Pilgrims, Indians and other folks

I'm sure you all know the story, especially if you were raised in the United States any time before the 1980's. "The Pilgrims lived in England, but they weren't allowed to worship God the way they wanted. So they set out for a new land so that there would be religious freedom for all!" Yes, and then the story goes on to say how they were welcomed and they made peace with the Indians, and how they worked together and the Indians taught them how to hunt and fish and they were so grateful that they shared a big feast that is now known as Thanksgiving.

I was crushed when -as an adult!- I learned that this was pretty much a load of bull hockey. Religious freedom? Sure, as long as you were practicing the same religion as them. Indians? No, they were (and still are) in fact, Native Americans. An indigenous people that was here first, thank you very much. Yes, there was a feast, but it certainly wasn't that first winter, and there certainly wasn't cranberry sauce, stuffing, or maybe even turkey. There was deer and even seal on the menu.

I'll wait while your illusions shatter just like mine did.

...

There. Yes, I'm sorry. It happens to all of us sometimes, having our illusions shattered and having myths we've cherished all our lives blow up in our faces.

It's difficult, it's life-altering, and sometimes it simply is something we refuse to sit by and take idly. We cling to those beliefs like a favorite blanket and when challenged, sometimes we fight back. We fight back with disbelief and angry, hurtful words. Sometimes those words are thought out well in advance and sometimes they spring forth without any warning whatsoever. Both instances have far reaching consequences.

Church is like the story of the Pilgrims and the Indians. It's a happy, loving place where everyone gets along. Right? There is never any discord, or politics, or hurt feelings. Right?

Watch out, good old Mr. Bull Hockey is back. Duck before you get hit with it.

The thing about church is this: the world is made up of a whole bunch of people who neither look alike, dress alike, or even (gasp!) think alike. We're tall, short, in between. We're male, or female, or in between. We're black, white, red, yellow, tan, purple, and sometimes sparkly fuschia. The world at large can be narrowed down into countries, states, cities, and neighborhoods. Those neighborhoods are made up of all of the afore-mentioned crazy weird groups of people.

There's a joke that goes something like this: "They say 1 out of every 3 people is just plain nuts. I know I'm sane and so is my neighbor, so it's not looking real good for you."

We laugh, but it's the truth. I'm just as crazy and biased as the next guy. We all have those biases and preconceived ideas living inside us. Come on people, be honest. Admit it and then learn to deal with it. Your momma raised you better than that.

"If you can't say something nice, then don't say anything at all."

"Live and let live."

"Don't stare, it's not polite."

"One day your face is going to stick like that-"

Momma was right. It's not only our faces that get stuck, it's our attitudes and biases. If you think I'm looking at you when I say this? I'm not. Don't flatter yourself. Sometimes the shoe that is on the other foot is worn by both the 'right' foot and the 'wrong' foot.

There's enough blame and name calling and good old fashioned bull hockey to go around.

So duck before you get hit, and stop spreading it around.