Skip to main content

Are You Really Any Different?

Fred Phelps Sr. is, apparently, dying. And many of you are reveling in this. My question for you is, are you any different from him?

Sure, I think Fred Phelps' teaching of hate is awful. It doesn't jibe with the Gospels. That said, this is America and he has a right to say what he wants and has the right to believe what he wants and the right to pray how he wants. But because his views are unpopular (by today's standards) many of you feel it's OK to laugh at his current misery.

What many of you probably missed, in the many articles on his impending demise, is that he was excommunicated from his own church in August of 2013. Could it be that he saw the error of his ways? No one is saying...but the Westboro Baptist Church picketers are still out and about...and he's not. Do the math.

While done so in a twisted way, Phelps & Co. did a lot to bring to attention the plight of homosexuals in this country. They gave a face to the hatred and vitriol the LGBT community faces on a daily basis. But let me guess, you were too caught up in your outrage (or faux outrage) to notice that point of view...

Sometimes, extreme measures are needed to bring about change. This act is called revolution. While I question whether or not that was Phelps' original plan, it was the inevitable outcome. Many people are now pro-LGBT rights. Many of these people had probably never really thought about the subject before. The issue of same sex marriage is now a political hot topic. Yep...Fred Phelps Sr. and his congregation helped make that happen...whether they had planned to or not. It would be fair to call the actions of the Westboro Baptist Church "extreme".

And now Fred Phelps Sr.  is dying. Kicked out of his own church, he is dying in a hospice. His former followers are preventing many from seeing the man. You might be A-OK with that...but think about this:

Fred Phelps Sr. is a father. His son, Nathan Phelps turned his back on his father's church in 1980. He would like the chance to say good-bye to his father. Fred Phelps Sr. is a grandfather. I've read that his grandchildren are among those being kept from seeing him. They too would like the chance to see him, at least one last time, and say their good-byes. But rather than feel pity for this pitiable situation, many of you are too busy laughing. Reveling in his misery. Just like the people carrying pickets signs at those funerals. You're too busy carrying on to show any compassion or sympathy. You're no different at all.

Sure sure sure...many of you are probably thinking "Well, he brought it on himself". Could well be. But did he ask to die alone? Did he ask to be excommunicated from the church he founded? Perhaps his brain is so diseased that he couldn't see how wrong he was. Would you revel in the misery of a Alzheimer's patient, dying alone in a hospice? Probably not...but because he is who he is, many of you feel its OK to do so in his case. Will you carry a picket sign at HIS funeral? I bet many will. And those people are no different than Fred Phelps Sr. and the congregation of the WBC.

Many of you now consider yourselves advocates of the LGBT community. Well isn't that nice. You feel that having a gay friend or a transgendered neighbor and reposting & sharing your little bullshit articles online makes you special. You've missed the whole damned point. You should be an advocate for everyone. You should be an advocate for equal rights...you know, for EVERYONE. You should be an advocate for love rather than hate. Instead, you'll laugh at Phelps' misery and probably call me crazy for writing this. It's OK. I'm a big boy. Won't be the first time someone has called me crazy. Won't be the last.

Fred Phelps Sr. should be allowed to die with some level of dignity. Anyone should. He should be allowed to say good-bye to those who love him. (Yes, there are people who love him) When his time comes, he should be buried in peace. It's true; he denied many that right...but does that mean that we should sink to his level? If so, we're all no different than him.

Many of you could well be thinking "He's getting what he deserves!" Question: Just who placed you on a throne to cast judgement on anyone? For all the goofy stuff Phelps did in this life, I'd be willing to bet that he did some good as well. The media never bothers with that side of the story...because it doesn't sell. You buy up all the bad while forgetting any good. Sounds like....the Westboro Baptist Church. The reality is simple: Fred Phelps Sr. is dying because he is old and sick. If God  Almighty wanted him gone, he would be. But, like so many others, he's lingering on in misery.

There is a lesson to be learned here. The lesson is one of compassion...even for those we feel might not be deserving. This is not a case of Hammurabi's Code - there is no quid pro quo involved. Fred Phelps Sr. is just a man. A sinner like the rest of us; if you care to follow the Christian teachings. He will be forgiven his sins just as the rest of us will be. (To those non-Christians out there, we of the Christian faith believe that Jesus Christ died for our sins)

If you're reveling in his, or anyone else's misery, you're no different than Fred Phelps and the congregation of the Westboro Baptist Church. You just might want to take a good long look in the mirror before you laugh at someone else. If you believe that bad is ever good, you're missing the point entirely.

I'm not pointing fingers. I'm no saint. But when anyone takes joy in the misery of others, it shows who that person is at heart. A life lived in kindness, love, and compassion is always a better life than one lived in hate.

I'll leave you with this, from the King James Bible. Matthew 5:44 says, "But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you"

Maybe Fred Phelps Sr. finally read that part and finally understood it.

Comments

  1. UnknownMarch 16, 2014 at 4:39 PM

    All I can say is Amen.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Memphis MikeMarch 16, 2014 at 10:21 PM

      Thanks David. Nice to see I'm not the only one trying to use their brain instead being reactionary.

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

A Bluesy Melody and a Scratchy Photograph

Contrary to popular belief, he wasn't born in the mountains. Nor had he been raised in a cave. His appearance, though, often led people to think otherwise. A barber's chair was as likely a place for him to visit as the moon. I don't believe he had ever shaved. His hair, long and unkempt, looked even longer thanks to his seemingly endless beard, which was braided and knotted at the bottom. If unfurled, it probably would have dipped well below his waist.  His mannerisms and manner, while peculiar, were so only in that he was almost religiously polite. What at first glance might appear stand-offish was nothing more than his attempts at being inobtrusive. He was almost like some Appalachian monk, raised by a society trapped in the past, who occasionally ventured into town. He was extremely well-read and more tech savvy than most teenagers. Utmost, he maintained his privacy. No one knew just where he lived. He came and went at his own leisure, unnoticed by the world until he mad...
Post a Comment
Read more

An Old Photo

The photo was old and scratched up. It looked like it had been handled and mishandled for years, and it probably had. Passed from hand to hand, tucked into scrapbooks, displayed in frames, stuffed into drawers, and rescued again. It had been looked at thousands of times. It was still his favorite. It wasn't historically important. Just a photograph of friends sitting in someone's back garden, sharing a few laughs and a few cold beers. The image was every bit as grainy as the memories attached to it. The colors had faded with age, drifting toward reds and yellows. Time had left its fingerprints everywhere. He was the only one left in the photograph. When his time came, would anyone remember those old glory days? Those years when importance itself seemed unimportant. When photographs weren't taken to prove anything, advertise anything, or preserve a carefully crafted image. They were taken simply because someone thought a moment was worth keeping. There was no guarantee the p...
Post a Comment
Read more

The American

 In his native America, he'd always had a shady reputation. As a young man, he worked as muscle for hire, worked as a bouncer in gambling houses and brothels, and always had a side hustle moving drugs or weapons. He could always be counted on to find a buyer for stolen goods, too. He was smart enough to see the cracks forming in the government long before most. Within days of the First Attack, he'd made plans to leave the country. Some of his cohorts with Sicilian lineage helped him get to Europe. From there he was on his own. He managed to bring along a tidy sum in cash and jewels. This gave him the advantage of time to form new contacts. He was told time and time again that the capital of Bulgaria - Sofia - would be a good place to set himself up. There were gangs there who could make use of his skills, and provided he kept out of trouble and his name out of the local gossip, he would do fine.  And he did. He pretty much became, as he liked to call himself, a consultant. He ...
Post a Comment
Read more