My Crazy Crushes

Growing up I was not one of those teens who had celebrity crushes. Maybe it was because I wasn't allowed to hang posters on my bedroom walls; maybe it was because I couldn't and still can't remember names of actors, musicians and what not. Whatever the reason, it just wasn't me. But....

Give me a good theologian, and even better a published good theologian--and then I become like a

crazed Beatles fan the first time the Beatles came to America. I read everything I can get my hands on and learn as much about their lives as I can. I follow their social media and "like" everything. You might say I become obsessed--I prefer to call it engaged. But I do know that if I lived in North Georgia, there would probably be a cease and desist order preventing me from driving back and forth in front of Barbara Brown Taylor's house hoping she would come down the driveway--yes, it is true, I have done that.

And just like any good fan, I think they hung the moon and I want to, and usually do, agree with everything they say--truth, I want them to like me should I ever meet them. I get dizzy if they ever respond to one of my tweets, blogs, or social media posts...you get the picture...

And then came Sunday morning....

You've probably heard of The Red Hen by now and how the owner asked Sarah Huckabee Sanders to leave. Twitter and Facebook were blowing up with high fives and support--some by my favorite "crushes." So like any good obsessed fan, I jumped on the bandwagon, and guess what?!?!?! One of them liked my tweet!!! It was like nirvana for me, except I felt queasy and a bit uncomfortable. I tried to ignore it--she had LIKED my tweet!!!

Tuesday morning I was driving to my preaching group listening to the news. Someone was being criticized for saying "cotton pickin' mind." I was a little ashamed it took me a few minutes to put together why this was insulting. I had grown up hearing and saying this very phrase never thinking about it's origin (I had the same realization with what my grandparents used to call brazilian nuts). Like a dog on the scent of a rabbit racing through the woods, my mind went all over the place. I reminded myself the world was evolving--people were understanding and bringing to light many ways we have abused, neglected and oppressed others not recognizing the dignity of every human being. For so many years we have looked at some groups of people with one dimensional eyes. Suddenly I spoke these words out loud (another not quite normal behavior). "I'm not sure I do agree about The Red Hen." I hesitated waiting for I don't know what, but the world didn't end, so I breathed a sigh of relief and continued my thinking. I wondered how asking SHS to leave was respecting her dignity as a human being? From what I've read she wasn't disturbing anyone; she wasn't requiring others dining in the restaurant to listen to her. Was asking her to leave really a way of only acknowledging one part of her personhood--that of press secretary--and ignoring she is also a wife, mother, daughter and friend? I admitted to myself I personally wouldn't have wanted to eat with her or even talk to her, but I wondered about Jesus. I didn't want to think about it--I like agreeing with those I admire and respect. But, I admire and respect them; I don't worship them. So I began to think about who I do worship--God, and I wondered what Jesus would do, and I admitted to myself I don't believe Jesus would have asked her to leave. I believe Jesus would have sat down and eaten with her AND even picked up the check. I believe if Jesus was there and saw her leaving, he would have left with her. I also believe Jesus would ask me to do the same even if it meant losing the respect of others I love. (For the record, I do believe Jesus would have lovingly challenged SHS about some of her behavior as well....)

And then that thing happened that happens to me sometimes--the thing that feels like I need to go potty and I can't think about anything else until I do it, except the thing for me is writing. I knew I had to write about what I really thought. But I certainly didn't want to run the risk of one of my crushes thinking I was a terrible priest and/or person. So I allowed my inner teenager, you know the one that knows how to manipulate and justify like there's no tomorrow, take over. I decided I would write about the incident in my weekly letter to my congregation. True some might not agree with me, but it wasn't that many people who would read it, and truthfully I couldn't think of anyone who would lambast me. I convinced myself I could write about it without running the risk of alienating people I admire, my crushes and even some of my very closest friends because they would now know what I really believe and it might be different from their beliefs. I could get rid of the potty urgency feeling and still feel safe.

This morning as I was preparing to write the letter that stinking potty feeling came back stronger than ever along with the thought, "Don't be a coward." More importantly I thought about what hiding was really saying. It was saying I didn't trust the community of faith. It was saying my need to be liked and respected was more important to me than standing up for what I believe is right and being willing to have others disagree. It was denying the opportunity for dialogue. It was denying the three fold sources authority used by The Episcopal Church, the three legged stool -Scripture, tradition and reason, and it was denying this tool was best used in community.

Most importantly it was denying myself. It was denying I had another way of understanding the incident which didn't mean I was right and others were wrong. I believe many who have written, tweeted, and posted share my beliefs that God loves everyone no exceptions and everyone deserves to be treated with dignity and respect. I also believe we as Christians and leaders in our faith need to practice how to disagree as we walk in love. Hiding was denying we can disagree and still love.

I still have my idols; I still believe they have much to teach me, I will still get giggly when they recognize me, but I also believe I can love them, admire them and still at times disagree and I believe that's okay.