The first email I got about it said, “Can you believe he has sunk even lower?” Actually, I think he’s already been as low as you can go, so I’m not sure that I would characterize his current plan as “lower.”
The email was about Fred Phelps and his tiny, family church, and their plan to picket Elizabeth Edwards’ funeral. Do I think that it is reprehensible? Of course. But the fact is that I am already too-well-acquainted with Mr. Phelps and his doctrine of hatred. About the only thing that he could do that would surprise me would be to march alongside Jesse Jackson in a civil rights parade.
My one claim to fame is that I have been picketed by the man three times. I was pastor of a church in midtown Kansas City that took some stances that made him mad. The first time that I received the advance-warning fax from him, in which he called me a “lying, sodomite whore,” I admit that I was shaken. What was he going to do? It turns out that what he did was stay home while he sent some family members, including some young children who may have been blessedly unable to read the signs which they carried. When the protesters started to sing “God hates America” while they walked all over a US flag, they attracted the attention of some neighbors and passerby. They left abruptly.
The next time, we were more prepared. We had volunteers flank the sidewalks where the protesters stood, to provide a line of protection as our worshippers walked from the parking lot. When they started singing “God hates America,” we had a guitar and a singing group on the front steps, singing “They Will Know We Are Christians by our Love.” All went well, relatively speaking, until . . . When I was in my robe and headed into the sanctuary for the worship service, I glanced out the door and saw a lone latecomer who was having to run the gauntlet alone. I stepped outside to accompany that person. When the protestors saw me in the robe and realized that I was the pastor- well, let’s just say that they reinforced the message that they had faxed earlier. Yikes.
The final time, they came to protest the Rev. and Congressman Emanuel Cleaver, who was speaking at a program at our church. The veteran of many Phelps protests himself, Rev. Cleaver simply waited until the protesters left before showing up. Without anyone to yell at, they packed up and went home.
It appears to me that Phelps’ “church” has done more to galvanize those who are opposed to his ideas than my preaching could ever do. After all, there are now groups of motorcycle-riding, flag-carrying, kind-of-tough guys who now drive countless miles to show up at funerals in order to quell anti-gay protests. That’s pretty amazing, when you think about it. And it is another reminder that, when it’s love versus hate, love will always have the last word.
The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never put it out. Keep picketing if you must, Fred. You’ve already lost this one.
