This is Father Jared Cramer from St. John’s Episcopal Church in Grand Haven, Michigan, here with today’s edition of Christian Mythbusters, a regular segment I offer to counter some common misconceptions about the Christian faith. 

A friend of mine recently reached out to me because he is deeply concerned about the commitments Trump has made with regard to immigration. He wanted to create an open letter and get area pastors to sign it. He sent it to the pastors of twenty-seven churches here in Grand Haven. Only two pastors responded: me (I said I would absolutely sign it) and one other pastor who found the statement reprehensible.

Now, I’m not here to lecture my colleagues on whether or not they choose to sign public statements on political issues that have deeply ethical implications… but I do think this gives me an opportunity to hopefully break some of the myths surrounding a Christian response to immigration. 

My colleague who was opposed to my friend’s statement on immigration based much of his opposition on the fact that, in his mind, undocumented immigrants have broken the law. And, so, there is no responsibility he bears for their choices. In his words, “If someone breaks into my house, I don’t have to make them breakfast.” 

And I know his perspective here is one that many Christians share. A 2022 survey from LifeWay research found that 42 percent of evangelicals, for example, do not agree that Christians have a responsibility to assist immigrants, including undocumented immigrants. 

Part of their resistance is very likely the same resistance of my colleague: these immigrants broke the law and so they need to face consequences. You may be surprised to find out that the idea that crossing a national border without authorization is a criminal offence is actually a rather new idea. It wasn’t until 1929 that our own country passed a law criminalizing undocumented immigration. 

That law was part of efforts by nativist politicians and white supremacists who believed that the United States should be a nation of white Anglo-Saxon protestants. One way that is abundantly clear was that the immigration laws passed around the same time established a quota system that gave preference to people from northern and western Europe while banning almost all immigration from Asia. 

This racist quota system lasted until 1965 but even the current system, based on the Immigration Act of 1990, is not much better. In the current system, every country is allotted 7 percent of the available green cards. As an essay from the National Immigration System points out, “In practice, this results in the Marshall Islands, with a population of 42,000 people, and India, with a population of 1.4 billion, having the same number of allocated green cards. This also leaves some countries – the ones with a large number of people who want to immigrate to the U.S., such as Mexico, China, and India – with enormous backlogs.

The State Department regularly publishes the Visa Bulletin, letting people know how long the wait for a green card is. The one from August of 2024 indicated that they were now processing applications from Mexico from 2002… people who have been waiting twenty-two years. By contrast, if you are trying to immigrate from Germany, France, or Sweden, the applications take between six months to two years. 

So, telling people to just get in line and immigrate legally isn’t really a solution, especially when the very law itself creates a bottleneck to keep people from Mexico, for example, from immigrating legally. 

What is a Christian to do? Well, getting educated about our broken (and more than vaguely racist) immigration system is a first step, recognizing that these are not people who want to break the law… but feel they have no other choice for the safety and health of their families. And, one hundred years ago, people coming here without authorization wasn’t even a criminal offense. It only became one through the efforts of white supremacists.

Surely, we can do better. That’s all the time I have for today. Next week, though, I’ll unpack further what I think a Christian response to this problem might look like. 

Thanks for being with me. To find out more about my parish, you can go to sjegh.com. Until next time, remember, protest like Jesus, love recklessly, and live your faith out in a community that accepts you but also challenges you to be better tomorrow than you are today. 

This is Father Jared Cramer from St. John’s Episcopal Church in Grand Haven, Michigan, here with today’s edition of Christian Mythbusters, a regular segment I offer to counter some common misconceptions about the Christian faith. 

I am excited to be back with you for this series. I originally started airing these short segments in 2020, during the COVID-19 Pandemic and they continued through 2022. After taking a couple years off—and hearing so much kind feedback from many of you regular listeners who missed them, our parish worked to build funding back in the budget for the series to start up again. 

So here I am with you for episode 89! 

I’m recording this segment on the Feast of the Epiphany, a feast in the church that falls each year on January 6. And, as I reflected on this feast in preparation for my own parish’s celebration tonight, I found myself thinking about how this Feast actually breaks a myth—the idea that Christianity is only for religious people. 

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m a Christian priest and so clearly I’m a pretty religious person. And I’m not one of those people who thinks religion is a bad thing or a dirty word. The word itself comes from the Latin ligare which means to bind or connect to something. So anyone who adopts practices, customs, or ways of living that seek to bind you or connect you to something is practicing some form of religion—for good or ill.

In my own life, both as a priest but also just as a Christian, I have found binding myself to the teachings of Jesus, teachings of love, compassion, and mercy to be an important part of who I am. I keeps me from focusing on my own perspective or desire too much , it helps me grow as a person. 

But, not everyone’s as religious as a priest and that’s OK! And, as I said, the Feast of the Epiphany reminds us of that.

If you know the story of the Epiphany, it’s the story of the magi from the East who came to worship the Christ child, bringing gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrhh. Depending on how the Greek is translated, you may have heard them descried as the Three Wise Men, the Three King, or the Three Magi. 

The word in Greek, though, is magos and that was the same word used to refer to the Iranian priestly caste of Zoroastrianism, a group who gained an international reputation for the ancient science of astrology. 

A few things here are essential. First, unlike the Jewish shepherd who visited the Holy Family after the birth of Christ, the magi were certainly not Jewish. They were from another nation entirely and practiced another religion entirely. And yet, something in their own religion drew them to Jesus, leading them to offer their own gifts. 

Second, though it says that they worshipped the child Jesus, it doesn’t actually specify that the converted to Judaism. It’s even less likely that they would have converted to Christianity—that religion wouldn’t be founded for another thirty-some years, after Jesus died and rose again. 

And yet, their witness and presence is honored, both in the Biblical text and the tradition of the church.

To put it another way, when Jesus was born some Persian astrologers showed up and brought gifts. They weren’t told to change their beliefs and they weren’t turned away. Their gifts were accepted and God even protected them on the way home so that Herod wouldn’t come after them.

So, when I say that this day reminds us that Christianity is not just for religious people, what I mean is that one of the fundamental points of Christian belief is that the child whose birth we just celebrated, Jesus of Nazareth, came to earth for all people, to offer all people God’s transforming and merciful love. Some people respond to that love by binding themselves to it, being baptized and becoming practitioners of the Christian religion. Others, though, don’t... but theat doesn’t mean they don’t have gifts to bring. 

That doesn’t mean you don’t have gifts to bring to bear when it comes to the cause of God’s love and justice in the world. And whether or not other people appreciate your gifts, know that this Christian priest does. 

Thanks for being with me. To find out more about my parish, you can go to sjegh.com. Until next time, remember, protest like Jesus, love recklessly, and live your faith out in a community that accepts you but also challenges you to be better tomorrow than you are today. 

This is Father Jared Cramer from St. John’s Episcopal Church in Grand Haven, Michigan, here with today’s edition of Christian Mythbusters, a regular segment I offer to counter some common misconceptions about the Christian faith. 

The local PAC, “Ottawa Impact” which is currently trying to take over our school boards,  has listed as one of their core values, “A boy is a boy. A girl is a girl.” On its face, this might seem to be an innocuous statement. But it is not. It carries with it an agenda. And it is, quite literally, deadly. 

So, this week in Christian Mythbusters, I’d like to talk a little about gender identity, including from the perspective of the Christian faith.

The problem with claiming gender is as simple as a boy is a boy and a girl is a girl is that this seeks to erase the reality of any person who does not fit within the gender binary. It literally seeks to pretend that the trans community doesn’t exist—and thus only continues the marginalization and discrimination towards those who identify as anything other than cisgender (this is the term for those whose sense of gender identity corresponds with the sex they were assigned at birth). 

First, just from a scientific and realistic standpoint, the idea that “a boy is a boy, and a girl is a girl” ignores the reality of people who are intersex. That is, those who are born with ambiguous genitals, or genitals that do not clearly match their chromosomal gender identity due to a variety of scientifically identified conditions. Most scientists believe that somewhere between .02% or as many as 1.7% of births fall under this identification. 

Yes, these adults (and children) are real. And to pretend they do not exist is to participate in the culture of stigmatization and discrimination that has led to the high rates of infanticide and abandonment these people experience within their own families. 

Second, the true attack of this claim, I imagine, is not on the intersex community (I’m willing to allow that people may be ignorant and unaware of that scientific reality). Rather, it is directed at those who might have a clear biological gender externally but who cannot identify with that gender internally. This could be someone born as a boy who identifies as a girl, someone born as a girl who identifies as a boy, or someone who is nonbinary and does not identify as either male or female. 

The Mayo Clinic (clearly not a secrete cabal of liberalism) even has a helpful article for parents entitled “Children and Gender Identity: Supporting Your Child.” In that article, the staff of the Mayo Clinic stress that it is common for children to go through periods of gender exploration when it comes to clothes and toys and even the roles they adopt in play. For some kids, however, as they get older this sense that they identify as a different gender persists. They encourage parents, “Listen to your children's feelings about gender identity. Talk to your child and ask questions without judgment.” 

People can become aware and able to articulate their gender identity at any age. In a non-discriminatory environment, many adults who identify as transgender can point to an awareness of that reality as young as even seven years old. Some can identify it even younger. For others, they may live for years with a vague sense that they don’t really fit in and it’s not until later in life they realize it is because of their gender identity. 

The reality of children and adolescents who don’t fall into the “boy/girl” categories of cisgender is an essentialreality for educators and school board members to recognize. The American Psychological Association advises “Parents of gender-nonconforming children may need to work with schools and other institutions to address their children’s particular needs and ensure their children’s safety.” Data from the National Institute of Health indicates that 82% of transgender individuals have considered killing themselves and 40% have attempted suicide—with rates of suicidality being highest among transgender youth. 

As adults, these children will also face profound challenges. Most anti-discrimination laws do not protect transgender people from discrimination and so they are often discriminated against in housing, employment, healthcare, legal systems, along with their educational experience and their family of origin. In a recent study, about half of transgender participants reported they had experienced a transphobic hate crime at some point in their life. Half. 

“A boy is a boy and a girl is a girl”—these are words that contribute to a culture that is literally killing trans people, literally killing trans kids. And ignorance cannot be an excuse anymore. 

One more word on this question, before I close. And that is to the loss. Because there is a loss when people deny the reality of trans people. You miss how wonderful, beautiful, and strong these people are. In my work with the Lakeshore GSA Youth Group (http://sjegh.com/gsa), I’ve had the gift of meeting some kids in our schools who don’t identify as cisgender. They are smart, funny, and amazing.

And I think it’s good to be who God truly created you to be.

Thanks for being with me. To find out more about my parish, you can go to sjegh.com. Until next time, remember, protest like Jesus, love recklessly, and live your faith out in a community that accepts you but also challenges you to be better tomorrow than you are today. 

This is Father Jared Cramer from St. John’s Episcopal Church in Grand Haven, Michigan, here with today’s edition of Christian Mythbusters, a regular segment I offer to counter some common misconceptions about the Christian faith. 

One of the realities of being a priest, similar to being a teacher or in other professions where you are constantly planning ahead, is that you live your life in two different times. On one side, it is the middle of October. The leaves are beginning to fall and the concerns of the end of the year are still far away. However, I’m also always living about a month in advance when it comes to church calendars, communications, and bulletins, so my mind and heart are already turning to those holy days at the beginning of November: All Hallow’s Eve (or Halloween, if you must), All Saints’ Day, and All Souls’ Day (or Día de los Muertos for my Spanish-speaking friends).

And so, I’d like to talk about the Christian perspective on death for a few minutes this week, perhaps breaking some myths about what Christians do and do not actually believe about this universal shared experience.

Each morning, a little before 9am, I walk down the darkened church aisle to our chapel near the front of the church, on the left. Originally it was the entrance to the historic church when it was constructed some 150 years ago. However, we have repurposed it into a small chapel we can use for Daily Morning Prayer during the week and our small service of Holy Eucharist and Healing at Noon on Wednesdays.

Once I get everything set up, I turn on Facebook Live on my phone and begin the daily morning prayers of our church. They take about fifteen minutes to say, when you include the daily Scripture readings and psalms, and usually it’s just me there in the chapel. There are also often two to four people on Facebook Live, praying with me, which is nice. But I am always aware of someone else.

We call our chapel the “All Souls’ Chapel” because the 150-year-old wall opposite the altar in that chapel houses a Columbarium: a place where people’s ashes can be deposited, along with a name plate marking the spot. We just put ours in a few years ago and there is currently just one occupant: Fr. Kenneth Michnay. Father Kenneth was an ELCA pastor who, because of our church’s ecumenical agreements with the Lutherans, was able to serve as a priest associate in our church. He died in the winter, early in the COVID-19 pandemic, from the virus. I miss him dearly, not only as a colleague but as a friend as well.

But his niche in the Columbarium happens to be right behind my head, when I am seated saying the prayers, and so I have a concrete sense that he is praying with me as well, wherever he is in the nearer presence of God.

I lost another friend this year, Chuck Wibert, the verger emeritus at our church. A verger is kind of like a Master of Ceremonies and Chuck made it a point, since he was retired and more available than other vergers, to serve and help me lead funerals. He died of heart failure several weeks ago and we buried him outside in our Parish Memorial Garden, another place where people can have their ashes interred. His ashes are actually buried in the grass, at the right side of the altar, exactly where the verger would stand if we were celebrating mass out there. And every time I stand at the outside altar, I’ll think of him and remember that he is right there, worshipping with me.

In the Eucharistic Prayer that I say whenever we have communion at funerals, there is a line that always stands out to me, “For to your faithful people, O Lord, life is changed, not ended.” For Christians, we do not believe death is the end of life, only that life is changed by death. The person still exists somehow, somewhere, held by the love of God until the time when God heals and restores all creation in God’s love. 

One of the great questions I often get when new people join our church is why we pray for the dead. Most of them likely assume it’s because of something like the Roman Catholic understanding of purgatory. I always tell them that we pray for the dead because we believe they still exist. In the same way that I pray for those who I love who are living, after someone dies my love, my concern for them doesn’t evaporate. And so, I pray… I pray that whatever that journey into God looks like after death, they find strength. I pray that they feel my love and how much I miss them. And I pray that God will bring us all home together in the end. 

At our church, these prayers all come together at the end of this month and the beginning of the next. On Sunday, October 30, our Latin American members are hosting coffee hour after the 10am liturgy and then, together, we will prepare the Día de los Muertos Ofrenda, setting up pictures of our loved ones in that All Souls’ Chapel. Then, on Tuesday, November 1, we will celebrate the great Communion of Saints at 6pm with a festive service of Holy Eucharist, complete with chanting and incense and joy. And on Wednesday, November 2, at 6pm, we will come together for a Requiem Eucharist to say aloud the names of those we miss, those we pray for during this holy and sacred time.

Because they are not gone. Their life has been changed, but their love for us, and ours for them, can never be ended by the power of death.

Thanks for being with me. To find out more about my parish, you can go to sjegh.com. Until next time, remember, protest like Jesus, love recklessly, and live your faith out in a community that accepts you but also challenges you to be better tomorrow than you are today. 

This is Father Jared Cramer from St. John’s Episcopal Church in Grand Haven, Michigan, here with today’s edition of Christian Mythbusters, a regular segment I offer to counter some common misconceptions about the Christian faith. 

We are at challenging point in the life of our country, in the experience of the church in America, and in many local communities, including mine here in Grand Haven, Michigan. It seems as though for the past several years we've been caught in an endless downward spiral of divisive rhetoric and polemic, increasingly unable to hear the perspective of those who disagree with us and increasingly willing to paint the opposition with a broad brush.

I want to be honest with you that I'm not sure at times how best to handle that reality. 

I mean, I look around me and I see the erosion of women's rights, the continued marginalization of the LGBTQIA+ community, people who use the phrase “parents’ rights” as code for the attempts some parents to control the schooling of all other children, the conversion of the immigrant and refugee community into pawns that are moved around the country for political ends… I see all of this and it’s hard not to speak up, to try to say something against this kind of corruption and injustice.

And it's hard, it's so hard, not to appear strident when human rights seem to be at stake. I know don't always do a good job, but I hope you know I'm trying.

Earlier this week someone sent me a message in response to some of the criticisms I have publicly levied against current school board candidates in our own community who are trying to unseat our good and faithful incumbents. One member of the community told me that I'm a bully for the things I've said and the criticisms I have raised.

As much passion as I have for these questions of human rights and dignity, I don’t want to come off as a bully. And so, I thought about it. I thought about it really hard. And I thought this week I might try to parse some of the difference between disagreeing with passion and disagreeing as a bully. 

At the basic textbook definition, a bully is someone who seeks to harm, intimidate, or otherwise coerce someone who is vulnerable (or someone who is perceived as vulnerable). And that is the first and key point I want to make right there. Bullies are those who seek to intimidate and coerce the vulnerable.

What is unfortunate is that some people in our society, people who are actually trying to intimidate vulnerable populations like queer kids or refugees, these people call those who disagree with them bullies. It is an excellent example of some kind of cognitive dissonance, of doing something bad but then turning and saying it’s really your opponent that is doing the bad thing.

To call out marginalization, to point out the harm of policies that are being advocated for in our schools and our country, to make it clear the ways that these policies and approaches will have a devastating impact upon vulnerable communities, this is not to be a bully. 

To say it another way, for one person to stand up and tell a bully to stop punching a vulnerable person, to tell them they are doing damage, that is not bullying. You can tell it is not bullying because the person being called out is someone with power and the person being impacted and hurt is someone who is vulnerable. 

The history of the Hebrew Scriptures is filled with the condemnation of false prophets who proclaimed everything was okay in society, despite rampant sin and corruption, despite the marginalization of those who did not have a voice. These were prophets who only sought to make the comfortable and powerful more content with the status quo, knowing that upsetting the status quo might threaten their own comfort.

Everything is not okay in our country right now. Everything is not okay in our communities. Everything is not okay in the church. And I know, I swear to you I know, there are times when I could phrase things more gently, when I could perhaps have more kindness and curiosity toward those who disagree with me. And I promise, I will try to do better with that.

But the people of God cannot be silent in the face of injustice. Christianity has a really bad history of supporting the status quo at the expense of vulnerable communities, of telling the bullies it will be okay while the vulnerable are being squeezed and pushed aside.

So, I will try harder with the words that I use, absolutely. But I will not be silent. I will not be silent at the ongoing attacks upon the vulnerable right now. And I hope you won’t be quiet either. Because it is when good people stay quiet that the real bullies win.

Thanks for being with me. To find out more about my parish, you can go to sjegh.com. Until next time, remember, protest like Jesus, love recklessly, and live your faith out in a community that accepts you but also challenges you to be better tomorrow than you are today. 

This is Father Jared Cramer from St. John’s Episcopal Church in Grand Haven, Michigan, here with today’s edition of Christian Mythbusters, a regular segment I offer to counter some common misconceptions about the Christian faith. 

The mourning and funeral for Queen Elizabeth II last month was watched around the globe. The longest-serving monarch that England has ever known, the preparations for marking her death and committing her to God were carefully done  far in advance and likely touched even those more skeptical about the essentiality of the monarch to twenty-first century England. 

Of the many roles the Queen had, one of them is actually connected to my own denomination, The Episcopal Church. For the past five hundred years or so, the monarch has been known as Defender of the Faith and Supreme Governor of the Church of England. That means that Elizabeth II was also the highest-ranking lay person in the Anglican Communion, choosing the Archbishop of Canterbury, for instance, who serves as the spiritual leader of our Communion. 

As I watched the carefully orchestrated funeral last Monday morning, I was reminded of something my friend Chuck Wibert used to say when it came to funerals. Chuck was what is known as a verger in our congregation, basically a Master of Ceremonies. And Chuck would tell everyone before a funeral that the approach we take—one with careful liturgy and music, and with a pall covering the casket so you cannot see the wealth or importance of the person being buried—we do all of this to make it clear that at death we are honored for what is truly most important: that we are a beloved baptized child of God. 

“When the Queen of England dies,” Chuck used to say, “She’ll get the same treatment you do as a Christian because we are all equal before God.”

Now, of course, the queen clearly did not get exactly same treatment as your average Episcopalian funeral, but the underlying principle and point Chuck was trying to make holds. And so, this week I’d like to break the myth that pomp and circumstance is just for the death of a queen. It is available for you as well, because you matter that much.

Part of the difficulty with funerals is that our culture—and our various religious traditions—have jumbled together all sorts of customs and services done when somebody dies. Traditionally, there would be a time for preparation of the body and visitation with the family. Then, at the funeral liturgy, the deceased would be commended to God. Finally, at a wake, memories would be shared and the person’s life toasted.

These days, however, the ubiquitous “Celebration of Life” tries to accomplish all three at the same time—time with the family, prayers and religious customs, and remembering the person who died. And, by trying to cram so much into one service, none of it can be done terribly well.

But if we tease the central part out of that gordian knot of customs and look only at the heart of what the funeral liturgy is meant to do, we will discover that holding that piece well can be profoundly more meaningful than a smushed-together cultural cluster.

At its heart, the funeral is the gathering of the faith community to commend someone to God. What matters, at the end, is not how successful they were, whether they were a saint or a scoundrel. In the end, what matters is that God’s love, through baptism, has claimed you. 

And so, as I said, the casket or urn is covered with pall, a piece of heavy and embroidered fabric that is a symbol of baptism. And everyone, no matter how loved or how hated, how rich or how poor, gets that same baptismal pall. For God loves and embraces us all equally out of God’s mercy.

In our tradition, we also don’t have numerous arrangements of flowers, photos, or other memorabilia. Those can be comforting to the family before at a visitation or afterwards at a wake or reception, but the funeral isn’t about a multiplicity of flower arrangements. Instead, for every funeral, there are two arrangements of flowers near the altar, a gift marking that holy space in honor of the one who has died.

In fact, our liturgy doesn’t even have a place for a eulogy. Once again, remembering is something best done as a community, when we can talk to each other and share multiple stories. Instead, a sermon seeks to blend together the life of the person who died with the Gospel of God’s love and forgiveness which holds us all, in life and in death. 

Of course, there are parts that are different with each funeral. The choices of hymns and music, whether or not the service is chanted, if there is incense… but truth be told, with so much of it done so carefully, with pomp and circumstance for every person who died, you get a sense of the importance with which our faith community holds each and every person… a manifestation of our belief that God’s love also holds each and every person.

My friend Chuck actually died not that long ago and we’re getting ready for his funeral in a couple weeks. It won’t be what we saw on TV for the queen… but it also won’t be that far off, when it comes to the service itself. Because what Chuck would tell you is that what matters most is that God loves him, God saved him, and it is God who will welcome him home—imperfections and all. 

Thanks for being with me. To find out more about my parish, you can go to sjegh.com. Until next time, remember, protest like Jesus, love recklessly, and live your faith out in a community that accepts you but also challenges you to be better tomorrow than you are today. 

This is Father Jared Cramer from St. John’s Episcopal Church in Grand Haven, Michigan, here with today’s edition of Christian Mythbusters, a regular segment I offer to counter some common misconceptions about the Christian faith. 

One of the most potent images in Scripture and the church for our relationship with God is the metaphor of a parent and a child. It lies at the heart of the prayer Jesus taught his disciples to pray, as we address God in that prayer as Our Father. 

At the same time, no metaphor is perfect… and there are ways in which thinking of God as Father can be not only unhelpful but also damaging. So, this week, I’d like to do a strange task and break the myth that God’s like your dad. 

I want to start out by saying I have been blessed with an amazing father. My dad was the best man at my wedding and, though he’s certainly not perfect, he has been a great father throughout my life. So, for me, the image of God as father resonates with my experience of my own dad—someone who loves me no matter what, who will always be there for me, a person I can always come home to.

However, I’m keenly aware that not everyone has such a positive experience with their own father. And that can mean that this metaphor of God as Father can begin to undermine your own relationship with God.

For example, there are those whose father was abusive—either verbally or physically or even sexually. Not only is there profound trauma from being raised in an abusive household, but it can become the lens through which you view your relationship with God. And so, the words of God’s judgment in the prophetic books of Scripture, or Jesus flipping over the tables in the temple, all of this can bring back frightening memories of a dad who was out of control, pouring salt in those wounds.

For others, perhaps their father was distant. It could be an estranged relationship that has grown cold over the years or something much simpler than that. Perhaps your father was not someone who showed emotion, who told you regularly that he loved you. With that lens, God the father becomes a distant figure, far away in heaven, one who probably doesn’t know or care that much about you personally. 

For still others, it could be that your father outright rejected you at some point in your life. Maybe you didn’t choose the right job or live up to your dad’s expectations in school or other aspects of your life. This is particularly difficult for those in the LGBTQIA+ community, who may have experienced this kind of rejection when they told their parents who they truly were or who they truly loved. And so, having experienced this rejection from your own parents it becomes difficult to imagine how God could even tolerate you… much less love and delight in you as you are. 

It could be any kind of weakness, any kind of breakdown in your relationship with your own father that can undo your ability to resonate in a positive way with the image of God as Father. 

The great evangelical preacher, Haddon Robinson, spoke powerfully in a sermon on the prophet Hosea once, saying (and this is a long quote, so bear with me):

I believe that [God’s love] is the hardest single thing for Christians to understand. I do certain things and I can get God to love me more. Some of you grew up in homes where you never heard your dad say he loved you. Some of you grew up in homes that were very perfectionist. You came home with three A’s and one B and your father would say, ‘How come you didn’t get four A’s?’ And so you worked hard, you got four A’s, you brought home four A’s and your parents would say, ‘Must be something wrong with the school system, you get A’s that easily.’ Never once did they commend you. Never once did they approve you. Some of you have daddies who have been dead fifteen years or more and you're still trying to earn their favor. Well, hear me: God is not your daddy. God does not play that game. God just loves you. And when you come to understand that God’s love is unconditional, that he does not love you because of what you are… that grips you, then you respond with worship and service and praise and love.

That’s the end of the quote.

I don’t know what your relationship with your own dad looks like. But if there are cracks in that relationship, if there are wounds you still carry… then perhaps its time to let that go, to be willing to hope, to trust, that God’s love is more than that. As Rich Mullins was fond of saying, there’s nothing you can do to make God love you less… but there’s also nothing you can do to make God love you more.

You are already entirely and absolutely beloved, adored, and cherished. And if you have trouble believing that, please come see me here at St. John’s Episcopal in Grand Have, so that this father, Father Jared, can wrap you in a hug and tell you that God’s love for you is indeed true, unconditional, and very real. 

Thanks for being with me. To find out more about my parish, you can go to sjegh.com. Until next time, remember, protest like Jesus, love recklessly, and live your faith out in a community that accepts you but also challenges you to be better tomorrow than you are today. 

This is Father Jared Cramer from St. John’s Episcopal Church in Grand Haven, Michigan, here with today’s edition of Christian Mythbusters, a regular segment I offer to counter some common misconceptions about the Christian faith. 

I know many of you, similar to me, likely enjoyed the traditional three-day weekend which ends summer each year. I’m always struck, though, that despite the common (and important!) refrain to “remember the reason” for the Memorial Day holiday each year, there is rarely a similar call for Labor Day.

I also know that it may be strange, to sum, for a priest to have much of an opinion on Labor Day, given that labor relations are largely seen these days as a purely secular concern. But I think the reason and origins behind Labor Day actually touch on deeply theological concerns, concerns that are particularly pressing given the decline of labor unions in our own time. 

Many of the roots of the labor movement can be found in Christianity itself. Beginning in the late 18th century and running to the mid 19th century, the Clapham sect in the Church of England (the mother church of my own denomination) was active in calls for social reform. The best-known member of the group was the evangelical Anglican, William Wilberforce. Their denunciations against the slave trade were one of the strongest forces that led to its end.  

With the rise of industrialization in the 19th century, there was a corresponding rise of a formal Labor Movement which advocated for workers in the new industrialized world. Whether their politics were conservative or liberal, many Christian theologians and pastors found themselves aligned with the concerns of the labor movement. 

In an early twentieth-century edition of Biblical World (one of the earlier names of the Journal of Religion, which is still published today by the University of Chicago Press), a theologian wrote, “The ‘workingman’ is first of all just a man, and his power to produce commodities is not the object of his existence.” A person’s value cannot be determined by the goods they produce, their existence has much deeper meaning than this. Christian virtues, like the importance of the Sabbath in Judaism, began to be brought to bear on an increasingly industrialized world, with Christians insisting that every person should have a day of rest. 

Around the same time, in the early twentieth century, the Federal Council of Churches, which included the Anglican, Baptist, Orthodox, Lutheran, Methodist, Moravian, Catholic, Presbyterian, and Reformed traditions of Christianity, adopted something called the Social Creed of the Churches, giving their own support and commitment to responding to these issues. The Social Creed they adopted expressed these convictions:

• For equal rights and complete justice for all men in all stations of life.
• For the principles of conciliation and arbitration in industrial dissensions.
• For the protection of the worker from dangerous machinery, occupational diseases, injuries, and mortality.
• For the abolition of child labor.
• For such regulation of the conditions of labor for women as shall safeguard the physical and moral health of the community.
• For the suppression of the “sweating system.”
• For the gradual and reasonable reduction of the hours of labor to the lowest practical point, with work for all; and for that degree of leisure for all which is the condition of the highest human life.
• For a release from employment one day in seven.
• For a living wage in every industry.
• For the highest wage that each industry can afford, and for the most equitable division of the products of industry that can ultimately be devised.
• For the recognition of the Golden Rule and the mind of Christ as the supreme law of society and the sure remedy for all social ills.

In our own time, including right here in our community of Grand Haven, we are seeing once more the need for strong advocates for labor. While corporations and executives take in significant profits, they also complain about the difficulty in hiring workers. Something about the experience of the past two years has made many people unwilling to work for wages that cannot produce a reasonable standard of living. It’s not that there is a shortage of labor—it is that companies and businesses have not caught up to the fact that workers will no longer put up with inadequate pay nor the constant demands for work created by technology, where your office is always hidden right there in your mobile device, twenty-four seven.

We can set partisan politics aside, I hope, and agree as Christians that the inherent dignity of every human being means we should be concerned with the wages people are being asked to live with, even as corporate funding continues to go up to those at the top. 

In our church’s nighttime office of prayers called Compline, there is one prayer that particularly highlights this concern to me and is a meaningful end to the day. It says, “O God, your unfailing providence sustains the world we live in and the life we live: Watch over those, both night and day, who work while others sleep, and grant that we may never forget that our common life depends upon each other’s toil; through Jesus Christ our Lord.”

Indeed, our common life does depend upon each other’s toil. May we learn, not just on Labor Day but always, to respect and honor that more fully. 

Thanks for being with me. To find out more about my parish, you can go to sjegh.com. Until next time, remember, protest like Jesus, love recklessly, and live your faith out in a community that accepts you but also challenges you to be better tomorrow than you are today. 

This is Father Jared Cramer from St. John’s Episcopal Church in Grand Haven, Michigan, here with today’s edition of Christian Mythbusters, a regular segment I offer to counter some common misconceptions about the Christian faith. 

My first position as a priest was at historic Christ Church Episcopal in Alexandria, Virginia. Our nation's first president, George Washington, served on the vestry of this church and his family had their own box pew that they would sit in during worship. And so, over the years it became customary for every president, at some time during their tenure, to attend worship at Christ Church and to sit in George Washington's family pew.

And while I knew that this was a possibility at some point during my tenure at Christ Church, I certainly did not expect to arrive at church the first Sunday morning after my ordination to the priesthood only to discover that I would be celebrating my first Sunday mass with President George W. Bush in attendance.

And that experience broke some myths in my own heart, impacting me to this day. So, this week I'd like to try to break the myth about what it means to be a Christian when there are the people in the church with whom you deeply disagree.

To be clear, I was not the rector of this church, I was simply a lowly assistant, and the rector easily could have taken the prerogative and celebrated mass himself for that early Sunday morning worship service. But he kindly gave me the opportunity and so I went to my office and worked on ensuring I could wrap my mouth around the Elizabethan language we used at that early service.

One of the things that's interesting as a priest is that people come to the communion rail very differently. Some people kneel and keep their head down with their hands outstretched, focused on the reverent experience with God they’re having. Other people stand up the whole time and look right at you with a smile on their face, full of gratitude and joy.

President Bush knelt at the rail, but he was also someone who looked right at you when you were giving him communion.  I pressed to the bread into his hands and said those old traditional words, “The body of our Lord Jesus Christ which is given for thee, preserve thy body and soul unto everlasting life.” He said, “Amen,” and consumed the bread. 

And in that moment, like I said, something broke open inside of me.

I knew that I disagreed strongly with several of the policies and practices of his administration. I had concerns that were deep and based upon fundamental moral convictions I have is a Christian that there were things happening in the Bush administration that were fundamentally unjust, which were threatening the very peace of our world.

But in that moment, at the altar rail, I was reminded that someday, many, many decades ago,

an Episcopal priest poured water on the little baby George W. Bush. I was reminded that no matter our differences, no matter how faithful or how inadequate either of us are, in that moment George was simply a baptized Christian, coming to receive the sacrament that Christ had ordained for the church for all generations. He needed the grace of that sacrament… and I did too.

I keep a picture on my wall in my office of that day, one that he signed after he and his wife met my wife, and we exchanged pleasantries outside the church. I keep it there to remind myself that there will always be people in the church, people in the world, with whom I disagree… but that my baptismal calling is to treat every person I meet with faithfulness, because every person bears the image of God on their soul. In particular, even when I strongly disagree with another Christian, I am called to remember that they remain my sibling in Christ by virtue of baptism, not by virtue of matching up to my standards… Or me matching up to their standards. 

Because in the end, it is God's love and grace that will heal us all, that will draw us altogether in the divine embrace. Don't get me wrong, you know I still have no problem speaking up when I disagree… But I do need constantly to be reminded of the importance of that love, constantly reminded of the need the practice humility, to be curious instead of condemnatory.

I don't always do a good job, but I'm trying. I'm glad President Bush, simply by being in that church with me so long ago, reminded me that day to try a little harder.

Thanks for being with me. To find out more about my parish, you can go to sjegh.com. Until next time, remember, protest like Jesus, love recklessly, and live your faith out in a community that accepts you but also challenges you to be better tomorrow than you are today. 

This is Father Jared Cramer from St. John’s Episcopal Church in Grand Haven, Michigan, here with today’s edition of Christian Mythbusters, a regular segment I offer to counter some common misconceptions about the Christian faith. 

I’m aware, sometimes, that I give the impression that my own church, The Episcopal Church, is a place of perfect peace, love, and joy—celebrating the full inclusion of all the baptized, including our LGBTQIA+ members as we live in beautiful unity. And while it is true that the Episcopal Church, as a whole, is fully affirming, there are still some bishops and parishes and members disagree with that stance. Division is just as real in our church as it is in any church.

Indeed, some days division in Christianity seems to be getting worse, the polemic more strident. Right here in Grand Haven, some of our Reformed Churches have felt the need to exit their denomination over views on human sexuality. 

So, this week, I’d like to break some myths I think that exist about division in the Body of Christ, and I’d like to use the painful history (and current reality) of my own church as an example. 

As a member of The Episcopal Church, that means I am a part of the global Anglican Communion. We are actually the third largest Christian communion (after the Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox churches), with roughly 85 million members spread across a fellowship of 38 independent provinces. Our roots come from the Church of England, with many of our independent national churches (including the Episcopal Church in the United States) being formerly colonies of England. The Archbishop of Canterbury is the spiritual leader of the Communion, but since each province is independent and autonomous, that means he doesn’t tell us what to do. We listen to him, but in the end, we make the decisions we believe the Holy Spirit is calling us to.

I give you this brief historical background because right now almost all of the bishops of the Anglican Communion are gathered at Lambeth Palace in England for the once-a-decade Lambeth Conference. I say “almost all” because though our Communion has 880 some bishops, only about 650 are attending the Conference this year. Some are not there due to COVID concerns or difficulty getting a VISA to travel, but most who are not there are making that decision because of divisions in our Communion that still persist over issues of human sexuality.

The provinces of Nigeria, Uganda, and Rwanda are all boycotting the Conference in objection to the decisions my church in the United States has made by consecrating partnered gay bishops and embracing sacramental marriage equality. They are particularly opposed to the fact that four of our bishops who are married and gay or lesbian were invited to attend. 

On the other side, however, the invitation to our married gay and lesbian bishops, came with restrictions because their spouses were specifically not invited to come, something that caused significant frustration among many of our bishops—to the point that some of our bishops, including my own bishop, the Rt. Rev. Prince Singh here in Western Michigan, refused to attend the Conference as well in protest to the discriminatory invitations issued to our married gay or lesbian bishops. 

But even among those gathered, the divisions are playing out as many bishops are now refusing to receive communion since there are openly gay bishops in the worship service… And round and round the objections and boycotts and refusals to attend go. The Body of Christ becoming more and more wounded with each inflicted division. 

Each generation has their own “church-dividing issues,” controversies or questions about theology or discipline which people believe are so significant you cannot be in relationship with those who disagree. 

When I was growing up, it was questions like marriage after divorce. Interestingly enough, most Christian churches today permit marriage after divorce (despite what Jesus’ explicit prohibition). I agree with that permission, of course, believing that grace should give people a second chance at love and life after the pain of divorce, certain that if you read Jesus’ words in their historical context, the more traditional view cannot stand.

But back then churches split over the issue, confident that those who disagreed, who argued for something new, were deviating from a core teaching of the church.

One of the first things I learned when I was active in the ecumenical movement, serving in the National Council of Churches, is that our unity in Christ is a gift—it’s never something we can bring about on our own. It is a gift, a unity that is hidden with God in Christ. And that we, as Christians, should be seeking to make that unity a more manifest reality in the world. 

And I hope that on the questions of our own time, particularly questions of sexuality and gender, churches can get to a place where those who have embraced a more progressive view can have room. I particularly hope for this because I know so many Christians whose minds on this question were changed from their experience with gay and lesbian Christians. Until you’ve had the experience of real relationships with LGBTQIA+ Christians, it’s hard to see that there might be a different perspective.

In the meantime, while we work and wait (and pray) for greater unity in the church, I hope you can find room to be curious in your own life, to resist the impulse to separate and divide. And above all, I hope we all remember that none of us are saved by our perfect beliefs, but by the grace of a God who loves us all and welcomes all of us home. 

Thanks for being with me. To find out more about my parish, you can go to sjegh.com. Until next time, remember, protest like Jesus, love recklessly, and live your faith out in a community that accepts you but also challenges you to be better tomorrow than you are today.