And They'll Know we are Christians by Our......

 “But what about you?” [Jesus] asked. “Who do you say I am?”  Peter answered, “God’s Messiah.” - Luke 9:20, NIV

We're learning something this summer, again: some people don't have a very warm opinion of Christians.


As the hundreds of Discover participants come through Hollywood this summer, they are having countless conversations with people on the streets, people they are serving alongside, and people they are meeting who are on a path towards greater self-sufficiency.  

Discover Participants from Washington and Minnesota

The wonderful women from St. Matthew's in Madison, Mississippi

St. Apollinaris Catholic Church at Hollywood Presbyterian.

Once again, a great group from Walnut Creek Pres!

Each week, we learn of yet another Veteran living homelessly who says something like, "I saw the cross around your neck and immediately got ready to be judged."  

Yesterday, someone asked me why we don't send volunteers to Out Of The Closet, a local thrift store operation raising money for HIV/AIDS prevention and treatment.  I reported that we've tried, but as soon as the store director learned we were a faith-based organization, he said, "no, we can't have church volunteers anymore, I can't put my staff through that again."  

Many times I've noticed the "Jesus, Save Me From Your Followers" bumper stickers and smiled at the painful irony of it.  

Some of our Discover groups are helping a local homeless relief agency by canvassing churches to find out their level of outreach programming for their homeless neighbors.  Many discouraged young people are returning to report that more churches than they'd have imagined are doing nothing, and one associate pastor actually said, "the homeless? We're doing everything we can to get them OUT of our congregation.  We're tired of them."

What are we doing?  Our pastor at Hollywood Presbyterian Church recently asked the congregation, who would we, as Christians, say that Jesus is if he sat down in front of us and asked us directly?  

Who indeed.

As the writer of this blog, I'm not immune to this criticism.  On Election Day, 2008, my wife and I were flying from Pittsburgh back to Burbank.  On a layover in Vegas, we learned that Mr. Obama was clearly on his way to victory.  When we deplaned back in California, we found ourselves and everyone else gravitating to the airport television monitors, listening to Mr. McCain and the man who would become our next President.  

The monitor we found ourselves at was quite a gathering.  Smokey Robinson, Civil-Rights era Motown Legend and his manager, a Persian-American woman, a Latino family, two Mormon missionaries, and my wife and I were some of the faces in this crowd.  But directly next to me was a gay couple, two men in their fifties, arms around one another.  Many people were crying, as were they, but there's were a different kind of tears, more complicated.  You see, that election was also the time when Proposition 8 passed in California, effectively saying that marriage between two men, or two women, would not be recognized.    The lower third of the television screen conveyed this information as Barack Obama talked about the changes that had finally come.  Most of the tears were exuberant and coupled with boisterous, hearty embraces.  (Yes, I stole a hug with Smokey).  But these two men, stood calmly with smiles on their faces, tears streaming down, unblinking.  Something was to be celebrated, another thing was to be mourned.

And I suddenly knew that it was no accident I noticed them.  God was asking me, then, "Matthew, who do you say that I am?"  For God knew how judgmental I'd become towards the gay community.  To be fair, this was not the run-of-the-mill-Christian-Bible-thumping judgmentalism on folks identifying as gay.  My walk with Jesus started from that community at one time, and I myself have a large portion of experience from around, and within, that place.  (But that is a blog for another day.)  Suffice it to say, my stepping into something new, something different, meant that I produced a kind of shield around my "old self."   And, as it would happen, a pervasive judgment amidst my inner thoughts.  Outwardly, this meant I avoided gay people at almost every turn.  

And yet, that evening, watching those quiet tears, I felt overwhelmed with humanity.  Whether or not I agreed with Proposition 8, whether or not I believe that my marriage is, or is not, any more legitimate than anyone else's, I could feel the pain.  Where so much of the United States was celebrating a new clang on the freedom bell and the expansion of possibility, this couple's world got a little harder.  They may have been smiling over Obama's win, but mourning the closing of a door they had been fighting to open, and feeling on the outside of this momentous celebration.  I felt a sudden urge to embrace them, and I did.  I know it was probably more for myself than I'd like to admit, but I felt God moving through me, and I'm grateful beyond measure that God planted them right beside me that evening.

Who is Jesus?  Today, I'm remembering that Jesus was a human being, humbly and completely.  How we treat one another as human beings seems to matter, and I'm thankful for all these young people who keep coming to Hollywood to walk alongside other people, to listen, to share, to serve, to receive, to laugh, to cry together.  It matters.

The Discern team, Crystal, Isaac, Matthew, Erin, Sean, Edzel and Kyle