Preaching and Politics

I have been ordained 18 years.  That means I have had plenty of time to make mistakes.

I moved from Honolulu to Boise in 1994.  Honolulu at the time was a one-party state: Democrat.  Idaho was its polar opposite.  The Religious Right was strong in Idaho and the 90’s was the decade of their ascendancy.  In 1994, they put an initiative on the ballot in Idaho that would deny people who were gay or lesbian “special rights.”  This initiative would make sure that people who were gay or lesbian could be fired or removed from their rental homes simply for being gay or lesbian.  No other justification would be needed.  The Episcopal Church was in a process of “discussing” issues around homosexuality.  We hadn’t come up with a cleary policy.  But it seemed to me that regardless of where one was on the issue in the church, this ballot initiative seemed cruel.

Two months after arriving as the Canon Pastor at St. Michael’s Cathedral, I told the congregation what I thought about the ballot initiative.  From the pulpit.   It was, of course, a brilliant sermon .  I tried to be balanced and descriptive – the church hasn’t decided it’s position . . .  here are arguments for . . . however some people feel . . .  regardless of where we stand, this initiative goes too far . . . If I’m going to err, I’m going to err on the side of grace.

I was the first time the word “homosexual” had been uttered from the pulpit.  It was probably the first time the word had been said in the church.  It was also the first time in anybody’s memory that a sermon was greeted with spontaneous applause.   I was quaking in my shoes as I preached, and then people applauded.  I was relieved.

Unfortunately it didn’t take long for me to realize that not everybody applauded.  That moment, early in my ministry polarized me.  Half the congregation wanted to canonize me.  The other half wanted me fired.

In that episode I realized the risk in taking a stand on a sensitive social issue from the pulpit.  One result of my action was I lost my voice, or at least my voice was significantly diminished, with those who were offended.

Three years later, I became the rector of St. Thomas Church in Sun Valley.   The congregation was politically diverse.  I made an personal policy to not preach directly on issues.  I decided this for two reasons.  First, I did not want to repeat what happened in Boise.  Second, I don’t have expertise on many social issues.  I’m not an expert on health care policy, for example.  I did not want to be speaking out of my ignorance.  (I learned this lesson in another episode in Boise when I got involved in a union issue, not from the pulpit that time, but I quickly learned there was a great deal I didn’t know about union & corporate affairs. )

So in Sun Valley, I stuck to the area in which I do have expertise — the gospel.  I adopted a policy of preaching on gospel themes:  God, love and whatnot.   I left it up to people to apply the themes to their lives and decisions.  Two things happened that demonstrated the value of this approach.

After being in the congregation a number of years, a member called and asked if the ALCU could present a slide-show in our parish hall on the history of gays and lesbians in Idaho.  We saw our facility as a community center and hosted lots of groups, so allowing this was not a political statement.  It was just what we did.  The church member announced in church that the slide show was happening.  After church a retired CEO came up to me and said, “Brian, normally I would never attend anything like that slide show, but you have taught me to be open-minded so I’m going to go.”

The other episode happened after the Jewish congregation started worshiping in our facility on Friday nights.  I wanted my congregation to see that we were welcoming them.  I wanted the presence of the Jewish Congregation to be part of our life as a Christian community.  So for several weeks I kept the Jewish Arc, that housed the Torah scroll, in the chancel, behind the altar. The Torah and Judaism, after all, are an important part of our religious heritage.   It was a beautiful work of art that was clearly visible to the congregation.   One morning, after our 8am service, a very conservative retired member was leaving.  As he shook my hand, he said, “I don’t like that we have the Jewish Ark in our chancel.  And every time I think about why I don’t like the Ark there, I don’t like the reason that comes to my mind.  I need you to help me understand why the Ark is there.”  I could have kissed him.  He was uncomfortable with the Ark but he was more uncomfortable with the reason why he was uncomfortable.  He wanted to understand.

Those two episodes helped me understand the power of preaching gospel themes: God, love and whatnot.

There was one exception in my eight years in Sun Valley.  On the eve of U.S forces invading Iraq, I preached on the war.  It was for the most part a teaching sermon.  I felt, as a graduate of our nations’ finest military academy (beat Navy!) and as an Army veteran, I did have some authority in this area.  I also thought it was interesting that I was taught the same “Just War Theory” at West Point and Virginia Seminary.   The Just War Theory is a set of tenants that help justify when it is appropriate to go to war.  In the sermon I gave a lecture on the tenants of the Just War Theory.  I included them in a handout as well.  I then mentioned that the military in the U.S. works for the civil government.  Military officers don’t decide when and where to fight.  We, the people, do.  And we need to take this obligation very seriously.   I think I did end the sermon with my belief that we weren’t at a place where military intervention was warranted.   The sermon was well received.  I think it was thought provoking.  People appreciated the framework of the Just War Theory.  (I’ll try to find a link to audio of the sermon if its available.  It was a very long sermon – lots of ground to cover.)

I guess I mention that to say there’s an exception to every rule.  Now that I’m at Trinity, I have continued the gospel-theme-not-politics policy in the pulpit.  My mistakes at Trinity have been in other areas of my ministry.