I Want to Hug the Westboro Baptist Church

I hope Westboro Baptist Church pickets my funeral.

No, really, I do.

I hope Jesus lets someone call me back, like Lazarus. I'd run over to hug the Westboro people first. They'd either get saved or run away and never picket another funeral.

But if not, I'm sure the revivalists, the community of people around me who are madly in love with the God of Love (and I don't mean Cupid), will show so much love that the Westboro folk will either get saved or flee in panic and confusion. I can hear the cops talking to them now. "No, sir, they were trying to hug you, not assault you. I know, because they hugged us all when we showed up."

Not long before going to the cross Jesus said, "Let me give you a new command: Love one another. In the same way I loved you, you love one another. This is how everyone will recognize that you are my disciples-when they see the love you have for each other." (Jn 13/33-35, The Message)

Or how about this? When asked earlier on which of the commandments was the greatest, Jesus said, Jesus said, "`Love the Lord your God with all your passion and prayer and intelligence.' This is the most important, the first on any list. But there is a second to set alongside it: `Love others as well as you love yourself.' These two commands are pegs; everything in God's Law and the Prophets hangs from them." (Mt 22/37-40, The Message) Many versions say "your neighbor" instead of "others". Jesus made it clear in his parable of the good Samaritan that everyone is our neighbor, including those we might tend to look down on, left to ourselves.

I'm sure that twisted logic would tell the WBCites that they are acting in love, but it's pretty obvious to the rest of the world that they aren't. I hope and pray that the people at Westboro Baptist Church come to know real Love, and are set free from their fears and hatred, as I pray that for all-- from world leaders to terrorists to people in third world hell hole slums to those caught up in sex trafficking. I want to hug you all. because God does.

There's an excellent booklet I recommend on the base topic here, The Mark of the Christian by Francis Schaefer. It's a quick read, less than 10,000 words. I wish every Christian would read this. It's available online (with permission from the publisher!) at http://www.ccel.us/schaeffer.html .

 

Passages from The Message copyright © 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996, 2000, 2001, 2002 by Eugene H. Peterson.

Persevering under the crushing yoke of Mileshood

To all concerned:

Yes, I am still persevering under the crushing yoke of Mileshood.[1] Each day I have to hang out with people I love, eat at all sorts of incredible non-chain restaurants, revel in creativity, hang out with people who love me, hug and be hugged, make music, think weird thoughts, write, laugh & cry with people, look at beauty all around me, and so on.

Despite all of this, I love my life.

Denise Canny asks, "Man... what have you done to deserve such a woeful existence?"

Over the last few years I decided to:

• love unreservedly;
• live unoffended;
• be me and enjoy it;
• do things i like and am good at;
• hug a lot.

Y'all beware, if you do these things, you could end up like me.

[1] Thanks, Randy Kirchhof, for that delicious expression.

And When I Die... When I'm Dead, Dead and Gone

I've meant to write this up for a while. Thanks to Caryn Werner for inspiring me to just do it!

Most funerals annoy me. Funerals are supposed to be for the living, but so many are depressing. I'm not saying everyone needs to have a funeral like I want mine to be... well, maybe I am!

I think the Irish (among others) were on the right track with a wake, a party. Not getting drunk, per se, but just having a party, celebrating the good times, the memories, the things that mattered about a person. Laughing at their foibles. Stuff like that.

Rather than focusing on the fact they're physically gone, focus on who they were and what they meant-- and mean to you. Let them live in, with, and through you!

I need to update the list of what I want at my funeral. Sharon knows some things, but the details change.

1. No black, unless you're really old or a goth or something. Everyone else wearing dark or boring clothes gets handed a bright tee shirt at the door they have to wear over their other clothes. Best to wear tie dye, Hawaiian shirts, etc. Bathing suits are fine. For all I care, show up in your birthday suit, but that might be more hassle than it's worth; this is an all ages event.
2. If you walk around with a sad face, prepare to get hugged, tickled, pranked, or told funny stuff.
3. Everyone should leave with something of mine that means something to them. There is to be no actual fighting over things like the Darth Vader Mr Potato Head, but if multiple people want something contests are encouraged. This can be anything from a game of cards to a backward skipping race to a duel with fun noodles (impartial judges shall decide the victor, or an objective rule such as whoever's noodle is biggest after a one minute match shall apply). All parties must agree to the terms beforehand.
4. Everyone has to play spoons, the Mad Magazine board game, or something else fun and rowdy, for at least 15 minutes. Farting contests count.
5. There will be music, and it will be neither solemn nor sad. Sharon has input on the music, but I don't want more than two classic hymns. Petra's _Graverobber_ must be played. There should be at least one live band or singer/guitarist, etc... the more the merrier.
6. Unless forbidden by law (and maybe even then) there must be fireworks.
7. Food! Including Chuys. And good coffee. And desserts.
8. Side parties at a shooting range are encouraged.
9. A bonfire really wants to participate.
10. Hugs. Everyone gets lots and lots of hugs.
11. Crying and laughing are both encouraged.
12. Share your stories!

Ideally, there would be a life size cutout of me somewhere, thumbing my nose at Microsoft, big government, and bad food.

I would prefer to be cremated since the state frowns on using human remains to fertilize the flowers. Preferably in a cheap pine box. Spare no expense-- but not for my dead flesh. Go as cheaply as possible there, and spend the money on those who need it. Some of it should go to Albania.

Afterward, everyone should go hug 6th Street, Albania, Muslims, someone who needs it.

If you must have a memorial, it should have a roadkill symbol.

God willing, this is a long ways off (I fully expect to see you all at my 111th birthday party under the Party Tree!), but I think you ought to know what to expect.

Impersonalizing Suicide

A blogger I follow recently discussed visiting a psychiatrist and having to fill out a (poorly thought out and worded, at that) suicide questionnaire. You know, like when you visit a new doctor, and they want to know whether you have ever had polio or Chron's or amnesia, and when your last booster shot for political insanity was.

I'm not a professional counselor, psychiatrist, or even a professional psycho (I'm strictly amateur) but I have dealt with a number of suicidal and depressed people, and the mere fact that a doctor relegates the initial discussion of suicide to a written questionnaire is very disturbing. What's next, an online Survey Monkey survey on suicide so they can decide whether to grant you an appointment?

Maybe they should use an automated telephone survey.

"Press one if you have never contemplated suicide (in which case we know you're lying).

"Press two if you are just sort of contemplating suicide.

"Press three if you contemplate suicide a lot.

"Press four if you have a suicide plan.

"Press five if this plan involves shooting up a school or flying a plane into a government building; then hold while we dispatch a SWAT team.

"Press six if you have a gun in your mouth right now.

"If you have already committed suicide, please hang up and call nine one one. To hear these options again, press star."

I realize that depression and suicide are not joking matters. If you are feeling suicidal, contact me. If you're in the Austin area, we'll hug you and love you through it. If you aren't, we'll find someone where you are who will.

This method is not approved by any licensing body, as far as I know, but it has a high rate of success.

Sometimes we may need professional help... but I've seen love work miracles. Even if you need professional help, love and hugs are still good.

My Valentines Day Protest

Valentine's day is supposed to be about love. Love isn't just a mushy feeling, nor is it only something that happens between what we think of as lovers (at whatever level of involvement). Do I love my wife? Absolutely! But I also love my kids, my siblings, my parents, my extended family (bio and otherwise), my friends, etc.

So, rather than rail against Valentines Day, rather than be jealous or angry or allow yourself to feel victimized if you are single, just find ways to love on people. If nothing else you'll have made the world a better place and feel good about yourself. But there's a real chance you'll feel some love back.

If you want to protest against the crass commercialization of yet another holiday, and in fact of love, or against the insane over-romanticization of the day, which leaves women (and men) feeling left out, lonely, rejected, abandoned and/or inadequate, which sets people up to feel like failures or to have absurd expectations, by all means do so. But part of your response should be to simply love on people. Don't just try to feel something, DO something. Tell someone they matter. Hug them. Buy them dinner, or a coat if they need it, or hand out friend valentines like we did in grade school. Sweep a floor. There are a gazillion things you can do.

Regardless of your take on this, know that you are deeply loved by the one who made you, and by me. We both think you're awesome. And if you want a hug, you know where to get one if you can get to me!