The last time I preached on this Gospel was exactly 6 years ago on October 1, 2000. How completely different our world was then. It was pre 9/11. Pre Charley, Katrina, Wilma. The Red Sox still hadn't won a World Series. Gene Robinson hadn't been elected bishop of New Hampshire. We didn't know what the Taliban was. We were not in a shooting war with anyone.

Yet, so much has stayed the same. Some of this may sound familiar. I do have a finite number of personal sermon illustrations. Some will be new. But I have come to believe that the message is even more important today that even just 6 years ago.

Back in the early '60's, when I was really quite young, we lived in the city of Highland park, Michigan. A fairly small town surrounded on 4 sides by Detroit. It's where Henry Ford had his first assembly line and was home to Chrysler's world headquarters. Dad was on the school board. In fact, he was president for several years. That was my first encounter with the political system.

I remember sitting around the table listening to the local radio station as the election results would come in either for Dad's re-election, or for a millage issue. Even at 5 I knew what a millage was. I remember it as just something we did one night a year. Campaigning didn't seem to be an important, or even visible part of my Dad's political career. It was all rather benign.

Until one day, I was about 7, that would make it '63 or '64. The teacher's of Highland Park were attempting to unionize. At the same time, the civil rights movement was in full swing. I looked out our front window and saw a group of people on the sidewalk in front of our house, carrying signs that said some rather unpleasant and I thought untrue things about my father.

"Why are those people out there saying those things about Dad?" I asked. My sister, Martha had one explanation that I shan't share, but my Mother said that it was because they disagreed with Dad about the teachers.

Even then it seemed strange to me that because they disagreed with my Dad they would find it necessary to attack him personally. I found out later that Dad and the superintendent of schools had been hung in effigy in front of the superintendents house. I never got that. Of course the biggest hurt came when we saw that the associate rector of our church was among those picketing my house. In his case, my sister's assumption was probably correct.

Why'd they have to be so mean? Why did they have to impugn a good man's character because of a heartfelt disagreement? I think it can be summed up in the phrase, "If you're not with us, you must be against us." If you can't support my position, the only position a rational, well meaning person could possibly hold, then you must be against us and there for morally inferior.

I think that's why Joshua was so upset that Eldad and Medad were prophesying outside the tent.. I think that's why John was so upset that someone was exorcising demons in Jesus name without the proper credentials.

We get so hung up with our own situations that we tend to demonize those that go about life differently. If you're against unionizing teachers, then you must not care about teachers. If your for unionizing teachers you must be a socialist. If you don't want to make abortion illegal, then you must be against unborn children. If you don't want to keep abortion legal then you must be against women's rights. If you don't think homosexuality is a God given characteristic then you must be homophobic. If you believe homosexuality is part of ones God given character then you must be a heretic. If you don't believe in ordaining women to the priesthood you must be anti-woman. If you believe in ordaining women to the priesthood you must be a radical feminist. If you're not with us you must be against us. If you oppose the war you're not supporting our troops.

As I wrote in this month's Circular, there is an IRS investigation in process against an Episcopal Church in Pasadena California. It seems that the rector preached an anti-war sermon the night before the presidential election of 2004. Whoever called the IRS contended that the speech crossed the line and endorsed a particular candidate. I haven't seen the text of the sermon, so I don't know. But I would venture a bet that if the rector's view on the war was different, this complainant wouldn't have placed the call. Someone else might have, but not this person. It's that if you're not for the war, you're against the government.

Do you remember, right after 9/11, our president gave a speech in which he said that if a country was not with us as we prosecuted the war on terrorism, they were against us. France wouldn't let us fly over their airspace. Do you remember some places changing French fries into "freedom fries". If you're not with us, you must be against us.

In the Episcopal Church and the Anglican Communion of which we are a part, this line in the sand mentality is alive and well. To some of our more conservative bishops, here and throughout the world, if you are not ready to leave the Episcopal Church, then you are a revisionist and must be avoided. Archbishop Akinola of Nigeria recently referred to the Episcopal Church as a cancer on the Anglican Communion which must be removed. If you don't share our particular understanding of homosexuality and scriptural interpretation, you are against us.

Now don't believe for a minute that the conservatives have a lock on the line drawing. I have heard it said that if you can't support the consecration of a gay, partnered bishop, you are a schismatic, unenlightened cretin.

If your not with us, you must be against us.

But that's not what Jesus said. When he heard that someone was carrying on ministry in his name he said, "Anyone who is not against us is for us." That is a much broader idea of allies than most of us hold. You don't have to be in our camp to be a part of the team. You just have to avoid being against us. Don't be a hindrance. Don't block our journey. Don't campaign against us and we will consider you part of the team.

Imagine if that is how we saw each other in the religious arena. Were would the mean-spirited-ness find itself? There would only be a tiny fringe on either side that actively struggled to derail the other tiny fringe. The rest of us could get on with doing the world of the church - reconciling the world to God in Jesus Christ.

Or the political arena? I can only dream of the day that a politician stood up and said, "my opponent is every bit as good as I am. This community would be well served by either of us. I'm better at this and she's better at that. Make up your mind." Like I said, it's a dream.

There is plenty of room in this world for people to disagree and still see the goodness in each other. There is so much more about me than my political views, theological views or any other set of views I might hold. Judge me by my character, not my views.
I truly believe there is plenty of room in the church, both at the parish, denominational and universal levels for people of goodwill to disagree. That's why I refuse to belong to any issue driven group.

Whoever is not against us is for us.

I don't want to imply that everybody is always right. I certainly don't mean that all religious expression is the same. I truly believe that we have something to offer in the Anglican tradition that other traditions cannot offer. And I emphatically believe that the Christian faith is the faith ordained by God for our salvation. But I also believe that it is the sin of arrogance when we hold out that we have a monopoly on the truth.

God's truth is very large. Much larger than our ability to discern anywhere near all of it. We have only scratched the surface of all God is and will be. We have only scratched the surface on all humankind is and will be. To assume that our views are morally superior to anyone else's is to assume a level of knowledge of God's will that I find hard to accept.

Whoever is not against us is for us. That throws the door awfully wide open. We must be very careful not to place any stumbling block in the way that might make that door any narrower. Christ is a door flung wide. Wide enough for even you and me to enter.