During many summer afternoons in Houston, the skies often darken and thunder rumbles ominously and lightning arcs across the sky and Houston’s 27.5 million drivers (all of whom are on Interstate 10) slow down to a safe rate of speed (also known as “parking”) because—though I haven’t experienced this myself—many cars will spontaneously fill with Cheez Whiz should they be driven in the rain at any speed over 7 miles per hour. But despite the impressive show in the skies, more often than not, it never does rain. And the azaleas all wither and the grass turns brown and asphalt in the parking lots turns to Silly Putty and becomes one with your sneaker soles and Houston just keeps groaning for a little relief.
What I saw in the Gopher State at the General Assembly was a demonstration very similar to Houston’s summertime weather. There was a great deal of rumbling, some ominous signs, a lot of sound, and the same results as the Houston thunderclouds bring—continued groaning (in the Gopher State I also saw a statue of Mary Tyler Moore. They did not have a statue of Ted Knight. Or even Gavin MacLeod. I did not see a gopher, though).
The rumbling came in the form of the presentation of approximately 748 (or was it 749?) different motions, overtures, and hysterical sobbing pleas centered around “social justice.” “Social justice” occurs when Tiffany, that stuck up cheerleader who is always criticizing your hair, totally forgets her conditioner after showering after gym class and her hair like just completely frizzes out the rest of the day and even though she tries to hide it under a ball cap and pony tail, you totally know it is a mess under there and you can say, “nice hat, Tiff.” That’s some social justice for you.
No, "social justice" is an epidemic that is sweeping the nation, just like SARS. Or Bird Flu. Or maybe gingivitis. It is so severe that there were TWO committees to deal with all of the pressing social justice issues. There was a THIRD committee as well but they renamed it “Peacemaking” and no one was the wiser. All three committees sought to deal with the 593 horrific issues that CNN claims will cause the earth to spontaneously combust or crash into Venus or cause David Hasselhoff to remain popular.
But how is this “Social Justice” virus spread? “Do I need to wear a surgical mask to choir practice?” you may ask. How does social justice happen? The first way is through unclean toilet seats. “Always use the disposable seat covers, even at home” is something I say all the time. The other method is through that petri dish of church business: the committee. For example, lets look at a committee meeting at the Presbytery of The Mildewed Hills, where an individual who, while eating his morning bowl of Cocoa Puffs, caught about 5 minutes of a “CNN American Morning" report about the horrific working conditions endured by birthday rent-a-clowns, and he is appalled by the horrificness of it. Based on his now-extensive knowledge of the subject, he tells the committee that something should be done.
“I know we were talking about sending a group to Haiti to help earthquake victims find potable water, but for me the bigger issue is how we are going to solve the problem of the horrific clown working conditions!”
“Don’t you mean ‘the clown’s horrific working conditions’?”
“Whatever, We need to do something. It is horrific”
“We could hold a bake sale!”
“We can all wear ribbons in support. But really BIG ribbons, like a clown would wear!”
“I’VE GOT IT! We’ll draft a resolution condemning the horrific working conditions and pass it on to General Assembly! That should end this horrific problem once and for all!”
“Huzzah!” (It being a Presbyterian committee, there are a lot of old folks in attendance and they probably still say “Huzzah!” Or at least “That’s a whiz-bang idea, slugger!”)
So later that year, the resolution reaches one of the three GA committees and well over 3/4 of the committee members are wildly enthusiastic about making a statement about the horrific plight of the clowns and they approve it for plenary. Once there, the clown report is presented to the body of commissioners along with 748 other vitally important statements we as a church need to make if we are to save the earth from certain doom. The upside to all of this is that you get to hear a few really great speeches that supporters have obviously copped from their favorite comic books or sci-fi fantasy movies, like “The time has come for the people of this planet to rise as one against this horrific threat to our very existence! We must show the Gorgons, err... We must show Bank of America that we are not to be trifled with!” Wild applause follows and, often, a mock light saber battle in the aisle.
So I sat in the convention hall and listened to the sad litany of the world’s problems, which was a lot like watching Headline News without attractive anchors or commercials for Sham-Wow. But after the first 17 or so proclamations, I began to lose interest and drifted back to the compelling Tetris game I had on my laptop. And still the overtures kept coming—no one could possibly keep track, let alone understand the nuances and implications of any of these issues. I might as well have been voting for Major League Lacrosse All Star team or the finest lutefisk restaurant in Iceland (editor’s note: Ole’s Little Reykjavik Lutefisk Palace is excellent, but I don’t know if it is the best).
After this part of the docket has been approved, you wonder why we took time to vote at all, At face value, what sane person wouldn’t support a stand against violence or human rights violations or Paris Hilton? But in the perspective of history, these are the type of unfortunate situations that have always and will always be with us. There are no real solutions here at all—simply condemnations, calls for dialogues, letters to Congress, and threats to tell our dads. I don’t recall the passages about Jesus sending the Romans a manifesto demanding they disband their armies or end the practice of crucifixion.
Sometimes there are situations that simply must be addressed. But at this moment, is there anything resembling The Holocaust? Apartheid? The Rwandan Genocide? The 1976 Tampa Bay Buccaneers? Apartheid was essentially ended by the efforts of Bishop Tutu and the churches of South Africa uniting against an obvious injustice. I don’t believe capping credit card debt has the same gravitas as ending apartheid. (editors note: gravitas is excellent on bagels with a little cream cheese and some capers). Is the rest of the world looking at us Christians and saying “How can you let this happen? When will you do something about the profane language on television and in movies (editors note: this was an actual overture presented and passed this year)?
Also, by taking on these issues, is PC(USA) duplicating the efforts of hundreds of already existing secular or church-based organizations? Is it any church’s job to protect coastal wetlands (editors note: this was also an actual overture)? In 2012, will we discuss developing Pop Tarts as an alternative energy source or advocate releasing Joe Biden back into the wild? Is it wise to spend money on initiatives that are already in place and run by people who may have a better understanding of the situation rather than, say, people who may have read about it in USA Today (editors note: for you internet and video- only types, this is a “newspaper” found only in hotel lobbies).
You might say that when you say everything, you say nothing at all (this would also be a great country music lyric). “The Man” is not going to listen to a group who rails against EVERY social ill that blows down the road, including illnesses which blow down roads. Until the denomination is ready to throw its weight behind one or two issues rather than 57, “The Man” will never listen. Of course, even if the denomination stands united in a cause, there is little chance “The Man” will listen because why would he listen to an organization hemorrhaging members, heading for bankruptcy, continuing with bitter infights, and exerting little to no influence over today’s society. Also, they are not very sharp dressers.
In looking over some opinion pieces, analyses of these latest social justice pronouncements, and my fantasy football guidebook, I found a quote from John Leith reminding us that “the church has one unique thing which no one else can do—spread the Gospel.” The proclamation of the Gospel is a light to others. When the Gospel is spread, the light is spread and people, vocations, corporations, and even nations are elevated. If everyone would tackle that issue, then maybe instead of Houston-like weather, there would be a light sprinkle, leading to a big rainstorm, and perhaps a tropical depression of love and some groanings would be relieved.
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