Three is a Magic Number

In Minnesota, there’s an online outcry about a black Santa at the Mall of America.   Apparently, some people are so appalled by a black Santa , they took to trolling.   All kinds of crazy are happening in this opposition, because Santa -- as an imaginary character -- can take on any race.   He’s imaginary.   Made up.   Pretend.   Doesn’t a little girl or boy have the right to imagine Santa in whatever color his/her little mind can dream up?!? But now, Jesus… Jesus is a different story.   Jesus actually is a color.   Jesus lived at a certain time, in a certain place.   Misrepresenting Jesus’ race is an actual problem.   Jesus was a real, live brown person, yet we make him out to be white all the time .   Where’s the outrage? When you see a Caucasian nativity scene, how often do you notice it’s wrong or incorrect?   For many years, white Jesus didn’t phase me—I was blind to noticing it.   In fact, in the past, I probably would have noticed a black Jesus though, becau

Beware of false prophets, who come to you in sheep’s clothing but inwardly are ravenous wolves.   You will know them by their fruits. Are grapes gathered from thorns, or figs from thistles?   In the same way, every good tree bears good fruit, but the bad tree bears bad fruit.  Matthew 7:15–17 As a United Methodist clergy person, I’ve had to defend my “fruit” in order to move forward in the ministry candidacy process.   My character has been, and will continue to be, judged by the results of my work, the impact and influence of my words on others, and whether I bring out the best in people or whether I harm others. That has me thinking:   maybe we should apply that same fruit-focused litmus test to our political candidates.   The thing that absolutely bothers me most about Trump’s candidacy and election is that he creates, stirs, and/or emboldens hate in some people… and that is scary as hell, particularly for my friends of color, friends with disabilities, friends who id

Two weeks ago, as worship was about to start, I looked out into my church’s Commons through the back sanctuary glass doors.   Our Commons area was filled to the brim.   Wall-to-wall tables:   fair trade tea and coffee for sale, t-shirt orders being taken, a welcome desk with gift bags, Turkey Dinner tickets for sale, prayer key chains for the taking, photo signups for the directory, a check-in for flu shots, and donuts, fruit, and coffee down the hall.   I leaned over and whispered to my partner-in-crime (aka lead pastor), “An old pastor of mine used to say, ‘It’s right about now that Jesus comes in and turns over tables.’”     About 10 years ago, in my previous church where I was a layperson, November was a really busy month.   The Narthex was filled with tables for various sales and signups (similar to the Commons area of my new church).   I personally loved the energy during November; the hustle and bustle somehow found its way into worship and gave worship a jolt.   A