And the bands played...

Two weeks ago I was in the heart of Northern Ireland. In the western part of Belfast. I had just finished going into a local pub called “the Gin Palace” where supposedly some ungodly amounts of Guinness were polished off nightly. I thought that I may help them out in their endeavor; however no one was interested in talking to me in there. But as I left, staring at me, in front of the hostel, was a marching band. It was a parade. The beautiful brightly colored flags were waving; there were about ten snare drummers, twenty flutists and a base drummer that was kicking his bass drum’s ass (One of the funniest things to watch). As the crowd began to gather, more bands came. I asked naively what this was, and someone told me it was a Band Parade. I asked what is it for, and they clarified: “it’s a parade…with bands.” I knew this person was not going to be terribly helpful and asked someone else… and someone said that it was a competition. Soon I landed a question on a man full of tattoos and with a shaved head (which every man and boy in Ireland is either bald or has a shaved head): “who do you think is going to win?” To which a Cockney accent declared “no one will win.”

I soon had a new best friend due to my purchasing him a pint of Harp and he shared with me a plethora of off color jokes. It turns out my new best friend Dennis was a stanch Protestant. He had arrived in Belfast 30 years prior, stationed there to keep the peace. I had seen what peace had done earlier that day. As my bus crossed the division between the protestant neighborhood into the catholic neighborhood, I saw the murals the poked fun of each side’s interpretation of the other’s versions of peace: depictions of massacres, caricatures of the other side making them out to be monsters. Finally I caught a glimpse of something even more disturbing: “The Peace Wall of Belfast.” And between houses was erected a 25 foot fence that looked as if it was out of some post apocalyptic movie. The Peace wall’s thinly woven steel grating was saturated by barb and razor wire as well as prongs to “keep the peace.” I guess anything that would stop the bottle bombs.

Dennis shared with me his side of who the other was. His view of the “finians” as he called the catholic side, was one that was shaped by 25 years of service to the UK army. 25 years of war: Bombings, his friends dying, and his heart breaking over and over again. As a result the finians we not people to Dennis, they were filth that needed to be swept up. He had created a hard persona that seemed to get crazier the more pints of Harp I bought him. However, I found his stories fascinating. It was like watching a train wreck… you know its going to be bad… but somehow you can’t take your eyes off of it.

He leaned over to me and asked me what I thought of the bands. I said they are beautiful… I wish I knew the occasion. To which he told me “you think this is great, you need to come here July 12th. What a site! Ten times the amount of bands are playing in the streets, and then they go and play on the finian side as well.” --- Now in a lot of American High schools the status of the boy in the band is not too favorable…and the status of the boy who plays flute in the band is usually not too well received--- however, I soon realized what the status was of these men who played their flutes so proudly. Their main purpose in playing, was to create unrest. Their playing was a war cry. And as they entered the parts of town that they were not allowed, riots would follow. And as I stood there I realized how correct Dennis was when he told me “no one will win.”

When I woke up the next morning, I began to realize the magnitude of the hatred of these two groups, the Catholics and the Protestants. I soon felt sick to my stomach to realize that the people’s faith label had turned into a gang name. The heart of the message was extracted because of people’s lack of living by the message. Incidentally, John Stewart asked his audience on the daily show as a picture of Jesus floated above him “Have you ever tried to live your life by what this guy has to say? I mean, after about an hour or so you need some me time.” But somehow that jocose poking fun at living your life religiously loses its humor when your religion becomes your gang. Later when I arrived in Dublin I got to meet someone who was in the IRA (someone who “fights for his country”), and sure enough his bands were playing loudly… and for him no one was winning.

And there once was a man in the 1st century whose bands were playing. And the thing is when your bands are playing you can’t really hear who is winning. You’re so enamored by the music--the sound of your own tune--that you have no idea that you’re not winning. And unfortunately the sound of your own tune doesn’t allow yourself to see that the person next to you isn’t winning either. The man’s name was Saul. And Saul was a man who was involved in a gang of Jews. And their gang’s tune justified murder to them. And more importantly it justified murdering Christians. This man became notorious for his hunt. He was a man who was truly feared by all Christians at the time. It actually took an act of God to stop this man from marching to his own tune. After being commissioned by the chief priest to act as judge jury and executioner, Saul had quite an experience on the way to Damascus.

3He set off. When he got to the outskirts of Damascus, he was suddenly dazed by a blinding flash of light. 4As he fell to the ground, he heard a voice: "Saul, Saul, why are you out to get me?" 5He said, "Who are you, Master?" "I am Jesus, the One you're hunting down. 6I want you to get up and enter the city. In the city you'll be told what to do next." 7His companions stood there dumbstruck--they could hear the sound, but couldn't see anyone-- 8while Saul, picking himself up off the ground, found himself stone blind. They had to take him by the hand and lead him into Damascus. 9He continued blind for three days. He ate nothing, drank nothing. 10There was a disciple in Damascus by the name of Ananias. The Master spoke to him in a vision: "Ananias." "Yes, Master?" he answered. 11"Get up and go over to Straight Avenue. Ask at the house of Judas for a man from Tarsus. His name is Saul. He's there praying. 12He has just had a dream in which he saw a man named Ananias enter the house and lay hands on him so he could see again." 13Ananias protested, "Master, you can't be serious. Everybody's talking about this man and the terrible things he's been doing, his reign of terror against your people in Jerusalem! 14And now he's shown up here with papers from the Chief Priest that give him license to do the same to us." 15But the Master said, "Don't argue. Go! I have picked him as my personal representative to Gentiles and kings and Jews. 16And now I'm about to show him what he's in for--the hard suffering that goes with this job." 17So Ananias went and found the house, placed his hands on blind Saul, and said, "Brother Saul, the Master sent me, the same Jesus you saw on your way here. He sent me so you could see again and be filled with the Holy Spirit." 18No sooner were the words out of his mouth than something like scales fell from Saul's eyes--he could see again! He got to his feet, was baptized, 19and sat down with them to a hearty meal.

This man marching to the tune of “murderer in God’s name”…he was cleansing the world of blasphemers. Someone who is a Jew through and through… God came in and changed his tune. (He was now in charge of telling non-Jews--the lowly unclean non-Jews) He was now in charge of telling the non-Jews about God. How much Karma is that?

Saul was a Jew, and I don’t want rail on other religions doing stuff in God’s name that’s fucked up. There are far too many people in Christianity doing terrible things in the name of God to address. I’m sticking to my small circle of influence and knowledge base. OH we can go to the far right crazies like Pat Robertson who gets a little tongue-tied when talking about the Venezuelan President, asking for governmental assassination, or kidnapping… however he would like you to interpret it. AND We can address the haughty criticisms of men who believe somehow that Hurricane Katrina, and its devastation, is God’s judgment of the “sinful city” of New Orleans. (Which by the way does point out their myopic and shallow view of who God is, and their true lack of understanding of what is actually happening when calamity occurs) But I would rather take on something a little bit more personal… Something that we can’t just dismiss because its “out there” …because it doesn’t get national coverage…I want to talk about what we do in the name of God?

In the summer of ’95, in the fervor of my becoming a Christian at 20, I had the only conversation that I would ever have with my best friend Timory about my faith… It quickly turned into a political discussion about abortion. And about hell. Both of which I was merely quoting items that I simply heard from other people in my church. That next April, my friend was dead. She fell out of a three story window on her birthday. I didn’t have the ability to convey the grace I was shown. She had been blocked by the noise of my band, but I hadn’t gotten the chance to understand the sheet music yet. The bands of Christianity’s bad press were playing for me, and it seemed as if my band was going down a street to cause a riot… and it grieved me, and her, and we never talked of my faith again.

And my heart still goes out to Timory, and the music that she heard that night from my mouth I hope no one would hear again. Because the title of the tune the fife was playing was “MY GOD IS A PRICK.” And I had no clue, until she died, that no one was winning.

Dennis’s band in Belfast was playing the strong fife call of the Red hand of Ulster… the protestant symbol, but as I got to know him better I found that he was both protestant…and atheist. Sure enough no one was winning.

The man Saul in the first century, in fact he did change his tune and his name. And sure enough Paul the apostle went on to dive into the non-Jewish world. He wrote this in his first letter to the church in Corinth:
13:1 If I could speak in any language in heaven or on earth[a] but didn't love others, I would only be making meaningless noise like a loud gong or a clanging cymbal. 2If I had the gift of prophecy, and if I knew all the mysteries of the future and knew everything about everything, but didn't love others, what good would I be? And if I had the gift of faith so that I could speak to a mountain and make it move, without love I would be no good to anybody. 3If I gave everything I have to the poor and even sacrificed my body, I could boast about it;[b] but if I didn't love others, I would be of no value whatsoever.

Paul knew his past actions of murder in God’s name were the meaningless and tragic gongs of fanaticism. Those symbol crashes sent the message throughout the land “MY GOD IS A PRICK!” Not that God is in need of being defended, but I believe that we should recognize who He truly is.

Is God a Prick? With the amount of nut-jobs and sandwich board preachers out there you would think so. With the amount of devastation and pain that is out there you would think so. With the bible talking so much about sin and punishment and gnashing of teeth…you would think so. So is he a prick?

I think one of the things that gets misinterpreted in the tune of God is that God is Holy. This implies that every excellence fitting to the Supreme Being is found in God without blemish or limit. It also implies that all other divine moral excellences (goodness, justice, mercy, truth, and grace) are unified and made mutually harmonious in infinite degree in God. Holiness can be something and has been interpreted as a Prick like feature of God. For it is his holiness that can’t stand sin, and it is his holiness that would like people to fly right, don’t do this and don’t do that, and if you do, eternal damnation…Total sandwich board Christianity. But let me clarify: this holiness is God’s Character. Meaning: This is who God is… not the personality or choices that God makes, it’s like you having a belly, a cowlick, or leg hair. God has to deal with His holiness. Now people who get off on yelling about people sinning, and God not wanting to be around sin, sometimes… they might be accurate, however, I believe they are playing the tune that most of the time we all misinterpret.

We think about the angry God, the vengeful God, God who is a Prick, and when we think of this we are usually are listening to the tune of perfection for our lives, or a need of perfection in the world as we know it. But here’s the God that should be recognized: For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life. In knowing himself, and knowing you, he created a way to jump the perfection gap and have you come close. God even went to the lengths of death so that you could be with him. The song of Jesus Christ is a love song that crosses the barrier of an imperfect human and brings them close to a holy God.

Quickly and with the help of God’s re-tuning, Paul played his music as equally loud as he did before. However this time it was with love… he wrote this:
13:4Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud 5or rude. Love does not demand its own way. Love is not irritable, and it keeps no record of when it has been wronged. 6It is never glad about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. 7Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.

This morning I would like us to check ourselves. We may have had a specific feeling that God is supposed to move one way or the other. And it causes us to say specific things. Or perhaps you’re thinking God feels this way about this, and as a result you have been stepping out and doing something specific.
My question for you today is: Is your band playing the song “MY GOD IS A PRICK?”…if so nobody will win.
I believe it is time to retune our band to play the tune to God’s love…
for if we do…everybody will wins.