This is a strange time for writing fiction. We are living in an era in which many of our political leaders promote as true what is actually fiction, and deride as fake what is actually true. Even sworn testimony, given under oath, is sometimes empty fiction.
Furthermore, when we are engaged with so many deeply troubling national and global issues, might not writing fiction be regarded as an irresponsible escape from reality. Surely, now is the time for facts, for non-fiction, for well-documented truths. As much as we need all of that, I believe now more than ever we need what could be called truthful fiction. We need fantasy writers to be our revealers, countering deception by opening up our awareness to reliable, enduring truth. Kerry Dearborn writes of the Spirit baptizing our imagination to “smuggle truth” past the defenses of our prejudices and preconceptions.
In response to this call, I’ve made my own attempt at “smuggling truth,” writing what I hope is truthful fiction and revealing fantasy, “Nomad and the Lost Stories.” This has been a fascinating, five-year process. I have written over a dozen works of non-fiction in theology, spirituality, ethics, and mission–but writing fiction is a very different art, and I am definitely an amateur.
In the story, I weave together fictionalized versions of experiences, encounters with people and dreams from my own life, with the hope that it will encourage others, and especially young adults, to explore the wonder of life with Christ. My desire is to create a resource people would enjoy sharing with their children and (older) grandchildren, friends and family, as a slightly indirect way to invite them into the wonder of God‘s great love. I’m compelled by the “mission statement” for elders given by the Psalmist: “Declare the mighty acts of God and God’s steadfast love to the next generations, so that even those yet to be born will have solid reasons for hope.”
I think all of us are looking for solid reasons for hope right now.
This story begins with an “accidental” fall into an ancient water trough.
It’s available now at Nomad and the Lost Stories
Witnessing Jesus’ Life in the Tomb
Tim A Dearborn
I’ve learned not to move too quickly from Good Friday to Easter. Holy Saturday is a profound invitation to encounter the breadth and depth of Jesus’ life for us. In the midst of an extended silent retreat, my spiritual director invited me to spend the day as if it was “Holy Saturday”—reflecting on the Scriptures related to Jesus’ burial in the tomb.
I offer here my reflections. This is excerpted from the book, Christ’s Heart Our Home
The Closed Door of Death
I thought of the experience of the women at the Tomb.
The Lord of Life killed.
The Creator of all things destroyed.
The Eternal Word silenced.
Love incarnate betrayed and destroyed.
The Hope of all ages shattered.
One more time injustice seemed to prevail.
Evil seemed more sovereign than goodness.
Death seemed more powerful than life.
I felt a taste of their grief, their loss. The closed Tomb loomed as a horrible barrier. The One who showed them love was now out of reach, inaccessible, gone.
Death scandalizes life. Now, the One who promised abundant life was lost behind death’s impenetrable barrier.
The stone of the Tomb expressed the unbreachable barrier of death:
no further contact,
no touch,
no final apology,
no comforting embrace.
There could be no reassuring word spoken through that door.
It was as if I saw the agony of millions of parents over lost children and dead infants.
I felt the deadness of:
irrecoverable betrayal,
endless suppression of hope,
insurmountable loneliness.
A sealed door.
A solid wall.
An unbridgeable chasm.
Silence that was without bounds.
The Living Word of God, the One who spoke all creation into existence, was now shut off from our hearing by death’s tomb.
But then I realized I was still on the outside of the Tomb. I’d never really thought about Jesus’ experience on the inside. He had invited me to come in.
I heard the invitation,
“I invite you to come with Me from the Cross into the Tomb.”
Immediately I thought of the few verses in Scripture that speak of those three days, such as 1 Peter 3:19 which describes Jesus proclaiming the good news to the spirits in prison.
“That’s true. But I invite you to linger in the Tomb.
What would you say if I wanted you to experience emptiness? Silence, aloneness, even forsakenness?
I don’t know if I can handle it Lord, but whatever comes from your hand I accept. Have your way.
“Everything that comes from My hand, everything found in My heart is held in love.
Receive everything, no matter how painful and grievous, as being held in My hands of love.”
Terrible Goodness
The Scriptural text from a chorus in Handel’s Messiah echoed in my heart: “Surely, surely, he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows” (Isa 53.5). Flowing from the Cross, through the Tomb, into the Light of the Resurrection is the river of mercy on which the Son and Spirit carry the groans of every living thing—human and all of creation—into the heart of God (Romans 8.22-26).
The cacophonous, disjointed grief and lament of all creation is swept into arms of love, made holy by God’s Presence, comforted, healed, death exchanged for life. But that was running ahead to when the Tomb was empty. The Spirit called me back into the Tomb.
Suddenly, scene after scene flashed before me of a terrible goodness. I thought of the hard emotions I saw during my first glimpse into Christ’s heart.
Image after image of pain swept past me. I don’t know how to describe them but, in the Tomb, I was in the presence of all pain that has shattered life from the beginning of time.
Held in the Tomb was all of creation’s pain.
desperation despair abuse misogyny
violence racism
cries of dereliction depression and suicide
pleas for God’s intervention addiction
anguish over miscarriages and dead children
soul-destroying fingers on guns and bombs
insurmountable walls of Alzheimer’s and mental illness
estranged marriages and families infidelity betrayal
people who feel friendless and unvalued
exploitation. utter poverty
abused children and women people who are imprisoned refugees
despondent parents diseases
This was not just borne by Jesus on the Cross. He carried it into the Tomb. And then, the stone was rolled over the entrance. The door was slammed shut. All sorrow, evil, injustice, and suffering were brought into the Tomb.
There’s no back door, no easy exit. The judgment of sin and evil has been given. The door is shut and sealed. All excuses are dismantled. All rationalizations and vain attempts at self-justification cease. All blaming is silenced. Our inability to fix our lives is fully exposed. There are no longer any places to divert attention toward others “who’ve done worse things” than we have.
Living Silence
To my surprise, the Tomb was filled with an utter silence. All groans and cries of agony were silenced.
This was not the “holding your breath in fear” kind of silence. It was not the silence commanded by captors, or the overpowering silence of terror.
I imagine it was similar to the vibrant silence of outer space—the dynamism of infinite galaxies with all sound absorbed into infinite space. However, in the Tomb, this dynamism was not absorbed by infinite emptiness but by infinite love.
Though a place of death, this wasn’t what I imagine is the silence of death. Rather, this was a living silence. It felt full and flooded with life. To my surprise, the inside of the Tomb was teeming with life—not death. There was power and energy to this silence. The Tomb was flooded with fullness, more fullness than I had ever before experienced in my life.
This silence was alive, for it was the all-embracing silence of God. Not silence as absence or indifference, not impotent silence as if God’s promises and purposes failed. This silence was triumphant.
No words were needed to prove God’s victory. Though this was the Tomb of the Incarnate Word, in this silence all words met their end. The time for words was over.
But it was not a calm silence. There were too many strong emotions, too many poured out tears and lament and terror and fear and frustration for stillness. This spacious silence was strong enough to hold all sorrow in God’s heart of love.
I heard a new form of justice in God’s silence—a right making way in silence.
The Fellowship of the Tomb
The Tomb was both a place of abandonment and of communion, of defeat and victory, of punishment and permission. Not permission to do as we please because all is now forgiven—but permission to join in the fellowship of Christ’s heart where all is made right.
Through the Tomb we are led to healing for it draws us deeper into Christ’s love.
The Tomb was filled, overflowing with love.
The Tomb is a place of holy communion. In a very real sense, I came to understand the Tomb as sacramental. The Tomb was flooded with grace—God’s right-making love at work.
After hours on this journey, I felt simultaneously exhausted and exhilarated. I was stunned by God’s grace but frankly, overwhelmed, at my limit, I didn’t feel like I could receive more. So, I asked God’s permission to write down what I retained of all I’d just encountered. I felt like I needed divine permission since I’d just encountered the end of words and God’s just silence. “I’ve more to show you but you’re not ready yet. This is enough for now.”
As I reflected on this experience, I sensed God saying that the call for my life is to bring every bit of me, all my desires, emotions, noise, tumult, fear, ambition, envy, vanity, and pride to the Cross, into the Tomb, and from the Tomb into Christ’s heart.
I now see the Tomb as the womb of God’s recreating love. God brings into Christ’s heart all cries, all fears, all longing, all failures, all disappointments—and all joy, beauty, and goodness. In the Tomb, God takes the raw—the very raw—materials of our human lives, embraces us, and refashions our lives into something beautiful.
On the outside of the Tomb, there is apparent failure and powerlessness. Defeat. Death.
On the inside, the Tomb is saturated with creativity. Overflowing life. The power to make all things right and new.
Even there, maybe especially there, we encounter the steadfast love and sovereign goodness of God. The silence in Christ’s Tomb holds all wounds in Christ’s heart. I sensed God inviting us, giving us permission, to join in the fellowship of God’s silence—the silence that draws us deeper into Christ’s soul healing heart.
Deaf children in Gaza(I wrote this 8 years ago. It’s still painfully pertinent today.)
I’ve been to Gaza several times. Even before this current disastrous conflict, Gaza was regarded as the world’s largest open air prison. Even crossing into Gaza through the Israeli VIP Checkpoint was a long, intimidating process. There’s no VIP crossing for Gazans. As we’ve seen in recent weeks, there is no crossing at all.
On one visit, I was exploring with Abuna Manuel who was the Roman Catholic Priest of Gaza a strange request we’d received. Amidst all the devastation of that place, with life-threatening shortages of food, medicine and clean water—let alone freedom and work—why was he asking for money to build playground equipment? That seemed so frivolous and secondary. His reply is unforgettable.
The children of Gaza have lost their capacity (and even places) to play.
Play is the pathway to laughter.
Laughter leads to joy, and joy opens up the gateway to hope.
Without hope, we have no life.
When we feel we have no life, people will do desperate things.
We need to help the children of Gaza to play again.
Needless to say, we made sure that the children of Gaza received the best playground equipment we could provide.
Thousands of children swung and slid, laughter resounded again, until during the last Israeli incursion into Gaza, even this playground was destroyed by Israeli shells.
It’s no wonder that the Prophet Zechariah reminded Israel that a sign of the Kingdom of heaven coming to earth is children playing freely on the streets of the city: “And the streets of the city will be filled with boys and girls playing in its streets” (8:5). Play and laughter are the language of heaven. We have the privilege and power in the Holy Spirit to help one another learn and speak freely that language.
If the task of producing hope sits on our shoulders, we will feel the constricting band of our own inadequacy and finitude stifling us. But if we recognize that God is the producer of hope and we are but assistants in hope’s birth, we can breathe again. We are not paralyzed. We can become joyous participants in that hope being born into people lives. We can provide the world with great playground equipment, joyous songs of testimony to God’s love, winsome deeds of justice and mercy, courageous lives of compassion, and miraculous signs of supernatural power.
(Beyond Duty: A Passion for Christ, A Heart for Mission (2013: 45). Available on Amazon US, UK, India, Canada, Japan, France, Germany, Italy, Spain.)
For the past few weeks, our church has had a sign out front proclaiming “The sanctuary is open for quiet meditation.” On stormy, blustery evenings, people from off the streets slipped into an oasis of welcome: candles glowing, Christmas decorations glistening, musicians softly playing the songs of Christmas on cello, guitars, and mandolin.
A quiet refuge where those who were homeless could sit for a few moments alongside others who were taking a break from bustling between stores. One mother bundled her energetic sons inside to sit for a moment and then each lit a candle in prayer. Another person asking hesitantly at the door, “Is it ok if I come in, or is this for members only?”
Inside this sanctuary there are no outsiders. That’s the Gospel.
Eugene Peterson describes it well in his introduction to the Gospel of Luke in The Message:
“Most of us, most of the time, feel left out—misfits. We don’t belong. Others seem to be so confident, so sure of themselves, ‘insiders’… in a club from which we are excluded.
One of the ways we have of responding to this is to… join a club that will have us. Here is at least one place where we are ‘in’ and the others ‘out’…The one thing these clubs have in common is the principle of exclusion. Identity or worth is achieved by excluding all but the chosen. The terrible price we pay for keeping all those other people out so that we can savor the sweetness of being insiders is a reduction of reality, a shrinkage of life.
Nowhere is this price more terrible than when it is paid in the cause of religion. But religion has a long history of doing just that, of reducing the huge mysteries of God to the respectability of club rules, of shrinking the vast human community to a ‘membership.’ But with God there are no outsiders.
Luke is a most vigorous champion of the outsider. An outsider himself, the only Gentile in an all-Jewish cast of New Testament writers, he shows how Jesus includes those who typically were treated as outsiders by the religious establishment of the day: women, common laborers (sheepherders), the racially different (Samaritans), the poor.
He will not countenance religion as a club. As Luke tells the story, all of us who have found ourselves on the outside looking in on life with no hope of gaining entrance (and who of us hasn’t felt it?) now find the doors wide open, found and welcomed by God in Jesus.”
On its 10th anniversary, I am highlighting once again this declaration. It speaks to a tragic and persistent malaise in American society. I welcome new signatories. declarationonguns@gmail.com
Declaration on Gun Violence
Preamble. Pastors and leaders in the Church from throughout the US met on December 10, 2015 to express grief that we need to lead our congregations over and over in worship services of lament for senseless deaths from guns.
In the years since, our grief has deepened, our lament intensified, and our commitment to call for more strict controls on guns in our society has grown more resolute. Therefore, we invite others to join us in this Declaration.
We recognize that this is a particular cultural issue woven into our American society. A spirit of fear, enmity, racial prejudice, distrust, and violence is tragically normal in our way of life. We believe this is contrary to the gospel, and so we say, “Enough of this. No more.” There is something seriously wrong with our way of life if we tolerate violence in our society. We believe God is calling us to stop this accelerating, downward spiral of destruction. There is an urgent need for followers of the Prince of Peace to challenge the easy use of guns in our society.
Therefore, this Advent, we commit ourselves to the following implications of the call of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, as we understand it:
1. We advocate for greater restraint and stricter controls on the private use of guns. “O Lord, in you we take refuge” (Ps 7:1). “Alas for those who trust in chariots…but do not look to the Holy One of Israel” (Is 31:1). “All who take the sword will perish by the sword” (Mt 26:52). Therefore,
We renounce the advocacy by Christians for civilians’ use of deadly force against people.
We confess, repent of, and work to surmount the tragedy of daily terrorism inflicted upon victims of discrimination, racism, and prejudice in our society.
We call for restraint by our police in their use of lethal weapons.
We call for gun practice ranges to end the use of human shaped targets.
We call on our governments to implement the comprehensive prohibition of civilian ownership of assault-type guns.
We commit to exercise pastoral care toward all who have been emotionally harmed by guns as victims, or by their own use of deadly force against others as civilians, police, or military.
2. We accept the way of the cross. “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it. For what will it profit them if they gain the whole world but forfeit their life? Or what will they give in return for their life?” (Mt 16:24-26). Therefore,
We renounce the use of guns for self-defense, not because to do so is practical or because God guarantees our safety, but because we believe it’s right and it’s the call of Jesus.
We accept that the way of non-violent resistance to evil involves danger and risk, but also accept that the way of the cross is the path to the joy and peace of the Kingdom.
We follow the way of the cross because all authority belongs to Jesus, God will never leave or forsake us, and God will reconcile all things in Christ.
3. We take up the armor of the Spirit. “Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, says the Lord” (Zech 4:6). “Be strong in the Lord and in the strength of his power. Put on the whole armor of God” (Eph 6:10). Therefore,
We trust in the truth of God’s faithfulness—and stand in prayer against the powers of darkness in our society, homes, and even places of worship that feed fear, hostility, and violence.
We clothe ourselves in the righteousness of Christ—and refuse to see ourselves as more virtuous or worthy than others who equally share in the image of God.
We put on the shoes of peace—and walk into places of conflict and fear as ambassadors of the gospel of peace.
We take up the shield of faith—and defend ourselves by the trustworthiness of God.
We wear the helmet of salvation—and refuse to entertain thoughts that distract us from Jesus’ life of unconditional love.
We bear the sword of the Spirit, the Word of God—and proclaim to all God’s steadfast love.
4. We seek the justice that makes for peace. “The fruit of justice will be peace; the result of justice will be quietness and trust forever” (Is 32:17). Therefore,
We repent of ways our ancestors and we have exploited, abused, or demeaned others—and commit ourselves to make life right as steps toward reparations.
We engage in actions of focused deterrence—and work with law enforcement and civic organizations to diminish gun violence.
We reject the notion that reconciling peace comes through violence—and work for all people to experience the relational, educational, and economic opportunities necessary to flourish.
5. We pursue love for our enemies. “I say to you, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you” (Lk 6:27). Therefore,
We recognize the full weight of this command—Jesus spoke it to people whose nation was occupied by an oppressive, tyrannical foreign power who mocked their faith.
We refuse to demonize anyone—whether those who inflict violence, or those who, even in the name of Christian faith, advocate for it. We are all children in the image of God.
We obey Jesus’ simple strategies of love: refusing to hate in return, unilaterally forgiving those who harm us, doing good to people who oppose us, and continually praying for God to bless all people, even those who treat us as enemies.
6. We are confident that the goodness of God defeats evil and injustice. “So far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave room for the wrath of God; for it is written, ‘Vengeance is mine. I will repay, says the Lord.’ So, ‘if your enemies are hungry, feed them; if they are thirsty, give them something to drink; for by doing this you will heap coals on their heads.’ Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.” (Rom 12:18-21). Therefore,
We reject the personal use of deadly force.
Relying on God’s grace, we commit to lead our faith communities in acts that do good toward enemies, for this is the strongest witness to God’s love and defeat of evil, the most compelling contributor to the transformation of our enemies, the best way to de-escalate violence, and the path to build communities of peace where all can flourish as beloved children of God.
If you would like to add your name to this declaration, send your name and city to declarationonguns@gmail.com
People committing themselves to this Declaration:
Rev. Dr. Tim Dearborn, Seattle, WA
Dr. Kerry Dearborn, Seattle, WA
Rev. Dr. Joy Johnson, Sacramento, CA
Rev. Dr. Scott Herr, Paris, France
Rev. Dr. Justo González
Rev. Dr. Catherine Gunsalus González
Rev. Dr. Walter Brueggemann, Cincinnati, OH
Rev. Dr. Paul Alexander, Philadelphia, PA
Dr. Ron Sider, Lancaster, PA
Jim Wallis, Washington, DC
Dr. Christena Cleveland, Durham, NC
Dr. Miroslav Volf, Guilford, CT
Jessica Dwelle, Guilford, CT
Dr. Stanley Hauerwas
Rev. Dr. Brenda Salter McNeil, Seattle, WA
Dr. Ruth Haley Barton, Wheaton, IL
Dr. Nicolas Wolsterstorff, Grand Rapids, MI
Rev. Noel Castellanos, Chicago, IL
Rev. Michael McBride, Berkeley, CA
Rev. Dr. Mark Labberton, Pasadena, CA
Dr. David Gushee, Atlanta, GA
Rev. Bill Haley, Shenandoah Valley, VA
Rev. Colin McCartney, Toronto, ON
Fr. Joel S. Garavaglia-Maiorano, Medford, OR
Rev. Gina Casey, Phoenix, AZ
Dr. Tom Sine, Seattle, WA
Dr. Christine Arondel Sine, Seattle, WA
Rev. Dr. Juan Francisco Martínez, Pasadena, CA
Rev. Dr. Kutter Callaway, Pasadena, CA
Dr. Christopher Hays, Pasadena, CA
Dr. William Dyrness, Altadena, CA
Dr. Grace Dyrness, Altadena, CA
Dr. Amy Sherman, Charlottesville, VA
Rev. Rob Schenck, Washington, DC
Rev. Dr. Bret M Widman, Sacramento, CA
Rev. Dr. Larry Kalajainen, Island Heights, NJ
Rev. Kevin Kitrell Ross, Sacramento, CA
Pastor Sistah Pat Roundtree Rivers, Sacramento, CA
Pastor Ben Rivers, Jr., Sacramento, CA
Rev. Jon L. Wasson, Austin, TX
Rev. Dr. Chris Neufeld-Erdman, Davis, CA
Kristyn Komarnicki, Philadelphia, PA
Rev. Mike Neelley, Mount Vernon, WA
Dr. Jim Caldwell, Seattle, WA
Rev. Eliana Maxim, Seattle, WA
Marisa Gulbranson Gronholz, Seattle, WA
Sara McMahon, Seattle, WA
Rev. Dr. Randolph Miller, Medford, OR
Chris Hoke, Mount Vernon, WA
Sarah Withrow King, Philadelphia, PA
Bishop Robert L. Fitzpatrick, Honolulu, Hawaii
Rev. Matt Blazer, Simsbury, CT
Alan Cooper, Chicago, IL
Rev. Steve Bieghler, Pomona, CA
Deborah Mariah Martin, Ridgefield, CT
Rev. Silas West, Omaha, NE
Jenni Malyon, Mount Vernon, WA
Matt Malyon, Mount Vernon, WA
Dr. Tracy S. Williams, Walla Walla, WA
Rev. Dr. John C. Bangs, Seattle, WA
Rev. Fr. Primo C. Racimo, Chicago, IL
Rev. Dawn M. Frankfurt, Wichita, KS
Rev. Will Norman, Woodland, CA
Rev. Dr. Zdravko Zack Plantak, Loma Linda, CA
Rev. Stephen Price, Annapolis, MD
Rev. JJ Kissinger, Seattle, WA
Ann Tremain Smith, Vienna, VA
Ken Kierstead, Seattle, WA
Cameron Smith, Seattle, WA
Jessica Wilson, Portland, OR
Rev. Andy Wade, Hood River, OR
Rev. Dr. Daniel M. Saperstein, Saginaw, MI
Rev. Daniel Hutt, Palo Alto, CA
Deb Steinkamp, Bellingham, WA
Geraldine Rostron Afshari, Encinitas, CA
Steve Haas, Federal Way, WA
Rev. Jennifer Ackerman, Pasadena, CA
Rev. Randy Brothers, Seattle, WA
Rev. Ruth Billington, Fort Collins, CO
Loretta M Pain, Seattle, WA
Rev. C. Earl Mahan, Wichita, KS
Rev. Renée Notkin, Seattle, WA
Dr. Max Hunter, Seattle, WA
Rev. Elizabeth Brick, Woodland, CA
Anna Scott Bell, Washington, D.C.
Rev. Ken Sunoo, Seattle, WA
Rev. Gary R. Weaver, Pueblo, CO
Rev. Gregg Jennings, Fredericksburg, VA
Ryan Church, Seattle, WA
Ann Pascoe-Van Zyl, Atlantic Highlands, NJ
Pamela Chesser, Dixon, CA
Rev. Douglas Stephen Abel, Vassar, MI
Carol Furlong, Woodland, CA
Dr. Kent Drescher, San Jose, CA
Rev. Hyun Hur, Pasadena, CA
Rev. Sue Park-Hur, Pasadena, CA
Rev. Dr. Matthew L. Camlin, New Wilmington, PA
Rev. Sophia DeWitt, Fresno, CA
Dale Davis, Bristol, VA
Joel Scott, Waco TX
Mark McDonnel, Kyiv, Ukraine
Dr. David Lincicum, South Bend, IN
Janet Lim, New York, NY
Rev. Dr. Matthew Poole, Ellicott City, MD
Rev. Frank Famadas, San Juan, PR
Rusty Van Patten
Dr. Kevin Neuhouser, Seattle, WA
Linda Jean Voth, Fresno, CA
Brian Valley, Seattle, WA
Calia Beougher Rodriguez, Dallas, TX
Bishop Gregory V. Palmer, Worthington, OH
Kristie McDowell-Karn
Rev. Andrew Burns, Alger, OH
Br. Lorenzo Thomas, Delaware, OH
Rev. Samuel D. Kim, New York, NY
Rev. Kristine O’Brien, Oakville, ON
Dr. Craig Detweiler, Los Angeles, CA
Jessica Miller, Seattle, WA
Rev. YuJung Hwang, Ellicott City, MD
Tom Getman, Washington, DC
Dr. Jay Beaman, Portland, OR
Tim Otto, San Francisco, CA
Mike O’Leary, Seattle WA
Debora Gish, San Francisco, CA
Rev. Dr. Sally L. Godard, McMinnville, OR
Byron Borger, Dallastown, PA
Valerie Ralston, Mi Wuk Village, CA
David A. Oertel, Dayton OH
Virginia Gilbert, St. Louis, MO
Rev. Aaron Cho, Seattle, WA
Kent Hotaling, McMinnville, OR
Kay Hotaling, McMinnville, OR
Rev. Lynne Faris Blessing, Seattle, WA
Rev. Gregory A. Wright, Louisville, KY
Rev. Deborah Davis, Angola, IN
Rev. Ian Morgan Cron, Franklin, TN
Rev. Donna Simon, Kansas City, MO
Rev. Linda Motley, Floyd, VA
Rev. Dr. Mikael Broadway, Durham, NC
Barney Wiget, San Francisco, CA
Rev. Dr. Gary Blaine, Walton, KS
Rev. Mark A. Hanna, Fort Collins, CO
Bishop Paul W. Nisly, Grantham, PA
Chaplain Brent Hoy-Bianchi, Reno, NV
Rev. Josh McQueen, Kirkland, WA
Dr. Andrew Ryder, Seattle, WA
Peter Scott, Aberdeen, Scotland
Rev. Dr. Glen A. Taylor, Los Angeles, CA
Steven Park, Washington, DC
Rev. Brian Metzger, Raleigh, NC
Dr. Beth Stovell, Calgary, AB
Dr. Michael McNichols, Irvine, CA
Rev. Dr. Deborah Hannay Sunoo, Seattle, WA
Beth Williamson
Dr. Lindy Backues, Philadelphia, PA
Rev. Thomas Michel, S.J, Doha, Qatar
Rev. Amy Graham, Washington, DC
Scott Tjernagel, New Braunfels, TX
Rev. Samantha Drennan, Allentown, PA
Rev. Dr. Phil Stout, Jackson, MI
Rev. Michael Higgs, Las Vegas, NV
Ben Pitzen, Lansdale, PA
Dr. Ken McNichols, Seattle, WA
Rev. Drew Henderson, Kansas City, MO
Rev. Kathy Turner, Seattle, WA
Rev. Dr. Gregory Turner, Seattle, WA
Samuel Lufi, Philadelphia, PA
Rev. Neely McQueen, Redmond, WA
Rev. T. Abigail Murphy, Stewart Manor, NY
Rev. Roger S. Greene, Cincinnati, OH
Rev. Mario R. Padilla,West Liberty, Iowa
Sarah Jessen, Cos Cob, CT
Pat Swanson, Redmond, WA
Rev. Michelle Wahila, Paris, France
Rev. Ebony Adedayo, Roseville, MN
Rev. Phil Nellis, Seattle, WA
Rev. Khristi Adams, Washington, DC
Timekia Faulkner, Peoria, IL
Dr. Christopher James, Dubuque, IA
Guillermo Mario Jimenez. Everett, WA
Rebecca Loaiza, Tequesta, FL
Michelle Wahila
Rev. Brad Wong, San Francisco, CA
Glenn Smouse, Corvallis, OR
Dr. Ken Kessler, Richmond, VA
Allen Johnson, Dunmore, West VA
Sarah Camp, Albuquerque, NM
Glenn Parks, Richmond Hill, GA
Tamaria Parks, Richmond Hill, GA
Rev. Duane Beck, Raleigh, NC
Rev. Brian Wright, Firestone, CO
Dr. Donald Zeyl, Kingston, RI
Rev Eric Nicolaysen, Sacramento, CA
Terry McNichols, Seattle, WA
Dr. Johonna Turner, Harrisonburg, VA
Rev. Dr. Scott Dudley, Bellevue, WA
Gretchen Saalbach, Boston, MA
John Weirich, Greenville, SC
Nikki Toyama-Szeto, Washington, DC
Rev. Dr. Dan Price, Eureka, CA
Rev. Dr. Gary Gulbranson Bellevue, WA
Trevor Osterman, Seattle, WA
Dr. JeDon Emenhiser, McKinleyville, CA
Dr. Tracy Revoir, Portland, ME
Rev. Paul Belz-Templeman, Canby, OR
Rev. Dr. Doug Kelly, Seattle, WA
Elizabeth Smith, Eureka, CA
Nathan Smith, Eureka, CA
Dr. Christopher B. Hays, Pasadena, CA
Devon Rupin, Paris, France
Rev. Rebecca Kuiken, Elkhart, IN
Joe Schlie, Paris, France
Rola Al Ashkar, Beirut, Lebanon
Rev. Tom Kent, Nashville, TN
Rev. Dr. Sam Kim, New York, NY
Rev. Douglas Fondell, Palm Springs, CA
Dr. R. Darrell Smith, Conyers, GA
Pastor Jean Cooper, Barnesville, OH
Sean Gladding, Lexington, KY
Rev. Dr. Don Hamilton, Red Lodge, MT
Sharon Brugger Norton, Goshen, IN
Jenn Cavanaugh, Seattle
Oystein Setvik, Whidbey Island, WA
It’s now almost a year since this original post. As the war in Gaza passes 365 days, with grievous suffering; and as the war escalates throughout the region, I return again to the question of how do we pray in times like this?
I sense we have heavy hearts. I do. It’s in the air. There seems to be war all around us—in our bodies’ illnesses and addictions, the estrangement in our homes, the culture wars fracturing societies, and horrific violence between neighborhoods and nations. We name these heartaches and horrors every Sunday in our corporate prayers.
We try praying polite prayers for world peace, end of conflict, protection, healing. These are good but they feel at times emotionless, not matching the horror of the moment.
We may pray partisan prayers for vengeance and victory. These, like the imprecatory psalms,[i] express our honest emotions and rage. But when we step back, we are troubled by how mean they sound.
Sometimes we may feel like the persistent widow, constantly asking God for healing and help, for intervention and peace, yet violence continues, bombs keep dropping, illness prevails, relationships shatter. We tire of asking the same things over and over. We even tire of words.
This can open us up to another dimension of prayer in wartime. We find it in Romans 8.26-27 “The Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit intercedes with groanings too deep for words. God who searches the heart, knows what the Spirit is saying because the Spirit intercedes according to the will of God.” The Message translates it, “If we don’t know how or what to pray, it doesn’t matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. He knows us far better than we know ourselves…and keeps us present before God.”
To read about three dimensions of prayer in wartime, please download the attached reflection. Feel free to share it with others.
[i] Psalms 7, 35, 55, 58, 59, 69 79, 83, 109 and 137
“I’ve lived much of my Christian life at the wrong address. My own small heart has been the center around which life rotated, seeking occasional assistance from Jesus. I now recognize that God invites us to move–so that our lives are centered in the great heart of God.”
I’m grateful to announce the release of a new book.
I believe it is the most important one I’ve ever written. It’s also the shortest. It begins with a nearly indescribable journey God took me on to encounter God’s heart of love, and then portrays a deeply personal process through which the Spirit has worked to relocate my life into our home in Christ.
Jesus repeatedly calls us to “abide” in him—to make our home in him. This responds to one of the critical illnesses of our age—homesickness. We seek a place where we are lovingly known, belong, and are safe. Without this, we resort to desperate and at times destructive measures. Coming home means joining in the wonder of God moving our fragile, frail self-preoccupied hearts into God’s vast heart of love.
This book relays conversations I’ve had with God about surmounting deep-seated patterns that keep us locked in shame, anxiety, and self-preoccupation. It also outlines very practical daily spiritual practices that are accessible to anyone, through which the Spirit “trains us in grace” (Titus 2.11-12), so that we live ever more fully in the assurance of God’s love, and view everything we encounter through Christ’s eyes of love.
It is available on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Christs-Heart-Our-Home-Dearborn/
On Nov 4, the day after the recent US Presidential election, in which we were all eagerly awaiting the outcome, my wife, Kerry, and I were invited to give a presentation through Seattle’s Urban Impact, to a very engaged and diverse group of Christian leaders who are wrestling together over issues of reconciliation.
We were asked to provide biblical guidance on Christian’s engagement in racial justice and politics.
Here are the remarks I offered. Even though the results of the Presidential election affirm today a decisive change, I believe these remarks are pertinent for the journey ahead of us:
In these days after the US Presidential election, I, like millions of others, am reeling. Regardless of who is chosen to be President, I am deeply disheartened that half the American people have voted in ways that either support or tolerate politicians whose actions and policies are deceptive, racist, misogynist, belittling of those who disagree with them, destructive of the environment, and hurtful to people who are poor and marginalized. Even more disheartening is the fact that the majority of those who call themselves Christians embrace or tolerate these values and behaviors that seem to me to be contradictory to the biblical faith. As a pastor, teacher, writer, I ask how have I, and the thousands of others who serve the most “churched” and nourished by Christian media and programs nation in the world’s history, failed so deeply? How can millions of Christians stand by while African Americans and other Persons of Color have to witness that little has changed in America’s racism and greed?
I wonder if one of the roots of our divisions over political engagement is found in our discipleship.
Is Mt 28 the “evangelistic mandate” or is it also the “discipleship mandate”? After all, Jesus said, “make disciples and teach them to observe all that I’ve commanded” (Mt 28.18-20) I wonder if the church has focused more on making believers, or maybe just contributing attenders, or are we helping one another to live as obedient disciples? It seems clear to me that to understand God’s will for our engagement in racial justice and politics, we need to know and obey Jesus’ commands.
In a Bible study this week, I heard several people repeat a very common perspective regarding Christian faith and politics. It can be summarized in 7 statements. These aren’t found as often among marginalized communities, but are frequently heard in the dominant culture and among those Christians who’ve been assimilated into it.
1. I don’t want to get political. After all, Jesus said, ‘My Kingdom is not of this world’” Mt 18.36
Yet, Jesus told us to pray, “Thy kingdom come and thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven” (Mt 6.10) How do we reconcile these statements? Our answer will shape our engagement in racial justice and politics. Politics is about how power and relationships are organized to achieve specific objectives. Jesus said, “all authority (power) in heaven and on earth has been given to me.” The Gospel is unavoidably and very fortunately, about power. But it begins (and ends) at a different place than the politics of political parties.
I didn’t grow up as a Christian, and in my youth I was very engaged in political campaigns. Now to my embarrassment, I confess that I told Kerry when we first met as 18 year olds, that I hoped to become President one day. That shifted toward engagement in the church, but rather than simply loving the church as the bride of Christ, I approached it as an instrument for social change. I pastored with the passion of a community organizer and a prophet for justice, but my power was my own activism more than the Spirit of God. It wasn’t until my mid-30s, as a burned-out pastoral social activist, that I more deeply encountered the powerful love of the Triune God through studying with James Torrance in Scotland. God lives and reigns in a diverse communion of overflowing love, Father, Son, and Spirit. This love overflows into creation—making all people in the image of God. In this triune love, there are no outsiders, no strangers, no in-group. We are of diverse ethnicities but of one race—the race of humans bearing God’s image. In contrast, our ideas of races that undergird racism are sinister social construct created by people in power to exert domination over others through social hierarchies based on skin color.
God’s triune love overflows in justice and social change. God loves justice (Is 61.8; Ps 37.28), and does justice (Ps 103.6; 140.12) And as God’s children, created in God’s image, we are called to do justice and to live in love (Amos 5.24; Deut 16.20). Our first questions aren’t what’s wrong and what do we need to do to fix it (the typical questions especially of white males); but who is God, what is God doing, and how is the Spirit leading us to participate in this?
Before going further, it’s helpful to clarify the meaning of justice. Biblically, it’s not revenge, retaliation, or retribution. It has very little do with punishment. Rather, justice is to make life right. When we justify the margin on a page, we make it straight. When we adjust a crooked picture, we straighten it out. Justice puts things to right. God’s justice is the expression of God’s love.
To go further, the Hebrew words for justice and righteousness share a common root. Justice can be thought of as life being made right around me. Righteousness is life being made right within me. Without righteousness, I risk inflicting my brokenness, neediness and pain on those around me. I need God’s right-making love to reorder me so that I grow in the life and love of the Triune God. Without justice, the misuse of power through violence, oppression, and policies and practices that hold others in poverty risk damaging our characters and souls.
No wonder we are called in the Great Requirement of Micah 6:8 to “do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with God”, for this is the nature of the God in whom “Mercy and faithfulness meet, justice and peace embrace” (Ps 85.10.) The powerful love of God works to make life right where it is most wrong, where power has been abused in ways that harm others. Thus Israel was continually called to do justice for those who are marginalized, aliens, excluded, and abused for “Remember, you were once slaves in Egypt. Therefore, you must care for widows, orphans, and strangers.’”(Dt 24.18-22) Our love for God will be most clearly evident in how we enact personal and public policies (politics) to care for those who are marginalized.
2. Our focus is on heaven. “This world is passing away.” (1 Cor 7.13) “We await a new heaven and new earth” (Rev 21.)
So why then does Jesus call us as we pray for God’s kingdom to come to earth, to “Seek first the kingdom of God and the justice of that kingdom”? (Mt 6.33) If our focus is to be only on heaven, how do we seek the Kingdom of God now, here, on earth? I propose that much of the Law in the Hebrew Bible, and much of Jesus’ teaching, especially as seen in the Sermon on the Mount, can be best understood as mandates for our public engagement, even as forms of public policies. They describe how the people of God are to live in public.
3. Jesus wasn’t involved in politics. He didn’t run for public office. He didn’t campaign or launch a movement to overthrow the empire (though he did have some zealots among his disciples).
Jesus was born into an oppressive, tyrannical regime and his life shows us how to live in the power of God’s love in ways that challenge the ruling systems. Jesus set forth his political platform, his policies for public engagement in his first sermon given in Nazareth in Lk 4. 18-19. He read from Is 61, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor, He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, and to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor (the Jubilee).”
As people took pride in and praised this hometown hero, Jesus turned the table and reminds them of God’s blessing on non-Jewish outsiders, the excluded, and the discriminated against (the widow of Sidon, and the Syrian leper Naaman). Immediately, this kind of application of a sermon to social justice and against racism enraged his congregation, and they literally tried to push him off a cliff.
Throughout his ministry he demonstrated and taught the reordering of power to make life right:
Religious change: Cleansing the Temple, “my house shall be a house of prayer for all people” (Mt 21.13; Mk 11.17); Sabbath made for us (Mk 2.27); the religious law said one thing, but “I say to you…” (Mt 5.22).
Economic change: “give to whomever asks” (Mt 5.42), “leave everything and follow me” (Mt 16.24; 19.21; Mark 8.34; 10.21; Luke 9.23; 14.33; 18.22)
Social change: “the last will be first, the first last, the greatest least and the least the greatest” (Mt 19.30; 20.16; Lk 13.30). The gospels are filled with accounts of Jesus violating social norms as he touched, affirmed, and socialized with those whom society excluded—women, tax gatherers, people with leprosy.
Cultural change: affirm outsiders and even oppressors, Syro-phoenican woman (Mk 7.24-30), Canaanite woman (Mt 15.21-28), and Centurion as having commendable faith (Mt 8.5-13)
Political change: to allow people to call him Lord was a direct challenge to Caesar. We see it in his use of irony re taxes—give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, yet get money for taxes from a fish’s mouth (Mt 17.27); love enemies
4. All political systems are corrupt and compromised. It doesn’t matter what political system we’re under. They are all dominated by greed and self-interest—so there’s no point in getting engaged.
To this the gospel says, we live now under the Lordship of Christ, who in his death and resurrection has reconciled all things, including the principalities and powers (Col 1). Oscar Romero, the famous archbishop of El Salvador, and now Saint, tried to stay out of politics in his parish ministry during El Salvador’s brutal civil war and dictatorship. However, once he drew close to those who suffered from oppression and injustice, he couldn’t stay silent and disengaged. He became a champion for those who are poor and exploited, speaking out against the brutalities of the government. It took assassination to quiet him—but even death didn’t silence him.
5. The gospel is about salvation from sin and going to heaven. We live to keep ourselves unstained by the world and prepare to go to heaven.
Yes we live with abounding hope in heaven, and our call now is to so live that we prepare signs on earth of the coming kingdom of heaven.
6. We seek to love everyone. We practice love and forgiveness with all people, and seek to live above the political disputes of our age.
Yes we practice love and forgiveness, and we also live a prophetic lifestyle: we challenge and provide a living contrast to the systems of greed, self-interest, exploitation of power for personal gain that dominate our society. We demonstrate kinship and belonging with all people.
7. Our faith is personal and private. We don’t want to mix our faith and politics.
The reality is that if we remain disengaged in political life, we are tacitly supporting the status quo. Disengagement is a form of political engagement. And if our faith doesn’t shape our politics, our social location rather than the Gospel of Jesus Christ will do the shaping.
Our faith is both personal and corporate, and our piety has deep public engagement and policy implications. As we participate in the overflowing love of the Triune God, doing justice and loving mercy, seeking the kingdom of God here, on earth, as it is in heaven, we will pursue public engagement to promote the flourishing of all people and creation. We rely on the Spirit of Truth—to lead us into all truth, the concerns on the heart of God.
Unavoidably, our social location shapes our approach to politics: whether we are comfortable or oppressed, powerful or powerless, benefiting from the system or suffering under it. Because of this, we tend to focus on those issues that are particularly relevant to our social location, personal interests, and the ways we’ve been taught to prioritize biblical convictions.
The good news is that we are given in Christ a new social location—the heart of God and citizenship in the Kingdom of God. We don’t presume to understand fully all the will and way of God, so we walk humbly—but we walk with bold, courageous humility for our hearts and our interests are being increasingly captivated by the heart of the triune God
Zacchaeus got this. The tax gatherer who was a collaborator with the oppressive empire didn’t simply thank Jesus for the forgiveness he received. Recognizing that his wealth and lifestyle were built by oppressing and exploiting others, he gave away half of his possessions and paid back anyone he’d defrauded 4 fold. (Lk 19.1-10) In the tradition of Zacchaeus, churches around the US are setting up Zacchaeus funds to pay reparations over the prosperity dominant culture Americans have gained over the centuries through the exploitation of enslaved people, and poor workers here and around the world.
The early church also understood that our faith is public and even political, though they had to do this through clandestine, and subversive strategies. They were a tiny minority in a brutal tyranny. I’ve written about this elsewhere so here simply want to note that I find it stunning the church chose highly political words for our life together. The words for community (Koinonia), Lord (Kyrios—the title of the Emperor), Sacrament, (the oath of loyalty taken by soldiers when enlisting in the military) and even the word for worship were appropriated by the church, uprooting them from their common political and social use.
We see it also in the church’s response to poverty. The new norm was for each to give so that no one was in need (Acts 4.32-44) so that there was no longer a “needy person among them”; and each give so that there might be equity, a fair balance (2 Cor 8).
Another illustration is found in the church’s response to slavery. At first read, the New Testament seems to endorse slavery (“slaves, serve your masters as you would the Lord”—Eph 6.5). Slave-owners have certainly appropriated this verse throughout American history. Yet enslaved people were eagerly welcomed into the church, and worshipped alongside others with equality and honor. Somewhere between 15 and 20% of the Roman Empire were enslaved. To call for their release would have provoked a violent crackdown. Instead, Paul was much more clandestine. We see this in the tiny, one chapter book of Philemon. It’s easy to wonder why it made it into the Canon of Scripture. There doesn’t seem to be any great doctrinal teaching here. However, it’s a precious gem, portraying the radical biblical approach to social engagement. To remind you of the story, Onesimus was a runaway slave who Paul led him to the Lord. He then sends Onesimus back to his former owner, Philemon. At first glance, that seems like a horrible endorsement of slavery. However, Onesimus carries this one page letter from Paul, in which Paul says, in v. 17, receive Onesimus as your brother in Christ. He has become so dear to me, treat him like you were treating me.
Philemon got the message. It turns out the Onesimus went on to become a bishop in the church, something he couldn’t have done if he was still enslaved. The overflowing love of the Triune God led to public engagement that made life right.
In the book, Divided by Faith, which I imagine many of you have read, the authors expose the tendency of Christians in the dominant culture to view reconciliation primarily about establishing good interpersonal relationships. The authors documented how most African American Christians and persons of color value good relationships, but also stress the need for changing unjust social systems through public engagement. Kerry and I recognize we live and talk from our context in the dominant culture. We have so much to learn from our brothers and sisters of color.
The Role of Pulpits in Forming Personal Convictions and Public Policies
Tim A. Dearborn
As we enter into the final days of the 2020 political campaign, I am reposting an excerpt from a chapter I wrote in Discerning Ethics. What is the role of the church–and of preachers–in helping people think through the pressing issues of our day?
Is the church becoming “political” when it engages in issues of public ethics?
Some believe that the church should be a “big tent” that welcomes everyone and from which no one feels excluded because of political positions or ethical convictions. Pastors should not get “political” from the pulpit. To preach about issues of racism, immigration, poverty, climate change, income inequality, mass incarceration, etc. is, according to some people, to stray away from the Bible and the “spiritual” calling of the church. Others seek for churches to be highly engaged in a few select issues they choose, and to be silent or indifferent about others. Consequentially, social ethics are emerging as more decisive factors than worship style or doctrine in people’s choice of church attendance…
We believe there is an urgent necessity for our churches to offer graciously reasoned, theologically shaped, courageous conversations about all the tough issues we face in our society today. Otherwise, Christians will be more likely to derive their convictions from their social location and their favorite media sources, and allow these to shape their reading of Scripture and positions about the ethical issues of our day. When this occurs, churches are likely to be driven by the winds of culture rather than the Spirit. As a result, churches are often viewed by society as irrelevant, divisive, or compliant in regard to critical issues of injustice.
The Christian faith is unavoidably political
However, there’s another, specifically theological reason. I believe that the Christian faith is unavoidably political. Because as followers of Christ we believe in a God who is sovereign over human life and reigns in justice, mercy, and love—our faith has political implications.
Consider the relationship of politics, power, and justice. Politics is about power—the use of power to attain particular objectives. Justice is about making life right by using power to restore relationships so that all people flourish. Justice uses politics to rectify imbalanced and ruptured relationships when some people misuse power in ways that hurt other people and creation. Politics in a representative democracy depends on people making principled compromises with other people with whom they disagree. Even when this may feel like compromises to their principles, the use their power to work together to attain mutually acceptable (even though partial) steps toward the common good.
The early church was well aware of the use and misuse of power as it grew and suffered under the tyranny of the Roman Empire. Christians didn’t have the privilege of citizenship in a representative democracy. Rather, they lived under the oppression of an occupying dictator. Nonetheless, we can discern a dynamic way they engaged with the political realities of their day. Clues are found in the clandestinely confrontational adoption by the church of Greco-Roman political terms to describe their own movement. They took common, ordinary political terms and filled them with a radical, new meaning. Their use of these terms expressed their theological convictions about the relationship of Christ’s Kingdom to the political rulers of the world. By claiming these political terms for the Christian movement, and especially for the Lord Jesus, the early church quietly rejected the authority of Caesar to determine the will of God for the issues of their lives.[1] Consider for example:
Basilea (kingdom): the term used to describe the Empire by Rome—or rather—the reign of God on earth by the church.
Evangelion (gospel): a pronouncement by the Roman Empire that a battle had been won or an heir to Caesar had been born—or rather—the news announced by the church that Christ has triumphed over sin and evil.
Ekklesia (church): the public assembly of all the citizens of the Empire in a region to discuss local political concerns—or rather— the gathering of Christians to conduct the affairs of God’s Kingdom.
Koinonia (fellowship): a homogenous gathering of like-minded citizens segmented by gender and socio-economic status—or rather—the heterogeneous gathering of Christian men and women of all ethnicities, social classes, and economic backgrounds.
Sacramentum (sacrament): the oath of loyalty taken by a soldier upon enlisting in the Roman military, declaring there was no higher authority in his life than Caesar, and no greater loyalty than to the Empire—or rather—the visible signs of God’s commitment to us and our commitment to God expressed in the church’s central ceremonies such as baptism and Holy Communion.
Proskynesis (worship): bowing in submission before the ruler or emperor—or rather—worshiping the triune God, Father, Son, and Spirit.
Parousia (presence, or coming): the coming of Caesar to a town, and especially his return to Rome—or rather—the return of Lord Jesus to usher in the Kingdom in all its fullness.
Soter (savior): the title of Caesar Augustus whose rule ended chaos in Rome—or rather—the role of Jesus as the liberator, redeemer, and healer of the world.
Kyrios (lord): ruler or supreme leader—or rather—Jesus as the one who reigns over heaven and earth.
The biblical faith deals constantly with the concerns of “politicians.” Because the biblical faith compels concern for people who are without power, excluded from community, victims of injustice, abused by those in authority, and identified as unworthy or undesirable—tensions between the life of the people of God and their life as citizens of the state are inescapable. Loyalty to Jesus as Lord and Savior requires that they insist that in their personal lives and Christian community they care for the marginalized, the oppressed, the aliens, and strangers.
The subversive strategy of appropriating highly political language to describe the Gospel sent an unavoidably clear message to politicians.
A professor at a Christian university recently asked students who they thought had said the following words: “He has scattered the proud…He has brought down the powerful from their thrones and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty.” The students debated back and forth for a few minutes, trying to identify the words with some revolutionary in history. They were dumbfounded when the professor put on the screen the rest of the passage from Luke 1:46-55—Mary’s Magnificat, as she praised God for the birth of her Son—and the clear social implications of his birth.
Common approaches to preaching and politics
In spite of the unavoidable, political implications of Christian faith, many churches are confused about how to address public policy and political issues from the pulpit. There are four prevailing approaches that are clearly evident and that significantly divide congregations. These are seldom discussed openly so that a community can discern which approach it thinks is best. Rather, people tend to vote “with their feet” and leave a church that has deviated from their preferred form of political engagement.
In order to make the best use of the insights that have been gained by working through the diverse positions outlined in this book, it may be helpful for congregations to debate and determine what they believe is the best relationship between the pulpit, personal convictions, and public policies.
Silent Pulpit: Some insist that preachers must avoid mentioning anything that might seem political because it is outside the purpose of preaching and/or the church.
Pros:
Little risk of criticism
Little dispute and controversy among members
Little risk of imposing ideology or the preacher’s own view on members
Cons:
Preachers fail to offer biblical/theological insights on pressing issues
Preachers risk reinforcing sacred/secular, spiritual/world dichotomies
Preachers miss the opportunity to help members work for justice in society
Silence can actually reinforce social injustice and political evil
Civic Pulpit: Some leaders encourage members to engage in politics and voting as individuals, but do not offer any corporate reflection or discussion about the issues of the day.
Pros:
This promotes Christian engagement in public policy issues and elections.
It affirm that the biblical faith includes public engagement in the common good
Cons:
Again, preachers can fail to offer biblical/theological insights on pressing issues
There is the risk of the preacher implicitly endorsing a candidate or public policy position through nuance and the preacher’s personal position.
There is the missed opportunity to reflect biblically and theologically about current issues.
Partisan Pulpit: Some churches want their preachers to advocate for specific public policy issues and even candidates they believe uphold biblical values and commitments.
Pros:
This provides clear guidance to congregants about how to vote.
This can enable a corporate impact on public policies and elections.
Cons:
Historically, it has been illegal in the United States.
This risks the imposition by the preacher or influential members on the congregation of their own convictions
It risks furthering division within a congregation and between churches.
Congregations can become more strongly identified with political positions than with the gospel of Jesus Christ
Principled Pulpit: In this approach, the preacher proclaims his or her own understanding of biblical principles that should undergird voting on candidates and public policy issues without necessarily explicitly endorsing a particular person or position.
Pros:
This concentrates on biblical teaching regarding justice, racism, corruption, poverty, marriage, medical ethics, economics, etc.
It encourages members to think “biblically” about issues.
Preachers don’t endorse particular legislation or candidates.
This avoids deepening partisan divides in their congregations.
Cons:
Preachers risk speaking from their own personal biases and convictions.
Preachers risk promoting uninformed positions that don’t grasp the complexity of issues.
Preachers risk presumptuously using the pulpit and the name of God to advocate for particular perspectives.
There is still the risk of provoking disputes and controversies within the congregation.
Thus there is the risk of people leaving because they disagree with the preacher becoming “political”.
Our conviction is that these “cons” of the principled pulpit can be surmounted if the congregation hears the voices of people from diverse socio-economic and ethnic backgrounds so that one social location doesn’t dominate. They can also be ameliorated by the preacher being humble in the voicing of her or his own convictions—“I wonder if…”, and by opportunities being provided for congregational discussion and courageous conversations that honor diverse points of view.
The urgent issues of our day demand a clear and compelling response from the church. May congregations become places of deep dialogue and prayerful reflection about the call of God as we participate in the Messiah’s work of lifting up the lowly and filling the hungry with good things. May congregations embody koinonia shaped by God’s grace so that all people, whether rich or poor, high social class or not, well educated or with little formal education, regardless of skin color or ethnicity are drawn by the Spirit into the life of Christ.
Just as with the early church, God is calling us to be empowered, wise followers of Christ who live and lead at the convergence of proskynesis (worship) of the One Kyrios (Lord), preaching the evangelion (gospel) of the one Christos (messiah), affirming through the sacramentum (sacraments) that there is no higher loyalty or authority in our life than Jesus, and participating in the justice, mercy, and love of God’s basilea (kingdom).
[1] For more on this see: John Howard Yoder, The Politics of Jesus (Eerdmans, 1994); N.T. Wright, The Resurrection of the Son of God(Augsburg Fortress, 2003); Richard Horsley, Jesus and Empire (Augsburg Fortress, 2002); Ekkehard Stegman and Wolfgang Stegman, The Jesus Movement: A Social History of its First Century (Augsburg Fortress, 1999); and more recently, Shane Claiborne and Chris Haaw, Jesus for President (Zondervan, 2008).
Notes from an amazing Bible Study
Every week, I have the gift of participating in a very remarkable Bible study with 25 to 30 other men, from very diverse backgrounds, through an organization called DADS. Currently we are constrained to meet on Zoom, but that hasn’t reduced the depth of our interaction. A few weeks ago, our study brought us to Matthew 8. Typing as quickly as possible, and without identifying names of contributors in order to honor our commitment to confidentiality, here’s a summary of what people shared. I’ve tried to note exact statements with quotation marks and italics.
Clearly, we are living in an age of deep disruption. The economic, social, and political upheaval being experienced here in Seattle, throughout our nation, and around the world are hopefully deeper and more far-reaching than anything we’ve seen before. As always, the question we are asking is what is God doing in the midst of this?
In order to answer that, we need to clarify in what God do we believe? Matt 8.27 provides a good question for us. The disciples asked, regarding Jesus, ‘What sort of man is this?’”
Here are people’s reflections: “I get that question. Who is this man? He doesn’t seem to have common sense. He seems insensitive to the acceptable way of doing things, and even to people’s financial, family, and emotional needs. We want him to be our servant, to take care of us, and to provide for our financial, emotional, physical, and spiritual needs. Yet, that doesn’t seem to be his priority.”
“I wonder, does Jesus really knows us and cares about us. In response, I wonder if the issue is not how much Jesus knows me and provides for what I want, but how much do I know Jesus and live according to his will.”
“In V 29 we see that even the demons know Jesus better than the disciples: ‘What do you have to do with us, Son of God?’”
We then looked at the text and listed ways that Jesus demonstrates his authority. Throughout chapter 8 we see ways Jesus demonstrates that he is Lord. He has authority unlike anything ever seen.
- He commands diseases (leprosy, and the illness of Peter’s mother-in-law) to go and they go.
- He commands storms to stop and they stop.
- He commands the crowds to leave and they depart.
- He commands demons to get out and they flee. “Jesus has authority over the demonic principalities and powers, systems and structures that prevail in our society and world.” “It seems to me that the US criminal justice system exercises demonic power over people.” “And yet, it was through seven years in prison that I had my own ‘great disruption’ and finally gave my life to Jesus.”
The Real Jesus is the great disrupter of the ways our societies organize position, privilege and power in order to establish new kingdom of justice and equity. Will we follow this Jesus into something better, more equitable and just? Or will we create an idol to protect our position and privilege? Or will we ask God simply to rearrange the old order to create different ways to structure power and privilege to advantage some at others’ expense?
If we are following the real Jesus, we will be engaged in redemptive disruption, and choose and follow leaders who disrupt the current ordering of power and privilege that only benefit some, so that our society is committed to the common good
We reviewed the 1st half of Mt 8 and reminded ourselves of how the chapter confronts us with a Jesus who affirms the faith of non-Jews and challenges Jewish ordering of who is to be considered an insider and who’s an outsider, who is privileged and who can be ignored, who is clean and who is unclean.
- V1 leper—touches and heals unclean
- V 5 centurion—affirm his faith as greater than anyone he’s seen in Israel
- V 14 Peter’s mother in law—touch woman
Then we listed ways the 2nd half causes us to question if this is really the one we want to follow. We were struck by the truth that this Jesus doesn’t do what we want a nice God to do, provide for us and protect us. He disrupts our established order of power and privilege
- V 20 security: no where to lay head
- V 22 position: led dead bury dead
- V 25 protection: “master, don’t you care that we’re perishing?” To which Jesus says, in V 26 why are you afraid about your circumstances
- V 34 when people’s prosperity and entire way of life were threatened, they begged him to leave. “It seems to me that here we have one of the most honest statements in the Bible, v. 34 “They begged Jesus to leave their neighborhood.” “Will I come close to Jesus, or will I push him away?”
So how do we deal with principalities and powers, and with demonic social structures?
“When Jesus healed the demoniac, he told him to go home—rather than to leave everything and come with Jesus.” “Go back to bring healing and well-being there”
“Sometimes it’s there, in my ordinary daily interactions, that it is hardest to follow Jesus. “If I’m committed to doing what’s right, how will I have the capacity to persist in doing what’s right while people keep telling me to keep quiet, or that it’s wrong”
“We need to remember that our weapons are the armor of God, not weapons of flesh” “The Son of Man came to destroy the works of the devil. This is the root of the great disruption.”
In response, one man gave an extended personal reflection: “OK then, how do I follow this Jesus as a black man in an open carry state? Loyalty is a big value to me. I’m not afraid of the police, but of white privilege. I’m afraid living in an open carry state. Twice in the past week I’ve been confronted by white men, who threatened me. One time, I pulled up at gas station first, but a white man behind me wanted me to back out and let him be there first. As a black Christian, I didn’t feel like I had any other option but to back up, and not defend myself. As a Christian, because that’s the way of Jesus. As a black man, because otherwise I could get shot or arrested.
“When I go to protest, it’s not just for George Floyd. I’m protesting everything that ever happened to me over my lifetime, living in a white supremacy world.”
“I’m not afraid of being killed. When I began to follow Christ, I’ve asked him to take me home for I’m tired of being here. Rather, I’m afraid because as a Christian, I live with other people who call themselves Christian but who seem to be following their white privilege rather than Jesus. The Jesus I read about taught people to obey everything he taught. It seems to me that white privilege Christians want Jesus to help others obey whatever will protect their white position and privilege. So I’m afraid because I fear I might react as an injured black man rather than as someone who has already died to myself as a follower of Christ. I’m afraid I will retaliate, seek revenge, and defend myself.
“What Jesus do I follow? It seems every white supremacist claims to be a Christian. The guy in the gas station who ordered me to move, and was packing a gun, had a Christian bumper sticker on his car. To I follow and obey their Jesus, or the one I about read in the Bible?
“I want to see them following Jesus on the streets saying that all this racist crap is wrong. I don’t see that Jesus on the streets and it bugs me. It gives me problem with my faith. I don’t see white Christians loudly disputing that—showing me on the streets the Jesus of the Bible. And so this brings me to issues of loyalty. First, I’ve sworn loyalty to Jesus. Second, he orders me to be loyal to Christians, and trying to be loyal to white supremacist Christians hurts a lot. So, it’s very hard for me to be a Christian. I feel like all I can do is say “Yes master”, close my mouth, back up my car, and shut up. Third, if I retaliate, I break my loyalty to my daughters, because I promised them that they would never get another phone call from me saying I’m in jail because I lost my temper.”
“How do we live as black Christians in an open carry state, and continue to be of good cheer because Jesus has overcome the world?”
We concluded by affirming that Jesus said, “Follow me”—regardless of where I lead you.
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