Promises

Letters to My Adult Children: Miscellaneous Ramblings - If I am Disturbed... April 2020

Remember the three-legged stool I taught you? I learned those legs in 12-step recovery - not grad school. One of the three legs is: "If I am disturbed, the problem is in me." This letter is about this truism.

I imagine in a different era and if you were different ages Mary Jane and Brad would be Aunt MJ & Uncle Brad. They are really good friends to Pabs and me. One day Mary Jane and I were talking about the evolution of our therapists' guild and the devolution of our school.

The Seattle School taught me so much: The idea of the I/Thou relationship, Esther Meeks' covenant epistemology, a possible understanding (which has become my understanding) of how the mind works, all about shame, the difference between niceness and kindness, a new Biblical theology, a fleshed-out theology of freedom, the concept of "And" instead of "But," a theology of Holy Saturday, a fleshed-out theology of the Imago Dei, attachment theory, play therapy and the importance of play, and that I need to create space for intersections of thoughts and ideas to become more fully engaged (I learned as an undergrad that ideas of consequences). 

As Mary Jane and I compared notes about our alma mater and the state of our guild (The ACA), she was not surprised/surprised to learn that our grad school was not welcoming to "non-progressive" thinkers; and that there was an underground of students that learned to simply keep our mouths shut in order not to be ostracized, labeled, called names and attacked by other students. One would think that Esther Meeks' ideas would stop some of the blatant condemnation that marks so much of the intercourse surrounding how one approaches life, and indeed I think it did mitigate some of the fallout. But, it certainly didn't stop the prejudice.

I want to be very careful because while I was there, the faculty and administration were rarely condemning of other voices and ideas. The condemnation was primarily limited to the student body. And, to this day, I do not know of a school that teaches counseling/psychology where it is possible to get the level of instruction I received and not have to face a progressive fundamentalist epistemology of black and white thinking that effectively destroys dialogue with other ideologies and perspectives. The idea of holding the "&" is an ideal that I was taught at The Seattle School. And, yet, while the Seattle School holds it as well as any counseling grad school you can name -- it still fails miserably. Institutions are rarely perfect. 

But beyond that, Mary Jane stated that our therapists' guild is losing our way and we are becoming social workers. We are not helping people change, adapt, and become more resilient (a traditional role of a therapist), as much as we are pointing out and working to change the injurious system (the traditional role of a social worker). This is important because injustice will always surround us, no matter the ideological system we create. Woody Allen pointed this out admirably in his movie, "Sleeper."

The Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous tells the story of a doctor who knew that the problem was always, "out there." He believed if only the world would be fixed, he'd be OK. He learned in AA that such a belief is errant. If "the problem" is "out there," individuals give away their power to find joy and peace. This is why AA teaches its members the serenity prayer, "God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I can't change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference." Only by understanding what we can and cannot change can we begin to find peace.

We can only change ourselves. We can't change others. We can't lay our hope in systems changing in order for justice to run down and people to find wholeness. Wholeness is not found in external sources. Wholeness is discovered when we can assimilate the exiled parts of ourselves, which we want to ignore, and "re-member" them differently, interact with them compassionately and become whole instead of remaining fragmented and broken. Shit guys, whole books could be written fleshing out this paragraph! I guess that is why I went to grad school; in order to begin to embody the truths I just articulated and help others do so. This is why I am a therapist and a rebel for love

 

Letters to My Adult Children: Look for the Good - February 2019

In 1994,  a weird and wonderful spiritual event began. The BBC labeled it the Toronto Blessing and the name stuck. For many, it was the stuff of a horror show. For others, it was a movement of the Spirit of God they had prayed for their whole lives. People got on their hands and knees and barked like dogs or fell over while convulsing violently. Others experienced miraculous physical healings. The conservative church watched it in horror. Mainline churches were bemused. And charismatics and Pentecostals flocked to it as if it were Mecca. they hoped to be a part of something they saw as a miraculous movement of God.

During that time, an intellectual, mainline Presbyterian minister named Bob Ekblad who spent much of his life working with the poorest of the poor in Honduras and then, upon returning to the USA, worked with men just-released from prison was invited to go to Toronto to experience the phenomena with a family member.

It wasn't his thing. He really didn't want to go. He was a social justice guy and the Toronto movement had little or nothing to do with justice. Toronto was about a supernatural experience of God. For some reason, Ekblad ended up going. Before he went, he spent some time praying and was impressed that though he might see 100 things he couldn't stand, he needed to look for "one good thing." He listened and went to Toronto keeping his eyes open for one good thing. And, while there, the Holy Spirit moved in him in ways he couldn't explain.

He was changed because he looked for the one good thing. He still works for justice, among those on the margins, but now when he lays hands on people to pray with them, there is a power that can't be explained any other way than that it comes from God.

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I was at Hillsdale College in the fall of 1986 when Dad surprised me with a phone call. Remember this was before cell phones. We stood in the dorm's stairwells to talk to our family and friends on the payphone. There was one on each end of each floor in the dorm. My dormmate said, "Hurry, it is some sort of emergency." 

Dad explained that he and Mom rushed home to Portland from Idaho, canceling one of their evangelistic missions, because Mom was in incredible pain. Once home, the doctors performed emergency exploratory surgery and discovered tumors in Mom's abdomen that were pressing on her spinal cord and major organs. Dad told me that they were the size of my fists -- bigger than a softball. They closed her up because it would have been too dangerous to remove the tumors given their proximity to her spine and vital organs. In another week, Mom & Dad were scheduled to be in Vermont for more meetings. Dad wanted to cancel because Mom couldn't go. She didn't want him to. He needed to go. We arranged for me to fly out to meet Dad in her stead since the dates coincided with my fall break. My fraternity pitched in money so I could buy the emergency ticket.

There wasn't really much hope for Mom. The doctors told her they would do what they could and scheduled a catscan in order to pinpoint the radiation that they would shoot at her. They weren't talking about a cure. They were talking about doing the best that they could. The tumors they had seen during surgery were simply too big. The catscan was scheduled for the Thursday I arrived in Vermont to join Dad. The week before Mom called their pastor, Dwight Steele and asked, "Do you believe James 5?" Now, James 5 tells sick people to call for elders to pray for them in order that they may be healed. Conservative Baptists typically didn't believe in the miraculous, and typically didn't follow through on Jame's teaching.

Being crafty, Mom knew Dwight couldn't say no to her question because he couldn't say he didn't believe Scripture. In essence, she tricked him. And to his credit, scared as he acknowledged himself being, he studied, prayed and called the elders together to pray for Mom on the Wednesday night before her catscan (the day before I flew to join Dad). Mom had to wait a long time top be prayed for that night, because Dwight questioned each of the elders, looking for uncovered sin in their lives before finally calling Mom into his office to pray for her. I don't know what anyone expected out of that time together but the next day, over my Dad's objections that there would be no news, I called Mom to find out what was going on. She announced, they can't find the tumors, they are gone. "The report says that there is a slight swelling of the lymph nodes,  and we can't rule out the possibility of lymphoma." Mom was healed, in part, because Dwight was faithful.

That same man, a longtime pastor at Montavilla Baptist Church completely screwed up when it came time to deal with me and my sexual sin and double life. His handling of the situation couldn't have done more harm to me, the church or the gospel if he'd wanted it to. He was in over his head, couldn't acknowledge it, and reacted rather than responded to the news of my sexual betrayals. He became so intent on trying to read Scripture literally that he missed its message and ended up twisting it so that it said what he wanted it to say. This gave him a license to publicly read a list of my sins during a "worship service." His friend at Portland Foursquare followed his lead, also reading a list of my sins out publicly. I think he'd still argue he was right to have done so. In case you were wondering, he wasn't. He chose the action because of his shame rather than my sin.

My family had been at Montavilla Baptist since 1969 and Mum and dad were universally loved. Mom and Dad were power brokers in the church and potential threats to any pastor coming in to shepherd the church. Pops knew that Dwight viewed our whole family as a threat. And he warned me to be careful. Dwight could be caring and fantastic as well as vindictive and cruel. Out of his respect for Dad, he went with Timothy, Dad, and me to pour out Mom's ashes at Ecola State Park, caring for us in amazing ways. Later, he allowed me to preach at my Dad's service and helped me make wise decisions surrounding that service so that I didn't alienate Timothy further and cause a wider schism between us. And then he'd do something crazy like take the elders of the church without seeking any discernment to Timothy's house to perform an exorcism because I stayed there. If there were evil spirits in the house when they prayed, it had more to do with my brother's choices than mine. He was seeing a dominatrix at the time. So Dwight practiced evil, and stupidity as well as kindness and love, all at the same time.

In my anger, I could only see his evil. In the wake of my blow out, he was one of the hardest of all the Church patriarch's for me to forgive. I seemed to be incapable of holding the good and the evil that resided in the man. And for me to heal, I needed to be able to do precisely that. I needed to see and remember the good as well as the evil that always seemed to blind me to the good. He was not as evil as I made up in my mind that he was. I had to consciously look for the good. I had to consciously choose to see it. SOmeone said, "there is a little good in the worst of us and a little bad in the best of us." My job is to see the good while acknowledging the evil. It is in that balance that I find freedom.

The biggest example of this is Mom. You know her story. She was an early pioneer in the women's movement in the church. She was the first person - male or female - to produce a weekly Christian radio show across Europe, She was a noted Christian women's speaker. She was a better preacher than most of the men of her day -- certainly better than Dad. Her Bible study notes are amazing. She was a poet and a performer. Hundreds, if not thousands of people found life, meaning, freedom and authenticity because she was a faithful warrior, fighting against the darkness, And, she sexually abused me in evil and horrific ways.

In spite of the horror of that, for me to be free, I need to see the "and" that allows for the good in her, Just like in the story, I told you about Dwight. I will begin with the good before citing the bad. I have to, in order to be sane. I chose to look for the good so that I can be free.

Without knowing it, most of my work in recovery has been the work of recognizing and holding the "&." I hold that my Mom was an amazing, wonderful woman who chose to act evilly. I hold that Dwight was a good man who chose evil. There are countless more stories I could tell. You have stories to tell as well.

I believe that God uses evil, pathology, and narcissistic people for good in other peoples' lives. God uses seemingly crazy things to impart His power. In discovering the good I find freedom. I look to find the image of God in the shit. When I find it, I find hope. Calling forth the image of God from the shit creates the Kingdom of God. that is why seeing the "shit and magnificence," in Paula was part of my wedding vows to her. We do well together for a lot of reasons but one of them is that we can hold the "crap and glory" (her phrase) and shit and magnificence (my phrase) that we see in ourselves and in the other.

So, for me, to be a Rebel for Love - A rebel for the Kingdom -  means that I do this work. I look for the good in the midst of the shit. In some crazy ways, this starting point is the fuel of my freedom. But I think that needs to be held for another letter.

Letters to my Adult Children # 2 -- January 2019

I remember sitting in my class, Interpersonal Foundations, with Dr. Roy Barsness. It was my first week of class at The Seattle School, and I hadn't figured out that I was no longer swimming in an Evangelical stream of thought. Roy postulated that there were three questions with which we needed to wrestle as we began our journey toward being counselors, pastors, and non-profit leaders. We needed to think about: 

1. "Who is God and what is she/he/it like?"
2. "Who are people and what is our nature?"
3. And, finally, "What is the nature and function of sin?'

Roy was about to begin deconstructing the theology of his young students. Some of us who were older sat back, crossed our arms, and silently said to ourselves, "Bring it;" while younger, less seasoned students began to seriously question things they'd been taught but never had a chance to live.

I gotta take a minute and explain something. The Seattle School is not for the faint of heart or conservatives or evangelicals who don't want to be challenged, and Roy... Well, let's just say, Roy is Roy and no one I know loves as he does. So much so, that when I graduated I went on the record to say that my goal was to love people the way he does. I never did, "buy in" to all his thinking, but because of my relationship and discussions with him, my thinking shifted. It shifted as I asked and answered the questions he posed. My answers are different than his. That is OK, we began a conversation. That conversation led to my theological shift. I say, "shift," because it didn't really change it much. I merely shifted my emphasis and focus. If I wanted to follow in the steps of Love Incarnate, I figured I had to.

As a preacher and an evangelist, I focused a lot on sin and powerlessness. It was the first point of five-point Calvinism - total depravity. Now, as a therapist and counselor, I focus on the image of God that is in everyone (see Gen 9:6). My shift didn't come about because of a job change. It came about because of my relationship with the Scriptures and my relationship with others who challenged my doctrinal emphasis. And while I still accept the doctrine of total depravity, I think about it differently than I once did.

St. Paul outlined total depravity in Ephesians 2. St Augustine fleshed the idea out and popularized it; and, then John Calvin developed the idea more fully. (Be careful with Calvin because his thinking in his early career evolved.)

The way most people think about total depravity is different from the way Calvin grew to understand it in his later years. Current teaching resembles more of what he believed early on. At least three things happened. First, people knew how shitty they felt deep down at their cores and so it was not hard to jump to the conclusion that everyone was equally as shitty and was as bad as they felt themselves to be. Secondly, powerful people began using the idea of total depravity as a way to control people and consolidate their own power. And, finally, those who disagreed with it latched onto the weakest and easiest to attack versions of it, in order to defeat it.

Most people when teaching the doctrine teach that people are as sinful as they can possibly be. They rip the line from Ephesians 2, "dead in your sins." This Idea, that we are as bad at our core so seems to me to be unsubstantiated by the rest of Scripture and, indeed, antithetical to Scripture's teaching about people being made in the image of God (or, Imago Dei).

Calvin taught in his early work that the image of God was entirely corrupted in people when we fell into sin in the garden. Later, he shifted and began to argue that we were mostly corrupted (If you want to know more about this shift, see Randall Zachman, Image and Word in the Theology of John Calvin, University of Chicago Press: Chicago, IL. pps. 64-68).

Much of the protestant church in Great Britain, America, and their colonies adopted Calvin's more strict, unbiblical, and unhealthy formulation of "total corruption" of the Imago Dei.**

It is no secret that people have taken theology and used it to control and manipulate others throughout history. We need to own and acknowledge this. But let is also be noted people have also used their Christian belief's and doctrines to change the world for good. It is really easy to look for evil and miss the good. If we miss the latter, we miss the gospel. If we miss the gospel, there is no reason to believe. Some of my good friends have chosen this route.

But historically without the Church, women would still be seen as less than human and children would not be educated and would be put to work in factories. Without the Church, slavery would still be part of everyday life. Without the Church, there would have been no civil rights movement in America. Without the church, abortion and women's circumcision would be much more prevalent. Without the Church, there would be much more war. Without the Church, "might" would still make "right" and human sacrifice would still exist as common practice. Hate and fear would be the dominant emotions of all the world, not merely rule their slice of it, and shame would have free rein.

Sorry, I took a tangent. 

We need to think about total depravity differently, more biblically and more gracefully. My formulation of the doctrine states that we are sinful in every way in which we can be sinful -- that sin touches every aspect of our life. I still believe this. I can't get away from it. Nor, do I want to. 

More importantly though, when I think about the image of God, I want to think about what it is, rather than what it isn't.  And, I approach it differently than Calvin. Calvin argued that being made in the image of God meant that we had, "soundness in all our parts."  By that, he formulated that because humans are made in the image of God, they possess wisdom, justice, and goodness. He was not incorrect. But it has to be more than that. (If you want to read more about Calvin's thinking on this, or if you need a sleep aid, read: Calvin, The Institutes of the Christian Religion, ed. John T. McNeil, trans. Library of Christian Classics, vols. 20 & 21. pg. 176). When I think of the core or foundation of the Imago Dei, I first see it as being the perfect relationship (or love). Secondly, I see it as an expression of holy freedom thirdly I see it possessing creativity (seen in its voice). And, finally as possessing all-power (or agency or differentiation -- also connected to holiness).

As we live in love; experience freedom from shame; create beauty and speak life; using power to serve the rest of creation; we begin to live life as it was designed to be lived. And so, I believe, that in order to experience the fullness of life, we need to experience the fullness of these things

My next letters will try to flesh these out a bit, in terms of their practicalities. I had to start here though because this is foundational to my belief system. I'm starting with Roy's questions. And though I took a tangent, here are my answers.

1. Who is God? God is perfect relationship -- a divine picture of true love. God is free from all constraints to love. I believe that God in her love creates beauty and wonder. I believe that he is all-powerful because of his love.
2. Who are people? People are made in the image of God and are designed to love, need to be free to love and use their power and creativity to create, protect and enjoy beauty and wonder.
3. What is sin? Sin is anything that violates relationship, for in so doing it violates the very nature of God.

Out of those three answers to the questions, Roy postulated comes all my the thinking that will follow.

 

 **Note: Powerful people have used Catholic theology to do inhumane things in the same way. They suggest that if you are not baptized you are evil and we are allowed to treat you as sub-human.

 

 

Letters to my Children: On Being an Episcopalian

We are to pass on what we've been given. If we don't, we lose that which has been entrusted to our care.

A poignant memory for me is traveling through Sault Saint Marie, Ontario, Canada. Mum turned to me as we passed by an Anglican Church (Episcopalian Church) and said, "If you are ever on the road, and don't have meetings, and don't know where to go to church; go to an Episcopalian Church. It is always a safe bet, because no matter what else happens, the gospel is always present in the liturgy of the service." Knowing what I know now, the fact that mi Mum, a Bob Jones graduate, said that is rather remarkable, and I have never forgotten it. I pass it onto you.

You know that after your Mom and I split I ended up at St Matthews in Parkrose. I was there for three or four years. I still love those folk. I think (I hope) I left well. I certainly held no malice and left because of epistemology rather than theology. If you remember, I left to go to Evergreen. I wanted to hang out with Bob Hyatt, who I considered to be one of the most innovative pastors in Portland.

While I was at St Mattie's, I joined the church. To do so, I went through confirmation, rewriting the catechism as I did so. (I need to go back and look at it to see what I wrote and how I'd change it today.) So you know, the Catechism is the training that liturgical Churches (Catholics, Lutherans, Anglicans (Episcopalians), Presbyterians, and Christian Reformed, to name some of the bigger ones) provide congregants who want to pursue membership in the church. Catechisms appear to be a series of questions and answers. Those joining the church memorize (or at least know) the answers to each of the questions in the catechism. In the old days they were tested, but not many churches test congregant's knowledge anymore.

At some point, we'll talk about the catechism (and why I re-wrote it), but for now, I only wanted you to know what it was. A brief Church history lesson will also help. Throughout the Church's history denominations form because they don't like something in the existing church. Because of this, you might say, each denomination is reactionary. Many times splits are doctrinal. But sometimes, they are not so much about theology (orthodoxy) as they are about behaviours and practices (orthopraxy). Anglicans (or Episcopalians) split from the Roman Catholics not because of theology but because of practice.

Henry VIII, the famous king who had eight wives by the time he was done, wanted a divorce from one of them. The pope wouldn't grant it, and so Henry ordered the Bishop of Canterbury to form a new church and called it, the Church of England. Though the Church was birthed under Henry, its future wasn't solidified for some years -- until after the reign of Henry's daughter, Mary, who returned England to Catholicism (killing a lot of people in the process). Mary's sister Elizabeth took the throne after Mary died, and she made the split final for political reasons. The Church of England's future was secure. During her reign, she commissioned a document called, the "39 Articles of Religion." Perhaps more than anything else, the 39 Articles defined the direction of the Church for the centuries to come. The document expounded 39 points of doctrine. A few are reactionary, while many confirm beliefs held by the Catholic Church. At this stage, the document is more historical than anything else. I agree with some of the articles and disagree with others, as do nearly all the Episcopal pastors I know. We probably disagree on which articles to discard, however. And we all probably read all the articles differently than the authors intended they be read. There is some hazy history, but it appears that it took nearly eight years for the Church to agree on the final 39 articles. This isn't that surprising. If you ever study or write theology, you will discover that it is more surprising that they agreed at all.

Many of those in the churches that I grew up in think that the Episcopalians are too liberal. They argue that many Episcopalians deny Jesus is God, that the Scriptures are the Word of God and are perfect and that Jesus is the only way of salvation. To the Church I grew up in all of this is heresy. Also, many argue that the church's refusal to condemn homosexuality and transgenders is an anathema.

I disagree with the Episcopalians teaching on some of these things. You know that I hold, with an open hand (in other words, acknowledging that I might be very wrong) that had people fallen into sin, there would be no homosexuality and no gender dysphoria -- that God's original creation was for eternal monogamy between a man and a woman. 

However, we don't live or love in that perfect world any longer. I know the life of heterosexual monogamy to which I've been called, and given my complete failure in that arena; I am not going to look at anyone else and tell them how God intended for them to live. It is simply not my place. To do so would be the height of hypocrisy. As I read Jeremiah and Joel (two Old Testament prophets) I need to allow people to work out how they walk before their God for themselves. I no longer claim to know how anyone else should behave in any of these matters. 

Denying Jesus as Lord is another matter. I could not be part of a congregation that denied the Trinity. Having said that, how Jesus saves is an open question for me. While I hold with a closed hand, grasping tightly to the fact that the Jesus' death on the cross is the only means of salvation, how the cross saves is beyond me. I was taught the only way that a person cold be saved was by saying a prayer, inviting Jesus into their heart. Not only is that extra-biblical (not found in the Bible), it is plain wrong. 

Though I've never said it to you explicitly, you may have noticed that I don't use the word "Christian" anymore to describe myself. There is nothing wrong with the word. However, I've chosen to refer to people like me who love Jesus as "Christ followers." Because for me, that describes who I am -- In all things, I seek to follow Jesus. A Christian is someone who cognitively believes Christian doctrine. A Christ follower is someone who attempts to obey and follow Jesus. I want to be the latter.

When you are at an Episcopalian Church you will hear more scripture than you do in most "free church" services. We'll talk about the free church later. It is sadly true that many Episcopalian people that I know, don't know their Bibles very well, they hear it in church more regularly than their Baptist brethren. I was raised to believe that the Bible was "inerrant" (or without any errors) when originally written. That last phrase was important because no one has any of the originals. As I look back, I realize that the church of my youth fought tooth and nail for inerrancy to fight for their interpretation rather than for inerrancy. The Bible clearly has errors. That is part of its magnificence. What is more, our understanding of it is flawed and fallible and when we think we have understood it, we most certainly have not.

This is an important piece of my journey and transformation. I need to write an entirely different post on Scripture alone so you can understand my journey on this all important topic.

Suffice it to say; I believe that the Bible is God's unique and divinely inspired word to us and for us. It contains all we need to know for salvation, and it is mediated (or revealed) to us by his Holy Spirit so we can have a relationship with the Triune God. It is worthy of intense study and scrutiny. It will not give life by itself but will be used by God to raise the dead, heal the sick, give hope where there is despair, and faith where there is doubt. There is no book like it, and no other writing compares to it. I think that most Episcopalians would agree with this paragraph and those who don't have a right to be wrong. 

When I go to an Episcopalian Worship service, I trudge a rhythmic path toward Jesus. I am invited into Jesus' presence, and hear his word proclaimed: First an Old Testament reading, then the Psalm, then a New Testament reading, and finally a Gospel reading. I am encouraged in my faith through the homily; am invited to pray for the world, confess my sin, and hear God's forgiveness given. With shame taken from me, I can fully enter into relationship with my neighbors sitting next to me, as we pass the peace one to another; and, finally, I am invited to partake in the body and blood of Jesus in the sacrament of the Eucharist. 

I need to stop here once again. As I grew up, I often heard preachers and pastors add to the Bible by saying, "This is a symbol of my body and blood." They did so because they don't really believe the Bible is inerrant. They believed their interpretation was inerrant. This is important because Jesus said, "Whenever you gather to worship, partake in communion together" (SGT, 1 Cor 11:25); and Jesus didn't say, "this is a symbol..." What he actually said was, "This is my body which is given for you..." and, "this is my blood, which was shed for you..." (SGT, Mt 26, Mk 14, Lk 22, 1 Cor. 11).

And this is the glory of it, so please catch it. Because he forgave me (and he had to forgive a shit ton of sin in me), I get to take communion. And as I take communion, I say, "I will enter into his death and give up my life for the world in the same way he gave up his for me. It may look like it costs me everything, but death always precedes resurrection, and resurrection is better than life!" When we are done with communion, we are sent into the world to be Jesus' body in the world.

These are the reasons that I am grateful to be Episcopalian. I realize I didn't address the things in the church with which I do disagree: The ecclesiology (how the Church is set up), or the right of infant baptism. Those issues, in practice, don't affect me and are easy to overlook. The things that make me Episcopalian far outweigh the things that pull me away.

 

Ruth Grant, 30 September 1929 - 6 October 2007

I wrote this in the fall 2015, soon after All Saints Day. Recently it returned to my mind. Some will wince at what they feel is dirty laundry. My response is that I think that Mum is smiling, that for one of the first times in history, she can be loved, not for what she presented to the world, but because as a God's creation, she is an object of love.

I haven’t written or honored my mother like I have my Father. If you keep reading, you’ll understand why, and today it is time to change that fact.

As the Church remembered All Saints Day, my mind went to her. It is time to tell her story from my perspective. My remembrance is only one such story. It is mine, and mine alone. Thousands tell stories of her faithfulness and devotion. They have a different story to tell. This one is mine, and yet it is also a story of loyalty and devotion, and it is no longer a white-washed story. It is real; at least in my psyche

To hear her tell the story, her father was a school teacher in the Deep South that was forced to leave his profession so that the family could eat when the Great Depression hit. He became a dam builder - moving the family first to Hoover Dam in AZ and then north to Grand Coulee Dam in WA before moving to Vancouver Washington to work in the shipyards during WW2.

She was the youngest of four and felt unwanted. Her life reflected that truth. Having said that, she worshiped her mother, who by all accounts was an incredibly gracious and Godly woman.

Mom confessed that she always lived in the shadow of her drop-dead gorgeous sister who had the world by the tail. She never thought she measured up to a standard even she couldn't identify. As far as she was concerned, she was the unwanted, ugly one. To counter that belief she overachieved. She graduated a year early from high school and then went “back home” to the deep south to study Speech at Bob Jones University, where she excelled.

While at Bob Jones, she realized she was supposed to be a missionary and she got engaged to Stuart Bundy, a man that was also called to the mission field. The trouble was, Stuart was called to South America while Mom knew she was supposed to go to Europe. She remembered steaming out to Great Britain on the Queen Mary. Passing the Statue of Liberty with tears streaming down her face because God’s call was away from all that she knew and loved. Her God never had her best interest at heart. He seemed heartless and demanding.

Once in London, Mom became the first human to produce a weekly Christian radio program broadcast across Europe. Because of a dockworkers strike, the tapes of the American preacher she was supposed to use couldn't get through. The strike afforded her the opportunity to put Englishmen such as Alan Redpath and Martin Lloyd-Jones on the radio for the first time.

At the same time, she met a handsome English gospel singer who was taking the English church scene by storm. She would put him on the radio along with the English preaching sensations. Though they had a hit show, the American’s who were financing the program were not so thrilled. The show was intended to showcase the head of her mission to Europeans, not English interlopers. The mission decided to pull the plug on the show and end all she had created.

About that same time the handsome English singing sensation asked her to be his wife. She initially put him on hold, saying that she was in England for the purpose of producing radio, and she was not sure how her English suitor fit into God’s plan for her. Though completely smitten with him, she didn't think God would give her such a gift.

She could not find any other missions or radio ministries that wanted to do what she felt called to do, so she married the Englishman in the fall of 1952. They soon joined the Eric Hutching’s Hour of Revival Evangelistic Team where Mom took control of the sound and the radio broadcasts while her husband played emcee, led the choir and soloed for the team. They traveled the world, preaching, teaching and loving one another. It was a fairy tale romance, and though they were poor, this was the happiest period of Mom’s life.

In 1963, my brother, Timothy was born. While his birth slowed Mom down, she was still able to run the sound board and produce the radio with an infant in tow, by her side. There are some fantastic photos of her in the sound booth far above the mission's venue. When I was born, that all changed. Two children were too much. Mom went from queen of the studio (where her words were law, and she reigned over the sound teams), sought after as a teacher (indeed she preached better than my Dad), and traveling Europe and Southern Africa, to a stay-at-home mom of a toddler and an infant. She told God and whoever else would listen that she was no good as a mother. She was good at the other things, but not mothering. It seems now like those early days of my brother's, and my lives were the darkest days of her life.

After being a virtual single mother proved to be too much, the family moved to the States so that Mom could be nearer her family and not have to feel so alone. She hoped her depression would lift. The move proved not to be such an easy transition, however. All of a sudden, the family that everyone knew was known by no one. The celebrity was gone. And though Mom had family to help she was still alone with two small boys, feeling all alone, like a failure, unloved, and back in her sister's shadow.

As we grew older Mom found a few ministry opportunities for herself and was the administrative force behind what would become Grant Gospel Communications — my parents non-profit.

Somewhere during this time, she also began to groom me to be a surrogate and started sexually abusing me. It would be wrong to say more than that here, for she was broken and doing the best that she could, and she didn’t mean harm, and she needed to kill her pain — and I paid the price. I do not know what price my brother paid. I know it was steep, though.

As my brother and I got older and left home for college, Mom and Dad began to travel together again. Mom’s second golden age began. She would practice piano for hours so that she could accompany Dad during his concerts. She also began to write and perform again. And when I say, "act," I mean, "act."

She memorized Romans 8, and large chunks of Revelation, along with other sections of Scripture. She presented them as dramatic performances for hundreds, probably thousands of admirers and fans. She brought the Word of God alive for her audiences. She was good. People loved her, and she blessed them.

She also wrote Christmas fiction, designed to help listeners enter into the Christmas and Jesus stories in ways they hadn’t been able to before. She would memorize her narratives and present them as a one-woman show. I can even remember her challenging me to learn Psalm 119 faster than her. She was serious and I knew I couldn’t compete, so I turned her down. I don't know if she did it out not. It wouldn't surprise me, though.

Twice she battled cancer. The last time she was miraculously healed. That is its own story, and is so incredible; it is almost unbelievable. I know that I wouldn’t believe it had I not lived it. I was with Dad in New England when we made the call to Mom to find out what the doctors had said and hearing her, overjoyed report, “The doctor states, ‘There is a slight swelling of the lymph nodes, we cannot rule out the possibility of cancer.'” The tumour, about the size of my fist the doctor discovered only two weeks earlier during exploratory surgery was gone.

For the next 12 years, Mom and Dad rediscovered their love story, They made over 20 trips to India and Europe for ministry and mission. Side by side they labored. Then in 1999 the diagnosis that my Mom feared more than any other was given, “Ruth, you have Alzheimers disease. We can slow it, but that is all."

In 2002 on the heels of my divorce, my Dad asked me to move in with him again to help care for my Mum. He couldn’t do it alone.

Already she had proven that she was not afraid to interrupt my sermons with some embarrassing story from my childhood. Now her story grew darker. She knew that her deepest fear was becoming reality. As her mind left her, she began longing for home and wandering off unsafely, sometimes barely dressed. In 2006, Dad and I realized it wasn’t safe to keep her at home anymore. Of course, she didn’t understand a locked down memory unit. And yet, she would still say, no matter how bad it got, “I know one thing, I am a child of the King.”

Those last years, those last months, everything that gave her self-worth were stripped away from her. She was left with that simple statement, “I don’t know, but I know I am a child of the King.”

Mother’s Day of 2006 was the first day she no longer recognized me. I merely became a sweet man that visited her. Some days I was her brother, sometimes I was simply there. Never again was I her son.

Finally in October 2006 with family around her bed, Mom passed into glory. Finally getting to go home and see her Dad, the king.

I am so grateful for those last years. All her life, Mom worked her butt off to gain acceptance, to get out of the shadows of her sister, to be worthy, to be loved by her Dad. Then, in the end, she discovered that she was.

That is a story that needs to be told. I don’t tell it to besmirch my Mother’s memory but to relate her story in a way that I think she now wants to be told. She was deeply wounded, and she deeply hurt my brother and me, not from spite, but because she didn’t know how not to.

People on four continents know Jesus because of her faithfulness, I know Jesus, in part because of her brokenness. That story has shaped me, for good and for ill. It deserves to be told. My Mom was an imperfect saint, like every saint who lived before her. In the wake of All Saints Day 2015, for the first time, I remember her among the great saints of the church — perfectly imperfect; full of crap and glory; shit and magnificence.

A libertarian perspective

Ren,

 

This is taking the form of an open letter to you because you asked me a question the other week. I realized as I began sifting through my thoughts around the topic that this can’t be answered without a carefully outlined book, which I am unwilling to write. What you get instead is a loose hanging letter that is anecdotal. I am not sure if it answers your question, so much as it lays out how I see the political landscape. It is not tightly written, nor serious in tone. It is merely a letter from one friend to another. Please take it as such. I’m using my blog to make it an open letter for history’s sake. I want my kids to know my heart as it develops. I want them to know why I took the positions I took and did the things I did. That is now the purpose of my blog and you afforded me opportunity to add to the already existing catalog of thoughts. Also, it is not well edited. I am sorry about that. Enjoy my friend, I am so grateful for you.

 

I find myself in an interesting political situation. Let me explain. I am a long time Libertarian. In college, I was profoundly influenced by the writings of Frederick Bastiat, a French political theorist. He related a scenario in which 10 people found themselves in a community. One of the ten had $1000. two had $100 and the remaining seven only had $10 each. Seven of the ten voted to act as a democracy and then voted to distribute all the cash equally among the ten people. The man with $1000 objected. He had earned the money through hard work and he knew that at least two of the men with only $10 didn’t work at all. So the seven men set upon the man and took his money by force and divided it among themselves. Bastiat pointed out that such behavior was thievery.

 

That story still resonates with me but perhaps for different reasons than Bastiat’s. Let me explain what I mean before returning to the story and my conundrum. My political theory has to be tied to my theological theory. A few days ago, I posted a post simply entitled, “I Believe.” As I sifted through what I believed, I realized that central to my understanding of life is the belief that both humanity and individuals are made in the image of God. This one statement is at the vortex of my conundrum. For the image of God is a holy thing both in the individual and humanity. Part of my calling is to help individuals live into their Imago Dei; Calling forth glory from within them so that it can be offered as a gift to the rest of the creation.

 

What makes individuals possess the image of God is up for debate. I am incapable of listing them all here. I will limit this list to some of the teleological aspects of the Imago Dei. Theologians have listed: humanity’s capacity for agape and empathy, people's design for relationships, creativity, and freedom. This does not include the ontological aspects of the image of God in each of us.

 

I posit when we limit any one of these, we limit the Imago Dei in that individual. When we thwart creativity we actually thwart the Kingdom. When we limit or restrict freedom we do the same thing. And when we limit freedom or stifle creativity, we often limit peoples’ ability to love and live in relationship with others. I need to flesh that out using the story above. 

 

When the majority forced the rich man to share his wealth with them, they stole from him the ability to choose love. His act of giving his money to them was neither loving nor caring. It was coerced. What would have happened if they had offered an invitation instead of an ultimatumIn? They acted from a place of fear instead of relying on their Creator for their sustenance and survival, they trusted in their own power, limiting themselves to the world they could see rather than the world they could not.? 

 

Many argue that such a position is purely utopian. It cannot work in a broken world full of selfishness. I am surprised that many of my friends on the left who reject the very notion of original sin, hating “reformed theology” become very “reformed" on this point. They do nit trust people to be good. They do not trust people to choose love. People must be forced to take the actions of love to protect those who have no opportunity, and who could very well die without their aid.

 

Meanwhile, my conservative friends also take positions from a place of fear. They think we need to limit the freedom of people to make supposedly, "moral choices" (noneconomic moral choices.) They do not think we can allow people the freedom to choose drugs and addiction because too many will do so. We do not want to allow abortion because too many people will have them. We can’t allow gay marriage because it will promote a gay lifestyle and elevate homosexuals'  choices to be in a monogamous gay relationship to the same status as their choice to be in a heterosexual relationship (either monogamous or not).  We need to spend trillions on defense, because if we don’t our enemies will choose to destroy us. We can’t allow people to choose to come live in our country whenever they want! THE left doesn’t want to be forgotten here either. We need to outlaw guns because people choose to use them for bad things.

 

In all of these cases, we limit peoples’ freedom to choose the good because we are afraid. We take power over them to force them to behave in a way we think they should behave. Both my conservative and my liberal friends are guilty of taking power over people to shape their behavior. Whenever they do they limit peoples' freedom to live into their Imago Dei and choose love.

 

Love is so big it has two opposites. First is indifference. If I don’t care, I don’t love. Second is fear. When I act from  a "non-immediate" fear I cannot love. Immediate fear is a fear that yells for a person to stop or get run over by a train. It must be separated from the “what if” fear that all people tend to stew in. Both of these opposites come into play in this discussion.

 

Let’s talk about indifference. When anything is someone else’s responsibility people tend to grow indifferent about it. They no longer need to pay attention to it for it is assumed it has been addressed. I know that when I pass the person on the street holding a sign asking for help I have two responses. The first is skepticism, the second is to hand them a list of service agencies that will provide them the care they need. I have become indifferent because the job to take care of these sometimes unfortunate individuals is the collective’s responsibility. I’ve abdicated my personal responsibility to another. I’ve ceased loving. While it is my responsibility to love no matter what, our welfare state has wrongly created in me a sense that poverty and caring for those who have not, is not my problem. I fear that the move to create more agencies to care for unfortunates is simply an attempt to relinquish responsibility that we no longer want because we are tired of the hard work of loving.

 

Now let’s talk about fear. To the extent that we are scared that something won’t be accomplished unless we usurp power, we act from a place of idolatry, Usurping God’s role in ongoing creation. We don’t trust him to make things happen the way we want or expect and so we take power over. In the above example we steal, playing Robin Hood to make sure that the neediest in society have enough. Some might say that it is motivated from love, but I suggest it is because we really want to abdicate our responsibilities. 

 

How can we in good conscious ask others to give up their coats when we have not first chosen to give up our own? How can we ask another to give up their property when we have not offered our own? 

 

That is only one side of this argument. Libertarians (small “l” rather than large “L”) hold to the autonomy of the individual. They are wrong. Genesis 1.26-27 does not say that individuals are made in the image of God. It says that humanity is made int he image of God. No individual is autonomous. Science has disproven the myth of autonomy. And my experience has disproven the myth of autonomy. The choices you make have direct effects upon my life. If you own property up stream from me and choose to dam a stream that I rely upon, your actions steal my opportunity to live and thrive. A true libertarian would argue that it is tough on me, the one that “owns” the spring or the glacier from which the stream is born defect owns all the water in the stream. Rarely do you find such a pigheaded libertarian, however. Even libertarians admit limits to their theory. 

 

It is far easier to see autonomy on a continuum. The question becomes where do you end up landing on the continuum? That is a question that I have been wrestling with for the past few weeks. I think I want to suggest (without knowing how it works itself out fully) that instead of autonomy existing on a  two-dimensional continuum it must be seen at least three-dimensionally. For no one exists autonomously from God. There is no real autonomy in the world. We are all dependent upon our Creator for our very existence. He is the one that holds evil at bay. He is the one that unleashes and allows love to flow. He is the one that invites us to live in a Kingdom of his making rather than our own.

 

In Genesis 4 after Cain kills his brother, God curses him and sends him out to wander and never settle. Cain then goes out and starts a city. This is how we as humans typically respond to God. It is as if we give him the finger. I know that sometimes I have given him the finger. This is a picture of our attempt at autonomy. Autonomy and freedom are not equal; nor are they synonymous. The minute we claim freedom to hoard or exert power over another, we cease being free. I realize that this is more of a theological premise than a political one, and yet it has to come into play here.

 

When I worked at the University of Michigan I got to spend time hanging out with George Mavrodes. He told me the story of the sociologist friend of his that went to live with the Amish during the presidential campaign of 1951 when Adlai Stevenson ran against Dwight Eisenhower. The whole Amish community, though they would never vote, supported Eisenhower. This confounded the sociologist. He asked them about it and he was told that Stevenson was divorced and they would never trust a man of that questionable character in the White House and they wanted a strong General to run the country so that they could live in peace. This only served to confuse him more. And so he asked more questions. 

 

The Amish related that people are called to different things and that they were called to be a people of peace, much as a cobbler is called to be a cobbler or a blacksmith to be a blacksmith, but then they acknowledged that such a calling was not universal. All are not called to pacifism. God calls others to be carriers so that they could live in peace.

 

This enters into this conversation to say that though love demands I not take power over another, that does not mean that it is true for everyone. It is simply true for me. I am called to hold up a banner of invitation for people to give up their need to take power over in the name of love and invite others to join me. If I required it, I would violate my own calling.

Another Letter to My Children: On Advent, Joseph and Holding Love More Tightly than Truth

I failed to teach you about Advent. That is on me, and I cannot make up for it in a letter or a series of letters. However, as Paula and I  were talking and praying together today some things came up for me that are important for me to share with you as your Dad, so you can understand a little of what I hold to be dear; and see the world through the lens I see the world.

Advent is the period of days that lead up to Christmas itself. The days mark the beginning of the Church calendar. This is actually our New Year. This year the celebration lasts 32 days. Other years it may be slightly more or slightly less. This month long period is a period the Church sets aside to remember the events that led up to Jesus’ arrival on the planet as a Baby. And while we look back, we also look forward to a time when He will come again and bring World Peace, set right the wrongs and injustices in the world, destroy hate and shame, bring laughter, joy, and true connection with one another and with Him. It is a time where all we desire in relationship is fulfilled and all the sucky parts are taken away. This is my hope. It is how I get up in the morning and is a primary lens through which I view life.

This morning as we were considering the days we are in, I said to Paula, “Everyone talks about the shame that Mary carried while she was pregnant with Jesus; but can you imagine the shame that Joseph must have carried with him?”

She responded, “Yes, that is right, Joseph had to completely change his theology, and his morality to stay with pregnant Mary.” She caught me off guard with her wisdom.

Imagine yourself in Joseph’s shoes. You are a good are reverent Jew, with Jewish morality, and your fiancé comes to tell you that she is pregnant, and you know you had nothing to do with it. How do you feel? I’d be angry. I’d want revenge. There would be moments where I’d want to have her stoned as an adulteress. I’d feel betrayed and broken hearted.

But then God came to Joseph and let him know that Mary had not cheated on him after all. Now Joseph probably has issues with God. I know I would have. God robbed him of something that he thought was his and his alone. Mary would have a child without his seed impregnating her. His first child would not be his! On top of that, the entire town would know that her first born wasn’t his! And they’d never believe the story.

Joseph had to hold one truth  that he learned from childhood to be true while trusting God’s word that the immorality he was now seeing was somehow beautiful and even blessed. And Joseph did exactly that. He protected his fiancé. He lived with the shame, and the questions that must have come at him from family and friends. His theology was turned on its head, and he was OK with that.

In a similar way, we’ve been focusing this year on making space for whatever Christ brings to us in the coming year. Our life feels pregnant and incredibly full. We are becoming aware that we need to prepare ourselves for what God has for us, and that means we must be expectant and yet not demanding. We will continue to hold onto the emptiness in order that it may be filled. I don’t like emptiness very much. I don’t think you do either. And Advent asks us to live in it for a period of time waiting for Christ to come and fill the emptiness with his fullness.

A funny thing happened as we were talking. I flashed to my Sexual Disorders class. Dan (who joyfully proclaims it is his job to offend everyone – just like your old man) brought in an Episcopalian Priest named Eric who identifies as gay in order to have a conversation with him, so that the class could hear both sides of the debate that is currently raging in society and the church. Then he let Eric have the pulpit for a good chunk of two classes.

I heard things from Eric I needed to hear. I heard Scripture taught in ways I needed to hear them taught. Eric approached Scripture reverently, coming under his authority. Though I disagreed with his conclusions, he opened my eyes to much. Though the church tradition that gave me birth and raised me in faith, would deny him a place at the table of our Lord, I’d take communion with him should I be given the chance; and I’d happily and joyfully work with him, side by side for the sake of the Kingdom. I will defend him should I need to, for he is my brother.

You must be wondering what this has to do with Advent. Because of Advent, like Joseph, I need to hold two things: Love and my understanding of Truth. I choose to hold love tightly and my sense of truth (in this case, moral truth) loosely. How can I – a moral screw up – point at anyone else’s morality and say that they can’t welcome Jesus as I do? I can’t. So, I hold to morality for me, letting go of my need to hold morality for others. For me, homosexuality is wrong. And I choose to love those who come to different conclusions about sexuality own lives. My gay friends didn’t choose homosexuality any more than I chose heterosexuality. How they live with their sexuality is between them and their Creator, just as the way I choose to live out my sexuality is between me and my Creator.

And because of Jesus I stand with my gay friends who love Jesus, hand in hand echoing the call of John on the final page of the Holy Scriptures, “Come quickly Lord Jesus, for we need you.” That, I think, is one way to understand advent through Joseph’s eyes in the 21^st century America. It is my way. I hope someday, if not already it will be yours too. That hope is not a demand. You will learn to see the world through your own eyes. I simply pray that they will be the eyes of love.

“Covenant,” in the words of Indigo Montoya, “I do not think that word means what you think that word means.”

 

It is such a badly misused and misunderstood word. I’ve watched it be used to ostracize and abuse people. This is not what God intended

Dan Allender threw out an idea in his Marriage and Family Class offered at the Seattle School of Theology and Psychology. He talked about covenantal marriage, and headship hitting upon something most people miss. He challenged us to take fifteen minutes to look up Sumerian covenants. So I did.

Covenants were created by conquering kings as tools to help them rule. The conquering kings would severe animals in half and make the conquered king walk between them. Then the conquering king would say to the conquered king something along the lines of, “If your people cause me trouble you will be the first to be severed as these animals have been severed.” It was a sign of the conquered kings allegiance, and of his promise to the conquering king to be loyal.

God turned that idea on its head for he says to his creation, if you mess up, I will be the first to die. And then he followed through on his promise. He died for us. The old covenant is completely rebuilt around a new idea of the powerful (filled with the Spirit of the Living God, and given previously unknown freedom) giving up their freedom and, indeed, their lives for the powerless and the oppressed, even as Jesus did.

What it means for us as the church is that we too are called to be the first to die for the one that violates the covenant and sins. Doesn’t the apostle say, “Love covers a multitude of sins?” And aren’t we commanded by Paul to “carry one another’s burdens” without respect for whether they have let us down or not? We’ve missed it. We live under the old Sumerian system. If the parishioner (or member) screws up, we say, “They violated the covenant. Kick them out.” And when we do, we break the heart of the one who died for us, because we missed the point of his being the first to die.

According to Allender, and I think I agree, "headship means being willing to be the first to die." So,what would it look like for the church to walk as Jesus did, being willing to be the first to die? To come down to eat at the pig trough, to live with people and meet people in the place of brokenness and despair? What would it look like for us, the Church to carry the cost of the broken covenant for the covenant breaker, so they don’t have to? I’d like to find out.

A Special Letter to TL & Me

Thomas,

Sometime, when you were about four, a mentor of mine told me to watch how I parented you because undoubtedly what I was saying to you was what God wanted to say to me... Since then I try to do exactly that.

You know -- well maybe you don't --  that the thing that breaks my heart more than anything on this planet is the judgment you reserve for your sister. It appears to me that far as you are concerned, there isn't much she can do right. This judgment of yours seems to be a function of a couple of things: 1. You are concerned that her actions will make you look bad. 2. You can't give up your need to be God.

Lets break those down. Again, I do this because I know what I write, though written to you regarding your sister, is also God speaking to me about stuff going on in my life. So below is a letter to us.

1. We need to overcome the idea that someone makes you look good or bad. Remember my chair? One of the legs is: What other people think about me is none of my business. I'll start there. The need to be liked will kill us. We become consumed with what others think about us and are unable to love them because of fear that they may not like us. John in his Epistle addresses this. He writes, "Perfect love casts out fear." True love is not concerned with self at all. It doesn't give a damn what other people think about It

Can you imagine Jesus, being concerned with what people thought about him? Do you think he'd of allowed himself to be stripped naked and hung on a cross? Do you think he'd of allowed all the lies to be told about him? Do you think he'd of allowed the justive system to be twisted until it was no longer recognizeable if he'd cared what others thought of him? Do you think he'd of called the disciples he did? Would He of hung out with the people he chose to spend his time?

No, the thing about Jesus, was he didn't care what others thought about him so he was free to truly love everyone. On top of that, His embodiment of Love was so attractive people couldn't stay away from Him. The same is true for us. The more we don't care what others think. Please note I am not saying that the, "'Fuck it!' scream of resignation," is the same as not caring what people think about us. I am not saying we are not to care about people. I am saying that what others think is none of our business.

When you are in goal this year. If you are worried about screwing up, you will. If you are concentrating on the positive, "Taking control of your box, communicating to your defenders, talking trash to the strikers, etc..." you will rule. You may make mistakes but you won't be controled by your fear.

That is true in life too. We are called to little in this life. We are called to love no matter what. A subset of that is that we are called to love even those we are scared make us look bad.

A long time ago in a State far far away, when I was not fat, had hair, and was dating a stunning beauty at Pensacola Christian College, we chose to hang out with one of the school's outcasts. Monica and I intentionally took him under our wing. He was a few cards short of a full deck, socially awkward, rejected by the rank and file,and  included by us. We pulled him up. He didn't drag us down. We were seen as one of the "power couples on campus" known by all,  and under close scrutiny. Because of that truth we didn't care what anyone thought about us. Our position was secure and we were freed to love, even the unloveable and unliekeable. It was a very cool thing.

You have a friend you do that with now. He is brilliant and socially awkward. He is a poor athlete, and he cries a lot over strange shit, and you like him a lot. Do others' opinion of him affect how you love him? Not as much as they affect how you love your sister. Your self-worth is not determined by the social position, beauty, intellect, or charisma of those you hang out with. It is, however determined in part, by the quality of your love for all those God places in your world.

When we look for the things people do to screw up, we will find them. When we look for their beauty, we will find it too.

I can almost hear you murmuring now, "That is great Dad, and I get it, but you said I wanted to be God?" Or you completely forgot about the second point (which is more likely), but I didn't. So let me clarify for you...

2. Whenever we judge another person, we are attempting a coup de etat against God. Whether is is us judging the Flounders'or Cowboys fan, the Subaru driver, or the Frenchman, we are, in essence taking on the role of God to attach value or devalue someone based upon our own values and judgments. Whenever we think anyone is "less than" or "greater than" we are assuming God's role in the universe and it is a dangerous position to take. Why do you think the New Testament is so clear, "Don't judge, unless you want to be judged." We cannot value or devalue anyone God has created. If you only remember one thing from me, please let it be this. The illegal alien is no less valuable than the white anglo saxon. The angry Muslim growing up on a rock with nothing at all has no less value than the afluent Christian university student majoring in bio-physics.

This one, simple truth is the reason I am a pacifist, am for immigration reform, and stand for Libertarian economic principles. People -- each one -- and all of us together are a creation of God; made in His image, for His glory and greater purpose. We need to love each one as if this is true. That is the radical call of the Kingdom of God. That is what I want to be remembered for living for.

I pray for you and Maggie that you will join me in this Kingdom life. There is no life more agonizing. There is no other life worth living.

Letter to my children: The Rumour is Completely False

Dear Maggie & Thomas,

Sadly it surprises me that I need to write this at all, but this week, a rumour I’d heard was circulating was voiced to me, and it needs to be addressed. People have created a lie that I stole from Papa. They believe it to be true. At one point someone came up to me in a store asking if it was true
that I had kicked Dad out of his own house!

When I betrayed your Mom, I let a lot of people down. People who had been in my corner, felt betrayed and lied to (whether they had been or not). One pastor, in particular, seemed to take it hard and started lashing back with a vengeance. At one point he even organized an exorcism for my
brother’s house after I had stayed there.

Do you remember when we completely remodeled the 69^th street house? At the same time that happened the market fell apart, our contractor didn’t watch things carefully and we didn’t watch him carefully enough either. That house which in 2008 would have been valued at 1.2 million
dollars was worth less than it would have been worth pre-remodel (about $525,000).

The plan had been for Michelle and I to pay the loan off, buy out Uncle Timothy and live in the equity. In essence, the loan to remodel the house was going to be ours, and we’d end up with a great house to raise our family. It didn’t happen, with the cost overruns, etc… things fell apart.
Obviously, it was still worth it. Papa got to die in his house as he wanted. The estate that was supposed to be passed on though was gone tied up because of the market crash and the construction over runs.

I tell you this because people decided that Michelle and I were to blame for it all. They began to say crazy things like we forced Dad to move out, and that we had stolen from him. All of this was done under the watchful eye of this vengeful pastor. All of this was done without ever talking to me. At one point, Uncle Timothy called the agency that investigates elder abuse. They interviewed both Papa and me, and of course there was no crime.

I learned a lot from my experiences. I need to write things down as they happen as a record of what is happening. If you can do it, keep a journal of your business dealings, and conversations. The habit, if learned will save you a lot of grief. Secondly, I sadly realized that people, particularly people in the church are much better at talking about me than to me. (Many others would say the same thing.) If you suspect something is amiss, talk to the person rather than talking about the person, ok? Please don’t perpetuate the problem. Thirdly, I trust people too much. I want to believe they are good. Many are. And even the good ones make mistakes. When it comes to finances we need to watch carefully.

If I could go back and do it all again, there are many things I’d do differently, trying to care for Dad at the end of his life. I made mistakes along the way, but to say I stole from him, that is quite simply a bald-faced lie.

You guys know that I’ve done a lot wrong in my life. This isn’t one of them. When Jesus was accused before the Pharisees and Pilot he simply remained silent. Maybe I should do the same. Jesus didn’t have kids, and his earthly ministry was drawing to a close. This lie needs to be called into question.

The pastor that created and cultivated the garden in which the lie grew will answer for his role in the story. It is not my place to want or seek revenge against him. I won’t name him here. He answers to God, not me. I am working on the forgiveness piece with him and it is tough.

At some point I am going to have to make amends to him for my etrayal of him after he backed me for all those years. The very thought of ffering him and amends sounds like it is going to suck. But I know if I want o be free, I need to make amends for my wrongs, and not worry about what the erson I have wronged does with their sins.

When my life ends, I get to be remembered as a betrayer, of your mother, the church, my supporters, my students and my congregants. I also get to be remembered as one who was betrayed by my second wife, my brother, my pastor, many in the church, and some of my friends. When those things are uxtaposed they mean that I get to be remembered for being human. I am glad that I learned before you were each old enough to remember, how to be an honest human, a grateful human, a Spirit-helped human, and a loved human. That is what makes it all worth it.