Prejudice and discrimination in America? Still? Yeah, of course. As long as human nature remains the same, there will be an “Us vs. Them” mentality. We’ll always find people different than us somehow unacceptable — or at least we’ll be uncomfortable around them. We may have to tolerate them in our schools and workplaces (it’s the law, right?), but we sure don’t have to allow them in our country clubs, our churches, our synagogues or mosques. As a devout Christian, I’m more sensitive to this attitude in our religious establishments, our churches. Thankfully, we’ve (mostly) moved past segregation in the pew. Hardly anyone bats an eye at blacks and whites, Asians and Latinos sitting together in church these days. In fact, it’s become a badge of honor for us: “See? Look how far we’ve come. Look at the Love of God in this place.” Those old Scripture passages that once championed separation of the races are no longer interpreted that way. The wall that divides us has been torn down by the work of Christ — well, at least we’ve finally come to recognize that much of it, anyway.

But President Obama’s proclamation brings my mind once again to the division and pain still experienced by Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender people in our Houses of Worship. Fellow believers! Unwelcome in the House of their Father. And I think of those I’ve met personally with stories of attempted suicides, driven to this extreme by the rejection they encountered by so-called believers. Saints, loved by God, who themselves want to love God and experience the fullness of relationship with him, but told by their spiritual leaders that they are unacceptable, that God hates them, and that they’re destined for hell (“see, it’s right here in black and white: 1 Cor 6:9…”). Imagine it. No, really, try. Try to put yourself in that position: kept from God, your only lifeline of hope in a confused and dangerous world, by the gatekeepers of the Kingdom. No matter your own heart’s crying out into the heavens, seeking, hungering after an encounter with your Creator, your Redeemer, but not finding anyone who will show you the way. Finding only those who point fingers and demand the impossible of you: “change or perish”.

My heart still breaks at these stories — as did Jesus’ so long ago. We, the Church of the Living God, have become the very people accused by our Lord. We have put stumbling blocks in front of people, preventing access to the only Source that can bring life and healing and love and fulfillment and purpose. With our clinging to our own “righteous” forms of legalism, we are no different than those religious figures 2000 years ago — quoting Scripture to Jesus himself, defending offensive practices which break the heart of God. Where is the echoing call of the messiah in our lives? Where is the living out of the promise, “the Spirit of the Lord is upon me because he has anointed me … to proclaim freedom to the captive, to release the oppressed, and to declare the year of the Lord’s favor”?

We, the people of faith, will always wrestle with coming to peace with the sinner and his sin. In our lifetimes, we’ll probably never be able to fully come to terms with black and white Scripture which describes the behavior of sinners. Perhaps, then, we should focus more on the red and white of Scripture, the “come unto me ALL … and I will give your rest. Take MY yoke upon you…”. Let us not forget our own failures, our own shortcomings compared to the unyielding perfection of the Law. “Come now, let us reason together, says the LORD. Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool” (Is 1:18). We, with our snow-white hearts, do we close the door to others simply because we cannot see how white their hearts are as well?

I hear the powerful, liberating words of the prophet Isaiah describing the finished work of the Suffering Servant: “we turned our back on him and looked the other way. He was despised, and we did not care. Yet it was our weaknesses he carried; it was our sorrows that weighed him down… He was pierced for our rebellion, crushed for our sins. He was beaten so we could be whole; he was whipped so we could be healed. … But it was the LORD’s good plan to crush him and cause him grief. When he sees all that is accomplished by his anguish, he will be satisfied. And because of his experience, my Righteous Servant will make it possible for many to be counted righteous, for he will bear all their sins” (Is 53:2-11).

It’s already done. That work was completely finished. The doorway to the Eternal Throne has been burst off its hinges to close no more. The curtain hiding the Holy of Holies has been ripped in two, never to be resewn. Who among us who call ourselves by his name dare to try to close that door, to repair that curtain?

My heart breaks for the Church, for the heartless actions of its leaders, its shepherds, and its people. What stern look of disapproval will we receive from the One who sits on the Throne on that Great Day? But my heart aches worse for those black sheep, lambs of a different fold, rejected by the white sheep with cold hearts, complacent, too comfortable and apathetic in their secure pens. Who will go out, leave the ninety and nine, in search of them? Who will go out into the roadways and countrysides — the clubs, the parades, the picnics, rodeos and festivities of Gay Pride month — and proclaim that Year of Jubilee to them? Who will speak the words Jesus is still speaking, “Come to me … just as you are”?

The president’s words are pale in comparison to the summons of Jesus. This month, this official time of LGBT Pride, let it also be a month of reawakening in the Church and in God’s People. Remove the stumbling blocks. Replace your hearts of stone for hearts of flesh, beating with the blood of love and acceptance of Him who Gives Life. Let June 2010 be proclaimed as the Month of the Lord’s Favor. Open the doors, open your arms. Welcome back those called by your Father that you have held at arm’s length — “not in THIS church”. Hold your tongue, withhold your judgment. Bring joy to the heart of God by loving his people, and bringing in those who have been kept out. When all are welcomed home, when reconciliation has been proclaimed, that’s when the angels sing. June is an official month for a good cause in America. Let it also be a month of celebration in Heaven.

When you’re restless, when you’re bored, when you’re tired of the same thing day in and day out, you start looking for something new. And that’s where I’ve been, oh, I don’t know, for the past two years or so. And with that latest revelation that my next step would either be helped or hindered by how I handled “radical acceptance”, I was keeping my eyes (and my options) open. So I decided to start by trying out a few new churches. I like to do that periodically anyway, just to keep tabs on what’s out there, but now I was doing it with an eye toward a real change, not just a temporary change of scenery.

I should first clarify that my ecclesiastical wandering eye was not the result of some turmoil or blow up at the church I’d been attending for the past five or six years. I wasn’t mad at the pastor, there were no quarrels with members of the congregation, and there was no conflict driving me out. I was simply looking to stretch myself, find new growing opportunities, and I’d become comfortable and too complacent there. It was time to shake the tree a little and see what fell out.

So after revisiting churches I’d attended years ago, and checking out a new high-energy type church a few times, I decided to try something more along the lines of “radical”. I’d seen advertisements for a congregation I instinctively knew I’d be really uncomfortable with, and I decided to go. It was a small, Bible-believing church with an emphasis on outreach to the LGBT (Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender) community. Over the years, I’d been to a few gay-affirming churches, and they’d always kinda left me wondering why they bothered. Okay, that’s a bit judgmental and harsh, I know. They tended to be more liturgical, less Bible-based preaching, and generally more socially or politically activist. That’s fine, I guess, but it’s just not my style. And I fully expected this new church to fall neatly in that same box. I got there just a bit late, wanting to kind of sneak in attracting as little attention as possible, do my reconnaissance unnoticed, and escape with another undercover adventure under my belt. But it was not to be.

When I arrived, I was stopped on the stoop by several of the congregants, and engaged in some light banter. That in itself was remarkable. I’m usually one of those guys who barely tolerates the dreaded “everyone, turn to your neighbor and greet them in the love of the Lord” moments, screwing a smile on my face, and counting the seconds till I can sit back down in my seat and be left alone. But these people were genuinely friendly, and we actually had real conversations, not just idle words to fill in the gaps before service began. That was nice; it was refreshing. Hey, real human interaction. Who would have thought? Then came the music part of the service. An electric piano, drums, and three or four worship leaders led with a mixed list of songs, hymns, and choruses. And as we were singing, the atmosphere suddenly got warm, heavy and peaceful. And there it was, thick as a blanket covering all of us: the tangible presence of God. People behind me began weeping, I was in communion with my God, and the pastor and leaders up front recognized the presence and honored it. They didn’t rush on with their program. The didn’t fiddle with their microphones uncomfortably, they didn’t tell us to sit down to start the announcements or take up the offering. They simply began to sing some of the same songs over again, lingering in the honey air, not wanting to break their attention off the love that was flowing from us to God and so evidently from God back to us.

Knowing that the church was a haven for the gay community, I’d expected to be put off by people fitting the wide range of stereotypes. Obviously, it’s not because I disapprove of homosexuality, or even find it theologically problematic. I’ve done the Bible study, and God has spoken to me specifically about it, so I’ve long since made my peace with this controversial topic in the Body of Christ. But I’ll admit that I am uncomfortable around some of the more … shall we say, flamboyant … aspects associated with it. I’m blinded by the outward appearance, disturbed by some of the unconventional behavior, and find it difficult to connect with the real people underneath. And this is what I’d come to confront. “Radical acceptance”, remember? Could I step into this situation and see people as Jesus did? Could I overcome my own superficial prejudices and let the love of God do its thing?

There I was, surrounded by all kinds of people: gay and straight couples, friends and families, mothers and children. And yes, there were those blatantly fitting the stereotypes that made me uncomfortable. And the presence of God was there, placing his divine seal of approval on them all. These were his beloved children, people whose hearts cried out to him, who raised their voices in praise and worship of him, men and women who loved him because of his grace to them — grace denied them in other churches. And I felt comfortable there in the house of God. Jesus was there in a very real way, how could I not?

Later, I had lunch with the pastor and several of the church members, and as we talked I grew more convinced that God was actively at work. This was real. This wasn’t just a religious performance or going through motions. The pastor spoke about a few of his plans that shocked me, disturbed me, stretching my perspective in very unsettling ways. Yet, picking my jaw up off the floor, I found myself continually smiling. These were just the kinds of things Jesus would do. Yes, they were unconventional, even questionable, challenging my views of the Church, but they were motivated at the core by a love for people, for a desire to bring them to Jesus. Maybe I’ll risk offending some of my readers and write about them later, but I was excited by the vision, by its radicalness. By the heart of Jesus.

I’ve still got my boatload of issues to work through. That experience didn’t knock all my roadblocks down in a single day. But I recognized the stretching. I felt my heart being expanded, my narrow vision being broadened — and God’s fingerprints on the entire experience. The truth is, if you want to be of real service to God, you’ve got to love his people, and you cannot shy away from controversy. Fear of shaking things up or stirring up a little attention will only hold you back. And that means overcoming your hang-ups, and learning to love people unconditionally. It means embracing radical acceptance.

I’d wanted to shake up the tree a little, and I did. This was a step in that direction. And I knew I’d be back for more. Because when it comes to God’s Number One priority — people — a little “radical” is not something to avoid. It’s a God thing, and it’s good.

On June 1st, President Barack Obama officially declared June 2009 as Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, and Transgender Pride Month. Of course, June has been “Gay Pride” month since the Stonewall Riots in June 1969, and there are parades and festivities occurring this month all around the world, from Omaha to London to Tel Aviv to Shanghai. Cities around the world have cordoned off streets and beaches for the concerts and parties. The parades have become the public arena for corporate floats, aspiring politicians, community activists, churches, and everyday citizens demonstrating for civil rights and social acceptance, as well as those out just for a good time.

And then there’s the other side. The drunkenness, the public display of nudity and sexuality, the flaunting of common decency in the name of shock value “because we can”. Many of the events are family-friendly, but many should never have come out of the seedy, dark underground where practices unsuited for prime time are now being aired defiantly. It’s Mardi Gras with a rainbow flag.

Like a lot of things in our world today, Christians even remotely interested in such events are faced with a dilemma. Do I go? Do I participate? Or is this something that should be completely avoided? I asked a few of my Christian friends for their opinions, and as expected, received answers ranging all along the spectrum, from adamantly opposed, to strongly supportive, and even apathy and uncertainty in between. Regardless of the value or lack of value in supporting the cause of civil rights, is it appropriate for Christians to associate with these kinds of events and these kinds of people? As one friend quoted the Bible to me, “what partnership have righteousness and lawlessness, or what fellowship has light with darkness?” But as another countered, “how else is the light to shine except in darkness? The light shines, and darkness has not overcome it.”

Everyone will have to answer that question for themselves, according to their own motivations and conscience, but I thought it would be helpful to ask that popular question, “What would Jesus do?”

I think everyone will agree that Gay Pride celebrations are generally not for the timid or faint of heart. There are strongly motivated people out there — those advocating their liberty, those voicing opposition, and those just plain ole acting up. And it goes without saying that followers of Christ should not be involved in lewdness and debauchery. But these types of celebrations — especially this one — are filled with hurting and hungry people. And that to me is the key to solving the dilemma.

Jesus went wherever people needed him. “It is not the healthy who need a physician, but the sick. I have not come for the righteous, but to call sinners to repentance” (Lk 5:30-32). “I have come that they may have life, and have it in abundance” (Jn 10:10). This motivation drove Jesus to some very questionable places and caused him to associate with certain types of people that the more religious would never even talk to much less hang out with. His behavior and choice of companions so outraged the religious that they called him a drunk and a glutton (Mt 11:19). They accused him of being demon possessed. Why? Because he loved people. And let’s be clear about one thing here: while Jesus would not have been condoning wild revelry, he was no stranger to parties and enjoying himself. Remember his first miracle? It was at a wedding reception, where celebrating people were busy getting drunk. And what does he do? Give them more wine to celebrate. (John 2). And he was frequently seen at banquets and dinner parties, hanging around tax collectors, corrupt officials, prostitutes. The Pharisees of his day called him on it: how can you associate with such unclean people? He saw something, he knew something, that they did not. He understood the heart of God.

Would Jesus go to a Gay Pride parade? You bet he would. I doubt very much he’d be marching in it (he tended to avoid political activism since that wasn’t his purpose), but he’d certainly have a booth out on the fair grounds with big signs telling people that God loved them. He’d be shouting into the crowds (in a very undignified way), “Come unto me, all you who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” He’d say, “Come to me, all who are hungry, and let me give you what you’re seeking. Come to me, all of you who are thirsty, and I will give you water to drink that will fill your souls and overflow out of you to water others.” (Mt 11:28; Lk 1:53; Lk 6:21; Jn 7:38)

Especially at Gay Pride celebrations, where so many Gay and Lesbian and Bisexual and Transgender people have been rejected by our religious organizations, our churches, hurt by family, told they are hated by God, told they are going to hell. Is there any other group of people more needing of the love and acceptance of Jesus? Would he be among the conservative church goers there, holding up protest signs that say “Fags go to Hell”, or hurling insults at those dressed in feather boas or sexually-explicit costumes? Would he be among those throwing stones? Did he EVER do that in the Gospels? No. Today, at any Gay Pride parade or picnic he went to, he’d walk up to such scandalous people, wrap his arms around them, kiss them on the cheek, and say “You are SO loved by the Father.” Some people would reject him, now just as they did 2000 years ago. But those who hunger for a relationship with God would hug him back, and follow him to some grassy picnic area where he’d tell them stories about how the Kingdom of God is made up of people such as themselves. And from such people, he would raise up followers who would know the grace of God and see a face of God that those who grew up in the church have never seen and will never experience.

Not everybody at Gay Pride celebrations is hurt or damaged, of course. And only a small percentage of those gathered at these events will be acting in outrageous ways. Many people will be there just for the festivities and entertainment. Many of these will be fellow believers — gay and straight. And Jesus would be sitting at their table, sharing hamburgers with them, blessing them, listening to their stories and encouraging them. He’d laugh with them, cry with them, and remind them that he’s always with them and will never abandon them.

Should a Christian, gay or straight, attend Gay Pride events? That, of course, depends on your motive for being there. But when I think about Jesus, any question whether it’s appropriate or right melts away. All we need to ask ourselves — all we should be imitating in our own lives — is What would Jesus do?

For those who are not news junkies, Proposition 8 was a state question on the California ballot during the election on whether to amend the state constitution to eliminate the right of same-sex couples to marry. It passed with 52% approving and 48% against, effectively removing the legal standing of thousands of already-married same-sex couples, and denying the future ability of gay men and lesbian women to form permanent legal bonds. In the process, it denied them access to many civil rights and benefits offered to heterosexual couples. In a word, it defined them as second-class citizens. Defenders of the amendment argue that it merely codifies what is already our traditional and religious understanding, and is critical to protect our families and preserve our valued traditions. Similar initiatives passed in other states as well.

I’m breaking my own rule here in discussing social or political topics. The mission of Cafe Inspirado is to encourage people and bring them into a more fulfilling life with God. But at the risk of offending friends on both sides, my gut tells me that there are seriously hurting people out there who need some reassuring words, people who feel shoved aside, rejected and despised — by society, their own families, the Church and by God. And while some will likely see things differently than I do, if we call ourselves followers of Christ, I think we should examine his attitude and actions towards those who were socially or religiously unacceptable in his day, and let them serve as our model.

Some obvious passages from Sunday School lessons come to mind. In one scene, Jesus is teaching in the Temple, and some teachers of the Law drag before him a woman caught in adultery. They quote the Law to him, “Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?” In words burned into our cultural memory, Jesus responds, “He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone” (John 8:7).  And as the accusers leave in shame, he tells the woman, “Neither do I condemn you. Go now and sin no more.” Jesus’ message: Though the religious rules and establishment condemn you, I do not reject you.

At another point, when asked by an expert in the Law what he must do to inherit eternal life, Jesus encourages him to love God and to love his neighbor. “Do this and you will live.” But the man, still unsatisfied, wants clarification. “Who is my neighbor?” Then comes the famous parable about the Good Samaritan who takes care of a wounded man after all the religious people of the day had ignored him. And Jesus turns the question back on the lawyer, “Which of these was a neighbor?” The lawyer replies, “The one who had mercy”. Jesus then instructs him, “Go and do likewise”. (Luke 10:25-37)  Samaritans were despised by Jews back in those days. They were racially impure, descendents of captives brought from Babylon and other places by the king of Assyria who intermarried with the Jews still remaining in the land. They practiced a different form of the Old Testament faith, even having a temple of their own, and the religious defenders of pure Judaism considered them “unclean”. Yet Jesus chose one of them as our example for the life we should live. Jesus’ message: though others find you unacceptable, I call you neighbor.

In another account, on the long walk back to Galilee from Judea, Jesus stops and asks for water from a Samaritan woman at a well — to her great astonishment. “How can you ask me for a drink? For Jews do not associate with Samaritans” (John 4:9) Yet the people of that Samaritan town welcome him, and he and his disciples stay with them for two days. And because of his teachings, many become believers. Jesus’ message: though society labels you unclean, you are valuable to me.

In each of these instances Jesus overlooks the stricter interpretations of the Law, and emphasizes what is in his heart: mercy and compassion, not condemnation or pushing unpopular groups further away. Establishing redeeming relationships was more important to him than being legally righteous. In fact, Jesus was even accused by the more traditional Jews of his day of being a drunk, glutton, partier, even demon possessed because he hung out with prostitutes, tax collectors (corrupt officials), and other socially unacceptable people. Far from ostracizing them further, he welcomes them. And instead of the religiously observant, these outcasts become his favorite people — one of them, Matthew, even becomes one of his chosen twelve.

To approach this topic from a different angle, no one grounded in the Faith can deny that there are genuine believers out there who call Jesus their Lord and also happen to be gay or lesbian. Whether or not we approve of their actions, whether they are caught in sin like the adulterous woman, these believers are brothers and sisters of Christ. They are joint heirs of the Kingdom, washed in his blood, righteous and pure in God’s eyes — whether they threaten our traditional values or not. Who are we, any of us, to point our fingers? Disagree or disapprove, we might. But I am sobered by the certain future of standing before this same Jesus at his Throne of Glory and being examined by him. “Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me” (Mt 25:40).

If Jesus were physically present in America today, what would he do? Would he be casting votes to deny modern-day Samaritans basic rights enjoyed by others? Would he stand today with the defenders of tradition? Did he in the past? Would he join in civil protest, picket or carry signs at demonstrations to overturn cultural norms? In my opinion, the answer to each of these questions is No. My reading of the Gospels does not paint a picture of Jesus as a social activist. He did not lobby the Sanhedrin, he did not rebel against Rome or even his own religious leaders. He instructed, he coached, he challenged conventional interpretations. And in their synagogues, he taught God’s love and brought people’s attention away from the letter of the Law which kills, and drew them to the spirit of the Law which gives life. And he demonstrated this in his own personal life. Not with picket signs, but in acts of love, kindness, compassion, and mercy. Yesterday, if he were here, would he have been protesting at City Hall? Probably not. But he would be in our churches, confronting those of us who claim to be God’s chosen, standing in our faces, and asking each of us in his quiet and loving voice, “Who is my brother?”

This past election cycle voted in major changes for Americans. And with those changes come questions about what is right, what is traditional, what is moral, what is constitutional. Serious men and women of faith will form different conclusions. But it has caused me to ask again that ancient and most basic of questions, “What does the Lord expect of me in this?” And the ancient answer is still the same. “He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the LORD require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?” (Mic 6:8)

My purpose in writing this is not to advocate the Biblical or spiritual validity of same-sex couples, nor to argue the sinfulness of such relationships. And although I have formed my own opinion of what Jesus would have done, neither is it my purpose to judge the decision of American voters. But to God’s people, I would ask that they examine their hearts and consider Jesus’ view on the matter. And to those wounded by this decision, I offer the words I think Jesus used to speak in the old days, and still calls out today to those with ears to hear: Come! You are loved, you are accepted by God. Though others reject you, I will never forsake you There is no condemnation, no accusation. You are the ones I came to embrace; you are important to me. The Father is waiting, and has paid all your debts. My Blood is for you. You are righteous and have peace with God. You are a valued member of God’s Family, and are welcome in His Church. Just come!