A Defense of It’s a Wonderful Life

I always dismissed Frank Capra’s It’s a Wonderful Life as schmaltz until I married a woman who considered it her favorite movie. She made me watch it with her one Christmas, and I realized that I had always missed the first two-thirds of the movie. For years, I would stumble upon the movie while flipping channels and inevitably hit the final act only, usually about the time George Bailey meets his guardian angel Clarence. 

I missed so many wonderful scenes that make the final act so meaningful. I never saw George Bailey growing up and falling in love with Mary Hatch. I missed the scene where a young George prevents his grieving pharmacist boss from accidentally poisoning customers. I’d missed the school dance where everyone falls in the pool. I missed George offering to lasso the moon for Mary. I missed the run on Bailey Savings and Loan where at the end of the day they are able to remain in business, because they still had “Momma dollar and Papa dollar.” I even missed mean old Mr. Potter absconding with the deposit left by George’s absentminded uncle.

Most of all, I missed the scene where George confesses his love for Mary, perhaps one of the most romantic scenes ever put on film. George has just broken things off with Mary, because he is finally going to leave boring Bedford Falls to travel the world when a phone call comes from Sam Wainwright. Standing inches from one another, they listen to Sam offering George a job that’s a “chance of a lifetime.”  Standing so close to Mary can’t resist confessing his love for her in a somewhat alarming way. He grabs Mary's shoulders and shakes her yelling, “I don’t want to get married to anyone! I want to do what I want to do!” Then he embraces her and kisses her fiercely revealing whatever the words coming out of his mouth he really wants a life with Mary. Mary is his “chance of a lifetime.’

The scene when George declares his intentions of leaving Bedford Falls while at the same time proving through his actions his love for Mary epitomizes George’s struggle. George’s inner conflict causes his existential crisis later in the film. He ends up wishing he had never been born and therefore provokes Clarence the angel’s experiment to show George what the world would be like without him. This inner dilemma is why the film, despite its dismal box office performance, would become a classic decades later. Who hasn’t wrestled with the conflict between the life one dreams about and the life one actually possesses? Which of us hasn’t acted for good or for ill in contrast to our stated convictions? The road not taken always seems more glamorous in moments of struggle, because it remains a fantasy unblemished by the difficulties of living this life.

One doesn’t have to look hard to find criticisms and dismissals of It’s a Wonderful Life. I always wonder when I read such opinions if the critic has only seen part of the movie, as I once had. Sure the movie is super White and Bedford Falls may look boring compared to the nightlife of Potterville and the happy ending lacks the gravitas of tragedies, but I declare that the reason this movie remains a classic is because it is far deeper than the Hallmark Christmas movies and their copycats so popular today. For all that George Bailey does to help his neighbors in Bedford Falls, he is a deeply conflicted and flawed character. He acts in noble and selfless ways, yet takes no joy in his existence, always resenting missed opportunities and the weight of responsibility. It takes supernatural intervention for him to begin to find inner peace.

One recent negative review of the film stated that it was all about individualism and presents an inflated idea of its protagonist’s influence. I disagree. In his years supporting housing for immigrants and working class families George fends off the predations of Mr. Potter. He has worked to help his whole community prosper. Yet, this giving is not a one way street. In the end, George who has been the bestower of grace to his community is saved by the grace of his community as they all bail out his failing Savings and Loan. The giver becomes the recipient. The film’s protagonist is redeemed by the community around him. He achieves a semblance of inner peace when he discovers the richness of his relationships.

I propose that we love stories like It’s a Wonderful Life for the same reason we love all good stories. They reveal to us our need for interconnection and relationship. Our illusions of being self-made or fully self-sufficient are just that, illusions. This is why we need to retell the nativity story each year. We need reminding that we do not exist unto ourselves but rather as a part of a vast fabric of creation with our Creator, who doesn’t stand off from us but comes near to us as Emanuel, God with us. We hold onto the image of the nativity–parents gathered around a child, witnesses from the community who are present despite their lowly status and stable animals standing in for all creation–because it points us towards the deepest need we have–connection with others. 

George Bailey believed he was an adventurer set to travel the world in heroic solitude, but he discovered the joy found in relationships of mutual care. When we discover the gift of relationship and community, we see that it really is a wonderful life.

Grace and Peace,

Chase

Is Thanksgiving Really About Thanksgiving?

The national holiday Thanksgiving has to do with a lot of things that may or may not include gratitude, such as food, football, family, shopping and arguing with your family about food, football, family and shopping. Sure, there’s the obligatory moment to pause for a prayer before the overeating begins, but really, we’ve got other things on our minds. There is a difference between Thanksgiving with a capital “T” and thanksgiving with a lowercase ‘t”. The lowercase kind of thanksgiving occurs every day if our hearts and minds remain focused on our blessings rather than our resentments. For the Christian, every day is a day for thanksgiving.

My text for Sunday was Colossians 3:12-17 where the Apostle Paul gives instructions for Christian behavior. He caps off his list of instructions with the words “and be thankful.” (all quotations from NRSV) In case there is any doubt about what a Christian’s thanksgiving should look like, he goes on to say, “And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.” Every moment is a moment for thanksgiving. We may not be thankful for everything that happens to us—quite the contrary!—but blessings remain even in our most difficult circumstances. Remembering reasons to be thankful may be the best strategy for enduring the painful moments in life.

It's worth noting why Paul says a Christian should be thankful. He begins his list of instructions for Christian behavior with the words, “As God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved. . . “ Paul reminds his audience they have been chosen by God. Down through the centuries, the word ‘chosen” in the New Testament has sparked all sorts of theological debates about predestination, Christianity’s relationship to Judaism, etc., but I prefer interpretations that deal with the social situation of the Colossian Christians. They needed to be included.

At the time Paul wrote his letter, the Roman Empire experienced rapid urbanization. The policies of Rome resulted in people moving from rural communities where people were known as a part of family and clan to urban centers where they were alienated and alone. These migrants were of the lower classes ignored by people of money and power. The early house churches quickly grew because people were hungry to be included in a community. They discovered that in Christ, as Paul explains, “there is no longer Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave and free.” They belonged. They were chosen.

Folks who have been in churches for a long time forget the blessing of being “chosen” or welcomed into a community. This is why churches die, because they forget their purpose is to welcome the alienated and unknown into community and choose instead to become a private club. Similarly, those of us blessed with families can become so consumed with the joys and the stresses of holiday gatherings we take no notice of those who are alone on such days. Not every family is healthy enough to welcome outsiders to their holiday tables, but I always admire the ones who do.

You may have read about the grandmother who in 2016 attempted to text her grandson about coming over for Thanksgiving dinner but texted a complete stranger instead. When Wanda Dench mistakenly texted Jamal Hinton, he explained he wasn’t her grandson but joked, “Can I still get a plate?” Dench replied, “Of course you can! That’s what grandmas do. We feed everyone.” Hinton quickly understood Hinton was serious and decided to join her and her family for Thanksgiving. Six years later, Jamal and his girlfriend are still attending Thanksgiving dinner with the Denchs. They have received national press coverage and thousands of followers on social media who count down the days each year until Thanksgiving. People love this story, because everyone wants to be invited, included, and chosen. It speaks to the truth embedded in the cosmos that we—all of us—are chosen by our Creator.

As a pastor, I am well aware during the holiday season that not everyone is feeling festive and bright. There are people isolated from family and many who experience grief over loved ones who have died. I need you to know that whether or not you have a place to go this Thanksgiving, you are chosen by God. The pain of this life may leave one doubting this chosen-ness, but it is real nonetheless. Henri Nouwen explains this truth well in his book The Life of the Beloved:

“Every time you feel hurt, offended, or rejected, you have to dare to say to yourself: “These feelings, strong as they may be, are not telling me the truth about myself. The truth, even though I cannot feel it right now, is that I am the chosen child of God, precious in God’s eyes, called the Beloved from all eternity, and held safe in an everlasting embrace.””

May your every day be a day of thanksgiving because God has chosen you!

Grace and Peace,
Chase

When Churches are Dying, Does It Matter What Denomination We Are?

I wrote this for the newsletter of the church I am currently serving, Park Hill Christian Church, Disciples of Christ in Kansas City, MO. It's an answer to questions I've had from laypeople regarding whether being a part of our denomination matters anymore. I have no idea if this is meaningful for any other DOC church or for that matter for someone of another denomination or of no faith tradition at all, but I'm sharing it here in case its helpful.

When I went to seminary in the mid-nineties, church historians were already saying denominations were dying. The decades since have borne their words out. Denominational agencies, structures and missions have fallen away as church memberships and financial contributions have declined. As the generation born just before and during WWII enter their final decades, the dramatic upswing in church attendance and membership experienced after WWII goes with them. From the Baby Boomers forward, younger generations just haven’t cared much about the differences between churches, if they care about churches at all. It is a more than fair question to ask, “Why should a church be a part of a denomination?” and more specifically for Park Hill Christian, Church, “Why should we be a part of the Christian Church, (Disciples of Christ)?”

My answer to both questions essentially comes down to both yes and no. First the “no.”

No, in many ways, denominations don’t matter, especially as church as we have known it fades away. When the house is on fire, taking time to argue about the proper form of firefighting seems senseless. What good is it to argue methodology and ideology as things burn down around you? Also, even if churches were not in their current declining state, there is a certain arrogance to arguing about denominations. If the God we worship is indeed the God of all people, and the Spirit of Christ blows where it wills, who are we mortals to ever presume we possess the one and only truth? For such a great God, how dare we declare our way of being Christian is the only way of being Christian?

On the other hand, yes, things like accountability, preventing abuse of all kinds, avoiding the lure of celebrity clergy, and even avoiding unhealthy religion such as practiced by groups generally called “cults” means boundaries are needed and how we do things does matter. Striking a balance between arrogant legalism on one extreme and relativistic free-for-all on the other extreme is necessary if anything like healthy religion can be found in Christianity.

My answer to finding some kind of middle ground between too much and too little emphasis upon denomination has been to claim two denominations, the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) and the United Church of Christ. (I’ll stick to the former since I am addressing PHCC.) The Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) allows individual believers and individual congregations maximum freedom in practice, belief and responsibility, but expects both believers and congregations to exist in a covenant relationship with others in their denomination. That covenant relationship means accountability, shared mission/outreach, and shared resources. Of course, because of the amount of freedom allowed, the covenant part often doesn’t work well, but that is due to the misuse of freedom by individuals and congregations rather than a fault of the structure itself.

(I should add the caveat that I've known plenty of churches who are a part of my two denominations that have failed the covenant test. I have also known of purposefully non-denominational congregations which have done well things like accountability, preventing abuse, partnering with other congregations, etc. What I am describing is my particular journey and my answer to whether or not being a part of a denomination matters.)

In sum, I choose the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), because it allows for freedom within healthy relationships. This balance is shown even in the name of the denomination. Its origins occurred in two 19th century American religious movements which happened simultaneously in Kentucky and Pennsylvania. Both groups rejected the rigid denominationalism of their day and sought to “restore” early Christianity. One group simply called itself “Christian” and the other group called itself “Disciples of Christ.” When they merged both names were kept.

Christian—refers to the understanding that all believers have direct relationships with God based upon their reading of scripture rather than on creeds or doctrine. This freedom is always understood to exist in community lest it become individualistic to the point of narcissism.

Disciples of Christ—refers to the understanding that many people claim to be “Christian” due to their family of birth, cultural identity or even country of origin, but being a disciple necessarily involves a relationship with Christ lived out in communion with other believers.

The freedom and covenant relationship of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) are necessary principles, especially for today’s world. I want to be a part of a church that is generous towards other believers, members of other religion and none. I want a church that recognizes no one person, one interpretation of scripture or one understanding of tradition, creeds and confessions contains all truth. In our global culture, we can no longer assume the way “we” do things is the best or only way. The dangers of churches that exclude, harm and abuse people demand that we act with humility about what we believe and remain open to the possibility our beliefs are incomplete or even wrong.

American culture is dangerously polarized, and we are losing settings where people of differing political beliefs can be together to transcend difference and remember our common humanity. Our kind of church necessitates finding such common ground. We share an open communion table where all are welcome, no exceptions. We don’t require new members to confess a list of beliefs, be baptized a certain way or to adhere to particular stances on politics or social controversies. We lay down our idols of politics, partisanship and division in order to worship Christ together.

Early members of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) claimed mottos like “No creed but Christ” and “Unity not uniformity” which have special relevance today. In a day where churches have equated being Christian with voting for a particular political party or adhering to the talking points of cable news pundits, our denomination declares itself a “movement for wholeness in a fragmented world.”

In our current religious landscape (only heightened by Covid), the minority of people interested in being a part of a church seem to be flocking to congregations offering the best show. The best production values, praise band and preacher have trumped values, integrity and authenticity. As churches fear dying—a legitimate concern—they must remember there are worse fates than death. Being a part of churches that refuse leadership to women, condemn LGBTQ people, continue racist practices and promote politics above people means, in my book, being something other than Christian. I continue to believe there is a way to be church that allows for freedom and does so with integrity and health. The best way I have found to do so is in the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ).

Grace and Peace, Rev. Chase Peeples

Thou Shalt Not Covet Thy Neighbor’s Church

Coveting is one of the 10 Commandments, but we don’t treat it like it’s in God’s Top Ten List. All we do is covet. If you’re not familiar with the term “covet,” it refers to wanting what your neighbor has--not in the sense of merely liking what they have but wanting it so bad that you fail to appreciate what you have, so bad you want to have it and you want them not to have it. It’s a matter of status and control. It’s a desire strong enough that it leads to action at whatever the cost. When one covets, there isn’t enjoyment of the thing in itself, but rather enjoyment of others not having what you have, enjoyment of others being jealous of you. It’s an ego trip to a self-centered destination.

The actual verse in the Ten Commandments (Exodus 20:17) says, “You shall not covet your neighbor’s house; you shall not covet your neighbor’s wife, or male or female slave, or ox, or donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbor.” Although coveting your neighbor’s church isn’t on the list, I’ve learned it should be.

A United Church of Christ minister named Rev. Michelle Torrigan penned a blog post about ministers coveting other ministers’ churches and asked clergy to consider they were called to the ministry they were at. Instead of spending one’s energy coveting what other churches are doing, why not spend that energy on improving where you are at? Ever since I read Torrigan’s blog post, I’ve thought about my own tendency to wish for other places of ministry with more status, more members, more money, more young families, more and more whatever. It’s an indicting self-realization. I believe the same is true for laypeople when it comes to churches.

Recently, I preached on the pursuit of status. I shared that we all compare ourselves to others. We take shortcuts to building our self-esteem by looking down on others, but by those standards you inevitably must realize you may be “above” some but you are also “below” many others. It’s a no-win game. No matter how much your status rises in whatever arena matters to you, it is never enough. You are always below somebody. Instead of being grateful for what you do have and enjoying life, you are constantly feeling inadequate and afraid of falling down the ladder of status.

Because the status game, otherwise known as coveting, is all about oneself, it is inherently self-centered and not in a self-care healthy sort of way. When it is applied to churches, then one is never at church for the right reasons--namely, worshipping God and living in loving community. Instead, one is there as a consumer to get and never give. It’s all about whether the music, sermon, etc. made you feel good, gave you an emotional fix and enabled you to go about your life without sacrificing anything.

In every church I have served, I have watched people move in and out. They show up looking for an emotional fix and when they inevitably stop getting it, they move on to another church. When they get involved and inevitably see a church is made up of broken people just like them, it’s too messy, so they move on. 

In some ways, the transitory ones are preferable to the folks who stay but always complain. They visit other churches and see things they like (never looking below the surface, never questioning the superficiality, never questioning the lousy theology) and then stay in a cycle of negativity complaining but never working to make their church any better. It’s so much easier to covet what the church down the block has than to actually be involved in the messiness of real intimacy in one’s own. Coveting doesn’t require a sacrifice of time, money, energy or empathy. It feels good in that dopamine-firing kind of way but it never feeds the hunger of an empty soul.

In the churches I've served, I’ve heard lots about what other churches are doing. I’ve heard a lot about how former pastors just weren’t charismatic enough, dynamic enough, and talented enough to attract people the way other ministers do--and I guess i became one of the former pastors who weren't enough. I’ve heard about so much fear about the church dying and how we don’t have enough young families and youth and children. I’ve heard a whole lot about coveting other churches, but I haven’t heard very much at all about what people are willing to do to invest themselves in the church they are at.

I wonder what would happen if the people who currently consider themselves members of a church spent the same amount of energy showing up and investing themselves in community as they did comparing their church to other churches--usually megachurches that no small church can "compete" with in terms of money and program. If the folks coveting other churches actually invested in their current one, they might actually have a church they’d want to go to--that is if they really want to go to church for the right reasons: worshipping God and living in loving community. If it’s just a matter of making you feel better, there are plenty of churches to offer you that--but none of that stuff will feed your hungry soul.

Don’t get me wrong, there are lots of things the average congregation could learn from other churches--even megachurches, but ultimately everything the average church needs to be the church God calls it to be is already present--IF folks will do more than covet.

Grace and Peace,
Rev. Chase Peeples

When Our Secret Lives Become Not So Secret

I wrote this for my church newsletter column on 10-14-21, the week Las Vegas Raiders coach John Gruden resigned after his emails were leaked. Two weeks later it is difficult to remember this story was a thing, but I'm still posting what I wrote here in hopes it's meaningful to someone.

There is nothing concealed that will not be disclosed, or hidden that will not be made known. What you have said in the dark will be heard in the daylight, and what you have whispered in the ear in the inner rooms will be proclaimed from the roofs.
--Luke 12:2-3 NIV

I can’t be the only minister thinking about these words of Jesus this week. It is tempting to write a sermon (or church newsletter column) about this week’s news. As a lifelong Kansas City Chiefs fan, it is nearly impossible for me to feel sorry for anybody in the Las Vegas Raiders organization (they will always be the Oakland Raiders to me), and I have to just shake my head in wonder at the resignation of Raiders coach John Gruden. The friendly guy in the Corona commercials turned out to be pretty darn racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic and probably every other kind of -phobic and -ist once the world got to read his emails from over the last decade. As Jesus declared (sort of), “What is typed in your private email shall be leaked to the media.”

Before “Yeah, but what about . . .” escapes your mouth, let me state a few things.

All the people quoting Jesus this week regarding this story have a point. “Let anyone among you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone . . .” Which one of us would want our own emails, texts or deleted social media posts and tweets broadcast to the world? I’m old enough to remember life before the internet, smartphones and social media. My college friends and I all agree that if social media had been around back in the day when we were young and stupid(er), none of us would be employable. We have a solemn compact that the print pictures and videos from those days must be destroyed or hidden somewhere with Raiders of the Lost Ark-level booby traps. All of us have moments where se have said or done lousy things that we wouldn’t want broadcast. God forbid the whole of our lives is summed up by our worst moments.

Also, Gruden is a scapegoat, a guilty scapegoat but still a scapegoat. Reporters and columnists are rightfully pointing out that somebody leaked Gruden’s emails to ruin his career, but there are hundreds of thousands of emails which currently remain hidden. Who knows what other NFL owners, coaches and general managers have written in their emails? Just ask last week’s NFL scandal, Urban Meyer, coach of the Jacksonville Jaguars, who was filmed dirty dancing with a young woman—not his wife—when he lied to his team and said he was visiting his grandkids. In an era where one person with a phone can take a picture or video and instantly send it around the world, hypocrites should beware.

This latest scandal connects with a long line of public figures caught with their public personas not matching up with their private behavior. Whether it is in entertainment (Bill Cosby, Woody Allen, Harvey Weinstein, Lori Loughlin, etc.), politicians (Donald Trump, Bill Clinton, Andrew Cuomo, Matt Gaetz, etc.) athletics (US gymnastics, the Houston Astros, Robert Kraft, etc.) or business (Wells Fargo, Jeffrey Epstein, Tesla, etc.) there is plenty of unethical behavior to go around. What remains hidden is unquantifiable but surely awful. What should the consequences be when this terrible stuff gets revealed?

A current toxic political kerfuffle arrives in the form of so-called “cancel culture.” I won’t wade into it except to say as a Christian minister I believe in two concepts that may be relevant: grace and repentance.

Grace involves the love and forgiveness God offers to us which we cannot earn and do not deserve. Yet, God’s grace does not always free us from earthly consequences for our unethical actions. Scripture consistently declares that God detests false apologies and empty words from insincere people whose lousy deeds come to light.  

Likewise, true repentance involves acknowledging one’s moral failures, accepting the consequences of those failures being found out, seeking to make restitution and committing to not repeat them. No, I don’t think a person’s professional life should be irreparably harmed due to a single bad email or tweet, but patterns of behavior (such as Gruden’s and presumably many other higher ups in the NFL) remain a different matter. I believe God loves John Gruden, stands ready to forgive him and desires for him to grow and change from this experience, and I also think a person in power cannot exercise that power ethically while holding the beliefs revealed in Gruden’s emails. Caring people can only hope this experience causes Gruden to do better than empty phrases like “I don’t have a racist bone in my body” or “I never meant to hurt anybody.”

Most of us aren’t going to hold positions in the public eye, but all of us must constantly assess whether our private beliefs and behavior match what we present to the outside world. Jesus taught that we are our best selves when our actions match what is in our hearts and when our deeds match our convictions. Jesus taught us about the dangers of the divided self and desires for us to live lives of wholeness. Sometimes we are wise enough to see the divisions and change them with God’s help before the consequences become devastating to our lives. Other times, we remain stubborn and prideful and refuse to do so. In such cases, God’s grace may come to us in the form of a public disgrace. I call such painful moments grace, because sometimes it is only when we feel the pain of our broken behavior intensely that we are willing to change for the better.

When our secret lives are revealed resulting in a crash and burn moment, we can be thankful God is there to offer grace and help us change for the better. I believe God’s grace and transforming power is available to everyone, even people wearing clothing with Raiders logos.

Grace and Peace,
Rev. Chase Peeples

What Churches Can Learn From Public Libraries

I am approaching the third anniversary of the morning my mother died from an inoperable brain tumor. I’ve been thinking about her more than usual as this date approaches. Some of the best memories of my mother are of our regular trips to the public library when I was a child.

My mother was a lifelong avid reader who would bring home piles of books to read. Near the end of her life, she shared with me how it grated on her as a child when the librarian in her small Arkansas town refused to allow her to check out books she was interested in, because they were books about subjects for boys not girls. Perhaps that’s why she encouraged me to check out whatever books I wanted. I would come home with stacks of books so tall there was no way I could ever finish them, but my mother never minded. I learned libraries are magical places. Just imagine a place where you can take home as much as you like for free with the only requirement being you must bring it back so the next person can do the same.

Magic.

It’s too bad most American churches refuse to function in a similar way. Our giving to our communities comes with strings attached. We offer worship services, programs and ministries explicitly for free, but the implicit expectations are those who partake of what we offer will join our churches, increase our membership rolls, raise our attendance figures and most importantly give to our budgets. The almighty figures of weekly attendance and contributions drive everything we do. Given Jesus’ selfless giving of his very life, one might think we would know better.

I realize libraries are funded by taxes, have membership drives and take donations, but everyone knows what their mission is--to serve their communities. I expect most people would say the same is not true for churches. Declining numbers and budgets have only heightened the anxiety of congregations and led churches to adopt bunker mentalities. We are less likely to serve the people around us. Our communities rightly understand we serve them for our own selfish reasons.

Sociologists, community planners and social service providers have declared we are losing so-called “third spaces” in our communities. Third spaces are places where people spend time and build relationships other than home (first place) and work (second place). Traditionally third spaces could be houses of worship, community centers, barber shops and hairdressers, coffee shops and bars, and yes, libraries. Yet, the combination of zoning which isolates people by income, age, race, etc. along with technology allowing for online connection, shopping, entertainment etc. has led to dwindling numbers of third places. Architects, planners and government leaders have learned that communities without third places lead to social isolation (especially for seniors) and declines in community health of every sort.

Public libraries continue to meet this need for a third place in all kinds of ways besides the very important service of supplying free books, periodicals and similar material. A University of Pennsylvania study described public libraries as “dynamic, social responsive institutions, a nexus of diversity, and a lifeline for the most vulnerable among us.” (When was the last time you heard a church described that way?) Libraries partner with area health systems and social services to address community needs. They  provide “neutral” meeting spaces and public events responding to community demand. They offer literacy programs, assistance to immigrants, programs for children, support to LGBTQ people and people with disabilities. They provide access to technology many people cannot otherwise access including internet access, computers and printers. Libraries even help feed their communities via community gardens, farmers markets and nutrition programs. The list of creative services libraries provide is endless.

One of the greatest things libraries offer their communities is grace. In our commodified society where everything has a price and most interactions are transactional, libraries are the exception. You can use a library whoever you are even if you do not pay taxes to support it. Increasingly libraries are doing away with fines, because they realize the fines penalize the people who need library services the most. In a society intent on trying to sell us something at every turn, libraries remind us of how great it is to share, borrow and return things. We don’t have to get everything from an Amazon van and then pay for a storage unit to hold all our stuff we didn’t need in the first place. Instead, we can simply borrow it from the library and return it--for free! 

90% of Americans describe their local library as “friendly and welcoming.” Two thirds of Americans say closing of their local library would have a major impact on their community. 50% said they had visited their local library in the last six months. As a local minister, I can tell you the chances of your average church getting such good ratings is slim and none. Maybe it is time we consider why this is the case.

Grace and Peace,

Rev. Chase Peeples

P.S.--I wrote this piece for my congregation's oct. 7 church newsletter before I read this wonderful essay published in Christian Century which makes much the same point.

The Miseducation of White People

and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free. --John 8:32 NRSV

You have probably heard the expression “the truth shall set you free” which is spoken by Jesus in the Gospel of John. For many American Christians, the “truth” Jesus speaks of here is an individual ticket to heaven which has nothing to do with the here and now or wider social issues. This is bad theology and bad interpretation of scripture.

Jesus is indeed talking about a “truth” that will save people from sin, but as John makes clear from its opening words, the salvation offered in Jesus Christ is for the world not just individuals who say the magic words of a prayer Americans made up centuries later. Jesus speaks of an “eternal life” beginning in the here and now as people who understand who Jesus is have their lives and the world around them transformed. Who is Jesus? For John, Jesus is the message of God’s love for the entire created world, a love which is radically inclusive of all people. 

The truth of God’s saving love exposes the lies of sins which oppress, exclude and destroy. We are in a truth-telling moment in our society, and the lies are being exposed which many of us were taught as history. We White folks were sold a sinful lie for our history, and now our reaction to God’s truth will determine whether we are free from these sins or not.

In the past few days, Tulsa, OK has commemorated the 100-year anniversary of the massacre of African Americans at Greenwood nicknamed “Black Wall Street” because of the wealth Black people were accumulating there. I was raised in the Midwest, an easy drive from Tulsa, and I had never heard the story of this massacre until a 2019 TV show about superheroes included it in its narrative. Likewise, I never learned about Missouri being full of “sundown” towns where African Americans found in them after sunset were arrested and even killed. I grew up in St. Louis and Kansas City but never learned about housing segregation and redlining which divided the cities and allowed White people to accumulate generational wealth and denied the same to Black people. I wasn’t taught these things. Were you?

Similarly, I learned in school about “race riots” in the sixties, but I never learned about White riots in which Black people were massacred like Wilmington and Rosewood. I learned that the cause of the Civil War was “States Rights” rather than slavery, even though slavery was explicitly mentioned in the articles of secession of southern states. I learned that George Washington’s teeth were made of wood and never that his false teeth came from the actual teeth of slaves. I wasn’t taught these things. Were you?

Now that I am learning the truth about the racist history of America, I have a choice. I can allow this truth to free me from the sins of racism and the lies of a “Whites Only” creation of history or I can remain a captive of sin. Even now, sections of White America react to these truths with anger and even violence, as if they are the true victims of a new history being written. This is a lie that holds White people captive to sin. The real victims are the named and unnamed non-White people who were on the receiving end of economic, social and physical violence for generations. 

As a White man in America, I was taught the Civil Rights era solved all problems of racism in our country. That lie has kept me captive to a sin I did not create but rather was born into. It is up to me to choose whether the truth will set me free or if I will reject this new work of God’s radical inclusive love for the entire world. If you’re White like me, then it is also up to you.

Grace and Peace,
Rev. Chase Peeples

There is No Quick-Fix for Your Spiritual Life

And he said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.” Immediately they left their nets and followed him. 
--Matthew 4:19 NRSV

I’ve had two encounters with healthcare recently that seem like an apt metaphor for the spiritual life. The first has been the medical marvel of the COVID vaccination—two shots and that’s it! The second is my health coach, a part of my new health insurance plan, who provides accountability for me in order to eat better and exercise more. I so badly wish there was a vaccination to help me lose weight, lower my cholesterol and improve my cardiovascular system. Unfortunately, no quick fix exists for this stuff, only a lifestyle change will do. I’d much rather have the quick fix.

 

When I was a pastor in St. Joseph, MO, I served a mainline Protestant (Disciples of Christ) church whose glory days of crowds and big budgets took place 50-70 years earlier. The booming churches were of the non-denominational megachurch variety. I will admit to “church envy” over their numbers which gave the impression of vitality, but over the course of my time there I discovered those numbers were deceptive. About every year or so, a different one of those non-denominational churches became the “hot” church and a crowd would vacate what quickly became the “previously hot” church for it. A new pastor, a better band, an improved A/V spectacle or a shiny new convenience like a barista in the lobby would draw the not-so-faithful. The “hot” church was not much different than the “hot” new restaurant in town; it drew a crowd until it ceased to be hot or new anymore. St. Joseph was small enough to see this shifting of church memberships. In a larger metropolitan area like Kansas City (where I am now), however, this kind of church-hopping remains hidden.

 

When everything in our society is consumer-oriented, people can’t be blamed from viewing their church or even their religion as consumers. We are a society that loves a quick fix in everything from our stock market returns to our weight loss plans. In a society where everything competes to be the best and the newest our attention spans are short. If something doesn’t work, ten more new products are available that promise to do the same thing only better. A church and even Christianity itself is none of these things. It is a lifestyle change not a vaccination.

 

I grew up viewing the Christian life as a sort of spiritual vaccination: say the right prayer, feel the right feelings and poof, I was a Christian. The type of worship I experienced and the Christianity I was taught was about chasing that initial feeling of vaccination when one gave their life to Christ. I should have known from the language that implored you “to give your life to Christ” that “life” wasn’t a one-time thing but a life-long journey.

 

Jesus called his disciples to follow him on a journey that lasted their entire lives and asked them to change everything. He didn’t offer a vaccination, a quick fix or a new gizmo to make one’s life easier. I’ve spent my life in the church, yet I still struggle to let go of the concept that my relationship with God is compatible with something I earn or buy. Instead, following Jesus seems more akin to a recovery group for addicts—only the addiction isn’t to drugs or alcohol but self-centered consumerism. Or perhaps following Jesus is closer to undergoing deprogramming from a cult only the cult isn’t a would-be messiah living on a compound somewhere but our cultural values that prize convenience, indulgence and instant stimulation above everything else.

 

Jesus calls us to a lifestyle change, a complete overhaul that we are never done working on. A Jesus-centered church and a Jesus-centered Christianity is not centered on a minister who operates a cult of personality, a congregation offering to stimulate your appetite for entertainment or a set of beliefs that make you feel like you passed a semester course on God. Instead, the lifestyle involves a commitment to community, relationships of integrity, and spiritual practices which help us to find our security in God alone.

 

The things that matter in life are not things you buy or one-time experiences but rather life-long commitments to relationships with family, friends and most of all, God. There is no single or even double-dose vaccination for them.

 

Grace and Peace,

Rev. Chase Peeples

NIMBY and Jesus

Then he said, ‘This is what I’ll do. I will tear down my barns and build bigger ones, and there I will store my surplus grain. And I’ll say to myself, “You have plenty of grain laid up for many years. Take life easy; eat, drink and be merry.”’

“But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your life will be demanded from you. Then who will get what you have prepared for yourself?’

“This is how it will be with whoever stores up things for themselves but is not rich toward
God.
--Luke 12: 18-21 NRSV

This week I’ve been watching a TV series on Amazon Video called Loudermilk. It centers on a recovering alcoholic who leads a support group for alcoholics and addicts. Fair warning--it’s a comedy with plenty of crude humor, curse words and sexual situations—so skip it if such stuff offends you. It also has some great writing, great acting and some powerful wisdom. Clearly some of the creators and writers are in recovery, because usually each episode contains a nugget of hard-won truth.

In the show, the sobriety group meets at a Catholic church in a well-to-do Seattle neighborhood. After meetings, group members stand around outside to talk, smoke and often, since this is a comedy, act like fools—loud ones. Neighbors who think of themselves as enlightened progressives have bought into the gentrified neighborhood and complain about the group, especially its noise and left behind cigarette butts. It’s a classic case of NIMBY-ism, as in “Not In My Backyard” or “Poor people and troubled people deserve places to be, just not anywhere near me.” When I watched the episode, my jaw dropped, because I have dealt with just this situation.

I worked at a church in an expensive neighborhood in Kansas City. The church had no parking lot, only on-street parking. Several AA groups met in the building, and as is the case with every AA group I’ve ever known, members would stand outside after the meetings to talk usually with cigarettes in hand. Because we are talking about alcoholics and addicts here, some of the groups’ members were loud and had little awareness of the world around them. That’s why we had conflict with one of the church’s neighbors.

He was a lawyer who lived across from the church’s main entrance. He didn’t like the kind of people who went to the AA meetings being so near his house and “his children.” He complained about the language they used and that “they left trash and cigarette butts on his lawn.” We passed his complaints on to the AA groups, but he was never satisfied. Finally, one day he stormed over to the church, chewed out an sainted older lady who was a church member and threatened to sue.

He was pretty hostile during our phone call. I explained that these meetings were literally saving people’s lives, but he didn’t care. He wanted them to hold their meetings elsewhere. He repeatedly threatened to sue until I finally offered to personally pick up any cigarette butt he found in his yard. Every day I was at the church building from then on, I walked the curb in front of his house to look for cigarette butts or other trash. I found one cigarette butt a week--maybe. I found more than that in my own yard and neither I nor my neighbors smoke. We don’t have any AA groups meeting nearby either. The litigious neighbor often saw me checking his lawn for cigarette butts but never spoke to me again about it.

In America, the suburban home is largely considered a symbol of safety and success. I should know. My family and I live in a nice neighborhood that we chose for its good schools and safety. Yet, I’ve come to understand my suburban home comes at a cost. I am removed from most of the needs and struggles of people who are unable to live where I do. My little pocket of perceived safety comes with a false sense of the world—a world where most people live with issues I don’t have to see every day. I’m sure the people in my neighborhood have all sorts of pain and struggle, but you’d never know it. I have purchased a form of blindness that lulls me into believing I have no responsibility to others in the community. Also, in the pursuit of my self-interest and my home value, I am tempted to keep the world outside of my blinders at bay by any means necessary.

As much as I’d like to think I’m better than the angry neighbor ranting about cigarette butts and threatening lawsuits, if I’m honest, I’m not as far from him as I would like.

I don’t often read Christianity Today because in general its theological outlook and resulting politics don’t appeal to me, but I came across this article about Christians and NIMBY-ism that strikes me as truly prophetic for us suburban Americans. In it, the columnist Bonnie Christian writes:

Home is a good gift from God, yet our homes become our idols if we make them the source of security we ought to find in Christ.

Ouch!

She goes on to quote St. Cyprian, a Christian bishop in North Africa in the third century and what he has to say strikes me as amazingly modern:

who, excluding the poor from their neighborhood, stretch out their fields far and wide into space without any limits … even in the midst of their riches those are torn to pieces by the anxiety of vague thought, lest the robber should spoil, lest the murderer should attack, lest the envy of some wealthier neighbor should become hostile, and harass them with malicious lawsuits. Such a one enjoys no security either in his food or in his sleep.

Kristian continues:

The security we seek in a Suburban Lifestyle Dream is a lie, Cyprian said, because searching for security outside of God leaves us with emptiness, fear, and vulnerability instead. Enjoying a large yard or a single-family house isn’t sinful. But making any home—suburban or not—the foundation of our identity or a fortress to be guarded against the “intrusion” of the poor into our communities most certainly is.

It isn’t just homeowners who suffer from NIMBY-ism. Suburban churches can suffer from it too. Our buildings and the respectability we desire for them can become our idols. In the same way homeowners can look to security in their homes rather than in God, church people can make the same mistake.

Jesus told the “Parable of the Rich Fool” to warn Christians that it is easy to place our security and trust in all the wrong things. No suburban home even in the most gated and guarded neighborhoods can guarantee us a life free of crisis, danger and pain, but such enclaves sure can  numb our spirts and harden our hearts towards exactly the kind of people Jesus calls us to minister to and care for. One of the greatest challenges for American Christianity is understanding the suburban lifestyle is not the same thing as following Jesus.

Grace and Peace,
Chase

Where Can I Get Some Mandalorian Armor?

Put on the whole armor of God, so that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil. For our struggle is not against enemies of blood and flesh, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers of this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. --Ephesians 6:12-13 NRSV

My family and I have been watching the Star Wars TV show The Mandalorian on Disney+. If you are not into Star Wars (and if not, why not?), The Mandalorian looks and feels a lot like an old western only with spaceships and laser blasters instead of horses and six shooters. The main character is from the planet Mandalore--hence the name of the show--where a race of fierce warriors once lived. These warriors were known by their impenetrable armor made of one of the toughest metals in the galaxy. Our hero--similar to “the man with no name” in westerns--travels the galaxy encased in his armor battling evil and saving the local populace from the bad guys. (Oh yeah, there’s a "baby Yoda" too, but if you’re not into Star Wars, then that probably won’t mean much to you.)

I’ve often wished for a kind of armor that could protect me from nasty remarks, manipulation, betrayal and pain. Maybe you know what I’m talking about. The myth of the invulnerable hero permeates our culture from old westerns to John McClane of Die Hard, from Lara Croft of Tomb Raider to Daenerys Targaryen of Game of Thrones. Who doesn’t want to live as if all the hurtful stuff that comes at us in all of our relationships doesn’t really scratch our surfaces? So, we learn survival skills such as wearing “masks” which enable us to present an image to the outside world different from our inner reality; pushing intimacy away so we don’t have the risk of being hurt; putting others down before we can be on the receiving end of a put down and more. 

There’s another kind of armor in the TV show The Mandalorian: the armor worn by the stormtroopers of the evil Galactic Empire. The bad guys’ armor is comically ineffective. All it takes is one smack from even the unlikeliest of sources to knock a stormtrooper out of action. An attentive viewer of the Star Wars franchise might wonder why they even bother wearing it, since it doesn’t really protect them at all. Our emotional defenses are a lot like the stormtroopers’ armor--it may make us feel safe but ultimately it just a bunch of heavy useless junk to carry around.

For the real armor--the kind the title character of The Mandalorian wears--we have to look to a deeper source of protection. The Apostle Paul called it “the whole armor of God.” It’s too bad that so many Christians down through the centuries have taken these verses literally and as an excuse to become crusaders shedding blood in God’s name. Paul actually subverts the idea of armor and says our protection comes not from violence or the threat of it, not from literal weapons, helmets and breastplates, but from God. The armor that really keeps us safe is made up of things like truth, righteousness, peace, faith, salvation and Spirit. 

God did not create us to be action heroes wandering the Wild West or the galaxy immune from harm. No, God created us to be in relationship with one another and to take the risks which come with being vulnerable with one another. Of course that means we will be hurt but we can bear those pains because our strength and assurance comes from our perfect God rather than a misguided belief that others will be perfect or an even worse belief that we have to be perfect. God designed us to love courageously, show mercy recklessly and give generously with the full knowledge that living this way invites betrayal, ridicule and pain, but our identity and security is found in the God who created us rather than in the actions of others. 

Pick your armor carefully. One kind is useless but the other will sustain you through the difficulties of this life.

Grace and Peace, Chase