Imbolc Waning Moon of Winds
To follow up on the morning jitters. At the end of my American Identity sermon I received an unusual and rare compliment: everyone clapped. I took time on the way in to center myself and become part of the beautiful day underway. As I got more centered, I remembered that I had never served and never intended to serve as a parish clergy.
Why? Because my views occupy one end of a spectrum, the far left edge. In the Presbyterian community they perceived me as a prophet, so much so that when I left back in 1990, the Presbytery bought a large print of a Jewish prophet and gave it to me in a nice frame. Oh, yeah. That was my place.
I recall a 1972 sermon at Brooklyn Center United Methodist Church on July 4th. After I got done calling the congregation to patriotic resistance to the war, I went back to stand by the door and shake hands. The congregation split like the Red Sea and went everywhere but where I was. I’m that guy.
This sermon has a radical message to and it received resistance today, but in a much gentler and more dialogical way than that one 37 years ago. I’ve learned some and this community of people knows me well, so we can disagree and still remain friends.
As Popeye used to say, I y’am what I y’am.