A month ago I was interviewed for an article in the Source section of the Star Tribune on the value of men having friendships. The quotes precipitated several phone calls, e-mails and notes from people around the Twin Cities, men and women alike who resonated with the need for friends. Among those responses was a letter I received a few weeks ago from the Sherburne County Jail. A man whom I will refer to as “Ray” described the white collar crime for which he was convicted and imprisoned, and then goes on to reflect, “Needless to say, Pastor Dan, I have had ample time to reflect on my life, the choices I’ve made – including the people I considered friends and the path that led me to where I am today. I am 50 years old – not uneducated – yet one would not suspect it given my choice in companions throughout my life. I have built a wall around me – to insulate me from ever becoming too close to anyone and now, as I am confronted with what is undoubtedly the largest obstacle of my life, I am alone. I have no one to talk to about my feelings, my innermost fears, my regrets and the tentative thoughts I have regarding the uncertainty of the future.” He goes on to describe his desire for healthy friends and reading materials for their prison library. I wrote back to Ray letting him know that I would share part of his story with you, but what struck me most deeply was his own self revelation that because of how he related to others, he eventually and unwittingly imprisoned himself – long before he was ever sentenced to prison! In our gospel lesson from the sixteenth chapter of Luke, Jesus tells a story about a rich man who unwittingly does much the same thing. In this story, the rich man doesn’t overtly commit any sins, he doesn’t steal or lie or assault, or covet, or swear…he simply ignores a poor, sick, starving man named Lazarus who lives and dies just outside the gate to his estate. And then in the afterlife, regardless of how you interpret Jesus’ reference to Hades, the rich man finds himself in isolation and agony as he looks back on his earthly existence. While staring toward heaven, the rich man sees all too clearly his sins of omission. Through his own self-preoccupation and silence and neglect toward others, he contributed to their pain and plight. Those seemingly benign choices eventually imprisoned him. The rich man’s figurative “letter from jail” was a plea to father Abraham for personal reprieve or at least some other-worldly warning to loved ones back on earth not to participate in the same injustices he himself had participated in. One can almost hear the humorous sarcasm in Jesus’ voice as he concludes his story with the comment, “If they don’t listen to the people living right in their midst, how will they ever be convinced by someone returning from the dead!” And so it is that gates of oppression continue to be supported by the silence of we who are well-healed and well-intended. Who would have thought, that a bathroom stall at the Minneapolis-St. Paul International Airport would become the newest gate of oppression? I don’t claim to know anything about Senator Larry Craig other than how he’s been portrayed in the media. Whether he’s gay or not, his actions sadly depict a segment of our population who are imprisoned by social norms and are shut outside the gate by our complicit silence; people who feel their only outlet for intimacy is an anonymous encounter in a public bathroom. Unfortunately, Larry Craig was not alone, but one of about 40 who were arrested in that stall. I can’t help but wonder what shame based fears prompt such closeted behavior; what false prejudices and stereotypes perpetuate such denial – because I know of no openly (or at least self-accepting) gay and lesbian people who would choose such unhealthy expressions of sexuality. I contrast this image of the imprisoning bathroom stall with a far healthier self-concept portrayed by Charlotte Sullivan in the Opinion Exchange section of the Star Tribune two weeks ago. Charlotte is a preacher’s daughter and college professor who wrote of the difficulty of coming to terms with her sexual orientation as lesbian woman amid the condemning culture that surrounded her – living a lie in order to keep the peace ended up being far more painful than the acknowledging the truth. She writes this letter after breaking out of her own jail-like situation. I quote in part, “Similar to Sen. Craig, I could not live or speak freely regarding my orientation without the fear of scandal and immediate dismissal from my job at a religious institution. So, I’ve resigned, too. Only I won’t – can’t -- take it back. No matter how much I loved that job and the people with whom I worked. I’ve lost a marriage, a house, privileged status, the hope of a traditional family and marriage rights; I’ve disappointed and hurt my loving family; I’ve made my friends and grandmother cry. But I’m finally free to speak. It’s been a hell of a journey to get to the place where I could write this. And to be honest, I’m a bit terrified it might get printed. But my fear is unimportant compared to the value of speaking against the lies of this cruel, discriminatory movement. But the really amazing thing? In spite of all the pain and upheaval I’ve experienced this past year, I’ve never felt freer in my life. I finally know who I am. I am not ashamed. And, oddly, I feel born again. It’s kind of like that one guy said: ‘And you shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free.’” That was a quote from Jesus as recorded in John 8:32. But the quote is of little value if Jesus’ followers keep the gates shut and the closet doors closed by the power of our collective silence. Our Reconciling Committee here at Good Samaritan is challenging us today not to be silent; not to act like issues will disappear if we quietly wait; not to keep people in prison by our sins of omission. National Coming Out Day is October 11th in honor of the twentieth anniversary of the Gay/Lesbian March on Washington D.C. that gave visibility to this cause for justice. One important role of the church today is simply to provide a safe and welcoming space for Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender people to be honest, authentic and free; to simply be accepted as and for whom they are. And even more important, rather than wasting time, energy and resources trying to hold doors closed to one segment of God’s family we’d have even more time, energy and resources to address the real issues of poverty, famine, abuse, racism, homelessness, disease, war and all the other issues that imprison countless others outside our gates. I’m sometimes asked why our church has to get involved in social issues like this. In so many words the plea is, “Can’t we just learn more about the Bible and how to get into heaven and stay out of hell?” From my study of the Bible it’s in large part a story of how we human beings have created hell on earth and God’s persistent and faithful efforts to lead us in establishing pockets of heaven in it’s midst! Related to this same question, Dr. Herb Chilstrom, the former presiding bishop of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, had an excellent response in last Sunday’s paper and reprints are also available on the Reconciling Committee table in the narthex. Curiously, another response to this question about why the church should get involved comes from yet another letter from jail. I began this sermon with a letter from an Elk River Jail written in August 2007, and end with another written from a Birmingham Jail in April 1963. The inmate, Martin Luther King Jr. writes, “I am cognizant of the interrelatedness of all communities and states. I cannot sit idly by in Atlanta and not be concerned about what happens in Birmingham. Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly…. In the midst of a mighty struggle to rid ourselves of …injustice, I have heard many ministers say: ‘Those are social issues, with which the gospel has no real concern.’ And I have watched many churches commit themselves to a completely other-worldly religion which makes a strange, un-Biblical distinction between body and soul, between the sacred and the secular…. There was a time when the church was very powerful – in the time when the early Christians rejoiced at being deemed worthy to suffer for what they believed. In those days the church was not merely a thermometer that recorded the ideas and principles of popular opinion; it was a thermostat that transformed the mores of society.” Social issues that divide and imprison continue to rise and fall and rise again… Unfortunately, this letter from the Birmingham Jail is just as relevant 44 years after it was written. I conclude by paraphrasing for myself the closing words of Dr. King in his letter from jail… If I have said anything in this sermon that overstates the truth and indicates unreasonable impatience, I beg you to forgive me. If I have said anything in this sermon that understates the truth and indicates my having a patience that allows me to settle for anything less than full acceptance and affirmation within the human family, I beg God to forgive me!