Fred Phelps died on March 20. He had been the pastor of the Westboro
Baptist Church, which took pride in picketing the funerals of slain military
personnel in this country and proclaiming in the loudest terms the “hatred”
that God had for homosexual people.
Signs that said “God hates fags” were a part of the arsenal that Fred
and his people brought to the places that they picketed. They tried to make themselves as obnoxious as
possible and for a time were largely successful. In recent times, other people have risen up
to block their picketing and to stand between them and the families who were
grieving over their lost loved ones.
When Fred died, a chorus of almost glorious celebration
rose up to consign his soul to the darkest depths of Hell and assure us that
God had no time for someone who hated with such venom. I can certainly understand those
feelings. When Westboro Baptist picketed
the General Convention of the Episcopal Church that I attended in Minneapolis,
I was struck by the vacant eyes of the sign carriers and the inability of them
to engage in any kind of conversation with those who disagreed with them.
What we have been hearing in the wake of Fred’s death has
been a secular chorus who have been responding to his hatred with a different
kind of hatred. I certainly understand
that and have no brief to add to the pain of people whose lives have been
affected by the acts of the Westboro church and its few people. I want, though, to say something about how I
believe that God responds to us, even when we are so deep into our hatred and
our sin that we believe ourselves to be the most righteous of all. I am sorry that Fred Phelps was seemingly an
incurably nasty man; but I know that God loved him. God loved Fred, because God loves all of us,
even in the midst of the nastiness that all of us at one time or another can
bring to our lives and to the lives of those around us.
When I worked as a chaplain in the prison, the men in my
group had all committed murder. They
were serving life sentences for their crimes.
We talked often of forgiveness, but it was seldom that any of them
believed me. I have stories of times
when this wonderful and elusive word became a part of their lives, but most of
them had despaired of that ever happening.
They understood that their crimes
were such that the very idea of forgiveness was an impossible goal. I never believed that. When forgiveness happened to any of them, it
was a moment to be celebrated with great joy.
I believe the same thing about Fred Phelps and those who
are associated with him. I know that
when Fred died and he came into the presence of God that God arms wrapped
around him and that he knew love, possibly for the first time. I don’t know what caused Fred to behave in
the impossible ways that he did during his life; but I know that nothing could
separate him from the Love of God.
Nothing. That is what the life of
Jesus was all about and why he forgave his murderers from the cross. Thank God for that love. It is what enables me to know that my own failures
are not ultimate; that God not only loves me, but redeems the things that I have
done that are outside of God’s hope for all of creation. I know that hatred of people who hate only creates
more hatred. Love is the answer to this,
even though Love is the hardest thing of all to muster in the face of such effusive
hatred. That is why we need God’s blessing
to endure this life and to continue to show that magnificent Love to the world that
God has given to us over and over again. Of course it isn’t easy, but following
the teaching of Christ was never designed to be easy. It is our calling, and ultimately that Love that God offers is the hope of the
world.
No comments:
Post a Comment