Can God’s love be enough? Inside Jerry Sandusky's church

 Dana Garrett is a CNN senior producer covering the Penn State scandal. This is her account from State College, Pennsylvania.

If the community of State College, Pennsylvania, is still reeling from the horrific allegations against one of the community’s most prominent men, then the spiritual community of St. Paul’s Methodist Church is feeling the shock all the more intensely.

Former Penn State assistant football coach Jerry Sandusky, accused of sexually molesting eight young boys, has been member of this church for 30 years, along with his wife Dottie. Until his arrest almost three weeks ago, they rarely missed a Sunday service.

So it’s understandable that when I showed up at the front door of the church this past Sunday, identifying myself as a CNN producer, I was not met with open arms. The man who greeted me made it clear the media was not invited in. But after we continued to talk, his demeanor softened and he told me that yes, of course, I was welcome to worship with them.

I was escorted into the sanctuary and took a seat in the back. A quick scan of the pews revealed that Sandusky, who maintains his innocence, was not in attendance. I had thought if he was going to church at all, the earliest service (typically the most lightly attended) would probably be the one he might choose.

A time for peace
The service had already begun when I arrived, and so within moments of taking my seat, I was invited to stand and “pass the peace” to those around me. I couldn’t help but think that peace is what this community must be longing for the most right now. Peace from the graphic knowledge of what Sandusky is accused of doing; peace from the media presence that has descended on their small town like an invading army; even peace, perhaps, from the nagging questions some may be asking themselves -- “is there something I should have noticed? Is there something I could have done?”

Soon the man who greeted me was there with a broad smile and firm handshake. He signaled to the pastor, who quickly approached to welcome me to their service. Before returning to the altar, I heard him tell the man to “make sure she gets mugged.” At first I wasn’t sure what to make of that statement. Having been yelled at on a daily basis at our live location on the Penn State campus, and witnessing several acts of vandalism against our and other network’s satellite trucks, I know that many students and residents of State College are ready to see us leave. But mugged?

In a minute, however, the man returned with a coffee mug bearing the name of the church -- a gift to new visitors. Inside the mug was a card with the service schedule on one side and a message on the other that read, “Do you know that God’s love can and does achieve great things, even amid the turmoil of today’s world?” 

I’m sure this congregation has a lot to say about turmoil right now. And as I sat there, I wondered what a pastor can possibly say at times like this to help quiet the turmoil caused by allegations of child molestation by one of their own revered members. Can God’s love be enough to calm that stormy mix of anger, hurt and betrayal?

Looking for guidance
As the sermon began, I thought perhaps he wouldn’t even address the scandal that has absorbed the rest of the country for nearly weeks. After all, this was the third Sunday service since Sandusky’s arrest. Perhaps whatever needed to be said, whatever could be said, had already been spoken.

But it soon became apparent to me that Senior Pastor Ed Zeiders felt his flock still needed some guidance as to how to process it all, and how to respond. He never once mentioned Sandusky’s name, but his message was clear: The only way to respond to the tumult swirling around this community is by being “authentic” Christians -- with love and without judgment, for the victims and the accused. “We are entrusted with the light of the world,” Zeiders told his congregation. “We are the bearer of each other’s burdens. ... (called to) to care for each other as deeply as we can.”

After the service Zeiders greeted me with a warm embrace. I asked whether Sandusky, if the allegations are proven true, should be forgiven. He said yes without hesitation, but quickly added that forgiving does not mean forgetting, or that people should not be held accountable.

Sandusky welcome in church?
He told me he’d spoken to Sandusky every day since his arrest, without revealing who called whom or what had been exchanged between them. I struggle to imagine the challenges of this man’s job -- ministering both to those who have been victims of abuse and to those who stand accused of being abusers.

And I struggle to imagine what it will take for this faith community to heal. Some parishioners told me they were still in a state of shock, and were not sure the allegations are true. A long-time church member said the accusations just don’t fit the Jerry Sandusky he knows. The man's wife didn’t want to believe the charges either, but acknowledged where there’s smoke, sometimes there’s fire. I asked another couple if parishioners would welcome back Sandusky? I was told that about half the congregations would. The other half? Not so much.

“Do you know that God’s love can and does achieve great things, even amid the turmoil of today’s world?” I believe I’ve seen some of that already. In the candle-lit faces of students at a Friday night vigil for the victims, in the sea of blue at the Penn State-Nebraska game; and in the writings of Penn State student Matt Bodenschatz, who finally felt empowered to reveal his own childhood abuse, freeing him of a burden and shame he’s held for thirty years, in hope that it would empower others.

This horrible ordeal has raised awareness and sparked a national conversation about childhood sexual abuse that could very likely save some children from becoming tomorrow’s victims. Is that the greatness that will emerge from the turmoil? Only time will tell.

What I do know is that, despite the upheaval and torment in this parish family, they were still willing to welcome a stranger who they may have at first viewed with suspicion. I came as just a member of the intruding media. I left there having received peace, the body and blood, a warm embrace, a mug, and a better appreciation for the anguish that is being felt in every fiber of this community.

Talents

Proverbs 18: 15-16

1 Peter 4: 8-11

Matthew 25:14-30

Talents

Starting is the first step to succeeding. We cannot be afraid of failure. I grew up in Northwest Ohio. I  played baseball, and at one time I was quite a fan. A fan of the Pittsburg Pirates.  Yes, not Cleveland or Cincinnati, but the Pirates.  And I liked the stories of the players of the game long before there were steroids and players who go from team to team about as fast as base runners at times, depending on the dollar sign interests of the  managers and team owners and the interests of their own salaries. So here is a little baseball story for you. In 1915 Ty Cobb set the single season record for stolen bases, 96. Seven years later, Max Carey of the Pittsburgh Pirates became second best with 51 stolen bases. Does this mean that Cobb was twice as good as Carey, his closest rival?

Look at the facts: Cobb made 134 attempts, Carey, 53. Cobb failed 38 times; Carey only failed twice. Cobb succeeded 96 times, Carey only 51 times. Cobb's average was only 71 percent. Carey's average was 96 percent. Carey's average was much better than Cobb's, but Cobb tried 81 more times than Carey. Here what is most important about Cobb’s record: His 81 additional tries produced 44 more stolen bases. Cobb risked failure 81 more times in one season than his closest rival and as a result Cobb goes down in history as the greatest base runner of all time. Why? Because he tried. He was willing to fail.

Before we go too far, it is important to understand the word talent used here by Jesus. Talent here is a sum of money.  Jesus is using it as a metaphor, however. He is using it to mean the gift for service, the spiritual gift that God gives each and every one of us.  Here too we have to understand the difference between talent and spiritual gift. Ty Cobb and Max Carey had talent. They were outstanding baseball players. But that does not mean their baseball prowess was also their spiritual gift. Talent is something very human, depending largely upon our genetic makeup. Spiritual gifts are God given. Sometimes we can combine the two, as the young woman who leads the Harlem Ambassadors basketball team. She, and the team she assembles and coaches, uses their basketball talent as a way of gaining opportunity to use their God given gift of speaking and ministering to spread Jesus’ message, especially to youth.

Jesus told this story of a wealthy landowner who was preparing for a long journey. He called his three servants—not slaves but employees-- and divided his money between them. To one servant he gave five talents, meaning in that situation a sum of money, to a second two, and to a third one. He entrusted his wealth to them. We read about what each did with his talents. Some think that the landowner was too harsh on the one who was very conservative and protected what had been entrusted to him. And we wonder what would have happened if the others who took risks had lost the landowner’s money?

 We are all equal in the eyes of God. God loves each and every one of us, each and every person born on earth, equally. But when it comes to our abilities, we are as different as different can be. God simply did not make us all the same. There are some people who can handle five talents, spiritual gifts; there are some who can handle only one. There are some persons who have great intellectual capabilities, and some who do not. Not everyone is an Einstein or Steve Jobs or Thomas Edison. There are some who have the ability to project and articulate their thoughts, and there are some who cannot. Not everyone can compose music like Mozart or write poetry like Robert Frost. But, despite what each of us cannot do, each one of us does have a God given gift that he expects us to use to our fullest in bringing his kingdom forward.

The important thing to remember is that each servant was given something. No one was left to be idle. You may not be a five-talent person, but you have some talent. We all do. And you know something? I think that there are a whole lot more one and two talent people in this world than there are five talent people. Oh, there are some people who seem to have it all. I won't deny that. But most of us are just one or two talent servants.

The landowner now went on his journey. When he returned he called together his three servants and asked them to give an account. It seems that the five talent man had invested his talent and was able to return an additional five talents, a 100% return. So, too the two talent man doubles his money. Well, done good and faithful servant." But what about the one talent man? He stepped forward and said: Sir, I knew you to be a hard man, reaping where you did not sow. So he returned that which he had originally been given him. The landowner, incensed, uses words such as "slothful" and "wicked." Angrily he took the talent back and gave it to the servant who now had ten. Seems rather harsh at first. 

What is the message Jesus is trying to give us? God expects a return. We had better not simply bury that which has been given us and return it when he comes. We may fail when we invest our spiritual gift in God’s work, but we must at least try. And we have Jesus’ promise, that if we do use our God given gifts in his service, instead of burying the Holy Spirit will be with us and we be rewarded for our efforts.

Why didn’t the one talent man do something with the talent he was given? Perhaps it was fear of failure. Why not be safe and take no risks? At least it would seem he had lost nothing. If you take risks you do stand a chance of failing, losing. Ty Cobb took a lot of risks. He was willing to fail in order to succeed. Max Carey played it a lot safer.

Another reason he might chosen not to do anything was he didn’t know how. To do something of value that gains a return on our efforts we must learn and practice. That means lots of time, studying, trying, failing.  It’s an oft-quoted truism in books on learning and productivity that it takes 10,000 hours to achieve true mastery in any skill, from composing symphonies to playing tennis.

Is it true? I have absolutely no idea. It’s probably close to accurate, although for some it might take more, and for some less. I think of a child learning to walk and talk. They practice for hours to develop their motor skills and language skills. So maybe it is not an unreasonable number.  We’re used to thinking of genius as an elusive, magical thing that springs fully formed. Boiling down Mozart’s greatness to a regime of dozens of hours a week at the piano until he’d hit the 10,000-hour mark (before his voice changed) makes the idea of learning to play the piano seem more approachable, though certainly not easy. It gives you a sense of the distance between point A and point B.

But just as a baby learns in stages so must we. Especially in terms of living and expressing our faith, using the talents and gifts God has given us. God doesn’t expect us to be perfect immediately. When we start, we may never reach total mastery, but the more we practice, the better we get.  The point again is, we must try. God expects a return on his investment in us. We must begin. And we must keep on trying.

How much time does God expect us to spend practicing and living our faith in his service? Would two or three hours a week be enough?  I think part of what Jesus is telling us in this parable is, God wants us to invest it all. We are called to give ourselves fully, to discern the special gift God has given each of us, and then use it to the maximum. Jesus gave everything for us. God expects us to give ourselves freely in return.

There is another reason so many people do not give to God the return on his investment that he expects: Apathy.. Apathy is a state of indifference, a lack of concern, excitement, motivation and passion. An apathetic individual has little interest in or concern about much of the wider world around them. They are self centered, and lack the God-given sense of purpose or meaning in their life. They have no interest in trying to use God’s gifts, or even learning what those gifts might be. They bury them, as did the one talent servant.

Apathy is the opposite of faith: In his book, The Screwtape Letters, C. S. Lewis tells how a devil briefs his demon nephew, Wormwood, in a series of letters, on the subtleties and techniques of tempting people. In his writings, the devil says that the objective is not to make people wicked but to make them indifferent. This higher devil cautions Wormwood that he must keep the patient comfortable at all costs. If he should start thinking about anything of importance, encourage him to think about his luncheon plans and not to worry so much because it could cause indigestion. And then the devil gives this instruction to his nephew: "I, the devil, will always see to it that there are bad people. Your job, my dear Wormwood, is to provide me with people who do not care."

Change is good.. you go first

Change Is Good—You Go First!

Posted on November 3, 2011 by Gary Shockley

by Rev. Gary Shockley, Executive Director of Path 1

 

Melissa Etheridge, in her popular song, Change, writes, “And so it goes this too shall pass away…the only thing that stays the same is change.” Yeah, that’s about right, isn’t it? Everything around us seems to be changing and at an ever-increasing rate.

Solomon, the writer of Ecclesiastes, spoke of change when he wrote, “For everything there is season and a time for every purpose under heaven.” (3:1) Change means letting something go in order to embrace something else, something new.

The leaves on our trees in Nashville are nearly past their peak of color and soon will cover the ground. I hate to see them go because I know the trees will look bleak without the foliage to cover them. But, unless these leaves let go of their branches the new ones destined to take their place just won’t make it. And so they fall.  And after a while I am glad for spring!

William Bridges, in his best-selling book, Managing Transitions, says it isn’t really change that we resist, but all the transitions change forces us to navigate. Bridges writes about transition as a three-fold process: letting go, stepping into the wilderness, and embracing a new beginning. He uses the biblical story from Exodus to illustrate this.

One could say The United Methodist Church is in the midst of severe change right now. I just spent a week with our bishops and listened with great interest to their conversations about the Call to Action and the change it proposes.  I listened as our leaders wrestled with the reality that our former (and even current) ways of being in ministry with the world just do not seem to be working well anymore. The gap is ever widening between church and culture.  We’re having a hard time letting go of some stuff and our reluctance to change is hurting others deeply, especially those who look to us for Good News!

The church no longer has a hold on our culture. Modernity is dead. Post-modernity is fading fast and what is emerging in its place is at best hazy and undefined. I’m sure William Bridges would say, “Yes, wildernesses are like that.” Seems we’re right smack dab in the midst of one.

A group of us visited beautiful Cheekwood gardens near Nashville last weekend. It was an incredibly beautiful autumn day, the best I can remember for a long time. We walked the Sculpture Trail, which displayed a massive outdoor evocative-type sculpture every couple hundred feet or so. I didn’t quite get the point of most of them, but one in particular gave me pause. It was a huge fractured slab of granite laid out over a span of thirty feet with these words, engraved in Latin across the pieces:

“The order of the present is the disorder of the future.” French Revolutionary, Saint-Just.

It got me thinking again about change. My attempts to keep this present reality ordered are well-intentioned, but as the present gives way to the future a re-ordering happens that seems to fracture almost everything I try to maintain.  

 

As a leader I am slowly learning that disorder is not only okay but preferable if change is to happen. Life is messy. Ministry is messy. Leadership is messy. None of it ever seems to go according to plan. We have to try and fail repeatedly if we are ever to succeed at anything. And then once we succeed we need to let go and start failing again. We have to lose our leaves with their shiny brilliance if new leaves are to take their place. It’s the way God intended and it makes life a whole lot more interesting, don’t you think?

So, what’s a person to do with all this change going on within and around us? Hold on to the present for dear life? Fight to keep the current structures in place?  Work harder to maintain the status quo? Dig in our heels and hope for the best? I’m thinking there’s got to be a better way.  And I think I found it!

In my devotional reading this morning I found this gem from Isaiah 43:19-20. God said through the prophet Isaiah to the people of Israel who were enduring constant bouts of disorder and change:

Forget about what’s happened; don’t keep going over old history. Be alert. Be present. I’m about to do so something brand new. It’s bursting out! Don’t you see it? (The Message)

There it is! There’s our response to change! Be alert. Be present. Be on the lookout. Be expectant! Isaiah’s message was intended to bring God’s people (you and me) a sense of hope (not anxiety or fear) about change. 

Look at the beautiful leaves. Take in their color. Then let them go and look for the new thing coming right behind them. Pray, work hard, expect things will change, work for the change, let go, and trust that God is right smack dab in the middle of it all and out in front of it all!

As we prayerfully move toward General Conference 2012 let’s be encouraged to stand firmly in this present moment, keep doing the best we can do with what we have been given by God, be fully aware of what’s going on within and around us, and at the same time keep an expectant eye out for what God is about to do! And when it comes embrace it, relish it, celebrate it, and then be willing to let go of it again.

It’s like the title of a book I saw recently, “Change is Good… You Go First” I have a better idea. Let’s go together with God!

What do you think churches are still clinging to that they need let go of for the future? How do you think churches need to change the way they do ministry?

About Gary Shockley

Gary is the Executive Officer of Path 1/New Church Starts Division of GBOD, which he serves with joy and gratitude. Prior to joining the Path 1 staff in early 2009, Gary planted two UM congregations, one in Western Pennsylvania and the other in central Florida, where he served on the conference and district new church development teams. Gary has served as pastor in the United Methodist Church since the age of 18. He was ordained elder in 1986 and is currently a member of the Florida Annual Conference. During four years under an extension ministry appointment, Gary worked in fund development with a major capital stewardship company helping churches raise $20 million in capital funds to advance their ministries. He has a Master of Divinity degree from Ashland Theological Seminary in Ohio, and he has completed doctoral coursework in Spiritual Formation at Duquesne University in Pittsburgh, PA. In addition to a life dedicated to parish ministry, Gary is an artist specializing in oil, acrylic and water color mediums (www.garyshockley.com). He is an avid bicyclist and loves to fly fish. Gary is the author of three books, one focused on creative ministry: Imagining Church-Seeing Hope in a World of Change (2009 Alban Institute) another on caring for the soul of the pastoral leader: The Meandering Way-Leading by Following the Spirit (2007 Alban Institute) and most recently his first fictional spiritual novel, Eye of the Beholder- The Father Nate Diaries (2011 CreateSpace). He and his wife Kim, a ministry coach and consultant, live in midtown Nashville and are the parents of two adult sons, Aaron and Jake

Forgiveness

Psalm 32: 3-5

Ephesians 4:32 to 5: 2

Mark 11: 22-26

Forgiveness

Rabbi David A. Nelson likes to tell the story of two brothers who went to their rabbi to settle a longstanding feud. The rabbi got the two to reconcile their differences and shake hands. As they were about to leave, he asked each one to make a wish for the other in honor of the Jewish New Year. The first brother turned to the other and said, "I wish for you what you wish for me." At that, the second brother threw up his hands and said, "See, Rabbi, he's starting up again!"

Forgiveness is hard. The old eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth thing is such a part of us from early on, and we see examples of it almost from the day we are born. There are not many models around us to show us what forgiveness really is, and why Christ taught us to pray, “forgive us our sins as we forgive those who have sinned against us.” In fact, many prefer to change the word from sin to trespass or debt because those are easier for us to think we might forgive. But a sin, well, that means a real hurt, a full separation, a split with anger and bitterness and desire to retaliate. The end of relationship.

So what is real forgiveness? What does Christ mean by forgiveness? And for whose benefit is forgiveness given? Most people think forgiveness is for the sake of the person being forgiven. That is the biggest reason why forgiveness is withheld so often. Remember the words Jesus taught, “Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us.”

Forgiveness is for the sake of the one who is forgiving. Unless we forgive, we are the one who suffers most. When Jesus on the cross asked for our forgiveness, it was for God’s sake, because God wants each and every one of us in his presence forever. Unless Jesus the Son forgave those who put him on the cross, God the Father would be denied any chance of the joy of receiving them into his presence. Whether being forgiven benefited those who put Jesus on the cross was left up to them, and their free will choice of how to respond. What we must remember from Jesus is, unless we forgive, we ourselves cannot be forgiven.

So what kind of response might give them benefit? It is called repentance. That is a word we hear from scripture often. The prophets called upon the people of Israel to repent. John the Baptist called for people to repent. It means to look yourself in the mirror and admit you have done wrong, you have hurt someone, you have abused, cheated, denied, lied, broken a promise, damaged a relationship. Repentance is accepting responsibility for our actions, accepting the consequences, making the admission to the person or persons we have hurt.

By forgiving someone, the burden is placed back upon their shoulders, and we are freed from our share. We are no longer slaves to the sin that was committed. When we fail to forgive we continue to be burdened by the hurt, we are not free to move on and be healed, and too often what happens is the hurt festers, bitterness takes over, we relive the situation over and over, and we suffer. We may suffer long after the person who hurt us has forgotten, Or, we may try to make sure that person never forgets, seek retaliation, and vengeance, and so inflict pain upon them, keeping the wound open over and over. As the brother said to the rabbi, it starts all over again. Such is the way for violence between individuals, and wars between nations.

Jesus told us to forgive and love our enemies. Why? Sure goes against our human nature. Why would he say something like that? Because it drives them nuts. Especially if you forgive in the name of Jesus. They have no way to retaliate that will give them true satisfaction and peace. Unless they repent. Forgiveness shuts down what might seem to be all other options for peace—only repentance can bring peace. Forgiveness and repentance together bring change.

Forgiving does not mean we accept what was done to us. It does not say, “It’s okay”. It does not relieve the person from the consequences of their actions, as long as those consequences are not from our seeking retaliation or revenge. Forgiveness is not condoning or accepting. Nor is it possible for us as humans to forget. Forgiving allows the wound a chance to heal over but the scars will remain.

So what does repentance do for the one forgiven or seeking forgiveness? It means responsibility has been accepted, consequences are accepted, there will be no further attempt to continue the behavior, no desire to try to hurt again. That opens a door to start over, and it opens a chance for reconciliation. Reconciliation is the effort to restore the broken relationship. Reconciliation is a new beginning. For us humans, that restoration, if it happens, will never be same as it was before. Sometimes there is deeper understanding, and sometimes a better relationship. But sometimes, as humans, reconciliation just isn’t possible. The relationship will stay broken. Nor should every human relationship be restored, for the sake of both parties. On earth, among us humans, not everyone gets a second chance. But if there is a chance for any lasting good to come out of a bad situation, forgiveness, repentance, and reconciliation is the path. Jesus made that clear.

We come to the table for Holy Communion this morning to remember a flesh and blood fellow human who worked hard to bring a message of love to the world. After three years and many brilliant moments, he was misunderstood by his followers. He was rejected by the crowds who just a few days before had welcomed him into their midst shouting Hosanna, Hail, and waving banners. He was betrayed by one of his closest friends to whom he had opened himself completely. His life’s mission seemed destroyed.

Then he was wrongly accused, wrongly arrested, wrongly tried, wrongly sentenced, wrongly and savagely beaten, and wrongly and horribly hung on a cross. He felt all the pain you and I could possibly feel. Not just the physical pain, but the pain of defeat, loss, humiliation, despair, and the pain of fear. Close your eyes and imagine this to be you. See yourself in him. See yourself that night in the upper room, out in the garden, then standing humiliated and beaten in front of everyone. See yourself being led to the cross. Feel it. Be honest with yourself. If you had the power, what would you want to do?

Jesus had the power for vengeance, the power to destroy all who had wronged him and brought the pain.

Instead, he chose to accept the cross, and while hanging there he said, “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.” Jesus, the flesh and blood Son of God, forgave us for the sake of God the Father, so that God could have the joy of our presence with him forever. He gave us a second chance. A gift we do not deserve. A gift poured out to us. A gift held out to us.

When you come down the aisle to take this simple piece of bread and dip it in the cup, what is your choice? Will you forgive the sins that have been committed against you? Will you repent of your sins against others and God? If so, what do you choose to do with God’s forgiveness?

If we forgive, and then if we come to the table and repent, unlike our human nature God not only opens the door wide for reconciliation, he restores his relationship with us without blemish. He will forget. The past is gone, we have a true beginning.

God forgives. God calls. What is your choice?