Grief & Anger

For the past few days I have struggled with writing this post. It did not seem enough to express my emotions about the massacre in Orlando; I needed to say more, to say things that are on my heart and that need to be said. The shootings hit very close to home for me. Living in Tampa, and having lived in Kissimmee for 6 years, I know the area. Will was born in the hospital where many victims were taken, and one of his co-workers at the Olive Garden near UCF was there and survived, but lost three friends that night. I have friends who live only blocks from Pulse. The friend of a dear friend lost a niece that night. One of my former youth, a gay man now living in Arizona, had spent many nights in the club and did not know for many hours if he had lost friends. Pain is everywhere. And it is from that pain that I write today. You may not like or agree with the things I say here, and normally I am the first to tell you that "it is entirely possible that I may be wrong." I also freely admit that many of my statements are generalizations, and that there are many wonderful people and sincere churches out there who do get what it means to love like Christ. But today, I seek to write uncomfortable truths. Do with them (and me) as you will. If anything I say rings true, then you will understand that we can disagree and still be friends. We just can't hate. So here are 7 things that are on my heart this week...

• This was a Hate Crime- to call it anything else is an attempt to make the crime more political and less personal. The shooter had terrorists ties, and his warped philosophy may have come from ISIS (not Islam- ISIS!). But he targeted this specific club because he wanted to see gays, lesbians, bisexuals and transgendered people die. This story is being spun by people who believe that USAmerica belongs to them, and who, like the Lt. Governor of Texas, believe that these helpless victims "reaped what they sowed." The sooner we (especially those of us who claim to follow Jesus) confess that the shooter was not the only one with hate in his heart, the sooner we can begin to deal with the root of our problem.
• The framers of the constitution meant for the 2nd Amendment to protect your rights to own an assault rifle just as much as they wanted to protect the rights of the local fireworks tent to sell nuclear bombs. In colonial times guns were tools in the hands of the public and weapons in the hands of the militia. You needed guns to put food on the table and to protect your livestock from wild animals. No one- not one living person on planet earth- needs an assault rifle for anything but killing people. Ban them now!
• Most of you know that I am a Christian, and spent 28 years of my life working in churches. So this is hard for me. But the #PrayForOrlando memes have made me a little sick to my stomach. We are telling a community of people- the LGBT community- for whom we have done little (except to marginalize and dehumanize) for many years that suddenly we feel their pain. We are telling people that our institution has told over and over again will "burn in Hell" that we now love them. Churches are now saying that LGBT lives matter- just so long as they don't wish to get married, be clergy, adopt children, chaperone youth group trips or do anything else that matters inside of our walls. We have taught people to hate the sin- and so those who see the LGBT community as sinners have hated who they are while claiming not to hate the sinner. It doesn't work that way. If you hate the fact that I am a glutton, and I am indeed a glutton, then you hate who I am- and therefore hate me. The Orlando shootings, just like the bombings of abortion clinics, are what hating the sin looks like when taken to a extreme conclusion. Jesus taught that everyone is our neighbor. Too many of our churches teach that everyone like ME is my neighbor. And then say, "But I'm praying for you..."  I have seen the church chew up and spit out pastors and members who came out of the closet. I myself was questioned about my sexual orientation because I had a gay youth pastor friend- and I would have been immediately fired if my answer to the question "Are you gay?" had been yes.The gospels say to love all, judge none and reach out to those we don't understand. Many USAmerican Christians have become far more likely to judge all, love some and hang out with with the people who are just like us. There are many exceptions- but they are still the minority. It is time for the Church Universal to assume its role as a catalyst for positive social change. Christianity is not some moral improvement plan through which we can fix people, it's about building loving relationships and allowing the Holy Spirit to work through them. Too many of us have forgotten that.
• I am not sure I can live in a nation where a man can say things as vile and abhorrent as the pure sewage that Donald Trump has been spewing since Sunday morning and actually become more popular. No doubt, radical Islam can be a terrible thing. So can radical Christianity when it leads to groups like the KKK and events like the Crusades. The Church propped up slavery and ignored women for many years. The LGBT community has been our most recent victim. Every religion has failings and skeletons in the closet. God have mercy on us. Ignorance is a dangerous thing, and Trump is counting on the ignorance of voters and the fear it can create to get himself elected. That is not a partisan statement- if he were running as a Democrat he would still be the worst possible candidate I can imagine. And oh by the way- the oncologist who over the past year has done so much to save the life of someone I love? A Muslim immigrant...
• There was something interesting on Twitter earlier in the week. A bisexual man wrote that one of the reasons that clubs like Pulse came into being in the first place was that many times LGBT people did not feel safe in public places, so they created their own space. The tweet ended with this: "Now we don't feel safe anywhere." How horrific is that? Our African-American friends have known that fear for many yeas, as have many women and other ethnic groups. So why...WHY?????...is the Church of Jesus Christ not a place where all feel safe?
• Hundreds of people posted memes on Facebook this week that said guns aren't the problem, people are. "After all, Cain killed Abel with a rock." True- but Cain couldn't have killed 49 people with that rock. People's hearts are indeed the problem, but giving such troubled people such weapons is begging for the culture we now live in- one where guns are taking out groups of people nearly everyday. Led by the NRA, people are forever saying gun control will never work. In 1996, there was a mass shooting in Australia where 35 people were killed. The politicians sucked it up and said never again. They enacted tough gun control laws, bought back hundreds of thousands of guns and set about changing the culture. In the past 20 years there have been exactly ZERO mass shootings (more than 4 dead) in that country. In the USA we have had 7 in the past 10 days. Canada has had 8 in 20 years. We have had 7 in the past 10 days. Something must change. And it must change now.
• For Christians, the stakes have never been higher than they are right now. Who do we trust- the powerful, corrupt and greedy who seek to lead us or the One who died so that we may truly live? Will we put our hope in Jesus or in the right to own an AK-15? Will we follow the Prince of Peace and actively work to change a culture of violence? Will we follow the Giver of Grace and lovingly reach out to those who may appear to be different from us, understanding that in God we are one family? Will we listen to the voice that throughout scripture, whenever things get scary, reminds us to "FEAR NOT?" Or will we listen to a culture that proclaims violence as the answer, judgment as the rule and fear as our only option? My friend Eric wrote in a comment on Facebook the other day the following challenge, aimed at Christians like me who have been too silent for too long: "Jesus would be upending tables and screaming about this. It's time for you guys to suit up and do the same." I could not agree more.

So please continue to pray for the victims of this tragedy and their families. Pray for the politicians who proceed so blindly with the status quo. And pray for our churches, which are filled with people who can make a difference if they choose to do so. And then we (starting with ME!) need to get off of our knees and DO SOMETHING! We can help put a stop to the madness, to prejudice and gun violence and so much more. Jesus taught that if we want to follow him we must put ourselves aside and love others as he loves us. It's not safety first, or theology first or politics first- it's love first, last and always. Let us find a better way...

Because of Jesus,

"This Now Defines You"

Day 3 from inside the system. I am glad to get all this out, but it is also exhausting...

As part of my probation process it was required of me to attend and graduate from a 4-part sex offenders therapy program. The classes have no true beginning or ending; you start going immediately and stay until the head of the program decides you are done. As a result, you never know how many years it's going to take to finish- you only know it will take years. It also means that your first day of Level 1 you are walking into a class of sex offenders who are trying desperately to say the right things and get promoted to Level 2. Sessions last an hour and only one or two participants got to talk each week. We were told we  could not get off of probation until we finish all 4 levels. This is a partial truth, it turns out, but still- everyone wants to get their chance. I was in the group for 5 weeks before the therapist spoke to me, other than to call my name when he called roll and collected my payment. And they NEVER forgot to collect payments. Every week, from every person. Money rules inside the legal system. Four levels, around 20 guys per class, multiple weekly classes at each level, $20 per person per week- this therapy stuff was a racket! Of all the things that were part of my probation, nothing was as frustrating or as useless (for me) as the 4 and a half years of "intensive" therapy. Why? I was hoping you would ask...

By the time the therapist decided to talk to me a few things had become crystal clear. I was way out of my element. Some of the guys were there because of various computer offenses, some were 19 year olds convicted of statutory rape with their underage girlfriends, and there actually was one guy there for urinating in a parking lot. Then there were the guys who had done some truly heinous "get your own story on Dateline" kinds of things- and their stories freaked me out a little. And again- I can't say this  often enough- we were all lumped in the same pile and given the same "treatment." The clear purpose of Level 1 was to remind us all that we were officially scum of the earth, and that in fact there was no lower form of life than a SO. One of the first things he ever said to me was "I don't care who or what you think of yourself. You are a sex offender. This now DEFINES you." He made it known that he didn't really want to hear what you thought were the reasons you may have offended; he would TELL you why you offended. There was to be no mention of God or faith or any of that "bullsh*t." And most importantly, at the risk of humiliation in front of a group of around 20 guys, you were to never minimize your crime. This was the greatest sin. Before I ever got to speak in group that was painfully clear. And according to our fearless leader, everyone minimizes. Everyone see their crime as "not so bad" and blames someone or something else. This way of thinking led to a problem with me. You see, I freely confessed what I did and that what I did was wrong, and that it was my fault. I was the sinner. And because there was no victim, no emails, no pictures, no phone calls and no attempt at further contact, there was no need to minimize. My crime, though very much a crime, was by the standards of this program already minimal. Just as had been the case during my 49 day sin jail back in Georgia, even the other "criminals" laughed in disbelief at that my particular offense was being punished in such a way. And the therapist knew it too. So he never wanted to talk to me. He promoted me to Level 2 in about 6 months (which was ridiculously fast compared to others) simply because he wasn't sure what to make of me. Many were much less fortunate, and the therapist took great pleasure in ripping them new ones and keeping them in Level 1- some for years. I met one man who had been in Level 1 for three years when I arrived and was still there when I left.

Another fabulously useless part of the therapy was the mandatory polygraph testing. Once a year, at great expense to the SO, we had to schedule and take a lie-detector test from one of four approved polygraphers in the county. They would hook me up to the equipment, test me with sample questions about my behavior since the last time I was there, and then administer the test. It felt like a big deal and was very stressful, even if you knew you had done nothing wrong, because such tests are notoriously unreliable. But here's the real deal- I could have confessed to robbing a bank during those sessions and it wouldn't have meant a thing. My therapist was the only one who could see the results; the legal system cannot use the results. Even my PO could only know if I passed or failed. So the worst thing that could happen was deeper questioning and more time spent in counselling paying $20 a week. I passed every time, and the polygrapher recommended each time that I didn't need to be tested again. That fell on deaf ears. The money needed to keep flowing...

Levels 2 and 3 of the program were with a different therapist, one who actually seemed to care about the individuals in his groups. These classes were all about writing papers and letters and presenting them to the other SOs in group. Some of the papers allowed for personal reflection and pondering what led you to commit your specific crime. These were actually helpful for me, as were some private (and expensive!) sessions I scheduled with the new therapist to speed up the process. The letters were supposed to be apologies to your victim and their family, so I just got to make stuff up. I enjoyed the chance to get some creative writing in. The bigger issue was for the others in those levels. Many of them had trouble with writing; they certainly had difficulty saying things the way they needed to be said for approval. Every paper and letter I wrote was approved the first time I shared it, and there were a couple of other guys like me. Some of the rest of those guys were rejected over and over again and are probably still in those levels hoping their probation will expire before they have to write anything else. I actually ghost wrote papers for three guys (including Jose, the friend I mentioned yesterday who died while still in the program) just so they could move on. I spent a year on each of those levels before being sent to Level 4 and one last battle with my original therapist. It was a skirmish that would last nearly as long as the first three levels combined.

Early on in Level 4 the Doc made it clear that he was going to try and break me. It was clear to him that I didn't feel nearly bad enough about myself, and in fact seemed much more at peace than I had back in Level 1. That was NOT the way it was supposed to work and it needed to change. He wanted me to confess to things I had not done. He wanted me to acknowledge that faith was a fantasy, that my youth ministry (for 28 years) had been a scheme to get me close to teenagers and that the church was actually a plague on society. He told me that I had no doubt ruined countless families over the years through my manipulations. At one point I told him that many parents and former youth still supported me; he called them delusional and accused me of using mind control techniques, including this blog. He tried to make me stop writing, but my PO backed me up. He wanted me to admit to being a pedophile, despite the fact that my crime had nothing at all to do with young children. (Side note: It does not help your cause in such situations to point out to a licensed therapist with a PhD that he is misusing a clinical term like "pedophile." Bad juju...) When I refused to confess to these lies, he shut me out, not talking to me in class for weeks at a time. Many weeks I boarded the bus for home with tears in my eyes, wondering if this would ever end. Finally it became clear what I had to do. Suck it up, tell him the lies he wanted to hear, and graduate. So that's what I did. At my final polygraph test the administrator asked me if I had ever lied to my therapist. I never even blinked as I responded, "YES." When he asked me what I had lied about, I told him the truth- and he was stunned. My therapy ended with me saying horrible and false things about myself so I could get out of the system. And I was not alone.

Mandatory sex offender therapy is another cosmetic illusion in the overall system. I witnessed very little effort to help SOs discover the WHY of our offenses. I saw a concentrated effort to remind us all that we were now garbage and that there was no coming back from that. They sought to (and quite often succeeded) destroy hope at every turn. It is little wonder that there are many SOs who choose to violate probation and go back to prison, because the pain and scrutiny they bear on on the "outside" just gets to be too much. I saw people punished for not being able to pay on time, while others were released early because they had attorneys who played golf with the Judges. One wealthy business man, who had molested 5 kids in his home and was a real jerk in group, served no jail time and was released halfway through Level 2 with his probation terminated because the Judge felt he had "done enough." Justice may be blind but it sure knows how to find a dollar. There is lots of lip service given to keeping offenders from reoffending, but I saw little evidence of concrete steps being taken. Personally, my biggest takeaway was a list I carry in my wallet of things I would miss if I ever reoffended. That is a huge deterrent for me. I'm not certain how well that works if you have an addiction or a mental illness that led to your offense. The public safety would be much better served by a program that encourages and rehabilitates and actually treats problems instead of telling offenders over and over again what they already believe- you screwed up, and no one loves you anymore. Now go away...

One final word. When I walked out of Level 4 as a graduate, free and clear of the mandatory therapy, I shook the hand of the therapist, looked him in the eye, and said something like this: "There is something you were wrong about from the first day we met. Being a sex offender does not define me and it never has. I believe in the love, grace and forgiveness that come from following Jesus. And THAT defines me. FOREVER!" And I will take a polygraph on that anytime you want me to. We'll wrap all of this up tomorrow.

Because of Jesus,

Don't Ruin the Chili

Once upon a time there was a guy who was a pretty good cook (Ok, he was an average cook. OK- so it was me! Now let me finish the story!!!). On one very special high holy day (Super Bowl Sunday) he decided to make his world famous (shut up and keep reading!) chili for a group of his friends. He slaved over a hot stove for hours (always wanted to say that about myself) creating a masterpiece. Upon tasting the finished product he quietly (OK, technically I screamed it) proclaimed it the world's greatest pot of chili- that he had ever made! As his friends arrived he could barely contain his enthusiasm over his culinary creation. Several of his friends were excellent cooks in their own right and began to  ask him what ingredients he had used to create the chili. He listed them, and soon the suggestions began to flow- with none of them having actually tasted his masterpiece. But since they were better cooks than he, our hero listened. One said add some garlic- and he did. Another suggested adding can of tomato paste for thickness. And he did. Another said that it didn't sound spicy enough, that perhaps in needed some tabasco sauce. So in it went. By the time he finished "fixing" the chili based on the expert advice he received, it tasted noting like his original creation. They seemed to like it, but he no longer did. All of the fun he and all of the passion he put into making the chili had been rendered moot because he didn't believe in himself enough and didn't trust his creation. His friends knew more about cooking than he did, but in this case, what he had made was already perfect. Too many cooks ruined the chili!

The same kind of thing used to happen when I would attend ministry conferences designed to encourage and uplift those who were giving their lives to various ministries. I heard this fictional conversation happen too many times, including a few times when I was Pastor Bubba and the recipient of the advice. Let's listen in:

Pastor Bubba: We started a program last year where we do an outreach event once a month at the local mall just handing out free slices of pizza and answering questions about church and youth group. We've made lots of connections and our attendance has almost doubled. It's been awesomely rad!
Expert Doug: Yes, we did that same king of thing a few years ago with similar results. But the event didn't really make a difference until we added water balloon cannons, hula dancing lessons and a Spanish speaking donkey. That's when things really took off!

Far too many times the Pastor Bubbas of the world go home from such conversations and begin to implement the changes suggested by "experts" who know next to nothing about the situation or the people that Bubba works with on a daily basis. No matter how much thought, preparation and work we put into something we always seem to be unable to accept that what we have is as good as it can be. We rush to make changes that are not helpful (Spanish speaking donkeys seldom are) because we doubt ourselves and our abilities, or, just as destructively, we are immobilized by perfectionism. If it can't be perfect, why bother? These things infiltrate our lives are cause dysfunction in many of us.

Lately these dual dilemmas have been making me a little crazy in one of my worlds- that of writers. As many of you know I finished writing a novel back in January and since that time a number of new and aspiring writers have had questions for me. Most of the questions begin with the following: "So and So says that I have to do THIS (the THIS varies) or my book won't be any good. I'm just not sure how that fits into what I am trying to do..." My response has become a bit antagonistic. I tell them if it doesn't fit their style, their story and their characters then DON'T FREAKIN' DO IT!!! The experts are not writing your book; YOU are! Writing is not a science, it is an art. There is no list of rules you must adhere to, no absolutes that make your book "right." Technically perfect writing, brilliant editing and the opinions of others are all wonderful things- if you want them. But it is the stories, the characters and most of all the PASSION that make a book great- and those all come from the writer. How did I know when my book was finally finished? When I read it one more time and thought to myself, "Now THAT is what I set out to do!" I had a story to tell and I told it the way I wanted it told. That's writing. If others like it, that's wonderful. And if they don't...sorry, but I just don't care. I listened to critiques and made some changes. There are still things that might be added- by me. But the deal is this- my chili is finished. And you don't get to add stuff...

Too many of us approach our lives wondering if we are good enough and soaking in the opinions and advice of others at an alarming rate. I have writer friends- talented, gifted writer friends- who are seemingly never going to finish projects they are working on because they're never going to think it's good enough. Every opinion, every criticism, every new review from an expert or a friend brings about more changes and another rewrite, sometimes to the point that the original vision for the piece has disappeared completely. Every checklist of ways to "Be A Better Writer" is absorbed like Hemingway himself has spoken to them. There is a great story told about the late Tom Clancy, writer of numerous best selling books. When he was writing The Hunt for Red October he submitted a manuscript in which one of the primary heroic characters was named Jack Ryan. His editors thought the name too bland and pushed Clancy to change it. His response to them was simple and brilliant. "I can't change the name," Clancy retorted,"because the man's name IS Jack Ryan." Jack Ryan went on to become an iconic name in both print and cinema, the featured player in nearly a dozen best sellers. Sometimes an artist, a cook or a youth pastor KNOWS what is right, knows what works and simply needs to say no to any more changes. Sometimes the most important thing is to be done and to be satisfied with your own work. Our work will never be perfect; even God's work has flaws. Just look at me! Just as we are created to be who we are, let our creations be good enough for us. Whatever your gifts are, use them to the best of your ability and don't be overwhelmed by the opinions of others. Especially if they call themselves experts...

So what's the point of this rambling rant that would never make it past a professional editor? Simple. Don't ruin the chili. Have a blessed day and a great weekend!

Because of Jesus,