The View from the West Mesa

As the self-declared spokesman for all of Christendom (at least for the next few minutes), I find the text of Pastor Hagee’s apology to Roman Catholics one of the most equivocal, off-point, and self-preserving that I have read recently. On the other hand, unfortunately, it is also pretty much standard. According to the AP, a portion of the two-page apology reads like this: "Out of a desire to advance a greater unity among Catholics and evangelicals in promoting the common good, I want to express my deep regret for any comments that Catholics have found hurtful." Now I know that there may be considerably more self-deprecating narrative in the remaining text. Be that as it may, at least in this place it is apparent that Pastor Hagee isn’t sorry that he said anything, only that someone may have taken offense at what he has said. That my friends, simply doesn’t wash. It is not Christian to make millions of dollars calling a group of people "The Great Whore” or “The Apostate

“”Words can hurt…but only if you let them. They called you bad names. Were you changed into the things they called you?” “No,” I replied. “You cannot forget what they said any more than you cannot feel the wind when it blows. But if you learn to let the wind blow through you, you will take away its power to blow you down. If you let the words pass through you, without letting them catch on your anger or pride, you will not feel them.”” --Joseph M. Marshall III , 2001, The Lakota Way “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” --A common schoolyard retort The truth is though, that words can hurt very deeply – and more than one child has experienced just how painful angry and barbed comments can be. Not only do they hurt in the moment when they pierce our hearts and seemingly sear into our psyches, but their pain can live for hours or weeks in the lives of school kids. If we hear enough of them, or hear them from the right people, they can

In class this morning we were studying Matthew 18. There are at least four pericopes in this chapter which seem to form a coherent whole. These four cast in practical terms the answer to an age-long problem: how to get people to let go of themselves? From arguments over who is the greatest, to parables about searching for lost sheep, to indebted servants beating on their debtors, we are led along a revelation of the sort of measure God uses when dealing with us – what sorts of expectations he might have of us. Do we want to be first? Why? What's the point? Do we not know that the shepherd himself leaves the flock and searches in desert places for one sheep who is missing.? Rather than simply writing that one off, the shepherd seeks earnestly for it. That sheep – and everyone like it – means a lot to that shepherd. Does he remain around those that are where they are supposed to be; those that have followed his voice recently? No, he leaves them there and searches for the one that is

H e has achieved something most private citizens never achieve. In fact, he has elevated himself, almost single-handedly to heights rarely achieved even by heads of state or military officers. While he has prepared for this day for more than twenty years, he has rocketed to recognition in less than a week. This is normally the pattern, most world-take-notice achievements do not actually occur overnight. No, most world newsworthy events only happen after intentional and decades-long preparation. It is not a medal he has won, he has not achieved great political success, he has not almost single-handedly brought medical and emotional healing to millions. No, he is no hero, no beloved leader, he is certainly no Mother Theresa. The notoriety he has achieved ranks not with saints, but with devils. He has made himself equal to Pol Pot, Heinrich Himmler, or Stalin. This is the reason his name does not appear in this entry. If you have read or heard the news over the past week or so, you know