Not trying to start a firestorm here (but recognizing that I may do just that), but I was wondering if some of you would enlighten me (I don't mean that as sarcastically as it sounds) with some interpretation of Romans 13, which I read this morning.

On a separate note, I read this in my weekly email from Sojourners and was moved.

One man, Stanley "Tookie" Williams, faces execution Tuesday, Dec. 13, at San Quentin State Prison in California. With him our belief in human redemption also sits on the gallows, pending a decision in the clemency hearing conducted by Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger.Williams, a founder of the notorious Crips gang, is charged with the murder of four people in the Los Angeles area in 1979. At the time of the trial, he proclaimed his innocence, a position he maintains today. A jury convicted him wholly on circumstantial evidence; in other words, no eyewitnesses or incontrovertible material evidence linked him to the murders, according to attorney Verna Wefald’s appeal.

In one of the robberies that led to a murder, an accomplice was given clemency for pointing his finger at Williams for the murder. Beyond the self-interest involved, the accomplice's reputation as a truth-teller was less than stellar. The prosecution produced a shell casing tied to the murder weapon found at the motel where Williams was staying. But the science that matched the casing to the weapon was speculative and its results have not been revisited in the intervening years, the Los Angeles Times reported.

I revisit the facts of the case because Schwarzenegger's decision to grant Williams clemency will depend more on the possibility of his innocence - or at least the uncertainty of his guilt - than it will turn on the contribution that Williams has made to society over the last two decades.That's tragic, because Williams has become a major figure in the gang peace movement. He has co-authored 10 books from Death Row. The message is clear: Violence is never a solution. He urges young gang kids to get out before it destroys them and the lives of their family members. That's a powerful message from one of the founders of the Crips.Williams first made a public plea to hundreds of gang members who gathered at a Los Angeles hotel in 1993 for a summit called Hands Across Watts. He did not hide his early role in the Crips, but on a prerecorded videotape filmed for the summit told the young gang members that he lamented his history. Recounting this first public event to the San Francisco Chronicle, Williams said, "I told them I never thought I could change my life, that I thought I would be a Crip forever. But I developed common sense, wisdom and knowledge. I changed."

Williams has gone on to build on this witness. In his 1998 prison autobiography Life in Prison, he directed young people to seek an alternative life beyond violence. Prison, he stressed, was no place to spend a life. Two years later he launched the Internet Project for Street Peace. His memoir, Blue Rage, Black Redemption, and the movie, Redemption, came out in 2004.Williams has a bevy of supporters calling for his clemency. They argue that he has changed thousands of young people's lives, and if allowed to live will continue to be a force for good. His street credibility with gang kids is high, so he can reach them in a way that a teacher or social worker cannot.

In the eyes of the criminal justice system, a redeemed criminal is simply another criminal. I recall my first visit to a federal prison back in seminary when starting a prison chaplain residency. The warden of the prison came to the orientation I shared with other interns. His message was clear to us: "I want you to remember that the prison system today is not about reforming criminals. We are here to punish them."Redemption, in other words, has no place in our justice system. We do not offer a path for conversion. Once marked for condemnation, an offender's destiny is fixed.Elsewhere in the world, four Christian Peacemaker Teams members are marked for execution by a radical terrorist group in Iraq. The circumstances are dramatically different, so I hesitate to make the connection. We are appalled by the blind ideology that drives the terrorists and leads them to cheapen the value of human life. In this ideology, the individual is a tool for political expediency.

Don't we want to offer our citizens more in a democracy?

Now reading: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, by CS Lewis
Colts: 12-0

Last night, Kari and I snuggled up by the Christmas tree and watched the 40th anniversary special presentation of "A Charlie Brown Christmas." I've always been fascinated by "Peanuts," Charles Schultz...the wisdom of Linus, the mean streak of Lucy, the carefree Woodstock. A few years ago I picked up a couple books, "The Gospel According to Peanuts" and "The Parables of Peanuts," both of which contained fascinating insight into the spiritual life of Charles Schultz. (Incidentally, in a totally unrelated matter, I also learned a bit of trivia yesterday...the three dead people who earn the most money each year: #3 was John Lennon at about $24M, #2 was Elvis at about $48M, and #1 was Charles Schultz at over $60M.)

Anyway, I found it interesting that Charlie Brown and Linus were complaining about the commercialism of Christmas. It never registered with me that this was created in 1965...So Christmas has been "commercialized" for that long? Then I started to wonder, how much longer than that has it been commercial? The '40s? The '20s? Who knows...

But I always rejoice when I hear this dialogue:

Charlie Brown (screaming): Doesn't anyone know what Christmas is all about?
Linus: I know, Charlie Brown. (walks to center stage and clears throat) Lights please. "And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn. And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone 'round about them, and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill toward men. " (walks back over to Charlie Brown) That's what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown.

From the lips of babes...

May we not forget it Linus. May we not forget it, Lord.

Now reading: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, by CS Lewis
Colts: 12-0

...from the Ashland (KY) Daily Independent.

"There is hope for faith yet" by John Clarke

Last week was the 30th anniversary of the wreck of the Edmond Fitzgerald on Lake Superior. There were 29 souls aboard her.

The shipwreck inspired Gordon Lightfoot to write a song about her called "The Wreck of the Edmond Fitzgerald."

I love the sea and I love sailboats. I've had the opportunity to sail in about eight and even was allowed to take the helm for a while aboard a schooner on Puget Sound.

Each time aboard a sailboat was a magical experience. After purring out to sea there comes the moment when the sails are raised, the motor is shut down, and, aside from the occasional sound of the line whipping against the mast, it suddenly becomes conspicuously quiet.

But as much as I love the sea, I can imagine no greater fear than being held captive in a vessel in 30-foot waves and a bone freezing spray blinding my eyes and awakening the fear of my own mortality.

There is a line in Gordon Lightfoot's song that says, "Does anyone know where the love of God goes when the waves turn the minutes to hours?" My agnostic friends have often used this argument to defend their position. They ask, "How can a loving God allow bad things to happen?"

My argument in return is that free will is no gift. It is a burden that carries terrible responsibility and consequences. I somehow feel that the granting of this free will is very much like that of a parent letting go of a child.

As my father slipped away from me, I made a deathbed promise that I would seek faith. Little did I know the burden of that promise.

I have no difficulty in seeing the hand of God all around me. I feel his presence in the stars and in the wind, I hear his voice in the whispering pines along the lake, I witnessed his majesty during the birth of my two sons.

I have no difficulty in belief. I just can't seem to find faith. I have attended Protestant churches off and on for my entire life and have studied the Bible, as well as the history of the Bible. Best I can tell, Jesus was all about love, acceptance, and forgiveness. If the goal of organized Christianity is to become more like him, I see little evidence of it. I cannot see the good works of the Church because I am blinded by hypocrisy.

The Protestants have Robert Shuller in a scuffle on an airplane, Jimmy Swaggart and Jim Bakker's indiscretions, and more recently, the apparent insanity of Pat Robertson's call for the assassination of the Venezuelan leader.

The Catholic Church is plagued by its own troubles of priests molesting children.

Whereas Jesus accepted the whores, the lepers, the children, the tax collectors and almost anyone else, Christianity so often seeks to exclude. They exclude people from communion who do not share their own beliefs. They also exclude homosexuals and sometimes couples who have been divorced. It seems as though organized religions ponder more on whom to exclude than to include. As far as forgiveness and acceptance, I can't see it.

But the most unsettling thing by far is how so often churchgoers abandon their humanity in return for church doctrine. They would rather convert a soul to their faith than feed a hungry person. They would rather goad their children into their spiritual life than have a frank discussion with them about contraception or drugs.

I drive around our area and see millions of dollars worth of church buildings, parsonages and vehicles, and wonder how much goes from these churches to help the poor, the tsunami or hurricane victims. One church had a flashing sign that said, "Anyone can honk. Tithe if you love Jesus." They had a nice building, too.

My mother would say that I should place my faith in God and not in people. Little wonder Jesus talked about faith the size of a mustard seed. I was beginning to think faith is like chicken's teeth: a rare commodity.

But then, on a dark moonless night, as I was walking down the drive to my mother's home, I spied her through the lighted window. Before retiring to her lonely bed, I saw her kneel in prayer.

There is hope for faith yet.

What if you or I wanted the opportunity to earn a good living, or could grow something for less money, and we weren't allowed? Right now, poor farmers and poor countries in Africa and other parts of the world can't do that because of unfair trade rules.

Together, we can change this. Please sign on to the ONE Big Noise letter today and ask our leaders to make trade fair.

We need to help small farmers, here at home and abroad, but with the current trade rules, it's a game no one could win. Their cotton could compete with anyone's, except that governments around the world give so much money to some big farmers that they can actually then sell their cotton all over the world below cost. Those payments make other cotton farmers poorer everywhere else, and keep people from being able to use hard work and the opportunities given to them to make better lives for themselves and their children.

We called on world leaders to do more at the G8 Summit to fight extreme poverty and global AIDS. They heard us, and now this is the next step in helping the world's poorest people. In December, the world will sit down at trade talks in Hong Kong to consider rewriting these unfair trade rules. We'll need a global deal to address a global problem, because no one will change these unfair policies unless all rich countries agree, at once. Our leaders need to know that we're still watching and want real progress.

Add your name to the ONE Big Noise letter today and ask President Bush to take this opportunity to fight extreme poverty by making trade fair.

This isn't about handouts, it's about giving people who work hard and play by the rules a hand up so they can take care of themselves. Together, we can make ONE Big Noise that will be heard around the world.

Thank you,The ONE Team

Two years ago today (in fact, right about now), Kari and I exchanged vows and were married. These two years have held more than I ever dreamed they would hold:

• My ordination
• A move from Cincinnati to Kansas City
• The arrival of Braden
• Another move, from the senior girls' dorm to the freshman/sophomore girls' dorm
• Leaving behind one community of beloved people, only to discover another

There is so much more I could include in a bulleted list, but the most important event of this time (save Braden's birth) has been a transformation in the way we live, in the way we talk, in the way we see things (life, Jesus, the Church, each other). It has been and continues to be a marvelous journey, and I can't think of anyone I'd rather share it with than my wife. One thing I've learned through some struggles in the past week (see previous post) is that Kari is the one I want to experience all of life with. We've had lots of joys and not much sadness, but we know the cycles of life will take us to those places, too. I'm glad I have Kari for when those times come.

She is full of grace, mercy and understanding. She is selfless and lovely. She is tender and loving. She is warm and sweet.

I love you, Kari. Happy anniversary.

This is a tough one.

Several years ago, the father of one of the guys in our small group tried to kill himself. He overdosed on pills, but someone found him and he was revived. Well, due to some events and circumstances of late, this same guy had been really battling his depression again. As of 9:41 central time on Thursday night, no one has seen him for seven hours, and heavy doses of his medication are missing. The family has basically given up hope already.

He is the father of two kids, a father-in-law, a husband and a friend to many. If you all could just pray for all of them, that would be great. Thanks.

Yesterday, on my sister's blog, she posted how excited she is about Christmas. I don't know if it's a family thing or what, but I can hardly wait. It's interesting how we change over the years...Basically, I can't wait to go home and spend a couple weeks with our families. We have so much fun playing games, sitting around singing, eating way too much (but it's so good), etc. Kari and I already have one of our trees up, and we'll be putting up my sports Christmas tree tonight. I'll try to post pictures (no promises). Anyway, Merry Christmas.

Sis also posted the lyrics to one of her favorite Christmas songs, which I thought was a splendid idea. Here are the words to my favorite Christmas song, "Hand of Sweet Release."

Come thou long expected Jesus,
come illuminate the mysteries of life.
Come redeem us from the refuse,
bring an end to endless suffering and strife.
Be the star that shines so brightly
that it draws our weary eyes to the sky,
to Heaven's sky.
Dearest child of new beginnings,
be the start of something beautiful, I cry.

There's an end to all the waiting,
there's an answer to the "who?" and "where?" and "why?"
tonight.
All the years anticipating, are surrendered to a tiny baby's cry.
There's a dawn to follow darkness,
there's a face to fill the title, "Prince of Peace."
What he promised, he delivered...
I am saved by the hand of sweet release.

In this war I've been a captive,
just a sinner seeking life and liberty.
But these hands that hold me tightly
are the hands that set my shackled spirit free.
Blessed Jesus, meek and lowly,
you have come into my life and made it new,
now I'm new.
Out of bondage into everlasting light,
I owe everything to you.

There's an end to all the waiting,
there's an answer to the "who?" and "where?" and "why?"
tonight.
All the years anticipating, are surrendered to a tiny baby's cry.
There's a dawn to follow darkness,
there's a face to fill the title, "Prince of Peace."
What he promised, he delivered...
I am saved by the hand of sweet release.
What he promised, he delivered...
I am saved by the hand of sweet release.

Now reading: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by CS Lewis
Colts: 9-0

Congress is in the midst of important budget negotiations right now, and one of the items on the table is $100,000,000 that could possibly be used to fight AIDS, TB, and malaria. These diseases, especially AIDS, are devastating third world countries.

One, an organization that is linked to the right under "Sites," has pre-written an email for you. All you have to do is fill in your personal info, and they will send it to the proper parties. Please take a moment (literally, a very brief moment) out of your busy schedule to click here and send an email to your representative. When the Constitution separated church and state, it wasn't so Christians would sit on their hands when they could take meaningful action.

One's philospohy is simple: If the richest nations in the world would dedicate 1% of their respective budgets, we could eliminate poverty. If you believe in their cause, sign the declaration at their website, and then you'll get updates like these in your email.

Now Reading: The Lion, The Witch, and The Wardrobe by CS Lewis
Colts: 9-0

Today I was privileged to attend a special screening of a movie that tells the remarkable story of Nate and Steve Saint, Jim Elliot, and other missionaries who landed their tiny airplane on a sandbar in the Amazon River basin in Ecuador to share the Gospel of Christ with the Waodani tribe, the most violent society known to man. You may or may not be familiar with the story, but I was introduced to new aspects of it which were fascinating and inspiring. The film, "End of the Spear," opens in theaters January 20.

Now Reading: The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by CS Lewis
Colts: 7-0

Those of you who read the story of the faculty/staff's comeback victory last week may remember that the championship game was last night. And what a game it was.

I'll spare the extended details I used in telling the last story, but this game was just as exciting. Both teams played fairly well throughout the game, and as we entered the last inning of play, we trailed by a score of 6-4. We held them scoreless in their half of the 7th, and we came to bat trailing by those two runs.

Our team strung together quite a rally, and the most exciting play of the inning was when Barb, our 70-year-old pitcher, slid headfirst (well, "slid" may not be quite the right term) into third base safely. Steve was walked, which brought up the top of the order. By this time we had scored once and had runners on first and third, still with no one out. Our leadoff hitter, Yort, came through with a big double to left-center, scoring Barb to tie the game, and sending Steve to third. So, the winning run was on third with no one out and Luke, our second hitter coming up. It looked like the championship was in the bag. But alas, Luke hit an innocent pop-up to first base, and there was one out. And BT was coming to the plate. As I approached the plate, I thought they may walk me intentionally to set up a force play, but as they positioned their outfielders it became apparent they would pitch to me.

The stage was set. Winning run on third, one out. All I needed was a fly ball of medium depth, and we would win the intramural softball championship. Steve looked in from third base and clapped his hands, saying, "Just a fly ball, Bradley."

As the pitcher toed the rubber, I looked for something I could drive fairly deep in the air. With the first pitch, I got it. It was belt high, not a lot of arc, and I seized the opportunity. With a mighty swing, I sent the ball hurtling toward the left field foul pole. For a moment I feared it may go foul, but the hook straightened out, and it sailed over the fence for a walk-off, championship-winning three-run home run. It was my childhood dream come true, albeit on a smaller stage than I originally imagined. I rounded the bases with my fist raised high and was met at home plate by my teammates, jumping up and down and patting me on the head. It was the first intramural championship for the MNU faculty/staff in any sport. We won 9-6, having gone through the regular season with only one loss, and sweeping our way through the playoffs without losing a game. I was named the MVP.