Knock Here

This is the sermon i preached at ARPC on Sunday, June 29th, in Charlotte. It's the first time i preached at my home church, of which i've been a member for over 20 years. To give you some slight background, this is a church on the corner of Albemarle Rd and Harris Blvd in Charlotte, which is the highest traffic exchange in the largest city in NC. It used to be on the outskirts of town, suburbs nearly in the country. In the years since i first attended, the neighborhood has changed greatly as the city expanded. It is no longer a mostly white middle class area of town, but an area of minorities, immigrants, high turn over apartments, and homeless. The congregation, however, is still the same, but most of it travels an average of 20 minutes to get there on Sundays.

This is the sermon from last Sunday...

Knock Here

In the story Les Miserables, the character Jean Valjean is imprisoned for five years for stealing bread for his starving sister and her family. When he is finally released, he walks many miles in the cold and tries to find lodging in a tavern or an inn. Knowing that he is a criminal, poor and homeless, they all throw him out without a bite to eat or even a stable to stay in. He even gets chased out of a dog house by a bull dog.

As he begins to try and make himself comfortable on a stone bench, a kind woman sees him there and offers him some of her very few pennies. She apologizes that it’s not enough to obtain lodging but maybe someone would offer him charity and a place to stay. He tells her that he has been turned out everywhere he has tried.

“You have knocked at every door?” she asks.

“Yes.”

Pointing at the church next door, she inquirers, “Have you knocked at that one there?”

“No.”

“Knock there.”

I’ve always thought of ARPC as a very welcoming place. It’s full of people I consider family. They are people who warmly welcomed my mother when she first came toting a very energetic toddler who liked to steal the golf pencils from the pews (that’s why we don’t have them any more, by the way). And Mrs. Brown still extends a monthly invitation to my father to join the choir. They called her and they encouraged her and they nurtured me and Kelley. There are men and women in this congregation who should be nominated for saint hood solely because they taught Sunday school and chaperoned retreats for me and Justin Stritch. We were blessed. We were received…. We were welcomed…. We were accepted.

You see, even in 1815 in France, the Church was a place for those in need, but those in need didn’t all know they could find refuge there. Perhaps the Church today is much the same. Perhaps churches are not unwelcoming places for the poor, the sick, and the lonely, but simply a well kept secret. Might the church need to do a little more advertising? The church is declining. The PC(USA) is shrinking. The Charlotte Presbytery is losing members. Maybe if the Church were as persistent as the folks who want you to switch your long distance plan it would be growing. Or if the Church was as omnipresent as Marine recruitment officers and Avon sales ladies… it would be growing. Or if the church was as likely to invite you into their home as grandma, maybe then… the Church would be growing.

The question I want to press today is what does it mean to truly receive, welcome, and accept? This church, like many churches, does a wonderful job of welcoming those from other denominations and faiths, other ethnicities and cultures. I think God tells us quite pointedly in scripture that welcoming, receiving, and accepting means more than smiling at everyone who walks in the door. They even do that at Wal-Mart… and they give out stickers. I think these words carry much greater meaning for those of us who call ourselves Christians. If we were to understand these words as passive, the great commission would look very different. Jesus would have instructed the Disciples to build a large church on the outskirts of town, in the suburbs and send fliers out to the rest of Jerusalem and the Roman Empire, inviting them to Sunday services and youth group, advertising their nursery and choir. Instead, Christ told them to go out to all nations.

In fact, there are countless stories in scriptures that illustrate this. When the prodigal son returns home, does his father fix up the spare room and wait for him to stroll in the front door? No. He goes running to him on the road and hurries him inside the house. Does the shepherd who loses his sheep keep calling the little sheep’s name, sitting under a tree, waiting for his return? No. Where does Ron stand every Lord’s day before service? In his office? Or does he go outside and welcome you in?

“Whoever receives and welcomes and accepts…”

Many of you have grown up in this church or… you came so long ago that you feel like you’ve always been a member. I’ve been a member for more than twenty years. Have you ever asked yourself, “Would I feel welcome as a visitor?”

Do you have a job? A family? A home? A car? Your health? If you have any or all of those things, maybe you’re asking the wrong question. Maybe you should be asking yourself, “If I were someone else, would I feel welcome as a visitor?”

ARPC has welcomed the worshipping communities led by three new worshipping communities; a Latino church, an African church, and soon, a Lutheran church that reaches out to the handicap community. We’ve opened our doors and our community to new cultures. However, would you feel welcome if the nicest thing you had to wear here to church was a pair of sweatpants, and a Good Will jean jacket? Would you feel welcome if those things smelled so bad that no one would want to sit directly next to you?

"Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

These are the words that end The New Colossus. They appear on the base of the Statue of Liberty. They have rarely reflected the immigration policy of the United States. As someone recently said, “It now reads, ‘No Vacancies.’” Many people have argued that this naïve poem is no way to run a country. Maybe it’s not. But it’s exactly how we are called… … to run a church.

“Whoever receives and welcomes and accepts…”

Just over twenty years ago, my parents and I lived just down the road on Farm Pond Lane by what used to be the Drug Emporium and within walking distance of Eastland Mall. This neighborhood has changed a lot since then. This church does so much to help the homeless through Room in the Inn. ARPC recently honored Mary Ann Ogle for her role in that life-changing ministry. What would it take to be a church that truly receives, welcomes, and accepts this community in an active way, both as a place to sleep and eat and feel safe, AS WELL AS a place to worship? Would things have to change? Would you stay in this congregation if it did? Can a bridge be built between Thursday evening and Sunday morning?

Singer, song writer David Bailey wrote a song based on the true events that transpired in a small Presbyterian Church in Birmingham. A homeless man, by the name of Big Joe hears singing as he walks past the church. So he “takes a step inside,” where he, “finds a bunch of well dressed folks who looked like they were trying to hide.” Hearing, “All ye who are hungry…” he wanders down the aisle hoping that means free food. He gets a little piece of bread and then a little Presbyterian-sized cup of… grape juice. Naturally, being hungry and poor, he notes that there’s still a half of loaf left over and could he take it home? After all, he’s got hungry friends too and they’re right there in the neighborhood.

Before you know it, the ushers and elders are in a “heated debate.” I’m sure none of you can imagine Don Blackmon or Art Parker or Jane Hutchko in such a situation. What’s the big deal? Use of communion elements? Disrupting the flow of worship? This is not in the bulletin. This guy doesn’t know how this works. No. He doesn’t. Why should he? Well, in the midst of this, Miss Betty, who makes the sacred elements each week runs off to the kitchen, and fills a basket full of bread. “You give this to your friends and you come on back next week,” she tells him. He smiles.

“As you’ve done for them, you’ve done for me.”

Amen.

Independence Day

When in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with one another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to which the Laws of Nature and of Nature's God entitled them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation.

This is how the Deceleration of Independence begins. If this doesn't sound familiar, please go locate it.

If you happen to have a copy of this handy, read it today. i keep one at my desk. If you don't have one, they are often quite cheap.

And what happened to those signers we celebrate today?
Have you ever wondered what happened to the 56 men who signed the Declaration of Independence? They signed and they pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor. What kind of men were they? Five signers were captured by the British as traitors, and tortured before they died. Twelve had their homes ransacked and burned. Two lost their sons serving in the Revolutionary Army; another had two sons captured. Nine of the 56 fought and died from wounds or hardships of the Revolutionary War. Twenty-four were lawyers and jurists. Eleven were merchants, nine were farmers and large plantation owners; men of means, well educated, but they signed the Declaration of Independence knowing full well that the penalty would be death if they were captured. Carter Braxton of Virginia, a wealthy planter and trader, saw his ships swept from the seas by the British Navy. He sold his home and properties to pay his debts, and died in rags. Thomas McKeam was so hounded by the British that he was forced to move his family almost constantly. He served in the Congress without pay, and his family was kept in hiding. His possessions were taken from him, and poverty was his reward. Vandals or soldiers looted the properties of Dillery, Hall, Clymer, Walton, Gwinnett, Heyward, Ruttledge, and Middleton. At the battle of Yorktown, Thomas Nelson, Jr., noted that the British General Cornwallis had taken over the Nelson home for his headquarters. He quietly urged General George Washington to open fire. The home was destroyed, and Nelson died bankrupt. Francis Lewis had his home and properties destroyed. The enemy jailed his wife, and she died within a few months. John Hart was driven from his wife's bedside as she was dying. Their 13 children fled for their lives. His fields and his gristmill were laid to waste. For more than a year he lived in forests and caves, returning home to find his wife dead and his children vanished. He never saw any of his family again. How many of us would show such sacrifice under similar circumstances today.

A Religious Experience

The whole weekend was one big religious experience. Ashley and i headed down to Charlotte on Friday evening. We dropped Eli with my mother-in-law (he got a haircut this weekend). We continued on to Concord. We went with Kelley on Saturday morning out to BloodBath & Beyond to get part of our wedding gift and then off to Karmen's wedding.

Karmen and Nate have been dating for about 7 years and the ceremony and reception was very fancy. It was held at the Ballantyne Resort in South Charlotte. The ceremony was outside on the lawn. Our minister, Ron, performed the ceremony, there was a string quartet, and the rain held off until 5 minutes after we all got inside. They had amazing cocktails and then a lovely dinner. The live band was really great. They were very good and they covered a lot of very popular tunes that were great for the dancing. There were about 20 of us there from ARPC out of the 300. We got to hang out with Katie Blackwelder and Maggie and Erik Blackwelder and Emily Troutman, plus Rob and Donna Chambers.

On Sunday, i preached at ARPC and Jason and Ben were able to make it down to see me. The sermon might be available online at ARPC's website. i may post it on here later.

Projects

This is the latest t-shirt design. i'm posting it for 2 reasons:

A) It's cool
3) i finally figured out how to take a screen shot and i'm playing with it

Social Commentary through Music

Any of you who know me, know that i love social commentary, whether in sci-fi or movies or music. Last year, i got to compile a CD with tracks that had social commentary either on a specific subject or culture in general for the Project Burning Bush kids. i'm working on another CD for this year, but i doubt i'll finish in time for them. Here's what i chose last year...

I still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For - U2
Big Joe - David M. Bailey
Chico - David M. Bailey
Another Day in Paradise - Phil Collins
The Way It Is - Bruce Hornsby
Dirty Laundry - Don Henley
Jesus Freak - DC Talk
Dare You to Move - Switchfoot (as covered by an UNC acapella group)
Long Long Time - Guy Forsyth
Everybody Hurts - REM
Everybody's Fool - Evanescence
Popular - Nada Surf
Hands - Jewel

Habitatting

Ashley and i headed out today for a build. Richmond Habitat is building a whole neighborhood of 18 or 20 houses. One of them is their first ADA (American Disabilities) compliant house. There were several volunteer groups out there today and most of the office staff that Ashley works with.

Ashley's boss has twin girls who turned 16 this week and as their birthday party, they wanted to work on a Habitat house and invite about 40 of their friends (including 3 brave guys). Ashley joined their group in blue (the mom bought them ALL, including the adults, bright aqua shirts). They painted for the day.

i worked with a mixed group of Carmax folks and people from St. Mary's on another house. One of the Habitat professional construction people put me to a task and i found a mother and daughter and they were joined by a man and two women in their 60's who were total rock stars and did a great job pounding nails and moving ladders around. i discovered by the end of the day that they compromised most of the "i stay on the ground" crew. Most of the young Carmax and St. Mary's people were on the roof.

It was sort of a hoot to go expecting to learn more about construction (i haven't helped build a Habitat house in a couple years) and instead ended up leading a six person crew and showing them how to build a house. i hope to get out there again soon to help. i really like getting some exercise and volunteering for them. Although, Ashley tells me i got a bit of a sunburn today.

Under pressure from my friends

Well, enough of you have read my blog entries and rants and finally after much poking and prodding, i'm going for it. i've spent the obligatory months claiming i won't run. So now, i officially am declaring my candidacy. i'll be a write in candidate for the 2008 Presidential election. i will run as a Libertarian write-in in all 50 states.

What will the future hold?

i love technology, and sometimes i'm truly impressed. However, i rarely find reason to marvel. Yesterday i got a kick out of the Richmond cop with a Tom Tom GPS navigator on his dash. It's the same one my wife and i have. With dispatchers and low jack and his lap top, he still needs a Tom Tom.

The truly marvelous thing is my Skype experience. For those of you not familiar with Skype, it's fantastic. It's much like AOL or Yahoo messenger, but several more features and a very good video chat interface for your webcam. It also allows you to call or text land/cell lines for a monthly fee, usually cheaper (especially for international) than most phone companies.

So, as i was talking to my cousins in Japan, they added my aunt to the chat. She wasn't at her home in Raleigh or on her computer. She was on her cell phone on Route 75 en route to Baton Rouge. Dick Tracey would never have conceived it.

Fill 'er up...

Trying to keep it all in perspective...

I was reminded today of a political cartoon years ago in the Charlotte Disturber. It portrayed an angry man filling up his car at the gas station, complaining about the price of gas. The picture was labeled with the price of everything else per gallon, including his soda, milk, etc.

An article today suggested that maybe we should keep it in perspective. We've simply been spoiled for so long by low prices. With inflation, gas in 1922 would cost $3 today and it's at $3.77 on average in the US today ($4.00 here in Richmond for Regular Unleaded).

So to keep things in perspective, i did some calculations. In 2008, i thought it might be interesting to note the Richmond prices for the following:

2% Milk- $4.04/gallon
Coke (by 2L bottle)- $4.18/gallon
Coke (by can from vending machine)- $5.33/gallon
Coke (by cup at McDonald's)- $6.40/gallon
Aquafina (bottle from vending machine)- $8.00/gallon
Budweiser- $10.12/gallon
Starbuck's venti latte- $23/gallon
Shampoo (TRESemme)- $23.96/gallon
Shampoo (Pert)- $27.17/gallon

and of course...

Crest toothpaste- $63.79/gallon

Love and Marriage

In today's climate, marriage is always talked about as a "right." It is sometimes referred to as an institution or a union or sought for its tax benefits and legal standing. It is rarely discussed as a privilege or a building block of social stability. It is rarely referred to as a "holy ordinance" as the language of most wedding vows still reads.

Debate swirls around who should be "allowed" to marry and what marriage "means." Many proponents of broadening marriage definition to be more inclusive argue that marriage is a mess in this country and time anyways. While many opponents want to know why non-religious people (or often people who interpret scripture differently) would want to participate in a religiously-based ritual. There's a lot of talk about legislating morality.

The poll you will find on the left margin of this blog has 8 simple (or not so simple) questions about marriage. Please take the time to fill it out. It won't take long. I'll blog again in a few weeks when there has been some response.

Letters for a life time...

i've heard that once a photo is ever posted on the web, it can never be destroyed. i know that letters written on paper are a lost art to many. We reserve snail mail for paying bills and sending resumes and applications, maybe obligatory Christmas cards or birthday well wishes. It just makes the hand written letter (the original reason mail was invented) that much more special.

Just like words you speak, words you write can never really be taken back. You can change your mind about them or the meaning or regret putting them to paper, but once out there, they are permanent. Maybe that's one of the things we like about letters. There's something in them that you can always keep, like a memory that doesn't fade.

i know countless people who keep boxes of letters and cards. i did all through my childhood and did it again in college. i recently tossed a whole bunch after reading through and enjoying some old memories. i kept a couple, including one my parents wrote me when i was in college and one they sent me in seminary.

Today i found a folder with letters i received my first summer of college while i was away at camp. Most were from an old gf. i had two from an old close friend and two more from two other friends. Out of all of those, none of them keep in touch any more. i'm sad, but also reminded of the people who are still in my life and still write me letters. And no matter what happens to any of these people in my life, i will likely have their letters for a long time.

i will probably be chucking most of this mail here, but it's nice to be reminded of the good things you have in life by the things you no longer do.

But who will pay?

"The quality medical care Ted Kennedy quickly received after his brain cancer diagnosis would not be available to Americans if the U.S. adopted the healthcare policies advocated by the Massachusetts Senator..." (and Obama and Clinton). This is from a recent article on the treatments Ted Kennedy received and the future of that kind of treatment in the US. i sincerely doubt that it's buyer's remorse.

The article goes on. On universal healthcare in other countries...
"The expert cites the example of a 22-year-old woman in England — which has universal coverage — who complained of headaches for months, but had to wait a year to see a neurologist.

She then had to wait more than three months to get what Britain’s National Health Service decided was only a “relatively urgent” MRI scan.

Three days before the MRI appointment, she died."


Well, at least we know what to look forward to.

What will the rich do? Go elsewhere. For healthcare, for jobs, for tax shelters. Then no one will be here to pay for this reduced benefit system. Why can we surmise this?

The YMCA's of the nation and most pools are starved for lifeguards in the US. This is a relatively new problem. They cite a number of reasons, but the leading cause is motivational. A vast majority of lifeguards are teenagers and college kids. Think about the alternatives. For the same $8/hour, they can work at almost any retailer or fast food counter. They can show up half asleep, stoned, or hung over, and barely on time and do the job well enough to not get fired. Their training is paid for. Oh, and they get two free uniforms. Pools and YMCA's just can't compete with that.

The same will be true of America. Doctors who can get more money in other countries will leave. Patients who can afford better care will leave too. The richest one percent all have the means to live overseas and receive better care. Most of the wealthiest 10% could afford to travel overseas for specific appointments, treatments, prescriptions, or surgeries. Who pays for most of the government programs? Yup, that bracket. So, by all means, let's create a system that harms or at the very least benefits less those who pay for it. I'm sure they'll stay.

If you think they will, you credit them with high morals. If they had them, they'd already voluntarily be providing that healthcare.

Sticks and stones

Words are powerful. Rhetoric is powerful. Dialog is powerful. Take words, speak them allowed to someone or write them to someone and suddenly you are engaged in a struggle than can result in both parties becoming weaker or stronger.

Is "homophobe" as dangerously paralyzing a word as "homo?" I read a speech recently that addressed a similar issue. Basically, it made the very good point that in the dark ages, the term "heretic" could stop all discussion, debate and learning.

Neil DeGrasse Tyson points out in his book, Death by Black Hole, that the Catholic church attacked, condemned, and even killed many of the greatest astronomers and thinkers of humanity because they held opinions and ascribed to theories that were unpopular minority views.

The age old debate about how open minded is a liberal person if they refuse to listen to a skin head or neo-nazi thug is reborn. Does calling someone a "homophobe" in the atmosphere of a University for instance automatically silence a student or reduce them to the 21st cetury equivalent of a heretic, ignored by the majority and judged unworthy of participating in public debate, dialog, learning?

i'm the last person who would defend the viewpoint of a neo-nazi, but i will defend the right of anyone to espose an opinion, majority condoned or otherwise.

To quote the ultra liberal Michael Douglas in the American President:

"You want free speech? Let's see you acknowledge a man whose words make your blood boil, who's standing center stage and advocating at the top of his lungs that which you would spend a lifetime opposing at the top of yours."

Can you do it? How patriotic are you? How open-minded are you?

This just in...

I awake to the sound of jet engines this morning... in my house. The wife has her hair dryer for the first time since we've been married. She walks into the room and with a deadpan serene reserved for Willem Dafoe in Platoon...

"The heat index today is 105... welcome to death."

Guess she doesn't wanna move to Texas.

To the Church in Emphasis

So today, i've been reading blogs and one specifically written by this poor guy who doesn't know enough scripture to articulate his anti-gay viewpoint. Probably most people don't completely agree with me, but one of my biggest frustrations is the supposed Christian who comes to the Bible with what they believe and what they've been taught before they read it and then try to find the evidence in scripture and/or bend it to make it work.

i digress. So you end up with one kind of person who wants to emphasize pointing out everyone's sin (especially homosexuals) as his way of showing them love and one person who wants to emphasize only loving people unconditionally. These two kids battling on a blog. Both are hopelessly impotent.

The first guy thinks people will see he loves them if he points out the flaws he perceives. Any of you ever have a parent or adult or teacher in your life who never encouraged you, always criticized you, and strove simply to fix you? Did you feel loved?

The other girl wants to just go around with rainbows and flowers and love on everybody. i gotta admit, she sounds more fun. i'd rather have a dozen of her than one of the first guy. However, she's not doing anyone much good. Ever have a parent or adult or teacher or grandparent who stuffed you full of compliments and cookies no matter what you did wrong and never gave you rules or boundaries or correction? i bet they were fun. But did you learn? Did you grow? Did you become a better person? a better Christian?

Comes back to people not caring how much you know until they know how much you care. Maybe the second girl would give some guidance after a hug, but that's not the impression i got. Jesus says pretty clearly to take care of the log in your own eye before the splinter in someone else's. Seems the best way out of the situation for both of these kids is invite criticism and judgment with humility and to live lives of example rather than hollow self-righteousness or empty sweetness.

Education, the Opiate for the Masses?

i'm not being lazy. My cousin Jackie simply did the leg work on this one so well, i simply recommend you go to her blog for this topic...

California vs. Homeschooling
The case for requiring you send your kids to public/private school or face prison.

Unfortunately True

I'm not even going to editorialize...

Straight from the NY Times, copied and pasted...

"Representative William J. Jefferson of Louisiana, who was indicted for bribing a Nigerian official and engineering an international corruption scheme, announced today that he is casting his superdelegate vote for Mr. Obama.

“It is time to unify our party behind a nominee for President in order to give Democrats the best chance to win this fall,” Mr. Jefferson said in a statement.

Last week, a federal judge in Louisiana refused to toss out the bribery charges against Mr. Jefferson, who argued that his alleged crimes more closely resembled influence peddling than bribery."

Order's up!

We spent last weekend in the Poconose Mountains in Pennsylvania, somewhere (see: middle of nowhere) northwest of Harrisburg. No phone signal, no internet, wild animals... And that was just inside the cabin. Outside, we had cool weather and bears (they feed them out back with 55-gallon drums of expired caramel from the Hershey factory).

It was a great weekend. Ashley's grandfather built a family cabin and most of her aunts and uncles and cousins came for the weekend. Her family is great fun and it was nice to unwind and catch up with them as this was our first weekend vacation since August.

Ashley has two young cousins. Canon is about 6 or 7 and Gillian is an adorable 3 and a half. Canon has all the cool transformer toys i loved as a kid, so that's fun, and Gillian's current favorite game is playing restaurant. She asks what you want for each meal and "writes" orders down on her Hello Kitty magnetic doodle pad for hours at a time. She's also a total rip. As much as i hate to encourage a kid to simply talk back to adults, it's hard not to admire the courage of a 28-inch kid standing up to the verbal taunts of 200-lb adults. In those cases i always pull for the underdog against the tyrant abusing their power.

i'll try to post pictures soon.

And now for something completely different...

When i was a kid, my cousins Paul and Tim used to frequently say, "you don't see that every day."

Well, today i saw many things that i do not frequently, if ever, see around here. Firstly, i took Eli out back today and there was a little opossum rooting around by the shed. Shortly after that, i had a Cardinal hopping around all crooked in the yard. i think he hit our window.

On my drive to Charlottesville, i saw a beaver on the side of the road, standing upright and sniffing the air. When i got to Charlottesville, i saw a car with two brand new bumper stickers. One said "Obama '08," and the other, "McCain." On the drive home, i saw second smaller beaver walking down the shoulder of I-64. Also had a hot-air balloon overhead for a mile or two.

Now which of those was the weirdest thing that i saw?

Eureka

For those of you who don't know and like knowing such things, that comes from the Greek "Heurisko," meaning, "i found it, dude."

i finally realized the other day why i'm feeling so old this year. It's not being married or most of my friends getting married or having babies. It's not even that all these kids younger than me are graduating high school and college. Nope.

It's because all these kids are graduating high school and college and i feel like i just graduated. And frankly, college seems like a long time ago. BUT i am still in school and so it doesn't feel like they should all be leaving it. THAT's why i feel so old. Kids far younger than me are getting jobs, goin into the real world. And i, yes, Brian, who hates being in school, has a general disdain for studying, homework, busy work, papers, assigned reading, and authority, is still, mostly voluntarily... in school. JESUS CHRIST! (i can say that, i'm in seminary)

i'm quite ready to be done with school. i'm the boy who was off from school for nearly a month in kindergarten in September because of Hurricane Hugo and when my mother informed me that it was time to go back, i replied, "i went, i'm done, i'm threw."

Will i ever be?

All in the Family

Well, as I was skimming through the latest issue of Liberty University's publication, I came across an ad for Samaritan Ministries. I've since done a little research on this group. it's quite interesting. Basically, their aim is to provide affordable security for medical expenses. In practice, it works just like medical insurance (plus the church prayer chain).

They take every possible pain to show how different they are from "insurance," but the process is identical. You pay a monthly fee and administrative costs so that you will receive money if and when you need it later. Just like insurance, you pay a premium and you cannot have a pre-existing condition that needs continued treatment (diabetes, etc).

THE BIG BONUS: You get your name and health problem published in a newsletter so other people can read about you and pray for you, just like the church bulletin, etc. Wait, what if you don't attend church already? Well you're out of luck my friend.

THE DIFFERENCE... between Samaritan Ministries and insurance is that if you're not a "Christian," as defined by them, then you cannot participate. Included in these conditions are regular church attendance. Let's look at these conditions (word for word from the brochure):

-Must be a born-again Christian (Jn 3:3)
Great. Hope you didn't grow up in a church from the time you were a kid, being nurtured in the faith by your parents and church (Prov 22:6).

-Must attend church 3 out of 4 weeks per month except when health or weather prevents it (Heb 10:24-25)
Didn't you know that God takes attendance? You apparently cannot gather in your home with friends or at the homeless shelter to read scripture and sing songs. Unlike the Bible might indicate (Mt 18:20).

-Must not abuse alcohol, (Ep 5:18) and must indicate on the application from one of the following options: 1- Abstain from alcohol use completely; or 2- Drink alcohol only in extreme moderation.
I suppose someone has to measure this and have the minister sign off.

-Must totally abstain from illegal drugs, use of tobacco, and sexual relations outside of monogamous, heterosexual marriage. (I Cor 3:16-17)
-Must participate in good health measures, since your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit. (I Cor 6:19-20)
I see, so does this mean only specific foods? Nothing unhealthy? Say goodbye to Thin Mints, bacon, ice cream, butter, and carbs. Who decided tobacco is more dangerous than Mig Macs? You can die just as quickly from 2 or 3 of those a day as a cigarette habit. Those are all considered unhealthy these days. And those born-agains better not have a history of drug or alcohol use or fornication. That might lead them to have health problems that aren't covered now.

-Your pastor or another church leader must sign a verification form, confirming that you meet these requirements. (Heb 13:17)
Again, if you don't attend a church building, you might not have a "pastor." That's not non-Biblical, for we are called to go into the world many times, and yes, to gather with fellow believers, but Jesus never once preached a church attendance sermon. Besides, this verse speaks about submitting to "those that rule over you." In most faith traditions, your pastor does not rule over you. He serves you. Christ was a servant leader. As a future minister, I must seek to serve my congregations, not rule them.

I'm not sure you can define a Christian by these standards, and even if you could, is it the calling of Christians to only take care of other Christians? Is it our calling to first ask someone if they are decent and good and our brand of believers before assisting. Did the Samaritan in Jesus' parable interrogate the bleeding, naked man on the road to ask if they ascribed to the same beliefs or culture or what his past held? No. In fact, he was quite different from the man in belief and practice, and he had mercy on him. You'd think an organization with such a name might be most interested in helping all people and having mercy on anyone in trouble. I leave it for you to decide. At least... they have affordable rates...

"Iron Man? Catchy, but technically it's gold titanium..."

Iron Man was fantastic. I went in expecting very little (like I did when I went to see Daredevil). I expected explosions, corny super hero jokes, a lame delivery by Robert Downey Jr., and two-dimensional female love interests. I was happily wrong.

While this is no Batman Begins (it just doesn’t carry as many big hitter actors), and the making of Iron Man from Tony Stark is not the same tale of overcoming family murder to fight for justice, it is a good intro movie to the creation of Iron Man.

Robert Downey Jr. was the perfect choice for Iron Man/Tony Stark. Time magazine was right. The character of Stark parallels Downey very well. Downey is a long-time drug addict who has finally emerged from rehab with a sobriety that’s sticking and landing some of his best parts, a mid-life turn around. Stark’s character is a billionaire playboy who gets a wake up call that his lifestyle and his weapons manufacturer company are hurting more than helping others and himself. He rallies, with the help of his friends.

While Iron Man cannot tout Morgan Freeman, Michael Caine, or Liam Neeson, it does have good old Jeff Bridges, the rising and very talented Terrence Howard (August Rush, Hustle and Flow, the Brave One), and a very new and different role for Gwyneth Paltrow. She kicks ass and takes names as the dedicated and tenacious right-hand (wo)man to Stark.

In addition, if you’re going for the obligatory explosions, gadgets, and tech, you will be far from disappointed. It’s not terribly believable, but you’ll forget that until the credits are done rolling. Speaking of which… DO NOT LEAVE BEFORE THE CREDITS ARE OVER! Like X-Men 3, there’s a great 2 minute set up for the next movie after the credits, and it stars another big Hollywood hitter who isn’t in the rest of the movie. So buckle down, strap in, and don’t leave early. This one is worth seeing on the big screen.

What is Your Giraffe?

This is the sermon i delivered to the church i am serving currently. To give you some context, it is a 90-member small, old, rural United Methodist Church. It's north of Richmond in Studley (Mechanicsville suburb).

What is Your Giraffe?

Acts 17:22-31 (NRSV)

²²Then Paul stood in front of the Areopagus and said, “Athenians, I see how extremely religious you are in every way. ²³For as I went through the city and looked carefully at the objects of your worship, I found among them an altar with the inscription, ‘To an unknown god.’

What therefore you worship as unknown, this I proclaim to you. ²⁴The God who made the world and everything in it, he who is Lord of heaven and earth, does not live in shrines made by human hands, ²⁵nor is he served by human hands, as though he needed anything, since he himself gives to all mortals life and breath and all things.

²⁶From one ancestor he made all nations to inhabit the whole earth, and he allotted the times of their existence and the boundaries of the places where they would live, ²⁷so that they would search for God and perhaps reach for him and find him— though indeed he is not far from each one of us.

²⁸For ‘In him we live and move and have our being’; as even some of your own poets have said, ‘For we too are his offspring.’ ²⁹Since we are God’s offspring, we ought not to think that the deity is like gold, or silver, or stone, an image formed by the art and imagination of mortals. ³⁰While God has overlooked the times of human ignorance, now he commands all people everywhere to repent, ³¹because he has fixed a day on which he will have the world judged in righteousness by a man whom he has appointed, and of this he has given assurance to all by raising him from the dead.”

What is your Giraffe?

I spent my first summer of college working as a counselor at a small Christian camp in the mountains of North Carolina. It was an overnight camp for kids ages six to sixteen. Each group of kids was assigned one male counselor and one female. We had the kids from Sunday till Friday afternoon, so for 24 hours a day, those six days, especially to the little ones, we were mommy and daddy. We loved those little kids… most of them. And they loved us… most of the time.

We swam, we hiked, we ate hot dogs over campfires. We sang and danced and played games all day long. We had a Bible study each day and time for arts and craft. One week, I had a little girl in my seven year old crew. She was a little home sick and clingy and spent the week not more than five feet from me, rarely letting me out of eyesight. She picked out a wooden kitchen spoon at craft time the first day and spent the week painting it. After a few days, she’d finished painting the big spoon entirely in bright… simple… plain yellow, several coats thick. She came over and presented it to me. “It’s a giraffe,” she said beaming. I thanked her and put it in my backpack. It’s still there. Five years later, and I still get people in my classes who ask me “What is that?” “A giraffe.”

How do you show someone you love them? What is your giraffe? When you’re seven years old, maybe you give your camp counselor a bright yellow spoon. When you’re eleven, maybe you clean your room before mom even asks. When you’re sixteen, maybe you ask that special one to prom. When you’re twenty-one, maybe you stay up all night with the friend who can’t believe she’s been dumped or the one who can’t believe he didn’t get that job he was sure he was going to get. When you’re thirty, maybe you make dinner for your friend who has been going through physical therapy after the accident. When you’re forty, maybe you get off work to go see your own seven year old perform in the school play. We’ve all done these things. What is your giraffe?

What if it’s someone you barely like? What if it’s someone you barely know?

“You can’t reach someone, you don’t love.” My mother told me this when I was very young and repeated it many times. She is a life-long grade school teacher. She, too, likes giraffes. I know she believed that, and I know she lives it. I also know she prays for those kids she teaches and loves them very much. She wouldn’t be the teacher she is, if she didn’t.

“You can’t reach someone, you don’t love.” To understand Paul here in the Areopagus, you have to understand Paul’s ministry. Paul uses the word “love” one hundred twenty times and “brother” one hundred and twenty-nine in his letters to the people of the early Church. He loves these people. Paul has his very harsh moments, but he always speaks in love.

When I was in college, there was a gathering place in front of the student union. It was where the center of campus life was, our Areopagus. Frequently, usually in warmer sunny weather, a man named Gary Birdsong, or the Pit Preacher, made appearances. His favorite topics were the various reasons that we as college students were headed for a fiery eternity. He loved to preach from Paul and explain to us in loud rants why all the girls shouldn’t be wearing pants or talking in public, why all of the Jews and Muslims had no hope, and why those of us boys with long hair were confusing the natural order. Apparently Jesus, Paul, and all those apostles had crew cuts (my minister and I both have them) to avoid being mistaken for women. I was always sorry for Gary. He has no giraffe.

Paul does not storm in and say, “Oh, Athenians, you fools and heathens, it’s straight to the lake of fire for you!”

“Athenians, I see how extremely religious you are in every way.” For Paul, a Jew, and for these people, this is a high compliment. Paul doesn’t think he’s better than these Athenians.

“From one ancestor he made all nations to inhabit the whole earth.” Paul says to these people he barely knows, “you are my brothers and my sisters. I will speak to you as if you are my own blood. I will treat you as I would have you treat me. For if I speak to you out of love, my words may reach you.” Paul wants to reach these people where they are. This is Paul’s giraffe.

“Love is patient, love is kind.” Does this sound familiar? This is Paul. Paul speaks patiently in kindness to those gathered here in the Aeropagus. How do we speak to our brothers and sisters in the places we trod?

“He allotted the times of their existence and the boundaries of the places where they would live.” Why? “So that they would search for God and perhaps reach for him and find him.”

God has placed each of us where we are, in our families, in our lives, in our jobs, in our schools, in our churches, in this very country. Why? So that we can help each other find God. Can you reach the people in your life that God has surrounded you with? You can’t reach someone you don’t love.

What will it take? I’m fairly sure that a bright yellow spoon is not the best way to show your coworker or your bank teller that you love them. Maybe it is, I of course don’t know the people in your life. But do you?

If you do, you already know how to show them you love them. You have a giraffe for those people, those places. You can’t share your faith, you can’t share your story with someone who doesn’t believe that you sincerely love and care about them. You wouldn’t hang up on someone calling to offer you a job or telling you that you won the lottery. You would probably hang up on a telemarketer. It’s much easier to ignore someone who has his own interests at heart than someone who has your interests at heart.

How then can we be like Paul? How can we reach our neighbors, how can we reach for God and find him with our brothers and sisters? If we reach people by loving them, then reaching people is impossible until we show people we love them.

Paul speaks to the Athenians just like an Athenian. He uses their language, he uses their lingo, and he uses his understanding of their culture. He even quotes their own poets. The familiar, this is Paul’s giraffe for the Athenians. Paul could not have reached them if he had spoken over their heads or used the familiar Jewish terms. He could not have reached them any other way. He used the familiar. He cared enough about them to meet them where they were.

Today, Psalm 66 was read in the King James Version some of you may have heard growing up, familiar. You heard John 14 in the newer Message version. This language may sound more like what you use to talk to your friends and family in everyday life. The Message version was written by Eugene Peterson. He is the friend and colleague of my Greek professor and one of the leading pastors in new church plants in the United States. Like Martin Luther, he believes that the best way to reach someone is to care about their needs, and one of those needs is being able to understand God’s word. You may not consider yourself a Biblical expert, but you come and hear the word read and preached on each week and many of you attend Sunday school classes. You know enough to explain many things to your children, your parents, your co-workers and fellow students.

Every relationship you have with someone is an opportunity for Christ to be there. Always ask yourself, “Do I love this person? Do they know it?” You can’t reach them, if either answer is “No.” People don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care. You have to find a way to show people. If you spend enough time listening to the needs of everyone God has put in your life, you’ll be able to show each of them that you love them.

If that doesn’t work, you can always try… a giraffe.

Ism's (Finally)

I talked to several of you about this blog a week or two ago. i didn't do any more work on it since then, but i finally decided to post it in it's rough form. It'll eventually bear fruit and be a sermon topic. It is the product of much conversation a couple weeks ago and even more before that. Thanks to all of you who helped shape and articulate, including Ferris. Feedback is encouraged...

Feminism – The Radical Notion that Women are People

Christianity – The Radical Notion that People are People
…and all people are equal…

I think maybe Ferris Bueller was on to something. “-Ism's in my opinion are not good. A person should not believe in an -ism, he should believe in himself.” I think I would take that a step farther. Maybe most, if not all for a lack of a better word “necessary” or maybe “nobly-intended” –Ism’s that Christians ascribe to are the failure of Christianity, or Christians.

“There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” –Gal 3:28

Well, the point can be made that Paul says some pretty crazy things (like women shouldn’t speak in church or teach, or cover their heads in worship, etc), but Christ lived out these principles each time he sat and spoke with women or asked for a drink from a Samaritan, or sent his Holy Spirit to proclaim his good news to the gathered crowds of every nation.

Any –Ism that seeks to uphold the principles contained in this, religious or secular, is seeking to correct a problem in society that Christians are failing to address.

Ism’s (and the like) as a category:

Communism – Strives for economic responsibility and equality so that those who have much can share with those who have little, exactly as Christ instructed, exactly how the early Church operated. However, it imposes this system, which is the opposite of the early Church and what Christ asks of us.

Democracy – Strives for the equal representation of all people and equal rights and voice given to all views.

Anarchism – Strives for absolute freedom through personal responsibility, which is a very Christ-like goal. However, like Communism, is impossible in the practical sense.

Libertarianism – Strives to put great limits on the governments we need for practical reasons, but as with Communism, fails because people are greedy.

Humanism – Strives to value human dignity and values. However, it tends to leave out the importance of God over and above that, the creator of humans and the only one who loves us all unconditionally.

Fundamentalism – Strives for truly discerning God’s will and God’s plan in the face of growing doubt and uncertainty. It, like many Ism’s is built on good intentions, however, it engenders hostility and narrow-mindedness.

Radicalism – Strives for living out one’s principles, in spite of all opposition, much as we can characterize the life of Christ, but only Christ was completely pure in motive and deed.

Affirmative Action – Strives to correct injustices done to the oppressed. However, it seeks to eventually create equality by temporary inequality, an ends justify the means sort of gain draws criticism in hindsight (see: atom bombs, internment camps…)

Secularism – Strives to be sensitive to the needs and feelings of those with non-religious beliefs or those different from the predominate faith group, but it often neglects the upbringing of those within all faith traditions. No religious or cultural celebration means a loss of heritage to the proceeding generations.

Religious Fanaticism – Strives to include God in our every decision, but fails to mediate peace between us and our neighbor, who is also God’s child.

Abolitionism – Strives to free all people from oppression and slavery.

Prohibition – Strives to protect people from the violence, tragedy, and health concerns brought about by the abuse of alcohol and its distribution.

Someone once said that “extremism in your camp destroys the moderates in mine.”

If Christians could live as Christ called, and as many communities in the early Church did, then what was grown, what was earned, what was made could all be shared and no one would go without. There would be no need to force taxes or class structures or intrusive governments on anyone, trading liberties for charity.

If the principles of equality and racial harmony were practiced as Christ did, then there would be no need for abolitionism and feminism and affirmative action. If we all lived the outrageous principles of servitude and other before self, there would be no radicalism because everyone would be radical.

In other words, if Christianity put on its working clothes and if Christians marched out into this world like the early Church did (which is why it grew), then none of those Ism’s would be necessary. Everyone would be a feminist, everyone an abolitionist, everyone a radical, everyone an anarchist because no one would know what one of those was. They would call us each a Christian, a little Christ, and they would know we were Christians by our love.

Beating around the Bush to find the Gore

My favorite past time is NOT defending George Bush. But when using someone as a reference point that has done so much to repeal the advances in environmental policies in the US to put Al Gore in a healthy perspective, i'll do what i must. Yes, i've checked the Associated Press AND Snopes. This IS accurate...

LOOK OVER THE DESCRIPTIONS OF THE FOLLOWING TWO HOUSES AND SEE IF YOU CAN TELL WHICH BELONGS TO AN ENVIRONMENTALIST.

HOUSE # 1:

A 20-room mansion (not including 8 bathrooms) heated by natural gas. Add on a pool (and a pool house) and a separate guest house all heated by gas. In ONE MONTH ALONE this mansion consumes more energy than the average American household in an ENTIRE YEAR. The average bill for electricity and natural gas runs over $2,400.00 per month. In natural gas alone (which last time we checked was a fossil fuel), this property consumes more than 20 times the national average for an American home. This house is not in a northern or Midwestern "snow belt," either. It's in the South.

HOUSE # 2:

Designed by an architecture professor at a leading national university, this house incorporates every "green" feature current home construction can provide. The house contains only 4,000 square feet (4 bedrooms) and is nestled on arid high prairie in the American southwest. A central closet in the house holds geothermal heat pumps drawing ground water through pipes sunk 300 feet into the ground. The water (usually 67 degrees F.) heats the house in winter and cools it in summer. The system uses no fossil fuels such as oil or natural gas, and it consumes 25% of the electricity required for a conventional heating/cooling system. Rainwater from the roof is collected and funneled into a 25,000 gallon underground cistern. Wastewater from showers, sinks and toilets goes into underground purifying tanks and then into the cistern. The collected water then irrigates the land surrounding the house. Flowers and shrubs native to the area blend the property into the surrounding rural landscape.

HOUSE # 1 (20 room energy guzzling mansion) is outside of Nashville, Tennessee. It is the abode of that renowned environmentalist (and filmmaker) Al Gore.

HOUSE # 2 (model eco-friendly house) is on a ranch near Crawford, Texas. Also known as "the Texas White House," it is the private residence of the President of the United States, George W. Bush.

So whose house is gentler on the environment? Yet another story you WON'T hear on CNN, CBS, ABC, NBC, MSNBC or read about in the New York Times or the Washington Post. Indeed, for Mr. Gore, it's truly "an inconvenient truth."

An update on a classic

So, i got to thinking the other day. If the Barenaked Ladies were to have written their song "If I had a Million Dollars" in today's 2008 economy, it would have been more like this...

If I had a billion dollars (If I had a billion dollars)
I'd rent you a room in Al Gore’s house (10,000 square feet has got to be green)
If I had a billion dollars (If I had a billion dollars)
I'd buy you the Harry Potter Collection for your shelf (maybe all the Blue-Rays too)
If I had a billion dollars (If I had a billion dollars)
I'd buy you half a tank of gas (a nice reliant premium grade)
If I had a billion dollars, I'd buy you love

If I had a billion dollars
I'd build a spaceship in our yard
If I had a billion dollars
I’d get Tom Cruise to help, it wouldn't be that hard
If I had a billion dollars
Maybe we could put a refrigerator in there
Wouldn't that be fabulous!

If I had a billion dollars (If I had a billion dollars)
I buy you one of Duke’s referees (but not an old one, that's just cruel)
If I had a billion dollars (If I had a billion dollars)
I'd buy you a rare exotic pet (like a Papillion or a faithful politician)
If I had a billion dollars (If I had a billion dollars)
I'd buy you Kenneth Jennings’ brains (You could win every Jeopardy game)
If I had a billion dollars I'd buy your love

If I had a billion dollars
We wouldn't have to walk to the store
If I had a billion dollars
We'd take a hybrid limousine cause it costs more
If I had a billion dollars We wouldn’t have to eat Kraft dinners (we could afford to buy organic and maybe half a gallon of milk)

If I had a billion dollars (If I had a billion dollars)
I'd buy you some low rise jeans (but not real low rise in back)
If I had a billion dollars (If I had a billion dollars)
I'd buy you some art (but nothing modern, that’s cruel)
If I had a billion dollars (If I had a billion dollars)
I'd buy you an election (haven't you always wanted a president that invented the internet?)
If I had a billion dollars If I had a billion dollars If I had a billion dollars
If I had a billion dollars I'd be getting’ tax breaks from George Bush!

(i'll try to get this recorded soon)

Simple Update

Haven't written in a while.

It was spring "break" here at Union. As it was also Holy Week, i spent the latter half of the week doing stuff for and going to the evening church services. My youth group led the early worship on Easter today. They did a great job, really made me proud. But it meant i was busy preparing stuff this week.

We spent Monday and Tuesday shuttling back and forth from Chapel Hill with a Suburban and U-Haul to get Ashley's remaining stuff from her mother's house, the final move out. We had dinner with her mom on Monday evening, which was nice.

i also spent some time discovering how embarrassingly out of shape i am when i went to swim some laps at the Y on Friday and Saturday. i haven't been in a pool in 2 years and at least as long since i did laps. i have to be able to do a few for my Red Cross Instructor class this week. i surely hope i don't drown.

White Flour

by David LaMotte

(a true story about events that occurred on May 26, 2007. © 2007 Lower Dryad Music)

David performed, spoke this beautiful poem at Union tonight and i had to pass it on. No editorial, it speaks for itself...

The day was bright and sunny as most May days tend to be
In the hills of Appalachia down in Knoxville, Tennessee
The men put on their uniforms and quickly took their places
In white robes and those tall and pointed hoods that hid their faces

Their feet all fell in rhythm as they started their parade
They raised their fists into the air, they bellowed and they brayed
They loved to stir the people up, they loved when they were taunted
They didn’t mind the anger, that’s precisely what they wanted

As they came around the corner, sure enough, the people roared
They couldn’t quite believe their ears, it seemed to be – support?
Had Knoxville finally seen the light, were people coming ‘round?
The men thought for a moment that they’d found their kind of town

But then they turned their eyes to where the cheering had its source
As one their faces soured as they saw the mighty force
The crowd had painted faces, and some had tacky clothes
Their hair and hats outrageous, each had a red foam nose

The clowns had come in numbers to enjoy the grand parade
They danced and laughed that other clowns had come to town that day
And then the marchers shouted, and the clowns all strained to hear
Each one tuned in intently with a gloved hand to an ear

“White power!” screamed the marchers, and they raised their fisted hands
The clowns leaned in and listened like they couldn’t understand
Then one held up his finger and helped all the others see
The point of all this yelling, and they joined right in with glee

“White flour!” they all shouted and they felt inside their clothes
They pulled out bags and tore them and huge clouds of powder rose
They poured it on each other and they threw it in the air
It got all over baggy clothes and multi-colored hair

All but just a few of them were joining in the jokes
You could almost see the marchers turning red beneath white cloaks
They wanted to look scary, they wanted to look tough
One rushed right at the clowns in rage, and was hauled away in cuffs

But the others chanted louder marching on around the bend
The clowns all marched along with them supporting their new friends
“White power!” came the marchers’ cry — they were not amused
The clowns grew still and thoughtful; perhaps they’d been confused?

They huddled and consulted, this bright and silly crowd
They listened quite intently, then one said “I’ve got it now!”
“White flowers!” screamed the happy clown and all the rest joined in
The air was filled with flowers, and they laughed and danced again

“Everyone loves flowers! And white’s a pretty sort!
I can’t think of a better cause for marchers to support!”
Green flower stems went flying like small arrows from bad archers
White petals covered everything, including the mad marchers

And then a very tall clown called the others to attention
He choked down all his chuckles, and said “Friends I have to mention
That what with all the mirth and fun it’s sort of hard to hear
But now I know the cause that these strange marchers hold so dear

“Tight showers!” the clown blurted out, and hit his head in wonder
He held up a camp shower and the others all got under
Or at least they tried to get beneath, they strained but couldn’t quite
There wasn’t room for all of them, they pushed, but it was tight

“White Power!” came their marchers’ cry, quite carefully pronounced
The clowns consulted once again, then a woman clown announced
“I’ve got it! I’m embarrassed that it took so long to see
But what these marchers march for is a cause quite dear to me!”

“Wife power!” she exclaimed and all the other clowns joined in
They shook their heads and laughed at how mistaken they had been
The women clowns were hoisted up on shoulders of the others
Some pulled on wedding dresses, “Here’s to wives and mothers!”

The men in robes were angry and they knew they’d been defeated
They yelled a few more times and then they finally retreated
And when they’d gone a black policeman turned to all the clowns
And offered them an escort to the center of the town

The day was bright and sunny as most May days tend to be
In the hills of Appalachia down in Knoxville, Tennessee
People joined the new parade, the crowd stretched out for miles
The clowns passed out more flowers and made everybody smile

And what would be the lesson of that shiny southern day?
Can we understand the message that the clowns sought to convey?
Seems that when you’re fighting hatred, hatred’s not the thing to use
So here’s to those who march on in their massive, silly shoes.

Martian attacks may be more preferable than Venutian

That's right. Greek is a fun language (note the sarcasm), and so is Latin. It is certain that were we to be attacked by folks from Mars, we'd call them Martians, and from Venus, Venutians. However, if you follow the Latin rules for grammar, the "of Venus," genitive case would make those invaders Venereal.

As Neil deGrasse Tyson says in the book i'm currently reading, the misfortune is that doctors stole this term before astronomers could claim it. Proving once again that astronomy is only the second oldest profession.