R.I.P. Fred Phelps?
So...Fred Phelps died on Thursday. Some of us might prefer to shrug and say, "So, what?" Others say, "Good riddance" and harbor wishes for him to receive the kind of judgment he preached. Others, though, higher minded than that, remind us that we do not preach his kind of judgment but of a God who loves all that we should, therefore, be gracious, even to someone who injured so many.
In case you do not recognize the name, he was the founder of the Westboro Baptist Church based in Topeka, Kansas (no relation to other baptist denominations) who spewed hatred in rallies beginning in 1991 at synagogues, churches, mosques; at funerals and public events, and at colleges and other institutions. His main target was lesbians and gays, but he stretched his homophobic theology to blame 9/11 and military deaths on this country's broadening perspective on gay civil rights and, more recently, gay marriage.
Much of the country, including me, became aware of WBC when its members appeared at Matthew Shepherd's funeral in 1998 with their hateful signs and rhetoric. A few years later, delegates to Episcopal General Conventions were surrounded by the WBC folk, and in 2003, newly elected Bishop of New Hampshire, Gene Robinson had to wear a bullet-proof vest beneath his vestments for his installation.
One year, WBC scheduled dates for a series of rallies in the Chicago area and published them on godhatesfags.com. This time they were targeting churches that were not preaching the "true" gospel and "false religious systems" like Judaism and Islam.
One of their picket sites was a synagogue not far from my home. I was unable to attend, but a friend in my prayer group did. She described a rag- tag group standing with their signs across the street from the synagogue and a large multi-faith group in front of it. The Christians, Muslims, Jews, and others were chatting, getting to know one another, and singing joyful songs--a contrast to the dour presence across the street.
About that same time, I was teaching a first-year class of seminarians at Seabury Western Theological Seminary. They spent two week residencies at thriving Episcopal Churches to learn about these ministries. One group was assigned to a parish in Topeka and returned with stories of the weekly Sunday morning presence of the WBC across the street from the Episcopal Church. Part of the problem was that while recovering from a church fire, the congregation worshiped in a Jewish synagogue.
Arguably, their most controversial--and attention drawing--acts were their appearances at funerals of those who died in the Middle East wars--and the Supreme Court decision that, as ugly as their rhetoric was, it fell within the rights of free speech.
There were unintended consequences! Groups of bikers began showing up to create
buffer zones between the WBC groups and the mourners. Later, students did the same. In fact, Phelps' legacy may well be that his skill at drawing so much appalled attention, accelerated the public acceptance of civil unions and gay marriage! He certainly did not succeed in growing his church--it remains a small, family operation. And, in fact, some family members have left and refuse to be part of it.
At Wednesday's Bible study, in addition to working with lectionary texts for this Sunday, we took a detour that may have been inspired by our Lenten Meditation Booklet's devotion that day on the parable of the sower.
We talked about our being the sowers, about the outcome of growth depending on whether the different kinds of soil were receptive to the seeds or not. We talked about our job as sowers being about spreading those seeds, knowing that we cannot force the growth.(caveat: this is my take Others might report differently! I also threw in the idea of God's role in the seeds rooting and growing.)
It occurs to me today that we also might have thought about just what might grow. Sometimes seeds surprise us. What comes up may not be what we were expecting or hoping for. Maybe this is what happened to Fred. He certainly scattered a lot of seed in his claimed 53,000 protests.
According to an article in the Huffington Post,
And I pray for all who were hurt by his church and theology--whether the families whose loved ones' funerals were made more painful by the presence of picketers or whether those whose lives and very beings as people who love those of the same gender have felt diminished. I hope you know that all churches are not like WBC. That it matters not a whit who you love--but that God loves you.
(1) HuffPost, "Fred Phelps' Legacy Is The Opposite Of What He Wanted: An Analysis Of His Hate," Cathy Lynn Grossman, Religion News Service, 03/21/14 08:43 AM ET.
In case you do not recognize the name, he was the founder of the Westboro Baptist Church based in Topeka, Kansas (no relation to other baptist denominations) who spewed hatred in rallies beginning in 1991 at synagogues, churches, mosques; at funerals and public events, and at colleges and other institutions. His main target was lesbians and gays, but he stretched his homophobic theology to blame 9/11 and military deaths on this country's broadening perspective on gay civil rights and, more recently, gay marriage.
Much of the country, including me, became aware of WBC when its members appeared at Matthew Shepherd's funeral in 1998 with their hateful signs and rhetoric. A few years later, delegates to Episcopal General Conventions were surrounded by the WBC folk, and in 2003, newly elected Bishop of New Hampshire, Gene Robinson had to wear a bullet-proof vest beneath his vestments for his installation.
One year, WBC scheduled dates for a series of rallies in the Chicago area and published them on godhatesfags.com. This time they were targeting churches that were not preaching the "true" gospel and "false religious systems" like Judaism and Islam.
One of their picket sites was a synagogue not far from my home. I was unable to attend, but a friend in my prayer group did. She described a rag- tag group standing with their signs across the street from the synagogue and a large multi-faith group in front of it. The Christians, Muslims, Jews, and others were chatting, getting to know one another, and singing joyful songs--a contrast to the dour presence across the street.
About that same time, I was teaching a first-year class of seminarians at Seabury Western Theological Seminary. They spent two week residencies at thriving Episcopal Churches to learn about these ministries. One group was assigned to a parish in Topeka and returned with stories of the weekly Sunday morning presence of the WBC across the street from the Episcopal Church. Part of the problem was that while recovering from a church fire, the congregation worshiped in a Jewish synagogue.
Arguably, their most controversial--and attention drawing--acts were their appearances at funerals of those who died in the Middle East wars--and the Supreme Court decision that, as ugly as their rhetoric was, it fell within the rights of free speech.
There were unintended consequences! Groups of bikers began showing up to create
buffer zones between the WBC groups and the mourners. Later, students did the same. In fact, Phelps' legacy may well be that his skill at drawing so much appalled attention, accelerated the public acceptance of civil unions and gay marriage! He certainly did not succeed in growing his church--it remains a small, family operation. And, in fact, some family members have left and refuse to be part of it.
At Wednesday's Bible study, in addition to working with lectionary texts for this Sunday, we took a detour that may have been inspired by our Lenten Meditation Booklet's devotion that day on the parable of the sower.
We talked about our being the sowers, about the outcome of growth depending on whether the different kinds of soil were receptive to the seeds or not. We talked about our job as sowers being about spreading those seeds, knowing that we cannot force the growth.(caveat: this is my take Others might report differently! I also threw in the idea of God's role in the seeds rooting and growing.)
It occurs to me today that we also might have thought about just what might grow. Sometimes seeds surprise us. What comes up may not be what we were expecting or hoping for. Maybe this is what happened to Fred. He certainly scattered a lot of seed in his claimed 53,000 protests.
According to an article in the Huffington Post,
The message he spread across the country never took root, and in fact helped galvanize the gay rights movement and put other Christians on the defensive. The image of Christianity he painted was a hateful, judgmental collection of rabble-rousers - an image that, paradoxically, did more to help his targets than it advanced his message.
Experts say Phelps' ultimate legal and social impact on the American religious landscape will be a footnote. Religious leaders lament the damage they say he did to Christians who preach God's love and mercy. (1)So, Rest in Peace, Fred Phelps. I hope your departure from this life will be accompanied by a gauntlet of people with signs that say, "God is love." May God have mercy on you, and may you, at last, see face-to- face the God who loves you.
And I pray for all who were hurt by his church and theology--whether the families whose loved ones' funerals were made more painful by the presence of picketers or whether those whose lives and very beings as people who love those of the same gender have felt diminished. I hope you know that all churches are not like WBC. That it matters not a whit who you love--but that God loves you.
(1) HuffPost, "Fred Phelps' Legacy Is The Opposite Of What He Wanted: An Analysis Of His Hate," Cathy Lynn Grossman, Religion News Service, 03/21/14 08:43 AM ET.
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