Promises

Letters to My Adult Children - Evil & Politics - Winter 2020

When one feels the need to control another adult, to take power over another adult, to get them to behave the way you think they ought to behave, you are engaging in evil. The attempt to gain control and power is the first sin. It is how Adam and Eve were tempted in the Garden of Eden (Genesis 3). It is how Jesus was tempted after his baptism (Matthew 4). It is something that God does not do with us. He seemingly always allows us to choose evil. He gives us the freedom to make evil choices. It is one of the biggest complaints people have with God. "Why does God allow evil?" The atheist argues. Surely a good God would not allow all the atrocities that occur in the world. Yet, God does. He doesn't choose to take power over people, but rather continually invites them to another way of life -- The way of love. Usurping, or attempting to usurp power that God doesn't take is surely the worst kind of Evil.

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Recently, a good friend, who I respect and admire posted an admiration piece on AOC. I trolled him. Though I try not to, some friends simply beg to be trolled. Gotta figure out what that is all about. But, that is another post. On his post, referring to AOC, I wrote, "She is her own kind of evil." He asked me to articulate what about her makes me say that. Another friend, who I also respect, posted her record that isn't so different from many of the new wave of socialists flooding the House, as the electorate reacts to the evil in the White House. 

My friend accused me of having "racially informed libertarian leanings." I cracked up at that, partly because my political leanings find their genesis in from my understanding of Scripture which he is partially responsible for -- specifically, the theological position that individuals, as well as people, are made in the image of God (the Imago Dei). If that is true than individuals are made to be free. I put that together with 18th-century French political theory developed by Frederick Bastiat, my time in 12-step rooms and studying The Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous, and finally my work in the domestic Violence world where I learned to define abuse as, "any time I attempt to tear at the humanity of another." Combining those streams of thought and experience, I end up holding that DJT and AOC are both tools of evil --  if not evil itself. This does not mean that they are exempt for being used by God -- for God uses all things. He used the Pharisees and Herod and Pilot and the Centurians who crucified Jesus. God transforms evil. But that does not excuse it.

So with that prolegomena, let's talk about why I think both our current president, DJT; and Congresswoman, AOC are evil...

They are evil because they are trying to take control and power over others - not to hold evil back, but to promote their own agendas.

Let's look briefly at this story from the gospels. James and John came to Jesus and they said, "Will you grant us a request?" Jesus responded, "I don't know what it is, but, maybe?" They then said, "When you enter your Kingdom, we want to sit next to you - one on the right, and one on the left." Jesus responded, "That isn't mine to give, but watch yourselves. Don't look at authority the way the world does. That isn't the way of the Kingdom. Instead, learn to be servants, for the first will be last and the last will be first." 

Jesus repeatedly turned the world as the disciples understood it on its head. True power was found in giving up power. True life is found by sacrificing one's own life. Love, modeled in the Trinitarian relationship, was the template for life in the Kingdom. This relational life does not grab after power and control -- that is the world's way. To be made in the Image of God is to be made free to chose either good or evil. God purposely chose never to try to force us to the good, though God continually did warn us against the evil. That evil, revealed in story after story in the Jewish and Christian Scriptures, seems to happen most often when one person tries to take power over another. The quest and thirst for power are the taproots of the story of the Fall in Genesis 3 and the temptation of Jesus in Matthew 4. It is nearly always one of the ways people are tempted toward evil. This, in and of itself, by itself is more than enough to say that DJT and AOC are both evil, for both want to control others, wanting to and taking power over them.

As far as I know, Frederick Bastiat, who wrote a small, wonderful booklet entitled, The Law, was not a Christ-follower of any kind. He was a political theorist who argued that the collective does not have rights that individuals don't have. He gave the example of ten friends gathering together and nine of them voting to take the tenth friend's money and divide it equally between them. Such action would is immoral. I think he is right. While his argument has limitations - everyone believes the collective has some rights that individuals don't have. For instance, the collective can imprison people for wrongdoing and hurting others. The collective does what it can to protect its citizens. The real issue here becomes, where is it right for the collective to draw this line in repurposing wealth and property and still be moral? Many of these questions are far more easily answered on the community level rather than the national level.

If someone attacks a village, the village bands together to protect itself. However, if a rich person wants to take more land from someone else to become richer, she may well use her power to conscript poorer people to fight for her to take what is not hers. This is the beginning of nationalism and the genesis of America. Here it is easy to see the evil that arises from a quest for power. Part of Bastiat's answer to this question of where the line of individual versus collective rights is drawn was to argue that collectives existed to protect the individual. Governments exist to hold evil back. They do not exist to promote the good. This is where disagreements take place among thoughtful people. I hold that disease and death are non-human forms of evil and therefore the collective needs to form a collective to fight against them. To some degree, I believe that ignorance is also a form of evil and so the collective is wise to work together to combat it through education. In this realm, I struggle because historically, we fall into the trap of teaching people what to think rather than how to think. Education has limits. We have made it into a tool of the corporatists and the oligarchs. So, while I agree that education is an antidote to the evil of ignorance, centralizing control of it is its own form of evil.

Bastiat's economy can be seen in the realities of the microcosm of a household. It is far too easy to let others take the responsibility to love. I don't say this proudly, but when Paula is traveling I simply do all the things that need to be done around the house. When she is home, many times, I wait for her to see what she does to see what I need to do. This approach to life is not loving Paula, it is me giving up my responsibilities because it is easier. People often don't do things because they don't have to do those things. Someone else will do them. So, if I can get others to pay more, I can pay less. This is immoral. This is a form of evil. I want to make sure people are cared for at the lowest possible cost to myself. Therefore, I will spend other's resources to alleviate my need to care for the marginalized and the poor. Practically, socialism takes real pain and makes it someone else's problem. I don't have to worry about it anymore. The government will take care of it. That is surely not what is intended. But it is what results from the practice. We tend to not do what others are doing. Parents don't spend the time educating their kids because schools do it. I don't give to the homeless because we pay taxes to address it and then bitch and moan when City Hall can't come up with viable solutions to the problem. We don't worry about unwanted children because we kill them before they are born. We figure out a way to pay as little as we can, knowing that someone else will pick up the slack.

Recovery also shaped why I see both AOC and DJT as evil. I don't think I've ever explained how The Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous works. We are now into the Fourth Edition. In every Edition the first 164 pages are identical. So, for instance when people talk about, "the promises," everyone knows to turn to page 83 to find them. Those first 164 pages never change. The majority of the book, however, is the stories of recovery which make up the last 2/3 of the book. One of those stories, found in both the Third Edition around page 473 and in the Fourth Edition, around page 416, is entitled, "Acceptance is the key." It is a doctor's story of recovery from alcoholism. My therapist at Keystone asked me to read three pages from that story every day for three weeks of my five-week stay in rehab. The doctor points out that he was an expert in finding the problems in everyone and everything else in the world, but it took realizing that his problem lay inside of himself, for him to stop drinking. His story was my story. I had to stop pointing my finger at "the evil out there," and discover that the problem wasn't out there. It was in my inner sanctum and inner being. Once I realized this. Once I accepted my own shame, I opened the door to healing and Love. 

I saw this same issue as I worked with domestic violence perpetrators. The men with whom I worked saw themselves as victims. They gave their power away. They felt emasculated and so they grasped for power that was not theirs to grasp, They tried to control their girlfriends and wives, abusing them along the way. My refrain to them was heard almost every week, "abuse occurs whenever you attempt to tear at the humanity of another." We typically abuse people in one of the following ways: physically, verbally, sexually, emotionally/mentally, financially, through control or damage of properties, harm to pets, and spiritual abuse. 

DJT is doing this by stealing property to build a wall. AOC is doing this by attempting to steal wealth to pay to accomplish what she sees as moral, saying that those who have billions could not have come by those dollars honestly. She may be right about that, but we don't right wrongs by repeating them. In many ways, AOC's approach is not so different from Jerry Falwell's attempt to control morality from the conservative position. When we attempt to control morality, rather than to invite people to it, we attempt to do something God never did, because it would violate His very nature. And things that violate the nature of God are evil

Both DJT and AOC believe that the problems in the world are, "out there," problems. Both want to take control of other peoples' lives, to fix the problems. And let me remind you that if we can only be OK if others change, we are in deep shit. That belief creates a sense of powerlessness which in turn swings to abuse. People don't like feeling powerless so they grasp power. That is a mistake. Grasping power is at the root of Evil.

Both the unfettered nationalistic capitalism of DJT, and the democratic socialistic vision of AOC are born in the furnace of an attempt to take control and power over others. Both have succumbed to the same temptation that Jesus overcame, Both see the problem as being, "out there." They are both wrong. They have both bought into the economy of the Evil One rather than the Kingdom of God. This shadow kingdom must be labeled correctly or we shall wrongly endeavor to live as its citizens rather than claiming our birthright in the Kingdom of Light and Love.

 

Letters to my Adult Children - On Emotions & Anger - Fall 2019

In one of the last DV classes I taught, I took a minute to talk to think. (Whenever I talk to think, I get words out of my brain so that I can see them more clearly and ponder them from different angles to discover if the words are true or not.)

With many of the men I work(ed) with, I have to teach them about emotions. To do so, I created a worksheet to hand out that reads something like this:

When we say we feel bad we might be saying…

• I feel hurt — Something that makes me who I am has been attacked, broken, or damaged
• I feel sad — I’ve lost something
• I feel lonely — I am disconnected from others
• I feel guilty — I did something bad
• I feel despair — I am without hope things are (I am) never gonna change
• I feel scared — things are going to go badly
• I feel disgusted — I experienced something that I found to be inhuman or gross and had a visceral or somatic reaction to it.

Shame is its own category because it is a combination of fear and shame; but, it is fear and shame about myself.

• It is fear that either, I am too much, or I am not enough
• It is despair that I will never be enough or always be too much
• It is fear that if you see me for who I am you will not understand, accept or delight in me
• It is despair that this won’t ever change

My favorite definition, though not clinical, is simply, the inability to meet the gaze of another. You can’t look them in the eye. You can’t let them see your soul.

Surprise is its own category as well because when we say that we are “Surprised,” we may be expressing a negative or a positive feeling.

Surprise happens when someone or something has caught us off guard and we weren’t prepared to experience it.

Like Surprise, “Anger” is not always a “bad” emotion. Sometimes it feels good to feel Anger.

Anger is one of those bad feelings combined with a sense of injustice or blame — "Someone or something else is responsible for my bad feeling and I am powerless to do anything about it."

We feel anger toward others, ourselves, institutions, cultures, people groups, and objects

Many times, the anger we feel at others is really anger we feel toward ourselves that we “transfer” to them or “project’ onto them to avoid blaming ourselves. Other times, we “transfer” or “introject” anger that we feel toward others onto or into ourselves to unconsciously gain more of a sense of control. Typically, this happens when fear is the “bad” emotion we are “unjustly” feeling.

Sometimes, anger is justified, righteous and empowering. When this is the case, we rightly condemn the wrong action or the evil without judging the person who chose it. This is a very difficult discipline.

As I thought about this, I thought about my Mum and the fact that she helped a ton of people and was someone that my brother says, “is the most evil person he has ever met.” Since she sexually abused me, it is hard to deny her this title, but something in me needs to if I am to stay sane.

Dwight Friesen was my advisor at The Seattle School. His office was filled with “&’s.” Over my three years inhabiting that holy space, I learned the power of holding the “and.” Mum was both completely evil and a saint. I had to learn to hold both truths about her. The question was could I hate her evil — her actions that broke me and my brother (including but not limited to her sexual abuse of me) — with the fury of all that is holy; and still hold her as my mother who was herself broken and worthy of love?

So, "holy anger," is anger that is directed at the evil that is done, and not at the persons who do it. It separates the evil act from the person who acts. This is so hard to do! It is far easier to hate the person who does the act than to focus our hatred on the action and the evil that leads the person to take the action.

Anger directed at evil changes the world. It led William Wilberforce to dismantle slavery throughout the English Empire in the 19th Century 40 years before the American Civil War. It led amazing women to lead the Women’s suffrage movement in this country. It led Martin Luther King Jr to lead the Civil Rights movement, and Gandhi to begin dismantling the caste system in India. The hatred of evil is an amazing motivator for change in our world.

This is true in part because Holy wrath is always organically connected to love. We “hate” that which destroys personhood and mars the image of God in people. But can you see how close that is to hating people for doing evil? It is a fine line and it takes a lot of hard emotional work to hold it. But, it is worth it because malingering anger at others eats away at the foundation of our souls and though it is rooted in the past, haunts us in our present lives and relationships.

So How Do We Get There???

There are 3 prerequisites for holy, world-altering anger:

1. Grief
2. Forgiveness
3. Proper Boundaries

Grief is mourning what is lost. Someone rightly said it is the removal of the opportunity for us to love. We grieve when we have lost something or someone that/who gave us hope for a better tomorrow, for connection, for understanding, delight, or beauty.

Grief

Many people have addressed the stages of grief: denial and isolation, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and Acceptance. Others have outlined how we don’t simply step through each step in an orderly fashion, we bounce from stage to stage, and then back again.

What hasn’t been addressed is the fact that for many of us, get stuck in the anger in an attempt to make an end-run around the grief and not fully experience it. We don’t want to feel the loss and the hurt, the loneliness, and the sorrow, the fear or the anguish that accompany grief. Instead, we stay angry so we don’t have to feel the sorrow. Anger becomes our defense against the grieving process. When it functions this way, we don’t cycle away from it. We get stuck in it.

Forgiveness

Forgiveness is making a choice to give up judging the person and/or the need for revenge against them. It is not giving up the right to judge their action, nor is it necessary to enter into or hold a relationship with someone you have forgiven. Forgiveness does not mandate relationship. It only mandates judging or holding resentment against another. A lack of forgiveness is a sign that we view a person to be little more than their actions, choices, or emotions. And, none of us are merely our actions, choices, or emotions. We are much more than merely the things we do, feel, or choose. 

Boundaries

For the past two-plus years a national debate has raged over the nature of our nation’s southern border. The debate has been over the nature of the boundary that we have with Mexico. On one extreme, some argue that there should be no border and no boundaries. And, on the other, we need to build a wall, and perhaps a moat to stop anyone we don’t let anyone in that we don’t want in. Most of the country falls somewhere between these two extremes.

That picture provides a handy metaphor about personal boundaries. Personal boundaries exist to protect us from others and others from us while allowing for relationship and connection with others.

Like in the national debate, people with poor boundaries fall into two extremes: People who don’t really have a sense of who they are except through the eyes of others - who can only feel good about themselves if those around them feel good about them (these are similar to the people who want no border); and, people who hold a position of not caring or needing anyone else and being complete loners, refusing to let anyone know what is happening inside of them and not really caring what is going on inside of others (these are the people that build a wall and dig a moat around themselves to protect themselves from getting hurt.

Having good personal boundaries means that we are both differentiated - knowing who we are and what makes us us; as well as being attached - knowing who we are through our relationships with others, creation, and the Creator. When I talk to clients who don’t believe in God, instead of using the term, “Creator,” I refer to “the transcendent realities of our world” - things that go beyond reason and rationality such as love, wonder, and awe. I guess what I mean by that, is that when I go to Ecola State Park and look over the knoll where I poured out Mum and Dad’s ashes to the Pacific Ocean with seems to go on for an eternity and pounds into the rocks below, I learn about myself in relationship to my world. When I crested Piegan Pass in Glacier National Park, I literally fell down to worship, not because I was tired (though I was) but because I was full of awe and wonder at the creation that opened up before me. At that moment, I not only saw the majesty of the Northern Montana Rockies, the peace of the hollers below, and the beauty of the glacial lakes hidden in them, but I got to see myself in light of all those things. It gave me perspective about myself and my limits. Perhaps the best illustration of this is found in a little part of the 1991 movie, The Grand Canyon. When Simon (Danny Glover) sits on the curb talking to Mac (Kevin Kline).

Simon is really talking about boundaries without knowing it. It is difficult to see where we start and stop. We need to see this reality if we are going to deal with our own unhealthy anger. If we are going to hold to boundaries that promote life and health.

It sounds a lot easier than it is because in close relationships our boundaries overlap. the choices you make affect me, and the choices I make affect you. We lust for freedom that infringes on the boundaries of another far too deeply. If I own property and dam a creek to create a reservoir for myself and for irrigation, it means that the people who live downstream are robbed of water that they need. If I build a four-story house, it might block the sunlight from yours. Actions have consequences and so the freedom we long for can often limit the freedom of another.

We feel anger when we see freedom impinged upon by another. This balancing act is at the heart of nearly all the social debates and dialogue in this nation. As I work with clients who complain about dysregulated emotions (their emotions are too big for them to handle and it causes problems), to work effectively I need to work along two fronts: 1) giving them tools to help them regulate their emotions in healthy rather than unhealthy ways, and 2) helping get at the issues that cause the dysregulation in the first place. As you can see above, it is because they have faulty boundaries. So the work becomes exploring the unconscious reasons and motivations they hold to those boundaries.

For you guys to thrive this will be your work as well. For anger not to rule you. For you to be able to hold to the righteous anger at the evil people do while not feeling anger toward the people who do them is perhaps the single-most Christ-like behavior we can practice. Living this way is why I say I am a Christ-follower. It is perhaps the single hardest thing we Christ-followers are called to do. It is also how we get to experience eternal life in this life. It is a life full of joy and sorrow. And it always promises adventure for us as we follow in his steps, leaving drops of grace in every step we take.

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 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.

 

For those who know better, these days need you to be better

In my second year of grad school, our Therapy professor introduced my cohort to the work of Margaret Crastnopol who studied and wrote about psychic micro-trauma. She spent two hours with us presenting a paper and then took questions about her theoretical construct and how we could better work with those with our clients who were cracked or broken because of micro-trauma in their life.

Her work naturally follows in the wake of a similar book on micro-aggressions, by Derald Wing Sue who wrote, Microaggressions in Everyday Life. While micro-traumas are not necessarily the result of micro-aggressions, they are connected. Micro-traumas are the bi-product of recurring small traumas. One helpful metaphor is Chinese water torture. For micro-trauma functions in a similar vein. It is the result of repeated, ongoing small traumas; indifference; low-level emotional, spiritual or verbal abuse; prolonged emotional abandonment; or unintentional, recurring micro-aggressions. Dictionary.com defines Micro-aggressions as,"A subtle but offensive comment or action directed at minority or other non-dominant group that is often unintentional or unconsciously reinforces a stereotype and/or,the act of discriminating against the non-dominant group by means of such comments or actions." 

I fear that many of us are suffering micro-traumas as a result of this completely inane election cycle. And I believe that social media is only compounding the problem. It has become a hotbed of micro-aggression. People's feeds resemble their personal culture and ideologies. Anything outside of their worldview is unwelcome. Using this standard, when people post hateful things, those posts reach the level of being micro-aggressions.

It is people on the political right who distrust academia who seem to struggle with the construct of micro-aggression and micro-trauma the most. Surprisingly, though, micro-aggressions are not limited to the conservative right. We see them within many of the reactive movements that stand against the abusive, systemic powers that conservatives support.

This mutated election cycle, with all of its craziness, has led to not only micro-aggressions but full on assaults on whole demographics by people from both sides. We are truly a fractured nation. What caught me off guard is the scope of the assaults that both sides seem more than willing to perpetrate against the other.

If you look to the right, Mr. Trump and his talking heads apparently enjoy attacking those who oppose them. Let's face it; their strategic offense is offensive. The only way to avoid their ire is to agree with them or avoid them. On the stump, Mr. Trump has lumped hard-working illegal immigrants with rapists and murderers. There is no room in his worldview to obey biblical commands to welcome the alien and the stranger. Likewise, his misogyny is on display nearly every day at every rally he attends. One doesn't have to read too far into the text to see he would have thrown the first stone at the woman caught in adultery, and that he would never have spoken to the woman at the well (except to command her to serve him). He is intentionally and strategically offensive. He is unapologetic and generates tribalism among his followers that is at best, frightening -- and at worst. lethal. 

What surprised me recently, however, is that the other side (though not as course and blatant) is just as deadly and intentional in their attacks on their enemies. When Secretary Clinton referred to half of Mr. Trump's supporters as "deplorables," she not only created a circle of hate; she created an apologetic for it. For, it is not wrong to hate deplorable things. Her allowance of hatred of the deplorables opens the door for all sorts of propaganda that twists and distorts the truth, further inflaming Mr. Trump's supporters. She continues to create an atmosphere that is unwelcoming and damning of anyone who dares to challenge her. This one misspoken phrase reveals much of the character and strategy of the Democratic party.

My Facebook feed is full of articles attempting to argue that it is impossible to oppose Secretary Clinton without being a misogynistic, racist, gay-hater. No longer is it merely Mr.Trump's supporters who are all those things. And now, it is anyone who opposes the former Secretary of State. In me at least, it has backfired, making Mr. Trump more palatable; and that realization disgusts me. I don't want shit ever to taste like anything I'd want to eat.

It has been common in this country to dehumanize your political opponents. There is nothing new in that. I may not like it, but I've grown accustomed to it. What feels different in this election is the attempt to dehumanize the followers of your political opponent. While conservatives blast the intelligence of the progressives (which is irony at its best); the progressives (I will no longer call them liberals -- for the word denies them entrance into its fraternity) blast right back. They do so more subtly and with longer words containing more syllables, but they do it nonetheless. Each side is attempting to dehumanize the other. 

The thing that most breaks my heart, however, is when my classmates and friends from my seminary who sat in lectures with me about micro-aggression and micro-trauma; who worship the same Jesus who we read about in the Holy Scriptures, violate their call to heal. They do so by tearing down those who disagree with them; dehumanizing them and making them, "less than." I want to believe that their micro-aggression is unintentional and that if they realized that they were creating micro-traumas in people, they would stop.

As people who claim to follow Jesus -- who urged anyone who would listen to him to repent and live in the Kingdom of Heaven; we are called to be Kingdom people. I don't care if you vote for Mr. Trump, Sec. Clinton, Gov. Johnson, Ms. Stein, Sasquatch, or my wife (her campaign slogan is: "No bad beer," BTW). For nearly all of us who live in Oregon and Washington, our votes don't matter. Our States' electors are already set. There is no urgency in this part of the country. We are still going to have conversations with others -- in particular with those whose hope rests in the temporary government of the USA. The way we have the conversation reveals how much we love our enemies; how willing we are to trust Jesus when he urges us to turn the other cheek. It reveals to which Kingdom we belong.

We are to be "salt and light." We are to care for the orphans, the widows, the aliens, and strangers (see refugees). We are to beat guns into plowshares and turn weapons into art which gives life rather than taking it. We are to feed the hungry, turn the other cheek, care for the grocery clerk or the gas station attendant who serves us. We are to bring life, joy, hope, peace, faith, and self-control to our world. It kinda needs it right now, don't you think? 

As long as we are focused on tearing down the intelligence of our political opponents, our focus is not where it needs to be. We can and need to demonstrate to the world how to disagree with each other and still love and respect one another. We can (and are called to live in the Kingdom of Heaven while we navigate this world's, wars, hurricanes, tornados, mudslides, earthquakes, raging fires, hunger and poverty,, racism, militarism, consumerism, individualism, and even elections. 

I recognize that there is a certain irony to this post. I hope in its current form there aren't any unseen micro-aggressions left. I think I also removed all the outright aggression as well. I don't want to shame anyone into trying to love better. Though sometimes I try. 

I don't write to discourage people from supporting their candidate of choice, or following their conscience and not voting at all. I write, wanting the conversation to shift, love to come to the forefront, and Christians to remember -- not only that they are royalty but that they are already residents of the Kingdom of Heaven.

Please help me get the 2 x 4 out of my eye

The new storyline that the Pulse killer was himself a closeted gay man changes this storyline drastically. It is wrong to call this a homophobic attack. Having said that, in some ways, it is much more devastatingly indicting of our current culture (I originally stated "American," but that is inaccurate. It is worldwide) or corporate psyche that pushes difference to the margins. Everyone pushes people away who are different (especially people that scare them or trigger their shame) to the margins of their psyches and physical lives. As we think about people who intimidate, frighten or repulse us, in our minds we have to make them small, ugly, repulsive,emasculated, and dehumanized. We make them "wholly other" to escape our shame and feel more powerful ourselves. For what we think we see in the one we hate is merely an image of our shattered selves that reveals the bits we or others broke off and would prefer stay hidden.

As a man, recognizing my tendencies to do this, and remembering doing it with homosexuals because of my insecurities, I relate to the above paragraph. All people do this, and not merely with sexual things (though sex is a powerful drive and it happens a lot in this arena). We do this with gender issues as well. Genesis 3 suggests that much of our misogyny is a result of this fear and is a resultant curse that drives men to "rule over" women.

Consequences and curses are nearly always connected to real life choices. Adam's chose to do nothing when the serpent tempted Eve. He was with her when she ate. The serpent didn't deceive him, and he still didn't say anything to try to stop her from eating. The only explanation I can find for his choices is that he was scared and so he froze -- a typical amygdalaian response. As men, we are famous for freezing. Our silence belies our fear. We are paralyzed by it and for a time, do not move or speak. When we ultimately do, if our amygdala is still in charge, we will most often act or speak violently. The level of our violence is directly related to the depth of the cortisol engulfing our amygdalas. At this point, we are hopelessly caught in a cycle that often becomes vicious and dangerous. I need to note here that though I am primarily speaking of men, women's brains are wired similarly, and though they may express violence differently, those acts are still sinister, kill, and destroy.

The reason the above conversation is vital to our understanding of this particular issue is that people live freely when fear is no longer a threat. What I realized this week is that as a 6'4" white male, who looks like he walked off the set of Sons of Anarchy, I don't know social fear like my gay friends. When I was much younger, I walked my dog Ashleigh -- a giant, gorgeous Gordan Setter -- down the north end of MLK in Portland late at night, greeting the prostitutes and drug dealers that used to hang out in my neighborhood. I was friendly to them, and they to me. Ashleigh made up her mind on a case by case basis. My lack of fear surprised those I encountered; many assumed I was a cop because I engaged them as humans who had worth without any fear. My wife never knew that freedom. I recently saw a meme about men fearing prison for the same reason women fear walking down the streets. My stature, my gender, and my race change the way that the world engages me. I have no fears about being physically attacked. My amygdala shoots into hyper-drive for entirely different reasons: creepy spiders and scary snakes, heights, or losing respect are what drive my amygdala crazy.

As a father of an attractive daughter, I'm aware that urban women live in a constant state of hyper-arousal and fear when they are alone on the streets. Fear accompanies them like a bad case of tinnitus. It is always in the background and never goes away. That is bad enough, but gays and transgendered people live not merely with a threat of physical harm, though this fear is all too real. They are forced to live with psychic fears surrounding their relationships as well, because who they are as people is not close enough to the center of other peoples' comfort zones. So they marginalize them. Not because they do or say anything; but merely because they've found freedom to embrace a part of themselves that scares others without that freedom to death. Ironically, their sexual freedom becomes their jailer.

My stature, gender, race change the way that the world engages with me. Police and authorities relate to me differently than they do people of smaller stature or people of color. My fears are not about being physically attacked. My amygdala shoots into hyper-drive for entirely different reasons. As a father of an attractive daughter, I've known that women live in a constant state of hyper-arousal and fear when they have to go out. Fear accompanies them like a bad case of tinnitus. That is bad enough, but gays and transgendered people live not merely with a threat of physical harm when they are out, though this fear is all too real. They are forced to live with psychic fear surrounding their relationships as well, because who they are as people is not close enough to the center of other peoples' comfort zones. They are marginalized, not because they do or say anything; but merely because they've found freedom to embrace a part of themselves that scares other (without that freedom) to death. Their sexual freedom, becomes their jailer, as others who do not know such freedom (because of their own shame)¹ push them out of the center to the edges -- away from what they consider normal.

Can you feel the bind? If one acknowledges this integral part of themselves, discovering the freedom that it brings, they place themselves in a societal jail of contempt; experiencing constant physical, emotional, and mental threats. On the other hand, if they don't acknowledge this core piece or drive, they are free societally --accepted and loved because they are part of the majority -- but they are bound internally, wasting away inside because they can't acknowledge a part of themselves that is very real and powerful.

Some people caught in this bind, are incapable of acknowledging it to themselves either because they believe their desire and their longings are morally wrong. If this is you, it is easy to understand why you get angry so quickly. Justin Torres poetically points out that, because of all these realities, the only place that the gay community experiences any true freedom is at the gay club. The club is the gay community's temple. It is the only place they know that they can go to be free together and play and release all the pent up tension that the hyper-vigilance of always protecting oneself creates. It is the only place for the gay community to release trauma together. He writes:

People talk about liberation as if it’s some kind of permanent state, as if you get liberated and that’s it, you get some rights and that’s it, you get some acknowledgment and that’s it, happy now? But you’re going back down into the muck of it every day; this world constricts. You know what the opposite of Latin Night at the Queer Club is? Another Day in Straight White America. So when you walk into the club, if you’re lucky, it feels expansive. “Safe space” is a cliche, overused and exhausted in our discourse, but the fact remains that a sense of safety transforms the body, transforms the spirit. So many of us walk through the world without it. So when you walk through the door and it’s a salsa beat, and brown bodies, queer bodies, all writhing in some fake smoke and strobing lights, no matter how cool, how detached, how over-it you think you are, Latin Night at the Queer Club breaks your cool. You can’t help but smile, this is for you, for us.

While that is an excruciatingly sad reality, It is the reality we've created (and by "we," I mean "us conservative type, white, apparently fearless males"). In so doing we have sinned greatly and owe a debt we can't repay. We can only ask how we can make it right; cause, the reality is we F**ked it up.

Jesus was clear that before we try to take the speck out of the other's eye, we need to take the 2x4 out of our eye. Because we like being at the center and holding the power, we keep refusing to do that. So before we about their "sin," we need to address our own first. We have put the gay community in an impossible situation, and we need to repent.

Dedicated to Jeffrey Tangeman, a college roommate that knew he could never be honest with me because of who I was rather than who he was. RIP, brother.

_________________________________________________

^{1 I am not suggesting that everyone is a homosexual. I am suggesting that a high percentage of people have unresolved sexual issues. Relatively few explore and address issues surrounding their sexuality and that the shame that inhabits it.} 

 

"A real reason to not allow women to teach men," he says with his tongue planted firmly in his cheek

I hope you like Satire... Shouting out to Beyonce here...

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This morning a colleague in A.C.T. International posted a link from a group that I'd never encountered before.: The Berean Research Organization. The thoughtless idiocy of the link he posted made me curious and so I tracked down the culprits who wrote it. Surprisingly to me, it was written by a woman. It is surprising because of the underlying hermeneutic of the piece disallows women from teaching a man in any way. So writing and disseminating this way out teaching should be off limits for a woman. 

I love that irony... Two women: Amy Spreeman and Marsha West head this project. On their page, they propagate vile, putrid, hateful, anti-scriptural, and Satanic views. (I just said that, and I meant it; for nothing is more contrary to the written Word of God, and the Living Word of God -- Jesus -- than their fearful hate and an apparent need to control the God of the universe.) I like to believe that it was women like these two that caused Paul to say some of the things he did about women teaching in both 1 Corinthians and the pastoral epistles. 

They state that: "Berean Research exists to help Christians discern and equip themselves to keep themselves and their brothers and sisters from falling into deception." Fear is the generator of their mission. If fear weren't an opposite to love, I probably wouldn't mind their outlandish arguments, but John is explicit, "perfect love expels fear" (1 John 4.18). Their mission is intentionally counter to the Scriptures they purport to protect. I don't know why this is true. Their hermeneutic teaches that it is true because they do not have strong enough men in their lives to give them a sense of safety and so they live in a perpetual state of fear. I do not know if this is true, I am merely trying to follow their hermeneutical pathway.

In an apparent lapse of any logical thought, they base some of their thinking on the belief that the True Church didn't begin until the Reformation. They urge their readers to disregard anyone who claimed to follow Christ before the mid-16th Century because apparently neither Scripture or the Holy Spirit were aroung before printing press and the Reformation. Everyone before was misguided, was all wrong, and evidently damned.

Paula noticed that I typically don't get this angry about wonky theology. She is right. It is bizarre for me to get so worked up over idiocy. My posture is very different than normal. It feels akin to when I stand up against abusive husbands and pastors. And it should, for that is exactly what I am doing here. Though, in this instance the abusers are women. May I always stand strongly against those who abuse -- especially Spiritual Abusers. In cases like this, may I mirror Jesus as described in Matthew 23, who stood against the Pharisees. May my words be as strong, but no stronger than His words, for they are directed at exactly the same crowd (albeit a different gender) living in a different millenium.

It is useless to point out the flaws in these two women's epistemology -- for they seem unaware of the consequences of their thought. They are unaware that they are making symbols into concrete reality, and are thereby creating idols for themselves and those who follow them. Indeed, they worship the symbol rather than the God to which the symbol points.

It is also fruitless to Illustrate the implosive nature of their hermeneutic. They clearly have no interest in the Living Truth, Jesus or His Word.¹ They only have an interest in controlling Him² and making Him less threatening to their theological agendas and emotional needs. They are described by the author of so many of the Proverbs as "foolish women." Please don't listen to them.

I wish I knew how to love these women, for I fear for their souls. They are so out of touch with the Holy Spirit and the Word of God. If I figure it out, I will let you know, because if their eschatology is correct, they are going to have literal hell to pay come Judgment day. 

A Prayer for me and for them:

Lord, please show me how to love the Pharisees of today no matter their gender. I swear that is the hardest thing you ask of me. I need your help.

May they be swallowed whole by your love and crushed by your grace. May they discover that their only hope of salvation is found in you rather than their interpretation of your words. May they discover the Savior they have so clearly missed; and may love rather than fear become hallmarks of their lives. Lord, also protect the foolish who follow them, not knowing any better. Protect them from the fear and the hate their teachers propoate. May they discover how big you are and the safety and comfort of your imminant transcendence.

---

 

¹ I make up in my mind that they will struggle with even the phraseology of referring to Jesus Christ, the Eternal Son of God as "the Living Truth," even though it is completely Biblical. In this instance, though the symbols match their symbols exactly, the usage of them is unfamiliar and therefore dangerous. I may be wrong about this, but my fear about them is consistent with some of their other complaints about the Biblical commands to fast (Joel 2.12, Mt 6.16-18, Mk 2.20, Lk 5.36, Acts 13.3) and meditate (Josh 1.8; Ps 48.9; 119.23, 27, 47, 52, 117; 145.5). But apparently they don't like Scripture when it disagrees with their world view. They'd never admit that. WHen it happens, they interpret the bits they don't like away, making them irrelevant for today. We might as well cut those parts out of our Bibles.

² It follows. See the curse in Gen. 3

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.

I Believe

1. In the everlasting Triune God.
2. That he created humanity and individuals in his image for and out of love for the purpose of loving relationship.
3. That creation, human existence, and knowledge can only be properly understood through a lens of relationship.
4. That the Scriptures are God's unique written word to us and for us and are made alive by his Holy Spirit
5. That all creation chooses “self" over relationship and lives in shame, which is death -- the death of relationships and the death of self.
6. That sin is anything that violates love and relationship; and that it always leads to shame.
7. That shame necessitates forgiveness and that forgiveness requires death
8. That Jesus is the Eternal Son and the Living Word of God; conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary; was sinless; was crucified by Pontus Pilot for the sins of creation and that He rose bodily from the dead by the power of the Holy Spirit.
9. That the primary metaphor to understand his death is efficacious substitutionary atonement.
10. That the cross created a moment in eternity where the perfect, loving, Triune relationship was forsaken and destroyed by the shame of the world which was absorbed and metastasized by Jesus.
11. That because of his resurrection, true life is possible  but not mandated for all creation and is found only in the furrow of death.
12. That the Church is the bride of Christ and his physical body on earth indwelt by the Spirit of God
13. That creation is on a journey of discovery of resurrection life offered in Christ.
14. That one day, all things will be restored and creation will itself be resurrected and given new life.

Priorities & the call of God

The turmoil our country is in right now has put me at odds with many of my mentors, and many of those I love who self identify as part of the Christian Right. First, it was immigration; now it is the violence of our police and a lack of accountability for those who are in power; indeed the systemic racism that so many are blind to differentiates me these days from friends, family and former teachers and mentors. 

Unlike some of my other friends on the Christian left who are angry with the Christian right, I am simply sad; heartbroken that Jesus has gone through a synchretistic morphing with capitalism into the protector of the powerful and the rich. Somewhere, this Advent -- a season of waiting for His return -- we've lost something near and dear to His heart. We've lost the fact that He came for the oppressed and marginalized and was killed by the out of control powers of a Roman State hell bent on protecting the status quo; fearful of Jews who they looked at in similar ways to the way we look at our African- American brothers and sisters -- as threats to their way of life and security.

In 351 AD things changed for the Church when Constantine made Christianity the State religion and Christians went from being outlaws, on the margins of society, to being in charge. It was Satan's biggest coup. Christ never wanted his followers to be in charge. He even said, "Do not look at authority the way the Gentiles do when they Lord it over one another." And yet that is precisely what we have done. And since such power is blessed by the church, it was easy for republic -- a government by the people for the people -- to morph into government by the corporate powers for the wealthy and privileged (most of whom are white).

The problem didn't stop with Constantine. Indeed, violence has been a part of our nation from birth to our adolescent Civil War, to genocide of Native Americans, and the inslavery of Africans. It has carried on into the present with our economic raping of Southeast Asia, Africa, and the Middle East and many, if not all of our neighbours to our south. We have taken that which we havce coveted, and trodden on any and all that get in our way. And we have done it all in the name of freedom and God, which is no freedom at all, but actual slavery to mammon. Who in these instances, has proven to be our god, for we cannot serve two masters.

At some point those of us that follow Christ have to drop what we are doing (what He has called us to do) and pay attention to the abominations our government and corporations and, indeed, even our own choices that support them. At some point we need to shift our focus from our primary callings because those abominations are too horrific to be ignored any longer.

I don't know when that time will come. Perhaps it is already here. Up to this point, my primary concern, my life work, has centered around issues of spiritual abuse; loving the abused and the broken so that the cycle of abuse, which is so prevalent in Christ's Church will stop. However, if things keep going the way they are going, I will have no choice but to join the throngs of those who are marching and protesting because the physical violence must stop. Triage will require I step into something I don't want to step into, because if I don't my son will have to step into it later on at much greater cost.

America must repent, for "we the people" are greedy, consumptionistic,fearful of anything that threatens those things, and violent toward those we see as threats. We need to turn from our sin and cry out for mercy or go the way of every other Empire that has gone before us. Maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing.