Occasio

Twenty years after Rodney King and that other guy

On April 29, 1992, Los Angeles exploded with violence, and the police department all but abandoned the riotous city. I was in inner-city LA just two weeks before the riots. I was leading a group of teens from my church on an urban immersion. This wasn’t a “mission trip.” We were there to learn about the city and to talk with ministry leaders. The result of that trip was the same as every other Los Angeles immersion I’ve led in the past twenty years: my students are amazed to find that God is already in the city, that they don’t have to bring him there and that he is actively moving in the lives of city dwellers.

But the trip we took over the Easter break in 1992 was different. I remember thinking that the air was volatile, filled with hostility. While walking through the Pico Union district, near MacArthur Park, our group (including me and six white teens) was stopped by the LAPD in the heart of the infamous Rampart Division. “Do you know where you are? What are you doing here?” we were asked through the open window of a police cruiser. I told the officer we were doing church work and we knew exactly where we were. Stopping short of telling us that white people didn’t belong in that neighborhood, he warned us to be careful and sped away.

A short time after we left LA, the verdict of the Rodney King trial was announced. King, an African American man, was the victim of a brutal police beating that was filmed by a bystander and then played on news shows around the world. I remember watching that horrible beating on television again and again. The four officers, three white and one Hispanic, were acquitted. Shortly after the verdict was read, members of the African American community began marching through the streets of Los Angeles, many armed, all angry, thus beginning five days of rioting.

But there was another man that many of us have forgotten about. Reginald Denny, a white truck driver, was also a victim of the riots. I remember seeing it live on TV. Denny was stopped by the rioters at the intersection of Florence and Normandie, and was pulled out of his truck. He was beaten badly by the African American crowd and left convulsing on the street. Denny was rescued by Bobby Green, an African American man who saw the attack unfolding as a news helicopter broadcast it live. Denny never fully recovered from the beating.

My close friend, Tim Peters, was living in a dilapidated SRO hotel in the heart of the rioting. He was the only white man in a building full of African Americans and Hispanics that were technically considered homeless. But Tim had lived there quite a while and was known as “Pastor Tim,” the guy who led kids clubs, helped the poor and brought church groups to live in the hotel. “Stay in your room, Tim,” came the instruction from the other hotel residents. “We got your back.” Tim remembers seeing fires burning and military helicopters flying down the streets between the high-rise office buildings. Pretty crazy for a farm boy from Hillsboro, Kansas!

Tim told me that many people offered him loot from their sorties into the surrounding shops. Hotel residents were coming home with televisions, VCRs, and other bounty. Tim politely declined, offering instead an alternate narrative of peace and justice. Another thing that most people never realized about the riots: Tim personally witnessed many in the community feeling remorse for their actions and actually returning items they had stolen. I guess that doesn’t make for exciting news.

One more oddity of the riots I remember. While this has often been interpreted as a racial war between blacks and whites, it was actually the Korean American businesses that were most badly looted and damaged. In response, armed militias of Korean Americans formed to protect their storefronts. On my next trip down to LA, I witnessed block after block of Korean businesses that had burned to the ground.

What happened in Los Angeles in 1992 was so much bigger than the Rodney King verdict. Every time I drive through the intersection of Florence and Normandie with a van full of college students, I tell them about King and Denny (they don’t know the story of the riots anymore), and I lament the complexity of a system that continues to perpetuate racial divides of all kinds. Systemic injustices will never been solved or compensated with a court verdict (as was demonstrated again in the OJ Simpson tiral in 1995 and will again, undoubtedly, be demonstrated in the Trayvon Martin case in the coming year). We are part of systems that do not have “right” answers.

So what am I to do? When faced with racial injustice, I have to continually ask questions like, “How might God’s love be demonstrated here? What is the most Christ-like thing to do? What will the Spirit open my eyes to see in new ways?” Hopefully, prayerfully, my small moves will work together with others to change and influence the principalities and powers that reign with such a tight grip over all of us.

Of course, I write this as a privileged white male. It’s always easy to be theologically glib when in control of the systems.

Another viral video, KONY 2012

It seems a bit odd that my last post, which received thousands of hits and was carried by the Mennonite Weekly Review and a number of blogs, was about a viral video. It’s no coincidence that this post, too, is about another viral video. The internet certainly has made it easy to communicate about passionate interests, and people seem ready to access these hyper-popular issues in an age where news and information are turned on and off like a sitcom.

A number of friends and colleagues have entered the discussion about the KONY 2012 video campaign sponsored by Invisible Children, and while some have stood on one side or the other of the debate, many still have pretty big questions about whether this is a good or bad thing that IC is doing.

So, for what it’s worth, here are a few thoughts I have had about the latest story to set the internet ablaze.

• Issues that involve international politics, human rights, regional fighting, and religious conflict are always complex. There are rarely “right” and “wrong” answers. Yet, we Western middle-class modernists want easy answers in our drive-through culture of immediate gratification. We have become conditioned to thirty-second sound bites of yes/no, on/off, for/against, black/white, right/wrong solutions. The modern mind, with its love for the easily quantifiable, defaults to simplistic categories that offer only two possible outcomes. This bifurcation of culture doesn’t allow for the complexities of difficult and historic contexts. To say that KONY 2012 is right or wrong is reductionist at best, and disastrously harmful and neglectful of a multitude of real issues involving real people at worst. (See Rachel Held Evan's post for a broad discussion)


• The KONY 2012 campaign has once again raised the issue of child well-being across the globe, and specifically in Africa. While the awareness this has created is good and has appealed to a younger audience, the sad news is that that abuse of children is nothing new and is a major violation of human rights throughout the planet. It’s estimated that over a quarter of a million children in more than twenty countries are currently conscripted into serving as soldiers in armed conflicts. But there is a much more insidious use of children that is quietly accepted throughout the West. Millions of children never go to school and are forced to work in industries that benefit first world nations. In Africa, children are used to mine the gold, silver and diamonds that we find so precious (see Leonardo DiCaprio’s Blood Diamond as one example). The soccer ball that my son plays with is likely made by children in China. Cocoa farms on the Ivory Coast use child slaves to produce the Halloween candy we hand out to the neighbors every October. Coffee beans in Columbia? Children. Brand name blue jeans? Children. That popular iDevice? Children. Add to that an endless list of products that we Americans love, and an ever-bustling trade of global child trafficking, and the atrocities of child abuse are much larger than a viral video campaign. (See the Slavery Footprint website to calculate the number of slaves that you own)


• I don’t really have a problem with the organization Invisible Children. They have done a fine job creating awareness of global injustices. However, those who donate to this organization must understand one important aspect: your money is not going to people in Africa. IC won’t deny this. As an advocacy group (unlike a charity), IC uses contributions to create awareness. While a small percentage of donations will actually end up on the ground, most will be used to create structures that get their message out (i.e. video productions, billboards, radio antennae in Africa to broadcast their message). If you want your money to be directly spent on the underprivileged of a third world country, use a reputable charity like World Vision, Bread for the World, Compassion Int’l, MCC and so many others. If you’re comfortable supporting IC’s awareness agenda, your money will probably be used to generate more advocacy programs. (See Invisible Children's website for a “What We Do” statement)


• Whenever I hear conflicting reports about an agency’s work in a foreign country, I’m more likely to believe the people who live in the country rather than the agency’s own promoters. Herein lies another huge issue related to international aid. We Americans consistently go into very complex foreign contexts with our packages of aid and solutions to the “poor African’s” problems. It’s a top-down approach without regard for culture or context. We believe, either motivated by guilt or by duty or by entrepreneurial opportunities, that our role is to “fix” what is broken. Unfortunately, we continue to proliferate the imperialism of Kipling’s “White Man’s Burden” first published in 1899. I am deeply suspicious and cautious of any organization that seeks to provide aid to and advocacy for a cross-cultural context when that agency does not first and foremost seek to partner with and learn from the culture it desires to help. The history of Western countries is replete with stories when “helping” actually led to unintended hurt.


• I’ll say what I’ve said before: social media is great for spreading awareness and generating conversation, but it does not equal activism. Many of the desperate situations mentioned above will not be solved with the overthrow of a particular leader, an infusion of funds or the good intentions of people thousands of miles away. The child-soldiers of Uganda do not need your prayers (alone). Praying is a convenient way for Christians to opt out of the larger need: systemic change. When I buy a shirt from Target, chocolate from Nestles or a ring from Rogers Jewelers, I participate in the systemic injustices that so dominates the culture in which I live. It seems almost impossible to imagine another narrative. Yet, that’s precisely what the Gospel calls us to do. Jesus preached forgiveness, but also freedom from oppression, sight for the blind, and justice for the prisoner. Echoing the Old Testament prophets, James said, “Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world” (James 1:27). And again, “If anyone, then, knows the good they ought to do and doesn’t do it, it is sin for them” (James 4:17). I’m glad we’re all discussing these important issues via social media (we wouldn’t likely be having this conversation without Facebook), but to let it stop there might be worse than not having the conversation at all.

For those of you who have read this far, and for those who may be a bit disturbed by this whole Kony thing, I have good news. Give it a week or two and we’ll be on to the next viral video highlighting another global crisis. (Will it be an earthquake? tsunami? famine? war? recession? Or will it be about a surfing dog or a high school girl singing of her plans for Friday?) You probably won’t even remember Kony and the child soldiers in a few days. That’s the upside about living in an isolated individualistic Western culture that primarily gets its news from social media. Ignorance is bliss.

“Oh, don't worry about it. As soon as you step outside that door, you'll start feeling better. You'll remember you don't believe in any of this fate crap. You're in control of your own life, remember? Here, take a cookie. I promise, by the time you're done eating it, you'll feel right as rain.” -The Oracle to Neo in The Matrix.

It's a new world...

Anabaptism for the twenty-first century

Today I had the amazing privilege of participating in an historic event. As chair of the division of Biblical and Religious Studies at Fresno Pacific University I represented our department in the dedication of the Center for Anabaptist Studies. The purpose of this Center is to research, teach and envision how the original Anabaptist movement of the sixteenth century might influence and inform our theology and churchly practice in the twenty-first century.

These are my people. This is my tradition. This radical wing of the Reformation was neither Protestant nor Catholic. Harold Bender reminds us in his book The Anabaptist Vision that it was a movement of priests and peasants who centered their understanding of God’s kingdom in three things: discipleship, community and the way of peace. For this they were hunted, persecuted and martyred.

Dr. Valerie Rempel gave an inaugural address in which she provided a concise definition of Anabaptism and offered a rationale for the founding of the Center. Here is an excerpt from her presentation.

In the 16th Century, some of the greatest theological minds of that era began to read the Bible in new ways. The text itself hadn’t changed but because of their experience in the Roman Catholic church, their own study of the scripture and, I have to believe, the work of the Holy Spirit in their lives, they began to develop a new understanding of God’s grace and free offer of salvation. Among those who were committed to reforming the church were those who wanted more than reform – they wanted to restore the kinds of communities described in the New Testament. These were the men and women who became known as the Anabaptists. Many of them lost their lives because of their witness to a new way.

Anabaptists were radical Bible readers at the core. They understood the reign of God to be centered in the church rather than the state, and believed that the body of Christ was to give visible witness to its proper citizenship. They saw themselves as present-day disciples of Jesus and because of that, they gave special weight to Jesus’s teaching – to his invitation to live generous lives, to his call for love of enemies, to his encouragement to participate in God’s work of healing and justice and hope. They formed voluntary churches based on an adult confession of faith. They practiced mutual aid. They practiced church discipline.

As spiritual descendants of those early radicals, these ideas have informed our theological tradition and our church practices. But, nearly 500 years later, we live in a very different period of time. Separation between church and state has morphed from a theological idea about proper allegiances, to a political idea embedded in a constitution. Old enemies – church bodies that persecuted early Anabaptists, are now brothers and sisters in common endeavors – mission enterprises, community development projects, health and human service ministries, and educational programs. We are witnessing the demise of Christendom, a political and cultural reality that privileged Christianity but also invited, indeed welcomed, compromise. In its place is an increasingly secularized society and an increasingly secularized church.

I believe that this is a time that calls for radical Bible reading. The text hasn’t changed – but the times we live in have and they call us to re-engage with God’s Word and with our own theological tradition to see how it can offer us wisdom for living as Christians in our world and for engaging in mission that invites all people to become followers of Jesus and children of God.

I, too, believe that Anabaptism is a viable and relevant option for our postmodern, post-Christendom culture. In an age when people are increasingly skeptical of a superficial gospel that amounts to nothing more than “fire insurance” from the “flames of Hell,” the call to discipleship is compelling and authentic. As people face the crushing and dehumanizing consequences of individualism, the call to community is meaningful. As people recognize the failure of war and militarism to bring about positive change, the call to a way of peace is hopeful. This is the time to dream dreams and allow the Spirit to move us in ways that are often counter to the culture we inhabit. And a re-envisioned Anabaptism gives us the theology, history and tradition from which we can engage the new world around us.

Another quote from Dr. Rempel:

I want the Center to be a place that encourages our own tradition – the Mennonite Brethren church that gave birth to the University and the Seminary – to reclaim its theological heritage. The question of allegiance – to God or to the state – has not gone away. We, too, struggle with an increasingly secularized society and its impact on the church. It is difficult for us to resist the lure of a consumer society – to live lives of simplicity and generosity. Too often, we find ourselves fighting over how God accomplished the work of salvation through Jesus, rather than joining together to proclaim the message that Jesus does indeed save and that through him, people and communities can be transformed. We need active imaginations that can envision ways for our congregations to live out their calling to be the body of Christ and we need the courage to lead.

My people died at the hands of their persecutors for these beliefs. They would not claim allegiance to the state. They would not take up arms against the enemies of the state. They would not baptize their children, but rather chose adult confession of faith. They would not coerce anyone to join them. They were, however, a people of discipleship, community and peace, committed to the Sermon on the Mount. For this they died.

Particularly thrilling today, was when I got to hold a copy of a 263-year-old book. This book, The Martyrs Mirror, is a collection of stories chronicling the deaths of an untold number of Anabaptist martyrs. First published in 1660, the copy that I held was printed in 1748. Documented as the largest book to be printed in Colonial America, and older than the Declaration of Independence, the book before me held story after story of people who sacrificed everything to be a part of this radical way of life.

One of the most famous stories tells of the Anabaptist Dirk Willems. Dirk had the opportunity to flee his captors, but as he ran across a frozen lake he suddenly heard the cries of his pursuer. Dirk’s would-be-captor had fallen through the ice and was certain to be drowned. In an act of compassion, Dirk rescued his pursuer, was recaptured and later burned at the stake.

These are my people. I am very proud to be a founding partner in the Center for Anabaptist Studies. I believe that God has a great and vibrant future for us as we bear witness to his Son through the ongoing creative work of his Spirit, and as we carry forward the heritage of our past.

Here is the dedicatory prayer I offered for the center:

We come today, our great God and Father, in the name of Jesus Christ, through the guidance of the Spirit, to ask for wisdom and discernment. We ask that you would enlighten our minds, open our eyes and soften our hearts for the mission at hand. We ask that you would challenge us through the vast host of witnesses that have gone before us, the forbears of a great tradition of faith – a tradition committed to discipleship, witness, service, community and peace. 

We ask, Father, that you will anoint and bless The Center for Anabaptist Studies. And as the various partners work together to further a theological, historical and educational mission, will you revive the hearts of your children and draw all people to yourself.

We ask a blessing upon Dr. Valerie Rempel, our center’s director. Give her vision, passion and purpose for the challenges that lie ahead.  We are grateful for the benefactors that have made this center possible. We honor their faithfulness to the Anabaptist vision and thank you for them.

God our Father, an idea is born today. For some, it would seem to be an idealistic one, an antiquated aberration of history. Some would even call it heretical as they did 500 years ago. But today, God, we stand together to again commit ourselves to the way of Jesus, though that way may not make sense, though that way may not be popular and though that way may not walk easily in step with the current culture.  We believe that we have a vital and prophetic message for the twenty-first century and we believe that there are those, especially the young who are so disenchanted with popular ideologies and paradigms, that will also find hope, meaning and purpose in a third way.

So, today, our great God, we dedicate The Center for Anabaptist Studies to you and ask that you grant us favor.

Ephesians 3:20-21
Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.

 

Why I think Steve Jobs was a great leader but would make a terrible pastor

Just yesterday Steve Jobs, the genius behind more than three decades of revolutionary innovation at Apple, Pixar and Disney, lost his battle with cancer at the age of 56. Upon hearing of Jobs’ death, Steven Spielberg commented that “Steve Jobs was the greatest inventor since Thomas Edison” because of his ability to bring world-changing technology into the lives of ordinary people.

Someone suggested to me that the Church needs a Steve Jobs-type leader and asked, “What could such a person do if committed to the mission of the church?” At first, this sounds like a great idea, but further reflection causes me to wonder if that would really work.  As I think about the role of a pastor in the church, I need to remember why I love the leadership of Jobs. Here are some of the qualities that stand out most.

• A rebel. Jobs was never satisfied with the status quo. He wasn’t afraid to disagree with people nor did he shy away from conflict. He consistently rebelled against the reigning systems in an effort to do something different, progressive and new.


• An optimist. Never willing to succumb to defeat, Jobs always saw the future and reached for it. Even when fired from Apple in 1985, he was able to forge new pathways and envision fresh possibilities. This led him toward development of the NeXT computer and Pixar. While not ignoring what could be learned from the past, he was able to see the best in the future and move toward it.


• A dreamer. Not many CEOs can be credited with such a creative and imaginative spirit. Jobs was never inclined to do things the same as everyone else. He had the ability to dream about what could be and then inspire people to join him in pursuit of the dream.  He didn’t just have imagination, he was imagination.


• An enabler. Apple employees have often noted that Jobs was not only creative, but he allowed them to be creative. Jobs enabled, empowered and equipped his people to dream and think for themselves. He did not require them to fit in neatly defined boxes. He trusted them and released them to be imaginative.


• An adapter. One of Jobs’ most remarkable qualities was his ability to shift quickly with and adapt to the changing world around him. Cultural shifts were not something to be feared, they were opportunities to move in new directions. However, Jobs famously refused to use focus groups. He was not a politician holding his finger to the wind in a reactionary manner. He boldly proclaimed the future, and was able to move his gargantuan corporation in and with the culture in almost prophetic ways.


• A philanthropist. When Jobs was accused of being stingy with his money earlier this year, the rock star Bono shot back in the New York Times. In defense of Jobs, Bono commented that Apple had given “tens of millions of dollars that have transformed the lives of more than two million Africans through H.I.V. testing, treatment and counseling.” Though intensely private, Jobs demonstrated a commitment to caring for the world around him. When asked by Bono to join the (RED) campaign, Jobs replied, “There is nothing better than the chance to save lives.”

In sum, Steve Jobs was much more than a CEO. He was an artist. When he set out to develop a product, he approached it as a poet. His computers, music players and phones were not merely technical gadgets, they were paintings. Jobs was not interested in function alone. He developed form around visual colors and tactile sensations. He saw the world as an artist would and his leadership style reflected the heart of a master sculptor.

Was Steve Jobs a great leader? Most definitely. And there is much that church leadership can learn from this innovative, imaginative craftsman. Unfortunately, this is precisely the type of person that most churches drive from their midst because they are fearful of and threatened by such people. The artist is rarely welcome in institutional Christianity. These kinds of folks see the world differently and often annoy traditional church systems. Even as tough as Jobs was, many churches would just chew him up and spit him out. He'd be fired for sure.

I think Steve Jobs was a great leader, but I’m pretty sure he would make a terrible pastor.

PS On a related note, as we say "Goodbye" to Steve Jobs, we say "Happy 10th Anniversary" this month to the iPod, just one of Jobs' devices that changed the world. And here's another creative partnership that stretched way outside of the box:

Leaving the pastorate: Rob Bell, Francis Chan, Brian McLaren and an alternate way to see the kingdom

There seems to be a trend in pastoring these days. Some preachers of great notoriety, and others hoping to attain that status, have left the pastorate to pursue what is often described as a call to a “new ministry” of speaking and writing. For some, the call to the circuit trumps the call to the pulpit.

Rob Bell announced his resignation last Sunday in his Mars Hill Bible Church. “Hmm,” I thought, “what is he up to? I’m sure he has something else in mind.” Sure enough. Today, we learned that Bell has plans to write and produce a television show called Stronger. The series will be loosely based on Bell’s own life as a rock-star-turned-preacher. Mars Hill’s co-pastor Shane Hipps commented, “Rob is graduating, and we send him with sadness and joy into a big world." 

Other famous pastors who have changed course amid pastoral success include Francis Chan and Brian McLaren. Chan is the founding pastor of Cornerstone Church, a megachurch in southern California. In 2010 he resigned from his successful ministry to pursue his passion for speaking and writing. McLaren has a similar story, having founded Cedar Ridge Community Church near Baltimore in 1986 and then leaving in 2006 to devote more time to his publications and speaking engagements.

I have enjoyed working with Chan and McLaren in the past and have read all three of these men’s books. I have great respect for each. But what I admired most about them was their ability to pastor. Each of these pioneers, usually through great sacrifice, was able to bring relevancy and realism to their writing and speaking because they were grounded solidly in the everyday lives of those to which they ministered. 

Many other lesser known ministers have left the pastorate to pursue a higher profile professional venture. Though this isn’t necessarily wrong, I wonder why the Christian community continues to proliferate a culture of personality that nearly demands the ascension of charismatic conference speakers. Then, often at the height of their popularity, when these celebrities come tumbling down, we shriek, wail and cast our stones (i.e. Amy Grant, Ted Haggard, etc.). Please note -- I’m not judging the character or motives of these Christian leaders. My critique has always been of the Christian subculture that created and maintains this systemic cult of personality.

There is, however, another model. Henri Nouwen (1932-1996) was a vibrant pastor, respected author and brilliant professor holding positions at Notre Dame, Yale and Harvard. In 1985 he gave up his prestigious teaching post and joined L’Arche, a community of developmentally disabled people in France. There, he lived in obscurity serving the least of the least. His book In the Name of Jesus chronicles his downward journey from fame and success to work with those who were all but abandoned by society and cast off as unimportant. Nouwen learned that as he climbed down the ladder of prestige and success, those who were marginalized had much to teach him about his own disabilities. His core understandings of leadership and success were challenged and redefined. 

The hope and prayer I have for my students is that they will learn to gauge success not in terms of numbers (i.e. of attendance, of dollars, of books written) but through the testimonies of those they have discipled. Depth of spiritual formation is not easily measured, doesn’t fit well in a strategic plan and is often not considered in formal job reviews. And sometimes, maybe more often than we consider, it requires a move down the churchly corporate ladder. 

One of my desires in Heaven will be to meet all of the unknown servants of Christ that never spoke at a Christian conference, never wrote a book and were never interviewed for an article, yet they faithfully and quietly joined the mission of God in small, almost imperceptible ways. It's these folks that change the world in an ongoing daily way. I can hear Christ’s proclamation already, “Well done, good and faithful servant!” 

 

Teaching U2: The Classroom as Theological Learning Space

I'm finally getting around to posting this. Back in October of 2009 I attended and presented a paper at the first-ever academic conference on U2, The Hype And The Feedback. The paper was published last year in Pacific Journal, a publication of Fresno Pacific University. Jessica Mast, a former student of mine at FPU, helped write the piece by giving the perspective of a sharp 20-something woman who's learned to love the work of U2. I'm grateful that she gave input and was also able to attend the conference with me.

"Teaching U2: The Classroom as Theological Learning Space" highlights some of the outcomes from a very unique class I teach at FPU, "Theology, Culture and U2." To my knowledge, it's the only semester-long course of it's kind.

In the paper I suggest that students' perceptions of theology can be radically shifted by investigating U2's approach to scripture, global activism and artistry. The band's biblical background certainly influences their engagement with the world.

Hear for yourself what students discovered by studying U2:

"Before taking this class my idea of theology would have been the systematic study of the Bible and all of its principles. I would have described theology as taking each passage of scripture in the Bible and defining the clear, distinct truth or command God is expressing to his followers. If you were to ask me how one can better understand theology I would have told you to start a Bible study, listen to a sermon, or talk with a Bible scholar. U2 has changed all of that. Through studying the music of U2 I have been faced with a new reality: theology isn’t knowledge, its practice!"   -Kyle

"Before taking this class, I thought theology was simply the study of God. I can understand now that theology is yes, based on orthodoxy, but also orthopraxy. The music of U2 has freed my soul in a way. Ha, I’m now more annoying to others—telling them what Jesus is doing in the world and throwing a few U2 facts and lyrics in as well. But more than just learning to “act out” my faith more, or even speak up more… things and life and faith become more primal. More sensory-oriented. Let’s taste our faith, feel our faith, smell it, hear it, let’s touch it. But together, please."   -Karen

You can find the whole paper here. Please leave a comment and let me know what you think.

The spirit/wind/breath of God's creation

Psalm 104 is a beautiful poetic recounting of God's marvelous act of creation. In this 3000-year-old poem the author praises Yahweh for his creativity and his sustenance of the cosmos. The psalmist mirrors the Genesis story by recalling God's creation of the heavens and earth, the plant and animal kingdoms and human beings. Yahweh is to be praised as the divine author and sustainer of his magnificent creation.

As I read this inspiring psalm recently, I was struck by the psalmist's testimony of what he perceives God to be doing, not just in the past, but in the present activity of everyday life. He reminds his soul to rejoice in the ongoing work of creation which is evident in the continual blessings and benefits God bestows on his handiwork. God continues to be at work as humans do all the normal things of daily life and activity, as animals hunt for and gather food, as plants spring to life then wither and die and as streams and rivers swell and recede in their normal seasonal patterns.

Verses 29-30 are particularly thought-provoking. Speaking of the living world, the psalmist asserts,

When you hide your face,
   they are terrified;
when you take away their breath,
   they die and return to the dust.
When you send your Spirit,
   they are created,
   and you renew the face of the earth. (NIV)

Essential to understanding these two verses is the use of the Hebrew word ruach. It's an amazing word representing a broad and important concept. Ruach can be translated in several different ways, most commonly as spirit, wind, and breath. Verse 29 literally says, "when you take away their spirit/wind/breath, they die...." In a similar way, verse 30 says, "When you send your spirit/wind/breath, they are created...." God's ruach is his ever-present ongoing spirit-of-life/wind-of-life/breath-of-life which enables the act of creation.

Though ruach is used in Psalm 104, it has a much older history. We find the first use of ruach in the first book of the bible. Genesis 1:1-2 records, "In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters" (NIV).

The NRSV translates the last line as “a wind from God swept over the face of the waters.” The general sense is that God was actively beginning the process of creation through his spirit/wind/breath. Furthermore, ruach is clearly a feminine noun. Ruach hovers and broods over the nest of creation, and as it germinates and begins to take shape she guides and nurtures the process.

As we step into the New Testament we are quickly confronted with “spirit” language. In one of the bible’s most famous stories we find a Pharisee named Nicodemus coming to Jesus with questions about God (John 3:1-21). Jesus responds, “Very truly I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God unless they are born again” (NIV). Rather than “born again,” a more accurate translation is “born from above.” Either way the emphasis is on new life through a birth other than that of a human nature.

When Nicodemus asks Jesus how this is possible, Jesus responds with,

Very truly I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless they are born of water and the Spirit. Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit. You should not be surprised at my saying, ‘You must be born again.’ The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit. (NIV)

Every time the word “spirit” or “wind” is used in Jesus’ response, it is the Greek word pneuma. This word is the equivalent to the Hebrew ruach in the Old Testament. In answering Nicodemus’s question about how to enter the kingdom of God, Jesus draws upon the creation story of Genesis, as well as the long tradition of ruach as a creative motherly process. Eugene Peterson’s translation from John 3:5-6 of The Message is helpful and enlightening:

Jesus said, "You're not listening. Let me say it again. Unless a person submits to this original creation—the 'wind-hovering-over-the-water' creation, the invisible moving the visible, a baptism into a new life—it's not possible to enter God's kingdom. When you look at a baby, it's just that: a body you can look at and touch. But the person who takes shape within is formed by something you can't see and touch—the Spirit—and becomes a living spirit.

The same creative, life-giving spirit/wind/breath of Genesis is present and active in the salvation process. Thus, God continues his ongoing creative work through the very spirit and act of creation.

It’s not by coincidence then that Jesus appears to the disciples after his resurrection with a similar message. John 20:21-22 records the scene for us: “Jesus said, ‘Peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.’ And with that he breathed on them and said, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit.’” In a final act with his disciples, Jesus breathes on them and grants them an equal portion, an in-filling, of God’s pneuma. The ruach of the Old Testament now hovers and broods over and in them to continue the powerful process of creation.

Psalm 104 took me on a journey through Old and New Testaments this week. I was reminded again to praise God with my whole being for his ongoing creative work in this world. The spirit continues to blow and breathe a fresh wind of life, restoration and salvation. And I, as a vessel of this nurturing, life-giving, brooding spirit, am called to join in the ongoing work of creation. When God sends his spirit, we should expect improbable and generative acts of creation -- the kinds of acts that most of us wouldn’t dare to imagine or dream about.

But let’s keep imagining and dreaming. To do anything less might mean quenching the spirit and impeding the creative work of the kingdom at hand.

 

I know a girl who's like a sea
I watch her changing every day for me

One day she's still, the next she swells
You can hear the universe in her sea shells

No line on the horizon

 

U2 and the failed rapture - such a disappointment

The rapture has come and gone. Harold Camping and his Family Radio franchise predicted a massive earthquake that would roll across the planet corresponding to exactly 6:00 PM in every time zone on May 21. At the same time Christians were to be raptured up into the air, finally being delivered from the evils of the world and ushered into the presence of God in heaven.

Such a disappointment.

Not that the rapture didn’t happen—that’s not the disappointment. The disillusionment comes from watching the whole farcical, tragic mess unfold. The heartbreaking reality is that Christians, fueled by a media that almost solely looks for sensationalism in a story, often miss the meaning and purpose of the church and God’s kingdom for this not-so-late-great-planet Earth.

As a kid I lived through the 1970s and was influenced by the hysteria of end times doctrine. I read Hal Lindsey, Tim LaHaye and other popular authors who created a new genre of Christian horror/sci-fi/fantasy. I went to a camp where the speaker explained all of the mystical peoples, signs and places of the Bible by careful isolating and then linking individual verses, with the end result of teaching us who Gog and Magog were, what the antichrist and the beast would do and other concepts like tribulation, millennium and rapture. I saw my share of scare-the-hell-out-of-you plays, skits and movies. All of us Evangelicals thought the end was at hand.

And then, a few years later I realized that this whole convoluted scheme for understanding Christ’s return was actually less than 200 years old. It was only introduced and then popularized by people like John Darby (considered the father of dispensationalism) in the mid-nineteenth century and C.I. Scofield (author of the Scofield Reference Bible which emphasized dispensationalism) in the early twentieth century. This type of systematic teaching was further formalized by Lewis Chafer, the founder of Dallas Theological Seminary, in the mid-twentieth century, and teachings on the rapture and the millennium gained wild popularity in the seventies through Lindsey’s and LaHaye’s writings (even though the terms are never even found in the Bible). None of this was even thought of for the first 1800 years of the Christian Church.

Such a disappointment.

Because of our modern focus on leaving Earth (yes, I said “our” focus), Evangelicals have missed out on one of the greatest truths of scripture: the Kingdom of God is among us. It’s not here or there, Jesus said, it’s in your midst and it continues to come. The “eternal life” of John 3:16 is something that starts in the here-and-now. He prayed, “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” Jesus illustrated the kingdom with metaphors of a tiny seed growing into a huge tree and yeast that permeates the rising dough. When he left this world his disciples were deeply concerned about knowing when he would return. His answer? “That’s none of your business, you belong here so get busy doing the work of my kingdom.” In seeking to evacuate this planet we forget that the church is a beautiful sign, testimony and witness of God’s great kingdom. Well... it's supposed to be.

Such a disappointment.

May 21, 2011 was not just an epic fail for the rapture, it also marked the return of U2 to the United States. Those who follow the theological threads of U2’s work know that one of the more consistent themes found in their songs is that of eschatology, or in other words, a theology of end times (see "My U2 Rapture Playlist" here).  
 
As a quick illustration, check out the title and album cover for their most recent project No Line on the Horizon. Undoubtedly, the title represents a view of the kingdom suggested by Jesus’ prayer, “on earth as it is in heaven.” The cover art is a beautiful black and white photo of the ocean meeting sky with the horizon running perfectly through the middle. Superimposed on the clear wrapper of the CD is an equal sign arranged in such a way that one bar of the sign straddles heaven and the other rests on earth. It's a beautiful representation of a holistic biblical concept of heaven and earth. One is not evil and the other good; both are avenues through which God brings his kingdom.

During the concert (remember, it’s the night of the supposed rapture), the band played the song “Until the End of the World,” a marvelous apocalyptic tune in which they retell Judas’s story of betrayal and ask the hypothetical question of whether God’s love and grace are big enough to redeem Judas (their answer is unequivocally, “Yes!”). But, on this night, Bono had a variety of comments to make about the hype and hysteria of the day. Here are some of his remarks.

In the intro to the song Bono announces, “This is for the reverend Harold Camping” and then a bit later, “Such a disappointment.”

Such a disappointment.

Why? Because the rapture didn’t happen? No, that’s not the reason. The disappointment lies in that so many have misunderstood what the kingdom of God is and have been shifting the focus to some kind of earth-equals-hell-and-I’m-outta-here plan. The disappointment is that we have, all of us, including the non-Christian media outlets, turned a beautiful truth into a horror story. The disappointment comes from being unable to recognize that God is at work in his wonderful creation and that we have the opportunity (the responsibility?) to join him.

In the middle of the instrumental bridge of UTEOTW Bono brings it home. “God is in the house,” he says/admits/admonishes. He is here! He has come, he is coming and he will continue to come!

During the grand chaotic cacophony of the song’s final few strains, Bono screams with the conviction of a man that knows heaven is not just some distant ethereal place, “Somewhere! Somewhere! It is… it’s heaven!” And then in a beautiful poignant act of symbolism he reaches down, picks up some roses and one-by-one throws them to the impassioned crowd, shouting, “We bring peace! We bring peace!” The peace that Bono references is not some kind of fleeting 70s-style flower power, nor is it the forceful coercion of law and order, or even the absence of violence. It is the shalom of God’s kingdom, the entire story of the gospel including salvation, rescue, redemption, righteousness, justice, freedom and restoration. This is the stuff of heaven!

But the drama isn't over, and in a twist of irony so common at a U2 concert the band leave us with one more image. In the last moment of the song, in a scene played out on two bridges above the screaming crowd, Bono stretches across the chasm between he and The Edge and offers his fellow band member a rose. The trusses they stand on move closer and closer together but just inches away and unable to reach far enough, Bono drops the flower to the audience below. Is the peace of God's kingdom at hand? Yes. Is it here in its perfect and fullest form? Not yet. There will be days when we will recognize God's kingdom and reign over his beautiful creation and we will celebrate. But there will be other days when we acknowledge its incompleteness and continue to run, crawl, scale, climb and search for any glimpse of its glory. That is the tension in which we live.

The whole scene during UTEOTW is a cathartic, moving, grace-filled corrective to the escapist mentality of a rapture-centric American population. The kingdom of God is here, but not yet. It is now, but still to come. It is among us, but not completed. And U2, once again, masterfully and artistically have reminded us so.

Check out a couple of videos of "Until the End of the World" from the May 21 show.

Here is the whole song from a distance.

 

Here is a close-up of the stage. The footage of Bono is very impactful, particularly starting at 3:40. Highly recommended viewing!

 

Lyrics to the song here at the @U2 website.

(Here is another postI did on Bono's use of C.S. Lewis in which I mention the song "Until the End of the World.")

 

No more altar calls

While I have been doing doctoral work I had to give up something I really enjoyed: speaking at summer youth camps. It was a deal I made with my wife to try and bring some sanity to our home and protect our family (and, no, I don't have a demanding wife, I have a very smart wife). But now that five years of hard work and a dissertation are done, I've accepted an engagement this summer.

A few weeks ago the program director from a nearby camp in the Sierra Nevada mountains called and asked if I'd speak to 300+ junior highers. I was honored that he still thought well enough of me to ask. And I was curious (if not a little nervous) to see if this 48-year old college professor still had the knack for making biblical teachings accessible to teens. After the usual discussion of details about camp size, number of sessions, theme, purpose, etc., I let him know that I was interested but that I had some reservations about one particular component of the typical summer camp: the altar call.

Let me back up. I spent nine years working at one of the largest Christian youth camps in America in the 1980s and 1990s. I love children and youth, I love teaching the Bible and I love camp ministry. It was formative in my life and as a youth pastor I've seen it transform countless students' lives. Though many would argue that camp ministry is on the decline in a postmodern culture (at least the entertainment-driven model), it still has a valid place as a transformational component of adolescent faith development.

But, as I told the director of the camp, I now know so much more about the emotional, psychological, physiological and spiritual development of teenagers. I realize now that I and so many others have been guilty of manipulation when it comes to teen conversion. In his book Hurt: Inside the World of Today's Teenagers, Chap Clark brilliantly demonstrates that teens have an innate tendency and desire to please the adults around them. So when a caring and influential counselor asks a question like, "You want to become a Christian tonight, don't you?" the teen is inclined to say "Yes" just to please the adult. (By the way, the previous question is a horrible one in that it is leading, closed-ended and manipulative.) The motivation for a conversion experience is driven by approval from the counselor rather than a personal desire to follow Christ in a transformed life.

Added to the pressure to please adults is often some type of emotionally-charged environment such as, low lights, music, campfire and passioned pleas all after an exhausting week in which students are tired, stressed and easily manipulated. Tony Jones refers to this as "emotional rape." The altar call becomes nothing more than a chance to take advantage of adolescents who are already susceptible to poor decision-making. Teens often agree to some kind of commitment, usually in the form of a series of steps/laws or a formulaic prayer (which can be eerily similar to one of Harry Potter's magical incantations), without the adequate opportunity to understand what it is they are committing to. As the secular musician Maryn Cadell once recorded, "Invite Christ into my heart? How surreal. How serene. I didn't even know the man."

Does this mean that there is no room for a call to salvation at a summer youth camp? Not necessarily, but the method should be closely scrutinized. After assuring the camp director that I still believe in personal salvation I offered an alternative to the altar call (maybe I should call this an "alter call"). I propose that we begin to view salvation as a much more communal process rather than an isolated event. In the New Testament we find people joining a movement called The Way as they commit to following Christ. For these people there was no sense of personal salvation outside of the Christian community. This is why the unity of Jew and Gentile, male and female, slave and free is such a huge deal to the Apostle Paul. Recently a missionary I know by the name of Phil Bergen commented on the process of salvation, "In Burkina Faso becoming a Christian isn't a conversion. It's trading one community for another." Phil gets it because he's a missionary. Community is the place and means of salvation. This is first-century Acts stuff!

Danny Carroll has written a fantastic text on immigration called Christians at the Border: Immigration, the Church, and the Bible. In commenting on the Hebrews' understanding of community as it relates to salvation and acceptance of the foreigner, Carroll states, "In the ancient world, to leave one's gods was to renounce a crucial element of national and cultural identity. To believe in the deity of another people, and all that would entail, meant to enter into the very core of their existence and adopt their worldview." Salvation in both the Old and New Testaments usually means leaving behind one community and entering into a new community of brothers and sisters.

So what does this mean for the typical summer youth camp and a call to salvation? I am eager and excited to present the Gospel, review the life, death and resurrection of Jesus and teach about the saving grace of God. But after that presentation has happened from the stage (and not just in one meeting--it's certainly a fallacy to think that the entirety of the Gospel can be presented in one thirty-minute sermon), it's my job to send the student who has questions about God back to his or her youth leader. It's the individual youth leaders, counselors and pastors who know the context of their students the best, and therefore know how to best lead a student further on in the conversation about God. I'm just the one who primes the pump. The youth leaders are the ones who fill up the bucket. An abstract decision made by a student at my request will never be as strong as the decision made through intimate and personal conversation with a caring mentor in the youth group.

So, no more altar calls for me. (Furthermore, the altar call is an invention of nineteenth-century American revivalists and is not found in the Bible). From now on it'll be a deal-breaker as to whether I'll agree to speak at a camp. I'll gladly call students to a deeper commitment and understanding of God, but I won't use manipulative tactics. Salvation is a process (sometimes a very long process) that happens best in the context of relationship and community and family. I hope the staff and counselors I work with this summer agree. It'll be interesting to see if this camp invites me back.