LIVE READY TO LEAP

My spiritual life has been punctuated by mystical experiences
of the presence of God which leave me with a deep sense of
God communicating as “deep unto deep.” One of these experiences
is a vision that has recurred since I was very young.

This vision has come infrequently but always when I am in a
crowd facing a stage or other point of group focus. In the vision
I suddenly see, above and to the right, a rope, several
feet long, dangling in midair as if from nowhere. No one else
seems to see it but the rope, with its tip a foot or two over
people’s heads, begins to slowly float from side to side winding
its way back and forth across the crowd. As I watch I have
a powerful sense that when the rope comes over my head I
will have one chance to leap up and grab hold and be carried
off for some adventure. The most salient feeling, however, is
not the excitement at being whisked away but, rather, the
sense that even though no one else can or will see the rope I
must not hesitate, regardless.
Over the course of my life this vision has taught me that moments
to act on my beliefs may be rare and I must be vigilant.
The film, Same God, documents such a moment when I saw
the way that the administration  at Wheaton College treated
me much better than they treated my black female colleague,
Larycia Hawkins, despite the fact that we were both
tenured and both reprimanded for making what they called
equally inappropriate comments on social media. When a
journalist asked if I would speak out publicly about this I asked
for a few minutes to pray and think about the decision. She
acknowledged that I would likely be fired for such an action so
I should take my time. When I discussed it with my wife she
had similar fears and asked “why does it have to be you?”
When I stilled my heart to listen to God I immediately remembered
the vision of the rope. As I told my wife and the journalist
the administration can’t see what they are doing but I can
and this opportunity will only knock once.
What I have learned about embodied solidarity is that it usually
sneaks up on us in the form of moments. It is difficult to
teach our eyes to see what others refuse to see, especially
when they will hate us for it. But if we keep our eyes open we
can live ready to leap so that when moments of injustice
present themselves we can seize them before they disappear
forever.
Despite many painful repercussions and lost relationships I
have never regretted seizing that moment and I am thankful
that I had the privilege of acting in Embodied Solidarity with
Larycia and with the muslim women she supported.

Matthew 19 paraphrase

Matthew 19 paraphrase

While enjoying Lectio Divina meditation on Matthew chapter 19 I imagined the following paraphrase for our time.

Some religious leaders came to Jesus and asked “is it lawful for the church to reject a member who loves someone of the same sex?“

Haven’t you read, he replied, that “love comes from  God and everyone who loves is born of God and knows God?”?And also “Whoever confesses that Jesus is the Son of God, God abides in him, and he in God."

Why then, they asked, does the Bible say that it is an abomination for a man to lie with another man as he would with a woman?

Jesus replied, the Old Testament purity laws were given to you in your moral infancy so that you might grow in wisdom to understand beyond simplistic binaries of clean and unclean and how something makes you feel, but it was not so from the beginning. Also why do you not note that the Bible says that "it is an abomination to sow dissension among the brethren. " you pick and choose what you believe.

I tell you that you must not send away anyone that I have invited to my table.

Whose enemy are you?

Three years ago, my colleague and friend, Dr. Larycia Hawkins, displayed embodied solidarity with persecuted Muslim women. In a now infamous Facebook post that was heard ‘round the world,’ Larycia wore a hijab and acknowledged her respect for fellow human beings of devout faith. I was supportive of her gesture and told her that, but, knowing the rampant Islamophobia in the evangelical subculture and at Wheaton College, I was concerned about her wellbeing. I commented on her post, “If you get any grief at work, give me a heads up because I’ll be teaching Islamic prayer in my spring class.” While this was technically true, I also knew that it could attract the same animosity as Larycia’s post. I know well the speed and intensity with which that animosity can appear.
I was born and raised in a small church in a tiny farming community in northeastern Montana. I say “church" instead of “family” because that congregation easily had as much influence on my development and formation as did any relatives, and in many ways, much more.
This was the era in which evangelicalism was evolving out of fundamentalism. Evangelicals, in their response to the dangers of modernism, sought to draw a line between themselves and their legalistic, anti-intellectual fundamentalist cousins. Anyone who lived through that transition, however, can tell you that the line was only ever blurry, at best. It is no surprise, therefore, that in the current crises of our culture, evangelicalism is regressing toward its fundamentalist origins in tone and temperament. This is especially evident through the resurgence of tribalism.
Fundamentalism depends heavily on tribalism. I like Brian Zahnd's definition of tribalism, "An us vs. them scapegoating groupthink.” A fundamentalist worldview requires an enemy to maintain cohesion of tribal members’ beliefs. In my early years, growing up in a "fundagelical" church, there was never any doubt about who the enemies were. I heard innumerable sermons and rants spitting out words of contempt that named those outside our tribe who meant to do us ill. Words like liberals, progressives, mainline, ecumenical, communist, secular humanist, pro-choice and homosexual. These words were often spoken in hatred.
Jesus said, “You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” (Matthew 5:42-44 NIV) No one in the church would have admitted that we were being encouraged to hate our enemies. In fact, the list of enemies often came with the uniquely evangelical form of gaslighting, “Love the sinner but hate the sin.”
However, actions speak louder than words and, even as a child, I understood that hate resides in the heart and simply denying it doesn’t make it go away. I am reminded of the
Supreme Court Justice commenting on a case involving a charge of obscenity. He refused to try to concretize an objective definition of hard core pornography, choosing, instead, to quip, ‘I know it when I see it.’
In the same way, I know hate when I see it and when I feel it.
Despite insistence to the contrary, I knew growing up that I was being taught to hate my enemies. When an expert in the law tried to make himself look good by challenging Jesus to explain who is his neighbor, Jesus responded with the parable of the good Samaritan. As a youth, when I heard this story, I wished someone had asked Jesus “Who is my enemy?” But I have come to realize that Jesus answered that unasked question as well in the parable. I can imagine his listeners’ surprise when Jesus introduced the Samaritan into the story. They must have thought “Why are you bringing our enemy into the tale? We asked who is our neighbor.” Jesus shows us that enemies exist only in the heart. To eliminate your enemies, do as the Samaritan did and change your heart perspective. The Samaritan didn’t see his enemy lying on the ground, a Jerusalem Jew who would likely persecute him, he saw a man, like himself, dying and in need of help.
Jesus was quite literally addressing tribalism here since the Samaritans (like the “Jerusalem” Jews hearing the parable) descended from the sons of Jacob. In that situation, Jesus was making everyone uncomfortable because in addition to expounding on the commandment to love your neighbor, he was showing that tribalism asks the wrong question. The question is not "Who is my enemy?” but rather, "Whose enemy am I?”
Loving my neighbor doesn’t only include showing mercy to someone I thought unworthy of mercy, it also means acknowledging that others have reason to consider me unworthy.
When I was young, Jesus’ command to love our enemies was rather confusing to me. I didn’t really think I had enemies. Oh, there were the bullies at school that I’d avoid running into in the hall, but I knew that it wasn’t really me that they hated, I was just an easy target. Besides, they had no reason to hate me that I could think of. I heard the message loud and clear in church that there were enemies “out there” that I should hate. Homosexuals were, for some reason, a frequent example, but it all seemed rather abstract since I wasn’t aware that I knew any. It was especially confusing to try to understand why someone should consider me an enemy since I didn’t give anyone a reason to hate me. Everything in my world taught me that as a white, American, evangelical, male, there was nothing about me to dislike.
So, while I grew up in the church learning there was an abstract enemy “out there” that was not in my tribe, I never saw the opportunity to show them love. Besides, if anyone in the church did suggest that we should love them, it was in the form of harshly warning them they were bound for hell.
Growing up evangelical meant having a constant sense of safety in the assurance that I was a member of the superior tribe. I even remember a sermon explaining that American evangelicals were God’s new chosen people with the guarantee of His blessings.
Being part of the “us” and looking down on “them” did not prepare me for what could happen if my tribe turned on me.
I was able to attend the world premiere of Same God a few months ago at the Los Angeles Film Festival. That experience was so healing for me that I have tried to attend every screening since that night. The healing has come from finding a new tribe. The film tells the story of what happened to Larycia and me in the aftermath of the controversy over her statement that Muslims and Christians worship the same god. The Evangelical subculture went ballistic over that statement as people reacted reflexively without taking the time to even read what she was intending in the statement.
Likewise, when I supported her and criticized our employer for not treating her fairly and, in fact, for treating me very well while treating her terribly, the reaction was extremely hostile. Both of us were shocked at the hatefulness and even violence of the messages we received from the “Christian” community, especially from Evangelical leaders. We were effectively cast out of the Evangelical tribe and, though both of us were tenured professors, we both lost our beloved classrooms.
After 50 years in Evangelicalism hearing about the enemy “other,” I found myself on the outside being treated as the enemy. The lessons are still unfolding but this is what I have learned so far:
When I first heard Larycia speak of embodied solidarity I imagined it, like most people I suspect, from the perspective of someone with abundance gifting to someone in poverty. One might call that condescending “generosity.” Far from embodied solidarity, that kind of “giving” is hateful and violent because it makes me one of the superior tribe of “haves” and an enemy of the poor, disadvantaged “have-nots” because it denies our shared equal humanity. God’s command is not to love anyone as “other” at all. It is to love them as I love myself. As part of me or perhaps as the rest of me. To see anyone as “other” is to hate them and be their enemy in God’s eyes. To see myself in them, to put my body right next to theirs, is to begin to live the kind of love that God showed in Emmanuel, God with us. Anything less is not worthy of the name Christian.
From Larycia and from the way God is redeeming my recent experiences, I am finding that I may have lost my evangelical tribe and become an enemy to some, but I have joined a much bigger tribe of sojourners, many of whom have also followed Jesus out of former tribes that were neglecting his profound example as the one we once treated as estranged enemy, yet who stopped on the road to tend our wounds.
Whose enemy are you?

Please learn more at . thttp://samegodfilm.com/

Same God, Three Years Later

Three years ago, today, my colleague and friend, Dr. Larycia Hawkins, displayed embodied solidarity with persecuted Muslim women. In a now infamous Facebook post that was heard ‘round the world Larycia wore a hijab and acknowledged her respect for fellow human beings of devout faith. I was supportive of her gesture and told her that, but, knowing the rampant Islamophobia in the evangelical subculture and at Wheaton College, I was concerned about her wellbeing. I commented on her post “if you get any grief at work give me a heads up because I’ll be teaching Islamic prayer in my spring class.” While this was technically true I also knew that it could attract the same paranoia as Larycia’s post. 

Within hours I received a phone call, a text message and an email from the college provost, panicking about the way these two “equally innocuous” social media posts were being misinterpreted by media outlets and donors. Having studied authoritarian systems and worked in an authoritarian institution for nearly thirty years I immediately “groveled,” figuratively rolling over to expose my belly and throat. I know that in such systems one is expected to be  submissive when confronted by authorities. Within hours I had edited and approved the explanation the provost requested to have available for dissemination to media outlets or angry donors. I felt trusted, valued and supported. But over the next few days I watched in horror as the college administration shamed and ostracized Larycia, eventually scapegoating her and throwing her under the bus. 

At a faculty meeting to discuss this fiasco a female colleague asked, “Does anyone know of a time when a white male faculty member with tenure did something similar but was treated differently then our black female colleague with tenure?“ I said “yes, that would be me.” And I told everyone about the events I have just described. When a journalist asked if I would confirm the account I had shared with the faculty I agreed. The administration had already released information about the events to the media with their version of the narrative. While I was reluctant to fuel the media frenzy, I felt the injustice of their actions and the betrayal of the governance process moved beyond the level of “in house” solutions. I could not be silent when it seemed so obvious that Larycia’s image as a black woman in a hijab led the administration to respond so differently to her than they did to me. It is common in American Evangelical institutions, which are overwhelmingly white, for people of color to have to prove that they are not “too different “ for the institution.  I have witnessed this many times for Dr. Hawkins and for other colleagues of color. 

The administration confirmed my interpretation of the rules of patriarchal authoritarianism when they issued a press statement noting that “Unlike Dr. Mangis' immediate apology, retraction, and collaboration” Dr. Hawkins did not immediately put to rest all their concerns. 

As I said to the press then and still believe, an educational institution that stops learning and refuses to change is essentially dead. The purpose of diversity is to deepen and change the institution. When you ask someone with a fresh perspective to breathe new life into the community with the promise that they will be valued and supported, it is unacceptable to then punish them for not sounding like the stale old voices that have never changed. Dr. Larycia Hawkins brought a depth of thought and passion to her teaching that inspired her students to learn and to live out the call of Jesus Christ in the public square. I stood by her and stand by her still. Sadly we must both stand anywhere but at Wheaton College. 

The details of these events have been Documented in the Film Same God

Strongman Jesus

Has anyone else noticed a trend of Christians inventing a new Jesus more to their liking?

This strongman Jesus is very “manly” and doesn’t let anybody push him around, especially not women or foreigners. This new Jesus is white and proud of it. He backs winners” and shames “losers”

Strongman Jesus has no qualms about taking power and using it to influence politics and economics. He is wealthy and getting wealthier. He doesn’t talk about loving your enemies or turning the other cheek. Strongman Jesus carries a gun in his back pocket like Junior Falwell to shoot those who refuse to bow to him. 

I can understand the desire to be more in sync with the world in these ways but this fabricated Jesus does not come from the Bible and certainly bears no similarity to the real Jesus who flatly rejected all those things and said you’d recognize his followers because they will reject them, too. 

I am expecting the usual responses from my Evangelical friends who will say “where are you seeing this? My church is wonderful and no one says anything like this. So, if I am imagining this I would love to be wrong. I love the real Jesus too much to let “peer pressure “ lead me to invent a more culturally palatable version. Do you see this happening too? Share examples

The most dangerous spiritual addiction

superficiality is the curse of our age

Forty years ago Richard Foster opened his instantly classic spiritual guide Celebration of Discipline with these prophetic words “ superficiality is the curse of our age. The doctrine of instant satisfaction is a primary spiritual problem. The desperate need today is not for a greater number of intelligent people, or gifted people, but for deep people.“
Superficiality Is, indeed, the curse of our age. these words are, if anything, even more true today than they were four decades ago.
While it seems counterintuitive to welcome pain, it is essential to our well-being and survival--alerting us to the need to attend to injury, illness, or loss. Like all mammals, humans are designed with a neural system that closely links physical pain with social/emotional pain, a “broken heart” utilizes the same neural pathways as a broken arm or leg. our natural instinct is to seek pleasure and avoid pain.. however, as the only mammal designed in the image of God, human beings are capable of experiencing and processing pain at spiritual levels. Beneath the surface.
Depth and superficiality exist as poles on a continuum. Movement on that continuum is defined by one’s capacity to feel and make good use of the spiritual pain that comes from facing our own sin and the brokenness of the world.

“Man is born broken. He lives by mending. The grace of God is glue.”

― Eugene O'Neill

We are born into a world that is broken, at odds with its creator. by God’s grace We mature, spiritually, by both mourning that brokenness and participating in God’s plan for mending it, restoring Shalom. Those who are unable or unwilling to enter the spiritual deep end of life’s pool must remain in or regress to the fragility and superficiality of spiritual infancy They demand immediate comfort and satisfaction. They cannot acknowledge their own inadequacy. They cannot tolerate tension, paradox or complexity, they flee from anything that brings discomfort and they construct elaborate illusions to make themselves feel safe and comfortable. By cutting themselves off from deeper realities they remain spiritually weak and underdeveloped, requiring others to accommodate their superficiality. If possible, they surround themselves with other spiritually shallow people who will not challenge them to mature and will both affirm that theirs Is the right and reasonable way to be and join them in judging those that disagree. This enables them to believe that rather than the weaker brother or sister that easily stumbles they are actually superior.
Spiritual superficiality is an addiction because, like substance abuse, it fosters habituation and dependency. By never facing painful realities the shallow person does not develop the strengths to face those realities, perpetuating a vicious cycle.
In Celebration of Discipline Foster demonstrates that promoting spiritual depth requires more than theological or Biblical education, it requires spiritual formation. Without attention to such formation we remain spiritually shallow, focused on image management over substance. Like the religious leaders that Jesus exposed, the surface may look clean and proper while inside we are filthy.
American evangelicalism is in desperate need of a focus on spiritual depth over superficiality. Almost every day there is a new story of a prominent individual or organization that has been plotting and bullying to prop up their glittering surface image and keep hidden their shameful secrets.

No longer ruled by fear

 Parker J Palmer asks the question
 “It’s September, the start of the school year. For many kids, it’s an exciting growing edge moment and scary at the same time. When you’ve felt afraid on the growing edge of your adult life, what has helped you walk into your fear toward what excites you? What helps you keep fear from blocking your next steps toward your “deep gladness””

which prompted these thoughts for me. 

Much of my life has been dominated by fear.

Born into a fundamentalist church, my early years were filled with the fear that if I did not think and believe the “right” things and make the right decisions, as dictated by those in authority, i would be ineligible for heaven. Even more tangibly I knew that I could be shunned and shamed by the same Evangelical community that for all intents and purposes, had become my world
When I publically exposed the wrongdoing of the leaders of the evangelical community where I had invested nearly three decades of my personal and professional life I knew that my life, there, would be over. What “helped me walk into my fear toward what excites me” was the firm belief that I was following jesus off the road of a life defined by not displeasing those in power and into an exciting life of embodied solidarity with the powerless