Contemplative Comics day 85

I DO NOT miss teaching on a Sunday morning and watching the most conservative in the room squirm a little or watching the most liberal nod at me with teeth grinning, waiting for me to go over some line they have established in their heads.

I also don’t miss all the group invites and Facebook tags for things much more extreme than I have been.

People want to claim the pastor in validation of their views or have a good excuse to write them off so as not to have to listen to them.

It has to do with power and self-righteousness. It has little to do with community. Honesty, it has little to do with helping the most vulnerable or marginalized people in our midst either.

I am not convinced that there is anything a pastor can do to avoid this from happening. Perhaps the only action that can be taken is to be vigilant in our own souls to prevent ourselves from adding to the noise.

The last thing I want to do with my life or my voice is co-opt the teachings of Jesus for some ridiculous political movement.

I also have no interest in building some kind of platform. I prefer the work the circuit riders of the colonies and early American republic who traveled to people with the gospel and education classes… out amongst the dirt and the leaves. It suits me better than the stage, pulpit, lighting, and podcasts.

At the time I made this comic, I was angry with the things I saw the broader American church doing politically, I was not satisfied with the more progressive Christian opposition, and I was growing bored with my work as a minister. Playing songs and writing discussion questions for another pastor’s sermons and trying to teach youth on the few nights of the month they weren’t busy did not seem very helpful to the moment.

I was also suffering from depression. But I didn’t know that.