Change

#BlackShirtDay

Last week I went on a walk with my youngest. She is thirteen years old. We chatted for a bit as we walked and then both settled into the pace and the quiet.

However, after a time, she asked me, “What are you thinking about?” It’s a favourite question. I answered and then asked her. “What are you thinking about?”

13yr old: I’m wondering if the people who made that show, Raising Dion, are going to make another season.

Me: I really enjoyed that show. I think they will. What do you like about it?

13yr old: I like his super powers.

Me: Don’t you think Dion’s mother was so stressed out? Raising kids with super powers must be something parents have to worry about.

13yr old: I have super powers.

Me: Yes?

13yrd old: I can write stories.

Me: Yes you can!

I’m asking you and I ask myself, “Should I be worried?”

I do worry. But not because of her super powers, but because her skin is black and she is growing up on a continent where white racial preferences and powers so often resist full kinship and economic inclusion with people who are black. She lives in a place where engagements with white people can become authority encounters vacated of generosity and acceptance if the expected respect and deference is not forthcoming. She lives where things turn ugly if the cultural rules of whiteness are not accepted. These kinds of encounters can happen on the street, in a school, on the playground, online, in a restaurant, in a classroom, on a protest line, in a church, at a friend’s house, in the park, at work, in a board room, on the sidewalk, in a store, at a gas station, in an auditorium, in the legislature, on the bus, in the courtroom, on the beach, over coffee…

Will she be ready? Will she be fortified in heart with the courage required to exercise her super powers and not be overcome by evil? Will she know she is beloved?

I know super powers do not protect us from the violence of hate. But I hope if my 13yr old gives voice to her stories and that she will play a part in realizing Martin Luther King Jr.’s dream. It’s his birth day, 15 January; he was born in 1929 and died in the year of my birth, 1968, assassinated while I was still in my mother’s womb. I didn’t know him, but I have been shaped by the spirit and content of his powers in speech and in leadership and in his dream.

But still, I worry.

(Here’s a shout out to Harambee Cultural Society who have encouraged us to get beyond worry and do something together. Thank you!)

Is this an apology?

My wife and I have taken to walking in the dark. It’s seems to be our only way to keep exercising as winter approaches, the daylight hours shorten, and the pandemic keeps us out of the gym.

I stopped in my tracks and laughed out loud the other night as we entered the intersection of 33rd and Ontario here in Vancouver. We both stopped to take a picture of the new banners at the corner of what used to be the community known as Little Mountain Housing.

If you don’t know about the sale of public land that had been dedicated to provided affordable housing in our city you can read about it, but you won’t learn much about the deal. Instead all that we know for sure is that there has been a long wait to realize any real gains for our city from the deal.

I’m not sure if Holburn is apologizing for the long wait; but I think they are. We should all take notice.

I was reading this very morning from Psalm 12 and the phrase in verse 5 captured me: “Because the poor are plundered and the needy groan, I will now arise,” says the LORD. “I will protect them from those who malign them.”

The issue remains, public lands have been sold that were dedicated to providing stability to the poor and vulnerable in our city. This land right in the heart of our municipality was set aside to provide housing stability and therefore opportunities for those who were vulnerable. I know that’s idealistic. I don’t romanticize the situation that existed there and that exists today in our city for those on the verge of homelessness. But I fear that Hoblurn’s promoted ambition to create “elevated lifestyles” is an idealism that does not include the poor.

I welcome correction.

Lasting as a Pastor

Very few of us get to pastor the same congregation for 40 years. The word “same” is misleading. For although some pastors may serve the same congregation by name and place, she or he will discover quickly the congregation is always changing. It’s getting older. It’s getting younger. Folks are moving away. Folks are moving in. It’s responsive to leadership. It’s leading you.

The congregation is always changing.

Even Moses knew his congregation was changing. Grumpy periods were a sure sign that departures were coming soon. Demands came as regularly as hungry bellies in the morning. Mutiny drove him to cry out to God. And most of the congregation wasn’t always interested in getting as close to God as he was. What mattered most to Moses wasn’t at the top of their minds.

The congregation is always changing.

Such change can be wearisome. Moses didn’t just survive on his call. (Exodus 4) He survived on the Presence of God. A tent became a meeting spot when the daily demands didn’t permit 40 day retreats. The Presence of God came to him in the pillar of cloud. And they talked as friends, face to face, presence to presence. They were friends because God came down.

The pastors are always changing.

We can descend into the selfish shadows of our of hearts or we can enter into the wild wonder of God. Sure, Moses stayed with this exodus congregation for forty years. But surely he didn’t remain the same. I believe he was marked by these humble requests in responses to God for the next forty years: teach me your ways, go with us, and show me your glory. (Exodus 33)

God met him. God taught him. God went with them. God showed him his glory.

Who can remain steady through all the years?

And so I pray: Teach me your ways. Go with us. Show me your glory.

Slow Reflection Required

For a week I’ve been processing the prophetic vision God gave Bob Ekblad. He writes about it here, “Exposing and Repenting of Racial Injustice.”

Then Timothy Dalrymple from Christianity Today writes a painful call for churches to face the painful realities of slavery and their complicity in theft. He writes,

“Two original sins have plagued this nation from its inception: the destruction of its native inhabitants and the institution of slavery. Both sprang from a failure to see an equal in the racial other. As Bishop Claude Alexander has said, racism was in the amniotic fluid out of which our nation was born. There was a virus present in the very environment that nurtured the development of our country, our culture, and our people. The virus of racism infected our church, our Constitution and laws, our attitudes and ideologies. We have never fully defeated it.”

How could anyone read that and not want to be repentant? 

What is the Holy Spirit saying to the churches?

So after watching the Giglio, Cathey, Lacrea video, The Beloved Community, I’m asking myself, “Why is the church so weak?” Lord have mercy we are ASTHENEIA! How can we land in the language of “blessing” for slavery? ever. It’s awful!

Then I’m finding a whole segment of white Christians who still want to argue about personal responsibility as if America is a great moral vivarium and experiment in the exercise of individual rights. These days we’ve been invited to a funeral and all they can talk about is who’s fault is it and all they can say is stuff that basically equates to “Well everybody dies.”

And then I stumbled on the posting of a friend that was normalizing the language of extermination. Vile and wicked so it was. I walked around for an hour deeply grieved. How could this be in a brother’s heart? What cesspool did he dive in to find this stuff?

I think slow reflection is needed.

So if any video or summary of history has moved you a bit, even if it is by Phil Visher from Veggie Tales, please read a book. If you aren’t ready to read a book, at least read some testimonies of what it’s like to Breathe While Black. I’ve been moved by these.

I know you were hoping you could just go ask a co-worker. Don’t do it. Don’t ask them to be your counsellor for change. You are exhausting them.

Slow reflection is needed so read a book.

Some changes are coming quickly for some policy, but in the time that it takes you to read a book, some change could happen in you. Language expresses the heart. And we need some changes at the heart. Reading is marination of the soul.

There’s a lot of gospel work to be done. 

From my own reading list:

Stamped from the Beginning. Ibram X. Kendi
How to be an AntiRacist. Ibram X. Kendi
The Christian Imagination: Theology and the Origins of Race. Willie Jennings.
White Fragility. Robin DiAngelo 
Between The World and Me. Ta-Nehisi Coates
Through the years I’ve read the works of Toni Morrison and Maya Angelou

Slow reflection is needed. Read a book. You will find The Christian Imagination to be especially taxing. Reading slowly and seeking comprehension is good.

I’m forming an opinion that part of the reason we (the white-ish churches of North America) are so weak is that we have narrow emotional veins and our vision of Christian maturity is utterly malformed. Maybe a slow work through The Emotionally Healthy Church could be helpful for learning how to grieve. The lack of empathy still confounds me. But where empathy is lacking perhaps there has been unmetabolized griefs. 

At the end of the day without slow reflection there is no love and no repentance. 

There’s a lot of gospel work to be done. Read the Bible and read a book.

(I know, there’s a lot of podcasts to listen to as well. That’s not my realm. I’ve got one chorus in this post: Read a book.)

Update, 16 Jun3 2020. Louie Giglio has posted an apology for his “blessing” statement.

Arch Towards Hope & The Resurrection

I have been reflecting on a question asked by Dr. Willie Jennings in his commentary on Acts. “What would it mean to educate people inside this hope?

Jennings speaks of educating people inside the hope of the Resurrection of Jesus. The context for his question is Paul’s case before Felix in Acts 24. Tertullus represents the argument of the state. Paul represents himself. 

Jennings writes, “We don’t know whether Tertullus is Jew or Gentile, but that is not important for understanding his purpose in this story. What is crucial is that he is intellectual and legal power being marshalled against an innocent man. Luke here marks judicial sin that speaks to a wider condition—intellectual prowess in league with death. How many women, men, and children have been sentenced to prison, torture, and death through this kind of demonic connection? How many well-trained men and woman have used their gifts to destroy life? Here we see the discursive arts fully corrupted, and what makes that even more horrible is that such corrupted discursive arts are being used by the people of God.”

Over the last several years I have watched and listened as people who name the name of Jesus post and repost to their platforms without reflecting theologically about the topic for themselves, or even demonstrating Jesus’ compassion for people. They are very concerned for their political side and have crafted an identity in which Jesus is their politician of choice.  Oh not that they are voting for Jesus. It’s just that their hope seems to be that Jesus has ordained their leader. A look down their feed reveals a famine of the Word or of Jesus’ compassion. I really wouldn’t know that they know Jesus or reflect on His Word much at all. Jesus allows no proxy. Could we be in “league with death” when we do such?

Through the memes and the outrage I have wondered if there is a way through this. “What would it mean to educate people inside” the hope of the resurrection of Jesus?

Why hasn’t the church done better?

I have tried to do two things along the way with Jesus and His Word: 1. Every day, listen to people I don’t reflexively agree with.  And 2. Practice what Dallas Willard calls the “habit of not having the last word.”

That means I have at times allowed others to work out some things in conversation online with me. And I didn’t agree. And I didn’t keep taking them on. I left it. It also means that I have taken the conversation behind the scenes in private messages and that every once in a while I have had to remove a post from my wall. But in general, I’ve tried to remain friends with folks I don’t agree with.

I’ve tried to deny myself. Like a mad farmer, I’ve tried to practice the call of Kentucky’s Wendell Berry: Practice Resurrection.

Not everyone can take it. Some defriend and defund if their loyalties to state or denomination are tested. But still I find myself asking not for my own benefit alone, but for us all: what are we to do with the eloquent arts of this day that come to us in crafted videos and sound bites?

When the religious people joined Tertullus in Felix’s court, Jennings writes, “They build on the discursive power of Tertullus. This is the way of the world, and it has historically been also the way of many churches in many places, operating alongside and inside the machinations of brilliant but evil orators, lawyers, advocates who become our hired guns. Yet what has been more damnable has been our failure, a Christian failure to dedicate against the misuse of intellectual skill, verbal dexterity, and eloquence. Too often we have been mystified by such gifts and have idealized them abstracted from the real history of the horror they have created and the suffering they continue to inflict. We have been too quick to rush to their defence, announcing the inherent goodness of such gifts and the glory of those who exhibit them without counting the cost of their use. Tertullus has become a weapon of unrighteousness, and we must always ask ourselves, how might we prevent creation of such weapons?”

In Acts 24 Paul launches his defense. He states the facts and he moves beyond the facts to weave the gospel into his argument. How are we to think about the skills of Tertullus and Paul. Are they only duelling minds or there another conflict present?

Jennings writes, “Tertullus and Paul represent intellectual life before cross, resurrection, and the coming of the Spirit and intellectual life after these world-shattering and life-creating realities. Paul now speaks inside the hope of resurrection and as one who yields to the Spirit. His words aim at faithfulness and gesture divine presence. He certainly wants to win, finding justice against false accusations, yet the arch of his discursive work bends toward the resurrected body of Jesus. He speaks in witness to the hope of the resurrection.”

Don’t you love that?

Jennings continues, “What would it mean to educate people insider this hope? What would it mean to immerse, that is, to baptize intellectual ability, verbal dexterity, and eloquence inside the body of Jesus, inside his death and resurrection and his sending of th Spirit, so that our words, no matter of what we speak arch toward hope and give witness to resurrection?”

O Glory! What would it be to always speak no matter the subject in such a way that my words arch toward hope and give witness o the resurrection of Jesus?

In these days I’ve been on the look out for anyone who speaks of the pandemic, racism, and the protests of police brutality with an arch toward hope and so they give witness to the resurrection of Jesus. I am not comparing skills. I am looking for the Spirit of Jesus.

Today. Here is an example. Dr. Esau McCaulley writes,

“Racism sweeps our land, and the weakest among us suffer the most.

As I watch the news these days, I see genuine expressions of sympathy for the black situation in America. But I don’t simply want people to feel sorry for us. I want freedom. And in my best moments, I remember where that hope for freedom resides. It resides in the God who conquered death. Although the full fruition of that freedom will not come on this side of heaven, nonetheless, I am not forbidden the beginnings of it here and now. By desiring freedom now, I am not turning America into the kingdom. I am demanding the right to live and love and work as a free black child of God.

The defeat of death is God’s great triumph. It reshapes the Christian imagination, forever obliterating the limits we place upon our Creator. As the protests press on, then, I pray today and every day that we remember the Resurrection, when the entire cosmos became something different. We have yet to realize the full scope of that change.”

Esau McCulley, I Have Only One Hope for Racial Justice: A God Who Conquered Death, Christianity Today, 10 June 2020Esau McCulley, I Have Only One Hope for Racial Justice: A God Who Conquered Death, Christianity Today, 10 June 2020

Arch toward hope and give witness to the resurrection of Jesus.

Willie James Jennings, Acts, in the series Belief: A Theological Commentary On The Bible, 2017, pages 212-215