(This was a sermon I preached at Fountain Street Church on June 26 and just now got around to putting on my blog. Oh those lazy days of summer.)
First I want to thank Fountain Street Church for inviting me to speak here today and Fred Wooden and Matthew and the Summer Speaker Series folks. As you may know, I was a member here at Fountain Street Church for about fifteen years. I was on the Board of Trustees; I was on the Social Action Committee; so it’s good to be home. I want to thank all of you for taking the time to be here. I’m always pleasantly surprised when anybody shows up to hear me speak.
As you may also know, I’m the founding chaplain of Interfaith Congregation in Holland. I called it Interfaith Congregation because I was afraid that if I called it Fountain Street West, Fred would sue me.
When I was a kid, my grandma would take us to Cascade Christian Church on Sunday mornings. When I was seven or eight years old, I was in the Christmas pageant. I was one of the three wise men, not exactly typecasting, but anyway, I had to memorize a song. (singing) “We three kings of Orient are, bearing gifts we traverse afar.” That one. I’m a merciful guy so I’ll stop there.
I want to talk to you this morning about the three kings I follow. Those are not the three kings. As legend has it, they were going to see Christ the King. The Magi. Jesus. Christians are supposed to follow Christ the King, but that’s not one of the kings I follow. I follow Jesus. I mean, how can you not follow a guy who says, “Blessed are the peacemakers.” “Love your enemies.” “Love one another.”
I have coffee in Holland every now and then with an orthodox Christian friend of mine. (Pretty much, that’s all that’s in Holland, but anyway.) He emails me whenever I have a piece in the Grand Rapids Press or the Holland Sentinel. He wants to get together and set me straight. A few weeks ago, he was talking about Jesus. I said, “I believe in Jesus.” He said, “Yes, but what’s his last name?” (Christ, of course.)
Some of you may know that I went to Western Theological Seminary, for practical reasons. I didn’t want to go to Chicago or New York or Boston or San Francisco because my daughter was here and I didn’t want to be separated from her, so I went to Holland, to Western Theological Seminary. Back then, I went to Duncan Littlefair to sort of get his permission to do that, because I was afraid I wasn’t doing the right thing and so I said, “Duncan, you know I’m going to go to Western Theological Seminary.” He looked at me and he said, “That’s brilliant, Bill! Go where the enemy is!”
So I went to Western Theological Seminary, where I was called “the high priest of heresy.” I think it was a joke, but you never know. I was assigned to preach my first sermon in chapel on April Fool’s Day. They said it was just a coincidence, that the “high priest of heresy” was assigned to preach his first sermon in chapel on April Fool’s Day. After the service, the then president of the seminary came up to me and said, “Nice job, but I think my Christology is a little higher than yours.” I said, “Yes, but I have a high “Jesus-ology.” I follow a guy who says, “Blessed are the peacemakers,” but he’s not one of the three kings I want to talk to you about today.
In August of 1963, one of the greatest sermons ever was preached in Washington, D.C., although we don’t call it a sermon, we call it a speech. We call it his “I have a dream” speech. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. said, “I have a dream that one day all of God’s children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing.” Those are the words I live by at Interfaith Congregation. I think you all do, too, here at Fountain Street Church. To have a group of people who come together regardless of the color of their skin, regardless of their faith tradition. I think that’s where the religious world, the spiritual world, is heading, to come to a place where everybody knows that we’re all one, that they aren’t divided by denominations or separated by spiritual traditions, that they’re all one. That’s what I try to do at Interfaith Congregation and you try to do here, I’m sure. It’s because of those words that Dr. King is the first king I follow.
Back when I was in high school, many, many, many years ago, an album came out that was the number one best-selling album ever, until Michael Jackson’s album “Thriller.” It’s called “Tapestry.” I think I still have a vinyl copy of it someplace, maybe you do, too. By Carole King, of course. On that album are many number one hits, including the song, “You’ve Got a Friend.”
“When you’re down and troubled, and you need some loving care,” Carole King says, “You’ve got a friend.” I like that because really that describes what a church is supposed to be, at least in part. A church is supposed to be a place where you can go when you feel down and troubled and you need some loving care. Now church isn’t just about that. If it’s just about that, then it’s a social club. It’s no different than the Kiwanis Club or the Rotary. But a church is at least partly about that, a place for people to come where they can mourn with those who suffer and rejoice with those who celebrate. That’s what I know you try to do here and Matthew tries to do here at Fountain Street Church and what I try to do at Interfaith Congregation. A church isn’t just a social club.
It’s not just a lecture hall either. Some people think a church is just a lecture hall. Let me share with you my favorite Fountain Street Church story. You’ve probably heard this. The late Bill Kooistra told me that he had a Catholic friend. (You know Bill Kooistra was a long-time member here at Fountain Street Church, of course.) He had a Catholic friend and they would get together and needle each other every now and then. His Catholic friend would say to Bill, “So, Bill, how were things Sunday at the lecture hall?” And Bill would say, “Great! How were things Sunday at the magic show?” Now church isn’t just a lecture hall. And it’s not really a magic show, although I think what we heard this morning [the music] was very magical. A church is a community of love, where people come together and I think Carole King describes it very well, and that’s why Carole King is the second king that I follow.
Back in 1992, a motorist in Los Angeles was stopped by the police. He was dragged out of his car, laid on the ground, and beaten nearly to death. We only know about that because people videotaped Rodney King being beaten nearly to death by police officers. The police officers were put on trial. As you probably know, they were found not guilty and rioting resulted. I remember seeing a white truck driver being pulled out of his cab by some African American youth and he was beaten nearly to death. In fact, back then in a previous life, I was a radio talk show host. Somebody called my show and said, “See, now we’re even. It’s even steven. A black motorist was beaten nearly to death by cops, and a white guy was beaten nearly to death by some African American youth. Now we’re even.” I said, “No, I don’t think so. We don’t pay the police to be thugs, which is what they were when they beat up Rodney King.” As you know, the police were put on trial again, for violating Rodney King’s civil rights. This time they were found guilty. During all this tension, Rodney King went to the microphones and in a halting, hesitant way, he said, “Can we all get along? Can we all get along?” It was a profound question back then. It still applies today.
Some Muslims want to put up a cultural center in New York City near ground zero. Many people, including many Christians, went berserk. They tried to claim that this was going to result in some terrorist activity, as if the Muslims didn’t have the right to peaceably assemble, as if they didn’t have the First Amendment right of freedom of religion. Can we all get along? Can we all get along?
A so-called Christian pastor down in Florida was going to burn a Qur’an. He didn’t then, but later on he did, which resulted in some innocent people in the Middle East being killed by some Muslim extremists. I can only wonder what would happen if a Christian New Testament were burned in the Middle East, what the results would be. Can we all get along? Can we all get along?
When Barack Obama was elected president, according to the Southern Poverty Law Center, threats against his life compared to threats against the previous president increased by 400 per cent. Four hundred percent. On election day 2008, I was standing on one of the busiest street corners in Holland, holding a sign indicating who I supported for president. (Who I supported doesn’t matter, although you’ll probably figure it out.) I’m standing there, a pickup truck drives up and stops at the corner and the driver leans over to the passenger side window, which was rolled down, and said to me, “I ain’t gonna vote for no “n-word,” although he didn’t say “n-word.” Can we all get along? Can we all get along?
As was mentioned, as you probably know, I went before the Holland City Council a little more than a year ago and I asked them to add the words “sexual orientation” and “gender identity” to their ordinances that protect people from being discriminated against on the basis of race and age and religion and different things. I didn’t expect the mayor to give me the key to the city or anything, and I didn’t expect him to look like that old V-8 vegetable commercial, “Oh, Bill, why didn’t I think of this before? Thank you for bringing this to our attention!” But I lived in Grand Rapids almost 20 years ago now when the City of Grand Rapids passed a similar ordinance. I thought, “Why not Holland?” After handing it off to the Human Relations Commission for almost a year, who studied it and reported back unanimously that the city council should pass it, the city council had one meeting, just one public meeting, at which, as you probably know, they voted 5-4 not to do that. Well, I kind of stormed out of that meeting angry, but I’m a minister, so of course I wasn’t “angry,” I was “righteously indignant.” I went up to the TV cameras and said, “I’m going to collect petition signatures and put this on the ballot.” Now I don’t know whether or not that will pass in Holland. I’d like to think Holland is better than that 5-4 vote. Can we all get along? Can we all get along? It’s those words that make Rodney King the third king that I follow.
Who do you follow? What words inspire you? What kings or queens do you listen to? Perhaps the prophet Micah, who preached about doing justice and loving kindness and walking humbly. Maybe you follow your own conscience, which of course we all have to do. But what is it that inspires you to do whatever needs to be done to make this world a better place?
One of my favorite presidents, who unfortunately had only one inaugural address, but what an inaugural address it was, President Kennedy, at the end of his inaugural address, I think succinctly states what I’m trying to say. He said, “Let us go forth to lead the land we love, asking God’s blessing, and God’s help, but knowing that, here on earth, God’s work must truly be our own.” Now I know this is Fountain Street Church and I’m not really supposed to mention God, but try to get past that word and replace it with Love or Truth or the Universe or Source and let’s get to the essence of what he was saying. What he was saying is, we can’t rely on some Creator or some Source or some Spirit to do the work for us; we have to do it ourselves. We have to work to make the world a better place if the world is going to be a better place.
A few weeks ago, like more than a million people, I was astounded looking at my computer screen, looking at youtube, looking at a video that Roger Ebert said was the greatest music video that he’s ever seen. Of course you know that I’m talking about what’s called the “Grand Rapids Lip Dub.” You know, as an old TV guy, it was just unbelievable, one continuous shot, that ends up in a helicopter flying over Grand Rapids. Rob Bliss, whose vision this was, with the help of hundreds and corporate sponsors and foundations and everything, made this video. Inspired people, I think. Changed perceptions. Changed Newsweek’s perception, I guess, that Grand Rapids is a dying city. That’s what Rob Bliss did to inspire, to change perceptions, to make the world a better place. What will we do? Now I know out of Fountain Street Church has come Planned Parenthood and Project Rehab (speaking of Bill Kooistra). I know that individuals do things in their careers and in their daily lives that make the world a better place. But what will we do now? What’s next? What is it that you and I will do - whoever it is we follow - to make the world a better place?
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