traditional church experiences around . . . and not just because Stan is there. Stan earned his Master of Divinity from Christian Theological Seminary. He also has a degree in education from Indiana University Purdue University Indianapolis, which he put to good use teaching high school history for 10 years. He also has an undergraduate degree in journalism from the University of Kentucky. Stan has traveled extensively in developing countries and has a passion for social justice and economic equality issues. Stan’s musical nirvana came in the summer of 2009 when he traveled to Dublin, Ireland to see U2. He is quite certain that Bono has a reciprocal mention of this seminal event in his bio as well.

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“Make This Go On Forever” ~Snow Patrol

No, that’s not a misprint. It’s supposed to be antonym. Though, “The Anatomy of Doubt” sounds much more intriguing and intellectually rich. Really… I mean antonym. Unless you already beat me to the punch, here they are (antonyms for doubt):

Belief, certainty, confidence, dependence, faith reliance, trust.

Well, that’s an interesting cup of tea. The opposite of doubt is belief and certainty. Huh? It’s just semantics, right? It’s just some linguist trying to rope a word wind, right? Because, when you add certainty to the list, it sounds, well, so certain. I mean, I was okay with confidence and even faith reliance, but certainty?

I don’t doubt confidence, dependence or faith reliance… I do doubt certainty though. I was reading an article the other day where a guy was talking about doubt in a much more positive light than I’m used to hearing it couched. Here’s the line that caught my attention.

To doubt, to interrogate your fear, to really question what you believe, that’s difficult. It’s difficult because we want to protect ourselves from doubt and unknowing. ~ Peter Rollins

And see, I’d add certainty to his list. To interrogate your fear, to really question what you believe is difficult because we want to protect our certainty. Because, what happens if even just the smallest of cracks were to emerge in our certainty? What if even the smallest iota of doubt emerges?  What if we confronted the realization that there are lots of unknowns, and a lot we will never know?

When it comes to our faith, and specifically, very particular tenets of it, I’m confident that the real fear of many believers is that if doubt, unknowing or uncertainty is cast on any one part of the story, then, the whole story begins to unravel.

Say, for instance, what would happen if we didn’t condemn gay people? Because, according to a handful of passages in the Bible about which many are certain, God disapproves of homosexuality, right? And, by logical extension, condemns homosexuals. What would happen if we doubted that?

You see, I doubt that certainty. I know what the Bible says, I’ve read it. I have confidence that there are social, historical and literary criticisms one must consider when taking those handful of Bible passages into account before condemning what God has created.

I doubt those who use scripture to condemn people who are gay because they are certain that their reading of scripture, is, well, certain. And, I have faith reliance that the rest of the story doesn’t unravel because this one part needs some contextual consideration.

Most… many, but not all have tackled and rethought what the Bible says about some previously thought certain positions on, say, the role of women in church and society… on some previously held certain positions about the Bible justifying slavery. Clearly there are certainties in scripture that we’ve somehow rethought, reconsidered… and the bigger story didn’t unravel. God is still God. We are still called by Jesus to acts of compassion and mercy… to love unconditionally. That didn’t unravel.

We have got through so much worse than this before

What’s so different this time that you can’t ignore? 

About Stanley Abell

Stan Abell is the head honcho for The Bluevine Collective. On Sunday mornings you will find him pastoring The Garden at Oak Hill in Indianapolis, IN, which is one of the coolest non-traditional church experiences around . . . and not just because Stan is there. Stan earned his Master of Divinity from Christian Theological Seminary. He also has a degree in education from Indiana University Purdue University Indianapolis, which he put to good use teaching high school history for 10 years. He also has an undergraduate degree in journalism from the University of Kentucky. Stan has traveled extensively in developing countries and has a passion for social justice and economic equality issues. Stan’s musical nirvana came in the summer of 2009 when he traveled to Dublin, Ireland to see U2. He is quite certain that Bono has a reciprocal mention of this seminal event in his bio as well.

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“Peace On Earth” ~U2

I have the flag of my father framed and hanging just behind my desk at home. Actually, it’s a coat of arms. It’s very impressive and, in Latin, it has emblazoned on it, “DE PROFUNDIS IN UNDIS ALTA MARIS.” (Out of the depths in the deep waters of the sea), or something like that.

Yeah, so to hear my grandmother tell the story, we folk are descended directly from Sir Francis Drake (hence the “waters of the sea” part). Oooh, Sir Francis Drake. That sounds pretty impressive doesn’t it? I mean cool, I’m descended from a Sir. However, if you go digging through your history book, you might look upon his Sir with some degree of dubiousness, especially if you are of Spanish heritage.

The Spanish didn’t exactly call him Sir Francis, they called him El Draque, or Draco… The Dragon. You see, in large part, Sir Francis became Sir Francis because he so successfully robbed, plundered and sunk Spanish ships that it generated an enormous source of much needed income for the English. The English loved him. The Spanish, not so much.

Many of his English contemporaries with less loyalty to the crown who were doing the same thing as Sir Francis were called pirates. He though, was dubbed privateer and knighted in 1581 for his value to the crown. He completed the second circumnavigation of the world… that was good.

BUT… Sir Francis Drake also became wealthy as a slaver. He was a willing participant in kidnapping and selling Africans in the West African slave trade. Screech! What? I’m descended from a slave trader? Whoa, that’s not cool. Sir… cool. Slave trader… not cool.

That brings me to more recent past history. I grew up in Paducah, KY, a town that personified the Civil War tragedy of brother against brother. Back in the day, I walked the Shiloh Battle Field, which was the sight of one of the bloodiest battles of the Civil War. The ground truly whispers there if you believe that stuff. There were almost 25,000 casualties, more than 2,500 killed.

Many of the young men wounded or killed on those two days in April 1862 were from Paducah. Several of them were brothers. Several of them fought for the Union… several of them fought for the Confederacy. There were regiments formed in Paducah for both the Union and Confederacy.

I’ve always imagined (assumed, I guess) that the flag under which my forefathers marched was the American flag, the flag of the Union. Honestly, I don’t know though. My people in that neck of the woods came from the dirt of Smithland, Kentucky. Honestly, it could have been either way—Union or Confederacy.

This brings me to my point (he has a point?). Recently I learned from some friends in Paducah that a local chapter of the Sons of Confederate Veterans is planning on flying a Confederate flag in a memorial park on land donated by a man who has Confederate ancestors. Okay, it’s private property; they can do anything they want as long as it’s legal, right? However, did I mention the property is adjacent to Interstate 24? As in right next to the interstate… as in prominently displayed so everyone who passes by on that stretch of the interstate sees it?

Of course the Sons say it’s about honoring their heritage. One of the group’s leaders said, “(The) Confederate battle flag was created only to distinguish units fighting for the South in the Civil War.” Right, and swastika was created only to distinguish…

We can be proud of and honor our ancestors. If you are of Confederate heritage, and you are proud that your ancestors took a stand and fought for, at the time, what they thought to be right… it’s your family. Even if you buy the line that the Civil War wasn’t about slavery, it was about State’s Rights (well, that’s just cockamamie), but at the time… they were fighting for a valued principle.

I get that. BUT, we are not at THAT time. The principled right the ancestors fought for was that no one should be able to tell them what to do with their private property. In this case, that private property was human beings. AND, it’s the ancestors of those human beings that will drive by the flag of the Confederate fathers on Interstate 24.

Really, instead of stars and bars, the flag might as well be a big, extended middle finger. Oh, but you’re right… it IS on private property, and I agree, the government shouldn’t tell you what you can or can’t do on private property… but the government shouldn’t HAVE to tell you what you are doing, that you know is purposefully provoking and hurtful… you shouldn’t do.

Seriously, like you don’t know what that symbolism means at THIS time. If you want to honor your ancestors, honor them. Load your car and take your family to Shiloh Battlefield. Walk the battlefield. Find the yellow and gray plaques that have the names of fallen Confederate soldiers… touch that plaque. Run your fingers over the letters in the names. Weep for what that names represent. Stand in awe of that hallowed ground, then listen…

Listen as the blood-soaked ground whispers to you…. It will tell you of a terrible day when passionate young men, boys… brothers fought and died for their principles. Then, do this… walk the other direction. Find the blue and gray plaques that have the names of fallen Union soldiers… touch that plaque. Run you fingers over the letters in the names. Weep for what those names represent. Then listen… The ground says, “This was my flag, for this time. It’s time to be neighbors and brothers again.”

About Stanley Abell

Stan Abell is the head honcho for The Bluevine Collective. On Sunday mornings you will find him pastoring The Garden at Oak Hill in Indianapolis, IN, which is one of the coolest non-traditional church experiences around . . . and not just because Stan is there. Stan earned his Master of Divinity from Christian Theological Seminary. He also has a degree in education from Indiana University Purdue University Indianapolis, which he put to good use teaching high school history for 10 years. He also has an undergraduate degree in journalism from the University of Kentucky. Stan has traveled extensively in developing countries and has a passion for social justice and economic equality issues. Stan’s musical nirvana came in the summer of 2009 when he traveled to Dublin, Ireland to see U2. He is quite certain that Bono has a reciprocal mention of this seminal event in his bio as well.

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By Robin Howard

Maybe you’ve never heard of Kevin Clash but I bet you’ve heard his voice.

This is Kevin Clash:

And this is Kevin Clash:

Kevin Clash is not just the voice of Elmo, Kevin Clash IS Elmo. When Elmo was born, or sewn or whatever, he had a caveman voice and he was kind of clumsy and annoying. Puppeteers hated him. One day Elmo’s original puppeteer walked into the break room at Sesame Street, threw Elmo at Kevin and said, “See if you can do something with this. I’m done.” So Kevin put his hand in Elmo, they looked at each other and Elmo said “Hi! Elmo loves you!” in that heart-melting voice that makes bikers and thugs forget they’re supposed to be mean and very cool.

In the documentary Being Elmo, Kevin says:

“Elmo is about love.”

Then they cut to a montage of people of every race and age and disposition grinning like fools and hugging Elmo. Even though they can see that Kevin is right there and Elmo’s voice is coming from some large, imposing dude who looks like he could hurt you.

Kevin’s intention is to spread love through Elmo and I think it’s safe to say that worked out pretty good for everyone. The other Muppets are loveable and funny, but Elmo is a force. He’s an ambassador.

So, Muppet lesson #1: Think about the intention for the work that you do. If it’s to somehow to spread love or peace or anything else good, it’s going to work out for everyone.

But, as in all good stories, there was a heart-wrenching twist along the way for Kevin. Since he saw his first Muppet at the age of 9, his dream was to work with Jim Henson. A series of hard-working and fortunate events occurred that eventually landed Kevin in Jim’s office where Jim wanted to hire him to be a puppeteer on a little movie called The Dark Crystal. (A certain demographic of readers will need a moment to collect themselves at this prospect, so let’s all just have a breath on our own while the 80s kids squeak.)

Kevin turned it down.

Why? Because he was doing two series shows that were “sure things”; a morning show called “Space Coaster” (huh?) and another called “Captain Kangaroo.” He left Jim’s office feeling sick, as well he should because both sure things were promptly cancelled and Kevin didn’t have a movie thing or a sure thing.

Muppet lesson #2: There are no sure things. At some point in your life, you’re going to have to do something scary with good intentions and then have faith. There are absolutely no exceptions.

Thankfully, there’s an encore lesson:

A little later on, Jim called Kevin and asked if he’d like to do a little movie called “Labyrinth” (go ahead, we’ll wait….) and Kevin emphatically said what you would say if you were about to work with Muppets and David Bowie and Jim Henson and Frank Oz, appropriate or not.

Muppet lesson #3: Don’t be afraid to make a mistake and don’t ever, ever, ever give up. There are second chances. And third chances. And sixteenth chances. And those chances are going to look different than the first chance, but they’re going to hold magic all their own.

About Robin Howard

Robin Howard is a writer, artist, yoga teacher, anthropologist and traveler on a mission to start a Happy Revolution. She is author of the free eBook Happy Sutra: 52 Surprising Ways to Get Happier and co-author of the happy little travel blog Bagette.

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By Ned Steele

What does Jesus look like these days? Now there’s a big question in search of a big answer. Or, there’s a mysterious question in search of a revealing answer. Or, there’s a silly question because nobody knows the answer.  Yeah.  There is all that.

I grew up with my picture of what Jesus looked like being answered by Warner Sallman.  Sallman’s “Head of Christ” hung on the wall just outside the minister’s office at Lydick Evangelical United Brethren Church where I attended until I was 18 years old.  The original painting was done in 1941.

Later in life I saw a painting of Jesus laughing.  (There are many of them around, so I won’t name just one artist.)

Later still, I was introduced to a wonderful picture of a Black Jesus.

To this day my favorite picture of Jesus comes from the movie, “The Last Temptation of Christ.”  The movie was an adaptation of the novel by Nikos Kazantzakis.  It was directed by Martin Scorsese, and starred Willem Dafoe in the title role.  (When that movie was released there were folks picketing it… outside the theatre nearest my north side Indianapolis home; so, of course, I had to go see it!)

I have no way of knowing what Jesus looked like when he walked this earth.  And I have no way of knowing what Jesus looks like today.  Except.

Except for this:  “There are people in the world so hungry, that God cannot appear to them except in the form of bread.”  Mahatma Gandhi said that.  Perhaps Jesus looks like bread.  (I used the name “Jesus” in place of Gandhi’s word “God” because Jesus is the best-known-to-me human presentation of God.  No doubt, there are other presentations, better-known to other folks.)

And I got to thinking:

• There are people in the world so sick or so injured, that Jesus cannot appear to them except in the form of healing and wellness.
• There are people in the world that have been homeless so long, that Jesus cannot appear to them except in the form of a home of their own.
• There are people in this world that are so addicted to alcohol or chemicals or pain-relievers, that Jesus cannot appear to them except in the form of sobriety.
• There are people in this world so alone and lonely, that Jesus cannot appear to them except in the form of a friend.
• There are people in this world so oppressed, that Jesus cannot appear to them except in the form of freedom.

So, come to think about it a bit more, maybe we do know what Jesus looks like these days.  Maybe.

About The Bluevine Collective

The Bluevine Collective is an open community seeking purpose by exploring life and faith questions in order to live out our core values through compassionate, peaceful and just action.

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Soul
Searching

By Stanley Abell

Heaven on Earth, we need it now
I’m sick of all of this hanging around
Sick of sorrow, sick of the pain
I’m sick of hearing again and again
That there’s gonna be peace on Earth

Peace On Earth ~U2

Well, conversation is happening. Awkward, clumsy, misshapen, uncomfortable, honest and sometimes ugly… but conversation is happening. And, it has to happen this way. If we already agreed with each other on everything, there’d be no need for these uncomfortable conversations.

If the case of Trayvon Martin has done nothing else, it sure has stirred the proverbial pot. It has polarized people… and let me tell you, we the people didn’t really need that much help in that area anyway. We’ve been looking askance at each other from our Tea Parties and Wall Street Occupancies for quite some time. This though, is different.

There is a unique frustration the Trayvon Martin case has exposed. As much as many people don’t want this to be about race… it’s about race, still. In 1955, a 14 year-old, African-American boy from Chicago was murdered under exceedingly suspicious circumstances in Mississippi. While there are obvious differences in the case, there are eerie similarities.

In his summary article The Lynching of Emmett Till, author Chris Crowe said the following:

“In response to the widespread claims in the northern and African-American press that Emmett Till’s murder was a racist-inspired lynching, Mississippi Governor Hugh White denied that race was a factor in the crime. “This is not a lynching,” he told reporters. “It is straight out murder.”

Like the Trayvon Martin killing, there are unknown/unclear facts about just what happened in the tragic last moments of his life. Emmett Till’s mutilated body was found in the Tallahatchie River weighed down by a cotton gin fan with barbed wire strung around his neck.

Exactly how he got there, and how it happened is unclear. Those accused of the crime were acquitted. What is absolutely clear, beyond a shadow of a doubt, regardless of what the governor said, Emmett Till was killed because he was black.

We may never know exactly what happened to Trayvon Martin. What we do know is that he is dead because he was sought out and tracked down because he was a young black man wearing a hoodie. We can dress it up and justify it with “Stand Your Ground,” self-defense, or any number of other explanations. The sober, and frustrating reality is… Trayvon Martin is dead, because he was black.

It is frustrating because so many people, especially white people, want civil rights, discrimination and bias to be over with. Didn’t we do that in the 1960s? Can’t these people get over it? When will they stop being victims?

For many people of color, this is frustrating because they have lived the straight line between Emmett Till and Trayvon Martin. They have been pulled over in their cars by police for no reason other than being black. They continue to have to have “The Talk” with their sons. They are stalked by store security and clerks as they shop in malls and stores.

Take a guess… 1955 or 2012? “People realized that race relations had declined to such a low level, that even children were no longer safe from racist violence.” If you guessed 1955, you’d be right. If you guessed 2012, you’d be right.

If there is any agreement at all about race, everyone, regardless of color, wishes it weren’t about race, still. This is the epicenter of frustration (for vastly different reasons), and the epicenter of the emerging, awkward, clumsy, misshapen, uncomfortable, honest and sometimes ugly conversations… but, conversations nonetheless. We have to start somewhere, right?

About Stanley Abell

Stan Abell is the head honcho for The Bluevine Collective. On Sunday mornings you will find him pastoring The Garden at Oak Hill in Indianapolis, IN, which is one of the coolest non-traditional church experiences around . . . and not just because Stan is there. Stan earned his Master of Divinity from Christian Theological Seminary. He also has a degree in education from Indiana University Purdue University Indianapolis, which he put to good use teaching high school history for 10 years. He also has an undergraduate degree in journalism from the University of Kentucky. Stan has traveled extensively in developing countries and has a passion for social justice and economic equality issues. Stan’s musical nirvana came in the summer of 2009 when he traveled to Dublin, Ireland to see U2. He is quite certain that Bono has a reciprocal mention of this seminal event in his bio as well.

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