Children of Peace

Keeping God at a Distance: Missing Poverty? Missing God?

2011-04-02T10:30:00.001-05:00

-Ryan Fasani & Eric Paul

In the last five installments, we have affirmed that “the mission of the church in the world is to continue the redemptive work of Christ in the power of the Spirit” (Manual, Article 11). Jesus’ ministry—his redemptive work on earth—was the proclamation of the year of the Lord’s favor, the Jubilee, the Kingdom of God, the Good News to the poor (Luke 4). Good News to the poor, we think, is to not be poor, and the Jubilee was largely an economic leveling between community members. Christ’s redemption is preoccupied with poverty. Consequently, the church as the body of Christ (1 Cor. 12), continuing the redemption of the world, is also preoccupied with poverty—proclaiming the Good News to those that suffer from poverty, the poor.

We understand, however, that we have unfairly left unexplained what it is we mean by poverty. To assert that God is a God of the poor without making some strides toward at least a working definition of poverty weakens our project. Perhaps the following assessment of poverty should have been the first piece. In part because it informs our reference of poverty throughout the series, but more importantly, because in the church’s diagnosis of poverty lies the biggest potential for missing the God of the poor. If God’s redemptive work in the world truly liberates people from that which enslaves, then the church must ask whether we have placed ourselves physically as a body working toward human freedom or “distanced” ourselves from God’s work. While this last section in the series explores further how we miss God by misunderstanding poverty, it leads us into the next step in our journey: a definitional series exploring the nature, causes, and interconnectedness of poverty as well as the church’s habit of largely misperceiving it.

Should the church have a chance at being Christ’s body in the world, should we have a chance at being God’s agents of redemption, then it is without option that we know from what people need to be “bought back” (redimere, the Latin root for redemption). Namely, the church must understand poverty, as poverty holds ransom the poor from living life fully in God (Matt. 20:28; John 10:10). To understand poverty is to recognize and comprehend it (diagnosis) and respond effectively (prescription).

An untrained eye sees poverty as deficit, a lack of things. In this view, income is the largest determinate of poverty—one is poor if one has a deficiency in buying power. A broader definition might include non-material deficiencies like education and political knowledge. Christians have sensitivity to the immediate limitations of these definitions and will add to them a spiritual deficit. All these definitions, though different, assume that if the poor receive what they do not have, for instance, money, water, education, and a working knowledge of the bible, then they will cease to be poor. If the diagnosis of poverty is the absence of things, the prescription is to acquire those things. It comes as no surprise, then, that many Christian ministries to the poor are “gift drops.” When one lacks, Christians should give.

Economic development professionals have discovered that poverty is far more complex than the simple experience of deficiencies. A glance at three— Jayakumar Christian, John Friedman, and Bryant Myers—will not enable us to develop an alternative definition of poverty, as that would require a more lengthy assessment of their work. Instead, all three development professionals will lend a hand in us suggesting that poverty is and therefore the church’s response must be far more complex and nuanced.

Christian, in his PhD thesis, Powerless of the Poor: Toward an Alternative Kingdom of God Based Paradigm of Response, explains that poverty is the experience of living in power-stealing systems. These systems that disempower individuals are social and personal. For instance, personal systems that steal power from the individual are physical (weakened body and mind), personal (inaccurate identity), and religious (deceiving spiritualities). Social systems that can disempower include one’s culture (ideology) and social place (relationships to others, especially the non-poor). These systems complexly interact and influence each other, further reinforcing the experience of powerlessness—poverty. Poverty is essentially being caught in disempowering systems.

John Friedman, in Empowerment: The Politics of Alternative Development, contests that if poverty is the experience of deficit, then the deficit is a lack of power in rather stationary and overlapping domains. This creates a layered and nuanced experience of power or its lack—a layered experience of poverty. Different types of power arise from these overlapping domains (e.g. power arises through party affiliation in the overlap of the political domain and the economic domain). The poor have a particularly difficult time engaging these domains—economy, civil society, politics, and state—precisely because of the pressures on them as ones impoverished. The poor do not have the organizational resource, political influence, or judicial access to realize a different future. Poverty is essentially disconnection from the power found in social organization and political representation.

Bryant Myers, in his Walking with the Poor: Principles and Practices of Transformational Development, attempts to build on Christian and Friedman’s analysis by explicitly utilizing the biblical story as guidance. Myers largely agrees with the aforementioned analyses but diagnoses a more fundamental commonality between all that are poor: poverty is the result of broken and unhealthy relationships to self, God, others, the environment, and one’s community. Poverty is at its core a spiritual brokenness, but not in a way that deems other components subordinate. Instead, Myers uses a theological understanding of sin to assess the spiritual nature of individual (relationship to oneself) and systemic (relationship to other individuals, the community at large, and natural resources) causes of poverty.

As Christian, Friedman, and Myers suggest, poverty is a complex experience, and it’s simply inaccurate to diagnosis it as the experience of basic deficit. If the disease is complex, the diagnosis, then, must be complex and sophisticated. And if the diagnosis is complex—and the church is to be faithful to its call to redeem the impoverished—the prescription (ministry to the poor) must be at the very least complexly appropriate to the need. What might this suggest about our clothing collections, food drives, and hygiene kits? What about our clothing closets, our free hot meals, or our Christmas toy collections?

We’re afraid to say it, but we must: our churches do not understand poverty—certainly not its complexities. We know our poor neighbors need Jesus, but we are unaware, for instance, that they may be trapped in a system of disempowerment largely bequeathed to them by generations of broken social relationships, reinforced by marred personal identity and cultural stereotypes, and augmented by untreated physical disease. Being Christ’s body in the presence of such experience—being near to God in the poor (Matt. 25) and being God to the poor (Luke 4)—necessitates far more than warm clothes in the winter or extra toys at Christmas. By missing the diagnosis of poverty, the church is missing its role in redemption. By missing poverty have we missed God altogether?

Keeping God at a Distance: Why Sanctified Believers should listen to Hip-Hop

2011-03-09T10:34:00.001-06:00

(This was written a while ago and I somehow forgot to post it).
Ryan Fasani and Eric Paul-

[Entire Sanctification] is wrought by the baptism with the Holy Spirit, and comprehends in one experience the cleansing of the heart from sin and the abiding, indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit, empowering the believer for life and service. - Article of Faith, Entire Sanctification as found in the Nazarene Manual

I (Ryan) am particularly interested in the “power” sanctified believers receive from the Holy Spirit. I recently read about the obliteration of mountaintops in the South East for the extraction of coal. That’s power! From the dynamite, to the massive trucks, to sheer mass of earth that is relocated—it’s all the result of power. But power is used for good or for ill; it is wielded by an agent to an end—to detonate, to destroy, to heal, or to build. The sanctified believer is empowered by the baptism of the Holy Spirit. But this empowerment personifies the love and grace of the Spirit of Christ, rather than the power of domination, oppression, and violence. The power imbued from the Spirit through sanctification works through human agents as participants in the coming Kingdom of God, which stands against the principalities and powers of this world. Thus, the power given by the Spirit is situated toward an end. Stated in a question: “To what end is a sanctified believer sanctified?”

We think that sanctification ought to teach us how to give up certain vestiges of power in order to put on the full righteousness (a word synonymous with justice in the Hebrew Scriptures) of God’s power. To better understand this process, we will critique the traditional process and progression of sanctification through the lens of Hip-Hop. Hip-Hop music has traditionally given expression and voice to the black experience of growing up in a racially charged, poverty-stricken society. We believe these voices are necessary to inform the merger between our material lives and spirituality, so that the two are indistinguishable.

Entire sanctification “comprehends in one experience the cleansing of the heart from sin and the abiding, indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit, empowering the believer for life and service.” Sanctification is for (to the end of) life and service. The “holiness chronology” of a believer begins with regeneration then sanctification then glorification; these are distinct works of grace by the Holy Spirit.

Sanctification is “wrought by the baptism of the Holy Spirit,” but its purpose “to [empower] believers for life and service” is undeniably material. We’re sanctified at an altar, during worship, which are spiritual activities; we live life in our homes, at school, when we eat, which are material, bodily activities. Between the experience of entire sanctification and the experience of its practical import—“for life and service”—lays a wide chasm, one quite difficult to traverse.

Our (Nazarenes) concept of sanctification presupposes a widely accepted dichotomy: a wide chasm between the spiritual (experience of sanctification) and the material (result of being sanctified). From this dichotomy, pragmatic (and theological) tension emerges. Ministerial practitioners labor to find new and creative ways to encourage disciples to move from the altar to the world, from the sanctuary to culture, from sanctification to service. Service projects, mission trips, random acts of kindness, church grill-outs, shut-in visits: these are a few pragmatic catalysts to encourage the power inherent in sanctification to, well, do something!

There is a problem before us, though. Service is not the end (completion) of sanctification; rather, it’s the ends by which the means of the ever-renewing power of the Holy Spirit manifest itself in the ongoing life of the believer. In other words, the altar isn’t the only place the Spirit works to sanctify, nor is the act of serving the material conclusion of the Spirit’s work. There is a tension that emerges from our understanding of sanctification because no chasm should exist between the sanctifying baptism of the Spirit and service. Service is not the result, as if to finish it, but it’s a constitutive part of the perfected love of a disciple. This is why sanctification is “for life and service” (italics added), because life is where the “spirituality” of sanctification and the “materiality” of service meet. But also, life is not static. Sanctification is not a static state of power (as though such a thing exists), but it is daily moving toward the end of service in context—where and when a believer is. Entire sanctification is the bodily bent of believers toward serving others as fully devoted followers of Christ (Matt. 5:1-7:29).

For some, we are flirting with heresy; for others, this understanding of sanctification is affirming and perhaps refreshing. But to all of us who are privileged (likely everyone reading this article), we run the risk of never experiencing this sanctification. With our understanding of sanctification as an “act of God” separate from our material lives, our historical lives become of secondary importance. What happened before sanctification is a backdrop to the importance of our spiritual sanctity, and only then, the life and service that is to follow receives attention.

But isolating a spiritual experience like that of sanctification is a discipline of the privileged, which from a position of security and power posit a “holiness chronology.” In other words, those not fearing actual death isolate sanctification from lived experience. Because (historical, material) life is where sanctification and service meet, it is a necessary component of both. As Jon Sobrino states, “The intuition that has gradually forced itself upon our perceptions is that without historical, real life there can be no such thing as spiritual life” (Spirituality and Liberation, 4).

Privilege provides us power in a way that isolates spiritual experience, but the poor and oppressed remind us that life itself—and not just sanctification—is a powerful act of God. We exert our power over our poor neighbors, in its most benign shape, as a form of isolation. Rather than being empowered by the Spirit to love we tend to further entrench ourselves from the poor, and hence from the God that stands with and for the poor of the earth. This is why Jon Sobrino contends that some histories need to be opposed, namely the ones that serve their own power: “Christian holiness is nothing more nor less than likeness to Jesus, [which can be] in opposition to historical realities, in opposition to objective sin” (Spirituality and Liberation, 128-9). The impoverished majority have historical realities of oppression—powerlessness. Is our sanctification in jeopardy as we exert our power as distance between ourselves and the immanence of God with the poor?

We (the privileged) need the poor, not to receive our service, which ostensibly validates our sanctification; rather we need the poor because the poor teach us that a sanctified life requires a) access to actual life, and b) that we oppose oppressive histories. “Poverty is something more than material. Life is at stake—the life of my neighbor… the feeble, debilitated bodies of the poor [give] us access to the material world from within a spiritual perspective” (Spirituality and Liberation, 55). We need the poor because in the struggle for life, the poor collapse the chasm between the “spiritual” and “material,” which indicts our privilege (distance from them) and demands our power to be used to the end of opposing oppression (service).

My (Ryan) experience is that Hip-Hop music is a forum well suited to teach us this. Artists in this genre both expose the culprits of oppression and acknowledge that life is at once historical (material) and spiritual. Let us consider two songs, one that I recently heard playing on the radio and the other a faint memory from the 90’s. I will provide a sampling of the lyrics and then a brief comment on their importance to sanctified believers. (Disclaimer: we do not necessarily hold the same opinions as these artists, nor do we condone the use of profane and derogatory language that the following artists use. As we engage in the world in which we live, however, such songs as these express the culture, environment and setting in which the Gospel of Jesus Christ is lived out. The mission of the Center is to step into the brokenness of our world, which is brought to life through the following lyrics, to bring healing, justice and reconciliation from a loving and merciful God.)

“Soul Survivor,” by Young Jeezy (Featuring Akon)

Chorus:

If you lookin’ for me I’ll be on the block
With my thang cocked possibly sittin’ on a drop, now
‘Cause, I’m a rida, yeah
Yea I’ma soul survivor, yeah

‘Cause everybody know the game don’t stop
Tryin’ to make it to the top for you’re a*** get popped now
If you a rida, yeah
Yea I’ma soul survivor, yeah

Verse:

We let the doves do it for us
We don’t cry tears, that’s right
Real ****** don’t budge
When mail man got his time
He shot birds at the judge, yeah

I’m knee deep in the game
So when it’s time to re-up
I’m knee deep in the cane, ****
Real talk, look, I’m tellin’ you Mayne

If you get jammed up don’t mention my name, no
Forgive me Lord, I know I ain’t livin’ right
Gotta feed the block
****** starvin’, they got appetites, ayy

And this is everyday, it never gets old
Thought I was a juvenile stuck to the G-code
This ain’t a rap song, ***** this is my life
And if the hood was a battlefield then I earned stripes, yeah

Young Jeezy and Akon, in this song, assert what many have claimed before them: Hip-Hop is the lyrical outlet for a suffering generation of black Americans. The young, black, urban American experience is like war. Not unlike the lives of many young Americans, these men experience the spectrum of human emotions: anger, sadness, angst, pride. But for these men, the “hood” is where one fears for their life, where “cocked” guns are the norm, where survival is a complex milieu of hunger (“gotta feed the block”), violence (“with my thang cocked”), incarceration (“when mail man got his time”), macho-ism (“real ***** don’t budge), and drug dealing (“when it’s time to re-up”).

Strikingly, Young Jeezy and Akon don’t understand themselves as only surviving, as if surviving is the perpetuity of physical life. Instead, they are soul survivors; their struggle to stay alive is quite literally a “physio-spiritual” challenge. The conflation of “soul” and “survivor,” as self-identity (“I’m a soul survivor”) and as survival strategy (“letting the doves do it for us”), is a profound theological statement: the suffering of God’s children is at once a material and spiritual reality (Exodus 3:7). Consider the next song.

“Still I Rise” by 2Pac.

Dear Lord

As we down here, struggle for as long as we know
In search of a paradise to touch (my ***** Johnny J)
Dreams are dreams, and reality seems to be the only place to go
The only place for us
I know, try to make the best of bad situations
Seems to be my life’s story
Ain’t no glory in pain, a soldier’s story in vain
And can’t nobody live this life for me
It’s a ride y’all, a long hard ride

….

Pistol in my hand, this cruel world can do without me
How can I survive? Got me askin white Jesus
will a ***** live or die, cause the Lord can’t see us
in the deep dark clouds of the projects, ain’t no sunshine
No sunny days and we only playED sometimes
When everybody’s sleepin
I open my window jump to the streets and get to creepin
I can live or die, hope I get some money ‘fore I’m gone
I’m only 19, I’m tryin to hustle on my own
on the spot where everybody and they pops tryin to slang rocks
I’d rather go to college, but this is where the game stops
Don’t get it wrong cause it’s always on, from dusk to dawn
You can buy rocks glocks or a HEROINBONG
You can ask my man Ishmael Reed
Keep my nine heateR all the time this is how we grind
Meet up at the cemetary then get smoked out, pass the weed *****
That Hennessey’ll keep me keyed *****
Everywhere I go ****** holla at me, “Keep it real G”
And my reply tilL they kill me
Act up if you feel me, I was born not to make it but I did
The tribulations of a ghetto kid, still I rise

Here, again, we read (hear) many of the same cathartic language. 2Pac is in a war of survival, violently fending off enemies, wielding lethal weapons, and trying to meet his basic physical needs. This song more so emphasizes the role of illegal substances in the plight of young black men’s lives. The imagery suggests that the drugs and violence create such “deep dark clouds of the projects” that one has no vision of a different future, hopeless. The “ghetto” context is so oppressive and dark that the eyes of God are even without focus (“Lord can’t see us”), nor can the luminous power of sun penetrate the cloud of death (“ain’t no sunshine/no sunny days”).

But even in this hell-on-earth experience, where death is a better option than living (“this cruel world could do without me”) and he’s destined to fail (“I was born not to make it”), 2Pac’s material reality is shot through with the presence of God. 2Pac is isolated and likely depressed (“can’t nobody live this life for me”) but it’s the immanence of the divine that enables 2Pac to succeed (“still I rise”). This is most explicitly affirmed in the opening prayer. The struggle for life (“try to make the best of a bad situation / …a long hard ride”) begins by acknowledging that resistance of oppressive realities is beyond the material and finite work of human hands; God is necessary and therefore invoked (“Dear Lord / As we down here, struggle for as long as we know”). In 2Pac’s suffering the spiritual is physical and vice versa (“I search of a paradise to touch”).

It has become clear from these songs the struggle for life is a sanctified struggle because the power of the Holy Spirit is manifest in concrete historical realities—the manifest realities of daily bread and daily safety. There is no chasm between the spiritual and the physical. The “physical” is “spiritual” and yet it’s not promised; all power that is wielded is given by the Holy Spirit. Therefore, survival in the face of death is an act of God.

Hip-Hop and by extension the historical realities of the poor in urban America teach us that “it is impossible to live with spirit, unless that spirit becomes flesh” (Spirituality and Liberation, 4). Sanctification cannot be a spiritual “act of God” that ramifies in our subsequent material lives, as this denies that life and service are not “follow-ups” to sanctification but are constitutive parts of a life perfected in (the very acts of) love. Sanctification is “perfect love,” which is to say, the power of the Spirit in flesh—incarnational.

We need the message of our Hip-Hop brothers and sisters because they help us know to what end the sanctified believer is empowered. We’re empowered to be participants in the work of a new creation in which poverty and oppression do not exist. Therefore, we’re empowered now to live on behalf of the poor in the belief and hope of the resurrection—“Still I Rise.” To serve and live for the poor is to experience the power of the Spirit in sanctification. Serving the poor and therefore affirming the struggle for survival is non-negotiable, lest we not experience sanctification—God’s fullness of blessing (Romans 15:29).

Keeping God at a Distance: Poverty and Grace

2011-01-25T16:58:00.000-06:00

“Inscribed on the very heart of God’s grace is the rule that we can be its recipients only if we do not resist being made into its agents; what happens to us must be done by us.”

-Miroslav Volf

Every year at Christmas, my (Eric) Mom and Dad would pick up gifts for children through the Angel Tree Program at our church. I remember pouring over the lists of possible gifts we could buy, and I was always thankful that I was a part of a family that was giving beyond our familial boundaries. I assume that for many of us Christmas is a time that we give more; we recognize our abundance and want to share it with others, even if only for a short season.

After all, Christmas is the season of giving. As Christians, we recognize God’s gift of Christ for the world, “who did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness” (Phil. 2:6-7). In this same passage, Paul admonishes us to then have the same attitude of Christ. As Christ is in the world, so ought we be in the world—servants. And so, gift giving has become a ritual that recognizes God’s gift of God’s self on behalf of the world’s brokenness. Christ is the gift of grace for us.

Over the past few weeks, I (Eric) listened to some friends talk about their recent experience with giving through the Salvation Army. Each year, the Salvation Army compiles a list of families who cannot afford giving gifts to their children and distributes this list to churches and organizations willing to help. These friends “adopted” one of the families and picked up everything off the list. A few days after the gifts were distributed, they received a phone call from the Salvation Army coordinator inquiring about the gifts that were given. Apparently, the family who had received the gifts called to complain that there were not enough presents, didn’t like the ones given, and was left unsatisfied.

The news hit pretty hard. They wondered whether they left something out, whether it was their fault. Then incredulity hit. How could this family have the nerve to call and say that the gifts were inadequate? How ungrateful! How rude! How self-entitled! Then one of my friends said, “The worst part is that this family just stripped me from the joy of giving. I no longer have that good feeling.”

I think we can sympathize with this position. Anyone who has worked for any amount of time with a social organization trying to combat poverty has come face to face with an array of responses, from sincere gratitude to outright rejection. Sometimes grace is received and sometimes it is even rejected.

Yet, how do we respond to grace rejected? What happens when the gifts of time, money, and friendship are trampled underfoot? Is our response to no longer offer our love and grace? Sometimes we think that if they cannot accept what we have to offer then it is better not to offer it. We would rather give to those who are willing to accept it, we reason with ourselves. In this scheme, though, our level of “charity” is in direct proportion to their level of “work.” Do they deserve these gifts? In this way, grace is no longer grace.

We ought to have the same attitude as that of Christ Jesus.

John, in opening his gospel narrative, explains the incarnation in terms of giving and receiving. “He came to that which was his own and his own did not receive him” (John 1:11). It feels like an echo directly from the Prophets in the Hebrew Scriptures in which The Lord tells Samuel that God alone has been rejected by the people (1 Samuel 8). This rejection of God’s gift culminates in the ultimate rejection: death on a cross. Miroslav Volf writes of this moment, “When God sets out to embrace the enemy, the result is the cross. On the cross the dancing circle of self-giving and mutually in-dwelling divine persons opens up for the enemy…We, the others—we the enemies—are embraced by the divine persons who love us with the same love with which” the divine persons love one another in communion (Exclusion and Embrace, 129).

The story of scripture is the story of a rejected Deity who refuses to be rejected. Grace is given despite the receiver’s response; God’s very nature is to continue showing grace and forgiveness. Like the Father of the Prodigal Son, God anticipates the return of the lost son, keeping a watchful eye on the distant horizon. Likewise, grace can be the only truly Christian response to the rejection of grace, just as Christ-the-Servant gave all the way to the cross.

There is a temptation here: that we would believe we have a “thing”—food, clothing, shelter, but namely, grace—like a present, which we must continue to give, even in the face of rejection. But that “thing” is not a thing at all, as if we have what the poor need, a commodity for giving. Christ was full (John 1:14), not because he was in possession of a “thing” called grace and therefore different than those in need, but that he could also be emptied (Phil. 2:7) and enveloped with humanity in the movement of God’s love. “Inscribed on the very heart of God’s grace is the rule that we can be its recipients only if we do not resist being made into its agents” (Exclusion and Embrace, 129). We are not only the recipients of grace alongside the poor but we must continue being the extension of God’s first act of love. We are not the handlers of a gift but agents within a Divine drama of love in the face of rejection. In this way, agents who find themselves within the body of Christ give of themselves in such a way that creates space for receiving all into the life of love.

In such a drama—hopefully one that comes into focus during the Christmas season of giving—the lines of social and economic division dissipate and friendship and communion can be restored. But when the drama is reduced to the exchange of gifts, division re-emerges; when God’s grace is owned and its recipients are not transformed into agents, communion is severed (“This family just stripped me from the joy of giving”). And when the rejection of grace is reciprocated with resentment; God’s drama of servant-love found in Christ Jesus is distant. Alternatively, when grace upon grace is given despite circumstance, the community of believers begin to understand that when needs are met we are all blessed together.

Pantocrator

2010-11-23T15:14:00.000-06:00

In human terms death is the last thing of all, and in human terms hope exists only so long as their life;
But to Christian eyes death is by no means the last thing of all,
Just another minor event in that which is all, an eternal life.
Soren Kierkegaard

There are precious few moments when head and heart collide- when one is fully immersed in the present so infinitely that the cosmic dance takes place on dirt. And to put words to such a moment is even more remote. Yet we try with our heads bowed and our hearts open to find ourselves fully immersed in God’s future as we take the celebratory march to get drunk on blood.
The grapes are ripe this time of year. If not picked this morning, they were yesterday. It’s my first afternoon in Jerusalem, and I’m walking through the Old City, getting lost only to find where I am. Shops on either side of the road, I brush shoulders with Jews, Christians, and Muslims. The sun already burning on my neck, I look around to catch landmarks for the return trip to my hostel. Via Dolorosa. MFA1 Assault Rifle.
The sign marking the Way of Suffering juxtaposed revoltingly with the two Israeli soldiers standing directly underneath. They couldn’t be any more than nineteen, just boys with the responsibility of life and death. A child no more than six passed with a plastic gun, pointing it at random people and pretending to shoot. But for these soldiers, playtime had ended. The guns were real and the bullets pierced flesh. I’m not used to guns. I see them back home on police officers, but even in the patron state of shootin’ stuff, you don’t see assault rifles casually slung over shoulders. It would become a sight I would abhorrently become used to over the next few weeks. A few times pointed in my direction.
I continued through the stone alleyways, noting the difference in architecture as the city was built and rebuilt through the centuries. Up ahead, what looks like a short walk is the Mount of Olives rising over East and West Jerusalem, the cemetery quietly passing judgment as its inhabitants await the Messiah. My group passes Mary’s tomb, and walk into the Garden of Gethsemane. The olive trees, centuries old twist and contort toward the sky, providing shade and food for any who whish to lay underneath. How beautiful a picture to think about each having their own tree. This is supposedly the place where Jesus prayed such a prayer on the night he was betrayed, arrested, nailed to a tree.

Betrayal. Deception. Violence- these are the reasons some have more trees than others.

The walk up the hill is steep. Passing Christian landmarks on either side, we pass Dominus Flevit- a small Franciscan chapel shaped as a tear drop. Overlooking the city, one sees the Wailing Wall to the left and to the right the Dome of the Rock penetrating the skyline.

Jerusalem, Jerusalem, you who kill the prophets and stone those sent to you, how often I have longed to gather your children together, as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, but you were not willing! Look your house is left to you desolate.

Grief and lament give way to tears and sacrifice. The death meant to expose the ridiculousness of violence- killing the innocent One- has given way to even more desolation. Here, where the land seems to drink an endless amount of blood and tears, the Via Dolorosa remains the status quo. Jesus continues the slow march through the city, walks the hills surrounding the City of David, through the streets of Hebron, and the along the borders of Gaza. We find him in the homes of Jewish parents who have received their sons and daughters in bloody pieces, and we find him in the bedroom of the traumatized Palestinian boy whose father ‘disappeared.’

His back scourged by the onslaught of US made missiles, he begs for us to follow. Such foolishness. Such stupidity. Only death awaits those who follow the insane man from Nazareth. Who, in this world, refuses self-defense? Who, in this world, chooses the irrationality of love over the concreteness of a bullet? Who can have faith in the absurd thought of peace?

This is my body broken for you. This is my blood poured out for you. My body and blood show a new way of living in this world. Just as you have received forgiveness, so forgive one another. Love your enemies, and pray for those that persecute you. It will not be easy, as they persecute me so shall they persecute you. But do not lose hope for I will return to you. And there will be a new heaven and a new earth- behold, even now I make all things new!

Maranatha.

Keeping God at a Distance: Turning Into Christ and Toward the Poor

2010-11-10T08:24:00.000-06:00

Ryan Fasani and Eric Paul-

Repent, for the Kingdom of God is near.

“Now I’m a church going woman, but we have a problem here in Antioch, and it’s the homeless. I work in a service station and these people steal ice…Nashville has a bad reputation for being soft on the homeless. This community is in danger. We don’t want them here.” I (Eric) sat and listened to her demonize God’s children, responding to her new homeless neighbors more in anger and fear than thoughtfulness and love. This woman spoke in one breath of her Christian faith and in the other breath her dissatisfaction toward the temporary relocation of Tent City.

Tent City, under the Hermitage Avenue Bridge, was the home to nearly 150 homeless neighbors until The Flood in May of this year. With most of their assets awash in the rising Cumberland, many found shelter with the Red Cross at Lipscomb University. But emergency shelter is only temporary, and in just a week, these homeless brothers and sisters relocated—this time to a privately owned field in Antioch leased to them by the owner.

A Town Hall Meeting was called to address this ‘problem’ that had now invaded Antioch. A cacophony of voices formed a unified front against those who had nowhere else to go. The same phrase repeated throughout the night: “We love the homeless, but…” We can all finish the sentence, because we all feel the tension. If we’re honest, our Christian faith and our actions toward those that are without home are at odds.

We believe in the value of all of God’s children (Psalm 139:14), but when we pass a man or woman on the street, we pretend they are not there. We believe that status and prestige are turned over in Jesus’ ministry (Luke 14:12-13), but when we sit by them on the bus we turn our noses. We believe scripture calls us to model God’s hospitality (Rom 12:10-13), but when they approach our churches we lock the doors for fear that they might steal, or worse, unsettle our public image.

I (Eric) once met with a pastor of a downtown church who told me that they lock the doors on a Sunday morning because the homeless make the worshippers nervous. What makes these people such a threat? Sometimes I think the church needs a third work of grace, another conversion.

Mark’s Gospel begins with John the Baptist preaching a message of repentance, a call for conversion. Jesus then proclaims this same message once John is in prison (Mark 1:15). To repent, literally means a slow turn. It is not a coincidence then that John’s message came with a call for baptism. Baptism, as the church carries the tradition, is the ritual that dramatizes one’s turning away from the powers and systems that bring death and turning toward new life and hope in Christ’s resurrection (Romans 6). In the early church, this was literally demonstrated when the catechumen (an individual being baptized or confirmed) would turn from facing the West to the East, in anticipation of Christ’s return. After baptism, the catechumen would then join the fellowship of believers for worship in Holy Communion. The whole process narrates a turn (conversion) from isolation toward fellowship in the body of Christ.

In other words, baptism turns us toward and ties us to one another and to Christ. To be converted to Christ also means that we are converted to one another. John puts it this way, “Since God so loved us, so we ought to love one another” (1 John 4:15). Baptism, then, in the words of NT Wright, “is more than merely an image of unity-in-diversity; it’s a way of saying the church is called to do the work of Christ, to be the means of his action in the world.” Baptism teaches that to be Christian is not to think one is Christian. It is not a cognitive assent to predetermined doctrine. To be Christian is to be grafted into the practices that form one as a Christian.

But, what happens when the church neglects certain people based on economic status? It appears that the church as Christ’s body and our actions toward the poor are at odds. In short, we don’t embody Christ well in the world. “The church loves the homeless, but…” The church is in need of a slow turn from practices that are destructive and toward ones that serve life.

If our presupposition from earlier articles stands—namely, that God’s actions in the world generate the mission of the church—neglect of the poor is incongruent with God’s revelation. This is a clear accusation of our unfaithfulness. The church, then, must always be repenting. As we encounter those with little means and without permanent residence, we must perpetually repent of our neglect in loving them well, and turn toward a more hospitable future, God’s future as open to all people.

This type of turning is difficult. We don’t like to be confronted with the reality of poverty. Like the woman in Antioch, we just don’t want to have to deal with it. “We love the homeless, but…”

So we give five dollars to assuage our guilt. But, giving is not necessarily turning. Giving in the form of charity too easily becomes a device to avoid our baptismal call out of isolation and into fellowship. Charity keeps the poor at a distance. In this way, the poor have taught us that the church has not learned how to love as Christ has loved. The poor have become for the church a perpetual reminder of our inability to be a faithful, baptized people—to be God’s presence in the world. In the meantime, we are missing out of the gift of grace that can be found through true relationship with these loved ones. Perhaps the church is due for a conversion.

Keeping God at a Distance: Taking Seriously (Our 'Un-Belief of) Matthew 25

2010-10-20T09:57:00.000-05:00

Ryan Fasani and Eric Paul-

‘For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.’ Then the righteous will answer him, saying, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink? And when did we see you a stranger and welcome you, or naked and clothe you? And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ And the King will answer them, ‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you did it to me.’ -Matthew 25:34-40 (ESV)

Let me just say it: Christians don’t like Matthew 25. And as the scriptures Christians don’t like go, so goes Matthew 25. It is relegated to the catalogue of biblical obscurity, and ultimately pushed right out of many Christians’ mental back doors, never to be heard again in bible study or from the pulpit. In other words, Christians systematically “un-believe” it. The result is a tragedy—a tragedy we need to take seriously if we are to live faithfully in urban America.

We (the authors) think Matthew 25 is actually quite clear. Given the array of possible interpretations of, say, the beast rising out of the sea with ten horns and seven heads in Revelation 13, or the “woes” to the rich, the well fed, the laughers, and those spoken well of in Luke 6, Matthew 25 only has two possible interpretations. The first possibility: serving food to the hungry, drink to the thirsty, being hospitable to the stranger, clothing the naked, and caring for the sick is just like (similar to) serving Jesus. The second possibility: serving those in need and being with the suffering is actually (literally) serving Jesus.

My (Ryan) mom ran a “tight ship” when I was young. She had to; she was juggling five boys, no girls. We didn’t have a lot of rules, but the ones we did have were non-negotiable. The one that comes to mind is that despite where we were or who we were with, if an adult was present, they deserved our unwavering respect. This meant we annunciated our Pleases and Thank Yous, we made eye contact when we were spoken to, and we listened and obeyed immediately. She required that we show the same respect to other adults as we did her. I remember when mom would drop us off at friends’ houses, her farewell injunction was, “Behave just as you would if I were there.” My friends’ parents were astonished by our manners. Of course they were; we were behaving as if we were at home, as if mom was calling us in for supper, just like mom was asking us to take a shower.

There are many opinions on the technicalities of translating Matthew 25:40 from the Greek. Every English translation does it differently. It seems to be something like a simile, with an “as” or “like.” Should we emphasize this verse of the passage—treating the hurting and disenfranchised just like or as if they are Jesus—the implicit injunction is something like this: “Behave just as you would if I, Jesus, were there.” There is, however, consensus on the preceding verses (35ff). Jesus says quite clearly, “I was hungry, thirsty, naked, and in prison.” If Christians fight back the inclination to avoid the obvious because it’s difficult, Christians are forced to understand that the poor, oppressed, and hurting are actually Jesus. Consequently, the implicit injunction is more piercing: “Show compassion to ones that bear pain because it is my pain!”

Either the poor and suffering of the world are to be treated like Jesus because it is as if he is there, or they are to be treated like Jesus because he is there. Is the moral upshot different? In other words, does it change how we treat, engage, serve, or advocate for the suffering whether we understand our hurting neighbor to be like Jesus or actually to be Jesus? The Church of the Nazarene’s Manual implies that the previous questions elicit inadequate answers—ethical technicalities according to hypothetical scenarios. Instead, the Manual suggests that a better question is: How do I make the plight of the poor and the suffering of sick my own? Because God is empathetic (in-suffering) with those that suffer, Christians should do likewise, “identify[ing] with and [entering] into solidarity with the poor and not simply to offer charity from a position of comfort” (Appendix 903.4). Whether it is like Jesus is there or Jesus actually is there, Jesus takes on the pain of those suffering by entering into it. Christians too should enter this pain and share it with our neighbor, fighting for its resolution.

My (Ryan) mom taught me good manners, but in terms of teaching me Christian compassion (to suffering with), her stern rules and persistent injunctions reinforced our tendency to keep God at a distance. To her credit, it’s difficult to teach the value of compassionate solidarity. But as Christian disciples, difficulty does not relieve necessity. We believe that God identifies with those that suffer. Just as God moved into the plight of human existence, God continues right on past the gated community and pricey restaurants, Victorian homes and office buildings, and associates (identifies) with those struggling to make it (perhaps those in the subsidized housing “projects”). This is not just an injunction on how to behave (as if God is around) but where to be (where God is)! It’s a matter of location—emotional presence and physical proximity. Matthew 25 is a call to Christians to move themselves into the lives of those hurting in our communities; not a call simply to act polite as if God is watching over our shoulders, but to act with a God who is already there in solidarity.

The Manual calls this life of solidarity a “struggle.” And it is! We (Christians) want to do without this “essential aspect” of Christian discipleship because life is easier (Appendix 903.4). We’ve systematically purged ourselves and our worshipping communities of the truth that God is with and for the poor. But the clear absence of this struggle has wounded our church; we’ve been forced to suture this gaping wound by moving emotionally and physically further and further from any semblance of poverty. Charitable giving (i.e. sending money from afar) has become our mode of service, and unfortunately, we now experience the worst of tragedies: God is distant.

We don’t like Matthew 25. We pose questions about it in an effort to convince ourselves of its obscurity. Is Jesus psychologically or mystically present in the person suffering? Does Jesus understand them, is he with them, or is he in them? Meanwhile, God has hung up a sign that reads: “You know where to find me.”

Keeping God at a Distance: Introduction to a Journey

2010-10-14T11:03:00.000-05:00

As Found at MicahMandate.com

Ryan Fasani and Eric Paul-

“The gospel does not merely bring the kingdom of God to the poor; it also discovers the kingdom of the poor, which is God’s kingdom. The gospel does not merely call to conversion and faith. It also shows that the poor are God’s fellow citizens, like the children to whom the kingdom of God already belongs.” - Jurgen Moltmann

God associates with the poor. In the Exodus narrative, God liberated God’s own poor and oppressed people. Likewise, God became poor and homeless through the Incarnation (Matt 8:20) and his call to ministry (Luke 4:18ff), and God even pronounces blessing upon the poor—for they will inherit the earth (Matt. 5:3).

Does this indict the rich? Not necessarily. Does it disrupt Christian notions of financial security and upward mobility? Certainly. The mere utterance of the phrase “God associates with the poor” makes us middle-class Americans rather uncomfortable. What kind of a God chooses the poor to be blessed, and what exactly does that blessing look like? Honestly, we don’t know! Perhaps, even more than disrupting our notions of financial security, this is an indictment of the way we do church. Fundamentally, the mission of the church must find its purpose and vision as it relates to the Missio Dei, the Mission of God. In short, where God chooses to be and with whom God chooses to associate, the church ought to follow.

We’ve already covered some ground without a word about our project. We’re heading on a journey and you’re welcome to follow. We’re exploring the distance between God and the church—God and so many of God’s disciples. More substantively, we’re exploring the distance between the church and the poor and looking closely at the shortcomings of the church’s predominant method of missio: charity. We share common experience in our attempts at serving faithfully in East Nashville and we deeply desire to see the Missio Dei in our midst, guiding our vision of service.We shall begin with our presuppositions, namely, revelation. Resting on the belief that God reveals God’s self in particularities (i.e. acts in history), we know God’s association with the poor because of stories that have been passed down to us through scripture. While numerous references abound, we will only expound upon two narratives that help shape the Christian tradition: The Exodus and the Incarnation. Both narratives provide insight into God’s way of being in the world through relationships with those in the shadows of power.

Certainly the children of Israel were a destitute, oppressed, enslaved, and poor community when God appeared to Moses at the burning bush and said, “I have indeed seen the misery of my people in Egypt. I have heard them crying out because of their slave drivers, and I am concerned about their suffering” (Ex. 3:7). God bound God’s self to this powerless people group and led them to freedom. The God who loathes suffering and oppression redeemed their spirits and their bodies from enslavement. Indeed, the Egyptians had wealth, land, and weapons, without parallel in their day. But God did not choose to dwell (associate) among them. Rather, God’s choice was for the weak and forgotten. God demonstrated God’s power not through the might of the powerful but through the weakness of the powerless.

Likewise, Jesus was born to a lowly, unwedded, poor couple from the outskirts of the Roman Empire. Their existence threatened by occupation, Mary and Joseph found themselves giving birth in a cave with the animals. Quite an entrance for the Messiah, the Jews hoped for a liberator, maybe a hybrid between Moses and King David! Instead, they got Jesus, a poor carpenter from the no-good town of Nazareth.

His first sermon came from the book of Isaiah as recorded by Luke, “The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to release the oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” As he continued his ministry, he chose the B-team for his disciples: zealots, tax collectors, and fishermen. Jesus came preaching that the Kingdom of God is near. In Jesus, the one who announces God’s reign of love and justice actually brings love and justice. The tangible signs of the Kingdom, the restoration of the created order, became apparent throughout Jesus’ life: the sick were healed, the lame walk, evil spirits were cast out, and the poor have the good news preached to them (Luke 7:22-23). Jurgen Moltmann summarizes, “The gospel does not merely bring the kingdom of God to the poor; it also discovers the kingdom of the poor, which is God’s kingdom. The gospel does not merely call to conversion and faith. It also shows that the poor are God’s fellow citizens, like the children to whom the kingdom of God already belongs” (The Way of Jesus Christ, 100).

The revelations of God in the Exodus narrative and the Incarnation remind the church that we are to continue God’s pattern of healing presence with the poor. In fact, the Nazarene Manual explains this special relationship, “Throughout the Bible and in the life and example of Jesus, God identifies with and assists the poor, the oppressed, and those in society who cannot speak for themselves. In the same way, we, too, are called to identify with and to enter into solidarity with the poor and not simply to offer charity from positions of comfort” (903.4). Yet, we contend that most churches keep the poor at a distance. If the kingdom of God is a kingdom of the poor, then the church more often than not keeps God at a distance.

Over the next few weeks we will be using this space to discuss ways in which the church is both faithful and unfaithful to God’s association with the poor. Our project is an effort to take seriously the homeless Rabbi that says, “Behold, I stand at the door and knock,” (Rev 3:20). Through the lens of two Christians working in East Nashville, we will use the tool of theological reflection to report on our experience with God’s church living out God’s mission.

Moving to At-Tuwani

2010-07-28T13:40:00.002-05:00

I wanted to write a quick update. I'm tired. It's not just the sun every day, or the long days of meeting with peace organizations and activists- I have had one good night sleep since being in Israel/Palestine. I'm not really sure why I'm not sleeping. I wish I could. I try. At first it was the roosters. The roosters crow every two minutes. I didn't grow up on a farm. I figured that there was some ingrained timing mechanism that all roosters have that make a rooster crow at dawn and never before. Well these rooster crow from 2-7 in the morning, right outside every window. (Not to mention the snorers- I'm really bad at sleeping with those who snore. I can never beat them to sleep, and then I'm stuck). Anyway, this post isn't anything magnificent. I just wanted to share that we're leaving Hebron in the morning to travel to small village called At-Tuwani. They have around 250 residents in a more desert like area. A settlement is built on the adjacent hill and the community has had problems with Israeli Settler attacks. CPT has a full time team in Tuwani to help curb some of the violence and harassment. We'll tour the village tomorrow, walk the kids to summer camp around the Settlement, and stay with one of the Palestinian families for dinner and hopefully a good night sleep. The next day we'll come back to Hebron for another day and half before going to Jerusalem.

I will leave with a few quotes from a reconciliation organization working in Bethlehem, Wi'Am. Zoughbi Zoughbi is the director and founder: "I am a Christian, but of a different sort from the Christians of the West. I am a Christian who believes in the resurrection but I see Jesus still on the cross. He is still on the cross because our political, economical, and social circumstances have been resurrected. This is our hope. We are thankful you are here (talking to CPT). It is important for the psyche of the oppressed to know other nations care for them."

"We have chosen hope, but hope has yet to choose us. In this way, we have chosen the nonviolent struggle. The land where the wall now protrudes into Bethlehem was the best place. Over 800 businesses have been lost to the construction of the wall in this section of Bethlehem. We are trying to maintain a shift away from guilt or victimhood toward communal responsibility. Blaming others is toxic, paralyzes us. I am on who would like to deny Israel an enemy. For me, nonviolence is a way of life and a strategy."

Bedouin Update and New Encounters

2010-07-27T13:59:00.002-05:00

As we concluded our stay in Bethlehem, we visited both Holy Land Trust and Tent of Nations. (As an aside, I went to the Church of the Nativity yesterday and had a beautiful night with new friends at manger square a local Italian (Franciscan) cafe). I have many things that I would like to say and not enough time to write it. First, during the middle of our tour of Tent of Nations, we received a phone call from a Bedouin activist. We had met with her last Saturday as we visited with three Bedouin communities in the Negev. The last community, Al-Arakib, welcomed us into their home. They shared with us their stories, how they had been on the land for hundreds of years (as evidenced by the cemetery with hundreds of graves on the adjacent hill) and their legal land acquisition from the Ottoman Turks. Before Israel was Israel, they knew the land, lived off the land. I met with Aziz as he introduced me to his wife and five children. He asked me to take his picture with his family in front of his house. He told me, "All I want is to be free. I want to live on the same land as my father and his father. If I move to a town, our way of life is ruined. The land is our home. Take our picture and share it with your friends in the West." So I did, but today his house no longer stands. These Israeli citizens had their home demolished this morning. The Israeli govt. said that they could not prove that the land was theirs, and it was legally owned by the state. 1500 soldiers, 2 helicopters, and 5 bulldozers leveled their homes. It is an extreme act of injustice in toward a peaceful people.

Now for something completely different...We met with the Tent of Nations this afternoon. I was extremely impressed with this organization. Due to some very smart manuevering during the Ottoman Empire, the Nassar family purchased and received legal documentation for the ownership of 100 acres 9 kilometers from Bethlehem. Today, this 100 acres still belongs within the Nassar family despite Israeli attempts at trying to confiscate the land. Tent of Nation is on a hill overlooking a palestinian village in the valley and surrounded by 3 illegal Israeli Settlements. In 1991, the govt. claimed all of the land as state property. Legal battles have continued ever since. At this moment, their are demolition orders on 8 buildings. The govt. demolished any building that isn't built under a 'proper' permit. For Palestinians, these permits are rarely given and are very expensive. In the meantime, the Settlers have uprooted over 250 Olive Trees, damaged their water cisterns, and harassed the family with guns. Yet, they do not respond in violence. The Tent of Nations was formed on this land in order to channel pain and frustration into productive means. Their farm is a place of encounter to build bridges of peace and reconciliation from all nations. They are not dependent upon city municipalities. They have made water cisterns to collect rain water. They have built caves to both live and hold classes. They just received electricity for the first time through German donated solar panels. Their farm provides dates, apricots, grapes, figs, olives, tomatoes, cucumbers, apples, and host of other foods grown on the property. In the meantime, they have become a place of hope. There motto, "We refuse to be enemies," encapsulates their longing for reconciliation. They host children's camps and school field trips. They give the children an avenue in which to begin to tap into their creative spirit by bringing them together in new encounters with the other. They also host groups to both teach and act out reconciliation. They invite Israelis, Palestinians, and internationals to visit and begin talking to each other. Together, they have planted over 1000 trees this year. The military is always looking for provocation, so they keep things calm. The director said to us, "Do not resist evil with evil, but resist with good. This is the nonviolent way." Their determination to continue to live in the midst of struggle gave me immense hope. If these Palestinian Christians can live sustainable lives in the middle of govt. oppression to bring Israeli's and Palestinians together, certainly I have something to learn from them. Perhaps our differences in the states are not so insurmountable.

Meeting with the Bedouins

2010-07-24T14:11:00.002-05:00

So, I haven't posted in a few days. A quick update- yesterday was a busy day. We spent the morning on an alternative tour with ICAHD (Israeli Committee against home demolitions), in which we drove through West Jerusalem (the majority are Israelis) and East Jerusalem (with the majority being Palestinians with the exception of several Israeli Settlements in once inhabited Palestinian homes). Quick Stats about East Jerusalem- 78% of the children are growing up underneath the poverty line. 50% failure rate for education. The schools that are fortunate to exist have no air or heat. The municipality spends 480 NIS per Palestinian child on education and 2850 NIS per Israeli student. Settlements are built in less than a year, while one school has taken 6 years to build and is still not open. Also, joined a protest with the Women in Black in West Jerusalem. They have been doing this protest to end the occupation every friday since 1988. We then joined a larger protest in Sheikh Jarah against recent and planned evictions and Israeli Settlements. Those present included Orthodox Jews, Rabbis for Human Rights, CPT, and The world Council of Churches. Heard the owner of the house talk of his eviction. He had a contract to live in the house between Jordan and Israel. He had been living there since 1962. An Isreali family now lives where his children used to sleep. They did not recognize his legal right to his home.

Today we drove south to The Negev. We visited and ate with three bedouin communities. After 1948, the Arab Bedouins (who had been on the land for hundreds of years) were forced to either leave or been restricted to an area called the Siak (?). The siak is an area of the Negev that is tremendously smaller than what is needed to maintain there lifestyle. The Israeli govt. has given them Israeli citizenship but refuses to recognize any Bedouin that lives in a village rather than a town. A town is much smaller and condensed with little access to the land. It would mean an entire cultural change that has lasted over centuries. Rather than discussing the blatant injustice (like destroying a man's house two days before his wedding- no new structures are allowed to be built), I want to talk about their hospitality. At each village, we were welcomed into their home. We sat down with them as they told us their story. As we talked, we were served water, tea, and fruit (dates, cactus fruit). Three times today I sat down and received their offer of friendship and hospitality. In return, they asked that I tell their story. The Bedouins are often not talked about. The last village we met with has just received a demolition order. Some time in the next two weeks, bulldozers will come and destroy their homes. I talked with Aziz. His grandfather purchased their land back when the Ottoman Turks were still ruling. The British respected their rights, but Israel will not recognize their deed. They say it unable to be authenticated. He has five children and shared his desire to live peacefully with and on the land of his family. The land is their home. It is where they have history and memory. The land is part of who they are. It could be gone next week.

Tomorrow, I head to Bethlehem. We may get a call later this week to help the Bedouins in nonviolent resistance. For now, we're going to continue with the itenerary. To Bethlehem.

First Day

2010-07-22T10:13:00.002-05:00

I want to write about two things.

First, riding into Jerusalem, I allowed myself to drift to thoughts about the land. What is it about this land? It looks similar to places in the United States. The shrubbery seems to grow out of the rocks. the dry arid soil exposes itself. It's a contradiction in ways: it feels more alive then first impressions. Unlike the US, this soil speaks to us. The past been preserved in the memory of its inhabitants. There are memories in these hills. Some are not so pleasant. Memories of pain and suffering, violence and death abound. The cries of the dead rise from the earth, looking for redemption, hoping against hope. The pattern across the years has been firmly established; violence is the norm. Listening to these hills, these people, is now my primary task. Can we learn from these memories, or will the dead go unheard?

Second, I was able to meet with the founders and directors or Sabeel, a Christian Palestinian organization looking at ways to build peace here in Jerusalem, Israel, and the rest of the world. I was able to celebrate the Eucharist with Naim Ateek, a Palestinian Liberation Theologian and Episcopal Priest. I sat next to a woman during the service. I asked her her name (Yattas), and we talked for a bit. When she heard that I was American she scowled: "We do not need anymore US Policy's here. We need Christians to live the truth." The truth she was talking about regarded the truth of the Way of Jesus as nonviolent justice oriented. I like her.

Quick aside: I just got back from the Church of the Holy Sepulcher and the Western Wall- two amazing experiences.

I have Arrived

2010-07-21T10:33:00.002-05:00

This is going to be a quick post. I'm borrowing my Team Leader's computer. Thought I'd share that I have arrived safely. I slept about 2-3 hours sporadically on the plane. I'm currently sitting on a roof patio in the Old City of Jerusalem after an afternoon hike up the Mount of Olives. We're about to have a curry veggie dinner with pita bread and fresh fruit. Very excited about this. Wanted to post something on the relationship between memory and history...but I don't have time to fully think and write it out. perhaps I will journal about anamnesis later this evening. Peace.

Reflections on Being Safe

2010-07-19T11:54:00.002-05:00

More so than any other time in the United States, we are obsessed with our own safety. Perhaps the attacks on 9/11 had something to do with the increasing awareness of our perceived state of vulnerability. Perhaps the 24 hour news service that has invaded our home has created an alternative consciousness of fear. Maybe the fact that we have now been involved in the longest lasting war in our nation’s history has perpetuated an overwhelming sense of our own mortality. Naturally, our reaction is to put up our defenses, bunker down, and ‘be safe.’ I often times wonder if ‘safety’ is really what we are to seek as ones who proclaim Jesus as Lord.

This question has bumped around in my head for a while now for several reasons. First, my wife and I just moved to an area of Nashville called Antioch. We are really excited about living here and getting to know those around us. It is an extremely diverse area. For example, Joy will be working at the local elementary school in which over 20 languages are spoken. Several immigrant populations are also trying to find the resources to live- not an easy task when first arriving to new home. At the same time, Antioch does not have the best reputation. We knew that Antioch has had issues with violence, crime, and home invasions. In the past few days, we have been told by several people to ‘be safe’ in our new residence.

Likewise, I am about to embark on a trip to the Middle East with Christian Peacemaker Teams. My conversations with others have varied tremendously. I have met and talked with Pro-Israel Christian Zionists who warn me about all Muslims trying to kill the ‘infidel.’ And, I have heard from the more liberal leaning Pro-Palestinian side of the danger of meeting the Israeli Defense Forces. Whatever image comes to mind when I mention my trip, I am always told to be careful- to be safe. At what point do we as Christians who are to live a life faithful to the calling of the Crucified One draw a line between safety and recklessness?

My mind easily wanders to the martyr accounts of the first few centuries of Christian living. One in particular, The Passion of Perpetua and Felicitas, has caught my attention. This is a remarkable text, not only for its historical value as one of the earliest Christian accounts written by a woman, but also for its astounding theological value and insight. Perpetua was executed in Carthage in 203 CE; after being mulled by wild beasts, her life finally ended at the end of a gladiator’s sword. Having been arrested for her profession of Christ as Lord, the text weaves in an out of visions, prison, and the family relationships. One such relationship rests between Perpetua and her father: “My father returned from the city spent with weariness; and he came up to me to cast down my faith saying: Have pity, daughter, on my grey hairs; have pity on your father, if I am worthy to be, called father by you; if with these hands I have brought you unto this flower of youth- and I-have preferred you before all your brothers; give me not over to the reproach of men…This he said fatherly in his love, kissing my hands and grovelling at my feet; and with tears he named me, not daughter, but lady. And I was grieved for my father's case because he would not rejoice at my passion out of all my kin; and I comforted him, saying: That shall be done at this tribunal, whatsoever God shall please; for know that we are not established in our own power, but in God's. And he went from me very sorrowful.”

This is actually the second interaction between father and daughter. The first account has the Father leaving the jail cell “with the arguments of the devil.” I in no way wish to compare any of my experiences with martyrdom. Martyrdom is never sought out, but in a world that continues to exist in violence and oppression, martyrdom sometimes occurs. I only wish to point out the embodiment of a hope far greater than earthly safety. In this account, the Father is wishing for the continuance of his daughter’s life. This is easily understood as a type of ‘parental love’ that always seeks out the best for those we love. But in this case, it was a temptation to Perpetua to deny her following in the footsteps of the cross. Christianity for the early Christians wasn’t ‘safe.’ But it did leave to an everlasting rejoicing in the knowledge of Christ and the sharing of his sufferings. In summing up three cases of modern martyrdom (Paul Schneider, Oscar Romero, and Dietrich Bonhoeffer) Jurgen Moltmann explains: "This tells us that the martyrs anticipate in their own bodies the sufferings of the end-time, which come upon the whole creation; and dying, they witness to the creation which is new. Anyone who participates in 'Christ's sufferings' participates in the end-time sufferings of the world. The martyrs anticipate this end for their own time, and in so doing they become the apocalyptic witnesses (martyria) to the coming truth against the ruling lie, to coming justice and righteousness against the prevailing injustice, and to coming life against the tyranny of death."

I only recount this narrative to draw back to the current obsession with our safety. I do not think this mentality is worthy of the gospel. Rather, a disciple of Jesus recognizes the pattern of self-giving love to both neighbor and enemy and gives of himself/herself in the same fashion. Whether it be moving to a neighborhood that has higher rates of crime and poverty, or a traveling half way around the world to protest the world’s constant reliance on violence as a way of life, the appropriate response is not ‘Be safe,’ but rather ‘Be faithful.’ Or as a friend of mine put it last night, ‘be peaceful,’ which when we read the narrative of Jesus may be a road fraught with violence.

Christian/Muslim Relations

2010-07-14T20:29:00.001-05:00

The past few months in Middle Tennessee exemplify contrasting personalities. On the one hand, the flood gave the opportunity for residence of Nashville to work together and share genuine hospitality with one another. One the other hand, disturbing news drifted across the pages of the Tennessean: http://www.tennessean.com/article/20100621/NEWS06/6210329. Due to the growing population of Muslims within the Nashville area, there have been several attempts to build new mosques and Islamic Centers in Brentwood, Antioch, and Murfreesboro. Some within these communities (and unfortunately, it seems like the loudest portions of these communities) have expressed their discontent with the new places of worship. Within many of their voices, fear manifests itself in hatred.

I believe one of the greatest hindrances to peace in the world is the perpetual misunderstanding of each other. To be forthright, most Americans do not know anything about cultural Islam, the Quran, or a Muslim’s way of life. And if we do not take the time to know these people who are also loved by God, how can we adequately love in return? Rather, we rely on news snippets about Muslim terrorists. These news organizations do a poor job of portraying the religious foundations of Islam, painting in broad strokes the racist sentiments that all Muslims are terrorists or religious extremists out to make war on the West. This is simply false. Allow me to use this analogy that I heard back in high school. Violent Muslim extremists are to Islam as the KKK is to Christianity. We certainly do not agree with the violence and racism that is propagated by the men in white hoods. Yet, what if the KKK was the only ‘Christian’ group being talked about in other places in the world? Would not their existence become synonymous with Christianity in the minds of those who hear the stories? The fact remains that the KKK was in the extreme minority. So it is with Islam. Violent Muslim extremists are in the minority, yet we paint a picture of all Muslims everywhere thinking the same. We are too quick to judge our new neighbors without learning to understand our new neighbors. One of my Muslim friends has shown me nothing but love, respect, and grace. His life is oriented around the Quran- which has taught him to follow a life of righteousness and justice for all people. I think this story is also worth hearing.

Within the next week, I am traveling to Israel/Palestine. I will be meeting with Jewish and Muslim peace activists who are legitimately proclaiming an end to violence so that a dialogue of peace and justice may resume. As a Christian pacifist, I do not condone violence of any kind- whether it is done by Jews, Christians, or Muslims. I believe Jesus’ death on the cross was God’s protest against the perpetual violence that humanity inflicts upon itself.

Finally, I cannot help but think about Jesus’ interaction with the Roman centurion (Luke 7). I believe this story could be a kind of guide for our interaction with people’s of varying faith traditions. The gospel account records a centurion who had a respected servant lying on his deathbed. The centurion, hearing about Jesus, went to him to ask for healing. Jesus, on seeing that he was not a Jew (obviously he was Roman), did not say to him, “First, convert to Judaism, receive circumcision, and then I will heal your servant.” No, Jesus was amazed by this man’s faith. Jesus had compassion on him, loved him, and healed the man’s servant. Essentially, Jesus shows us how to be good neighbors. I’m not so sure protesting the erection of a new Islamic Center is being a good neighbor. Surely Christians and Muslims disagree on a lot of things- so did Jesus and the centurion. But our differences are not so great that we cannot also show love. Many within the Middle Tennessee area have shown what has been pegged as ‘Islamaphobia.’ But Jesus preaches a different gospel. Jesus did not show fear, nor was he afraid of a living among those different than himself. Rather, he exemplified the Christian mantra that perfect love cast out all fear. This is where the rubber meets the road. Fear paralyzes us, and puts us on the defensive. When we fear, we do not think. Fear grips our hearts and we cannot love. Ultimately, it comes down to love- love your neighbor as yourself and in this way we love and honor God. I am disturbed by the recent outcry against our Muslim neighbors. I feel as if we ought to reach out in compassion and healing, and perhaps there might be a little reconciliation.

Christian Peacemaker Teams- Two weeks and Counting

2010-07-06T18:22:00.001-05:00

Over the past couple of years, I have been increasingly burdened by what Pope John Paul II has called our ‘culture of death.’ On average, the world witnesses 25-30 wars per year. In the last decade, 40 million political refugees have had to flee their countries to escape violent conflict. My work at Vanderbilt has revolved around this perennial question: What truth, if any, can the church proclaim in an age of destruction? Leaning on such theologians and practitioners as Jesus, Ireneaus of Lyons, Justin Martyr, John Howard Yoder, Jurgen Moltmann, and John Wesley, I have come to believe that the death and resurrection of Jesus is God’s divine ‘no’ to the patterns of violence and oppression in our current culture and God’s divine ‘yes’ to life and peace. Furthermore, the church must stand as a witness to God’s loving presence in the world. Next year, I will begin writing my senior project, “A Holiness Theology of Nonviolence.” In preparation for this culminating work, I have applied for and received a grant from Vanderbilt Divinity School to travel with a peacemaking delegation to the region of Palestine/Israel with Christian Peacemaker Teams (CPT).

CPT is rooted in the Mennonite, Brethren, and Quaker traditions, aiming toward participation from all denominations of the Church in seeking organized, nonviolent alternatives to war. CPT’s motto, ‘Getting in the Way,’ symbolizes both the physical aspect of nonviolent peacemaking and the spiritual foundation of the work as following ‘The Way’ (as early Christianity was called). They ask the question: What would happen if Christians devoted the same discipline and self-sacrifice to nonviolent peacemaking that armies devote to war? In this way, they train and deploy full-time and part-time peacemakers in areas of world conflict: Iraq, Palestine/Israel, Colombia, and Ontario, Canada. These teams have been invited to join with local peace and human rights workers in nonviolent direct action, working to reduce violence, documenting oppression, and undoing racism/sexism.

The following weeks will be devoted to this trip. I hope to be able to share with you my experiences as they happen. In the meantime, I plan to document my questions, thoughts, concerns, and theological inquiries prior to my July 20th departure on this blog. If you want, let the comment section be a place for open dialogue. I look forward to sharing this time with you. May the peace of Christ be with you always.

You have 30 Days...

2010-06-05T16:00:00.001-05:00

The poor teach us who we are. A few weeks ago, a flood rocked Nashville, TN. Houses, roads, and businesses- all underwater- destroyed in the rising waters. In some cases, the flood claimed the lives of people we love. It continues to be a tragedy. As homes are still awaiting repair, businesses are slowly creeping back to life. Thousands of people lost the ability to make a paycheck. The first images of the flood were of I-24 ransacked by a swift moving current. It carried over 70 cars and a school trailer down the interstate. The next day, the images were of rising water in the Bellevue neighborhoods. Most of us living in Nashville are all too aware of the damage of the flood. The Cumberland filled to capacity and then flooded over, and while the news continued to show clips of rich country music artists losing their instruments, a small community of people gathered what few belongings they could carry and made for a Red Cross shelter at Lipscomb’s campus.

For these few 140 people, their place of residence by the Cumberland was destroyed. But unlike others who would receive insurance money, FEMA checks, and other assistance, these men and women would not be aloud to return to their tents. The residents of Tent City did not only begin the flood homeless, but they now had no place to return. The flood created unsanitary conditions; a new place would need to be found. While permanent housing has always been a priority for those working among the ones who have no place to lie their heads, there became a desperate need for temporary shelter- hotel vouchers, church gymnasiums, unoccupied land for tents, and affordable apartments all had to be sought before the closing of the Red Cross shelter. Unfortunately, the city of Nashville was less than accommodating. Of the 60 or so people who needed vouchers, they were only given 15 for a one-week period. After weeks in the Red Cross shelter and diminishing options, Doug Sanders at Otter Creek invited the once Tent City residents to sleep in his church for the time being. In the meantime, a 124-acre plot of land in the Antioch area was leased out as a temporary option. The residents would only need 2 acres on which to live. While this location was not ideal (too far from the downtown area), it would allow more time to find both temporary and permanent locations. The land was private property and leased for only 90 days.

The poor teach us who we are. Since last Friday, when the tents first appeared on that 2 acres, the residents of Antioch found common ground in their enmity against their new temporary neighbors. Residents called their councilman to complain. An inspector was called to try to find a land violation, and a Town Hall Meeting was set up to hear from the community of Antioch. I went to that meeting Thursday evening to listen to why they seemed to be so volatile. Here are a few quotes that I took down (more found at www.amoshouse.wordpress.com).

“You can’t just move them in on us like this. You have to crawl before you can walk. We love people- but we’re afraid of them.”

“We have a problem here in Antioch, and it’s the homeless. I work in a service station and these people steal ice. They don’t buy food; they buy junk and candy… Nashville has a bad reputation for being soft on the homeless. My community is in danger. We don’t want them here…if you want them, you take them!”

“Everyone here wants to help the homeless, but there is a proper process.” (Is this not the same argument white ministers had against Dr. King while he sat in a jail cell in Birmingham?)

“Antioch gets a bad rap, we need to care about Antioch; we ought to expect the best for Antioch. No more bringing anything to Antioch that is not positive! No more bringing anything to Antioch! The gates of Antioch’s charity are closed!” (Living Word Community Church, the Pastor).

“’The Bible says let your light shine before men that they may see your good deeds and glorify our Father in Heaven.’ We say, let your light shine in Brentwood, not Antioch.”

The poor teach us who we are. These are some of the visceral reactions of some of the residents of the Antioch community against those who have been displaced. I do not wish to write a blanket statement that encompasses all of Antioch. It is not my intention denigrate or belittle many who have shown support through words and actions on behalf of Nashville's poor. But this Town Hall meeting was disgusting. Almost all the statements were prefaced by some form of- ‘I’m a Christian,’ or ‘I’ve gone to church my whole life.’ I cannot help but think, if this is what our churches have been teaching then the church has failed. We have failed to love our neighbors. We have failed to clothe the naked, feed the hungry, house the homeless, and visit the sick and imprisoned.

The poor have taught us who we are. Antioch turned their back on those who need them most. The ones who deny the poor are the same ones who deny Christ in their every day existence. They are the ones who, while entertaining angels, have condemned themselves. They are the ones who are missing out on God’s future kingdom. Blessed are the poor for theirs is the Kingdom of God. It is not a coming blessing; it is already here. The poor are blessed. This tells me that I am missing a part of the kingdom. And until I interact, love, know, and befriend the world’s poor, then I am missing God’s kingdom. This goes further than charity. Charity is a useful device for keeping the poor at a distance. We can appease our guilt without interaction. But we miss the fact that when Jesus proclaims the gospel to the poor, he is explicitly condemning those who are rich. The road to riches is often fraught with violence, even if we don’t acknowledge or see it. The poor are blessed. God has opened God’s future to them.

The poor teach us who we are, so we often hide them. For those residents of Antioch, we displace them (once again). They have been served an eviction notice. While it remains unclear to me what violation has been found, one indeed was found. They have 30 days to clear the land. There is one more statement that stuck in my mind from Thursday night: “The heart of God is with the poor. You have 30 days to know the heart of God.”

Good Friday Reflections

2010-03-22T14:04:00.001-05:00

“My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” These words pierce the suffering agony of crucifixion and in turn carry its own peculiar suffering of abandonment. The Christ, the one we call Lord, is dead. All of our concepts of who we think God was and is are nailed to that cross. We can no longer assume we know God apart from the cross. When we look at the Cross we are perplexed, confused, lost. We may find ourselves much like the disciples- fleeing from the death of the one whom they once followed. They cannot face the utter failure of Christ’s message. Jesus, the one who preached liberation to the oppressed and a new Kingdom of love, met utter failure as one killed by oppressors. The experience of the cross for Jesus was met with a total discontinuity from the message that he preached. The Kingdom of God is near, and yet on the cross Jesus experienced a hellish abandonment. Can we come to any other conclusion? The unique event of the cross is that the Powers of politics and religion combined in a very common way to put to death the social threat that was Jesus.

We try, rather unsuccessfully, to explain away Jesus’ cross. We don’t like it. The cross rightfully makes us uncomfortable. We are embarrassed that God has allowed the Powers of this world to kill God’s chosen One. So we think it necessary to protect God- we have devised systems of who God is for us that look past the cross to the resurrection. We talk of the cross as our justification before God, and don’t ask whether we are merely trying to justify God’s non-action on the cross. The resurrection is joy and hope; the cross is death and abandonment. We prefer to see God in the resurrection and see the cross only as a necessary step in the process. We like the God who raised Jesus from the dead and don’t know what to do with the God who allowed Jesus to die.

What I am trying to say, what Christianity must proclaim, is that the cross of Christ is a complete scandal. The cross affects God. This is why we cannot know God except through the cross. The cross alone is our point of reference. And the revelation of God through the self-emptying of God’s self in the cross is the complete abandonment of trying to make history come out right. We so often ask the question of ‘Why did God become human’ that we neglect an equally important question of ‘Why was Jesus killed.’ Jesus’ renunciation of ‘equality with God’ for the form of servant obedience unto death is the renunciation of any type of worldly control. The cross marks Christ’s willingness to suffer utter defeat. This obedience that refused coerciveness seems to be saying that the cross is the meaning of history, not power, domination or oppression. Jesus did not raise a sword to defend himself; rather he refused to cooperate with the powers of this world. This seemingly foolish way of being in the world resulted in death on a cross. But it is precisely at this point that the Christian understands God’s victory. The abandonment of Christ on the cross comes at the ultimate solidarity of God with all of the world’s suffering ones. The cross is not a sacrifice Christ does instead of us, it is Christ showing us how to give ourselves for the love of the other. This is why Paul writes that we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling to Jews and foolishness to the rest of the world. We want to argue that Christ justifies are existence, along with our own ways of controlling the outcome of history. But this is God’s task. The cross instead opens up the history of God as a Being-in-relation with and for the world.

Holiness and the Way of Nonviolence

2009-08-30T08:08:00.000-05:00

During a century that can be defined by the wars that we fight, I beg to ask the question, “What does holiness, and in particular the Nazarene Church, have to say about war?” We have learned to live within a state of perpetual war, and it has become normalized to the point of acquiescence. If we truly believe that God is working to make individuals holy, we ought also believe that God may work to transform whole communities and even the world.
Violence is one of the most potent social institutions of our time, and has been a plague on the human race since Cain and Abel. It destroys relationships, breaks up families, inspires hate, and spurs on revenge. In short, violence fosters even more violence. In Biblical lore, we can read about the story of Samson, whose justification for the 3,000 dead Philistines incites the myth of redemptive violence: “I merely did to them what they did to me” (Jdg. 15:11; NIV). In an age where entire cities can be annihilated by the push of a button, we desperately need to once again hear Jesus’ words, “Love your enemies and pray for those that persecute you, that you may be sons of your Father in heaven…” and in this way, “be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Mat. 5:44-45, 48; NIV).
Christianity has had a particularly disturbing violent past. From the cross of Constantine, the Crusades, Spanish Inquisition, Colonialism, and even to the peculiar blend of rhetoric that interweaves religious imagery with political war in the present age, we sometimes forget that our tradition was birthed in the swaddling clothes of nonviolent love. The early Christians could not justify killing because they were called to be holy, a people of God. Justin Martyr put it this way, “We have exchanged our swords for plowshares, our spears for farm tools [Is. 2]…now we cultivate the fear of God, justice, kindness, faith, and the expectation of the future given us through the crucified one.”
The Church of the Nazarene believes that the Holy Spirit is working to heal, restore, and sanctify God’s people here and now. Such an act by the Spirit prompts us further and further toward Christlikeness. To be holy is to love as Christ loves, forgive as Christ forgives, and in so doing participate in the redemptive act of the Kingdom of God. It is to this Kingdom that the Church stands as witness. Dr. Carl Leth made this point in last year’s July/August issue of Holiness Today when he wrote, “The healing, transforming reality of God's new creation in Christ is available now. The distinctive message behind our teaching of entire sanctification is its availability, its possibility.” If we believe that God is working to heal the world now and that the church acts as a witness to the possibility of the Kingdom “on earth as it is in heaven,” then we must seriously contemplate a stance of Christian pacifism.
I don’t think anyone looks at the violence prevalent in the world and calls it good, but I do think that most of us look at violence as a type of necessary evil. We can’t think of any other way in which to resolve conflict. Our social heritage of militarism has so entrenched our thinking that we can’t imagine a society without violence. We assume the only way to combat terrorism and hate is by sending more troops. The message of those who claim the Lordship of Christ is the possibility of the world as it could be, as it was meant to be as God’s good creation. It is a beautiful act of re-imagining what it means to live as if we are truly created in God’s image.
As a holiness people, we believe that creation is being renewed now, and we are participants in this Spirit act. Is this not what sanctification means? Is it not a renunciation of death, and a turning to the abundant life offered through the resurrected Lord, the One who refused to pick up weapons even when it meant betrayal, torture, and death? It is to follow this pattern that truly exemplifies the Way in which we live in truth and life. It is a denial of the false claim that violence can restore peace. We Christians do not pick up weapons as if history is ours to control; rather we are faithful even if we must be patient for God’s effectiveness.
But this does not mean that pacifism connotes passivity, as if we are to merely wait and hope for the day when violence ceases. No, we are called to actively engage the powers that be. We are witnesses to the Kingdom that is breaking into the world. In war, God is not on the side of a nation-state but on the side of the casualties of war: the orphaned, widowed, homeless, and poor. Our local churches become safe havens of hope. We practice forgiveness because we have been forgiven. We offer mercy because God has been merciful. We offer our food because Jesus has shared his body. Peace has been made possible because of the resurrection, and within the body of Christ we stand against the forces that bring death. May we begin to recognize our unique calling as a people growing in holiness, living in the expectation of peace and love.

A Quick note

2009-06-01T10:53:00.002-05:00

In view of Pentecost, I've been doing some focused reading on the Holy Spirit and came across this sentence that stuck out to me. It's from N.T. Wright on the role of the Spirit and the church given at the Fulcrum Conference in 2005.

Some are "so heavenly minded that they are no earthly use." In context, he is describing a deist framework and ways in which heaven and earth are intertwined. I liked it though and thought I'd share.

Christian Identity defined by Moltmann

2009-05-31T08:54:00.002-05:00

Throughout the past semester, my class on Religious Pluralism asked the question about Christian identity. This was particularly adjudicated in expression of multiple religious belonging. For example, Panikkar is an ordained priest within the Catholic tradition as well as within the Zen Buddhist tradition. So within the class, it raised the discussion of what it means to actually belong to a particular tradition. Is it public confession, an expressed conversion experience, moral behavior, or rituals such as baptism? In light of such questions, I have decided in this post to just quote Moltmann as an added voice toward Christian identity, a voice to add to this discussion. I do this as much particular local community of believers is preparing for a Pentecost Baptism service.

"Where does the identity of the Christian faith lie? Its outward mark is church membership. This, however, takes us no further, but merely moves the problem on. For the Christian identity of the church is itself questionable, when the form it takes is affected by so many other interests. One can point to the creed. But to repeat the formula of the Apostles' Creed is no guarantee of Christian identity, but simply of loyalty to the fathers and to the tradition. One can point to particular experiences of vocation, conversion and grace in one's life. But even they do not guarantee one's identity as a Christian; at best, they point to what one has begun to believe in such experiences. Ultimately, one's belief is not in one's own faith; within one's experiences in faith and one's decision, one believes in someone else who is more than one's own faith. Christian identity can be understood only as an act of identification with the crucified Christ, to the extent to which one has accepted the proclamation that in him God has identified himself with the godless and those abandonded by God, to whom one belongs oneself. If Christian identity comes into being by this double process of identification, then it is clear that it cannot be described in terms of that faith alone, nor can it be protected against decay by correct doctrinal formulae, repeatable rituals and set patterns of moral behaviour."

Questioning Social hierarchies

2009-05-12T15:58:00.002-05:00

I wrote this in response to these questions found at Epworthpulpit.com.

Analyze your own culture - the one you live and work in everyday. What does it value? Who does it reward? Why? What is its worldview? How are its values changing? What examples can you give that its values are changing? What does your culture teach you? What does it not teach anymore? How does it want you to think and feel?

When we start asking, searching, and contemplating these kinds of questions, we are taking the initial step of a performative ethic. Whenever I tell someone that I have taken or am taking a course in theological ethics, I am almost routinely asked some sort of hypothetical question: ‘6 people are in a raft days from being rescued’ type of scenario. And while this may prove to be a way in which to discuss elements of institutional ethics and theory (deontology, teleology, utility, virtue, etc.), rarely do we take the time to analyze why those decisions are made. Situational ethics took a step toward context, but left behind past experiences, roles, cultural norms, and social hierarchies.

The truth is, we as humans are shaped by systems already in place. Most of us don’t hesitate to buy $80 Nike shoes because we have been shaped to believe Nike is the best brand. Michael Jordan wears Nike; Tiger Woods and Lebron James are the face of Nike. Rarely do we ask the questions of how the shoes are made, where are the shoes made, what people make the shoes, what materials go into the shoe, and how much money goes toward the laborers and how much to the corporation. All we know is that we have been shaped by the millions of dollars that have gone into advertising the stellar performance of Nike gear. Growing up, it was the cool kids who wore the latest Air Jordan’s. Our culture has also taught that the more expensive the shoe/gear/clothing the better it will work and the more people will accept you. So dolling out $80 on shoes fulfills a role within the social norms of both acceptance and capitalism.

Ethics isn’t a type of hypothetical situation in which you have a certain time frame in which to best logically approach a situation. We make hundreds of decisions on a daily basis without even realizing it. This is why the first step in ethics is learning what is going on around you. Why is it that we acquiesced so easily to a war in 2003? Why are guns sales 30% higher now than a year ago? What role does fear play in social institutions? Why is it that black youths are 6 times more likely to be imprisoned for similar crimes than white youths?

We all fit within different hierarchies. We’re white, black, latino, American, Mexican, Iraqi, Christian, Jewish, or Muslim. We are students, employees, and bosses. We all fit within hierarchies and are shaped and formed by the respective roles inherited by the social norms of said hierarchy. But what happens when the hierarchies collide?

There have been whole studies on the nature of social formation in ethics (“The Banality of Good and Evil” by David Blumenthal is an excellent resource). This issue becomes most prevalent when the church hierarchy collides or contradicts with the mores of the nation-state. I have been a Nazarene my whole life, and have a degree from a Nazarene Institution. I have been firmly rooted within holiness doctrine. Our emphasis upon the work of the Spirit, the perfecting love of Christ, and the example of Jesus on the cross culminating in the redemption of creation, a making of all things new, necessarily throws a dark shadow on such demonizing institutions of poverty, racism, and violence. We as a holiness people are called to emulate the work of Christ here on earth. How can we pick up the weapons of the world? In Jesus’ own words, ‘my kingdom is of a different kind.’ Violence is perhaps the most potent of social institutions. Our country was established through genocide of the native people group and then a violent revolution. We make heroes of our violent predecessors throughout our history classes and continue to use war rhetoric that violence is okay as long as freedom results. Very rarely do we think about the people we are becoming, or the devastation it creates in the lives of others (the very others Jesus calls us to love).

For some, this may read as some sort of liberal rant. I assure you that I only write as one who has contemplated, analyzed, prayed, and discussed my social context as a Nazarene holiness Christian. Our culture teaches greed, selfishness, and violence as a way of life. I believe the church teaches not only redemption but liberation from violence, selfishness, and greed. Repentance is a turning away from these systems of destruction to a new life of peace and love. The church ought to start practicing this new hierarchy of social norms. Our ethical decisions are embedded in these practices of nonviolence.

First Year is Done.

2009-05-08T16:07:00.002-05:00

Well, I finished up my first year. All in all, I feel as if I learned a lot, was stretched in ways that helped me grow, and am looking forward to the four month break. After a week of doing nothing but watching movies and checked out episodes of 'Bones,' I have started to compile my summer reading list. Last week, I read through Rob Bell's new book "Jesus Wants to Save Christians," and this afternoon I started working my way through Moltmann's "The Crucified God." Others making the list include: AJ Levine's "The Misunderstood Jew," St. Augustine's "Confessions," St. Gregory of Nyssa "the Life of Moses," Tolstoy's "The Kingdom of God is within You," and I may pick up Bonhoeffer's "Ethics" again. That's the initial list for now.

Peace.

David Dark: The Sacredness of Questioning Everything

2009-04-10T10:11:00.002-05:00

A few years ago I was recommended a book by an author I had never heard of. But having trusted my friend (Thomas Bridges) I purchased "Everyday Apocalypse" by David Dark. The book proved to be an imaginative, informative, and serious look at ways in which 'apocalyptic' works its way into the present liberating us from our often times sincere yet misguided intentions. Dark does this through the medium of pop-culture: Flannery O'Connor, the Simpsons, Radiohead, and Beck. Here is a quote from this book. "If we're incapable of recognizing the subversive, satiric insight of something like "The Simpsons," our ability to apply ourselves to the joys of interpretation, or to view art well at all, has proven itself deficient."

While at Vanderbilt Divinity School, I was able to take a class with David Dark. (He's a PhD student in Religious studies). His third book was released through Zondervan last week. "The Sacredness of Questioning Everything" should be a good a read and I'm looking forward to spending some time with it over the summer. I was able to talk with Dark yesterday and was given a free audio copy of the book which is available to everyone who wishes to download it through zondervan. I was told to share it with anyone I knew, and was given permission to post it on my blog. So, free audio book of David's new book:

zondervan.com/m/sacredquestions.zip

ENJOY!

Christian Peacemaking Teams

2009-03-24T10:57:00.003-05:00

A close friend of mine, Julia Bridges, is currently in the Israel/Palestine region with CPT, a christian peacemaking organization that asks the question: what would happen if Christians devoted the same discipline to nonviolent peacemaking as nations do to war? You can read about Julia's experience at...www.pursuit-of-peace.blogspot.com

More of Avery Paul

2009-03-03T20:58:00.003-06:00

Joy and I were able to go to VA over the weekend and see the family. My brother Doug and his wife Elizabeth are adjusting to life with an infant. And she is a beautiful girl. I wanted to post some more pictures of my niece.

Avery Grace Paul: my niece

2009-02-22T20:40:00.004-06:00

My brother and his wife just had their first born daughter. Born Febuary 20, she weighed in at 7 lbs. and 11 oz. Unfortunately, I live 11 hours from Doug and Elizabeth and will not be able to see Avery and the new parents until this weekend. Until then, here are some initial pictures. I look forward to posting some more after the weekend.

Excerpt from "Jesus and the Other Names"

2009-02-14T12:01:00.002-06:00

This is actually a quote taken from David Bosch as used by Paul Knitter. I thought it worth sharing:

"Kingdom people seek first the Kingdom of God and its justice; church people often put the church work above concerns of justice, mercy, and truth. Church people think about how to get people into the church; Kingdom people think about how to get the church into the world. Church people worry that the world might change the church; Kingdom people work to see the church change the world." (110).

Knitter actually uses this quote to generate a type of Kingdom oriented theology, practice and mission. This new 'regnocentric' (rather than Christocentric or even Theocentric) outlook recognizes that the church is not the mission of God but rather, "there is a church because there is mission."

The whole point that Knitter is trying to encompass is that if the church is not the mission of God, though it is still a necessary component of God's work of bringing about the Kingdom, then it may be possible to imagine other ways in which God is bringing about redemption and wholeness to creation.

It kind of puts a question mark next to the famous dictum: No salvation outside the church.

Calling All Stories

2009-02-02T12:37:00.002-06:00

I will be preaching on the Beatitude found in Mat. 5, "Blessed are the Peacemakers, for they will be sons of God."

One of my favorite quotes from Bonhoeffer is from his writing entitled, "No Rusty Swords" in which he says, "There can only be a community of peace which does not rest on lies and injustice." Justice and peace are intertwined. Without justice, there is no peace.

I'm looking for stories of people working towards peace and justice: recognizing injustice and actively participating in God's work of restoring creation.

Please, let me hear your stories.

Just for Fun

2009-01-30T19:12:00.004-06:00

If you're in the mood for a little irreverent British biblical humor, this video is for you. It's kind of along the line of Monty Python's Life of Brian. My Hebrew Bible Professor showed this in class last semester.

Theology of Religions

2009-01-12T14:13:00.002-06:00

I'm taking a class entitled "Theology of Religious Pluralism." I am only two lectures and half a book into the class, however I am enjoying the theological inquiry that naturally results from such a discipline. Here are a few questions worth asking. Feel free to add your own or even begin a dialogue.

Does grace alone incur Christian alone?

Are we to quick to claim John 14:6 without first working through John 1? In other words, what do we do with the fact that God was at work through the Word before the Word took on flesh? Would not such a theology point us toward a continual work of the Spirit outside the church?

Is Christianity, or even the church, the goal of God? If not, does this not open up the possibility of God's grace working through other means?

I believe this is a good starting point. Obviously, certain questions arise about the distinctiveness of Christianity as found in Christ. How is that we can retain a Christocentric theology and not perpetuate the often negative exclusivism that the church creates?

These may not be the best questions, and they may lead us/me to even more questions, but I think that are worth asking and reflection.

How Long Oh Lord?

2009-01-05T22:07:00.001-06:00

My heart is sad. A few weeks ago we as a church were in a period of waiting. We waited in quiet anticipation for the babe of peace, God as Man. We recognized the darkness of the world and eagerly awaited a glimmer of light. On Christmas we were jubilant as our expectation and our hope was recognized in the most absurd way. We worshipped a baby, the Prince of Peace, who would in turn have to flee for his life during political unrest.

And now Israel is once again in political unrest. The death toll of Palestinians in the past few days is astounding. Of the over 500 killed, 200 have been civilians. That’s over 500 who are now widowed, orphaned, childless, or homeless. I am reminded of that poignant moment in “Children of Men” when the child is born and the violence ends. For a moment, that child is seen as the culmination of struggle and hopefulness. For a moment, differences are set aside and there is only the reality of the baby. And then the fighting resumes.

I am reminded of the words of Martin Luther King, “It is no longer a choice between violence and nonviolence in this world; it’s nonviolence or nonexistence.”

May our hope in this world not be misplaced. May it ever rest on that child who thought being born in a cave was a better way to usher in a new Kingdom than in a mansion with a military.

Jesus: be now with dying, the injured, the destitute, and their families.

Nonviolent Action in the Middle East

2008-11-29T20:44:00.002-06:00

On Tuesday evening (Dec. 2nd), Vanderbilt Students for Nonviolence, Jewish Studies, and The Office of Religious Life will be hosting both James Lawson and Rabbi Everett Gendler. Both are well known practitioners of nonviolence in the Civil Rights Movement and have been a well needed voice for nonviolent resistance for social change. Rabbi Gendler was influential in Georgia, Selma, and Montgomery and has recently been involved in community organizing for Tibetan exiles as well as initiating the Active Nonviolence Education Center in Dharmasala, India. He and Lawson will be discussing the possibility of nonviolent action within the Middle East, examining the social structures, history, and repetitive violence desolating the families and land. If you are in the Nashville area on Tuesday evening, head over to Wilson Hall (Room 126). It should be an edifying experience.

"The making of a great compilation..."

2008-11-08T14:41:00.002-06:00

Joy and I went to the Exit/In on Thursday evening to take in the music of Sleeping at Last. While I was there, I started thinking about the top five bands I would see if they were in town. It is a list of bands that I have seen and haven't seen, but if they came to Nashville I would have to see them. I thought some would make it on the list, but obviously couldn't make the cut because they have already been through town in the few short months I've been here: like Ray Lamontagne and even Ben Folds. I have to admit that I didn't go see either because we were short on cash, but that's what makes the list better. If you go see this musician or band even when you are squeaking by, they deserve consideration. Without further ado:

5. Sleeping at Last: I have Levi and Katie Holland to thank for this one. They introduced me to this Wheaton/Chicago band while in college. I have now seen them four different times.

4. Death Cab for Cutie: I was introduced to this band by Chris Allison my freshmen year in College. I have yet to see them live but are a must on my daily play lists.

3. Coldplay: Nashville is almost too small of a venue for Coldplay. The closest they get to us in there Vida tour is Atlanta, and that is unfortunate. I would love to experience 'Lost' and 'Fix-You' in person.

2. Over the Rhine: Brilliant lyrics, amazing vocals, and majestic sound. I'm considering driving to Louisville, KY to catch this band on Dec. 12. (Shout out to Marcus who introduced me to OTR)

1. U2: If they are in a 5 hour radius of where you live, you need to go regardless of price. I saw them live in Chicago when they came through for the Vertigo Tour. If I made a top five list for my life's best experiences, a U2 concert would be in the top three. (My brother Doug has been influential in the maturation process of this particular band).

Why do I vote?

2008-11-04T16:36:00.002-06:00

In the course of the primaries and the months leading up to this day, I have been pushing the idea of voting further back in my mind. I have always been told that voting is the number one way of making your voice heard. It is intricate in democracy. It is a national past-time and a privilege that others do not share. It is down-right American. And yet, I ask myself, is it Christian?

The James Dobson's and Pat Robertsons of the world would tell you that voting is intricately linked to our lives as Christians. Being involved in the political process is like being involved in the Kingdom of God. Jim Wallis would say that we have an obligation to vote our conscience but making a clear distinction between the difference between the nation and the Kingdom of God. And yet, I am haunted by the memory of the early church refusing any participation in imperial society. They would not defecate themselves by offering a pinch of incense to either party.

The relationship between the church and state has become extremely murky. Conservatives seem to scream about no prayer in schools and try to break down the barriers between the church and state, trying their best to build a theocracy with the Bush administration. But I wonder if the separation of church and state isn't so much to protect government as it is to allow the church the freedom to be what it ought. Christian citizenship has never been about aquiescing to the state. It has always been about courageous, community altering, unqiue set-apartness. Blending the church with the nation-state always ends up altering the church, never the other way around.

So how does this uniqueness look like when we go to the polls, acting as good Americans? I went to the Art Music Justice Tour the other week. Derek Webb took some time to talk about voting and started to question why voting seems like such a 'christian' thing to do. My wife looked at me and asked, "Did he just tell us not to vote?" Yeah, he did. And while I'm still working this out, I still took the time to submit my early vote. Maybe I should take some more time before the next election, but I'm interested in hearing what others think about this great American christianized voting mechanism.

Greatest Good?

2008-10-09T09:29:00.002-05:00

I wanted to try something different with this post. I want to start a little discussion. It will probably be little because it might end being a discussion with myself. I was watching the Presidential debate the other night and noticed something that both candidates actually agreed upon. Both believe that the United States is the greatest force for good and peace in the world. Good and peace seemed to be interchangeable in the language that was used. I was in my nonviolent struggle course the other week when Jim Lawson said, "The #1 enemy of peace in the world is the United States." So where does the US actually sit on this spectrum? Obviously there will be some language issues. The terms are clearly comparative, and in the sense of judging a hierarchy of peace and its production might prove problematic; but the general idea can still be discussed.

So is the US the greatest force for peace, or the #1 enemy of peace?

I want to hear some thoughts before I post my own...

From out Defense Secretary

2008-10-01T08:05:00.002-05:00

I thought this article was very interesting, in part because the Sec. of Defense admits the limitations of war and thankfully recognizes its inherent brutality. This was a speech given at the graduation of the National Defense University.

http://www.latimes.com/news/nationworld/nation/la-na-gates30-2008sep30,0,2382416.story

Athanasius and Creation

2008-09-21T08:29:00.001-05:00

Before there was a beginning, there was only God. God is not restrained by time, nor can God be restrained. Time itself was a creation of God, but God now works within and through time. Athanasius recognized the act of creation as continual thread of human existence. In his work On the Incarnation of the Word, Athanasius develops a doctrine of the incarnation that hinges upon the doctrine of creation, “For in speaking of the appearance of the Saviour amongst us, we must needs speak also of the origin of men, that you may know that the reason of His coming down was because of us” (4: 2).
To understand the nature of the incarnation, one must first have an adequate view of the One who is incarnated. Athanasius taught that the Word was before time, one with the Father, begotten, and yet not created. The Word is known as Son, though not through adoption, but is co-equal with the Father. The Word had an intricate role in the creation process. As Athanasius remarks, “It may be duly perceived that the renewal of creation has been the work of the self-same Word that made it at the beginning” (1: 4). Yet, the grace given humanity by the will of the Father by means of the one law in the garden, so that we may continue in the knowledge of the Creator, afforded the possibility of corruption.
This corruption of God’s good creation did take place. Wickedness, wrongdoing, and evil wasted away God’s plan. God was left with a bit of a quandary: either the creation wastes away to non-existence (nullifying God’s goodness), or God could redeem humanity by turning a blind eye to his own law (thus making God a liar). Neither was acceptable. Humanity must be held accountable while still preserving the goodness and creation of God. Athanasius recognized that man had been created in the image of God, but it was in the fall that the image was lost. The incarnation then takes the role a redemptive act to restore the lost image. It seemed reasonable that the only way in which to restore the image lost was by the Image itself. As it was said by St. Gregory the Theologian, “The unassumed is unhealed.” In this way, the ‘Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.’
It is through the God-man that true knowledge of God also exists. The boring of flesh did not corrupt the divine, rather through the pairing of the divine with the body the body was made perfect. Likewise, through the indwelling of the Word the body is sanctified. Athanasius reminds us that “even though creation be a thing made, it is not absurd that the Word should be in it, then neither is it absurd that He should be in man.” And, while He was man he took upon himself the death of humanity so by it the Resurrection of the dead may be inherited. The Word in Christ gave man’s mortal soul a way in which to progress to immortality. Not only was the Word an instrument in creation but creation meets its fruition in the Word. The incarnation then acts as God’s deliverance to a state of communion with Himself.

James Lawson

2008-08-27T10:06:00.003-05:00

I have officially sat through at least one of all my classes. My night class on Tuesday is entitled "The Nonviolent Struggle" taught by James Lawson. James Lawson was one of the leaders in the Civil Rights movement, particularly in Nashville. He is an older gentleman, white hair, with a very calming presence and an articulate diction. Here is a story that recounts my extreme intimidation in the presence of this man.

After asking us why we took his class, he asked us a series of questions. How many of you have been involved in a picket line? Half the class raises their hands. How many of you have been involved in a social struggle for change that lasts longer than 6 weeks? How many of you have been involved in Civil Disobedience? Three people raise their hands. How many of you have been arrested? No hands. He just looks at us. All I can think is that this man thinks we're a bunch putz's that like the idea on nonviolence but have no experience. Of course, we're sitting in front of man who was arrested for being a conscientious objector during the Korean War.

Later in the class he mentions a certain distinction. Though the authors of the books we will read make a distinction between nonviolence (as ideological) and nonviolent action, James Lawson sees no distinction. Nonviolence is a lifestyle that is not relegated to some distant realm of theory but makes its home in the nests of the practical way living.

I have not been arrested, and my little protest at Olivet against the war can hardly count as Civil Disobedience.

Class Schedule

2008-08-26T17:08:00.002-05:00

I need to take the time to expound on the past week, but it's been crazy. Below is my class schedule: I'm excited to say the least.

MWF: Formation of the Christian Tradition (9:00)

MWF: Hebrew Bible (11:00)

T, R: History of Christian Liturgy (11:00)

T: The Non-Violent Struggle, taught by James Lawson (6-9)

Classes have finally started. I'm a student again, this time at Vanderbilt.

Where is our allegiance?

2008-08-17T13:39:00.004-05:00

Last night, Barack Obama and John McCain met for the first time since becoming the presumptive nominee of their parties. Interestingly, they met at Saddleback church with Pastor Rick Warren as the moderator. Many people know him as the author of Purpose Driven Church/Life and establising massive networking machine within protestant evangelicalism. While there are things I like and dislike about Warren, that was not the point of last night's forum. (Though I am thankful he has moved away from right wing single issues political evangelicalism: abortion is important, but so is poverty, racism, HIV/aids, hunger, and human trafficking).

Last night was a unique time for both candidates to speak openly and honestly about their positions, character, and assumptions about leading the country. I don't get any of the cable news channels, but I was able to watch it online streaming from msnbc. I don't want to spend too much time talking about all the details. Briefly, I thought Obama was more personal and open. He seemed willing to discuss and explain how he believes what he believes. McCain was very straightforward and seemed to just reiterate everything his party platform already says.

One thing stuck out to me. It was something McCain said, and actually something he had written in TIME Magazine a few weeks ago. He tells a story of when he was a prisoner of war in Vietnam. His guards used to bind his hands and legs together with his head tucked down by his feet throughout the night. One night, a guard came in and loosened his ropes. A few hours later, he came back and tightened them again. A few months later, at Christmas, McCain was allowed to go outside for a few minutes. This guard, without saying a word, came and drew a cross in the dirt. McCain said last evening, "For a minute there, we were just two Christians worshipping together."

I thought it interesting that it was only for a minute. Obviously this is interpreted many different ways, but I see this as a deeper theological expression. For both the guard and McCain, nationalism comes before Christianity. I understand that many in the blogosphere may disagree, but when Christian is pitted against Christian in violent aggression for the sake of national interest, the church has a problem. The guard was unwilling to leave his post for the sake of another Christian (though he did risk much). McCain joined the military explaining that this his country has always been 'number one' in his life.

I often times wonder, if I may borrow a phrase from Ron Sider, what would happen if the church spent as much time and effort on peacekeeping as nations spent on war. We might be able to move from two enemies worshipping for a brief moment to two friends bound by the love of Christ deciding to renounce violent aggression. The time has now come where we can come together and worship in spirit and in truth.

A Fractured Unity

2008-08-03T14:14:00.003-05:00

This morning Joy and I went to St. Paul's Episcopal Church in Franklin, TN. It was a good experience. One thing in particular stuck out to me: the beauty of the liturgy. Good evangelical protestants have often labeled more liturgical services as archaic, old, or out of date. I think it has more to do with a lack of understanding rather than the mode of service. The service flow has a centuries old witness. When I experience such a service I can't help but think that thousands of churches are reading this scripture and proclaiming the Lord's death at the same time, and we are not alone. Those who have gone before us are also 'groaning in child birth' as we await the holistic redemption waiting for us. They are present, as is Christ.

I particularly noticed the transition from the homily into the creed. As the media has made abundantly clear, the Episcopal church of the USA has been going through a rough patch. The seminal issue revolves around the acceptance of gay bishops. Some are for it and some are not. There was an honesty this morning when this was addressed. However, it was not a message against or even for homosexuality within the church. It was a message of love in the midst of our differences. One can interpret our differences as our views about homosexuality, our certain doctrines, or even the way in which we conduct a service. What matters is that Christ is in all and through all. And we as a church are still trying to figure that out.

The serviced progressed from the homily right into the first words of the Nicene Creed: "We believe in One God, the Father, maker of heaven and earth, of all that is seen and unseen." How beautiful a movement. To go from talking about the divisions that have arisen within the community and then still professing the unity that is in the body of Christ culminating in the Eucharistic feast. May the love of Christ continue to knock down the barriers that keep us from loving each other.

A few happenings

2008-07-29T19:11:00.003-05:00

Joy and I have been here since the beginning of July. It's kind of weird because next month's rent is due on Thursday. It does not feel as if we have been here that long. It's also weird to actually pay rent. This is something neither of us have had to do. We can thank Joy's employment at ONU to thank for that one.

I usually don't take the time to update my blog about the goings on of my life. I usually have dedicated this blog to my thoughts and theology. I like it that way. And if you do too, I am sorry that I have not written much in the past month. To be honest, I have not been as disciplined here as I was back at school. I have all the time in the world with no job, but I am distracted easily while at home. I also lack the funds to visit the local coffee shops as much as I did in Bourbonnais. It is an entirely different to also have a wife that also does not work. Essentially, we spend all of our time together. This has been wonderful as I love my wife, but once again very distracting from the routines I had set up over the past year.

It is time for new routines, but I have been apathetic to start them (except for running and exercising everyday) because I would have to re-start them in a month when school begins. I still don't know what my schedule is, and that is frustrating. I know a few classes I will be taking: Hebrew Bible, Formation of the Christian Tradition, and perhaps a Pastoral Care and Theology course. That leaves room for one more. The hope is that there is room to register for a class entitled "The Non-violent Struggle." It covers the biblical basis of non-violence and then analyzes key non-violent movements throughout history with an emphasis on the civil rights movement, South Africa, and Ghandi. As many of you know, I want to take this class.

We're hoping that we have jobs sometime in the next week. If something happens, I will post. We were able to go to a book tour with Tony Jones, Doug Paggitt, and Mark Scandrete last night entitled "the church basement road show." They impersonated an early 20th century revival. It was interesting to say the least. I have not read their books.

That's it for now. If you want to read some funny stories about our first few weeks here in Nashville, check out my wife's blog entitled "Joy's Journey" on the blog roll. She tells these stories better than I could. Peace.

Good News

2008-07-22T17:32:00.002-05:00

My wife now has a blog. Apparently, she has been going crazy with nothing to do. After moving to Nashville a little over two weeks ago, we still don't have jobs. So, she decided to write about it. You can check it out at...www.joytpaul.blogspot.com

And I swear I will start writing more shortly. I just want to be back in school...Vanderbilt is still a month from starting.

New Article

2008-07-10T09:00:00.002-05:00

Just thought I'd let you know that I just wrote an article for an online magazine. It's under the culture section entitled "Christmas in July..."

The website is www.wreckedfortheordinary.com

Just moved to Nashville so I haven't written in a while. I will do so in a few days.

New Book: Jesus for President

2008-06-20T17:47:00.002-05:00

I’m pretty sure that the best gift in the world is gift cards to bookstores. I recently received a few of these and bought a variety of books. I bought Glittering Images, by Susan Howatch, Jesus the Jewish Theologian, by Brad Young, The Cross-Shattered Christ, by Stanley Hauerwas, and Jesus for President: Politics for Ordinary Radicals, by Shane Claiborne and Chris Haw. I decided to read the latter text first. Joy and I are going to listen to Claiborne next Monday at Mars Hill. I thought it would be a good place to start. (I’m actually most excited about reading the book by Brad Young).

Let me start by saying that my first impression of Claiborne’s book is that it is a conglomeration of several theology books but with a lot more stories. It is very clear that Shane and Chris draw heavily from Yoder, Brueggeman, Hauerwas, Walter Wink, and a number of other authors who write substantially about God and Empire. It is also clear that he reads his Bible a lot more than I do.

This isn’t going to be a book review. I’m not in that mindset at the moment. Instead, I just want write about some of things that I thought about after reading this book. First, I like the language. Calling Moses an ‘orphaned refugee’ is a term I never thought of. Though, I’m not quite sure he was orphaned in the same way as a child from Uganda. Moses’ parents weren’t killed (enslaved yes, not killed). Or, the way the quotes are juxtaposed:

“Ever-faithful God, in death we are reminded of the precious birthrights of life and liberty you endowed in your American people. You have shown once again that these gifts must never be taken for granted….We seek your special blessing today for those who stand as sword and shield, protecting the many from the tyranny of the few.” – Donald Rumsfeld, Sept. 14, 2001

“We ourselves were well conversant with war, murder and everything evil, but all of us throughout the whole wide earth have traded in our weapons of war. We have exchanged our swords for plowshares, our spears for farm tools… now we cultivate the fear of God, justice, kindness, faith, and the expectation of the future given us through the crucified one.” - Justin (martyred in 165 AD).

Shane clearly reminds his readers that Jesus must be understood within his Jewish context, that Israel was not to be blessed more than others, but they were to be a blessing to the world. In fact, when Israel decided to be like others nations and begged for a King, God cried, “They have rejected me.” They were to be the ‘called out ones’, to embody God’s hope for the world.

Jesus then comes while the Jews are looking to be freed from the oppression of Rome. They want a liberator, one carrying a sword, for how else can one be freed from oppression than by violence? Except, their liberator, the one who strikes such fear in the king that he kills thousands of baby boys, starts preaching a peculiar message of loving your enemy and praying for those who persecute you. Then, when being arrested, not only does he not fight back, but he rebukes his disciple Peter for pulling out a sword, and answers Pilot, the governing official, that if he wanted to fight he could call on his disciples. BUT his Kingdom is not like the kingdoms of this world. His Kingdom is different. It is one where we say to those that hate and curse us, ‘you are our brothers.’

Shane is often times funny. In the last chapter and a half he uses our own American empirical context to the show the idolatry in our system. Through many stories, and quotes from our early church fathers and Christians throughout history, Claiborne analyzes the struggle of ‘serving two masters.’ He even writes, “If it appears as though we are encouraging folks to leave the military, that’s because we are.” I love it. He reminds us that while America, and all other nations, put their trust in the bomb as our security and strength, we are admonished by the prophets to not put our trust in military might but in God alone. Shame on the church for making the military out to be an honorable profession. War is never respectable. War feeds on our fear, but love casts out all fear.

I’m pretty sure that God has a better dream for the world than what America is doing in Iraq. Shane draws on many saints who have gone before us. This is what some have to say:

“During times of war, hatred becomes quite respectable, even though it has to masquerade under the guise of patriotism.” - Howard Thurman

“I am a soldier of Christ and it is not permissible for me to fight.” - St. Martin of Tours

“On my knees I beg you to turn away from the paths of violence and to return to the ways of peace.” – Pope John Paul II

“Pray for them, and resist them.” – Fr. Daniel Berrigan

One Year ago...yesterday

2008-06-10T09:45:00.002-05:00

Yesterday, my wife and I celebrated our one year anniversary. And by celebrate, I mean, I played nine holes of golf and watched Euro 2008 futbol while my wife worked all day. (Our vacation Bible School was aptly scheduled to be on our anniversary-thus the working all day). Our last day in Bourbonnais is on Sunday. We decided that we would take some time next week to appropriately celebrate. We will be spending three days on the sand dunes in Michigan. I can't wait to spend time with my wife.

I also can't believe that I have been married for a full year. We were always told that the first year is the hardest. I hope everyone is right. It certainly has been an adjustment, and if someone tells me that easing into marriage was easy, I don't really believe them. Responsibilities change virtually over night. Except, it takes the husband a really long time to realize it. I have moments in which I don't even think about my wife. The other day I was making coffee. I drink coffee almost every morning. Joy occasionally drinks coffee but has recently been enjoying a good glass of sweet tea instead. At any rate, I'm making coffee and am about two scoops short of enough for both Joy and I. I made the executive decision to make coffee just for myself. Well, that little mistake apparently gave my wife the idea that she could give herself another nickname: AT (After-thought). That was a fun day.

I say this because I'm still learning what it is to fully devote myself to someone else. And it's hard. Joy and I have a lot of fun and we love our time together and each other. But we are both still learning what it is like to truly love the way that Christ loves his church. (I see this learning continuing through the next 75 years of marriage). I am so thankful for my wife. She truly is teaching me how to live within the Kingdom of God. Below are the vows that we said to one another one year ago. I thought it appropriate to remind myself and others about the importance of our commitments to one another.

I, Eric, take you, Joy, to be my wife. With the deepest joy and a humbled spirit, today we embark on a new life as one. As Christ is to His Church, so shall I be to you a loving and faithful husband. Together we will hope and dream. When we stumble, we will restore each other, offering grace as Christ has done on our behalf. We shall serve one another as we strive to serve others. I promise to cherish and respect you, comfort and encourage you whatever the circumstance. I will be yours in the good and the bad, whether well fed or hungry, living in plenty or in want, freed and yet still bound by the love of Christ so that we may grow into Him who is our Hope. This I commit to you until death separates us.

Nazarene Compassionate Ministries

2008-06-03T10:23:00.003-05:00

I picked up a magazine from church the other day. It is the publication of Nazarene Compassionate Ministries. It tells the stories of those who have dedicated themselves to the cause of the poor, to combat injustice, and love mercy. This particular issue traced the history of compassion within the Church of the Nazarene. From the very beginning, the Nazarene Church was at the forefront of what we call ‘social justice’ issues. Our founder, Phineas Bresee, preached on the first Sunday of the first Nazarene church in Pasadena in 1885. He alluded that the only new occurrence of this particular movement was “its determination to preach the gospel to those in need, and give the poor a church where they could feel at home.”

A friend of mine was telling me why she particularly liked this magazine. It gives her hope. It gives her hope that there are people whose lives are so in tuned with the heart of God that they can’t help but help those in need. We don’t see much of this anymore. I work at a food pantry every Tuesday. It has been truly a blessing to be able to serve in this way. Recently, I have been more cognizant of Jesus’ words, “What you have done to the least of these, you have done to me.” Despite some smelling of alcohol, some who are angry, and others who are ashamed, I am beginning to see the face of God. There is an unexplainable love at this place. It is not easy, but it is love being worked out.

I mention this only to quote one of our earliest General Superintendents: “Pure religion always has and always will have two faces, purity and service. To neglect service in the welfare of others is to demonstrate a lack of purity. Holiness people should be pre-eminent in social service. This is what chiefly characterized the Early Church- their uniting service to bless their fellow men and care for their widows and fatherless children.”

I am thankful for this magazine. I am glad that it is being published by my church denomination, but I feel as if its very existence points toward our lack of understanding. The Nazarene church’s major publication is a magazine entitled “Holiness Today.” It deals primarily with issues of ‘purity,’ and by purity I am talking of issues of the heart. So we have created a separate magazine to deal with issues of service and social justice. At some point in our past, we have gradually gone from the recognition that holiness works itself out into compassion to the separation of purity from service. We now echo the dualism so prevalent in today’s culture. This magazine isn’t the only indicator. The Nazarene church began and flourished in the inner-city. We are now a church of middle-class suburbanites. One of the goals of the Chicago-Central district was to establish a Nazarene church within the Chicago city. So, there was not one Nazarene church among 4 million people. Astonishing.

I say this both as an indictment and a hope. I hope that we can once again recognize Jesus’ face in the face of others. Let us recognize that there is but one gospel that encompasses the social and the spiritual, and they are inherently related.

What Happened?

2008-05-29T10:49:00.001-05:00

If you were to search Amazon for the top selling book in the past day, you would find that Scott McClellan’s book “What Happened: Inside the Bush White House and Washington’s Culture of Deception” is the #1 seller. I have several thoughts about this. First, I have not read the book. I have read reviews and articles but not the book itself. My first gut reaction is that McClellan, the former Press Secretary in the Bush Administration, is making a killing off of this book. During an election, with an unpopular war, and a President whose approval ratings have been historical lows, this is the perfect time for a book such as this. So, if I were to read this book, I would read it with a grain of salt.

However, if I may quote Obama, this has “confirmed what a lot of us have thought for some time.” Over the past 3-4 years, Pres. Bush has come under heavy scrutiny for his seemingly unplanned invasion of Iraq. Now, we have no timetable for exit, and we’re coming out of one of the more violent times of the war. This we already knew. What McClellan states is that Bush had resolutely set out for War with Iraq shortly after Sept. 11. (We should note here that McClellan was Press Sec. from 2003-2006). In fact, McClellan writes that the White House went under a mass propaganda campaign to convince Congress and the American public that war is the only way, even at the expense of honesty and forthrightness. He writes, “Having gotten this far by vigorously seeking to manipulate public approval to our advantage – most notably in our political propaganda campaign to sell the war – we assumed the same approach [showing forward progress toward a democratic Iraq] would continue to work in our favor and help us overcome any challenges ahead.” And more to the point, “He and his advisers confused the propaganda campaign with the high level of candor and honesty so fundamentally needed to build and sustain public support during a time of war.”

I am thinking three things:

1. McClellan is being very strategic in the way in which he is making money. Controversy always sells.

2. President Bush is smarter than we give him credit for. Though he is quite known for his ‘Bushisms’ and below average grades, anyone who can convince the American public and both sides of Congress to go to war despite breaking international law and the Constitution in the process, is smarter than we first thought.

3. McClellan calls it a ‘culture of deception.’ I completely agree, but not just in the realm of politics. I’ll save my post on a ‘culture of deception’ for a later date.

I thought a lot more than three things. I thought about how this war was a ginormous mistake from the beginning. I thought about McCain trying to distance himself from the White House but still carrying the same agendas (It seems that the two major differences between McCain and Bush are on torture and the environment). Also, if a democrat does not win in November they should disband, take a few years off, re-think they’re purpose of being, and ultimately blame the Clintons. (This is written from the perspective of neither a democrat nor a republican. Seriously, the past 8 years of Bush’s administration seems to have proactively served the presidency on a silver platter to the Democrats. How this could be botched is beyond me…). This was not to turn into some election year rant, so I’m done. Peace.

Thoughts on Being Prophetic

2008-04-30T10:48:00.000-05:00

As I had mentioned in an earlier post, I am going back through some of my older books. I picked up Brueggemann’s ‘Prophetic Imagination’ last week and thought it worth mentioning. There is one particular part that I would like to discuss. Brueggemann develops the thought of Israel’s early existence as an alternative community. It is “the appearance of a new social reality” that emerges out of the exodus and forms “a social community to match the vision of God’s freedom.” Brueggeman asserts that there “is no freedom of God without the politics of justice and compassion, and there is no politics of justice and compassion without a religion of the freedom of God.” Of course, this seems best understood when it stands in stark contrast to a dominant, often hostile, culture.

When Israel decided to be like all the other nations and develop power through war and kingship rather than by God, they themselves became the oppressors. This becomes most evident through the reign of Solomon. Brueggeman, through Mendenhall, states that this Solomonic achievement is actually the ‘paganization of Israel.’ There are three things that characterize this achievement: incredible affluence, oppressive social policy, and the establishment of a controlled, static religion.

This third ‘achievement’ is the one that caught my attention, specifically when Brueggemann writes that this static religion consigned God and his temple “as part of the royal landscape, in which the sovereignty of God is fully subordinated to the purpose of the king.” In other words, God supports our particular nation-state; or, the freedom of God is now suppressed and given over to God’s easy accessibility. (We see a similar tension in 20th century theology between God’s transcendence and immanence). Essentially, God now resides in the temple for whenever the people need a God. Solomon builds God a house for him to dwell. According to Brueggeman, “God is now ‘on call.’” No longer is there need for a surprise burning bush or a cloud to follow. Instead, God follows his people. When one looks at the three ‘achievements’ of Solomon, one begins to recognize that “it provided a God who was so present to the regime and to the dominant consciousness that there was no chance of over-againstness, and where there was no over-againstness, there was no chance of newness.”

I started thinking about God and his temple. When I was younger, I remember hearing and reading the story of Jesus’ death. When Jesus was dead the sky was dark, there was a great earthquake, and the temple curtain that separated God’s dwelling place from the rest of the temple was torn in two. I was always told that this ripping of the curtain was God’s way of saying that the ultimate sacrifice was made. No longer was the blood of a lamb needed. Jesus paid the ultimate price. And in my nice and neat evangelical faith I accepted this as part of the doctrinal package of justification. It seemed congruent with the differences of the Old and New Testament.

I wonder now if this could be interpreted differently (not wrong, just different). What if this was God’s way of crying “Freedom?” When I think about it now, I actually smile and laugh to myself. Who would have ever guessed that a Roman crucifixion would be the way in which God proclaims his freedom? Israel stuck God in a building the same way we stick God into a neat doctrinal package. Our culture models Solomon’s in a scary way. Never in history has there been this enormous amount of wealth, which of course also characterizes a politics of oppression in which the marginalized are rarely, if ever, heard. And God’s presence is just a quick ‘prayer’ or drumbeat away. We have no recollection of his mystery because he’s our ‘best friend.’

Essentially, we have made Jesus into the kind of savior that we desire rather than the savior that He is. This reminds of a Hauerwas quote: “The resurrection of Jesus is the ultimate sign that our salvation comes only when we cease trying to interpret Jesus’ story in the light of our history, and instead we interpret ourselves in the light of his.”

Something I read this morning

2008-04-29T09:50:00.002-05:00

"Human beings are ambivalent toward holiness. We are drawn toward those qualities exemplified by a St. Francis or by Mother Teresa, or by communities who witness to the gospel under severe persecution. Yet we find such qualities disturbing, too far removed from the way we must live our daily lives. Something deep within our existence creates a restlessness for God, yet we live and move and work in a culture of technology, efficiency, and the tyranny of the literal. The hunger for holiness coexists uneasily with the practical atheism [italics mine] of our way of life. Still, the deepest language of the Christian biblical tradition claims that the created world itself already reflects the goodness of God but also groans in travail for sanctification and recreation. The time and place where these tensions intersect is the gathered church at worship." ('Sanctifying Time, Place, and People' by Don E. Saliers; taken from A Guide to Prayer...).

Incoherent musings

2008-04-24T11:25:00.000-05:00

I’ve been hearing the same thing for a few years now. In fact, I’ve been hearing it since I was a sophomore in College. It has always bugged me a little bit. It’s this small phrase that seems to place me within a certain category of people. It assumes a certain immaturity of faith on my part, and it is almost connotes a certain superiority of the one who says it. In fact, this little phrase scares me. Allow me to explain, this is little phrase is always said by an older adult, and usually by one for whom I have great admiration. And, it is always said in a certain context.

Over the past couple years, I have come to believe that the Kingdom of God is more than getting into heaven, more than forgiveness of sins, and more than individual piety. I hold the conviction that the church is not God’s purpose for the world but merely an instrument to bring about his purpose. I believe Jesus came preaching a coming reality that is both present and still to come. It is a Kingdom of Peace: one that restores and re-creates; one that binds people together in mutual service and compassion. It is a Kingdom of peculiarity. It forms a community and it is in that community that we begin to understand the sanctification of the community as a foretaste to the Kingdom. And it is my belief that this Kingdom, especially in the light of Jesus’ teachings, is inherently political. For how can a formed community not be?

It is this last statement that usually gets me a little trouble (not that trouble is a bad thing: is not the nature of the church supposed to express the radical nature of the gospel?). My conviction that the Kingdom of God is actually a way of life, the way of Jesus, has led me to be involved in war protests, open discussions about stewardship issues in the church and University, support for the poor and homeless, and multiple letters and gatherings about the injustices around the world. As a result, I usually get this little phrase thrown my way: “I used to be just like you.” Sometimes it is coupled with another phrase, “But you’ll grow out of it.” Either way, the point is made that I am like most young people: newly education, immature in that education, an idealist, optimist, and heart-strong. At least, that’s what they’re thinking.

At the same time they think that, I am thinking about the divorce of the spiritual from the practical. These words are from the same mouths that say we are “The people of the book,” but where in that book do we learn of a community of a disembodied faith? How are we able to say we have our sins forgiven and yet cannot forgive our neighbor? How can we say that God is a God of peace and still pay war taxes with a clear conscience? How are we a distinct people if we cannot even show a consistent ethic of life: we say life is precious and support anti-abortion laws but are unwilling to uphold life’s ‘preciousness’ when it comes to the death penalty?

My church denomination began within the inner city working among the ones who had nothing. They worked with the drunkards and homeless, the foreigner and hungry. They could not justify spending money on massive buildings when our brothers were dying on the streets. The stories that come from my tradition during this time give me hope and inspire me. Unfortunately, over the years, we have moved from the inner city to the suburbs. Drinking is now just a standard to attain holiness rather than abstinence to support any kind of social change. I’ve been given a lot of crap because I don’t mind hanging out with those that drink. Apparently I’m not supposed to have relationships with people that do. But I think this is foreign to the Kingdom of God.

I know I’m still immature and have a lot of growing to do. In fact, I think I’ll be growing in my faith for the rest of my years. I expect nothing less than continual learning and testing what God is doing. But to hear these words that ‘they used to be just like me’ scares me. It makes me not want to be like them. I want to be more like Ron Sider who has developed a program of holistic ministry, one that teaches of the spiritual and temporal as inherently dependent. Yes, God offers us forgiveness for the wrongs we have committed, but those wrongs are often done to others. God’s forgiveness helps us move to healed relationships with others. His grace teaches us to bestow grace on others, and not just the ones we like. We are taught that God’s heart are for those who are broken and struggling.

A lot of times this brokenness comes from some of our institutions. I am pretty sure that this endless ‘war on terror’ is almost institutionalized. It is never ending. Capitalism is also inherently evil. What do we do with a system that feeds off greed? We see the effects of it as the rich just accumulate more and the poor can’t get out of poverty. Remember, there are never oppressed without oppressors.

I could go on, but this is already rather long for a singular blogpost. I just want to say one more thing. In my reading of scripture, I find that Jesus’ message is more directed toward change in the here and now rather than waiting for some miraculous trumpet blast that will usher in complete peace and restoration in a moment of divine intervention. I think this is part of the church’s responsibility: to be a foretaste of God’s reconciling love. In other words, we are forming an alternative community in the face of the dominant powers (I'm stealing my words from Brueggemann).

Finally, A Decision

2008-04-18T09:47:00.000-05:00

As many of you know, I have taken the year off from school. Upon graduation last May, I was married and stayed in the Bourbonnais area. My wife is a children's pastor at College Church. During this year, I have been substitute teaching and serving at a local restaurant. While I am not sure why I would want to give up substitute teaching, we have made a decision to relocate. I have been offered a scholarship to attend Vanderbilt Divinity School. We will move to Nashville, TN sometime over the summer. We don't have jobs, money to pay for school, or a place to stay. But we're going anyway. And we're excited.

Moving on...I hope to get better at this blog posting. I have been in a real slump lately. I finished all my books that I got for Christmas and don't have the funds to buy more (this is another way of saying that I don't think my wife will let me). So, I'm re-reading my bookshelf. Hopefully, this will manifest itself into some noteworthy blog posts. We'll see what happens.

Over the Rhine

2008-03-26T10:42:00.001-05:00

The other night I went to a friend’s house to hang out. We were roommates in college and now we are both in a state of transition: taking a year off before going back to pursue Masters work in Theology. My wife was gone for the evening so I didn’t need to worry about time (not that it mattered, I was still home by 12). We cooked up some beef steaks, cooked some fresh garden corn, and made some biscuits. It was a fabulous meal. As we sat there eating, we turned on some music and began discussing some of our favorites.

Marcus has seen Over the Rhine in concert 4 different times. I have yet to see them live, and to be honest, I just started listening to them two months ago. I still only own the two disc album ‘Ohio,’ and I absolutely love it. Marcus turned on this album through the stereo system while we ate. If you haven’t listened to Over the Rhine you should stop now and go listen to this miracle of music. They have a grace that transcends most bands of their raw honesty. The beauty of their melodic harmonies and deep soulful cries is only exceeded by the splendor of their poetry. The tension between their music and lyrics catches me off guard in a wonderfully splendid way.

Marcus and I sat their enjoying a good home cooked meal while listening to this band. We started talking about their lyrics, our favorite lines from numerous songs. A few are listed below.

From “Jesus in New Orleans”
Suggested by: Me

“But when I least expect it
Here and there I see my Saviors face
He’s still my favorite loser
Falling for the entire human race”

Same Song
Suggested by Marcus

“Ain’t it crazy
How we put to death the ones we need the most”

From “Changes Come”
Suggested by Marcus and I

“This ol’ world’s too f***** up
For any firstborn son
There is all this untouched beauty
The light the dark both running through me
Is there still redemption for anyone
Jesus come
Turn the world around”

Marcus and I both agreed that this is probably the most appropriate usage of the f-word we have ever heard. The sheer lyrical brilliance brings into tension the world as it is against the world as it is meant to be. This song reminds me that the word for conversion actually means a ‘slow turn.’ It is a new direction, a new way of life, a new way of living within the Kingdom of God. Changes come, ‘it ain’t all over babe, in fact it’s just begun.’ Or, as Jesus continues to say, “The Kingdom of God is here.”

Children and the Moral Life

2008-02-07T11:02:00.000-06:00

My wife is a Children’s Pastor at College Church of the Nazarene. She loves her job and the children whom she is teaching. While she both loves and likes children, I have a hard time liking them. This is not to say that I don’t see a deep and important need for raising them within the Christian narrative, but it does render itself to relatively repeated occurrences of annoyance. No matter how cute they are, they still run, scream, bite, hit, cry, and smell. So I go to church every Sunday morning with a smile on my face as I work with these children. (It's really not bad. I wrote most of that in jest).

I could probably go into a lengthy discourse of how we as people learn to be moral. That is to say, we understand our sin only in relation to God’s creation. We act and think that this world is not God’s, that it is our world, and that our decisions are inherently our own simply because we made the ‘choice.’ Christianity teaches us that this is our fundamental sin, and that learning to see the world as it truly is, that we are fallen creatures, is instrumental in any transformative process. Yet, I will not bore you in the development of Christian ethics and the narrative is possesses. Instead, I will tell you a story.

This past Sunday I was leading a small group of fourth graders. We had just discussed the parable of the merciful King. If you are unfamiliar with this story is goes as follows: There once was a King, a powerful King. One day, this King decided that he was going to collect the debt that his servants owed him. He called in his servant who owed him a lot of money and demanded he pay it back. The servant could not pay it back. Knowing full well that he would be thrown in jail, he begged to King for mercy for himself and his family. And the King gave it to him. He dismissed all his debts. The servant, on his way home, saw a man who owed him a small chunk of change and demanded he pay it back. But the man could not. The servant then had him thrown in jail until he could repay his debt. The powerful King heard of this unmerciful act and called his servant forward saying, “Did I not show you mercy and forgive all your debt? Why then could you not show this man the same mercy?” He then had him thrown in jail. (Matthew 18).

During the small group, we began to talk about what it means to show mercy, love, and forgiveness. I asked these children what they would do in certain situations. How would you respond if your brother ripped off the legs to your favorite Barbie? What if your best friend accidentally shrunk your sweater in the dryer? What if your sister spilled kool-aid on your bedspread? What if you were kicked in the shin? The answers I received astonished me. I expected the pat Sunday school answers. We had just talked about showing mercy, and yet the children were honest (I love that about them). They responded, I would do the same back to them: I would kick them back, I would spill kool-aid on their bed, I would destroy my brother’s GI Joe figures. It was in this 4th grade discussion group that I realized an important parallel between children and adults. We as adults act like children.

Let me explain. What would happen if we taught our children a pattern of living that truly was merciful and forgiving? What if they could learn at a young age that retaliation is not the way of Christ? What if the narrative of God’s Kingdom come could be manifest in such a way that their reaction to being kicked is not to kick back but to offer friendship? I wonder if the Kingdom could be seen at a young age in this manner if it would translate to a particular social life. Instead of shooting back, we bring to light the destruction of violence. Instead of falling into a pattern of thinking violence can be redemptive, we recognize what it truly is: a myth of redemptive violence. Instead of suing our brothers and sisters, we could seek reconciliation instead of their money. The list could continue. We as people do a pretty poor job of practicing mercy and forgiveness, both individually and socially. Perhaps, it is because we have learned in the past few hundred years that our life is our own, and so is the world.

Honoring MLK

2008-01-23T21:48:00.000-06:00

In 1989, there were 13 non-violent revolutions in 13 different countries. All but one was successful. In the 1950’s and 60’s, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. led such a revolution. His words and actions challenged the social systems of his day. He was jailed, beaten, and killed in response to a revolution of values against the “giant triplets of racism, materialism, and militarism.” His words continue to challenge us today.

Many of us recognize partially the contribution King has played in our nation’s history and in the social movement that began to combat the evil of racism. He became one of the earliest Freedom Riders in Birmingham, organized non-violent protests aimed at overcoming the dominant powers, and worked endlessly throughout the courts and from the pulpit to express the way of Jesus as the “more excellent way of love and nonviolent protest.”
He was at the forefront of the desegregation laws in Birmingham, the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and 1968, and the Voting Rights Act of 1965 (which came as a result of the Selma to Montgomery March). He did this constantly under a barrage of threats on his life and criticisms from the white churches that he characterized as the “archdefender of the status quo.” He longed for the days that had been characterized by the early church: “a thermostat that transformed the mores of society.” Yet, he loved the church, for there is no disappointment without great love. King recognized the Church as “a colony of Heaven, called to obey God rather than man.”

One can hardly fully appreciate the role MLK played in the moral growth of our nation. But I also believe we have consigned him to a domesticated historical icon rather than a true revolutionary figure. Our political leaders call on his name but only as political talking points. They forget that as much as King combated the evils of racism he saw the economic and political system driving blacks into a state of poverty. Now, we recognize that it is not limited to blacks but to also Latinos, Asians, and Arabs. King recognized the increasing immoral disparity between the rich and poor and commented: “we as a nation must undergo a radical revolution of values. We must rapidly begin the shift from a ‘thing-oriented’ society to a ‘person-oriented’ society.” When profit, property, and machines become more important than people, “the giant triplets of racism, materialism, and militarism are incapable of being conquered.”

In this month alone, the United States government will have spent 9 billion dollars on the war in Iraq. In the time of Martin Luther King, another controversial war was being played. In response to the war in Vietnam, King prophesied, “A nation that continues, year after year, to spend more money on military defense than on programs of social uplift is approaching spiritual death." There is an estimated 42% of every dollar being spent on the war or its effects. Comparatively, this is enough money to cover universal health care, universal education, and affordable housing.

On April 4 we will once again remember the legacy of Martin Luther King, a man who died too early. May we do more than just remember. May we honor him by using the same methods of non-violent resistance in the face of the dominant powers. May we recognize, as King recognized, that Christianity “is a calling that takes [us] beyond national allegiances” and that “we still have a choice today; non-violent coexistence or violent co-annihilation.”

Colorado

2008-01-10T09:05:00.000-06:00

This past weekend I was able to fly to Colorado with a good friend of mine, Jon Christensen. We spent two days skiing at Winter Park and then a day at Vail. Skiing is quite possibly my favorite thing to do. It is best when it is paired with reading and a loving wife, but still fantastic on its own. I am an average skier. I do the blacks and double blacks. I can do some 180's and some minor 5-10 foot drop offs, but I am still working on my technique. I have some issues with keeping my weight centered. I thought I would mention my flaws before I went into how amazing Vail was.

I have never seen anything like it. The night before skiing Vail, it snowed, and snowed, and then snowed some more. The day we were on the mountain it continued to snow. Visibility was limited, but it didn't matter. We had first tracks down one of the Back Bowls at Vail. It was knee deep powder. I will never forget that first run. We dipped into the untouched clouds of paradise. It was smooth, deep, and pure. Across the mountain, you could here screams of delight: men and women finding the joy of the heavens. By the end of the run, we couldn't even finish our sentences. "Oh My....Did you see...I cannot believe...That was amazing!"

Really, the best way to describe that first run was with a smile. And each of us had one.

The Stepping Block Christmas

2007-12-24T08:09:00.000-06:00

Have you ever felt that Christmas is just a stepping block to Easter? The only reason we celebrate Christ’s birth is because Christ also died and one cannot die unless one is born. So we celebrate his birth. It almost seems somewhat tedious. The church spends four weeks preparing for his coming only so we can celebrate his death and resurrection. Most churches recognize the Advent season as a preparation for his coming (Advent actually means “coming”) and prepare sermons and worship accordingly. Yet, in all of our talk about Christ’s birth it is only a prelude to Easter, or even his 2nd coming. It’s almost as if Jesus became man in order to come again because it is only in his second coming that judgment and perfection occur. (I realize I am making broad sweeping claims. I also realize there are many churches who truly approach advent reverently and honestly).

I’ve been thinking a lot about the significance of Christmas this year. I’ve been looking at it more from a soteriological aspect than anything else. What does Christmas mean in the grand scheme of salvation? I think it goes deeper than just being born in order to get to the cross and ultimately to be raised to life. I think we venerate the cross and resurrection while leaving the incarnation behind. Or, as some would say, we place the point of the incarnation on the cross or at the point of the resurrection rather than in the baby Jesus. Thus Christmas is just a stepping block.

I think the incarnation plays a more important role in theology and in our lives than we Protestants would like to admit. St. Gregory the Theologian once wrote, “the unassumed is unhealed.” Man could not have been healed unless God had taken on man’s nature. God took on our humanity as an act of restoration, an act of deliverance, and ultimately an act of love. In other words, man cannot get to God so God comes to man. The ultimate goal of salvation is found in the incarnation. The birth, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus must be viewed as a whole with the same purpose of bringing man to bear the divine image. The Son of God became man in order to make man sons of God.

While I certainly assert that one cannot understand the birth of Jesus without wrestling with his death, I also assert that one cannot understand his death without first wrestling with his birth. I often think that most of our Protestant “salvation” messages leave out the incarnation. We spend so much time on a conversion “moment” of forgiveness that we dulled the message of salvation to the sole purpose of forgiveness of sin. While forgiveness is important, we leave out the incarnational message of Christ. Mainly, salvation is about wholeness and renewed life, not just about the heaven beyond life. Or, if I may be so bold, it is all about heaven. It is about heaven meeting earth, it is about the eternal touching the temporal, it is about the divine life assuming human suffering. “Your will be done on earth as it is in Heaven.”

The incarnation puts into words the hope of our salvation: that we may be like Christ. The incarnation recognizes that peace is an alternate lifestyle. Christmas is a time to recognize that Christ’s birth is God identifying himself with man: the sinful, hurting, painful, suffering of humanity. This identity with man shows us not what is a distant potential but a coming, and already come, reality. We Christians live in this expectation, leaning into the future of love and peace as faithful witnesses to the Kingdom that Christ's birth brings. When we see replicas of baby Jesus in his manger full of hay, may we this year remember that the God-man does not merely offer us “a way around suffering, but a way through it; not substitution, but saving companionship” (Bishop Kallistos Ware of the Orthodox Church). I wonder if our salvation is found more in our relationship to the incarnational Christ (and to others) rather than some substitutional atonement. Perhaps salvation is found in the incarnation and resurrecting power of God while the cross actually becomes the way in which we are to live.

A Response to the Colorado Shootings

2007-12-11T12:05:00.000-06:00

“The church is God’s new will and purpose for humanity. God’s will is always directed toward the concrete, historical human being. But this means that it begins to be implemented in history. God’s will must become visible and comprehensible at some point in history.” – Dietrich Bonhoeffer

The other day a former YWAM (Youth with a Mission) participant was denied a place to stay in an Arvada YWAM office. He was denied. He killed two young adults during that confrontation. Later, the gunman killed two teenagers at New Life Church in Colorado Springs. He would have killed more if he hadn’t been shot himself by a security guard at the church who carries a gun (did I mention this was at a church?). She is being praised as a hero who did not falter when needing to kill one of God’s children saying, “God was with me.”

I am deeply saddened by the loss of life. The five deceased (including the gunman) were my age or younger. Such horrendous action surely is not the will of God. I grieve for their families and pray that God shows mercy and compassion. But I also grieve for the church. I am deeply perplexed that at the place where we practice the liturgy, the place where we learn what it is to be Christian, and the place where we recognize Jesus’ self-sacrifice against the dominant powers of this world (and our call to do the same) we are carrying the same weapons of the world. Not only that, but we are proclaiming the presence of God in such action. What happened to Jesus’ words of living and dying by the sword (or in this case a gun)? Jesus’ words to Peter were a lesson against the myth of redemptive violence. I am reminded of Shane Claiborne’s words when he writes, “When it comes to the world’s logic of redemptive violence, Christians have a major stumbling block on their hands- namely, the cross.”

This is hard to imagine. We are conditioned to think that one death (especially the death of a murderer) is better than having 100 others dead. But what if God doesn’t think the same way we do. We serve a God who is always creating, always imaginative, and as a result we are created also to always re-imagine. Perhaps Walter Wink is correct in saying that “violence is for those who have lost their imagination.” The first 300 years of Christianity were an intense time for a small band of Jesus followers. They would die by the packs. Their witness was a testimony of love in the face of evil, suffering as Christ suffered.

The question of our day, the context that we are in and have been in, revolves not around some post-9/11 worldview but rather, how do we live in the light of the teachings, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth. For sure, a truthful witness would have to deconstruct our views of war and poverty, violence and peace. So while America celebrates a hero, I wonder how faithful we are truly being to the peaceable Kingdom. I don’t have the answers. I do pray that we can begin to talk about what it means to walk like Jesus, to his death. Or, it might even be as easy as offering our hospitality, a place to stay for the night.

“Only by concentrating on Christ as its true and final end will the church give up its struggle to bring about the end prematurely and instead gladly give itself over to the long, patient labor of becoming a sacrament of Christ’s peaceable presence.” – Hauerwas

Visiting Chicago Theological Seminary

2007-12-06T10:19:00.000-06:00

Yesterday, Marcus, Joy, and I traveled to Chicago to visit Chicago Theological Seminary. We had meetings with the admissions office, financial aide, and were able to attend chapel and a class. We wanted to gain an understanding of what the seminary was all about. I’m looking at an M.Div., and Marcus was exploring the MA program.

There was a point during the chapel service to express joys and prayer requests. A blonde woman, probably in her upper 50’s, spoke up. “It’s been a hard 10 days.” Her sister was having some heart problems. Her heart rate was over 200 beats per minute. The doctors were saying they needed to shock her to stop it and start it again in the hopes that the irregularity would stop. This blonde woman explained to her sister, “They have done this sort of thing to Dick Cheney, and he came out alive. You will too. The only difference is that you have a bigger heart than Cheney.” Everyone in the chapel started to laugh. The undeniable jab at Cheney for his lack of compassion was obvious. As it turns out, this blonde woman happened to be Susan Brown Thistlethwaite, the President of CTS. Later that day we were able to meet and share a little bit of time at lunch with her. She was genuine in her remarks when she explained that CTS was a place not to just talk good rhetoric about justice and mercy, but it is truly a place where justice is manifested for the common good.

This rhetoric is what attracted me to CTS in the first place. Their devotion to justice and mercy and their boast of inter-faith relations intrigued me. After the admissions portion of the visit, I think we were all feeling good about the seminary. It is located in Hyde Park. It had just snowed the night before and continued to snow heavily throughout the day. It truly was beautiful. But as the day progressed, so did our impression of CTS. After spending some time with the students and taking the tour, we were all glad we came to visit. Obviously our time there was limited to get a full idea of what CTS is, how the community interacts, and the relationship between theology and ministry. However, though we are comfortable and even welcome more liberal ideas and people, there was an essence of being liberal for liberal’s sake. One phrase that stuck out to me was said during that first session, “We are not doctrinally bound. We teach you how to think, not what to think.” And yet, when I look at the course listings, the Biblical literature or exegesis classes had a certain agenda (it usually revolved around gender, sexual orientation, race, ethnicity, religious affiliation, and nationalism). The classes were built around the issues rather than focusing on the story and its practical interpretation (both for the people to whom it was original told/written and for us now). This is a very limited outlook. Obviously I have not taken these classes. I have only read the course description. However, it seemed like they were overemphasizing social spirituality and justice at the expense of the personal.

I long to study at a place that holds both the personal and the social, the individual and the corporate, and both justice and mercy as equally deserving and not mutually exclusive. I should here back from Duke any day.

Thoughts on "Performing the Faith: Bonhoeffer and the Practice of Nonviolence"

2007-11-30T10:37:00.000-06:00

“There can only be a community of peace when it does not rest on lies and injustice.”
-Bonhoeffer, “No Rusty Swords”

I’m reading a book entitled “Performing the Faith: Bonhoeffer and the Practice of Non-violence” by Hauerwas. I’m only through the first two chapters, which happen to be the only chapters solely dedicated to Bonhoeffer, but I am really enjoying it. Since I have no one with whom to discuss, I choose to write. I want to say that Bonhoeffer’s life was intriguing even without his theology, but one cannot seem to separate the way he lived from his theology. It is also clear that his theology was unfinished and from my limited knowledge, misunderstood. His disdain for institutional religion has been viewed as some as the beginning of the “Death of God” movement. Hauerwas asserts that this would cause Bonhoeffer great agony, but I digress: on to the book.

Hauerwas asserts that Bonhoeffer was devoted to “the visibility of the church amid the ruins of Christendom.” This visibility could only be established by the proclamation and living of the truth. In other words, the “community of peace” cannot rest on “lies and injustice.” The community of peace I am equating to the visible church and the lies parallels living in truthfulness.

It is interesting to see Bonhoeffer’s take on the American church. Not only does he condemn the “Protestant fugitives” who fled Europe to worship God in peace, thus foregoing suffering, but critiques the American church in saying that “they do not see the radical claim of truth on the shaping of their lives. Community is therefore founded less on truth than on the spirit of ‘fairness.’” One can wonder whether this derives from the political nature of democracy (which is built on compromise), but that is a different discussion. Hauerwas characterizes it this way, “Fairness, not truth, becomes the primary commitment necessary to sustain community for Americans.”

As it would go, our idea of peace is based upon a sort of tolerance, a “subordination of truth and justice” where peace is seen as the absence of conflict rather than the reality of the gospel. A peace brought by war is only an illusory peace, a peace that is brought by injustice. Can there be war without a form of injustice? The visible church expresses that the gospel is “not an answer to questions produced by human anxiety, but a proclamation of a ‘fact.’” Bonhoeffer brings together the reality of truth-living with the visible community of peace.

But is he clear as to what that ‘truth’ is? Some argue no, some say he promoted a type of situational ethic (brought to fruition through his plot to assassinate Hitler), and still others (others being Hauerwas in this book) say that Bonhoeffer did not see the significance of giving a ‘theory of truth’ but rather realizing that being truthful is something learned. Whatever Bonhoeffer meant, we know that our living truthfully had everything to do with our life in connection with God’s, our ability to express truth vitalized through the expression of reality, as it is in God. And one cannot grasp reality without the truthful witness of Jesus Christ. As it turned out, Bonhoeffer saw the terrible lie that was Hitler as starting with the inability of the church to speak truth effectively even in the little things. It begs the question of whether our churches are adequately speaking/living truth even in the little things. Hauerwas continues that “Bonhoeffer believed that the church is the sign that God has placed in the windows of the world to make possible a truthful politics.” Is the church now truly a visible witness or have we consigned ourselves to the storefronts of abandoned warehouses?

Democrat Primary Debate

2007-11-16T09:15:00.000-06:00

I started to get interested in the upcoming Presidential Election last Jan/Feb. when Barack Obama made an intent to run and started a huge grass roots campaign while not taking any money from special interest groups. I remember thinking last June that Clinton was unelectable. It has little to do with her being a woman than it does her being stuck in the democrat political machine. I enjoyed listening to John Edwards and his comments on the poor but his $400 haircut kind of turned me off to him. Three weeks ago a debate was held in Philadelphia. Clinton had a poor outing. It appeared that she was staged, gave pat answers, and proved to give inconsistent answers on certain issues. She started to drop in the polls and Obama seemed to be on a surge.

Another debate was held last night. I was very interested in it, so I went to a friends house and watched it with about 8 others. To be honest, it was a lackluster performance from the top three candidates. Clinton seems to have come ahead only because she didn't stumble. Obama and Edwards didn't seem to make up any ground because they didn't stand out. However, I think a few things are worth mentioning.

There was a question last night involving human rights and national security. The question asked, "Would you place our national security above human rights." Sen. Dodd and Sen. Clinton said similar things. The job of the President is to ensure the security of our own. We are to do this while upholding the Constitution. Later analysts said that Clinton was looking toward the general election against the Republicans so they couldn't use her response against her. (The Republicans seem to be big on national security above any rights of anyone). I thought Obama's answer was intriguing though. He didn't give a yes or no answer. This, in a debate, sometimes comes across as a weakness but I hope people were listening. He said he doesn't think that national security and human rights are necessarily incompatible. One doesn't need be to placed above the other. This logic seems to make sense to me. Right now the Bush administration has polarized America with his war agenda. Not only are we in an unjust war in Iraq, but there has been talk of military conflict with Iran as well (this would be a grave mistake). However, while we are killing in the middle-east we are neglecting other countries like the Sudan and Burma where vasts amounts of people are now left homeless, injured, orphaned, or dead (not to neglect the other 2 Billion people living on less than $2 a day). The world has seen our ugly foreign policy and our trampling of human rights in the middle-east and places like Guantanamo. Obama, I think, rightly associates the building and support of human rights not only because it is the right thing to do, but because as a result it will in turn make us more secure. If people aren't dying, if they have enough to eat, or even enough to live, they are less likely to harbor bitterness. Even more, America is even the cause of that bitterness in several instances. Jim Wallis writes in "God's Politics" that "the developed World will never be secure until the developing world also achieves some economic security." I think there is some truth found in that statement.

It is my hope that this kind of Politics becomes more evident. I hope that Obama's words are heard for what they are (Bill Richardson said something similar). I still think Clinton is unelectable. She may be ahead in the Democratic primaries but recent polls show that the vast majority of independents and republicans would not vote for her. On the other side, Obama holds the votes of more independents and even some moderate Republicans than any other candidate. Just words to think about.

Football and the Church

2007-11-08T09:48:00.000-06:00

I read an article yesterday on Adrian Peterson. He's a running back for the Minnesota Vikings. He's actually having a tremendous season. Just last week he ran for an NFL record for most yards in a single game (296). He's on pace to break the single season rushing record set by Eric Dickerson in the 80's. There are already talks of him being the best running back in the NFL at this moment, which is quite an accomplishment for being in the same league as Ladanian Tomlinson. Oh yeah, Adrian Peterson is a rookie. This is his first year in the NFL. The article was about Peterson's vision. What does he see to make him break the tackles that he does? Many have remarked that Peterson's vision is much like the great Walter Payton's. He doesn't see the tacklers, he only sees the goal line. In other words, he doesn't focus on making mistakes so much as he focuses on the purpose.

I wonder if this isn't anything like the church. I am a part of a Monday night group that meets together for a meal. We're all younger married couples that bring a meal, share our time and lives, and we read and discuss the Bible or another book. We're working on a book by a guy named Kinlaw. He once was the President of Asbury. I am not a big fan of the premise of the book, "How every person can have the Mind of Christ." It sounds too much like one of those "if you follow this book then you too can be holy" kind of things. (7 Steps to your Best Life Now). The second chapter talks about the difference between doing right and being righteous. I found it odd that the criteria for doing right was abstaining from alcohol, drugs, sexual promiscuity, smoking, and the like. In other words, doing right is not doing wrong. It sounds to me like we try so hard on avoiding sin that we miss the joy of Christ. It kind of makes me think that perhaps "doing right" is not in the things that we need to avoid but in the things that we as a church don't seem to actually do.

Matthew 25 gives a clear picture of what God desires. This chapter talks about the final judgment in terms of what we did or did not do for the Kingdom of God. It is very clear that Kingdom is more concerned about loving the sick, the dying, the poor, the outcast, the prisoner, and the single mothers than it is about the dangers of social drinking. I hope that we can start focusing on these purposes, and the joy that comes from being part of the Kingdom, rather than constantly getting bogged down by avoiding sin. It seems like a healthier way to live.

David Crowder

2007-10-18T10:12:00.001-05:00

It's been a while since I have posted last. A lot has happened. I spent a weekend in Indiana preaching at a youth retreat. I did a series on the Parable of the Compassionate Father (the Prodigal Son). I've been subsituting regularly. I am about done with my application to Duke. I visited Duke's campus a few weeks back and absolutely loved it. I should know by Christmas whether or not I have been accepted. So it's been a good few weeks.

I have the new David Crowder album. It's called "Rememdy." I have really enjoyed it, and Dave Crowder is one of the few Christian bands that impresses me with their creativity. The last song on the album I especially love. It's called "Surely we can change"; the lyrics go as follows...

Where there is pain, Let there be grace.
Where there is suffering, Bring Serenity
For those afraid, help them be brave
Where there is misery, Bring expectancy
And surely we can change, surely we can change
Something

I found myself praying these lines this morning, not only for my own life (surely I need grace and serenity), but also for those who are pained over lost families and homes. It was a prayer for peace where suffering is only known. It was for the children in Iraq, Darfur, and Burma who are alone and without a family. It is a prayer for those who know misery, that they might experience hope. And it ends with the thought that there is change, and we, as God's agents, are part of that change. May the God all comfort continue to comfort even now.

Suffering

2007-09-17T10:07:00.000-05:00

I have been struggling with the concept of suffering. How does it relate to the Christian lifestyle? How is it that I suffer, if I do suffer? Is it something physical or is it a "spiritual" suffering? (I don't like talking about the separation of physical and spiritual for fear of falling into some sort of Gnostic dualsim). How does my suffering relate to God and his suffering?

I'm not really sure where to go with this post. To be honest, I don't think that biblical suffering has much to do with a certain person that you don't get a long with or having a broken leg for 6 weeks. I am hoping that the two people who read it will comment with their thoughts. The prophets talked of a suffering Messiah, the One who must come, suffer, and die. Jesus talks about how the Son of Man must suffer to be lifted up. We are to follow Christ and his way. Are we not to assume that suffering will follow? And if it doesn't, am I truly following Christ? Phillipians talks of our imitation of Jesus, who lowered himself to be like us (which if you're God than becoming human is pretty incomprehensible). Upon lowering himself, he then went through ridicule, torture, resentment, and death. And we're to imitate that? Then there are Jesus' words spoken in John: (paraphrased) The World hates you. But it isn't a surprise because the world has hated me first. I am your master. If you truly follow me you will be persecuted as I am persecuted. You will be able to bear it though because I'm giving you a counselor. He will guide you into all truth and you will testify to the salvation and wholeness that I have brought to the world.

So, I am now living pretty comfortably. I live in a pagan nation but they don't care how I live as long as I don't frustrate their ends (which I think as Christians we sometimes need to frustrate). I haven't been thrown in jail (like Martin Luther King, Jr.) and I haven't been tortured (like the Korean missionaries taken hostage by the Taliban). How is it that I am following Jesus? Should suffering be something that we seek, or if we truly follow the way of the Master, is it something that comes? Are we willing to deal with the life of a true Christian?

God suffers. He has to suffer. We not only realize the divine suffering in Jesus but we see his anguish throughout history. Grief, sorrow, and anger are outpourings of His love. Can we truly love without suffering? Jeremiah saw God's heart and wept. Jesus wept over Jerusalem before its destruction longing for the people he loved. Grief gives way to suffering which is a result of love. Paul writes about us being heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ. If God truly suffers because of our brokenness and separation, should we not also suffer by grieving with that same compassionate heart? I would suspect that this type of suffering would work at bringing us to solidarity with the poor, downtrodden, and oppressed people of the world. When I read the gospel account of Jesus, I see his heart associated with this group of people.

These are just simple musings that I've been thinking. Hopefully they will lead to some sort of contemplation, and perhaps some action.

In-School Suspension

2007-09-08T12:35:00.000-05:00

I’m writing this while at work. I have decided to take the year off from school and save in order to afford graduate work next year and the years to follow. In the mean time, I am a substitute teacher in Bourbonnais, Bradley, and Kankakee. I’m at my second day of work. It is only the beginning of the school year, but hopefully this will turn into an every day thing.

Today is weird. I’m at the Bourbonnais Upper Grade School. The school districts are unlike anything I’ve seen before. This school is only grades 7-8. There is another school that is just grades 5-6. All of the middle grade levels in Bourbonnais and Bradley feed into one high school. I am only substituting for grades 5 and above. I did high school last week and today I am in the Upper Grade school.

This is the weirdest position imaginable. I am actually sitting in as the teacher for in-school suspension. I figured that this day would be about 15 kids that would be somewhat hard to control. There are two kids: a seventh grade boy and an eighth grade girl. The office said that this is a large group for this early in the year. Justin got in a fight with a kid who decided not to fight back. Shane is here because she decided she didn’t like her math teacher and walked out of school. A returning field trip saw her out of class and she was caught. Who just walks out? I understand that happening in high school when you are more independent and can drive, but this is eighth grade. I find this somewhat amusing. There cool kids though, and I’ve found that as long as I treat them fairly and with respect they also respect me.

Just a side note, I changed my background picture from Joy and I’s footprints on the beaches in Mexico to a wedding photo of both of us. I started smiling and Shane asked why. I showed her the picture and asked if that was my wife. I smiled and said yes. So she bluntly says, “Oh, I thought you were gay.” She continues to explain that all the in-school suspension teachers are homosexual and she assumed that I was like the others. My first reaction to such a question was a resounding no, followed by a quick thought of whether I actually appear homosexual, and finally to thinking about the audacity to say to her teacher that she thought he was gay. I don’t think I’ve ever come off as gay. I’ve been hit on by a male before, but it was in high school and it was more of a show than an actual attraction. That’s neither here nor there, but part of the happenings of the day.

So my duties today consist of monitoring. They shouldn’t talk, sleep, draw, or do anything that doesn’t relate to school. I walk them to the bathroom and give them 40 minutes for lunch. I sit here and read, write on my blog (except I don’t have the internet so I’m writing it out on a word document), and am listening to Bright Eyes. I played mancala on my computer, did a sudoku puzzle, and read a little from my ESPN magazine. Oh yeah, I’m getting paid for this.

President's Dinner

2007-08-26T17:49:00.000-05:00

I went to the President’s Dinner the other night. My wife is a Resident Director with the University, and as a result, we were invited to join Dr. Bowling and his wife for an intimate evening among 800 other staff and faculty members. I felt a little underdressed in my button up shirt and kahki pants. However, I didn’t care too much. I am always intrigued by these kinds of events. It was somewhat reminiscent of a homecoming. Everyone sees each other after going through a period of not seeing each other, and it’s really quite nice. The thing that gets me though is the amount of pride that Chalfant hall seemed pregnant with that evening. Which is all well and good (it was quite humorous to hear everyone bellow our boring Alma Mater). There is nothing wrong with feeling a sense of honor towards one’s university. We see it every weekend of college sports, every homecoming, and apparently at President dinners too. But something seemed a little off. Let me explain.

Olivet has a number of singing groups. One in particular is the “Olivetians.” They are the premiere group that seems hand picked as the best singers and representative “models” of the Olivet community. They are the ones sent to churches and doing PR and stuff. They don’t ever seem to sing songs that college students actually enjoy, but older Nazarenes love them. At any rate, they closed with a song about God’s holiness, exalting his name. Adoration and praise is something that we ought to give God. He is truly the only One worthy of the name Lord, and the only One who is holy. So they sing these verses and lead into the chorus singing, “So I only want to tell you I love You.” It’s got a catchy tune and the orchestral arrangement was done so that it would grip the heart of the audience (you know, the booming bass line during certain words, the key change: it was written musically to invoke passion). And I could only sit there and think to myself, “We’re only telling God I love you? Does God really want us to sit here and tell him that, or go and show him that we love him?” I remembered Jesus talking to Peter and asking Peter that question: Do you love me. And Peter says of course, and Jesus responds “Then feed my sheep.” The scripture continues with several like phrases of showing compassion as the way in which we show love. Basically, loving God is not telling God we love him; it’s loving our neighbor.

I was explaining this to my wife on a walk the other night. I happened to be talking about the contradictory statements that I had noticed in the speech that evening. It was the normal stuff that I always seem to notice. The fact that Olivet is said to be missional and a model for the disciple of Jesus while building a 22 million dollar chapel strikes me as a bit odd, especially considering Jesus’ words throughout the gospels. Joy then told me that she doesn’t think I will ever be able to commit to any institution because they are not, in my eyes, “perfect.” She continued that it was as if I had a pre-conceived notion of what things ought to be like, and if it wasn’t that, I could only sit there and criticize.

I have struggled with this concept before. I believe that the Kingdom of God is here and yet to come. It is here in the sense that Jesus has made it readily available for us to be a part of, live, breathe, and act upon. Jesus, as a proclaimer of this message, not only taught it, but fully embodied it and passed it on to his Church to proclaim and embody: to live out. This Kingdom is the reality that the church lives by: to seek justice, proclaim mercy, and walk humbly with God. Unfortunately, we also live with the tension of our humanness. Occasionally (or quite often), this nature has a way of weeding itself into the realm of Kingdom living. Sometimes it’s quite obvious (history can point to the Crusades, the Inquisition, or colonialization: which all seem to have their root in the compromise of religion with the state). However, more often than not it creeps up unbeknownst to most: selfishness, pride, indignation, resentment, poor stewardship. It’s so sneaky sometimes that we hardly even notice that certain elements (certainly not all) are masquerading as Kingdom elements.

My wife might be right to a certain extent. I do pick out and criticize the institution for their flaws. This goes for the church, university, or even small group bible studies. To her, I see the flaw instead of the diamond. And, it’s a completely legitimate concern. I guess that she sees me longing for perfection when perfection so easily evades. However, I do not think that I am so far off. I may criticize (perhaps a little too often), but my criticism is out of a love for the Church as the primary mode that God has chosen to do his work. While the University is not a church, by claiming Christianity it is inherently a part of its work, and therefore God’s Kingdom.

I was a little hurt by Joy’s comments on that walk. I wasn’t hurt necessarily by what she said, nor by her speaking her mind, but rather of the small glimpse that we still have a lot to learn of each other. I am committed to the church. I am a harsh critic, but I still long to be part of a community that together seeks and proclaims God’s Kingdom, here and to come. These were the very issues that I wrestled with when seeking ordination. I finally realized that while the church has its faults, it is still God’s church, and I am God’s.

So, now I need to practice all the stuff I talk about: justice, mercy, and humility. So I embark on that journey with millions of others who are also trying to live a different kind of life.

A New Book

2007-07-31T12:39:00.001-05:00

I am currently reading a book entitled Mere Discipleship. The author, Lee Camp, was a student under John Howard Yoder at Notre Dame. The book developed out of a sense of need for a “Yoderian ‘Mere Christianity.’” Basically, it is a popularized Politics of Jesus. I read Politics over Christmas and have been reading similar books and articles since. It is interesting to see an insurgency of theology based upon the Kingdom of God in relation to the social systems of culture. While I agree with most of these authors, Yoder, Camp, Hauerwas, and Rodney Clapp, I am starting to think about how this theology is actually practiced in a church. Maybe it’s because I have attended churches that have a conversion based theology (which presents itself more readily acceptable to certain Gnostic tendencies), but I have not experienced the Church that Camp and Yoder have explained. I believe it exists, but so far, with few exceptions, it seems to only exist in the mind of its adherents.

I feel as if I am being too vague. “This” is referring to a broader all encompassing purpose of God where church and even religion are not God’s goal or intended end. The church is merely a means to bringing about God’s Kingdom: the embodiment of God’s will. In actuality, the church is supposed to be the incarnation of such a will. A divine will made known by an accepting, loving, and reconciling God who breaks us of our addictions, binds us together in fellowship, and not only atones (pardons our evil) but frees us from it as well. The Kingdom is a coming and present reality of love, peace, justice, and communion. Camp explains it this way, “Church is, in other words, simply a community of disciples, gathered together to order their lives according to the will of their Lord who lives still in their midst.” The Church is God’s primary venue of bringing about his Kingdom, and if his Kingdom truly embodies peace and justice, should not the Church also proclaim peace and justice?

To think about the Kingdom as an actual social entity may be strange for some. But when we think about the way in which Jesus taught, the words he used, and the life he lived, the Kingdom cannot be taken any other way. When Jesus prayed “Your Kingdom come” he prayed for the Kingdom to become “on earth” what God intended it to be all along, what it is “in heaven.” If you think about church, we already are forming a separate society, though perverted, still unique. We have formed our own lingo (sin, atonement, Born Again, converted, saved), our own practices (Eucharist, tithing, baptism), and ultimately our own culture (though many times polarizing ourselves from everyone else). One of the problems with the modern interpretation of the gospel revolves around the individualism that pervades our culture and ultimately our churches. Consumer driven capitalism has made it easy to get what I want, when I want, and how I want it. I want to be rich, buy a big house in the suburbs, take care of my family, and live my life. And yet this pervasive narcissistic culture has had more influence on the church than the church has had on the world. I want my sins taken care of so I can go to heaven and ultimately I can be happy. Christianity has been at best a nice treatment of psychotherapy. Forget that the way of Jesus is the way of a cross. I happen to like the Americanized Jesus better: a morale booster and money promoter.

We then read the actual gospel account about a man who told the rich to sell all they have, give to the poor, and follow me on the road to the cross. Perhaps when Jesus said ‘I am the Way’ he meant that in order to be reconciled to the Father, you must follow my way of life and not just arbitrarily accept his death as permission to live how you want. In other words, Jesus’ healing of the sick, compassion for the poor, forgiveness for the adulterer, and love for our enemies is a way of life, the way of the Kingdom. A military chaplain once said that “chaplains are not on military bases to bear witness to theological convictions, but to serve the military establishment: what was desired [of military chaplains] was a morale officer.” The Kingdom of God is a social entity that beckons us to order or even change our allegiances.

What happens when the allegiance of our nation-state clashes with our Allegiance to God and his Kingdom? Sadly, we Americans have accepted the powers of this world (money, prestige, and even war) as if we were promoting the powers of God. How can we bring about God’s Kingdom by using the weapons of hell? The end becomes the only factor of our morality. Who cares how we do it, as long as peace wins in the end. A United States Senator once wrote that “God almighty in his infinite wisdom [has] dropped the atomic bomb in our lap….[W]ith vision and guts and plenty of atomic bombs,…[we] can compel mankind to adopt a policy of lasting peace…or be burned to a crisp.” Does anyone see the irony of this statement? Now we’re stuck with thousands of nuclear weapons while we try to keep other nations from developing any. It is no wonder the world hates us.

Some evangelical Christians still assume that America is actually a type of new Israel: that America will be the nation that brings about God’s purposes. I recently watched some religious programming and was quite frustrated when I heard that the first established English colony was being viewed as a divine mandate that established America as a “Christian nation.” I then look at history and see that this colony (Jamestown) was actually a royal charter colony with the sole purpose of bringing in revenue. They expected Mayan gold and were willing to pillage and destroy to get it. To their surprise, mosquito-ridden swamps replaced gold and a large agriculturally based Indian Kingdom thrived. Within 10 years the Indians had either been forced off their land or killed. Now if this is truly a divine mandate I would not want to serve that divine lord. All this to say, it is a dangerous thing to assume that God has taken sides with a certain nation-state. To wage war as the world does, one assumes that God’s way is not good enough. It simply is not a worthy social ethic. If we were to actually love our enemies we would be destroyed, so we must do things the way the world does.

This is a pretty significant rationale. Such thinking makes it very easy to fall into a type of reductionist theology: Christianity and discipleship is reduced to a strictly ‘spiritual’ state of my soul. As long as my soul is right with God that is all that matters. Christianity then would have no bearing on culture, society, or social systems. I’m forgiven and ‘heaven bound.’ The only reason I’m on this earth is to get more people into heaven with me. Forget the holistic redemption that comes with the Kingdom: the sick, homeless, poor, less fortunate, and oppressed.

So now I’m back to thinking what this would look like in an actual church. What would happen if our teaching changed to fewer ‘altar calls’ and more compassion? What if Christians started to pray and support those in war torn nations and worked toward reconciliation through peaceful agendas? What if the first thing a homosexual thought about a Christian was that he was loved? What if church actually became something that was embodied on an every day basis rather than on a Sunday morning? What if tithing was actually practice for giving to others throughout the week? Obviously this not only takes a change heart and mind, but a change in action too. It might actually cost something to be a Christian. But that would only fulfill Jesus’ calling of counting the cost before following Him. Bonhoeffer once wrote that “Christianity without discipleship is always Christianity without Christ.”

Decisions

2007-07-20T14:21:00.000-05:00

So this entire year I have been intending on taking Master classes for the next year. I graduated in the Spring and have already taken 4 credit hours toward a Master of Arts in Religion. I have also intended to pursue a degree in Divinity after this next year. I am living in Bourbonnais because of convenience. It seemed like hell to go a year without taking classes. However, with the expensive tuition of Divinity school in the future and the luxury of not paying rent or food for the next year, Joy and I are in a great position to start saving. The M.A.R really won't do much. I like the idea of holding two master degrees, and I do have a fellowship towards it, but it doesn't cover half of what we would owe. On top of this, I have been waiting to hear back about a possible GA position with the school. I'm praying this weekend to figure out what I should do. It's a harder decision than I would like to admit. I've been in school my whole life and actually spending a year without would be almost as big of a step as getting married (which I'm LOVING). Anyway, decisions, decisions.

God Outside the Church

2007-07-12T16:18:00.000-05:00

I wrote this last summer when I was a waiter and working at transfer admissions. I was reading over some stuff that I had written and thought this warranted a second look. So, this is me a year ago:

I am working two jobs. The first one consists of filing, processing data applications, and organizing. It pays 6.75 an hour for 35 hours a week. My second job pays 3.90 an hour and upon leaving the first job I go to the second job to work nights. It’s not overtly exciting. It’s a pizza restaurant. We have our busy days and our off days. They don’t work around my schedule very well, and the owner’s are very rarely positive people. Weekend tips are decent but I find weekdays to almost be a waste of my time in terms of monetary gain. It’s a stressful atmosphere with a lot of tense people working behind a mask of “pleasing the customer.” To be honest, the job sucks up my time and my energy. I went a week without spending any time with my fiancée. But I thank God for this opportunity.

Last week we had a server meeting. It lasted a drudging three hours. I’m not quite sure how I stayed awake, but it probably had something to do with being terminated. (Servers were fired if they didn’t come to this meeting). At this meeting, we discussed such issues as washing your hands, how to dress, how often to shave, and teamwork. Apparently there are times where servers will fight over who gets the table. It’s not what you think. They will fight not to get the table. This brought about the manager saying that the customers are the ones who give us money. They are the ones who tip us and give us our income. We should want to serve them. The whole time I’m thinking, “Well, yeah that makes sense. Tell me something new.” But Jenny, the manager, went as far as to say that we shouldn’t see them as people or customers but should diminish them to little five and ten dollar bills running around the store waiting to be found. I understood her point, and as much as I wanted to scream out against the capitalist notion of people being worth only what they have, I stayed quiet.

You see, I applied and interviewed for this job with the intent of making money. It was what I needed and still need. However, my mindset has begun to change. In the four weeks of working at Aurelio’s, I have felt more challenged and more stretched in my spiritual walk than I have in a while. I am starting to see that I am truly a “server.” This term goes far beyond serving the customer, though I do pray they see a certain joy in the act of bringing their food and clearing dirty dishes. There is something at Aurelio’s that I have not seen in 3 years: that I have not had in 3 years. I am working with people who do not confess Christ.

Somewhere in between leaving high school and entering a Christian University, I have lost any connection I may have had with those outside “the Church.” It’s weird to think that I am in a program geared towards ministry, and yet I have not contact with those to whom I am to be ministering. How am I to assess culture and the state of living if I do not live and breathe from within that community? Surely Olivet does not reflect the norm of society. I’ve heard and seen people leave and are shell shocked when they don’t have the “protection” from the world that Olivet so willingly gives. But now I find myself once again out in the world, and I find myself accepted. Somehow, and in some way, we students at Olivet are under the impression that those non-Christians don’t want anything to do with us. They think we’re weird, fanatics, too conservative, or just plain not any fun. Is this not what we hear about in our youth groups and see in an underlying tone in chapel? Give me a break! They are people just like us with dreams, ambitions, insecurities, and a longing to be not only “loved” but actually liked. I think there may be a difference between evangelical love: which seems to lean toward “share the good news of Jesus’ death to as many people as possible in the hopes that we can scare them out of hell and into heaven.” It seems to me that that is salvation “from” something rather than salvation “into.” One is exclusive and the other is inclusive. Jesus not only loved, but cared and liked. His love and soteriology (philosophy of salvation) revolved around being inclusive.

The truth of the matter in working at Aurelio’s is that I want those I work with to come to know Christ for who He is. I can not escape Jesus’ mission of making disciples. But I think that when it comes to sharing that good news, we must first start by truly loving, caring, and serving. I am not ostracized as I thought I might be, but instead am accepted by them and they have invited me as a friend. As a result, I have begun to see how God has been working in their lives even outside of the Church. And it has been my prayer that they may also see God through me. That is why I thank God for this opportunity.

Shalom,
Eric

Spears into Pruning hooks

2007-07-06T13:48:00.000-05:00

After sharing a blog with some other friends and not posting for a year, I decided that I would once again attempt this internet blog thing. Really, I think I am going to use this more as a personal discipline than anything else. The truth is that I have never been good at writing my thoughts but have always enjoyed the idea of writing them out. So without any further glorification, I present...

Pruning Spears:
The past year has proved to be an exciting time for me. Theologically, I have been formed more than any other time. My conservative Nazarene roots have been challenged in a way that make my parents scratch their heads, my college want to fine me, and my home district reject my application for a District Pastors license. Some say I have no bearing on reality while others say I need to mature. And I am OK with both assesments. I see a different reality than most of the world: one that notices a need of reconciliation while seeing the holistic redemption associated with the God of love. I also see a need to mature. If I were to assume that maturity has ended, I would assume completeness and would have successfully eluded both.

The Name and address of this blog is taken from a passage in Isaiah. It's from the second chapter and looks toward a new way in which God is continually creating. In this particular scripture, Isaiah recognizes the tension between the world and what God is doing in the World. He sees where God is going and points us to work within that goal. Verse 3 connotes God teaching his people to be like himself: follow the Lord "that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths." Verse 4 then gives us a picture not only of God's Kingdom but what it looks like to be a part of it. "He shall judge between the nations, and shall arbitrate for many peoples; they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up a sword against nation, neither shall they learn war anymore."

I feel as if I have moved from an outside observer of Christian Pacifism to one who claims Jesus' way of non-violent resistance. So far it's been pretty easy. I haven't been attacked and I am not personally involved in any wars. No one has threatened my life. Honestly, it's not hard to claim pacifism when the wars are happening elsewhere. It makes me wonder about the "what if's" of raising a family (I was just married this year) or if I would be able to forgive a man on death row who has hurt one close to my heart. The fact that I have not experienced such atrocities (for this I thank God) does not warrant a change in my theological claims. I trust that making the decision now to live within a prayerful Kingdom community will guide me into truth if such things occur. Martin Luther King, Jr. helped subdue racism through non-violent resistance, Tutu helped save a nation from apartheid with limited violence, and Dorothy Day helped revive a Christian spirit within Catholicism.

I have to work at this. I am continually "pruning my spears" to subdue the evil tendencies that arise from my humanness. This blog will hopefully be more than just dissertations on my political positions. I want it to show who I am and who I am becoming. It will be filled with stories of struggle and joy as well as love and heartache. We live with these tensions and hopefully it will be fun to see where they lead.