Dear Freddie,

Reverend Phelps:

This is in response to a newspaper article I read on January 7th. Over the past two months, I haven't been able to get any peace about what I read. The story was the account of a demonstration by your family and congregation at the funeral of Sgt. Andrew Wallace. I was outraged. I was shocked. I was offended. I couldn't sleep. I wrote about you on my blog.

But I didn't want to just react. I wanted to take some time. I wanted to think. When I posted on my blog, someone commented and said, "This is about your response to life." That hit me. I wanted to analyze this. I wanted to be careful, and to be honest. I want to respond to you the way I want to respond to life.

Salman Rushdie said, "In order to understand just one life, you have to swallow the whole world." The problem is I don't want to understand you. I want to cry out against you. I don't want to swallow your whole world. I want to vomit you out of mine. But I can't.

The easy answer would be to condemn your actions carte blanche. To make blanket statements about your misinterpretation of scripture. Maybe I could write a scathing open letter, and angrily quote scriptures about love and tolerance, and include insincere prayers for your eternal destiny.

But I don't want to live my life by the easy answers. So here I go. My first blog post about this subject was my reaction. This is my response.

I read about your church-- a church made up mostly of your own family members, according to CNN and the Milwaukee JournalSentinel. I read of your demonstrations at funerals of soldiers, AIDs victims, and celebrities. I read the things you said about the West Virginia mining accident last month, and about the hurricanes Katrina and Rita. I watched the video of your demonstration here in Wisconsin. I read your interviews with websites and journalists. I read what you said about Matthew Shepard, a homosexual who was murdered simply because he was gay. I read about the hate leveled towards you, and your family. I read about the pipe bomb at your daughter's house. I read about your extensive legal battles. I read the letters that people sent your church, and I read the rebuttals.

I'm not going to lie to you. As I was reading, the same emotions kept boiling just beneath the surface. I was angy, offended, nauseated--probably the kind of response you often inspire. And I wanted to explore those emotions. I wanted to wallow in my righteous anger. But I wouldn't be any closer to a real response than when I first heard about you. I would still be reacting. So I took a step back.

I can relate, probably more than most people, to the pipe bomb attack at your daughter's house. I am an Army reservist, and for eleven months, I was deployed with a construction unit to Iraq. The base where I lived was nicknamed "Mortaritaville" because of the amount of mortar and rocket attacks. I am very familiar with explosions. I can still remember what it was like when a 122mm shoulder-launched rocket landed less than 15 feet from me while I was playing volleyball. The force of the impact alone was enough to knock me to my knees, while a wall of sand and gravel washed over me. I can remember the next few minutes--how time slowed down and the shouting and yelling was drowned out by the sound of my heart beating. I can remember feeling myself to ensure that I wasn't bleeding while my eyes frantically searched out my friends to make sure that they were ok. And I can only imagine the reaction that I would have if this had happened at my home.

And I really don't want to get into a debate about theological truth here. I'm not going to argue with you. You use verses to support your position, and so do I. If we really wanted to, we could go back and forth all day, each of us--to varying degrees--pulling text out of context and putting context into the text, quoting and misquoting, all to support our respective views. And at the end of the day, I don't think that either one of us would have convinced the other.

But allow me to state why I disagree with you. I think that you have a warped view of God. You see a God that hates homosexuality, all that practice it, and all that accept it. I see a God that hates all sin. He hates homosexuality and pride. He hates sodomy and contention. You see a God that only loves his few choice people, and I see a God that isn't willing that any should perish. Your God has had enough, and wants to rid His creation of all that tolerate sin, specifically homosexuality. My God loves the prodigal son, even though he spurned Him for so long.

And I think you are demonstrating for the wrong motives. I don't think you are doing this to reach out to these people. I think you want to attack them. And I don't know why that is. I don't know if it is because you feel threatened, or if you really feel that it is the best way to fulfill the Great Commission. I think that you take careful steps to make sure that you are noticed, and that you incite as many people as possible.

But there I go again. Taking the easy way out. Who am I to question your motives? And what about you? Supposedly my God loves everybody, but what do I think about you?

I believe in tolerance. Not because I believe in tolerating sin, but because I believe that I am a sinner. I know that I am horrible and warped and repugnant in God's eyes. And as such, who am I to talk about someone else's sin? I don't have the answers. I haven't attained anything. I am not any closer to meeting God's standards of holiness on my own than anyone else. My only cause for hope is Christ's love.

And honestly, I can't claim that my view of God is perfect. Too often I act like God is a genie or a good luck charm. I don't actually believe that, but that is how I act. And my motives? My whole life has been built on a fruitless quest for validation. What are my motives for writing this letter?

It grieves me that people will associate you with God. That people will harbor bitterness towards all things Christian because of your actions. But what about my actions? My testiomony hasn't always been great. I haven't been a shining example of Christ's love. I know that I have hurt the cause of Christ by my bitterness, or my anger, or my doubt. Who in my life will reject Christ because of me?

Part of me wants to condemn you for the right reasons. I want to show how your philosophies and actions are unbiblical and harmful to the cause of Christ. And part of me wants to hate you for the wrong reasons. Because you are offensive. Because you attack veterans. Because you make yourself dispicable.

I probably won't even send this to you. Because this isn't about you. You have been demonstrating for years, and I doubt whether one more outraged Christian is going to sway you. This is about me. This is about me choosing the right reasons. Knowing that I'm still a sinner, and that I can't make universal statements, but that I can't just sit by and do nothing.

So I am going to do something. I am going to learn from you. I am going to examine my life, and my actions. And I am going to pray.

Sincerely,
Dale Mundt

Filet o' crap value meal - $3.99

Dick Cheney's clay pigeon has been released from the hospital. Mr. Whittington's comment: "My family and I are deeply sorry for everything Vice President Cheney and his family have had to deal with." Yes, it's been a rough week for the Cheneys. After all, Vice President Cheney was shot in the face while hunting quail. Wait...umm....

A man from Alexandria, VA has admitted to calling in a bogus terror threat to the Department of Homeland Security. He claimed that Muslim elders had appointed him to notify authorities that an Iraqi national living in Arlington was "planning to go to California in a couple of weeks and do an attack down there." Actually, the guy he accused was dating his ex-girlfriend. See, isn't that romantic? If you want to win her back, buy some flowers, write a poem, and accuse her new flame of terrorism. Isn't there a Frank Sinatra song that starts out like that?

The state of Washington just released its economic figures from the past year. Number eight on the list of agriculturally profitable crops: marijuana. How exactly do they figure that? It's not like you report that on your tax returns.

Lyric of the undefined length of time: I made Satan sell me his soul.

Dick Cheney shot a man in the face-gate

Ok, I can't help it anymore. I have to post about it.

THE VICE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES SHOT HIS HUNTING PARTNER, A 78 YEAR OLD REPUBLICAN JUDGE, IN THE FACE WITH A SHOTGUN.

No, wait. I'm sorry. He "peppered him pretty good." IN THE FACE WITH A SHOTGUN.

And he didn't even tell anybody about it. Somehow he thought it would be better to wait 24 hours and then have the owner of the ranch leak it to a local newspaper. umm, yeah.

Then, his buddy, WHO HE SHOT IN THE FACE WITH A SHOTGUN, had a heart attack as a result of bird shot traveling into his heart.

But wait, he decided to open up to the public and answer the tough questions. Just kidding. Actually he just went on Fox news. And talked about the importance of accuracy. ACCURACY--YOU JUST SHOW SOME DUDE IN THE FACE WITH A SHOTGUN!!!!!! He also said that it was one of the worst days in his life. OH YEAH? WHAT ABOUT THE GUY YOU SHOT IN THE FACE WITH A SHOTGUN???

I have to admit, I am a little biased. I hate Dick Cheney. I think he is the result of a steamy night of passion between Hitler, Satan, and Madame Guillotine. I really don't like him. So I guess I'm really not surprised that HE SHOT A MAN IN THE FACE WITH A SHOTGUN.

In other issues, I have been thinking about the Danish/Muslim cartoon uproar. And just as I was about to explain what I was thinking, someone said it better. So check out the article here and tell me what you think.

Rasta Josh, may he live forever

Saturday night was Josh's recital. Holy crap. If you weren't there, you suck. It was amazing. He played one of my favorite pieces ever, Mussgorsky's Pictures at an Exibition, among other things. It was incredible.

As well as rocking the house, Josh looked like a total pimp. A tux, with tails, and striped pants. Dead sexy. But nothing could have prepared the audience for the encore. Josh came out wearing the hat that I bought him in Nassau. Yeah, he rocked the rasta hat.

What boggles my mind is how Josh is able to fend off the ladies. Amazing piano skills, mind boggling powers of thought, unmitigatedly pimping outfits... how can any woman not find that intoxicatingly attractive?

After several days of contemplation, I have finally realized why all of the ladies are not throwing themselves at Josh. They have realized that they are not worthy. They cannot match his absurd level of intelligence. That cannot fathom his mystical levels of musical talent. They feel intimidated at the very thought of being asked to interact with such a giant of giftedness.

Therefore, ladies, if someone ever asks you why you have not offered your love, life, and body to the esteemed 4th Ledgerwood progeny, you need only to say, "I am not worthy." That is the only acceptable excuse. No other will suffice. Not even, "I already have a boyfriend and/or husband." Not unless you precede it with, "I am not worthy, besides..."

Seriously, though, I want to take this opportunity to let Josh know how honored I am to be counted as an equal and a friend. I appreciate his honesty, his careful thought, and his unique take on life. Thank you, Josh.

One for the thumb

Mike Holmgren, on the sidelines, playing a chessmatch with the opposing sideline, fighting to win the game in the final moments of the Super Bowl...wait, does he know what down it is? Oh, yeah, I'm sorry, that was a different Super Bowl.

I realize this is my second post today, but it has been a pretty busy week. So much has happened that I want to blog about. First of all, you will notice a new sign of the apocalypse. An Italian politician has promised not to have sex until election day. Ummm, yeah. Also from Italy, an atheist has sued a local priest for stating the existence of Christ as a fact. Read the article here and tell me what you think. It is probably worthy of a full post, but I want to hear your thoughts first.

And the new definition of irony: a president with democratically imperialistic goals, achieves democracy in a struggling Arab nation, only to have them democratically elect radical Muslim terrorists as their leaders. Beautiful.

And, in light of last year's halftime wardrobe malfunction, (see: Nipplegate) Super Bowl and ABC officials decided to have the Rolling Stones perform the halftime show. I think that is because Mick Jagger is so old and ugly, even Justin Timberlake wouldn't try to expose his nipple. But then again, how old is Janet Jackson?

And at long last--Fabio has returned. He was in a commercial during the third quarter. I salute you, oh picture of masculinity.

Congrats, Pittsburg.

Du Hast Meche

I think it would be easier to look at myself in the mirror if God hated me.

I don't listen to music on the radio. Not for any moral reason. I simply think that most of the music played on the radio is crap. It is generally very boring and unimaginative. Cookie cutter songs sang by fluffy little pop stars. I hate it. And generally, when something fresh and unique comes out, I already have been listening to it for 9 months. For example, Fallout Boy, Death Cab for Cutie, the Killers, My Chemical Romance, Hawthorne Heights, Yellowcard, Bowling for Soup, Good Charlotte, Simple Plan... and I could name many more. I had been listening and enjoying them all until they started being played on the radio. Then, they started being overplayed. And everything, absolutely everything is overplayed. If a song is decent, they will play it until the first chord triggers your gag reflex. That is why I depend so much on my iPod. It is my only relief from repetitive, mindless, crappy music.

So imagine my surprise when I heard, on the radio, a song that I hadn't heard before, from a group that I hadn't heard before, that was fresh and unique. My first reaction was embarrassment over the fact that I was slipping. But then I started listening to the song a little closer.

The song is called "Hate Me" and it is by a group called Blue October. The lyrics talk about the singer trying to come to grips with his past relationship. He realizes how horribly he treated her. She was always there, she was always willing to help, and he never appreciated her love. And emotionally, it is tearing him apart. Because he loves her and wants the best for her, but he knows that he has ruined any chance of being able to help her. He will always be the guy that broke her heart. So he says, "... hate me so you can finally see what's good for you..."

This really hit home with me. This song applies to so many of my relationships in the past. And not just with girls--with family, roommates, friends, basically everyone that I have been in contact with. I was emotionally oblivious for so long, and I missed opportunities to help out the people that I cared about. I just went about my life, concerned with my problems, and ignoring all else. I can see now how much I hurt my friends, and I truly wish I could go back and fix the damage I have done. I wish I could undo all of the damage. Erase the emotional complexes that I created. It kills me when I think about it. My ignorance and selfishness have been the cause of so much pain that it makes me echo the request of the singer--hate me. I want them to know that I am sorry and that I care about them, but those are empty words next to the actions of my past. I want them to be doing ok, but I am afraid that trying to go back and make amends will just make it worse. So I just hope they have closure. I hope they have peace. And if it means they need to hate me, so be it.

But then, a voice in the back of my head told me to think about God. How much have we hurt Him? He sent his Son to us, and what did we do? What about all of those times that we have sinned? Each and every time we sin we are breaking God's heart. After all He has done for us, we spit on the sacrifice of Christ because of our own selfishness. What right do we have to expect God to love us? How can we thoughtlessly accept God's love? Why would he love us? To think that God still loves me despite all of the things that I have done--how can I ever accept that? How can I live with myself knowing that God loves me so much, and I have lived oblivious to His love? All of the things that He has done for me, all of His love, and what have I been able to give Him in return?

This isn't necessarily a post about theological truth. This is a post about an emotional epiphany. I have heard about this my whole life, but it never really hit home. And I don't think it has totally hit me yet. It has only started. This wave of emotion comes every time I start thinking about it. It is like the feeling with my friends, but not fully developed yet. This might not make sense to all of you. I don't know if I can explain emotions to those of you who have never really felt. It took a lot for me to learn to feel emotions. Maybe some of you haven't gotten there yet. I don't know. But I do know that I am only beginning to see God's love for me. And that I am only beginning to nourish my love for Him.