The Church

PRISM on earth as it is in heaven: radical love made visible

Behold, God is doing a new thing! Redefining church in the 21st century

The [x] factor:

John Perkins, Sarah Bessey, Eugene Cho, Phyllis Tickle, and dozens more share what gives them HOPE for the church When your church leaves you Engaging the Deaf community Pastor Ken Wilson on the redemptive role of sexual minorities in the church Also: ยงPost-traumatic growth ยงThe power of financial transparency Saying goodbye to PRISM after 21 years of running the good race!

FALL 2014

1 PRISMMAGAZINE.ORG

PRISM Vol. 21, No. 4 Fall 2014 Editor Creative Director Copy Editor Deputy Director Publishers Operations Manager

Kristyn Komarnicki Rhian Tomassetti Leslie Hammond Sarah Withrow King Al Tizon & Paul Alexander Josh Cradic

Contributing Editors Christine Aroney-Sine Clive Calver Rudy Carrasco Andy Crouch Gloria Gaither David P. Gushee Jan Johnson Craig S. Keener Peter Larson Richard Mouw Philip Olson Jenell Williams Paris Christine Pohl James Skillen James Edwards Jim Wallis

Myron Augsburger Issac Canales M. Daniel Carroll R. J. James DeConto Perry Glanzer Ben Hartley Stanley Hauerwas Jo Kadlecek Marcie Macolino Mary Naber Earl Palmer Derek Perkins Elizabeth D. Rios Lisa Thompson Heidi Rolland Unruh Bruce Wydick

Editorial Board

Miriam Adeney Tony Campolo Luis Cortés Richard Foster G. Gaebelein Hull Karen Mains Vinay Samuel Tom Sine Eldin Villafane

George Barna Rodney Clapp Samuel Escobar William Frey Roberta Hestenes John Perkins Amy Sherman Vinson Synan Harold DeanTrulear

Ron Sider

Editorial Information Editor email: KKomarni@eastern.edu Unsolicited submissions will not be returned unless they include an SASE.

A Publication of Evangelicals for Social Action The Sider Center on Ministry and Public Policy EvangelicalsforSocialAction.org Palmer Theological Seminary of Eastern University

CONTENTS FALL 2014

“Be alert, be present. I’m about to do something brand-new. It’s bursting out! Don’t you see it? There it is! I’m making a road through the desert, rivers in the badlands.” Isaiah 43:18-19

2 REFLECTIONS That You May Abound in Hope 14 Rebuilding the Temple 3 TALK BACK The church is facing increasing marginalization—even WHOLE 4 Coming to the Table 5 Too Poor to Save? 6 Feeding Dreams 7 The Drinkable Book 8 “Family Is Most Important” PROTESTIMONY 10 A Hunger Strike, Detention, and the Bread of Life

10 Fight the “Bed Mandate” 12 The Fork in the Road 13 Remembering Jim Brady COUNTERCULTURE 52 The Gift of Financial Transparency 53 Heart Collector 53 When Your Church Leaves You 54 Reverse Tithe? 55 Churches without Walls CONSUME 56 Sacred Journeys with Bruce Feiler 56 Dresses for Success 57 The Alarm: Marching On 58 Kidnapped for Christ, book reviews 62 esXaton Paying Our Respects 64 THE LAST WORD

persecution. Will we grasp for the final vestiges of cultural authority or move forward with humility, creativity, and outstretched arms?

20 Church + [x] = Hope

Listen up: Two dozen pastors, activists, and cultural engagers share the reason for the hope that lies within them.

25 Soup and Solidarity at the Lord’s Supper

Welcome to St. Lydia’s Dinner Church: Roll up your sleeves, pull up a chair, and let your hungry soul partake.

28 Succor and Salvation The church has what it takes to eliminate the evil of poverty. Will we accept the challenge and live into our calling? 32 The Great Commission Here at Home

The Deaf community is the third-largest unreached people group. How can the church start bridging the divide?

36 “It’s Time for Pastors to Step Up”

Ken Wilson asks hard questions about what it means to truly pastor the gay folks and their families who are sitting in the pews.

42 The Gay Community and That One Time Jesus Called Me the N-Word A pastor gets blindsided by hate and finds in it the unexpected gift of love.

44 The Kingdom Family

If we invite God to shape our ideas about family, we might discover what it means to be the church.

48 The Price of Pain

Secondary trauma is an all-too-real risk for modern abolitionists.

50 Post-Traumatic Growth

Does trauma really have anything positive to offer?

Cover: Detail from Soliloquies—Joy by Makoto Fujimura (2009, mineral pigments and gold on Belgian linen, 80 x 64 inches)

REFLECTIONS That You May Abound in Hope You tend to feel most hopeful when things are “going your way.” You nail that first post-graduation job interview. You wake up to clear skies on your (April/outdoor) wedding day. Your kid walks off with a spring in his step to his first day of kindergarten. The world is full of promise. You feel the warmth of God’s smile on your shoulders. But if you (really) believe the gospel, and you live past the age of, say, 15, you eventually figure out that things are never what they appear to be. Good times are often fleeting. And, as my wise father used to say, “Pain will come.” It’s guaranteed. I always found that statement strangely comforting, because it meant that bad things would happen whether I worried or not, whether I prepared for every conceivable glitch or not. It was beyond my control. Or as Jesus says in John 16:33, “In this world you will have trouble. But”—you gotta love the but—“take heart!” he said. “I have overcome the world.” So, in my better moments, I remember to relax. Jesus is in the business of overcoming. God’s in charge. I’m not. Phew. The gospel of Jesus Christ is all about overcoming and hope, but it’s also pretty clear (and brutally honest) about how life looks and feels while the victory is being won. It looks like a dead thing and feels like being buried in the cold ground (just ask that seed in Jesus’ parable). It looks like a crucifixion and feels like a dark tomb (just ask Jesus). It looks like a prison cell and feels like iron chains (just ask Paul). That’s not typically what comes to mind when we talk about feeling hopeful. Why is that? These days most of us who love the church are not feeling particularly hopeful. We read the reports of dwindling church attendance/membership. We see division and polarization in our denomination, if not in the very pews of our local church. Christians have lost many of our coveted places in the halls of power. Everywhere we look we are reminded that we are living in a post-Christian world. But the church isn’t any more lost or wretched than before, because the church is Christ’s own body. And Christ does not flee from or disdain wounds; he embraces and heals us with them (Isaiah 53:5). Christ doesn’t vie for popularity; he is despised and “like one from whom people hide their faces” (Isa. 53:3), and he’s not surprised by that. Christ doesn’t base his kingdom on numerical growth or sanctuary square-footage; he favors small, almost invisible things, like mustard seeds, grains of salt, yeast. Christ didn’t come to Super Glue his hands to the levers of political power; he doesn’t need to, because he “will reign

forever and ever” (Ex. 15:18). So while things might look and feel pretty bad for churches these days, things are, in fact, neither unexpected nor unusually alarming. Because in this world, as we’ve heard, we will have trouble, but Jesus has overcome. And God is doing a new thing—always! Every morning God’s mercies are new. This issue of PRISM directs our attention to what’s happening beyond the walls of the Western world’s leaking churches, outside the box of traditional ecclesial thinking, between the lines of Pew reports and Gallup polls. We go into the metaphorical ground, tomb, prison cell to discover where the body of Christ is alive, thriving, and going about its usual business of transformation and redemption— through everyday folks like you and me—at food co-ops and around kitchen tables, in conference rooms and living rooms, on ski slopes and in detention centers, in urban parks and rural villages. Throughout this issue you will find reflections from Christians who hold out hope for the church, identifying the source of that hope in various ways. Try their lenses on for size: Do you see what they see? Can you, too,

find hope in the Eucharist, humility, unity, justice, discipleship, etc.? You already root your hope in the origin of their confidence—which is to say in the Author and Finisher of our faith. Jesus is the reason for the hope that lies within each of us. Because of him—and only because of him—we can possess real hope. I think it is fitting that our last issue of PRISM is about the church. Like the church, PRISM is undergoing some significant transitions right now. We are trusting Christ to transform what looks like the death of a beloved magazine into new works, with new wings. We won’t look the same from here on out, but we’ll be providing the same challenging and heartening content you’ve come to count on in the pages of PRISM for the last 21 years—only now it will be on the ESA website. Please look for us there. In the meantime, “May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit” (Rom. 15:13).

Kristyn Komarnicki will miss curating each issue of PRISM, a labor of love that she has relished for the last 14 years. She is thankful for the hundreds of writers, artists, activists, pastors, and ministries she has worked with during this time. Helping get your stories out to the church has been a joy and a privilege.

Here are a few loving farewell letters from folks who will miss holding PRISM in their hands! I'm very sorry about the loss of PRISM. It has been such an important source for true evangelical engagement.

Amy Laura Hall, associate professor of Christian Ethics at Duke Divinity School The print version of PRISM has been such a light to so many, such a needed prophetic voice in the evangelical world! Thank you for your vision, your sacrifice, and the countless hours of work. In the economy of the kingdom, it all counts, and it is returning good fruit.

Tim Otto, a pastor at the Church of the Sojourners in San Francisco and author of Oriented to Faith: How the Debate about Homosexuality Can Help the Church Reclaim the Gospel

Tate Krupa

Anthony Grimes

Makoto Fujimura

Emily Dause

Landon Eckhardt

Sammy Adebiyi

Jen Carpenter

Tim Hoiland

Sarita Fowler

Nicole Morgan

Scott Todd

Kimberly Zayak

Nita Belles

Maria Russell Kenney

Tim Otto

Rick Chamiec-Case, executive director, North American Association of Christians in Social Work

If anything, the world needs PRISM’s voice more than ever. There is so much about our culture to which Christians can speak wisdom and healing, and PRISM has always been a forum for delivering that. Many things that go by are missed, but PRISM is more than that; it is important. I so appreciate your hard work over the years—and am so glad you will be continuing on in the virtual sphere. John Backman, author of Why Can’t We Talk? Christian Wisdom on Dialogue as a Habit of the Heart, member of the board of directors for the National Coalition for Dialogue & Deliberation

@ Email the editor: kkomarni@eastern.edu

THIS ISSUE’S CONTRIBUTORS INCLUDE:

I have been so fond of PRISM for so long now, I can’t imagine this issue being your last. I understand the business reasons behind this, but I can’t help but feel the loss (for me and so many others who have been influenced by PRISM through the years). I am grateful that the content will still be available on the ESA website, but as we all know, PRISM was so much more than just great content. What a blessing and a gift it has been for these many, many years!

Join the Conversation

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WHOLE

Healing a fractured world.

Coming to the Table When I walked into the chapel at Eastern Mennonite University, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I had driven up and over the mountain from my farm home, and I was ready, but this wasn’t going to be an easy weekend. Few things make Americans as nervous as talking about race, yet this past May, 80 people gathered at Eastern Mennonite to do just that. These were not just conversations about the concept of race—about privilege and equality and justice, for example, although those things did come up. The conversations were of a much more personal nature, for most of the people in attendance at the national gathering for Coming to the Table were either the descendants of slave owners or descendants of enslaved people. They—we—came together to listen to and share with one another, knowing this is the only way to heal the wounds. In 2006, Coming to the Table held its first national gathering, and from there the organization has grown in its mission to “provide leadership, resources, and a supportive environment for all who wish to acknowledge and heal wounds from racism that is rooted in the United States’ history of slavery.” During our time together, we watched the film Cracking The Codes: The System of Racial Inequality by Shakti Butler and discussed identity and the definitions people impose on each other. We had conversations about reparations and white privilege, about historic preservation and genealogy. We sat

myself, how to let it shape all of me, including my white skin. At shared meals and in the quiet spaces between formal times, we talked quietly and intensely, heads leaned in close. Laughter echoed through the halls. A lot of us cried. Some shouted. It was a beautiful, hard space. On our last day together, we gathered in a huge circle, every face visible to every other face. Our teachers reminded us that we had all—every one of us—been harmed by the legacy of slavery in different ways, that our job was not to fix each other but to hear each other, and that the good intentions that had brought us together were to be honored in that space. It was, I believe, the truest description of community I had ever experienced. So I spent the last hour in that space trying to listen, trying not to answer (even silently to myself) but just listening, honoring the feelings, the experience, the pain, and the growth of every person there. Sometimes I slipped into my own mind—my justifications, my defensiveness—but mostly, I just sat, safe and open. When it came time for me to speak, when the totem of the microphone passed into my hands, I simply said, “I am grateful and hopeful.” For that’s what Coming to the Table gives—a profound sense of gratitude for the people who are willing to enter into these hard conversations, for the

in small groups, passing a totem as a signal that an individual had the floor, and shared our reasons for being there—to heal the wounds some of us have carried from generations of enslavement, to unmask the shame some of us carry because of our ancestors’ roles as enslavers, to find a better way forward together. My interest in Coming to the Table was sparked by the fact that I was raised on a former plantation where many people were at one time enslaved, and in a very real way that land has Our teachers reminded us that we had all—every one of shaped who I am. us—been harmed by the legacy of slavery in different I attended hoping ways, that our job was not to fix each other but to hear each other, and that the good intentions that had brought that the Coming us together were to be honored in that space. It was, I to the Table folks believe, the truest description of community I had ever could teach me experienced. how to navigate the very hard conversations I often have—especialsafe space to speak honestly of pain that so many ly since publishing a book on the lives of the people feel is false or unreasonable, and a deep, deep hope who were slaves on the land I grew up on—about that as long as we keep talking, as long as we keep race and the legacy of slavery. That’s the reason I gathering together at the table, we will find our way told myself (and others) I had come. through it all. But I had also come because I am the descenLearn more at ComingToTheTable.org. dant of free people of color—African Americans who had never been enslaved—and the descenAndrea Cumbo-Floyd (AndiLit.com) dant of enslavers— European Americans who had is a writer, editor, and writing teachowned other people. My great-great-grandfather, er whose book The Slaves Have James Henry, had been born a black man to a family Names tells the story of the people of free black people. But at age 7, he moved away enslaved on the plantation where into the home of white people and began to pass. she was raised. She and her husband live on God’s When he was older, he married my great-great Whisper Farm in Virginia’s Blue Ridge Mountains. grandmother, a white woman whose father owned slaves. So I had come to the National Gathering because I did not know how to take that story into

Too Poor to Save? Far into a rural area of Rwanda, I’m met by a group of 22 women, singing and dancing in their brightly colored African print dresses. Their message is as simple as the name of their group: “We Are Women on the Move!” The wide smiles spread across their faces radiate the newly found confidence and joy that they’ve gained through working together in a simple savings group. In 2008, World Relief embarked on a mission to break cycles of poverty by initiating communitybased savings groups in six African countries through a program called Savings for Life (SFL). I have the privilege of advising and supporting the local staff who lead the SFL program in each country. The need for SFL is obvious: 1.2 billion people are living in extreme poverty as defined by the World Bank (that is, on less than $1.25/day). Additionally, more than 75 percent of the world’s materially poor don’t have access to a bank; they have no safe place to store up resources or any viable means to gain credit. Instead they turn to risky saving methods: hiding money under a mattress or storing it with a neighbor. And loans for the poor may only come through local moneylenders who charge astronomical interest rates. Simply put, systems have been built against the poor that keep them in poverty. The Savings for Life program addresses this injustice in a way that empowers the materially poor to understand that they have it within themselves to make a better future for their families and to help them start taking some of those first steps. Here’s how the SFL program works: • SFL groups are made up of 10-25 self-selected members, with a majority of these being women, who meet together weekly for savings and loan activities. • Members save money though purchasing one to five shares at each meeting with a set share price agreed upon by all the members. • All money is kept inside the group’s “bank,” a three-lock metal box with three key-holders and a fourth member who protects the box at his or her home. • Loans are given, at a maximum of three times ones’ saved capital and are to be repaid to the group with an interest rate agreed upon by the group. • Groups also have a Social Fund that acts as a micro-insurance; this allows them to receive grants in times of emergencies or celebrations. • After a cycle of nine to 12 months of sav-

ing and lending, the group performs a “share out” where each member receives back all of his or her savings with a portion of the interest earned (generally an astounding 25-45 percent). World Relief does not provide any of the capital to the groups. Instead all money for savings and loans comes from the members themselves. What they do receive is training from a World Relief field-based trainer in group formation, policies, and meeting management. Faith-based messages are integrated throughout this training, recognizing that just as the members are more than just their financial lives, this SFL group is more than just economic development. There’s also a weekly Bible study—

WORLD RELIEF’S SAVINGS FOR LIFE STATS: • Operating in six countries: Burundi, DR Congo, Kenya, Malawi, Rwanda, South Sudan • Total number of SFL members: 122,863 in 5,360 groups • Total amount mobilized in savings: $8,496,266 ($69.33 per member) • Overall loan repayment rate: 99.8 percent • Number of staff: 63, with 470 church-based volunteers based upon Bryant Myers’ model in Walking with the Poor: Principles and Practices of Transformational Development (Orbis Books, 2011)—where the group explores issues of poverty and the reconciling of relationships between oneself and God, others, and creation. The Savings for Life model is unique. While some Christian programs might focus more on a person’s spiritual development, leaving the economic change to happen as a mere byproduct of the spiritual change, the SFL’s field-based trainers walk with individual savings groups through their first

savings cycle, ensuring the group has financial success as well as learns the policies and procedures to continue new savings cycles without external support. In contrast to secular organizations that address only the financial aspect of the people’s lives, SFL makes strides to holistically address a person’s spiritual, social, and economic needs. The changes we see from SFL surpass our already high hopes. For the first time in their lives, many of the SFL members are achieving some of their economic dreams: children in school, houses repaired or rebuilt to fit the needs of the family, homes connected to electricity, and businesses launched to generate income for the families’ needs. Groups also testify to the positive social support the group provides. Members receive grants from the Social Fund as well as find practical ways to care for each other’s hardships. Finally, although it’s the least quantifiable change, the most dramatic change in members’ lives is the sense of dignity, empowerment, and pride they experience after successfully saving money, achieving dreams, and building their own resilience. Each time I attend the end of cycle “share out,” my eyes fill with tears as I witness the empowerment and strength the members have gained. Sitting in front of a literal pile of small bills, usually amounting to over $2,000, I see members who once thought they were “too poor to save” now courageously taking steps towards a better future.

Courtney O’Connell is World Relief’s senior technical advisor for the Savings for Life program. She lives in Kigali, Rwanda, and spends her free time biking throughout Rwanda’s beautiful hills and countryside. If you’d like more information about the SFL program, contact her at coconnell@wr.org.

After the meeting, a co-op member waits for a ride home.

tive grew as an opportunity to work with people in a way that had dignity and created community as opposed to being a handout where the “person in charge” feels good about himself. I think a lot of our church charity seems to be about salving our consciences without really having to know people or to create risks. What pushed you toward creating a cooperative in your community?

Feeding Dreams Urban Recipe is a food cooperative launched by Georgia Avenue Community Ministry in Atlanta, Ga., in 1991. Since its mention in Robert Lupton’s Toxic Charity, Urban Recipe has been gaining national recognition for its vision of food security for all people. We connected with the executive director, Chad Hale, to discuss how this dream for community food security came about.

Hale: Some Methodist folks down in Tampa, Fla., put out a little booklet called Out of the Pit, which I stumbled on through our local food bank around 1989. I just loved this model, because what we were doing at the time was more like a food pantry with vouchers from a local grocery store (especially a nonprofit grocery that was formed here). But we could only help a minimal amount. And it just wasn’t creating meaningful relationships. So when I learned of this model, I was intrigued! We were given a small grant that allowed us to launch the cooperative after we consulted with potential members to see if they would even want to be involved in something like this. We ended up voting and launched our first food co-op for lowincome families in 1991. We did that with 13 families. The grant organization gave us $3,000, which paid for one year of food. Not being able to develop something on a much larger scale helped me realize that I didn’t really want to do something “for” people—I really wanted to do something “with” people.

How did issues of poverty and race become important in your life? Chad Hale: It began when I was child. I’m from Dallas originally and grew up in the Southern Baptist Convention, in an era where these issues were still heightened by segregation. While I was nurtured in many good ways, I was also uncomfortable with some of what I saw. Even in the church, I was offended with the ways people spoke about and to African Americans. They were good people, but they were totally given over to cultural values in the South. So even though they said, “Love your neighbor,” there was an unspoken understanding that it meant “your white neighbor.” But for some reason I do not understand, I questioned the ways the culture was set up. I saw that Jesus certainly did that. So, it’s something I’ve just lived with all my life and worked with in one way or another. The issues of race and poverty pop out everywhere in the Scriptures. The people Jesus spent time with were the “no counts,” and this message was so powerful to me that I just couldn’t see how anyone could overlook that. What did you do before coming to Urban Recipe?

Chad Hale

Hale: While serving as an American Baptist pastor, I felt led to move into areas where there was poverty. When I moved to the Grant Park neighborhood of Atlanta in 1979, it was still an area that outsiders feared, because of poverty and crime. Out of Georgia Avenue Church, our food coopera-

Urban Recipe food co-ops at work—the children love getting in on the action.

What are the key components you can share with anyone wanting to start this type of co-op? Hale: The first goal is to create food security. Our sense is that if people have enough food, it frees them in many other areas. They are not worried at the end of the month if they’re going to have enough food for their children or grandchildren. Another piece of this program is creating dignity by charging a “membership” fee and contributing energy to help one another. There is no sense of “I’m getting a handout here.” It’s more “I am making a contribution.” This money can then go back into other programming aspects of our work. With food pantries, our members report that they often feel humiliated, have to wait in long lines, have no choice of food, and usually receive enough for only three days or less. However, when you create community, it makes a huge difference. When people are working together, there is a sense of ownership and dignity. And you can do programing that you wouldn’t be able to do if you just had people walking in and out. We’ve had demonstrations on how to do healthy cooking; we’ve had the Morehouse School of Medicine come and make presentations about how to deal with diabetic issues, basic nutrition, and so forth. We max out our food co-ops at 50 families, and we provide a ton of food to that

co-op every other week. Typically we divide the food into family-sized boxes for one to three people, four to seven people, and eight-plus. On average, the store value of a medium-sized box is over $100. So this ends up being a minimum of $2,500 worth of food for the year for each family. Our members have an average annual income of less than $12,000, so you can see that this keeps the electricity on, keeps kids in school, and so forth. Another thing is that we cannot use food to proselytize. We make it clear that we serve people in the name of Jesus, but we also make it very clear that we serve everyone with respect and care—regardless of who they are or what they believe. Still, a lot of people will call Georgia Avenue (the main site of the co-op) their church—even if they never come through the door on Sunday. You’ve dreamed some big dreams for your communities. What message do you have for the US church about dreaming for the future? Hale: The church is so captured by American values in the broad sense that I am very grateful I’ve been called to associate with people who are poor, because I need them. I think the middle and upper classes always think that poor people need us. But if you’ve ever been around people in need, you find people who

already have faith and who care for others in ways that we middle-class folks are very insulated from. So when you are in that milieu, dreams will arise. I always think about the parable that Jesus told about Lazarus and the rich man. Typically that parable is interpreted that the rich man (and his community) could not reach out to Lazarus because of greed, but I think, based upon the culture, it’s that he was being “holy.” After all, the rich man was “blessed of God,” and Lazarus was obviously a sinner because he was “sick and poor.” But Jesus didn’t come to keep us from becoming “unclean”—he calls us to do just the opposite—to get “dirty” and enter the suffering of others around us. What the rich man didn’t understand was that the poor man was actually his ticket to life. I feel like this is our situation, in a broader sense, as we buy more and more, as we stockpile our guns, and live out of fear. It pushes us away from the people we need the most and who also need us. If the rich man had gone out of his gated community, it would have created life for both of them. We cannot only be concerned with ourselves and our own homogenous group. But it’s work. It’s hard, and I don’t deny that. But that can’t make any of us stop dreaming about the beloved community and its many possibilities.

(Learn more at UrbanRecipe.org. Interview by Jen Carpenter)

The drinkable book Water Is Life has been working towards improving world water health and sanitation since 2007. You may have seen the video they created, using people from the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere, to put tweets from the popular #FirstWorldProblems in stark perspective. Founded by Ken Surritte, the organization works toward partnerships with people here in the United States and currently with people in villages in Haiti, Kenya, and Ghana. In addition to providing clean water, their main focus is on educating people on sanitation matters and working with local communities for sustainable change. One of their main filtration techniques has been a portable straw that automatically filters water while a person drinks through it and provides a month’s worth of clean water for one person.

In May, Water is Life, along with Dr. Theresa Dankovich and researchers from the University of Virginia, introduced the Drinkable Book. This "book" contain “pages” that, when removed and set into the plastic box that the book comes in, can filter water for up to 30 days, eliminating bacteria and rendering it to the safety equivalence of typical US tap water. Each “book” contains enough filters to provide up to four years of clean drinking water. What’s more, each “page”—or filter—contains sanitation information, printed in both English and Swahili, in standard food ink so that those who use these filters will also begin to understand and practice healthy sanitation. Production of the Drinkable Book is still in the works, but at just pennies a page, it is being touted as one of the cheapest and most effective forms of water sanitation. Dr. Dankovich took the book to South Africa last year and is continuing to test it in Ghana this fall. Learn more and see the book in action at WaterIsLife.com/media/ videos. - Jennifer Carpenter

“Family Is Most Important”

Helping prisoners and their loved ones stay connected Well over 2 million people are housed in our nation’s correctional system today. Although 2012 saw some of the highest rates of release, the recidivism rate for offenders is near 50 percent. How can the church respond to this alarming situation? We spoke with Fran Bolin, executive director of Assisting Families of Inmates (AFOI), based in Richmond, Va., to learn from their decades of experience working both with families of offenders and returning citizens. Tell us about the work of Assisting Families of Inmates. Fran Bolin: The AFOI mission is to prevent the breakdown of relationships among inmates and their families by providing regular and meaningful visitation, support, and education services. Our services help prepare families for a successful transition when the returning citizen is released from prison. AFOI was started in 1978 under the name Prison Visitation Project by a man named Tom Edmonds. Tom organized several downtown area churches, and members of those churches used their personal vehicles to drive family members out to “State Farm”—a group of prisons in Powhatan and Goochland, Va. As church volunteers took the family members out to the prisons, another group of volunteers remained at Second Presbyterian Church preparing a dinner for their return. When the families came back, they ate and had fellowship together. This ministry was incorporated in 1980 as the Prison Visitation Project. The ministry grew to the point that 15-passenger rental vans were driven by volunteer drivers. By the early ’90s, these volunteers were taking families to visit about 14 prisons. With that volume, more services—such as case management, referrals, and utility assistance—were needed. There was a true focus on helping the families of inmates as well as those imprisoned themselves. At that time, the name changed to Prison Family Support Services to better reflect the support services offered. Since 2001, the year I came, we’ve had a

contract with James River charter bus lines. The first three Saturdays of each month we go to four or five different prisons. We carry an average of about 100 people each Saturday. We still have volunteer organizations that come in and provide meals for families when they return to our site. In the early ’90s we started looking at technology and the needs of families who live very far from their inmates. After some research, AFOI provided the first successful technological visit between Virginia’s families and inmates housed at that time at a Texas detention center. Currently, we have video equipment set up at AFOI as well as at the prisons, and then video stations are set up in three other churches in Roanoke, Norfolk, and Alexandria. Thanks to our volunteers, we are currently serving 11—soon to be 12—prisons with video visitation. The busiest sites are in Norfolk and Alexandria, for families whose loved ones are at Red Onion and Keen Mountain State Prisons, which are a six- to seven-hour drive away. Have you seen any signs of positive change in the criminal justice system since starting this work? Bolin: I have seen that leaders in the Virginia Department of Corrections are turning their focus onto reentry. We cannot keep building prisons and holding people so long without considering how they might be effectively reintegrated into the community. Because the reality in Virginia is that upon release they’re given $25 and a bus ticket, and then they’re out on the street, it’s difficult for an ex-offender to get a job, to find an employer willing to take a chance on them. And if they haven’t taken any classes or gained skills while behind bars, they really don’t have a lot to fall back on except what got them incarcerated in the first place. We’ve joined with representatives from different departments to form local reentry coun-

cils to help returning citizens network. These councils are spread throughout Virginia and have been working really well. It’s finally starting to click that ex-offenders truly need help when they go home so that they don’t get stuck in a repeating pattern. It also helps the community at large. Unless we assist them in becoming successful members of the community, returning citizens may reoffend and become a potential costly threat within our community. What do you hope a family experiences with AFOI? Bolin: I hope they experience a sense of compassion that they might not get within the system. Our staff is constantly thinking about impacts and how we communicate with families and inmates. Sometimes those who work within the criminal justice system are so overloaded they simply can’t care for people the way they should. We help families navigate a difficult system. We often hear things like, “Thank you for making a way for us to see him or her and give them a hug.” Some people think that housing is the most important thing for the returning citizen. Some will say employment is the most important. But we say that family is most important—if you don’t have healthy people to connect with when you get home, what do you have? Where are you going to live? Who’s going to get you to your parole appointments? Who will take you to your job interviews? Family reintegration is the

most important element in cutting down recidivism rates. Can you share any stories that have particularly impacted you while working with AFOI? Bolin: We have families that travel on a Greyhound bus from as far away as New York or Florida, get off here in Richmond, and take an $8 taxi ride to get to our bus, which costs $12. That’s a lot of time and money. There was a retired lady on a fixed income, Eleanor, who flew up from Florida on a Friday to see her son. She had to pay for a hotel in downtown Richmond that night to be there for the Saturday morning bus, but she accidentally flew up on the wrong weekend, and we had no bus service that day. She was very upset and crying. So I thought, “You know, I’m just going to take her.” So I drove down to our headquarters and picked her up. It was three hours to the facility and three hours back after her visit. I really got to know Eleanor in those six hours, and I learned that her husband—her son’s father—had passed away while their son was incarcerated, so he hadn’t been able to say goodbye to his father. Hearing her story really drove home for me the importance of the family and how profound a mother’s love is! Not only did she need to see her son, but she knew he needed the encouragement. Even though she Family reintegration was retired and on a fixed income is the most important and at that point her son was in his element in cutting 50s and suffering with health issues, down recidivism rates. they were dealing with these issues together in spite of the distance. It really was a blessing to spend that time with her.

Church + Obedience = Hope

I am hopeful about the church, because of Jesus’ prayer in John 17: “Sanctify them in the truth; your word is truth. As you sent me into the world, so I have sent them into the world.” I see in this generation a commitment to both incarnation and obedience. We desire to both seek the peace and prosperity of those communities where God has placed us, but also to shed the cultural assumptions and baggage that can cloud how the church reflects the love and truth of Christ. This counter-cultural commitment— counter-cultural not for its own sake, but because we know we are to be conformed not by this world, but by the renewal of our minds—will present a beautiful witness to a world searching for hope.

Michael Wear (MichaelRWear.com) is a consultant/strategist who directed faith outreach for President Obama’s 2012 reelection campaign and worked in the White House Office of Faith-based and Neighborhood Partnerships.

What do you wish the church could understand about our nation’s citizens behind bars? Bolin: It very clearly says in the Bible that you should serve those in prison. By serving those in prison, you should also serve their families. We have one church base that donates funds and one that donates volunteers, and then one that donates stuffed animals for Christmas. Christians should donate whatever way they can—not just in money, but in time and in creative ways. There are so many ways that churches—especially groups of churches—can get involved to make a difference. The way that we started, as a group of just a handful of churches that really focused in on this one effort— if that could be mirrored in other communities, what a difference we could make!

(Learn more at AFOI.org. Interview by Jennifer Carpenter)

Church + Neighborhood Engagement = Hope

I am encouraged by the number of churches that are taking seriously their call to be a holistic community of God’s people, and not just a loose network of individual Christians or a spiritual filling station for Christian consumers. Groups like the Ekklesia Project (EkklesiaProject.org) are leading the way in helping churches cultivate practices of congregational formation—church members learning to have difficult conversations together in a culture where civil dialogue is a lost art and to be present to one another in an age of attention deficiency.

Neighborhoods are the other place where I see great hope. Many churches are discovering that place matters, and they are working to be engaged in their neighborhoods and to bear witness to Christ’s love and peace where they find themselves. The Parish Collective (ParishCollective.org) is helping churches be engaged more deeply in their places, connecting churches that are on a similar trajectory, and sharing stories of innovative neighborhood renewal. “When we share our stories, connections, and resources in and across parishes,” they observe, “it helps weave together neighborhood churches, missional communities, and any group of Christ-followers that desires renewal in their neighborhood. The members of these groups or Parish Initiatives develop postures and practices for becoming present in their neighborhood and participating in what the Spirit is up to there.” Many people talk about the effects of climate change or peak oil or other economic or ecological disasters that may or may not lurk on the horizon. Who knows how catastrophic these changes might be? Whatever happens, I think those churches that continue to doggedly pursue these shifts toward community and place will be well positioned to thrive amidst the realities of the next 50 to 100 years. And that gives me great hope.

C. Christopher Smith is the editor of The Englewood Review of Books, and co-author with John Pattision of Slow Church: Cultivating Community in the Patient Way of Jesus (InterVarsity Press, 2014).

Following Jesus in the public square. Alex Stonehill / The Seattle Globalist

PROTESTIMONY A Hunger Strike, Detention, and the Bread of Life

“I’m a citizen of a superpower. I was born among the conquerors. I live in the empire. But I want to read the Bible and think it’s talking to me. This is a problem.” - Brian Zahnd While we all live with a certain degree of pain and brokenness, the extent to which the gospel is good news for us is greatly affected by our level of comfort. My experience with those who live in conditions of material vulnerability is that they comprehend the Bible at a level that is inaccessible to me. Comfort, in this way, is the assassin of the gospel. We cannot understand the gospel’s power as good news unless we submit ourselves to communion with those who are vulnerable. It is only through sitting at their table that we can savor the bread of life1 in its fullness. This past May I was invited to just such

a communion by Ramón Mendoza, one of the leaders of the hunger strike that took place at the Northwest Detention Center (NWDC) in Tacoma, Wash., during March and April of this year. Ramón spent over 40 days fasting, 30 of which were in solitary confinement due to an unfair accusation of “incitation”—a charge that resulted from an “internal hearing” from which his lawyer was excluded. Two aspects about the NWDC will help you appreciate the depth of Ramón’s disempowerment. First, detention of migrants is administrative; it does not follow a specific charge or a trial, and it is indefinite,2 lasting from a couple

of the problems of our broken and cruel immigration system, they do not end detention of migrants. This practice is legally supported by Congress under the “bed mandate,” which stipulates that the Department of Human Services (DHS) “shall maintain a level of not less than 34,000 detention beds through September 30, 2014.”5 There is wide agreement within government agencies that the mandate is arbitrary; it does not follow actual detention needs, and that level of incarceration is vastly excessive.6 This mandate was introduced into the 2010 DHS appropriations bill by the late Senator Robert Byrd (DWV) without public comment, and the quota has increased each year since it was first introduced. Last year Congressmen Deutch and Foster introduced an amendment to repeal the bed mandate, but it failed to pass, despite wide support by the House and the

Fight the “Bed Mandate” In 2013 the Senate passed a bipartisan bill for comprehensive immigration reform. However, the bill was stopped in the House when Speaker Boehner refused to bring it up for a vote, despite bipartisan support. Now the president is considering providing immigration relief through executive actions, and advocates hope to have a chance for reform in 2015. While the Senate and House bills under consideration and executive actions would solve many

of months to several years. Second, detention centers are privately run by the GEO Group, a corporation that has lobbied aggressively to create the policies that lead to detention of immigrants and that provides the services on the other end. GEO made more than $1.5 billion in revenue in 2013, 16 percent of which comes from their contract with Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). Migrant detainees are subject to social isolation, poor medical care, excessive fees for phone calls and basic goods, and various means of retaliation as a response to reasonable complaints. After several months in detention, away

administration. Under the bed mandate, ICE is obliged to incarcerate migrants who do not pose a threat to public safety. As a consequence, families are torn apart. Parents, pregnant women, and children, many of them asylum seekers and victims of violence, are incarcerated indefinitely in privately run prisons that put a price tag on immigrants’ lives. Incarceration is excessively costly for taxpayers and profitable for corporations. ICE spends $160 a day per detainee, while alternatives to detention cost between $0.07 and $17 per day. The GEO Group, ICE’s contractor, has seen revenues triple since 2002. The bed mandate puts ICE in the position to contract with corporations like GEO, which have incurred human rights violations within their facilities7 and submit detainees to inhumane conditions.

Comfort is the assassin of the gospel. We cannot understand the gospel’s power as good news unless we submit ourselves to communion with those who are vulnerable. from his wife and three children and subject to abusive treatment, Ramón decided to fast to draw attention to the inhumane conditions of thousands of migrant detainees. Retaliation was quick to follow, and he spent 30 days in solitary confinement. I asked him what he did all day in the “hole.” “I read the Bible,” he responded. “Why the Bible?” I asked. “Because it resonated with what I was going through.” “What part?” “I read it all.” Ramón told me how he prayed each night to ask God the next step for the following day. Sometimes he felt like giving up, but he found encouragement from Scripture at key times in his journey. “By day 15, I was getting discouraged, not being able to communicate with anyone, and on top of that I wasn’t eating… One feels, well, despair, and I read the part where Jesus fasted for 40 days, and that invited me to say, ‘I have fasted for 15 days, and I am complaining—he pulled it off for 40!’ That helped me keep going. Another reading I remember from those 30 days is when Jesus was taken to be crucified. He never, never objected to what was being

done to him, and I was going through something similar in here, and that gave me peace… [the officers] do whatever they want with us, and unfortunately no one outside knows what happens in here… Those are but a few things that I realized by reading the Bible.” Despite GEO’s attempt to curtail the hunger strike by having medical staff misinform detainees about the health consequences of fasting and lying to the women by telling them that “99 percent of the men had resumed eating,”3 Ramón and his friends’ attempt to draw attention to their conditions was successful enough to have Rep. Adam Smith propose a bill to ensure accountability of immigration detention. We can only hope this bill will be passed and offer some relief to migrant detainees. But improving conditions does not make it right to deny someone’s freedom for administrative purposes. What we need are alternatives to detention. At the core of Ramón’s action, however, we do not find political activism, although the strike brought about hope for political change. What we find instead is a prophetic attitude of, in the words of Jacques Ellul, “the affirmation of a spiritual truth against the error of the moment.”4 The truth is that migrant detainees are created in God’s image and made free by Jesus’ restorative power. This is the good news—that

In May, Rep. Adam Smith introduced the Accountability in Immigration Detention Act (H.R.4620) as a response to the demands of the hunger strikers at the NWDC. This bill not only addresses the concerns of the detainees but also eliminates the bed quota with this statement: "The number of detention beds maintained shall be determined by the Secretary of Homeland Security and shall be based solely on detention needs.” Eliminating the bed mandate and expanding alternatives to detention remain crucial aspects of any immigration reform that wants to protect vulnerable immigrants from becoming an object for profit. To this end, the role of community members is crucial. Contacting our representatives to demand an end to the bed quota and a better use of taxpayer dollars through alternatives to detention will have a deep impact in protecting men and women like Ramón and their families.

no matter who wants to profit from their vulnerability, their humanity is defined by God’s love. “I refused to be an object,” Ramón told me. It is only through complete vulnerability that the good news becomes a matter of life and death, and as such this good news realizes its transformative power in the world. Once we have attempted to see the gospel the way the vulnerable see it, there is no turning back—I can no longer domesticate the Word of God. I am faced, instead, with that which is real and at the same time ungraspable. Further, it demands that I give up my own understanding of the world—namely, my cynicism, the safety of sociological theories of power and of social technique—and be left bewildered yet hopeful. Ramón is still detained. Yet in the darkness of detention, away from his family, he knows the Bible is speaking to him. (Editor’s note: endnotes for this article are posted at PRISMmagazine.org/endnotes.)

A native of Chile, Maria-José Soerens is a licensed mental health counselor who works with undocumented migrants and their families in Washington State. She is the founder of Puentes: Advocacy, Counseling & Education (PuentesSeattle.org) and currently teaches in the master’s in theological studies program at Centro de Estudios Teologicos Interdisicplinarios.

LEARN, PRAY, REACH OUT: EIGHT THINGS YOU CAN DO RIGHT NOW ON DETENTION: ① Call and/or visit your representatives, urging them to support the Accountability in Immigration Detention Bill. ② Follow the Detention Watch Network's Campaign at #endthequota. ③ Detention of migrants has become a problem on a global scale. Go to GlobalDetentionProject.org for more information. ④ Read the UNHCR’s Beyond Detention: A global strategy to support governments to end the detention of asylum-seekers and refugees, (UNHCR.org/53aa929f6.pdf). ⑤ Write letters to and/or visit detainees in your community. ON IMMIGRATION REFORM AND IMMIGRATION JUSTICE: ① Follow EvangelicalImmigrationTable.com for more information and updates. ② Lutheran Immigration and Refugee Services has released an Advocacy Guide for the August Recess: LIRS.org/august-congressional-recess-guide-2014/ ③ Follow #pray4reform.

The Fork in the Road

This is the story of a fork in the road. This is a moment in time when the journey reached a turning point. A choice had to be made, and a choice was made. Or, to be more accurate: a choice has to be made and therefore a choice is being made, because this story is still happening. The story comes from a single paragraph in Peter G. Heltzel’s book Jesus and Justice: Evangelicals, Race & American Politics (Yale University Press, 2009). This story is only five sentences long, and it concerns something seemingly minor—a single editorial decision

still had segregationist views. Pew and Bell did not want Christianity Today to speak out too critically against racism and capitalism, because they thought it would alienate important segments of the magazine’s constituency. To his credit, Henry did publish Gaebelein’s initial report from Selma, which ran in the magazine on April 9, 1965. Pew and Bell weren’t wrong— it did, indeed, alienate important segments of the magazine’s constituency. Gaebelein’s subsequent reporting was censored, so he took

approved by the wealthy oil man and the goslow segregationists. And, well, that’s not easy to admire. Still, we should be charitable. Henry was in a tough spot. A whole generation of white evangelical “leaders” have followed him in that very same tough spot, and very few of them have even tried, as he tried and failed, to do the right thing. Most of the people who have inherited his role of nominal leadership haven’t even had the courage to try to challenge the actual leadership of the moneymen and the guardians of white privilege. They’ve simply recognized—

When Gaebelein’s reporting was censored, he took off his reporter’s hat and joined the marchers, participating in demonstrations and voter registration drives. made by a single publication three years before I was born. But there’s also a sense in which these five sentences explain almost everything we need to know about the history of white evangelicalism in America over the past 50 years: In 1965 [Carl] Henry sent Frank E. Gaebelein to cover the march in Selma, Alabama. An associate editor of Christianity Today and the founder and headmaster of the Stony Brook School, New York, Gaebelein went to Selma and was so inspired that he wired Henry in Washington, DC, that evangelicals needed to join the march. But Gaebelein’s stories of the Selma march never saw the light of day. The resistance at Christianity Today was coming primarily from two people: J. Howard Pew, the Texas oil man and the financier of Christianity Today, and L. Nelson Bell, Billy Graham’s father-in-law and an editorial adviser at Christianity Today, who

off his reporter’s hat and joined the marchers, participating in further demonstrations and voter registration drives. But after that initial report, the magazine and most of the rest of white evangelicalism took the other fork in the road—the one preferred by the financier and the segregationist. Pew and Bell are dead and buried, but the financiers and the segregationists are still with us. Their heirs still steer the ship. Gaebelein has his heirs, too, but they’re fewer in number and they’ve never had much influence. What of Carl Henry, then? I want to admire him here. He seems to have wanted to do the right thing in this story, and he even started to try to do it. He was on the right side in his power struggle with the money and the racism, but when the right side turned out to be the losing side, he stayed on—preserving his job, his post, and his position of influence even when it turned out that influence could only be used in ways

accurately—that this was a power struggle they didn’t have the power to win. Alienate the moneymen or those other “segments of the constituency” and you’ll only wind up getting Gaebeleined. Easier just to play along the way that Henry’s heirs are, even now, at this very moment, playing along. And so here we still are, at that same fork in the road, perpetually facing that same choice. It’s almost like one of those time-loop stories from a sci-fi show or from David Ives’ comedic plays or Groundhog Day. Maybe we’re doomed to stay here, at this fork in the road, until we get it right. Maybe someday we will get it right. Maybe.

A former editor of PRISM, Fred Clark is a popular blogger (as Slacktivist) at Patheos.com. He describes himself, in part, as a Baptist Gen-Xer Mets fan.

Church + Race = Not Much Hope

Remembering Jim Brady (1940-2014) Gun Control Advocate A TRIBUTE BY DAN GROSS Jim never gave up fighting and never lost his trademark wit, despite suffering a traumatic brain injury after being shot in 1981 by a mentally unstable young man attempting to assassinate President Ronald Reagan. Since then, he and his wife, Sarah, have worked tirelessly to pass legislation that makes it harder for criminals and other dangerous people to buy guns. Because of Jim’s hard work and the policy that bears his name—the Brady Handgun Violence Prevention Act—an estimated 2 million gun sales to criminals, domestic abusers, and other dangerous people have been blocked. As a result, countless lives have been saved. In fact, there are few Americans in history who are as

CARRY ON JIM BRADY’S LEGACY BY PARTNERING WITH THE FOLLOWING ORGANIZATIONS: •Brady Campaign to Prevent Gun Violence (BradyCampaign.org)

directly responsible for saving as many lives as Jim. Known to many as “Bear,” Jim inspired millions with his strength, courage, perseverance, and legendary sense of humor. He was also a great personal inspiration to me and my family. When my brother suffered a traumatic brain injury after a shooting at the Empire State Building, Jim and Sarah demonstrated that it was possible to turn a terrible tragedy into real change and were a big part of the reason I chose to dedicate my own life to preventing gun violence. I am deeply proud to have called Jim Brady a friend. He will be missed dearly by everyone at our organization, which proudly bears his name, and by a nation that has been made better by his life. Jim will always remain one of our greatest inspirations as this organization continues to lead the fight for a safer America.

Dan Gross is president of the Brady Campaign to Prevent Gun Violence.

•Stop Handgun Violence (StopHandgunViolence.org) •Americans for Responsible Solutions (AmericansforResponsibleSolutions.org) •Every Town for Gun Safety (EveryTown.org)

When I look at the church today I am sad, hurt, angry, and confused. We say we want to be bold, to proclaim Christ’s love, grace, forgiveness, and truth to the world. We say the world needs Jesus. We say the church is open to all. But I’m beginning to think that when it comes down to it, we just want to be safe. I look at the church and I see too many of my black and brown sisters and brothers in deep pain. I see too many of my white sisters and brothers proclaiming a “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” gospel that I cannot find in my Bible. I see too many of my Asian American brothers and sisters nodding their heads in silent agreement as they chase the American dream. I see too many of my Native sisters and brothers pushed to the margins because that is where they were left to be forgotten generations ago. Red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in his sight, but today we seem so afraid to acknowledge that our histories are different, even if we believe in the same Jesus. Different isn’t wrong. Indifferent? Now that is wrong.

Kathy Khang serves as a regional multiethnic ministries director with InterVarsity Christian Fellowship (IVCF)/USA. She is one of the authors of More Than Serving Tea (InterVarsity Press, 2006). Learn more at blog, MoreThanServingTea. wordpress.com.

Church + the Cross = Hope My name is the church of the Middle East. Death is below me, above me, beside me, around me, and in me. I am doomed, bleeding, and I can see only a cross. One cross for me and for another abandoned man. I am one moment away from complete destruction. Nevertheless, to be crucified with him and for his sake is never the end. Christ is risen and I am waiting.

A Palestinian evangelical, Rev. Dr. Yohanna Katanacho serves as the Academic Dean of Bethlehem Bible College. He is the author of several books, including The Land of Christ: A Palestinian Cry (Wipf & Stock, 2013).

Rebuilding the Temple Upheaval and hope in the 21st-century church BY ANTHONY GRIMES

Behold, i am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?

Detail from Soliloquies—Joy by Makoto Fujimura

Isaiah 43:19 Since the dawn of the millennium, a new zeitgeist has emerged in American Christianity, characterized by both cultural upheaval and deep spiritual hunger. Seasons of change always involve the pain of letting go of the old and the thrill of embarking on uncharted paths. This season of ecclesiastical transformation is no different. In her book The Great Emergence, historian and theologian Phyllis Tickle borrows a metaphor from Anglican Bishop Mark Dryer, who observed a historical pattern that occurs every five centuries or so and that he likens to a rummage sale, when the “empowered structures of institutionalized Christianity, whatever they may be at that time, become an intolerable carapace that must be shattered in order that renewal and new growth may occur.”1 In other words, every once in a while the church outgrows her longstanding traditions and reimagines herself. Old artifacts of the faith, sacred ideas and practices that were once considered untouchable family heirlooms, are put to the curb. Based either on an intuition that society at large is rejecting traditional Judeo-Christian values or on data that show millennials leaving the traditional church in droves, most would agree that something of this sort is happening today. But ask Christians if this overhaul is reason for lament or celebration, and lines of deep division quickly form. I contend that this present upheaval, though filled with challenges of its own, is fundamentally good because of the alternative forms of Christian expression it has inspired and will continue to engender in the coming years. The revamped understandings of what it means to follow Jesus in a pluralistic, post-Christian context have the potential to deepen American faith and democracy in ways that will save both from obsolescence. We could speak in depth about what Western religion and culture must be saved from, but at the core of much of its malaise are two values that have guided it to both destruction and innovation: the traditional ideology of triumphalism and, to a lesser extent, the millennial obsession with technology in the great experiment known as “The Internet Age.” The church needs a resurgence of leaders—broken guides who are unshaken by paradox but committed to truth, who will bravely accept the God-imitating task of creating sense from the intimidating yet wondrous chaos of today, who will ensure that reaction against the old zeitgeist is defined by love and hope rather than adolescent protest and angst. DREAMS OF CONQUEST When Africans first saw the large vessels gliding toward the shores of their homeland, coming along the northern tip where the Senegal and Gambia Rivers spill into the Atlantic Ocean, they were witnessing a strange theology in motion. They saw the wide masts climbing high into the sky and the indecipherable characters carved onto the side of large ships, words they could read only after their freedom was consumed by them: Jesus, Gift of God, John the Baptist, Liberty. Hidden from plain sight was the perceived gift of blessing that fueled these ships as powerfully as the wind filled their sails. The men who sailed them—men like Christopher Columbus and Bartolomeu

Diaz—committed their crimes against humanity with the firm conviction that they were pleasing both God and nation. In his classic work, There Is a River, the late historian Vincent Harding writes that, while monarchs and trading companies funded these explorations, “popes, bishops, and professors provided the blessing and the rationale for their incursions into the lives and histories of other civilizations.”2 The perceived blessing of their God obscured the pathological hypocrisy of ships that bore the name of Jesus on the outside and the shackled bodies of black slaves within. The slaveholding God of the conquistadors was the logical conclusion of triumphalism: the “tendency in all strongly held worldviews … to present themselves as full and complete accounts of reality.”3 Canadian theologian Douglas John Hall observes that religious systems operating under this rule, Christianity included, demand absolute loyalty and leave little, if any, room for questioning. Any presence that threatens the master story must therefore be eliminated. Triumphalism, branded “Manifest Destiny” during the Western expansion of the Americas, was a guiding principle behind the brutal attempts to “civilize” Native American “savages” through the proliferation of boarding schools in the 19th century. This is evident in a letter from Captain Richard Pratt, one of the leading philosophical influencers of these schools, written in 1892: “We have not yet fully learned our lesson nor completed our work; nor will we have done so until there is throughout all of our communities the most unequivocal and complete acceptance of our own doctrines, both national and religious.” From this ideology, the motto “Kill the Indian, and save the man” was born. And if ever the man within the Indian was found to be beyond reach, both would have to die. Otherwise, the Native presence would surely kill the colonizers—whether their bodies or, at greater risk still, their worldview. Left unchallenged, Native reality would kill the colonizers’ account of reality. Most humans would just as soon wage war than relinquish their cherished worldview. The triumphant fusion of the Christian religion with white Western/ Northern imperialism is, quite possibly, as Hall observes, “The single most insidious cause of global peril.”4 Whereas Christians rarely explicitly kill in the name of Christ today, the church is still susceptible to endorsing nationalistic dreams of conquest that are subtly assumed to be blessed by God. These dreams are nightmares to those precious people who have been labeled “collateral damage” in their wake. BRINGING THE OUTSIDERS IN One of the most powerful aspects of today’s “Great Emergence” is the opportunity to invite a non-triumphant Christianity to the center of the faith, that we would be known by our sacrificial love rather than by our conquest. Indeed, if Western Christianity is to mine this opportunity for all its worth it must recognize oppressed people groups as essential knowledge-bearers from whom all must learn. They are essential because the church is returning to a place with which these groups are intimately familiar—a place of paradox and suffering, a place on the edges of mainstream acceptance. They are essential because the church is rediscovering a call that the oppressed have always borne—a call to redeem an empire that has at times sought to crush them. This call compelled Martin Luther King, Jr., along with the rest of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, to boldly claim that their mission was not merely to secure rights for black people but to “redeem the soul of America” (an astounding statement given the context). We have a biblical precedence for this in the ancient Israelites, a his-

Church + Frailty = Hope

torically rich and beleaguered people. If there is anyone who intuitively I see in the church today a fresh lives the life of ancient sense of brokenness and uncerJudaism through contemtainty, a people who remember porary lenses, it is the sothe hegemony of the past and the cially persecuted peoples power-broking position that Christiof the world: the incaranity recently held, as well as people cerated, the indigent, the who’ve never had the experience of immigrant, Native Ameristanding on that so-called higher cans, children in black ground. A generation ago we may ghettoes and foreign have called them the committed and the seekers. Not today. slums, women worldwide, Whether High Mass or house to name just a few. After church, I experience a living faith all, much like the ancient today that seems willing to remain Jews, we (I gladly join in in a place of brokenness, uncersolidarity here) know full tainty, and need. We have a renewed well the paradox of beinterest in ancient text from Torah ing a powerful force living to Apocrypha to Paul to Gospel beneath the thumb of an to Didache and St. Benedict. Our American empire. Liberaquestions and our desires to meet tion theology, though an God are more profound than ever. important framework, is Our frailty gives me hope. I think it’s godly. not what this is about. If liberation theology Jon M. Sweeney is an independent Catholic is about God’s work to scholar, the publisher at Paraclete Press, free the oppressed, this and a writer of popular history. His book The Pope Who Quit has been optioned new movement within the by HBO, and his latest book, When Saint church is about God’s Francis Saved the Church, is just out from spiritual positioning of Ave Maria Press. the oppressed to free us all. Years ago my wife and I were walking the piers of downtown Seattle when we saw a shirtless man wearing headphones over his swinging dreadlocks, sitting on a stool that faced the ocean. Passionately drumming an imaginary drum set, he caught my attention, and we walked over to strike up a conversation. He told us he was homeless and that local food banks and churches alike had rejected him. But he also spoke of miracles, like the times he could have been killed by his life on the streets, including one time when a giant pane of glass from a skyscraper fell on him as he slept. “I woke up in shock with glass all over me,” he said. “I patted myself down and checked for blood. There wasn’t even a scratch on me. God saved my life.” After a beat he asked me, “What are you trying to do with your life anyway?” “I want to be a pastor,” I told him. His tone switched abruptly from casual to prophetic. Leaning towards me and staring into my eyes with a grave intensity, he said, “Then you better decide what kind of pastor you wanna be. Most of these pastors out here ain’t about God at all. They’re about money and buildings. They ain’t for the people. You gotta decide who it is you serve, God or mammon. God or mammon, I said.” The very presence of the poor among us is a living parable that critiques our national gospel of materialism and unfettered ascent. As we open our ears to them and other marginalized people, we begin to see new layers of an alternate reality—the Kingdom of God—that operates under an

authority capable of transforming the world. IN SEARCH OF ROOTS In 2006 Time magazine’s “Person of the Year” issue featured a computer on the cover, with one word flashing on an otherwise blank screen: YOU. The magazine’s bold tribute to the millions of content generators who “control the Information Age” gave voice to the cultural excitement around the promises of technology. The positive effects of the internet have been astounding, but, as with any widespread acceptance of technological advances, it has also come with some unforeseen and staggering consequences. A slew of studies continue to show that our usage of devices like smart phones and apps like Facebook—particularly the way in which we allow them to splinter our attention—has increased our levels of unhappiness and loneliness.5 Clearly we control the Information Age less than we think. Far too often it controls us. The collective soul ache caused by this detachment—both from each other and from ourselves—in the disembodied tech world is prompting a growing number of young Americans to seek physical rootedness. Author and cultural commentator Andy Crouch notes that being connected to family, friends, and place matters more for young people today than it has for many decades. Despite booming population growth, travel and transport rates have remained virtually the same over the last 10 years, leading Crouch to observe that whereas the “20th-century American dream was to move out and move up, the 21st-century dream seems to be to put down deeper roots.”6 In 2010 urbanologist Richard Florida observed that, for young people, the question “Where do you live?” has replaced the previous generation’s question of “What do you do?”7 Crouch again: “This quest for local, embodied, physical presence may well be driven by the omnipresence of the virtual and a dawning awareness of the thinness of disembodied life.”8 It follows then that the Christian faith is also searching for embodiment both within cities, which are increasingly becoming the text by which people read the faith, and within the physical presence (whether symbolic or actual) of Christ celebrated in the Eucharist. THE POWER OF EMBODIMENT One Sunday morning, former journalist Sara Miles stumbled into a local cathedral as an atheist looking for a good story. She sat through the service and ended up taking Communion. As she took the bread and wine, two thoughts appeared in her mind simultaneously: “One was that I was eating regular bread ... and drinking disgusting, sticky wine. And the other was that God, who I didn’t believe in, was alive and was in my mouth.”9 She has since converted to Christianity and gone on to author a number of spiritual books, including Take This Bread: A Radical Conversion and City of God: Faith in the Streets. She is the founder and director of The Food Pantry, and serves as Director of Ministry at St. Gregory of Nyssa Episcopal Church in San Francisco. I asked Miles how Christian communities can respond to the cultural hunger for embodiment. “Most profound is the question of whether you trust the incarnation,” she said. “If the incarnation is real, then it means that God is not an idea— not your great idea or my great idea—but God is dwelling among us. “People are difficult to be with,” she continued. “Sometimes you just want to send somebody an email so you don’t have to talk to them, or text instead of being with them, but the incarnation means that God makes God’s

self known to us in the flesh. And it happens through Jesus Christ in a continual way—it’s not over.” Miles responds to that hunger, in part, by walking the streets of San Francisco’s Mission District, offering to apply Lenten ash in the shape of a cross to the forehead of strangers. This practice is an intimate reminder of our sinful mortality and of our need to repent and accept new life in Christ. THE GREAT INTERRUPTER Physician Gary Slutkin spent a decade in places like Uganda and Rwanda fighting contagious disease before returning to the United States for a muchneeded leave of absence. While on leave he became increasingly troubled by violence in major urban cities as well as the inadequacy of the threat of punishment as a deterrent. This led him to examine violence through the lens of epidemiology. One day, his team compared maps of violence in major cities to those of epidemics worldwide and found that the patterns of the two maps were nearly identical: Both violence and disease formed in clusters. He eventually realized that the “greatest predictor of a case of violence is a preceding case of violence.”10 In other words, violence spreads much like the flu. Slutkin’s controversial response was to treat violence like any contagious disease. He and his team tested the theory in Chicago’s West Garfield neighborhood by sending trained “interrupters” into the streets to disrupt immediate transmission of violence, prevent future spread, and shift the norms of culture. The same technique that slowed the AIDS epidemic in Uganda resulted in a 67 percent drop in homicides in West Garfield, all because a select group of people disrupted the common narrative of domination and retribution. Slutkin’s perspective should sound familiar to Christians, who believe that violence is, as indeed are all sorts of human pathologies, the symptom of the underlying disease of sin. God warned Adam not to eat from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, lest he “surely die.” But when Adam and Eve ate, murder quickly ensued; death entered human history; communion with God was replaced by a desire to be like God. From then on, humanity knew only one response to the violence perpetrated against its members: “An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.” Our hope lies in Jesus, the Great Interrupter, who stepped onto the stage of human history to give us all a drastically different narrative to imitate: “You have heard that it was said, ‘Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.’ But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also.” Societies have always carefully erected boundaries around those whom they deem worthy of love, but Jesus shatters those boundaries: “You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.” REVOLUTIONARY LOVE Jesus gave eternal gravitas to his own words when, from the cross, he spoke forgiveness to the very people who nailed him there. His cure ultimately heals the disease of a death that is far more pervasive, adaptive, and contagious than anyone could imagine. It also provides the power to make his new ethic of love possible. A staggering new Story toppled the universe and altered the course of human history: Love your neighbor. But wait—there’s more. Love your enemy, too. I asked Sara Miles what gives her hope for the church, in light of all the violence it has both perpetrated and condoned over the past five centuries.

“We belong to a tradition that has a great deal of ugliness associated with it,” she told me. “In the name of God, the church has done terrible things. But I think that, in the name of God, the church has also kept this thing alive. And the thing at the core of it we’re not actually able to kill, because the thing at the core of it is Jesus who lives.” Since Christ’s resurrection, a steady remnant of Christians have chosen the way of love over triumph, and most of them remain unnamed in history books. But some of these holy agitators have higher profiles, capturing the world’s attention and inspiring Jesus followers around the world. Pope Francis is one such person. His popularity lies in part in his charisma and ability to make deep connections with a wide variety of people. But in a deeper sense, he is admired for his posture of humility, so rare in a person with his degree of authority. How potent was the image of Pope Francis washing the feet of disabled people or embracing without hesitation two agonizingly disfigured men. When asked if he “approved of homosexuality,” Pope Francis replied: “Tell me, when God looks at a gay person, does he endorse the existence of this person, or reject and condemn this person? We must always consider the person.”11 Pope Francis is not changing Catholic doctrine, but he is speaking about it in a new way—a way that makes it appear new. This suggests that it is not the tenets of the faith that need changing, but rather the way in which Christians live out and speak about their faith with others.

Church + Integrated Faith = Hope

OF OLD AND NEW WINESKINS The new zeitgeist is not about junking everything we’ve ever done as a church and starting fresh but about reexamining beliefs and expressions of faith in order to make sure we are living authentically rather than habitually. When Jesus cautioned his listeners not to put new wine in old wineskins, he was urging them not to get stuck in old rituals—not because the old ways were bad in and of themselves, but because the people performing the rituals (i.e. fasting, keeping the Sabbath) had lost connection with their

I think young people are asking great questions of the church, and those questions are pushing the church to think critically about what we believe and how we worship, but most importantly how we are to live as God’s people. I see—not just in young people but across ages and denominations—a real desire to live integrated lives with faith as a meaningful, centering heartbeat. People are thinking about how what they eat and what they buy have to do with their faith. They see global issues like poverty and ecological crises and social injustice, and they want to respond—and change things. If we can listen and heed these voices, the church has a bright future indeed. Danielle Shroyer is a writer, speaker, and ordained pastor who addresses issues of theology, culture, church leadership, and emerging communities of faith. The author of The BoundaryBreaking God, she is part of Journey Church in Dallas, Tex.

original purpose. They had forgotten, for example, that “the Sabbath was made for humankind, and not humankind for the Sabbath,” and were more focused on the form than on the content of their faith. Often those who are most wary of seeing the church shift are those who base their security on old forms rather than on the constantly moving, continually renewing Spirit of God. The “former things have taken place,” God announces, “and new things I declare; before they spring into being I announce them to you” (Isa. 42:9). “From now on I will tell you of new things, of hidden things unknown to you” (Isa. 48:6). As Miles put it, “It’s a matter of integrating the richness of our tradition and finding ways to broaden it so it’s not just this narrow, little band of people saying, ‘This is what Christianity is.’” This is why it is so important to incorporate the voices of the marginalized—the poor, the minority, the oppressed—and the Bible is full of these

Church + holy spirit = Hope Not since the day of Pentecost itself and the months immediately following it, have so many Christians so openly and corporately sought the Spirit, engaged the Spirit, laid claim to personal intimacy with the Spirit. We are, in a most dramatic way, moving at last toward a complete and working experience of the Trinity, individually and as the Church at large. And for the hope borne in that, thanks be to God. Phyllis Tickle is an authority on religion in America and the author of over three dozen books, the latest of which is The Age of the Spirit: How the Ghost of an Ancient Controversy Is Shaping the Church.

Church + community = Hope People who choose to be steadfast and to fight for biblical community even in the midst of human brokenness and suffering give me great hope. When I look at the church today, I see men and women, young people and old, courageously continuing to “remain” (John 15:4) as invested members of the body of Christ, even when the community of the church fails to live up to the standards of the kingdom of God. The church often fails, but nonetheless, Christ’s love continues to break forth in the lives and ministries of faithful believers. Hope remains as humanity cries out and waits in eager anticipation for this broken world to be redeemed and one day fully restored. Mae Elise Cannon is senior director of advocacy and outreach for World Vision USA and the author of Social Justice Handbook and Just Spirituality (both from InterVarsity Press) and co-author of this year’s Forgive Us: Confessions of a Compromised Faith (Zondervan).

stories. “You hear all the time through the gospels that God’s Word appears through the unlikeliest people,” said Miles, “so you have to keep your eyes open. You could be a Hebrew slave trying to escape because you killed someone, like Moses; you could be a sheepherder, like David; or a baby boy whose mom has a bad reputation, like Jesus. “The point is not that there is something intrinsically different or special about any one group of people,” continued Miles. “It’s that if you only look where the dominant culture tells you to look, then you’re only seeing a tiny bit of the picture, because God is looking at all of God’s people.” Father Gregory Boyle is a Jesuit Priest who founded Homeboy Ministries to address gang violence in Los Angeles. He has experienced firsthand the value of learning from and giving a voice to those on the margins of society. “What Jesus fundamentally challenged was the purity code of first-century Palestine,” Father Boyle told me. “For them, holiness was about being away from lepers, but Jesus challenged the purity code, saying, ‘It’s about inclusion.’ And that’s always going to be the mark of Christianity and the church. If it’s inclusive, then it’s always from God; if it’s exclusive, it’s not of God. Because [excluding] is fear-based. The opposite of love is not hate but fear.” Truth sometimes requires the church to draw lines in the sand, but love requires her not to erect walls. THE WAY FORWARD There is much solace in knowing that Jesus is responsible for the ultimate well-being of his church. As the old-timers would sometimes say, “Some things ain’t up to you!” Our primary responsibility during this shift in zeitgeist, and indeed the key to our journey, is to cling closely to God and to each other, and never let fear conquer our hearts. Tickle warns in The Great Emergence that one of the greatest dangers during this time for the North American church is that “some of her Christians, of whatever stripe, may cease to honor and accept the necessary function of all her Christians.” The way forward for a church facing increasing marginalization, and even persecution, is not one of grasping for the final vestiges of cultural authority but one of open-handed humility. We must challenge the gods of this age without being remade in their image. Practically, this means confessing areas of inadequacy, confusion, and even doubt when appropriate. It means authentically delving into our own questions, especially when they threaten our superficial existence within the comforts of dogma. It means holding firmly to truth while humbly acknowledging that as fallible individuals we will sometimes get it wrong. It means partnering across traditional lines of faith and political orientation in order to seize (and make) opportunities to serve the common good. Most of all, it means finding our security in Jesus, who empowers and anchors our hearts despite the shifting of the times. (Editor’s note: endnotes for this article are posted at PRISMmagazine.org/ endnotes.)

Anthony Grimes is the CEO and founder of Urbanmuse Media, as well as the founder of the Park Hill Parish, a start-up organization focused on organizing collective impact and building beloved community in Denver, Colo. He lives with his wife and two kids in Park Hill, the neighborhood in Denver in which he was raised.

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Church + [x] = Hope

We asked dozens of Jesus followers the question “When you look at the church today, what gives you the most hope?” Here’s how they answered. How would you? Church + Mission Integral = Hope

Immigrant churches fueled by reverse missionaries from the Global South are often vital and vibrant. Although they may not have a developed theology around justice, they have a natural affinity for mission integral, or holistic mission. When a trusted leader teaches the call to heal and transform communities, I have consistently seen them respond with energy, joy, and disciplined discipleship. An example: Most of the members of Peruvian Pastor Cesar Arroyo’s ELCA church in the Los Angeles area do not have legal immigration status. After hearing about a Guatemalan family facing deportation because their asylum case had been rejected due to a missed appointment, the church decided to give that family temporary sanctuary while they fought for justice. They then heard that the Minutemen (vigilantes against undocumented immigrants) were going to hold a demonstration outside the church during Sunday services. The pastor told the congregation that they did not have to attend services if they were frightened or traumatized by the presence of the Minutemen. Members of other churches decided to attend instead, along with the Lutheran bishop, to show their support. To everyone’s surprise, almost all of the congregation came to church that day. After services, they led a procession around the church singing hymns, stopped in front of the Minutemen, and prayed for them. (The bishop also joined in the prayer.) The Minutemen did not know how to respond. As the procession wound around and entered back into the church, Pastor Arroyo turned to the Minutemen and said, “God Bless America, brothers!” The Minutemen, confused and disoriented, responded, “God Bless America!” A cynical reporter with Univision was floored. He told me, “In all of my years on the immigration beat, I have never seen anything like this. You all are going to make me a Christian.”

Rev. Alexia Salvatierra is the coauthor of Faith-Rooted Organizing: Mobilizing the Church in Service to the World (Intervarsity Press, 2013) and a Lutheran pastor with over 35 years of experience in community development and legislative advocacy.

Alexia Salvatierra

Church + Light = Hope

The reason I have great hope for the church is that in the midst of the darkest times the church shines the brightest light. My father, David Wilkerson, challenged me and everyone around him to believe that Christ loves to do his greatest work in places and situations where people believe things are too far-gone or too impossible to change. That’s why he began working with gangs. That’s why he started Teen Challenge and a thriving church in the heart of New York City. He believed—and I do as well—that the church is the greatest hope for our city, our youth, and a culture gone mad. Christ is most honored when the people of God act as if they truly believe that he can make a difference rather than sitting on the sidelines bemoaning the difficulties of society.

Gary Wilkerson is president of World Challenge and pastor of The Springs Church in Colorado Springs, Co. He writes about his father, evangelist and Teen Challenge founder, in his just-released book, David Wilkerson: The Cross, the Switchblade, and the Man Who Believed (Zondervan).

Church + Women Leaders = Hope

When I look at the church today, there are a few things that are bringing me hope. The first is that there are more and more women emerging as leaders in different contexts, using their voices and sharing their gifts despite the obstacles. In the past 10 years of pastoring, I have seen more women at the table, more women leading ministries, more women on teams than ever before. We still have a long way to go and so many structures and systems are still far too imbalanced to only men, but it does give me so much hope to see some churches and ministries really making an effort in this way. These women are so passionate about the kingdom of God, but it’s often underground, out of the spotlight of traditional power. When I look at our city now and ask, “Where is there action happening in terms of kingdom connections and life and justice and compassion?” I come up with a long list of women who are out there doing amazing work that is often unknown on the outside but inside is having a huge impact on people. The other thing is that I see more focus on practice rather than

Kathy Escobar

Gary Wilkerson

Al Tizon

Grace Biskie

knowledge. There’s a desire to put our faith into action and get out of the pews and actually live it out in a tangible way. I continue to hear more stories of people trading “going to church” in the traditional sense for actually “being the church,” and that gives me a lot of hope for our future.

Kathy Escobar co-pastors The Refuge, a mission center and Christian community in North Denver. Her books include Down We Go: Living into the Wild Ways of Jesus and Faith Shift: Finding Your Way Forward When Everything You Believe is Coming Apart.

Church + Discipleship = Hope

What gives me hope when I consider the church? Churches that love God in creative worship; churches that acknowledge people’s brokenness; churches that are as committed to grace as they are to truth; churches that have rediscovered their identity in, and are reenergized by, God’s mission; churches that engage in holistic ministry—evangelism, compassion/justice, and reconciliation; churches that celebrate racial, ethnic, and cultural diversity; churches that strive to practice God’s unconditional love in a polarized world. What I’m describing are churches whose people strive to be disciples of Jesus Christ in a lost and broken world. What gives me hope is not necessarily newfangled, hip forms of church, but churches that desire to embody Christ in genuine discipleship, no matter what form that takes. The author of the award-winning Missional Preaching: Engage, Embrace, Transform, Al Tizon is Ronald J. Sider Associate Professor of Holistic Ministry at Palmer Theological Seminary of Eastern University, co-president of ESA, and co-director of the Sider Center for Ministry and Public Policy.

Church + Radical Movements = Hope

My hope comes from two places. The first is in established churches like our local St Andrews’ Episcopal church, because it is passionate about issues of social justice and environmental concerns. Its organic garden provides food for the monthly Jubilee dinner for the homeless. And a recent capital campaign focused not on expanding the building but on digging wells in Uganda. The second is in radical movements led by (and spreading amongst) young people who care deeply about both God and our world. I’m thinking of three in particular. The Parish Collective (ParishCollective.org) offers deep support to local churches and faith-based groups that are rooting in neighborhoods and linking across cities for parish renewal. The Overflow Project (OverflowProject.org) brings water to communities in Africa and hosts an annual 50-day challenge starting at Easter that calls people to simplify, give, and change. The HUB (ImpactHubSeattle.com) believes that entrepreneurship is one of the keys to a better world and works to inspire and accelerate entrepreneurs towards building the future we want to live in.

Christine Sine

Christian Piatt

Christine Sine co-founded (with her husband, Tom) Mustard Seed Associates (MSAinfo.US), a network of followers of Jesus that seeks to unleash the creative potential of Jesus followers. She conducts seminars on sustainability, simplicity, spirituality, and gardening.

Church + Endurance = Hope

It may sound funny, but I find hope in the fact that the gospel of Jesus has endured this long, despite our involvement! Rather than fearing the changes taking place in Christianity today, we should welcome it as a sort of refiner’s fire, as Paul does. What will be burned away may actually need to go in order to make room for new life and to help free us from the things that have distracted us from the real business of living more by the example of Jesus in the world. We’ve mistakenly assumed, since church has been such a permanent fixture in our culture for so long, that we can’t do without it if we want to be the body of Christ. But to paraphrase the TV show Halt and Catch Fire, church isn’t the thing—it’s the thing that gets us to the thing. If the gospel that we all claim and long to follow has endured this long, do we honestly believe that closing churches and declining worship numbers is enough to extinguish it? Of course not. In fact, in some ways, we’ve become our own stumbling blocks, getting caught up in preserving dying ways and institutional systems, when Jesus is clear about what we’re to do if we want to experience the kind of life he wants for us: Set it all down and follow.

Christian Piatt is an author, speaker, musician, and spoken-word artist. He cofounded Milagro Christian Church in Pueblo, Colo., with his wife, Rev. Amy Piatt, in 2004. His latest book is Post Christian: What’s Left? Can We Fix It? Do We Care? (just out from Jericho Books).

Church + Most Vulnerable = Hope

I’m sitting on a double-decker, red-eye Megabus, Nashville bound, nonstop from Chicago. My friend bought me a ticket so I can join her at a retreat she created for Christian women ministering in various capacities. She said the Lord told her I should be there. Good enough for me. The bus departs at midnight. At first there’s a lot of chatter, and then laughter over one woman’s giant church hat, which she’d carefully wrapped in a white garbage bag and placed on top of the hefty pile of carry-ons. After a little while, gospel music fills the lowest cabin while sleep descends. All night, the sounds of God’s truth and human longing pour into my weary brain. He is a shelter. He is a shelter. The bus patrons are made up entirely of African Americans. Eventually we talk about the atrocities in Ferguson, Mo. “Lord Jesus,” someone says. “Father God,” says another. What gives me hope about the church? That it persists in days like these amongst the most hated and vulnerable of the country in which I live. That the deep cries for the Father God to heal and restore all

things to shalom scream out from the rocks all night long in a two-story Nashville-bound Megabus. God’s church will not be hidden from the least of these. That’s what gives me hope.

Grace Biskie (GraceSandra.com) writes and serves as a community activist, speaker and advocate. She’s the author of two Converge Bible Studies from Abingdon Press: Kingdom Building and The Cries of the Poor, and is working on a full-length memoir called Detroit’s Daughter.

Church + Justice & Unity = Hope

Recently there has been a lot of talk about how the church is facing its death. Declining attendance, scandals, and culture wars are continually emerging, signaling the imminent end of the church. But in the midst of all of this chaos a small but growing reformation is occurring that is revolutionizing the way Christianity is expressed in the world. In a day where individual churches and denominations are facing loss of membership and a seemingly endless stream of conflicts, many Christians are joining together and setting aside all of the things that once divided us—race, age, gender, denomination, sexual orientation—and are converging to recreate the body of Christ in our communities and world. There is a resurgence of interest in the person and teachings of Jesus—beyond traditional Christianity with its complex doctrines, traditions, and dogmas—which is resulting in believers refocusing on what matters most, namely, doing justice, acting with loving kindness, and walking humbly with our God. Communities of faith are becoming places where people from all walks of life can come together to learn from and encourage one another and then go out into their cities to renew the world. If there is anything that gives me hope about the church, it is this: God’s Spirit is doing a new work in our day. He is gathering his people and forcing us to set aside all those things that once divided us. He is stripping us of our privilege in society. And he is empowering us to be the subversive agents of the kingdom everywhere and to everyone we encounter. There is a future for the church, and I believe that this is it.

Brandan Robertson is founder of The Revangelical Movement, which seeks to renew the church, reconcile those who are divided, and reimagine a better world for the glory of God and the good of all people. He blogs at Patheos.com. Learn more at BrandanRobertson.com.

Church + Unsung Heroes = Hope

If I am intentional about holding space for the stories of pain and despair and wounding, I am also intentional about holding space for the hope and the victory. I have hope first of all because of, well, Jesus. Everything always comes back to him, because I believe in the redemptive movement of God, moving the story of humanity further into God’s purposes and heart for us, one story at a time. Because I have faith in the soon-coming King, be-

cause I believe we know how the story ends—all things restored, all tears wiped from our eyes, love wins—and because of the millions of places where heaven is already breaking through on earth. I have hope because I believe in the power of the grassroots, because I believe in the little ones and the little ways. And perhaps most of all, I have hope because of the hundreds of unnamed and unnoticed and uncelebrated disciples who simply get on with it. Far away from the blogging and the slick websites and the fancy microphones, they are engaged in the reality of living out the hope of glory in their real, right-now lives in the trenches. The ones who are serving their communities, teaching kids to read, taking meals to the elderly and sick, inviting immigrants to share their Thanksgiving table. The ones who are leading Bible studies in prisons and praying for the sick and rescuing girls from brothels in Thailand and passing Kleenex across the kitchen table. “Do you see what this means—all these pioneers who blazed the way, all these veterans cheering us on? It means we’d better get on with it. Strip down, start running—and never quit! No extra spiritual fat, no parasitic sins. Keep your eyes on Jesus, who both began and finished this race we’re in. Study how he did it. Because he never lost sight of where he was headed—that exhilarating finish in and with God—he could put up with anything along the way: cross, shame, whatever. And now he’s there, in the place of honor, right alongside God. When you find yourselves flagging in your faith, go over that story again, item by item, that long litany of hostility he plowed through. That will shoot adrenaline into your souls!” (Heb.12:1-3, The Message).

Sarah Bessey is a writer, a speaker, and award-winning blogger (SarahBessey.com). She is the author of Jesus Feminist (Howard Books, 2013) and lives in British Columbia, Canada, with her husband and their three tinies.

Church + Youth & Unity = Hope

I see young people who are committed to Jesus and to living the life of faith, concretely in the everyday realities of political and social struggle. A new kind of orthodox Christian is rising up, one who joyously recites the creeds, sings the hymns of the church, and marches against injustice, protests against environmental abuse, and embraces people in the full range of their diversity. These are young people who love and respect their elders but refuse to embody their segregationist ways. These are young women who do not think feminist is a word foreign to faith and who are ready to build up the faithful by leading congregations. These are young men who reject narrow, Mad Men masculinity and refuse to be defined by how they gain and exercise power. I see these young people in my classroom. I see them in the colleges, universities, and seminaries I visit. I see them especially here in North Carolina as we march in protest against our extremist state government. Here I walk alongside them, sing and shout beside them, listen to their testimonies, watch their faith in action. I see them, African American Brandan Robertson

Sarah Bessey

Willie James Jennings

Jon Weece

Robyn Afrik

Ken Pettigrew

women and men who are following the legacies of their civil rights mothers and fathers and who are holding the line against injustice, willing to place their bodies in trouble spaces for the sake of Jesus. I see them, Anglo American women and men who will not turn back from embracing their sisters and brothers of color and who announce by their lives that whiteness will not define them or determine how they will live but only a Savior who calls them to a new path of life together. I see it in the growing number of interracial young people who live neither/nor (neither white nor black) but both in the name of Jesus and who are demanding a church that embodies the true freedom of the gospel. I see something else. I see churches, now of small and shrinking numbers, now of gray and graying heads who are becoming worried about their future and desperate in the present, so desperate that they may be willing finally to yield to the Spirit and trust their future to these very young people I see. I see churches that may finally be ready to allow that young woman, filled with the Holy Spirit and power, to lead them. I see churches that may finally be ready to give up the comfort of homogeneity, of a sameness that speaks death and not the life of the gospel. I see churches that may finally be ready to become the multitude, to become places where peoples of many languages and cultural worlds weave together a common life that can never be common but always requires the intoxicating efforts of listening and learning together. This is what gives me hope.

Willie James Jennings is associate professor of theology and black church studies at Duke Divinity School in Durham, NC. An ordained Baptist minister, he researches liberation theologies, cultural identities, and anthropology.

Church + Maturity in Christ = Hope

Honestly, when I look at the church today, it’s incredibly hard for me to be hopeful about her. Especially when all the noise points to the fighting, the arguments, and ongoing hurts that continuously come out of the church—whether it’s regarding same-sex marriages, racial divides, gender roles, politics, saying too much of the right thing at the wrong time or saying nothing at all, especially when lives all around us are being lost. But to be honest, I don’t think we are meant to find hope by looking at the church. I think the better question is whose eyes am I looking through? If I want to view the church the way she was meant to be, I must look through eyes of faith—to see what is there but also what is not yet there. I can’t do this without reconciling my own “self” to the likeness of Christ in all ways. Only by maturing in Christ can I see the hope he sees in me even as I fail him daily. Even as the arguments and the disappointments and the negativity work themselves out. I don’t have hope in the church, but I have hope in the process God uses to reconcile us and the church to the likeness of Christ. I’ve been told by a great mentor that heaven is always attracted to the Jesus in us. If we can’t see heaven in the church then we have a lot more maturing to do. Robyn Afrik (@afrikadvantage) is founder of Afrik Advantage, special-

Craig Wong

izing in helping businesses and institutions become more multicultural. As a Korean adoptee married to a West African and raising three biracial children in Holland, Mich., she works to build a more inclusive community wherever she goes.

Church + the Lord's Table = Hope

When I look at the church today, what gives me hope is a renewed emphasis on the centrality of the Lord’s Table in worship. Our culture is fragmented by racial, economic, gender, and sexual injustice, and the table is proving to be a place of healing and reconciliation in our churches and communities. At the table we are finding grace in the midst of doctrinal and identity crises, for we find in the broken body and shed blood of Christ little pieces of ourselves. Week by week, we forcibly acknowledge the frailty of human life, as exemplified in the ministry and sacrifice of our Savior and are moved to remember Christ’s mission and call to bring good news to the poor, proclaim release to the captives, and let the oppressed go free (Luke 4:18). It stands as a radical reminder that even in our abundance and privilege, we still cannot manage to take ownership of it. It is a place for the poor, the captives, the oppressed, and even for those of us who seem to have it all together. This abundance of grace and welcome is what is transforming us from worshiping persons into a worshiping and serving people. It is the Lord’s work at the table, and it is marvelous in our eyes.

Ken Pettigrew serves as an associate minister at St. John CME Church and is completing a Master of Divinity at the Wake Forest University School of Divinity, seeking ordination in the Christian Methodist Episcopal Church. He blogs at KAPettigrew.com.

Church + Humility = Hope

I’m seeing, over the past 15 years, a growing embrace of humility, not only as virtue but also as paramount to recovery of the American church’s reason to exist. While probably short of an awakening or revival, there have been important pockets of resistance (if only because of weariness) to “relevance” or “impact” as gospel-worthy aims. Perhaps connected to our government’s recent nation-building failures, there has been growing confession of our deeply embedded, messianic instincts that subvert our dependence on the crucified Christ. Ecclesiological curiosity, an admission that we’ve much to learn about being church, is a sign of hope. With willingness to be beginners once again, we just might see our usefulness in the Potter’s hands be graciously restored.

Craig Wong is the “minister at-large” for Grace Fellowship Community Church in San Francisco.

Church + Loving "the Least" = Hope

Our job description as followers of Jesus is to wash dirty feet. At the church where I serve, people see footwashing as a privilege—we don’t have to wash dirty feet, we get to wash dirty feet! We come to church one day a week so that we can be the church the other six

Stephanie Summers

Eugene Cho

days of the week. I love having a front-row seat at the lavish parties we throw for thousands of mentally and physically challenged adults in our community. I love seeing Jesus smile as we lead women out of the exotic dance industry, care for the uninsured through our free health clinics, and pack millions of meals for the hungry of Haiti. I love hearing the Father hoot and holler as we provide job training for homeless men and women and give thousands of dollars away each week to strangers in need with no strings attached. When the words of Jesus to love “the least” become the most important words in your head and heart, you will never lack hope…ever.

Jon Weece (JonWeece.com) is the senior pastor and lead follower of Southland Christian Church, a Restoration Movement church in Lexington, Ky. His first book, Jesus Prom: Life Gets Fun When You Love People Like God Does, is just out from Thomas Nelson.

Church + the Whole Gospel = Hope

This is a difficult question to answer, because it's hard to identify a single thing that gives me hope. But my answer to what I'm most hopeful about is also what I believe the church needs to hear the most: the whole gospel. It’s the reason we exist. We need to be a church where everything we do is in response to the gospel of Christ. And by the gospel, I’m not just suggesting that we earn our ticket to heaven. The gospel is so amazing and magnificent that it does give us the gift of salvation and reconciles us to God through Christ. But the gospel also ushers forth the kingdom of God that was demonstrated by Jesus Christ. That’s the gospel that we need to be a part of and be about. May we be about the gospel, and may everything that we do be in response to the gospel of Christ.

Eugene Cho is is the founder and senior pastor of Quest Church in Seattle, Wash., and the founder of One Day's Wages (OneDaysWages.org), a grassroots to alleviate extreme global poverty. His new book is Overrated: Are We More In Love with the Idea of Changing the World Than Actually Changing the World? (just out from David C. Cook).

Church + Holistic Gospel = Hope

I am most hopeful in those circumstances that continue to reveal that there is the potential for the church to be a powerful witness to a holistic gospel, even though there are many who have become disillusioned with political forms of engagement in the last decade. A hunger remains for a holistic expression of the gospel, and that tells me that there are Christians across the generations who are willing to grow in the way that they understand and practice a living faith that can impact the culture.

Vincent Bacote

John M. Perkins

Vincent Bacote is an associate professor of theology and the director of the Center for Applied Christian Ethics at Wheaton College in Wheaton, Ill. He is the author of The Spirit in Public Theology: Appropriating the Legacy of Abraham Kuyper.

Church + Good Leadership = Hope

I am hopeful about the quality of people God is raising up. God has given the church the responsibility to wait on God for wisdom about God’s purposes, and the responsibility to act in light of that wisdom. I am quite hopeful about the type of leadership that God’s people are looking to embrace in our thoroughly diverse society. The desire on the part of God’s people to recognize their responsibilities not only as members of the global church but also as citizens in shared political communities with a focus on justice for all people and institutions gives me hope. This requires an incredible amount of discernment and an ability to be people who are capable of sustaining study and taking actions that are deeply nuanced, because what a life of holiness among believers must look like does not always directly translate to figuring out how we live together in a pluralistic society.

Stephanie Summers is the CEO of the Center for Public Justice, an independent, nonpartisan civic education and public policy organization based in Washington, DC, and is the publisher of the online journals Capital Commentary and Shared Justice.

Church + Diversity = Hope

The people are getting together and looking at the gospel afresh with a keen awareness of its redemptive purpose. They are drawing this from a holistic perspective and God's power to reconcile us across ethnic barriers to deal with the great race issue from a biblical perspective. And this church is about to see the light as it relates to diversity in the church. My hope comes from the recognition of the gospel and a new acknowledgment that humans were created in the image of God. We are beginning to see diversity as a gift and value, and that is beginning to be reflected in the church.

John M. Perkins is cofounder of the Christian Community Development Association and director of the John M. Perkins Foundation for Reconciliation and Development in Jackson, Miss. He is the author of many books, including Let Justice Roll Down, named by Christianity Today as one of the top 50 books that have shaped evangelicals.

Soup and Solidarity at the Lord’s Supper St. Lydia’s Dinner Church revives an ancient tradition by Landon Eckhardt | photographs by Margaret McGhee

When my wife and I heard about a church in New York City that was taking a distinctly creative approach to corporate worship, we were eager to experience it for ourselves. So on a Sunday evening in June we hopped on the A train from our Washington Heights neighborhood in Manhattan and headed down to St. Lydia’s Dinner Church in Brooklyn’s Park Slope. St. Lydia’s Dinner Church is the result of two friends’ growing dissatisfaction with the traditional church’s inability to reach people, primarily those on the margins of society who don’t easily find acceptance in mainstream ecclesial circles. After living in New York City for several years and hanging out with people from all walks of life, Pastor Emily Scott quickly realized there had to be a better way to do church in a postmodern and postChristian city like New York. Believing that Jesus accepts and embraces the poor and hungry, sexual minorities, and those who have been excluded from the church, Scott decided that St. Lydia’s needed to open its doors to all. With the help of her friend Rachel Pollak and several others, Scott set out to change the way church was being done, or rather to go back to the roots of how church used to be done—working together to prepare a meal, eating the meal together, and sharing how Christ is present in each person’s own story. Each of these three pillars of the church, as St. Lydia’s refers to them, is rooted in the context of community and helps “create space for moments of transcendence through ritual,” as Scott explains. “Sharing a meal together is a practice that has its roots in the earliest days of the church,” she continues. “We read of Jesus breaking bread with his friends and saying, ‘This is my body.’

For the first few centuries of the church, Christians gathered on Sunday to share a full meal.” Through the centuries, this meal began to fade into the background, becoming less and less prominent. Eventually, the meal contracted into a single part of the service, called Communion, rather than constituting the entire context of the service. Every Sunday and Monday evening at 7 p.m., in the Brooklyn Zen Center of all places, St. Lydia’s redeems this lost tradition of church. When we arrived for our first service, we were shown to an upper room, an aesthetically pleasing space with bright contemporary artwork hung on white walls, round area rugs on light hardwood floors, and stainless steel kitchen appliances that reflected the many candle flames flickering throughout the room. A friendly congregant greeted us and provided instructions for the evening. We left our shoes on a shelf, put on nametags, and got to work. Each congregant had a specific task for setting up. My wife and I were given the responsibility of setting the tables with placemats, napkins, silverware, plates, cups, and drinks. Although quite a few others were also visiting for the first time, each worked efficiently at his or her particular task. Soon the spicy scent of Middle-Eastern soup rose from the large pot simmering on the stove, tended by this week’s chef, a congregant from Iran. Each week a different congregant takes a turn cooking for the evening while others offer sous-chef support. Around 7 p.m. a chime signaled us to gather around a small basin of water, where we were each given a candle. The service began with the meditative drone of a Shruti box and a song leader singing an ancient hymn. During the song, Scott dipped her hand into the water basin and sprinkled water on us. She then lit her candle and, lighting the candle of the person next to her, instructed each of us to do the same. Soon light emanated from each of our hands. We were asked to join the singing as we walked in procession to the tables, around which we formed a large circle. Scott broke the bread and passed it around the circle. We prayed and then sat down to eat and fellowship with one another. The food was good, but it was the diverse gathering of people and our conversations that made the meal so enjoyable.

“Sharing a meal together is a practice that has its roots in the earliest days of the church. We read of Jesus breaking bread with his friends and saying, ‘This is my body.’ For the first few centuries of the church, Christians gathered on Sunday to share a full meal.” Two people told me they relied on this meal to make it through the week. One person told me he had dabbled in occultism and sought a faith family in Buddhism before being accepted by this Christian community that truly cared for him. Others were able to be open about their sexual identity without having anyone look down on them. This was no ordinary meal on a Sunday evening but a communally divine experience! Many had finished their meal and some had gone back for seconds when Emily Scott rose from the table to give what St. Lydia calls an “exploration of Scripture.” After reading a Scripture passage, she invited several of the congregants to join her in dramatizing the text. After this, she opened the floor for dialogue regarding the passage: What does the passage mean to you? What struggles or theological concerns do you have with it? It seemed the whole congregation got involved at this point, and the text came to life in a way that just a reading could never have afforded. The service ended with the passing of the common wine cup, completing our Communion table. After some discussion, we received our clean-up assignments and began the process of washing, drying, and putting dishes back in the cabinets, packaging up the leftover food for anyone in the congregation to take home, and rearranging the room for the Zen Center’s activities in the morning. Upon completing our tasks we gathered around the room in a large circle

again to sing, pray, and dance before the evening drew to a close. My wife and I thanked everyone for their graciousness, said our goodbyes, and processed the experience as we walked to the train. What was it that made the experience of worship so uniquely fulfilling? Why don’t more people do church this way? As we pondered these questions we remembered what Pastor Scott had shared with us earlier that evening: “We do church this way because people are hungry. People in New York have hungry bellies that may be filled with home-cooked food. They have hungry souls that may be filled with holy text, holy conversation. And these hungers are sated when we sit down together to eat.”

Landon Eckhardt lives and works in New York City. As donor relations coordinator for The Bowery Mission, he seeks to bring renewal and hope to those on the margins of society, particularly the poor and oppressed. He is also pursuing a dual degree (MDiv/MBA in economic development) from Palmer Theological Seminary/Eastern University.

If you are interested in visiting St. Lydia’s, please go to StLydias.org to learn more. While this article was being prepared, St. Lydia’s began leasing a building of their own in the Park Slope neighborhood of Brooklyn and surpassed its crowdfunding campaign goal for renovations. They are now holding Dinner Church there in the evenings and in the

daytime hours are sharing the building with the community as a co-working space—“a place where anyone who would normally work from home comes to work together instead … There will be coffee and tea, wifi, and a spiritually focused collaborative community of people to work alongside.”

SUCCOR AND SALVATION

BY SCOTT TODD

There is one institution on earth with the capacity, the presence, the credibility, the endurance, and the passion to perform the ultimate act of caring for the poor. It is the church, the body of Christ. The world’s largest corporation is China Petro-Chemical, which boasts a labor force of 1.19 million employees. The church is at least a thousand times larger. The church is the only organization with hundreds of millions of members and the capacity to mobilize hundreds of millions of volunteers. I’m not just talking about the good people serving in soup kitchens—I’m talking about deployment of agents into every sector of society. Agents aligned by one Spirit and a shared hope, drawing on immeasurable riches to achieve what cannot be done alone. Dr. Ed Green, Harvard medical anthropologist, writes of East Africa: Churches are found in nearly all communities in the region and wield a significant level of cultural, political, social, educational, and economic influ-

ence. The church can be viewed as the largest, most stable and most extensively dispersed non-governmental organization in any country. Churches are respected within communities and most have existing resources, structures, and systems upon which to build. They possess the human, physical, technical, and financial resources needed to support and implement small- and large-scale initiatives. They can undertake these actions in a very cost-effective manner, due to their ability to leverage volunteer and other resources with minimal effort.1 The church is unrivaled in its capacity. If you want to respond to the massive challenges of global poverty, then the church is the organization with the legs to get it done. McDonald’s is also an impressive institution, with about 30,000 outlets worldwide, but local churches outnumber the hamburger empire by nearly 100 to one. The service delivery points of local churches greatly outnumber the branches of government, as does human capacity. In some African countries, up to 70 percent of healthcare is delivered by private Christian organizations, and those services are of superior quality to government-run hospitals and clinics. We have a similar history here in the US. How many “St. Someone” hospitals are in your town? But presence is about more than numbers. Presence must also be strategic in location. Churches exist in exactly the right locations to serve the poor. In the slums, in the villages, and in the city centers—the church is present everywhere.

Photos courtesy of Compassion International

The church is God’s plan for eliminating poverty

The church is not simply there physically either; its members are integrated within the community. The church is salt and light. It is woven into the fabric of local society, and it has been since its earliest days. Consider this statement written by Tertullian to describe the Christians around 200 AD: Do we not dwell beside you, sharing your way of life, your dress, your habits and the same needs of life? We are no Brahmins or Indian gymnosophists, dwelling in the woods and exiled from life. . . . We stay beside you in this world, making use of the forum, the provision-market, and all other places of commerce. We sail with you, fight at your side, till the soil with you, and traffic with you; we likewise join our technical skills to that of others, and make our works public property for your use.2 The church is present not only geographically and socially but also through time as a uniquely durable, local outpost of the body of Christ. The church has outlasted every corporation, every nation, and every empire. While we envy corporations that are built to last, not one even comes close to the staying power of the church. The church was there before the AIDS pandemic, through it, and you can count on the church being there when that dreaded disease is finally brought to its end. The church is the bride of Christ (Revelation 19:7–8), and she will stand with him in eternity. If she does not defeat AIDS directly, she will certainly outlast it. The church also has street cred. In 2006, a Gallup poll was conducted to discover which organizations Africans trusted and distrusted the most. The poll, conducted in 19 countries, found that they were most likely to trust their churches and least likely to trust their governments. The study concluded that channeling aid through local churches may be more likely to maximize hope among the people.3

HOW THE US CHURCH STARTED WORKING FOR THE GOVERNMENT In the 1930s the New Deal turned a local and relational appeal for help—“Brother can you spare a dime?”—into a raft of government welfare programs and entitled attitudes. In some ways, the US government became a competitor with the church for the social role of caring for the poor. Not long after that, World War II destroyed much of Europe, so the US government launched major US foreign aid programs to rebuild it. These programs later evolved into our current federal anti-poverty programs. Churches responded to the trends of philanthropy in the early 20th century, to the conditions of the Great Depression, World War II, and the Korean War. As a result, the 20th century witnessed the foundation of many nongovernmental organizations (NGOs). The Catholics launched the Catholic Relief Services, the

Even if you were an atheist, thought the Bible was total hogwash, but wanted to effectively help the poor, you’d be a fool to overlook the church. It has the largest labor force gathered in the very locations you’d wish to reach, speaks the language, and possesses local credibility—everything necessary for effective action. Not to mention the church’s strong moral commitment to integrity, honesty, and countless other virtues gained in its unprecedented track record for perseverance in such service. Without question, the church continues to conduct important anti-poverty work. Churches support the comprehensive needs of human development, which builds human capital. Churches offer moral foundations, which build social trust, relationships and the hope needed for communities to overcome immense challenges. These intangibles build social and leadership capital. The church is also an instrument that shapes public thought and engagement on important issues, such as environmental stewardship, social injustices, or discrimination toward minority groups and women. The root of poverty is the insidious and fatalistic lie that whispers, “You can’t. You don’t matter, and it isn’t going to get any better.” What institution carries the truth that defeats that lie? Who proclaims the message that “with God you can”? Who declares, “You do matter and it can get better because God really does love us”? Who offers the only foundation of durable hope? It’s the church. But these are strategic reasons why the church plays a critical role in ending poverty. You might think I’m arguing that the church’s strategic assets are its strength, but they are secondary. The ultimate reason that the church is critical to the work of ending poverty is the promise of Jesus. Jesus was given the government option and declined. Jesus could have started a business for social good, but he didn’t. Instead he established the church and promised that “the gates of hell shall not prevail against it” (Matt. 16:18). The church, expressed in local, disciple-making communities, is commissioned by Jesus and empowered by the Holy Spirit to advance the kingdom on earth. And that advance includes the

Lutherans started Lutheran World Relief, the Mennonites started the Mennonite Central Committee, the Reformed Church started the Christian Reformed World Relief Committee, and so on. Evangelicals launched World Relief as an arm of the National Association of Evangelicals, and organizations like Compassion International and World Vision were born. Most 20thcentury NGOs began as Christian organizations. But then something happened. After Europe was rebuilt, the “aid community” began to turn its attention and budgets toward poverty alleviation. The US government needed capacity, presence, and local credibility to implement anti-poverty work in those contexts. In other words, it needed the church and, specifically, the parachurch agencies that she created. The government began offering grants to organizations that could carry out this type of work. But the money came with a catch called “separate time, separate place,” which prohibited these organizations from providing “religious instruction” while engaging in their government-funded anti-poverty activities. In other words, Christian organizations can administer the vaccine or provide the antibiotic, but they are not allowed to talk about what motivates them, what truth they hold most dear, or what they

believe will heal the deeper pains of poverty. If you have to talk about those things, says the government, then do it in a separate time and place. It’s like telling Jesus, “By all means heal the leper, but don’t say, ‘Follow me.’” Many Christian organizations saw opportunity in this government funding, saying to themselves, “Those are my tax dollars, and I want to do some good with them!” Most of those organizations were struggling on lean budgets, so between 1950 and today many of them began receiving federal grants that required them to accommodate “separate time, separate place.” By legal contract, the proclamation of the good news was to be separated from its demonstration. Multiple forces, including government funding, conspired to advance a dualistic9 philosophy within Christian work. These forces pressured NGOs toward secularization of their work, which had various degrees of impact on parachurch programs. Some capitulated and are today entirely secular, while others are still running their races well, with their eyes fixed on the Pioneer and Perfecter (Hebrews 12:2). These secularizing forces are like a gravity field that pulls the Christian organizations in with money and then shreds their core commitments.

eradication of the evil of extreme poverty. No other organization was founded by Christ or carries the promise of victory against the forces of hell. Revolutionary love Early Roman Christians had a reputation for their concern for the poor, the sick, and the vulnerable. Just like Jesus. Just like Stephen. The early church historian, Eusebius, describes the actions of the second-century Christians when plagues struck the city: The most of our brethren were unsparing in their exceeding love and brotherly kindness. They held fast to each other and visited the sick fearlessly, and ministered to them continually, serving them in Christ. And they died with them most joyfully, taking the affliction of others, and drawing the sickness from their neighbors to themselves and willingly receiving their pains. And many who cared for the sick and gave strength to others died themselves having transferred to themselves their death.4 These Christians did not flee the sick and their dreadful infections. Instead they demonstrated “exceeding love and brotherly kindness.” They ministered to the sick fearlessly and died with them joyfully. This type of love was unprecedented in the culture of Roman paganism. It was revolutionary. Historian James Hunter explains in his book To Change the World that when the early church leaders declared themselves to be “lovers of the poor,” they offered a new model of society: “The care of the poor emphasized a very different and more universal bond of social solidarity, namely, a common humanity.”5 You might think that the leaders of Rome would welcome these social ser-

vices. But many did not. Instead they felt threatened by the new faith and its superstitious adherents. And they tried to stamp out the movement with persecution, including public executions in which Christians were shredded and eaten by lions. The Colosseum. The threat of love again faced violence from the kingdom of darkness. What if those second-century Christians could see us now? Those who were “exceeding in their love and kindness” during the plagues—who “visited the sick fearlessly” and “died with them most joyfully.” What would they have done to obtain a simple antibiotic on behalf of a sick kid today? How far would they have gone for a net to protect a child from mosquitoes infected with malaria? What if they could see us now? Perhaps they can. Perhaps they are among the “great cloud of witnesses” described in Hebrews 12:1. God’s movement persisted. The persecution did not stop the Christians from serving the poor, the sick, and the marginalized. And Julian, the last pagan emperor of Rome, found it infuriating. He thought he was being tricked, that the Christians had invented a new strategy to secure social power by pretending to care for people. So Emperor Julian, threatened by these devious, power-hungry Christians, decided to beat them at their own game. He launched competing social services operated by the pagan priests. But competing with Christian compassion was a frustrating business. Julian wrote: These impious Galileans not only feed their own poor, but ours also; welcoming them into their agape, they attract them, as children are attracted, with cakes . . . Whilst the pagan priests neglect the poor, the hated Galileans devote themselves to works of charity, and by a display of false compassion have established and given effect to their pernicious errors. See their love

The church at large, along with parachurch organizations like Compassion International, put flesh on the gospel by nurturing the spiritual, socio-emotional, and physical wellbeing of children so that they may develop into strong, Christ-filled leaders in their communities.

feasts, and their tables spread for the indigent. Such practice is common among them, and causes a contempt for our gods.6 A modern translation might read, “Those d*** Christians are tricking people into joining their stupid movement by pretending to care about people. They’re even throwing parties for the losers!” What a wonderful reputation. And so Julian, the godhead of the most powerful empire on earth, stewed like the Grinch over the charitable acts of impoverished migrant workers. Thus the Christian movement flourished. Baylor sociologist Rodney Stark offers a perspective of the Christian impact on society during this thriving season: Christianity revitalized life in Greco-Roman cities by providing new norms and new kinds of social relationships able to cope with many urgent urban problems. To cities filled with the homeless and impoverished, Christianity offered charity as well as hope. To cities filled with newcomers and strangers, Christianity offered an immediate basis for attachments. To cities filled with orphans and widows, Christianity provided a new and expanded sense of family. To cities torn by violence and ethnic strife, Christianity offered a new basis for social solidarity. And to cities faced with epidemics, fires, and earthquakes, Christianity offered effective nursing services.7 That description could easily be written today about Christianity across Africa. Christianity is helping many Africans cope with the economic pressures driving urbanization, the brutality of poverty, and the painful realities of AIDS, malaria, and other diseases. Christians are still caring for the orphans, the widows, and the disenfranchised in the hardest places. I’ve met pastors in India who have rescued baby girls left to die in modern acts of infanticide. I’ve walked the slums of Africa with Christian social workers to visit women infected with HIV as a result of their now-dead husbands’ infidelity. I’ve witnessed the work of Asian and African Christians—doctors, nurses, lawyers, counselors, teachers, business leaders, communicators—and am inspired and humbled by their persevering services for the vulnerable. I personally know African Christian colleagues who have adopted children despite their own meager incomes. Perhaps you have also met such people. Today there are still a lot of nobodies in the movement—thousands of anonymous “Mother Teresas.” The movement Jesus started is pressing forward—still living the faith with fearless love. Who are we working for? Sometimes in the context of development work with the poor, there seems to be a hesitation about sharing the good news of Jesus. A spirit of Emperor Julian lingers in our midst—not only within our culture, but even within the church. As the movement of “impious Galileans” remains steadfast in its service to the poor, Julian continues to accuse us of tricking people into our “stupid faith” by pretending to love them. The spirit of the last pagan emperor of Rome will continue to win tragic victories if we let his accusations stick. God will judge our hearts if there is any hint of coercive power in our assistance. If we offer grace with conditions or love with qualifiers, then we do not love as Christ loves. But if we don’t tell them about Jesus,8 what will we truly accomplish? It is clear that government funding of Christian organizations often reinforces the voice of Julian. Treat the infection, but don’t tell them God cares about them. Teach the job skill, but don’t pray for a job. Encourage, but make sure your portrait of hope is godless. Help, but don’t say why. The government’s demand for

Even if you were an atheist, thought the Bible was total hogwash, but wanted to effectively help the poor, you’d be a fool to overlook the church.

separation (See “How the US church started working for the government” on page 29) runs a sword through the middle of holistic, Christian work—a demonstrated and proclaimed good news. This is an extremely complex and nuanced subject, but I can summarize the situation with a simple question: Why should the bride of Christ go hat in hand to Uncle Sam? For 2,000 years, the church has been the hands and feet of Christ. She has suffered bruises and has not always maintained her focus, but the church remains his agency. This generation of Christian leaders will make a vital choice—they will either equip the church to carry out her God-given mandate, or they will see her bruised and struggling, forecasting her defeat. Will they extend their arms to lift her up, or will they turn their backs on her? Christian organizations should not feel the pressure to turn to the government for resources to help the poor when God has given us all the resources necessary for the work (and more). That’s not to say that governments don’t have an important role to play, but you can create a new center of gravity that counters the forces of secularization and dualism. You can restore and protect the work of the whole gospel. Here’s what you, one of God’s people, can do—support holistic, Christian ministry for the poor. American Christians can make it completely unnecessary for Christian organizations to go to Uncle Sam for support. The culture of effective, Christian generosity can reverse the trend that splits the good news in half. Great and effective Christian agencies are punished by Uncle Sam if they talk about Jesus, but the church can reward them for it. As Christians, would we rather have the work done in the name of Uncle Sam or in the name of Jesus Christ? Whom do we want to glorify? Ask questions of the organizations you support. Ask them to describe their commitment to the whole gospel—to both word and deed. (Editor’s note: endnotes for this article are posted at PRISMmagazine.org/endnotes.)

Scott Todd is the senior vice-president for Global Advocacy at Compassion International. He is also an award-winning, widely published scientist who served as a fellow in oncology at Stanford University Medical Center. This was adapted from Hope Rising: How Christians Can End Extreme Poverty in This Generation by Scott Todd (Thomas Nelson, 2014), and appears here by kind permission of the publisher.

Love by Tate Krupa (Etsy.com/shop/RedSwanUpcycledBooks)

THE GREAT COMMISSION HERE AT HOME Sharing Christ with the Deaf community by Sarita Fowler 32

any Christians unwittingly overlook the world’s third-largest unreached people group, many of whom live in the US. Although this group shares many similarities with the rest of us, their culture and language differ significantly from ours. Although natural-born citizens, Americans who are deaf enjoy little access to the gospel. The US Census Bureau estimates that 13 percent of the US population has some degree of hearing loss, ranging from slight hearing impairment to profound deafness. That’s one out of every eight Americans. “Deaf” with a capital D refers to the people group that communicates via sign language. Deaf people hold a set of beliefs about themselves and how they connect to the larger society, and their unique culture distinguishes them from hearing people. Just as we capitalize “Hispanic,” or “African American,” we capitalize “Deaf” to indicate their distinct culture. Lowercase “deaf” is an adjective that describes people who have lost their hearing. Deaf culture is intimately linked to the use of American Sign Language (ASL). If a deaf person uses ASL as her primary means of communication, the Deaf embrace her as “Deaf.” If a deaf person chooses not to use ASL, the community perceives him as “hearing-minded,” behaving as a hearing person would. Because ASL is a cultural distinctive for the Deaf, Christians should understand some basic rules about the language. First, researchers have established that using ASL triggers the same portions of the brain as spoken languages. ASL is not simply coded English but has its own syntax. For example, instead of signing, “The boy goes to the store,” the Deaf will sign, “Store boy goes.” Just as languages evolve from complex to simple, so do signs. Two-handed signs often evolve to one-handed signs. Signs requiring multiple movements soon reduce to one movement. Second, Deaf people in other countries use their own distinct sign language. A Deaf person in France, for example, uses French Sign Language, a completely separate language from ASL. A Peruvian uses a different sign language from a Mexican. Sometimes, two distinct sign languages emerge from one spoken language. The signs in northern Spain, for example, differ from those in southern Spain. Over 90 percent of Deaf children have hearing parents. Typically, hearing family members do not learn ASL. By default, the responsibility to communicate falls on the Deaf person. He or she must lip-read, gesture, or write back and forth. This burden quickly acts like a muzzle, and conversations with family members turn superficial and brief. But conversation with other Deaf penetrates deeper territory. Since no barriers hinder communication, Deaf people often feel closer to their Deaf friends than to their hearing family. They love participating in Deaf events where they can meet new Deaf people and stay informed about the Deaf community. They will remain loyal to other Deaf for the rest of their lives. Once we recognize the Deaf as a distinct people group, we understand that the Great Commission includes them as much as it does any nationality. Before ascending into heaven, Jesus left his followers with one charge—multiply (Matthew 28:18–20). When we wear our 21st-century ears, we hear “nation” and think “country.” Matthew’s readers, however, had a different idea of “nation” from ours. In fact, according to the standard biblical Greek lexicon, the Greek word for “nation” most often refers to “a body of persons united by kinship, culture, and common traditions.” Using this definition, clearly the Deaf count as a “nation.” If Jesus’ command extended to Matthew’s readers, it also extends to us. When two cultures converge, misunderstandings will occur. Loving people well—especially across cultures—also takes time. But we can all take small steps towards fulfilling the Great Commission among the Deaf, and we can start by approaching them with humility, a willingness to learn from them, and the flexibility to adapt our outreach Just released, Signs of Love: methods. A Guide for Deaf Ministry by Lori Buck provides a thorough “But I don’t know sign language” introduction to Deaf culture You can get involved with the Deaf even if you don’t and practical guidelines for know sign language. Consider the following options: developing a ministry to the Deaf.

LOVE YOUR DEAF NEIGHBORS AS YOURSELF •Understand their daily life: Most Deaf people install flashing alarms in their houses so that they can see sounds—the doorbell ringing or the fire alarm sounding. To wake up, they often use a vibrating alarm clock that shakes the entire bed. Some use trained dogs that wag their tails or nudge their owner to notify them of various sounds, like the microwave dinging, a baby crying, or a police siren. •Enter their personal space: Hearing people can talk to each other from a distance, but Deaf people have very different rules for personal space. They wave, tap, or throw a Nerf ball across the room to grab their friend’s attention. Offer consistent eye contact and visual attention when talking with a Deaf person, responding with facial expressions to show you are engaged in the conversation. •“Talk” to them on the phone: A videophone allows Deaf people to chat through a camera mounted to their TV—similar to Skype, but without the audio. A Deaf person who wants to talk to a hearing person (or vice versa) will use a videophone to call through a relay service. They sign to the interpreter on the screen, and the interpreter voices their message to the hearing person. The interpreter then signs the hearing person’s reply.

Deaf culture is expressed through films, folklore, literature, dance, athletics, poetry, celebrations, clubs, organizations, theaters, and school reunions. To learn more about Deaf culture, check out some of the following resources: / Deaf Performing Arts Network (DPAN.com) / History through Deaf Eyes (DeafEyes.Gallaudet.edu) / National Theatre of the Deaf (NTD.org) / American Society for Deaf Children (DeafChildren.org) / National Association of the Deaf (NAD.org) / International Committee of Sports for the Deaf (Deaflympics.com) / DawnSignPress (DawnSignPress.com) / Gallaudet University (Gallaudet.edu)

•Does your church have a Deaf ministry? If so, you have access to Deaf people every week. Why not sit with the Deaf members of your church or try signing the worship songs? Although it is important to learn ASL and to be sensitive to Deaf culture, friendliness can communicate your love regardless of your native language. I remember one of the greeters at my home church intentionally shaking the hands of the Deaf people who arrived. A smile, a wave, a handshake, or a hug welcomes the Deaf person into your congregation. Invite them to coffee, arrange a playdate between their kids and yours. Too often hearing people—because they don’t know what to do or are afraid they’ll do it “wrong”—make no overtures to the Deaf, but doing something trumps doing nothing every time. •Does your church hold outreach events for the community? Consider hiring an interpreter and letting the community know interpretation will be available. You can also partner with a local Deaf church (or a hearing church with a Deaf ministry) and plan the event together. Even if no Deaf attend, your congregation will broaden their perspective on discipleship. •Help your church consider adding Deaf missionaries to their support work. Some mission agencies have groups within their organization that reach out to the Deaf. DOOR (Deaf Opportunity OutReach) International (DOORInternational.com) exists to bring God’s Word and Christian fellowship to Deaf communities worldwide. Wycliffe (Wycliffe.org/deaf) utilizes Deaf signers from around the world to help them translate Scripture into various signed languages. Deaf Missions (DeafMissions.com) strives to

“Can’t they just read the Bible?” “They can’t hear, but they’re not blind. Can’t they just read the Bible?” I get this often when I speak to groups of hearing people, who ask me questions that those serving in a spoken-language context would never be asked. No one would ever suggest that minority language groups should be expected to read God’s Word in the majority language. Yet this is often expected for the Deaf. Here’s an example of why this is problematic. Let’s say you translate Psalm 23 word for word into ASL, making no allowances for the syntactic differences between the two languages. The first sentence—“The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want”—signed in that word order in ASL actually means: “I do not want the Lord to be my Shepherd.” Deaf people struggle with reading for

equip Deaf pastors and teachers with online resources. Deaf GO! (E3Partners.org/deafgo) takes the gospel to international Deaf living in the United States. •Have you ever wanted to learn ASL? Take a class or two at a community college. After learning some basic vocabulary and grammar, volunteer with Deaf elementary students or Deaf senior citizens. Both groups will welcome the company. Carole Brenton, a member of Wycliffe USA assigned to support the work of DOOR International in Africa, has worked with and among the Deaf in the US for the past 35 years. “Deaf people are usually the last to know anything,” she explains. “They don’t overhear anything, and they frequently struggle with reading. As a result, the Deaf have many misunderstandings about God and the Bible.” (See “Can’t they just read the Bible?” below) The work of missionaries like Brenton would be much easier if the rest of us were already sharing the love of God with our Deaf neighbors. Whenever Christians engage the Deaf sensitively and respectfully, their efforts please Christ. To fulfill Christ’s mandate, believers must engage the Deaf community. Regardless of Christians’ initial knowledge of sign language or Deaf culture, all of us can take steps to educate ourselves and to disciple the Deaf.

Sarita Fowler has worked as an American Sign Language interpreter for the Deaf and served in the Deaf ministry of her church. She recently completed a Master of Theology program at Dallas Theological Seminary.

My (hearing) daughter leads a Deaf ministry in Boise, Idaho. A young Deaf lady began attending the Deaf Bible study, and she and my daughter developed a sweet friendship. At one point this young believer said to my daughter, “I wish I could have a relationship with God like you do.” My daughter replied, “But of course you can!” “How can I?” the young woman asked. “I’m Deaf and I don’t speak. How will God understand me?” Deaf people often see God as “hearing.” They have struggled to communicate with hearing people all their lives. Thankfully my daughter was able to explain to her that God understands her signs—even hears her thoughts. She was so excited! She immediately began to pray about everything. You couldn’t tell her a problem without her wanting to stop and tell God about it right away. Today that young lady and her husband are being mentored to be the leaders of the Deaf church in Boise.

at least three reasons: 1) The education system does a very poor job of teaching Deaf people to read. In many countries deaf people are not educated at all. 2) Deaf people are almost always reading their second language, not their heart language. Second-language readers often read their second language at an 80 percent comprehension rate. In addition to the general lack of resources for Deaf readers to determine the meaning of new vocabulary, that makes sign language Bible translation key to their spiritual maturity. 3) As seen in the example above, signed languages convey many linguistic Carole Brenton is a member of Wycliffe USA assigned to support the features very differently from spoken lan- work of DOOR International in Africa and has worked with and among guages (e.g. verb tense, pronouns, etc.), the Deaf in the US for the past 35 years. making it difficult for the average Deaf reader to comprehend the text’s message.

Ken Wilson:

“It’s Time for Pastors to Step Up”

INTERVIEW BY KRISTYN KOMARNICKI

EVANGELICAL PASTOR KEN WILSON EXPLAINS

I think the controversy itself

WHY CHURCHES SHOULD BE INCLUSIVE BUT

is something like a demonic

NOT AFFIRMING, WHY WE DON’T HAVE TO

construct; it’s a supra-human

AGREE IN ORDER TO HAVE UNITY, AND WHAT

phenomenon that is not from

LIFE LOOKS LIKE FROM “OUT ON THE LIMB.”

the Holy Spirit but has its origin

Ken Wilson is founding pastor of the multicultural Vineyard Church of Ann Arbor, Mich., and the author of several books on Christian spirituality. In his recently published book-length Letter to My Congregation, he explains why even devoutly evangelical Christians should embrace gay, lesbian, and transgender people. While his conclusions may make him an outlier to some, his pastoral heart, missional focus, and high view of Scripture set him squarely in the evangelical tradition. We caught up with him in April for a lively and at times surprising conversation as he invited us into the midst of his wrestling and freely admitted, "Hey, I'm in process here!" Kristyn Komarnicki: In an article you recently wrote for the Huffington Post, you quoted the founder of Vineyard USA, your evangelical denomination, as saying, “Feed what you want and starve the rest.” Then you wrote that you believe “it's time to starve the gay controversy—to refuse to play by its rules, regard it with a studied naïveté—so that we can love gay, lesbian, and transgender people while honoring our commitment to Scripture.” The controversy that you’re referring to is around how the church should respond to sexual minorities in the pews. What is it about the controversy that you think is so damaging? Ken Wilson: The controversy itself is a force, and it’s driving away the important conversations that need to happen, it’s driving away pastors who need to think about how to care for their lesbian, gay, and transgender people. I think the controversy itself is something like a demonic construct; it’s a supra-human phenomenon that is not from the Holy Spirit but has its origin in the dark spirit. It has an antihuman effect, and pastors have a responsibility to discern the impact of the controversy, resist the spiritual oppression, and protect the most vulnerable members of their congregation, who are gay and lesbian and transgender people—whether they’re out or not—and the people who love them. And in their own way those who hold the traditional view also experience anguish as a result of this intense controversy. Pastors have a responsibility to spiritually discern and not to yield to the framing of this one moral question as the litmus test for orthodoxy. Moral concerns are part of Christianity, but they’re not the center of Christianity. Whenever a moral issue like this becomes a litmus test for orthodoxy, you have a problem. If Paul were writing his letter to Galatians today and saw this, I think he would inveigh against it as being other than a gospel-driven phenomenon. Because it’s Jesus-plus: Your view on this one moral concern determines whether you belong or not to the messianic community? Please!

in the dark spirit. It has an antihuman effect, and pastors have a responsibility to discern the impact of the controversy, resist the spiritual oppression, and protect the most vulnerable members of their congregation, who are gay and lesbian and transgender people—whether they’re out or not—and the people who love them. Komarnicki: It’s interesting to hear you talk about spiritual oppression in this light. When there’s this much destruction in the wake of something, you know that evil is at work. Wilson: It comes down to actual people’s lives. I first noticed it early on with parents who would come to me—parents who love Jesus. They love their Bible. They’ve had the transforming experience of the gospel, and that’s at the center of their being. And then one of their teenagers or young adult sons or daughters comes out as gay, and they feel they have to choose either for their faith, which means against their child, or choose for their child, against their faith. Sometimes we do have to make those kinds of hard choices as Jesus’ followers, but this one is a false choice. It creates a psychological torture device for these parents, and it’s part of this demonic controversy that says everything is at stake based on what you think about this one issue. Komarnicki: People often see things differently after experiencing them for themselves. For example, “I was against medication for depression—until I became depressed and discovered how medication is an important tool of healing.” Or, “I was a lock-’em-upand-throw-away-the-key kind of guy until my kid got arrested. Now I understand how much compassion people in the criminal justice system deserve.”

Wilson: Yes, and the heart of evangelicalism is an experience. It’s the new birth experience. It’s John Wesley—your heart being “strangely warmed.” And certainly the fact that Pentecostalism came out of evangelicalism means that evangelicals are people who value experience. But there are a lot of evangelicals who haven’t really processed that. We feel suspicious of experience, except in very limited contexts. What I’m trying to say is this: Pastors, you have to pay attention to your experience and allow it to force you deeper into a study of Scripture and an examination of your assumptions. That doesn’t mean experience drives the bus. It stays in tension with our understanding of Scripture. We also need to take seriously the tradition of the church. But I think the refusal to give adequate weight to pastoral experience is a big part of the problem. Komarnicki: In your book you say that it was your discomfort with your discomfort that drove your work on this. Rather than ignoring your discomfort, you decided to embrace the controversy and view disagreement as an opportunity. You compare the issue of homosexuality in the church today with the “disputable matters” Paul outlines in Romans 14-15. These are important matters that represent deeply held convictions. When people find a way to live in unity bound by Christ—in spite of deeply held differences—the church’s witness is extraordinary. Wilson: I was helped in that by N.T. Wright, James Dunn, and other scholars who were unpacking what was really going on in Romans 14. There’s a tendency to apply Romans 14 and this idea of disputable matters to yesteryears, disagreements that have now been more or less resolved. Can you be saved and smoke cigarettes or dance? Can you play cards or go to movies and still call yourself a Christian? In past contexts those things were quite significant, but they’re not today. That’s how we tend to read that text now, with a “who cares?” indifference, as if the argument was over worship music or dress code. But if you actually dig into the text and try to understand what issues they were grappling with in their historical context, great scholarship points to the idea that those issues included something like our first-order moral concerns. They were issues related to eating meat sacrificed to idols, which ties into the First Commandment, or Sabbath keeping, which you might even say is enshrined within Creation itself: God rests on the seventh day, so not to participate in the Sabbath is a sin against nature, which is of course an argument that’s used against same-sex couples. So these were big, big issues. And as N.T. Wright says, it’s not just a slam dunk; not everyone is going to agree over what is a disputable matter. In fact, Wright would dispute my characterization of it as a legitimate disputable matter, while evangelical ethicist David Gushee would concur that it is. It takes a really tough pastoral situation like this to drive you deeper into the Scriptures. Why aren’t we applying Romans 14 to really big issues today, as the first-century Roman church did? Romans 14 is an underdeveloped part of the evangelical, even the Protestant, understanding of Scripture. And you can understand why—because most Protestant denominations were formed by one group splitting off from another on an issue that today we probably wouldn’t regard as a disputable matter, right? One’s view of predestination, for example: There are probably a lot of evangelicals who could agree that there are good people on both sides, that it’s a disputable matter, yet it has divided whole traditions as if it is

Pastors, you have to pay attention to your experience and allow it to force you deeper into a study of Scripture and an examination of your assumptions. That doesn’t mean experience drives the bus. it stays in tension with our understanding of Scripture. We also need to take seriously the tradition of the church. But I think the refusal to give adequate weight to pastoral experience is a big part of the problem.

not disputable. So many of our institutions have been formed by ignoring the counsel of Paul in Romans 14 at some point in history. So there’s an institutional disincentive to have a robust reading of Romans 14. And now we’re paying the piper for that, because we’re reluctant to apply the wisdom of Romans 14 to our big controversies today, and vulnerable people are being hurt by that. Komarnicki: It’s clear in your book that you’re driven by mission, and in that way you are quintessentially evangelical. If you’re going to err, you prefer to err on the side of love and acceptance, but it’s driven by a desire to go out into the community and pull people in. I imagine some people say that you’re just watering down the gospel to make it more palatable. How do you respond to that? Wilson: Yeah, but anyone who says I’m doing this—or that other pastors would do this—in order to make our lives easier has not walked in a pastor’s shoes. It doesn’t make your life easier. Becoming an inclusive church is not particularly, at this point in history, a recipe for numerical growth for evangelical pastors! But I think it is necessary for missional growth, for the growth of the kingdom of God. While you tend to lose dear people who view this as a litmus test of orthodoxy, you’re also making space for people who have been staying away from the gospel because of the whole “love the sinner, hate the sin” approach. Their heart, their intuition senses

that that approach is not helping them move in a loving or godly way toward, for example, their gay sister, who’s been in a lifelong partnership and adopted two children. So, yes, it is absolutely missional. It’s not just about making space for gay people, although it would be worth it just to do that. It’s also about making space for all the people who love gay and lesbian and transgender people. You know, calling the gospel the “good news” is very significant—it’s not good news just because we say it’s good. We call it good news because we trust that it’s going to be received by the hearers as good news, right? I think the rise of those who claim no religious affiliation is part of that, because people weren’t finding the churches’ message to be good news. That’s especially true in a place like Ann Arbor. At our church we have a higher proportion of people from an unaffiliated or secular background, we have a higher percentage of young people (millenials and GenXers), and we’re in a college town. It’s a religiously averse, culturally diverse, left-leaning community, so we don’t have much margin of error here for an issue like this. So it’s probably not an accident that there’s an evangelical church in Ann Arbor that’s wrestling with this, because the mission issue hits me here more than it would if I lived in a different community. Komarnicki: I’ve heard some gay Christians say that they prefer a traditional church, even though they might not be as accepted there, because in their experience, Christ was missing from the affirming churches they tried. You tell a story in your book about a woman who said something very similar. Wilson: Yes, it happened a couple of years ago, at the point where I had pretty much settled in my heart and mind where I was on this issue, and the next step was “So what are we going to do about it?” We got an email from a woman who said, “You know, my partner and I are a same-sex couple, and we’ll be having our first child soon. We’d like to be part of a church together. I’m from a Roman Catholic background, and my partner is from a Southern Baptist background. Obviously neither of these churches would fully accept us as a family. We went to your website, and we really like your church. We tried some of the open and affirming churches but, as my partner put it very sweetly, ‘There wasn’t enough Jesus there.’ So we are wondering, would we be accepted in your church?” It was an interesting question. It wasn’t “Would we be welcome?”— because, sure, everyone is welcome at our church—but accepted, which is the language Paul uses in Romans 14, right? Accept one another as Christ has accepted you. And that meant full embrace. That meant no exclusionary policies, including disqualifications from leadership positions over such things. So that was when we knew we had to open our hearts and doors to gay folks. It was the way she worded the question—it required a “yes” or a “no” answer. You know, you can’t split the difference on acceptance. A little bit of nonacceptance is not acceptance, it’s not embrace. You can’t embrace someone and withhold yourself at the same time. So that was a very significant crossing of the Rubicon for us, to write back and say, yes, you would be accepted. And then we had to make sure the church could actually pull that off. But I’d be really cautious about characterizing open and affirming churches as not being Jesus-centered, because, well, first of all, I’m not part of the mainline tradition, and it’s part of the evangelical narrative to dismiss the mainline tradition as diluted. But actually, the pastors I know

from those churches in town are much more Jesus-centered and concerned about the Bible than the evangelical narrative I’m used to would have assumed. But on the whole, the mainline Protestant churches were the ones to make space for gay people first, and sometimes that was associated with perspectives on Scripture that I as an evangelical wouldn’t accept—a kind of backing away from the robustness of a fully vibrant Jesus-centered faith. The response to that in mainline Protestantism has been a lot of church decline; many of those communities are still in membership decline. That’s why evangelicals tend to point to that as a warning: If you go in the direction of affirming gays, you will be part of that decline. But I want to make it clear that I’m not adopting the language of affirmation, even though the approach I take is inclusive. We have a completely nonexclusionary approach, but I'm not characterizing it as open and affirming because I think the language of affirmation—moral affirmation—is not the language of the gospel. It may get us to the right place, which is nonexclusion, but it gets us there the wrong way, because it sets up this unintended consequence—the idea that in order for us to have unity of the Spirit, to fully accept each other, to use Paul’s language in Romans 14, we also need to affirm each other’s moral standing on this issue or that issue. And that’s just not so; we don't. We can’t. If we go down that road we’re on the path of moralism. And that’s not Christianity. Morals are important in Christianity, but Christianity is not the new moralism. We don't do that on issues like greed: For example, you might have two cars and live in a house that is much bigger than you need and use four times your fair share of energy compared to the world’s population. In order for us to be in community with each other, do we need to be able to affirm those choices we’re making? I don’t want to do that. That just puts us in the relationship of judge of each other. That was the kind of Israel that the Pharisees were advocating for. The center for the pharisaical approach to Torah faithfulness was ‘We are the judges, and we do the judging.’ That’s why all the questions that Jesus was asked were test cases of moral quandaries of the day. Jesus was saying, “No, you’re eating from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, and I am offering you the tree of life. I’m all about life and having it more abundantly.” It goes right back to the garden. I think there’s a profound theological issue here, and this controversy is pressing us to examine some unexamined assumptions, and moral affirmation as the basis of unity is one of those things. Komarnicki: That’s an important part the message of your book, the contrast between a focus on the knowledge of good and evil—and how that puts our emphasis on being “right”—and life. Wilson: Yes. That’s an underdeveloped part of evangelical theology at this time. Dietrich Bonhoeffer was working on that idea, in ethics, but he died before he fleshed it out. It’s not something you hear preached a lot about. Listen, God is sovereign. He allows these things to happen. There must be some redemptive purpose to all this. What is all this pain for? I think part of it is just forcing us to get clearer on the gospel and examine some of our underlying assumptions that are not consistent with the gospel. Komarnicki: I was really struggling with this last year, asking God, “Why all this tearing in the church? If we are all informed by the same Holy Spirit, why are Christians coming to such different conclusions on this issue?”

Then I opened Eugene Peterson’s Practicing Resurrection and read: I want to look at what we have, what the church is right now, and ask, Do you think that maybe this is exactly what God intended when he created the church? Maybe the church as we have it provides the very conditions and proper company congenial for growing up in Christ, for becoming mature, for arriving at the measure of the stature of Christ. Maybe God knows what he is doing, giving us church, this church. Wilson: N.T. Wright made this point in his Romans commentary when he said that Romans 14 is the climax of the letter to the Romans. He was contrasting the gospel based on the faithfulness of Christ and the gospel of Caesar. Caesar’s empire used gospel language—promising power and salvation to those who pledged their allegiance to the empire. Jesus’ gospel was a subversion of the empire’s gospel, God is sovereign. He because Jesus is able allows these things to hold his disparate to happen. There must empire together withbe some redemptive out the force of arms, purpose to all this. while Rome needed What is all this pain physical violence and for? I think part of it is force to hold its empire just forcing us to get together. But Jesus is clearer on the gospel glorified because he and examine some happens to be risen of our underlying from the dead. He can assumptions that are be an active force in not consistent with people’s lives without the gospel. the use of violence. That’s why Romans 14 leads to Romans 15, which is a paean of praise. Granting full acceptance to gay people is not about following a social trend—“hey, the millennials are much more accepting of gays so we need to get with the program if we’re going to hold on to our market share in the marketplace of ideas.” No, it’s about a new way of belonging—to God and each other, through the faithfulness of Jesus, the Messiah. Komarnicki: Do you have any gay folks in your church who choose celibacy? Wilson: Yes, we do, and I have learned a great deal about the experience of same-sex attraction from people I’ve known pastorally over the years who have experienced strong same-sex attraction and decided that it wasn’t the path of life for them, so they chose either to remain celibate or to be in heterosexual marriages. I respect their choices. I believe them to be led by the Spirit. I think sexuality is a very complex phenomenon, and it’s ultimately up to the individual person led by the Holy Spirit to discern what is the best path forward for them. I have nothing but respect for the men and women I’ve known who have made those choices. As a pastor, I support their choices. I am not in a position to judge their choices. It’s their story to tell—they have the experience. And I have to grant that same dignity to the person who chooses a monogamous same-sex partnership as a faithful path to Jesus—unless I see some clear indication that it is clearly not a life-giving choice for them.

When I examine the evidence, I have to say that this is a disputable matter, and we’re always going to lean towards acceptance when we’re dealing with these questions. My job as a pastor is to make space for both. And I think Jesus gets more glory if there’s a church that can actually pull that off. So we’ll see. Komarnicki: Did you shop this book around to many publishers? Wilson: No, I went with Thomas Nelson for two of my previous books, but I figured that no evangelical publishing house would take this one. And then if I published it in a nonevangelical house, that would just brand it as something that needn’t be taken seriously. And I had a relationship with David Crumm, the founder of Read the Spirit, but more than anything I trusted him. I needed a publisher I could trust, because as the leader of a local church I have a lot of stake in this. I didn’t want to be pushed towards any marketing angle; I wanted total freedom. In fact at one point I thought, “What I’d really like to do is print this book in pencil!” To send a signal that I’m in process here. We need to be in process here. This is not the definitive answer, and we’re not ready for a definitive answer yet. I asked Phyllis Tickle, who knows the publishing world and is a friend of mine, “Is it possible to print a book in graphite?” She mentioned David Crumm and Read the Spirit, because they have technology for reproducing books in multiple formats, so that literally overnight I could send them corrections and the next printed or Kindle version of the book would reflect those changes. Komarnicki: What has most surprised you about this journey you’ve been on? Wilson: One thing is that I didn’t expect the book to get the publicity it did. I was just looking for a good format, because initially I made it available as a literal letter to my congregation. And I was revising it as I got input from people who read it, so there was a communal aspect to it, and I had lots of revisions. Then pastors and others got wind of what I was doing and wanted a copy of it, so I thought, Okay, I’ll make it available in an e-book and keep revising it. So it had almost a self-publishing feel to it. But almost on a whim I sent the manuscript to David Gushee, who I had met in my work with Evangelicals and Climate Change. I sent it to him thinking that—because he had an ethics column in Christianity Today and co-wrote the classic Kingdom Ethics with Glen Stassen—maybe he’d say, “I don’t agree with Wilson’s conclusions, but this process is really important, so read this book even if you don’t agree with it.” But I never expected him to be so supportive, because he’s an evangelical ethicist with a lot of skin in the game. So I was shocked when he responded by saying, “Wilson, this is really important, and I want to support this in any way I can.” So I asked him to write the foreword, and I think that’s why it’s gotten more publicity within the evangelical world. Gushee being willing to go out on a limb to write the kind of foreword he did—that’s a big deal. So we’re kind of out on the limb together! And there should be room for those who are certain about a traditional reading of the texts and thus have a different discernment about the morality of same-sex relationships. But it is only possible to include those who don’t share the traditional reading and those who are gay, lesbian, and transgender if everyone yields their right to insist on exclusionary practices as the basis of fellowship. I’ve offered my understanding of Romans 14-15 as a biblical justification for fully accepting people who are gay, lesbian, and transgender—so

that we all belong to God and each other thanks to the faithfulness of Jesus and not a shared view of the morality of same-sex relationships—on the ground that this question is a disputable matter. Komarnicki: I think it’s really important that you’re respectful of both sides. Wilson: I’m hoping there will be some other theological voices that will weigh in on this Romans 14 question, because there are some real debatable issues in the framing of it as a disputable matter! Is this in fact the kind of issue that Romans 14 properly applies to? There are all the questions of historical context of the same-sex prohibitive texts. There’s the question of what is the biblical understanding of marriage, and does it allow for two people of the same sex to enter that kind of covenantal relationship? Egalitarian marriage wasn’t anticipated by the biblical authors in their historical context, and many of them probably viewed women as the property of the husband. There are certainly indications of that in the text. Is the biblical understanding of marriage at its core something that allows for these kinds of adjustments as the gospel enters different cultures? I think it does, but that’s going to be hotly contested, and Romans 14 is going to be hotly contested. Did the Greco-Roman world of Paul have anything comparable to today’s monogamous gay relationships? N.T. Wright claims that it did, but I find his evidence for that very unconvincing. But the controversy is putting pressure on the scholarship, and that needs to be acknowledged, because once you depart from the traditional consensus on this issue it’s easy to get branded as someone stepping outside the bounds of holiness and orthodoxy. And that affects everybody—pastors, scholars, the people in the pews. Komarnicki: Does your current understanding of this issue put you at risk in your denomination? Wilson: Oh, it’s clear that my standing within Vineyard is pretty tentative. I think it’s quite likely that there won’t be room for this within Vineyard, although I hope differently. If you’re a denominational leader, the age of consequences has finally hit on this issue. Every pastor, every denomination is being forced to define where they’re at on the issue, and there are consequences no matter what you say. There are probably denominations that never had formal statements on this question—that’s the case for Vineyard. It had an informal tradition but not any formal statements. Now they’ve made a formal statement, backing the traditional consensus, and now the question is whether there is going to be any tolerance of variant perspectives. I have nothing but mercy for pastors and leaders of church networks trying to deal with this issue right now, because there is no clear win from an organizational point

of view. You’re going to suffer losses no matter what you do. I feel compassion for the leaders of Vineyard USA. They are in a tough position. I was a leader at the national level in Vineyard at one time, so I can appreciate the painful dilemma they find themselves in. Komarnicki: I sense that it was really your desire to be a better pastor that pushed you into this journey. Wilson: Yes, well, that’s my skin in the game, as a pastor. I’m not gay, but where the rubber hit the road for me was my pastoral care of people. I’d read a gazillion books on this issue, biblical exegesis, theological books. I didn’t want to just add to that pile. I wondered, Who am I to speak to this issue? But then I thought, wait a minute, I’m a pastor, and congregations don’t really understand what a pastor has to wrestle through to deal with these questions, so I thought maybe that would be a contribution. I think pastors are the ones who are now in the driver’s seat on this question. We’ve heard from academia. Now pastors are the ones who have to decide—are we going to continue exclusionary practices, including categorical disqualification of gay folks from ministry and service? Or are we going to find a way forward? It’s up to us to decide. Just as pastors had to figure out how to deal with divorce and remarriage. That’s something that got settled in pastors’ offices all over the country. It’s time for pastors to step up. (Editor’s note: Read a review of Ken Wilson’s book on the ESA website.)

The editor of PRISM for 14 years, Kristyn Komarnicki is also the facilitator of ESA’s Oriented to Love dialogues, which bring together Christians from various sexual and theological orientations to listen to each other in love. Learn more at EvangelicalsforSocialAction.org.

JOIN THE REFORMATION PROJECT FOR OUR D.C. CONFERENCE WHEN: November 6-8, 2014 WHERE: National City Christian Church, Washington D.C. WHAT: A Bible-based training conference for Christians who want to help their churches become LGBT-affirming

CONFERENCE KEYNOTE SPEAKERS Rev. Allyson Robinson

Dr. David Gushee

Matthew Vines

James V. Brownson

ALSO FEATURING

Gene Robinson • Jane Clementi • Justin Lee Amy Butler • Danny Cortez • Nikilas Mawanda MacArthur Flournoy • Sharon Groves • Kathy Baldock Brent Childers • Vivian Taylor • Rod Snyder Joseph Tolton • Alexia Salvatierra • Joe Ward Sharon Groves • Brandan Robertson...and more to come!

MASTER OF CEREMONIES

Chanese Elifé

The Gay Community and That One Time Jesus Called Me the N-word BY SAMMY ADEBIYI Five days before I preached a sermon on homosexuality, I got this comment on my blog: Keep your phony ass bigot bulls**t and your pious sense of higher status to yourself, you piece of trash. You can try to stop me all you want, but you are still a n****r and a cult-leading fag. No wonder your father didn’t see you for 11 years. Who would be proud of their n****r son starting a cult? - Jesus I tell you what: I’ve never felt so hated. I wish I could say his words bounced off me like bullets on Superman because I was wearing my spiritual cape, but I can’t. Nope. No super spiritual response here. Just a discouraged pastor who wanted to crawl up in a hole and not come out. I know I won’t get any “hall of faith” votes for saying this, but I honestly wanted to quit ministry, life, Jesus, and everything. All because some internet troll blasted me on my blog. And on Twitter. Then on my blog again after bypassing my filter. Then on a new Twitter account after I blocked the first one. Then back to my blog on a new IP address. One last Twitter account. Over and over again, “Jesus” (as he called himself) berated me and called me the n-word—more times than I care to remember. Over 50 comments later, I was sitting in a corner bawling my eyes out because I felt so hated by “Jesus.” In desperation I prayed for Jesus to make “Jesus” go away. I asked for him to make me feel better, but he didn’t. No, he did something better. Instead, he said: “Now you know what it sometimes ‘feels’ like to be gay. Now you know what the gay community has to face from family/ neighbors/the church.” And BOOM, just like that, God blindsided me with a 100-mile-an-hour curveball that literally left me breathless and in tears. God used the words of an ignorant troll to cut my heart open, and then

he filled it with love for the gay community. I literally didn’t know what to do but cry and say sorry. “I’m sorry.” That’s how I started my sermon on homosexuality five days after “Jesus” trolled me online: “I’m sorry”. I swear you could have heard a pin drop. I guess no one expected me to start a sermon on homosexuality by saying “sorry”:

I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for anyone who has ever felt hated, like I did, because they are LGBT or Q. I’m sorry for anyone who’s ever heard a parent say, “You’re no longer welcome here, because you’re LGBT or Q.” I’m sorry for anyone who’s ever felt unwelcome in the church because they are LGBT or Q. I’m sorry for anyone who’s ever felt like “Jesus” hated them. Jesus doesn’t hate you. He loves you more than you can ever imagine. I don’t know if we’ll ever agree on the issue of homosexuality, but what I do know is Jesus loves you. I know that he loves you, and I also know that I haven’t done a good job of showing you that, and for that I’m so sorry. I said something like that, cried, read from the Bible, cried, said “sorry” a couple more times and talked about how badly I hope that our community is someday known for loving the gay community. Wanna hear something crazy? I made a bigger difference in the gay community through that one sermon than I have in over 10 years of ministry. Why? Because it was the first time I really cared about gay people, and they could tell.

That night I shook hands, hugged, and became friends with several gay people (most of whom disagree with me theologically). I also got emails from others who admitted they’ve always felt hated by Jesus and the church—until that night. But, Sammy, you might be thinking, how do you love someone whose actions or behaviors you find really unacceptable? How can I love someone who I believe is living in sin? Great question. Do your thing, Mr. C. S. Lewis:

Signs of Hope

If you can’t say amen, say ouch. It’s true isn’t it? It’s true that you and I have plenty of practice loving, forgiving, and taking care of someone who disgusts us at times. And it’s true that there are plenty of things we do that we don’t like, but we can love ourselves and accept ourselves without approving of everything we do. Please don’t miss the point. This is not about what the Bible teaches about homosexuality. This is about the hypocrisy in my heart (and maybe yours). This is a reminder to exAnd BOOM, just tend grace and love to our gay like that, God brothers and sisters, just as we blindsided me readily extend it to ourselves. Or with a 100-mileas they extend it to us. an-hour Guess what the LGBTQ com- curveball that munity in Toledo said when we literally left asked them what they thought me breathless about Christians: “We are hesitant and in tears. to say anything, because we are stereotyped a lot, and we definitely don’t want to do that to all Christians.” When I read that, I cried. I cried because their response confirmed that I’m such a hypocrite. I cried because now when I look at our gay brothers and sisters, I no longer see a threat or an “issue” to debate. I see people who feel hated by Jesus. I cried because, for the first time in my life, I want gay people to know Jesus loves them more than I want them to know my theological position. Why do you think so many in the gay community feel so hated by Jesus and the church? Do you think it’s possible for us to disagree and still love people radically?

Pastor Jer Swigart leads the Open Door Community, a progressive young church, in Walnut Creek, Calif., outside San Francisco. The church community is defined by what it means to live like Jesus and share his love with the world. For years they have been globally connected. One of their mission partners focuses on responding to the needs of people suffering from HIV/AIDS in Uganda. But as the church developed relationships and sought to respond to the needs they were seeing, they began to ask, “How much of a right do we have to care about global AIDS when we are not responding to the needs of people affected by AIDS locally?” Swigart decided to learn more about the effects of AIDS in the San Francisco area. On December 1, 2008, accompanied by his 1-year-old daughter, he attended the National AIDS Memorial Grove gathering to commemorate the lives of those affected by the disease. There he encountered a stark reality. AIDS in San Francisco did not look like the widows and the orphans he had met in Uganda. Rather, AIDS in the Bay Area looked like “you and me.” During this encounter, Swigart realized that two things were clearly missing from this AIDS commemoration gathering: first, hope; second, the Christian community. Convicted and compelled, he returned to his church and began to gather a small group of people to do landscaping and other projects in the AIDS Memorial Grove community once a month. “We just started to show up,” he says, “over and over—intentionally developing relationships.” The following year the AIDS Memorial Grove community planned a fundraising event called “Light in the Grove” but realized the only way to pull it off was to get a big group of volunteers to support the event. Who did they call? Their friends at the Open Door Community. Swigart and Open Door embraced the opportunity to serve and prayed that they would fully take on “every role of the servant.” Now, almost four years later, the relationships between Open Door and the AIDS Memorial Grove community are significant. In 2012, during an anniversary to host their covenant partners, the National AIDS Memorial Grove identified three communities that have come alongside them in support and solidarity: Wells Fargo Bank, a local high school that has been participating in their work days for decades, and the Open Door Community. When asked what he and Open Door has learned from this partnership, Swigart said they had learned firsthand how HIV/AIDS has “ravaged the gay community in San Francisco.” They learned what it means to live out God’s love by offering a “radical embrace” to a community that has been often marginalized and stigmatized by the Christian church. Swigart describes his church as an evangelical Christian community that seeks to honor Jesus by doing the “subversive work of developing friendships.” The goal is not for Christians to enter into relationships in order to “fix” people, but rather to reshape the paradigm of missions and point others to Jesus and his salvation through a posture of holistic engagement and authentic relationship. For Swigart and the Open Door Community, these relationships are what it means to “embrace the reality of Jesus.”

Sammy Adebiyi (SammyAdebiyi.com) grew up in Nigeria. He is currently the young adult pastor at NorthPoint Church in Toledo, Ohio, where he lives with his wife and three daughters. He is also a national speaker for Food for the Hungry.

Excerpted from Forgive Us: Confessions of a Compromised Faith by Mae Elise Cannon, Lisa Sharon Harper, Troy Jackson, and Soong-Chan Rah (© 2014). It appears here by kind permission of Zondervan (Zondervan.com).

There is someone that I love, even though I don’t approve of what he does. There is someone I accept, though some of his thoughts and actions revolt me. There is someone I forgive, though he hurts the people I love the most. That person is me.

After the questions the chapter concludes this way: Your sexual development is a normal event that is being controlled inside your body. It will work out all right, so you can just relax and let it happen … If you can learn to channel your sexual impulses the way God intended, this part of your nature can be one of the most fascinating and wonderful aspects of your life, perhaps contributing to a successful and happy marriage in the years ahead.2

The Kingdom Family A GAY MAN FINDS THE FAMILY HE THOUGHT HE’D NEVER HAVE by Tim Otto

Jesus’ own life and teachings underscore that marriage and family now take a back seat to the universal proclamation of God’s salvation and the formation of a new “first family”—a world-wide kingdom-building company, in which membership depends not at all on bloodlines, but on faith in the Messiah. —Mary Stewart Van Leeuwen I’ve known I was gay since I was a little kid. When I turned 13 my parents bought me James Dobson’s book Preparing for Adolescence. I devoured the book and found its one short paragraph on homosexuality under the heading, “Questions of Fear.” Question number nine is “Wouldn’t it be awful if I became a homosexual?” The brief answer includes this line: “Homosexuality is an abnormal desire that reflects deep problems, but it doesn’t happen very often, and it’s not likely to happen to you.”1

While some people have a “life verse,” I adopted those last sentences as my “life paragraph.” I hoped my attraction to boys would be overcome if I channeled my sexual impulses “the way God intended.” I wasn’t sure what that all meant, but I figured it at least meant “choosing” to be attracted to girls as much as I could. On the back of the book, I studied a picture of Dobson with his wife, son, daughter, and their dog. It’s a prototypical image I’ve seen used in ex-gay ministries over the years. Of all the advertising pictures that have worked on my soul, those reached me most profoundly. I grew up living a terrific version of those pictures. My mother fixed us breakfast and dinner every day. On our weekly family night, we would have a devotional together, a “family meeting,” and then watch a TV show together. Holidays were a delight—feasts filled with laughter, singing in four-part harmony, skits featuring my outrageous uncles, and often a trip to help build a Habitat house or to sing at a local convalescent home. I loved my family and wanted one of my own. Jesus’ family values Some say they are trying to protect the traditional family—the stuff of “family values”— from gay people, while others say gay people should have access to it. Jesus does teach some “family values.” Perhaps aware that his own father had contemplated “sending away” his mother, Jesus speaks against divorce in all three synoptic gospels 3. Jesus also criticizes the Pharisees and teachers of the law for devising traditions that deprived their parents of support owed to them.4 Jesus frequently cites the commandment to honor one’s father and mother.5 And finally, Jesus welcomes children and affirms the importance of their nurture.6

What is startling is how often Jesus speaks against and disrupts family. Near the beginning of his ministry, Jesus calls the brothers James and John away from the family business of fishing. They follow Jesus, abandoning their father in the boat with the hired hands.7 Jesus later tells a would-be disciple who wants to bury his father to “let the dead bury their own dead.”8 On the question of who can be a disciple, Jesus says a disciple must “hate father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters.”9 When Jesus says he has not come to “bring peace, but a sword,” he relates it to the family.10 “One’s foes will be members of one’s own household.”11 Commentators and preachers often minimize the offense of these sayings, but given the importance of family within first-century culture, Jesus’ words must have seemed even more offensive in their original context than they do to us today. New Testament scholar N. T. Wright says, “In a peasant society, where familial relations provided one’s basic identity, [Jesus’ teaching on family] was shocking in the extreme … It cannot but have been devastating.”12 Why did Jesus say such inflammatory things about family? In all three synoptic gospels, Jesus’ mother and brothers come looking for him. When Jesus is told about this, rather than inviting them in, he looks at the crowd and declares, “My mother and my brothers are those who hear the word of God and do it.”13 With this offensive statement, Jesus was founding a new family around doing God’s will. As Wright comments, “Jesus was proposing to treat his followers as a surrogate family. This had a substantial positive result: Jesus intended his followers to inherit all the closeness and mutual obligations that belonged with family membership in that close-knit, family-based society.”14 While a student at a Christian college, I found extraordinary hope in these aspects of Jesus’ teaching. Because I had always been on the outside of the incrowd, I felt as if Jesus was telling me, “You’re already in.” It was thrilling to think that as a believer I was included in Jesus’ family. I yearned for the relationships that Jesus describes in this new family of disciples, urging them to love each other with the highest love, even to the point of laying down their lives for one another. Rather than celebrating the Passover with his family, as was the custom, Jesus celebrates with his disciples, washing their feet and instructing them to do the same for each other. Before going off to be crucified, he prays to the Father that this group would be united just as the family of Father, Son, and Spirit is united. While I loved the challenge and idealism of Jesus’ vision, it was painfully clear that we weren’t living this out at my college. During my sophomore year I got sick with a high fever. My roommate disappeared and slept in another room because he was afraid of catching my illness. As I recovered alone in my room, I was angry with him for deserting me, though I knew that if he had been sick, I might have fled to another room as well. I knew that if we were going to be family to one another, we would need to stick with each other, even if it meant potential harm to ourselves. I began to wonder if Jesus really intended for us to act towards one another as though we were family. And I began to ask how the rest of the New Testament authors understood Jesus’ teachings about family. Isolation My college years featured fervent prayers for God to change my sexual orientation, faithful attendance at counseling sessions with the same goal, and sincere participation in a ministry focused on helping homosexuals find “healing.” My attraction to men remained undiminished, my despair grew, and my dreams of ever having a family of my own faded. After college, I traveled around Central America for nine months, trying to learn Spanish and understand the Latin Ameri-

can political situation as I sifted through the implications of being gay. Toward the end of my trip, I found myself alone on a bus, winding through the hills above Tegucigalpa, Honduras. It was a cool night, and the darkness hid the daunting poverty as the lights of the slums sparkled like gems scattered across the rolling hills. After months of listening to music with tuba bass lines, I was glad for the US pop music on the radio. Above the driver, an LED cross blinked to the beat of the music next to a Playboy bunny sticker. I had spent a lot of time traveling alone. In my isolation, one desire became achingly plain. I wanted to be with a man. The desire was clear, fierce, and unrelenting. I felt a thrill of freedom race though my body. Nobody knew where I was. I had money in my pocket. I could do anything and go anywhere. Pleasurable as that feeling was, I knew the excitement could quickly turn into a desolate loneliness. Though I longed to be with a male partner, I had been taught that this longing was entirely corrupt. Yet everything was corrupt! I couldn’t imagine a place, a way of being, a family, an economics, a politics in which any kind of life made sense. I was lost, with no place to be “found,” no “home” to return to. That night, the path ahead seemed to diverge into two clear options. I could move to New York, cut off ties with my relatives and God, and pursue a gay relationship. Or I could sort out what it might mean to be both gay and Christian by moving back to San Francisco to the little church community that was being formed by my missionary friends. I decided to take the road to San Francisco in order to give faith one last try. So began my adventure at living in church community. Five young women from an InterVarsity chapter had helped start the community, which later came to be known as the Church of the Sojourners.15 One night I sat down with them, and together we began looking through a pile of old yearbooks. As they reminisced they pointed out the good-looking guys and I chimed in with my opinions. For the first time, I could be honest about my sexual thoughts, and they weren’t followed by my inner retort, “Tim, you are so sick.” For the first time, talking about sex seemed normal and connecting and even joyful. As we sat there talking and laughing, I felt like I had found sisters. Finding family They certainly acted like my sisters, making fun of my amateur cooking, shooting me withering looks when I greeted them cheerily in the early morning. They taught me to like good coffee and helped me grow out of being oblivious to what needed doing. One of the women in particular, Debbie, jumped in my corner like a trainer caring for a beleaguered boxer. She wrote me notes of encouragement, listened to me rant late into the night, and hugged me in a way that said, “I’m for

“JESUS WAS PROPOSING TO TREAT HIS FOLLOWERS AS A SURROGATE FAMILY. THIS HAD A SUBSTANTIAL POSITIVE RESULT: JESUS INTENDED HIS FOLLOWERS TO INHERIT ALL THE CLOSENESS AND MUTUAL OBLIGATIONS THAT BELONGED WITH FAMILY MEMBERSHIP IN THAT CLOSE-KNIT, FAMILY-BASED SOCIETY.” - N. T. WRIGHT 45

IF WE CAN AGREE TO TRUST THAT THE CONFLICT OVER HOMOSEXUALITY IS NOT A BATTLE TO BE WON BUT RATHER AN OPPORTUNITY TO GROW, THEN OUR DEEPEST CONCEPTIONS—WHICH ARE OFTEN PRODUCTS OF OUR CULTURE—MIGHT BE REFORMED BY THE CHRISTIAN VISION. IF WE INVITE GOD TO SHAPE OUR IDEAS ABOUT FAMILY, WE MIGHT DISCOVER WHAT IT MEANS TO BE A CHURCH. you, keep going.” I had long talks with the older members, especially Jack, John, and Steve. I was glad to have wise elders to talk with, a welcome change from the generational ghetto of college. We ate dinners together, vacationed together, read books together, argued together, competed for bathroom time, and cleaned up after John’s incontinent dog. As good as life together was, we began to wonder, “Is this just a phase? An idealism that will pass?” We began to think about committing to each other in more costly, long-term ways. We’d been impressed by Jesus’ last words to the disciples right before he went to the cross when he says, “I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.”16 I had realized that the phrase, “as I have loved you,” meant the cross, and I imagined heroic scenarios in which I would jump into a river to save a drowning friend at the risk of my own life. But there, living within this extended family, I noticed the placement of this verse, shortly after Jesus washes the disciples’ feet. Maybe loving as Jesus loved isn’t in spectacular acts such as hanging on a cross, but in serving one another by washing the pile of dishes in the sink and cleaning the toilet. Yes, Jesus asks for radical self-sacrifice, but he often expresses this in small things. Perhaps it is in the daily tasks of living with one another, bearing with one another over the long haul. John Alexander, our pastor, frequently pointed out the verse in John, in which Jesus prays, “The glory that you have given me I have given them, so that they may be one, as we are one.”17 We are not only asked to love one another as Christ loved, but we are also asked to be one with each other as the Trinity is one! Together, we began to think about the implications of this unity. If one of us moved away for the sake of more money, or a more prestigious job, what did that mean about our commitment to love one another? Were those relationships disposable? The expressive individualism of our culture told us our highest duty was to ourselves. But what did it mean to take Paul’s words in his letter to the Philippians seriously when he exhorts, “Look not to your own interests but to the interests of others”?18 Some of the members of our community decided to commit to each other until “we discern together God has called me elsewhere.” Jack was asked by the mission agency he worked for to relocate from San Francisco to Colorado Springs. As regional director for a missionary agency, he joked that his job was to drive around and visit his friends. Even though Jack loved his job, he decided to quit rather than move, and take a poorly paid teacher’s aide job in a local school so that he could continue living with the rest of us. One of the five women, Laura, knew that choosing to live in a poor, urban area with others would alienate her closely knit family. After much agonizing, Laura decided

she needed to live out the life she thought would please God, even if it didn’t please her family.19 The five young, single women living in our Christian “commune” in San Francisco knew such a lifestyle didn’t promise much in the way of marriage prospects.20 Three of them chose to stay anyway. In The Brothers Karamazov, Dostoyevsky writes: Everywhere in these days people have, in their mockery, ceased to understand that true security is to be found in social solidarity rather than in isolated individual effort. But this terrible individualism must inevitably have an end, and all will suddenly understand how unnaturally they have separated themselves from one another. It will be the spirit of the time, and people will marvel that they have sat so long in darkness without seeing the light.21 Being gay, I had felt that “social solidarity” and “family” were impossible for me. Yet with my brothers and sisters in the Church of the Sojourners, I felt like I was suddenly coming to the surface and encountering light after years of living in an underground cave. I was living in a New Testament family, in which I was loved and in which others needed my love. While most churches won't become “intentional live-together communities,” most churches can grow in being family to one another. Coming home My evangelical tradition had taught me that, being gay, I would need to remain single. Ironically, the traditional and affirming churches are mirror images of each other, with the traditional side worrying that same-sex marriages will erode the “traditional family” (“family values”) and the affirming side demanding that gays and lesbians have access to the “traditional family.” Both sides are assuming our culture’s vision of family rather than inviting the conflict to help us think about Jesus’ kingdom vision of family. If we can agree to trust that the conflict over homosexuality is not a battle to be won but rather an opportunity to grow, then our deepest conceptions—which are often products of our culture—might be reformed by the Christian vision. If we invite God to shape our ideas about family, we might discover what it means to be a church. On the far side of this struggle, we might come “home” to a surprising unity. As with any large family, Christians will never agree about everything. But at least our conflicts might assume the loving tenor of a couple fighting for a good marriage, rather than the ugly, divisive debates of a couple headed for divorce. (Editor’s note: endnotes for this article are posted at PRISMmagazine.org/ endnotes.)

Tim Otto is a pastor at the Church of the Sojourners in San Francisco. He holds an MTS from Duke Divinity School and is coauthor of Inhabiting the Church: Biblical Wisdom for a New Monasticism (Wipf & Stock, 2006). As a registered nurse, Tim worked on the country’s first AIDS ward for 14 years. This article was adapted from Oriented to Faith: Transforming the Conflict over Gay Relationships and appears here by kind permission of Wipf and Stock Publishers (WipfandStock.com). Tim can be followed on Twitter at Oriented To Faith and on Facebook.

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Rather than embracing the conflict around gay relationships as an opportunity for the church to talk honestly about human sexuality, Christians continue to hurt one another with the same tired arguments that divide us along predictable political battle lines. If the world is to “know that we are Christians by our love,” the church needs to discover better ways to live out the deep unity we share in Christ as we engage with politics and our world. In Oriented to Faith, Tim Otto tells the story of his struggle with being gay and what that taught him about the gospel. With an authentic and compelling personal voice, Tim invites us to explore how God is at work in the world, even amidst the most difficult circumstances, redeeming and transforming the church through this difficult debate. With gentle wisdom and compassionate insight, Tim invites all followers of Jesus to consider how we might work with God through these tensions so that all can be transformed by God’s good news in and through Christ.

Oriented to Faith Transforming the Conflict over Gay Relationships

TIM OTTO

Foreword by Shane Claiborne

Tim Otto is a pastor at the Church of the Sojourners, a live-together

Christian community in San Francisco. He holds a Masters of Theological Studies from Duke Divinity School and a BS in Nursing from the University of San Francisco. Tim worked on the first AIDS ward in the United States as a registered nurse for fourteen years. He is co-author of Inhabiting the Church: Biblical Wisdom for a New Monasticism.

ISBN: 978-1-62564-976-8 / $17 / 154 pp. paper “Tim Otto is the rare voice in the church’s conversation about human sexuality who gives me hope that despite all the pain and confusion, we who bear with one another may learn what it means to be Christian.”

—JONATHAN WILSON-HARTGROVE, author of Strangers at My Door “Tim Otto brings a unique, wise, and honest perspective to the church’s polarized debate on homosexuality. His strong love for the church and concern for its unity underlie this challenge to stay connected with Christians holding varying convictions on how best to love LGBTQ sisters and brothers. Tim has been a valued consultant in our fellowship’s journey to hear one another well as we work from different perspectives on this divisive issue.”

—SALLY SCHREINER YOUNGQUIST, community leader of Reba Place Fellowship, Evanston, IL “Current debates about sexuality and religion are tearing communities of faith apart. Tim Otto has wrestled with the issues at stake, both theologically and personally, over many decades. He has something surprising, hopeful, and challenging to say to folks on all sides. Oriented to Faith invites us into a fuller imagination of what it might mean to be the beloved community. Throughout this book, Tim is a gentle and masterful host for the honest and tender conversations that families and churches must have today.”

—MARK SCANDRETTE, author of Practicing the Way of Jesus

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The Price of Pain by Nita Belles

Ministry volunteers and secondary trauma As I walked along Bourbon Street in New Orleans a couple of nights before the 2013 Super Bowl, my heart broke repeatedly. Young teen girls were paraded in and out of strip clubs while their pimps talked on cell phones, arranging “dates” for their victims, who would be forced to turn over every dime “earned” for providing sexual services. My mind rehearsed the horrific abuse and coercion suffered by these children at the hands of their traffickers. Psychologically and sometimes physically enslaved, valued only as a commodity capable of putting cash in the traffickers’ pockets, girls caught up in the vortex of modern slavery are possibly the most traumatic sight that an antitrafficking volunteer can witness. This is the face of sex trafficking, and it’s in my backyard and yours. My team was partnering with local law enforcement, and while many recoveries were taking place, my heart grieved that I couldn’t do more. I tried to make eye contact with victims, to entice them to talk to me, knowing there were services available and yet also knowing that due to the

abuse and traumatic bonding that victims experience with their traffickers, very few would be able to receive—or even believe that they wanted—help. Due to the warm weather and socially accepted vulgar atmosphere on Bourbon Street, I saw more blatant evidence of sex trafficking there than I had seen at any previous Super Bowl. As I left New Orleans the following day, my mind raced with the scenes I had witnessed. There were too many victims to possibly recover in our joint efforts with law enforcement. In spite of our hard work, young girls and boys were being led as sheep to a torturous slaughter. In the weeks following the Super Bowl, these

same images of victims haunted me as I tried to sleep. I found myself driven like never before to do more, more, more…I wanted to recover more victims, network with more service providers to offer them more opportunities for true help. Networking with legislators and others with the power to change laws took on new meaning. I was more passionate than ever about working with law enforcement and ramped up my presentations to them and others. But at the end of each day I found myself beyond exhausted—physically, emotionally and spiritually. It seemed that although everyone wanted only a small piece of me, my overachiev-

ing self was driven to give each person my all. An interior monologue of self-shaming became the soundtrack of my days, as I never seemed to be able to do enough. My desire to stop the atrocity of sex trafficking pushed me to answer “one more” email, write “one more” paper, do “one more” presentation. I buried myself in the abundance of work available to me, finding satisfaction each time I was able to help someone but seeing that satisfaction quickly fade as I moved on to the next task at hand. None of this in itself was wrong, but rather than being fulfilled and joyful in my work I was weary. Although my work is often stressful, I was aware of experiencing an inordinate amount of stress, flashbacks, and even some “triggers” that caused me to panic. I began researching emotional rawness and realized that the label for the misery I was enduring is secondary trauma. Some related conditions of Secondary Trauma Syndrome (STS) include:

What do we do upon recognizing symptoms of secondary trauma in ourselves? How do we go about taking the necessary steps towards recovering our emotional and physical health? My research revealed that many of the remedies center on a supportive workplace where supervisors care for their employees, not taking work home, not working excessive hours, etc. But none of those remedies fit my situation. As a full-time volunteer who oversees nonprofits, each on a shoestring budget, there was no supervisor to look after me. Working from my home gave

experiences in a nonthreatening environment that took the sting out of the memories. I also promised them that if talking things out with them didn’t work, I would seek a counselor to help me further process my emotional distress. After a few days of spending 15-20 minutes talking to these trusted individuals, I was once again able to fall (and stay) asleep at night. I still remembered my experiences, but instead of being haunted by them and plagued by circular thinking, I was able to begin to use them to strengthen my future work. Journaling was another self-led therapeutic activity I took on. Just as I had spoken out my feelings and distress to others, I also recorded them in a journal, allowing myself to go down rabbit trails and search my heart in conversation with the Lord. Talking things out, journaling, and (if I had decided to pursue it) going to a therapist couldn’t empower me with enough vigor and wisdom to wipe out modern-day slavery. But my efforts at self-care did allow me to sleep, to think more clearly again, to laugh and enjoy my family and friends, and to experience meaningful work and relationships again. They also helped keep me healthy enough to continue to make a difference in fighting human trafficking. In short, they allowed me to get past my STS. There was a time when I thought I was immune to such trauma because of my strong relationships, the structure and boundaries in my life, and my strong faith. Now I realize that STS can happen to anyone working with distressing situations, including me, if I’m not careful. Superwoman I am not, but with honest self-reflection and a commitment to self-care and accountability, it is possible not only to survive but also to thrive in anti-human trafficking work as a full-time volunteer.

“I have it on good authority that you are just as precious and valuable to God as those you are trying to help.”

• Compassion fatigue: Spiritual, emotional, and physical depletion associated with caring for others in significant emotional pain and physical distress;1 sometimes used interchangeably with Secondary Traumatic Stress (STS). • Vicarious trauma: Changes in the inner experience of a therapist or advocate as a result of empathetic engagement with a traumatized client.2 Symptoms may include disturbances in the professional’s cognitive behavioral approach concerning their ability to trust and feel safe or in control, and it may even affect their level of self-esteem and ability to experience intimacy. • Burnout: Symptoms include emotional exhaustion, the feeling that one’s contribution is not enough, and an emotional distancing from one’s feelings or the needs of one’s client. It is related to occupational stress or overload and is not necessarily related to exposure to traumatic stress. I recognized some of these symptoms in myself and knew I needed to do something both to continue in the fight and to heed the advice I’d so often given to others: “I have it on good authority that you are just as precious and valuable to God as those you are trying to help.”

me plenty of opportunity to ignore work/home boundaries. The nature of my work and my environment set me up for STS, and there was no provision for help. It was time for me to help myself in a way that was honest, transparent, and committed. Throughout my years of working with victims of domestic violence and human trafficking, I had learned how to help them survive for the short term until they were able to connect with professional counseling. One of the things I commonly recommended to survivors was to find a safe person to talk to. Such a person was not supposed to come up with answers or solutions but simply listen to the survivor without being traumatized herself or himself by what was being said. I encouraged survivors to keep talking when things came to mind or were bothering them, as long as the talk was helping them work through it. I recommended this because often a person who is able to talk through traumatic events eventually gets to a place where the memories lose their power to debilitate the person and cease to “sting” in the same way. So when I found myself lying awake several nights in a row thinking about someone I wished I could have helped more, or some sad situation over which I had no control, I knew I needed to find a couple of stable friends to talk to. I contacted several friends and asked their permission to talk with them confidentially, explaining to them the feelings I was experiencing and why. I was careful to check with them regularly to be sure I wasn’t just transferring my trauma to them with my confidences. Fortunately, the more I talked the less I needed to talk. There was something about being free to express my thoughts, feelings, pain, and

(Editor’s note: endnotes for this article are posted at PRISMmagazine.org/endnotes.)

Nita Belles works with top law enforcement, government officials, social services, and the medical and faith communities to combat human trafficking. The author of In Our Backyard: A Christian Perspective on Human Trafficking in the United States (2011), she is a regional director of Oregonians Against Trafficking Humans, overseeing the Central Oregon Human Trafficking Task Force.

Post-Traumatic Growth by Nicole Morgan

ost-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) has become a common term these days and describes the reality that exposure to trauma causes stress or anxiety to a significant degree.1 Our cultural understanding is that trauma causes damage, pain, and the rewiring of our neurons so that we respond in ways that are markedly different from how we responded before the trauma. But what about another response? While PTSD is real and at times

debilitating to many people, not everyone who suffers trauma experiences this reaction. Some people seem to push back and become stronger. It is not uncommon to find trauma in the lives of those who work for peace, yet peace-builders seem to experience post-traumatic growth (PTG) more than they experience PTSD. This seems to be particularly true of peace and justice leaders who fight against an injustice that they have experienced personally.* While PTG does not exist at the exclusion of PTSD, and

experiencing PTSD does not exclude one from the possibility of ultimate growth, it is important to explore this personal growth for the purpose of encouraging and supporting such growth in the lives of individuals and our communities. The authors of Quantam Change: When Epiphanies and Sudden Insights Transform Ordinary Lives outline some preconditions for individual change. The first is that there must be a “state of intense pain or emotional distress, a point of desperation or hitting bottom” in the life of the individual for change to happen.2 Among the elements that support growth in the individual and society are self-reflection, awareness, and the presence of hope “to affirm the capacity of the human spirit to change, even and especially when things look darkest.” 3 One of the defining characteristics of people who exhibit PTG in the face of trauma is the presence of hope. In her study of survivors of an Ethiopian famine in the late 1990s, researcher Ellen Alexandra Lothe found that “hope … was the most prominent factor in the young Ethiopian adults’ resilience, and the only protective factor to which they themselves gave credit.”4 Lothe followed up on this 1998 finding 10 years later to see “what happens to hope in resilience over time.”5 When re-interviewing the participants she learned that they “found fear of the future to be paralyzing in 1998” and seemed surprised that Lothe had found “hope” to be a theme of their life at that time.6 Yet, despite not remembering talking about hope 10 years prior and not understanding what they could have had hope for in the midst of such a dire situation, the participants once again began telling Lothe about their hope. It is hope for a better life, they say, that encourages them to continue to find ways to continue to live, have families, and work for change.7 A Christian framework In her article “Post-traumatic growth and the origins of early Christianity,” Joanna Collicutt McGrath writes, “The uncertainty of life means that apparently random tragic events can be expected, but there is a paradigm provided by the crucifixion as victory schema for reinterpreting personal tragedy and hardship as significant, benevolent, and an occasion for growth.” 8 Indeed, the idea of pain turning into joy or hope is not uncommon in the Bible, in which we are promised “strength for despair,” that our “pain will turn to joy,” that there will be dancing instead of despair, and that when we sow seeds of sorrow we will reap songs of joy.9 In the life of Jesus we see a Messiah who proclaims that “the blind receive their sight and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised up, and the poor have good news preached to them” (Matt. 11:5). In other words, Jesus offers hope to those for whom life seems hopeless. A Christian understanding of the possibility of this hope for substantial transformation can cause us to push forward to a better life for both ourselves and our communities. Indeed, we are called by Jesus to be agents of that hope for others; we are called to feed the hungry, visit the imprisoned, clothe the naked, and welcome the stranger (Matthew 25:34-38). While our ability to hope is impacted by the past, it is inherently about the future. Therefore, our view of the future has significant impact on what we hope for and how we live out that hope in the here and now. With this in mind, different people will have different views of what constitutes a “hopefilled” future. One could argue that the ability of spirituality in general and Christianity specifically to envision a future full of hope is crucial to seeing

growth rather than decay in response to traumatic life events. One woman’s journey towards PTG The peace activist Leymah Gbowee speaks with raw honesty in her memoir Mighty Be Our Powers.10 Gbowee suffered various traumas throughout her life: an abusive relationship, living in a war-torn country, hunger, being separated from her family, and more. Yet, ultimately, she is influential in bringing peace to a war zone and offering healing and hope to those around her, specifically to women and child soldiers. Hope was not her first response to the crisis. At many points in her life she found herself with intense fear and anger.11 “When you move so quickly from innocence to a world of fear, pain, and loss,” she explains, “it’s as if the flesh of your heart and mind gets cut away, piece by piece, like slices taken off a ham. Finally, there is nothing left but bone.”12 But she found peace and hope in various ways even in the context of war and trauma. Her first taste of it came from meeting with friends; together they shared their burdens and studied the Bible.13 Later she was able to enroll in conflict transformation training, and what she learned birthed in her a sense of purpose and hope.14 But progress was not a straight line for Gbowee. She found the resolve to leave her abusive husband but then remained because of other obstacles. She faced jealousies among the other women working for peace. She dealt with setbacks and hardships and misunderstandings within her own community. Yet, as she grew in a “crooked” line towards growth out of her trauma, the underlying factor was her hope for a different, better future for both herself and her community. We see the motivating force of hope for a better life and world in the perseverance of people like Gbowee. As she points out in regards to concepts such as intervening in the wars and conflicts of other nations, there can be no one-size-fits-all approach to peace-making because of the varied and complex contexts of every conflict.15 Likewise, there can be no one-size-fits-all approach to becoming people who grow and change social structures as a result of the trauma they have experienced. However, the lives and stories of people like Gbowee do indeed give us hope. The psychological study of PTG is still comparatively new to the field, but it promises to help us better understand the importance of envisioning hope for ourselves and others. (Editor’s note: endnotes for this article are posted at PRISMmagazine.org/ endnotes.) *It is essential, when speaking of mental health, to acknowledge that despite seeing patterns or understanding how some people are strengthened by adversity, our grasp of human psychology does not allow us to predict the mental health outcome of any individual in any situation. While some social structures or beliefs may lead to PTG in the lives of peace leaders, it is entirely possible that people in the same context could still experience PTSD by no fault of their own actions or beliefs. It would be irresponsible to suggest that all sorrow, anguish, and trauma can be funneled into a positive (growth) outcome with a standard set of instructions.

Nicole Morgan is a Sider Scholar alum and recent graduate of Palmer Theological Seminary living near Atlanta, Ga. She blogs at JNicoleMorgan.com.

COUNTERCULTURE

Swimming upstream.

money (and many of us even fret about the fact that we are worried), we do so alone. We do not place ourselves in a position to benefit from the counsel of others. Nor do we try to gain the kind of perspective that might come from articulating and testing our own views more openly.

The Gift of Financial Transparency In 2000, I sat down and calculated how much my wife, Beverly, and I had earned since our marriage in 1986. I found we were approaching a million dollars in earnings, with a shared average annual income of $63,000. That struck me as a lot to be responsible for. And Jesus made it quite clear that for everyone who had been given much, much was expected (Luke 12:48). So these calculations were both a gift and a weight to contemplate. We decided to write an article for our church newsletter in which we disclosed how much we earned and how much we gave away in the previous decade. We also listed totals for taxes, Social Security, childcare, and housing, and we shared some of our values about and practices with money. Our intent was not to shock, shame, or brag. An Albert Schweitzer quote that our daughter’s kindergarten teacher sent home at the time perhaps best summed up our reason: “Example is not the main thing in influencing others—it is the only thing.” Our intent was to challenge ourselves and to model greater transparency in this area of life, an area that we know to be the most private aspect of life in Western culture and especially (and very sadly) so for Christians. As Robert Wuthrow wrote in a 1993 Christian Century article: The darkest taboo in our culture is not sex or death, but money… We feel that our money is none of their business…In [our] survey 89 percent said they never or hardly ever discussed their family budget with people outside their immediate family. The proportion who seldom discussed personal finances with fellow church people was even higher—97 percent. Ironically, while most of us worry about our

After the newsletter was circulated, I placed an announcement in the church bulletin expressing an interest in forming a group to discuss faith and money. Not many responded, but almost everyone who expressed interest joined the group, and we started with a committed six: men and women, both married and single, but no couples. Our first meeting began with everyone sharing his or her interest in the group, followed by the most anticipated activity: Using a white board, we each disclosed our previous year’s earned income and giving. Some trepidation was present, but, as I have learned over the years, there is power in sharing your information, in naming it in front of others. The power of this transparency is less about what others may think of your earning/giving and more about the vulnerability of bringing these things into the light. The Money Group, as we call ourselves, meets to this day, three to four times a year for two hours, with a different person hosting each time. Each time we meet, we wish we did so more often. Conversation begins by checking back from the previous meeting: How was that vacation you were contemplating, or that car purchase, or your decision to give unsolicited cash each week to homeless people? We then launch into the topics of the evening. These are simply any issues related to money that we want to bring up. One person will ask what we think he should do about an IRA; another will share about how she prioritizes her giving to individuals and organizations or what she is considering spending on a home renovation project. Each person shares his or her thought process, and the group asks questions, shares various perspectives, challenges, and encourages. Every two years we update the group on our income and on our giving, facilitated mainly by bringing 1040s and supporting documents. Periodically we have disclosed our full assets to each other: home value, retirement and college funds and other savings vehicles, and any debts. Once we tracked our expenses and shared that with the group. Here we are 14 years later, with five original members and three new members who joined in the last eight years. What has held us together for these many years? Choosing to be vulnerable and

sharing values has established a trust between us. Experiencing the deep value of relational engagement in this crucial area of life has developed camaraderie. And much of our lives are on the table, as money relates to most every aspect of it. So we reveal a lot of what is going on: from home, car, and vacation choices to insurance, college, and retirement planning; from gift buying and investments to the choices, priorities, and thinking behind our giving—and much more. We also cheer each other on—it’s not at all about piling on or beating up each other. It’s about being deliberate, and hopefully prayerful, with money and making choices to enjoy it, too. Martin Luther said, “There are three conversions necessary: the conversion of the heart, the mind, and the purse.” We seek to engage in the latter conversion—through rich conversation. I am confident that this is critical to the light of Christ shining into that well-guarded purse of ours.

Rev. Jonathan W. Hancock has both planted and pastored churches and has directed both a senior center and an outreach to men in the sex trade. He lives in Chicago with his wife and two teenage daughters.

Church + Ecumenism = Hope

There is a substantial, growing ecumenical movement developing in the church around the world. Much of the church has abandoned the hatred that Protestants and Catholics used to have for each other and that for centuries tore apart the body of Christ. More and more, Christians—including evangelicals—are putting more emphasis on what unites Catholics, Orthodox, and Protestant Christians than on what still divides us. All these groups are active participants in both Christian Churches Together in the USA and The Global Christian Forum. Pope Francis himself is a reason for hope. His spirit of humility, welcoming tone, and powerful call for economic justice are slowly transforming the Roman Catholic Church—and also improving the image of Christianity in the broader culture. That he is a good friend of prominent evangelical evangelist Luis Palau is just one small token of hopeful change.

Ron Sider is the founder and president emeritus of Evangelicals for Social Action and the author of more than 30 books.

Heart Collector How do you react when you see a homeless person begging on the street? Seeing someone so disempowered and stripped of dignity often makes us feel discomfort, dismay, and even disgust. While most people avert their gaze, a few make a quick contribution to the Styrofoam cup, and fewer still make eye contact, but it is the rare person who enters into conversation with his brother the beggar.

Willie Baronet is one of those rare souls. An artist, he has spent the last 21 years trekking across the United States conversing with, listening to—and doing business with—folks who are homeless. Troubled by his initial discomfort with the beggars he came across on his travels and wanting to address that discomfort, Baronet began approaching homeless folks and offering to purchase their cardboard signs. He’s seen everything from “Please help - my wife just died - lost job - lost house - God bless” to “Why lie - need a beer” to “I’m a disabled

vet – can’t walk – can’t talk – can you please help me?” He invites each person to set the value of the sign—he’s paid between $4 and $40 for a single sign over the years—and these transactions almost always lead to conversation. This practice has given him a deep appreciation and fascination for people’s stories, what words they put on their signs, and how they design them. Baronet has used these signs in a variety of his art installations over the years. For his 2009 installation called “Home?” he probed the meaning of home, asking questions like “Is it a physical place, a building, a structure, a house? Is it a state of being, a sense of safety, of being provided for, of identity? And what does it mean to be homeless: practically, spiritually, emotionally?” His most recent project is a documentary following his 31day, 24-city journey to create the installation called “We Are All Homeless.” As stated on the project’s website: “The purpose of the project is to raise awareness about homelessness and to change the preconceived ideas many people have about the homeless and their situations.” Go to WeAreAllHomeless. blogspot.com to learn more. - Jennifer Carpenter

When Your Church Leaves You Few insights are more disorienting than the sense that your church is leaving you. I’ve had this sense recently, and it has led my thinking to some unexpected places. Conservative Episcopalians felt this sense of abandonment at the ordination of Gene Robinson, the denomination’s first bishop in an openly gay relationship. Catholic women felt it with Pope John Paul II’s declaration that women can never be priests. Methodists, with their tensions over ordination, are experiencing it now. In schisms throughout the centuries, parishioners have felt the loss of rites, sacred spaces, and loved ones who ended up on the other side of a divide. The details change, but basic elements often reappear: My beloved church makes a decision or affirms a doctrine that violates some of my most cherished beliefs. In the environment this creates, my understanding of the gospel’s call on my life will not be welcome. I have no way to change the course of events. For Americans in particular, the solution is easy. It’s a free country. You have to do what’s right for you. If your church leaves you, move on. In many situations, leaving is precisely the right decision. In others, parishioners stay right where they are, despite the discomfort and the lack of welcome. Strangely, when my church and I started moving apart late last year, part of me wanted to stay because of the lack of welcome. It has something to teach me, and that something has to do with oppression. Granted, few things are more ludicrous than a middleclass white man writing about oppression. Yet that is pre-

cisely the point. If, as God asks, I’m going to stand in solidarity with the oppressed and the marginalized, I need all the understanding I can get. That includes even the smallest glimpse of what they suffer year in, year out. If I can feel it, I am one step closer to empathy. This impulse to identify is part of our faith. St. Paul echoes it in his desire not only to know the power of Christ’s resurrection but also to share his sufferings, “becoming like him in his death” (Phil. 3:10). It is one reason why Christians join organizations like Oxfam and World Vision in fasting: to identify with people who have no food. Let there be no mistake here. What I experience—as a parishioner under an authority that opposes values and beliefs I hold dear—is a far, far cry from being an antebellum slave or a victim of domestic violence or a village subjected to ethnic cleansing. But maybe, the more I taste that experience, the deeper my solidarity with the oppressed becomes. That, in turn, brings me closer to the heart of God. Even so, an abstract solidarity is only part of the picture. I floated these ideas by one of our church’s deeper thinkers, and she cited a quote she had found recently, to the effect that love and humility do not require acquiescence. What I hear in that quote is that while I stand in solidarity with the oppressed—and while I continue to love my church—I am also called to push back where necessary. Not everyone stays in a church that leaves them. Not everyone stays for the same reason. Surely staying is uncomfortable, and the effort can ultimately be fruitless. But sometimes that discomfort and failure can align us more closely with God. What more can we ask of our faith journey?

John Backman, the author of Why Can’t We Talk? Christian Wisdom on Dialogue as a Habit of the Heart (SkyLight Paths Publishing, 2012), writes extensively on contemplative spirituality and its ability to help us dialogue across divides. A regular contributor to Huffington Post Religion and an associate of an Episcopal monastery, he has written for publications across the spectrum of Christian faith.

Church + Humility = Hope Dietrich Bonhoeffer complained that the Protestant mainliners he met in the United States during his visit to Union Theological Seminary were light on theology and preoccupied with defining themselves as “not those fundamentalists.” Something analogous could be said for evangelicals whose identity is tied up in not being (or worse, becoming) ‘those liberal Protestants.’ I’m hopeful that this old narrative, a cheap form of tribal identity in both groups, is losing power. Which means the time is ripe for evangelicals and mainline Protestants to start listening to and learning from each other. Both groups are being humbled by reality. The mainline has been in a long period of decline, which evangelicals love to point out—Ha! I told you so! Our way is better—look at our success! Except that according to Putnam and Campbell in American Grace, evangelicalism stopped growing in 1993 (that’s 21 years ago) and is now in soft decline, especially among younger generations. Putnam and Campbell explain this decline as a reaction to the rise of the religious right, a reaction that has swelled the ranks of the religiously unaffiliated in the United States. Humility, the inevitable fruit of facing reality, prepares the soil for new growth. So look for a time of cross-pollination between these two previously warring camps. Look especially for mainline Protestants who crave authentic spiritual experience to turn toward what Tanya Luhrmann has called the “experiential evangelicals”—sons and daughters of the Pentecostal and charismatic movements who have sifted much of the cultural and theological baggage of those movements enough to crave a fresh experience themselves. Look for evangelicals who realize their culture war was a big mistake to turn toward mainline Protestants who adopted a more sympathetic approach to the secular world and are turning to Jesus like the widow with empty cupboards and a hungry midnight visitor. Look for the mutually chastened to mix with each other, to compare notes, exchange treasures, learn from each other, and in that humble exchange begin to find God in fresh ways that make sense to the poor in spirit again.

Ken Wilson is the founding pastor of Vineyard Church of Ann Arbor and author of Mystically Wired (Thomas Nelson) and A Letter to My Congregation (ReadTheSpirit). See our interview with him on page 36.

Reverse Tithe? Most of us have had the experience of being in church (usually in November) and suddenly realizing we’re going to hear that sermon. You know the one—about money, tithing, cheerful hearts. If you happen to have brought a friend with you that day, you might squirm a bit, uneasy with any topical combination of Christ and cash. Even among churchgoers, questions about giving abound: How much should I give? Do I have to give to the church, or can I give to my favorite nonprofit? Does God really require me to give 10 percent of my income? And is that 10 percent of my gross or my net? The teachings to early Christians do not mention a tithe. Much more radical in its approach to giving, the church described in Acts is a community whose members shared so generously with each other that “there were no needy persons among them” (4:34). While believers still wrestle with how that applies to us today, pastors and teachers like Rick Warren and Francis Chan have publicized how they have moved toward a “reverse tithe”—giving away 90 percent of their income and living on 10 percent. This is certainly a laudable practice, although not many individuals have incomes that afford them that option. A handful of churches have interpreted the concept of the reverse tithe differently—taking it to mean handing the church offering back to the church. The leadership team determines what a Sunday morning offering typically amounts to and then prayerfully divides that number by the average number of members in attendance on a typical Sunday. They then divide that money into envelopes and hand them out to the congregation during worship. People are then free to use the money however they feel led to use it. In 2011, Liquid Church in Morristown, N.J., gave $30,000 to its congregation in the form of $10, $20, and $50 bills. Pastor Tim Lucas told CNN, “People are cynical about religion and expect to come to church and be shaken down. But really, it's all God's money. Every bill in the US economy says ‘In God we trust,’ and we're going to put that to the test.”

Earlier this year Northview Church, in Carmel, Ind., gave $83,000 to its members. “I don't care what you do with it,” Pastor Steve Poe told them. “I don't care if you give it back to us or to a homeless person—as long as you feel like you heard from God on what to do with it.” He predicted that if members used to it bless other people and ministries, it could make a significant impact on the community. A family in Florida had an encouraging experience when their church tried the practice. Although they were barely scraping by themselves, the family had been caring for a homeless woman for about year, praying for her and tending to some of her most pressing needs. After their church’s Reverse Tithe Sunday, the family took the $100 in their envelope and gave it to the woman— no strings attached. Unbeknownst to them, the woman was arrested that very night, and the money ended up being her ticket home to Georgia, where she was able to reconnect with her family, get into rehab, get sober, and start working with a historic church in Georgia. Recently a different couple from the same church in Florida visited this historic church in Georgia and met the woman. After talking with the couple and finding out what church they went to, the woman recognized the church’s name and suddenly broke down crying. She told them the story of how her life had been so impacted by a family from that church. She has now reconnected with the original family, who were thrilled to learn how far their investment in her life had gone. What other ways could we, along with the other members of our church, work together, step out in faith, and give so that there are no needy persons among us? - Jennifer Carpenter

Churches without Walls On a mountain in Big Sky, Mont., a wooden cross is perched in the midst of a ski slope. On Sunday afternoons during ski season, vacationers and locals alike gather around it, while Chaplain Brad Lartigue, often swooshing in on skis or a snowboard, leads a worship service. The log-wood cross was erected in 1993, and services have been held there during ski season ever since. Because it’s located in the popular vacation destination of Yellowstone country, the congregation is ever changing. But while Lartigue enjoys meeting park visitors and is always ready to share his contact

information with one-time guests who want to stay connected, his main focus is elsewhere. “I not only minister to tourists,” Lartigue tells PRISM, “but my main focus is in the lives of hotel and resort employees and residents of Big Sky. I have been given the privilege of being a permanent resident of this community, which is continuing to grow and develop.” Memorial services, weddings, and baby dedications have all taken place at the cross, and a crowd of over 300 gathered there for a recent Easter sunrise service. Locals and park employees also have the opportunity to come together for Bible studies and evening worship services at a nearby hotel. In the more than 20 years that services have been held on the ski slopes in Big Sky, Lartigue and others have had the joy of seeing many people make a decision to follow Jesus and of participating in discipleship of those new believers. (Learn more at BigSkyResortMinistries.com.) Across the country in Boston, Mass., another crowd of people also gather each Sunday under the open sky in Boston Common. While tourists do visit

the weekly services of Common Cathedral, an outreach of Ecclesia Ministries, the core of this congregation is made up of locals, and many are currently or have been at one point homeless. Rev. Deborah Little, who founded Common Cathedral, thought of the need for an outdoor church after spending time with the homeless of Boston. “Folks I was getting to know on the street, many of whom find it impossible or are not welcome to be inside, and others—‘us’—who want to help and learn, needed to gather in the midst of the city, in an accessible place.” On Easter Sunday, 1996, Common Cathedral first met near a fountain in Boston Common. As the Easter service came to a close, some people in attendance said, “See you next week!” Rev. Little and others continued to show up at the same place week after week to minister to those more comfortable in a church without walls. Rev. Steven Maki, associate minister with Ecclesia Ministries, says that Common Cathedral purposefully brings together the housed and the unhoused in order that they might learn from each other. Church members who know homelessness personally say that one of the most important things about this church is that instead of the typical isolating experience of homelessness, it provides community. Common Cathedral’s Rev. Kathy McAdams says that not having a door to walk though allows them to be more welcoming to all. (Learn more at Ecclesia-Ministries.org.) All churches should strive to be a community without barriers, with arms wide open. However, for these and other similar ministries, the term “church without walls” is anything but figurative. These are places where all, regardless of creed, can experience community in the midst of God’s glorious creation and where all feel welcome—places free of hurdles, even those as low as a threshold.

- Nicole Morgan

CONSUME

It’s not all bad out there.

TV: Sacred Journeys with Bruce Feiler Have you ever wanted to go on a sacred pilgrimage? Or have you ever wondered what a sacred pilgrimage is? In December, WGBH, Maya Vision International, and New York Times family columnist/author Bruce Feiler team up to present a unique miniseries about the journeys important to various Christian, Hindu, Buddhist, Jewish, Muslim, and Yoruban traditions. Each episode follows a contemporary pilgrim on a spiritual journey across unique landscapes, giving viewers the chance to explore different belief systems through the eyes of devotees. Sacred Journeys presents a comprehensive picture of the practice of pilgrimage in its vast history and varied expressions around the globe. The series begins Tuesday, December 16, and explores pilgrimages to Lourdes, France; Shikoku, Japan; Jerusalem, Israel; Mecca, Saudi Arabia; Allahbad, India; and Osogbo, Nigeria. For sneak peeks and more information, visit PBS.org/wgbh/sacredjourneys.

Dresses for Success Growing up in Oregon, Sylvie Ofstie had a passion for social justice and a flare for fashion. As an adult, she volunteered as a teacher in the Tanzanian town of Bagamoyo, and it was here that the 31-year-old combined her interests into two initiatives: naSuma, a socially conscious fashion line; and Inua, a women’s empowerment project. Last year, while volunteering at a nursery school, Ofstie met the director’s wife, Pili Mtonga, who is a tailor. Attracted to the vibrant patterned fabric unique to East Africa, Ofstie sketched some designs and asked Mtonga to make her a dress. That first dress turned into a series of designs, and soon friends were placing orders. “The demand for the dresses we were designing picked up in a very unexpected way,” said Ofstie (shown wearing one of her designs, on right). As interest grew, Mtonga and Ofstie’s work morphed into a fundraiser for the nursery school. “Pili then came to me with the idea of forming a fund or workshop for women with the proceeds,” said Ofstie, who was immediately taken with the idea of women empowering women through training, education, and the sale of socially conscious clothing. Inua means “lift up” in Swahili, and naSuma means “with Suma.” Suma is a little boy Ofstie met in 2011 while volunteering at a children’s home in Lushoto, Tanzania. Ofstie is in the process of adopting Suma. “The idea is to lift up women,” Ofstie explained, “and to ensure children have the care they need. It’s cyclical, really, as women are usually the ones who make sure children are not left behind and are afforded a chance for proper nutrition and education.” In the first phase of training, five young wom-

Church + the Holy Spirit = Hope As one looks at the future it is always beneficial to reflect on the past. For over 2,000 years the church has persevered as the light of Jesus Christ in the world. Yes, there have been times of distress and repentance resulting in renewal in the church. But the Holy Spirit continues to cover the church and keep it corrected. At the present I am seeing the church in North

America at large, particularly among evangelicals, becoming much more engaged holistically than in the past. Pastors are realizing they are called to their community and not just to an isolated local church. They are engaging the local church to seize the challenge and opportunity to serve the community and beyond in justice and peace. I believe we are seeing a healthy emergence of social justice and

en studied tailoring during a fourmonth workshop. Over the coming year, groups of women will receive training in basic tailoring, fabric dyeing, and design, as well as jewelry design, English, and computer. Under the direction of Art Promoters Foundation, the project is thriving through naSuma’s sales on Etsy and Facebook and is on its way to a sustainable model. Ofstie travels to various parts of Tanzania to purchase fabric for the clothing line, and along the way she is learning more about Tanzania’s history, culture, and possibilities. “I love living in Tanzania. It’s a beautiful place, and its vibrancy, traditional designs, colors, and music all inspire me creatively. Tanzanian women inspire me with their hard work and commitment to family. I am honored to partner with them and work toward further education and self-empowerment for women.” naSuma designs are available at Facebook.com/ DesignsfromBagamoyo.

Sarah Tang is a communication arts and sociology student at Gordon College in Wenham, Mass.

evangelism as in the vision of Amos: “Let Justice roll down like a river and righteousness as a never failing stream.”

Jo Anne Lyon is the first woman to be elected general superintendent for the Wesleyan Church USA. She is the founder of World Hope International, a Christian relief and development organization working with vulnerable and exploited communities around the globe.

The Alarm: Marching On I have two words for lovebirds who announce their six-week or 14-month or almost-two-year anniversary: Who cares?! Most of the time, I feel the same way about the anniversary of a recording. Once in a great while, however, an album appears on the time/space continuum that moves along nicely, continuing to speak as loudly to the hopes, dreams, and longings of the present generation as it did when it first came out. When that happens, it deserves a periodic standing ovation, a celebratory shout—yes, even an anniversary tour. Case in point: The Alarm’s Declaration album, which has reached the 30-year mark. It’s hard to believe, really—but I can’t deny it, since the 30th Anniversary Declaration Tour made a stop at Philadelphia’s World Café in August. My wife and I went and had a foot-stomping good time. Mike Peters, the heart and soul of The Alarm, was a one-man wrecking crew that night. He sang every song on Declaration and more, making long-time Alarm fans very, very happy. The only thing that would have made me happier that night was if his original bandmates—Eddie McDonald, Dave Sharp, and Twist—were also making noise with him. Peters, however, valiantly invoked their spirits via his brilliant work on guitar, harmonica, vocals, drum kit, and loop machine, all by his lonesome self. Playing the familiar tunes one after another, Peters took me back in time to the year 1984. On the strength of a rumor that The Alarm was the opening act for U2’s War tour, I went to the local record store (remember those?) to get my hands on Declaration. “It’s as good as War,” a friend had told me. My music budget was limited, and The Alarm was unknown to me as yet, but the band members’ long, unruly, damaged hairdos, pictured on the back of the album cover, won me over. If their music is as rebellious as their hair, I reasoned, it’s got to be good. I know—pretty shallow. But it turned out I was right—their sound was every bit as big as their hair! The noise they made was so different from anything I’d heard before. Far from being a cheap, U2 imitation, The Alarm rode their acoustic guitars on the New Wave that was sweeping Europe at the time

and in so doing invented a signature sound. They were balladeers, telling stories via distorted punk riffs and noisy drums. As I became more intimate with the album, I discovered that The Alarm did in fact have something in common with U2: smart, spiritually infused, socially conscious lyrics. The album’s first track was the title song. Beginning with an energetic, hypnotic drum roll, Peters’ raspy, on-the-vergeof-breaking vocals followed: Take this song of freedom / Put it on and arm yourself for the fight / Our hearts must have the courage / to keep on marching on ... Thirty seconds into the song, I was marching in place to the beat. And every song that followed was equally marchable. Those 20-something punkers from Wales scream-sang what are now Alarm classics: “Blaze of Glory” (about commitment to peace in the face of death), “The Deceiver” (a warning not to let greed overtake you), “Sixty-Eight Guns” (on solidarity and community), and “We Are the Light” (a call to hope amidst the despair that surrounds us). Never claiming to be a Christian band, The Alarm defied their public silence concerning matters of faith with overtly Christian lyrics: Come on down and meet your maker / come on down and take the stand (“The Stand”); Live your life as it should be lived / follow your heart for the truth is everlasting / It is finished (“Shout to the Devil”), and more. After listening to the whole of Declaration, you feel emotionally shredded but spiritually high, as if you just got back from the last day of a revival meeting. Thank you, spikehaired, punk-rock Jesus! The Alarm released a handful of other albums between 1985 and 1991, securing a faithful following (including me) that went beyond those years. Peters and Sharp also enjoyed solo careers for a brief season. Then Peters resurrected The Alarm with new band members, releasing Under Attack in 2006. In 2014, Peters and the new Alarm completely rerecorded Declaration, giving the songs a more straight rock feel. After all, punk is dead. Admittedly, it’s dif-

ficult to listen to much-loved songs when they’re done even slightly differently, but for diehard Alarm fans the new album is still a must-have. To this follower, however, the original 1984 version of Declaration remains The Alarm’s finest moment. Beyond the Declaration remix project, Peters has embarked on other noble endeavors. A two-time cancer survivor with a faith-informed social conscience, he founded Love Hope Strength, an organization that seeks to raise awareness of the need for bone marrow donors. One fascinating campaign that Peters’ nonprofit has begun is Pledge for Peace, the proceeds of which go to the world’s only Arab bone marrow registry, which is located in Jerusalem at the Hadassah-Hebrew University Medical Center. The hope is that people will realize that Israelis and Palestinians (and everyone else) have the same needs and dreams—and these include good healthcare and long, fruitful lives. (Learn more at PledgeMusic.com/projects/theScriptures.) These last 30 years have seen a few changes. Punk rock is an historical artifact. The band members have changed. Declaration has been re-declared in a new way. But The Alarm’s commitment to peace, justice, hope, and faith remains the same. And they just keep marching on.

Al Tizon used to have some pretty big hair himself. He wonders if returning to that ’do would affect people’s perception of him as co-president of Evangelicals for Social Action and Ronald J. Sider Associate Professor of Holistic Ministry at Palmer Theological Seminary of Eastern University near Philadelphia, Pa.

Documentary: Kidnapped for Christ

Speak by Nish Weiseth Zondervan

Reviewed by Emily A. Dause

directed by Kate Logan SHOWTIME

Reviewed by Emily A. Dause

Kidnapped for Christ follows Biola University film student Kate Logan as she documents Escuela Caribe, a Dominican Republic-based Christian rehabilitation center for troubled American teens. From the film’s outset, Logan explains that as an eager young evangelical, she looks forward to seeing how this ministry goes about its work. Given her demeanor, the organization willingly grants Logan access to their facilities, their staff, and their students. Over the six weeks of her stay, Logan becomes increasingly concerned about the way the center treats the teenagers. She witnesses harsh punishments, both physical and emotional, from students receiving “swats” (paddling) when they do not obey authority to being isolated in a locked room for hours to days at a time. Further, many of the teens she interviews do not seem troubled in the way she expected. Instead, their parents sent them to Escuela Caribe for a variety of reasons, including being gay, struggling with anxiety, and acting out as a coping mechanism for childhood trauma. The more Logan explores, the more the staff shuts her out, transferring her to an off-campus house and significantly limiting her previous interview privileges. Perhaps most alarming about Kidnapped for Christ is that its topic is not as far removed as watching a documentary might make it seem. Kate Logan began her project in 2006. While Escuela Caribe and its founding ministry (New Horizons Youth Ministry) closed in 2011, the property was transferred to another ministry (Crosswinds). Crosswinds opened another therapeutic Christian boarding school. The boarding school, renamed Caribbean Mountain Academy,

is currently operating today.* Furthermore, as the documentary portrays when it visits a Survivors of Institutional Abuse (SIA) convention, Escuela Caribe is far from the only program employing abusive methods under the guise of therapy and rehabilitation. A 2007 US Government Accountability Office (GAO) report found thousands of abuse allegations at American-operated residential facilities within the US and abroad since the year 1990. Besides its topic, what makes Kidnapped for Christ truly unique is the way the documentarian herself becomes involved in the subject of her film. Upon discovering the disturbing nature of the “therapy” going on at Escuela Caribe, Logan attempts to help the teenagers—and not just by telling their story. Seeing the twisted actions committed in Christ’s name also challenges her personal faith. The documentary is as much about Logan’s journey as it is about the teenagers she reports on. May the same be true for us—may watching a documentary like Kidnapped for Christ motivate us not only to advocate for victims of abuse but also to examine the ways our own faith can be used in abusive ways. For more information, go to KidnappedforChrist.com and SIA-now.org. (*While Crosswinds denies ties with NHYM and renounces its methods, several advocates against institutional abuse are not convinced.)

We live in a cacophony of voices at high volume, high bias, low nuance, and low sensitivity. From social media to 24-hour news networks to news aggregator websites, there is a jarring but constant flow of unchecked opinions and information. This situation can give groups and people a platform to which they had never before had access, a characteristic of today’s society with incredible potential for both good and ill. Unfortunately much of the effect of this rise has been to strengthen division. People have become increasingly convinced of what they already think and believe, less willing to hear those who think differently, and ready to defame and insult people they have never met. It makes for a tiring world to live in, especially for millennials, the first generation to have experienced this frenzy for most of their lives. In Speak: How Your Story Can Change the World, Nish Weiseth gently and wisely calls us to a different way. Instead of giving in to the pressure to pick sides and to know others only through labels and stereotypes, she encourages us to vulnerably share our own stories and invite others to share their stories with us. Forming these kinds of connections, she believes, will bring us to a place where change can happen—in us, in others, and in our world. Weiseth divides the book into three parts: “The Problem: We’re Divided,” “The Solution: Story Changes Hearts,” and “The Outcome: Story Changes the World.” Throughout each section, she shares her own experiences living in the polarized cities of Portland, Ore., and Salt Lake City, Utah, advocating for impoverished children and their families through World Vision, and the everyday challenges and opportunities she encounters while mothering, writing, living in an urban community, and being part of a church plant. While telling her own story, she deftly weaves in others’ stories, Scripture, and entries from A Deeper Story (the collaborative website she founded as a platform for Christians of all theological

leanings to address difficult topics—not by stating their opinion but by telling their story). As you read Speak, you realize it is not only a call to share and listen to story; it is also a fulfillment of that call. Weiseth does not preach, instruct, or demand; she simply tells stories. In doing so, she does more than tell us about the power story can have to reach minds and soften hearts—she also beautifully illustrates it. Emily A. Dause (SliversofHope.com) is a public school teacher and freelance writer currently working on her first book, combining her passion for education and her passion for authentic Christian engagement with our surroundings.

Oriented to Faith By Tim Otto Wipf & Stock

Reviewed by Maria Russell Kenney The debate surrounding homosexuality is one of the most contentious in the contemporary church, polarizing communions both locally and globally. Not surprisingly, most resources either locate themselves within a party line or sacrifice rigor for amiability. Thankfully, into the discussion comes Oriented to Faith: Transforming the Conflict over Gay Relationships, which combines depth and balance with a highly accessible style. Arising from the author’s life experiences and subsequent scriptural and theological reflection, and incorporating the resulting wisdom with a compelling blend of humility and authority, Oriented to Faith is an excellent example of “lived theology.” Rather than begin by claiming and defending one of two positions, Oriented to Faith approaches the conflict over gay relationships from a kingdom perspective and politic, with a deep commitment to ecclesial life. Otto undertakes careful theological examinations of such concepts as family, economy, sexuality, power, politics, and church. He promotes a more holistic biblical sexual ethic, rooted in his core commitment to an ethic of “covenantal fidelity.” Grounding and illustrating his scriptural work with personal vignettes, Otto guards against the theoretical imprisonment that often accompanies such conversations. In a move that is both helpful and theologically accurate, Otto frames the discussion with the words

of Augustine: “In essentials, unity, in non-essentials, diversity, in all things, charity.” He gives a brave and generous account of both sides of the discussion, considering the dual possibilities of “compassionate traditionalism” and “committed affirmation.” Neither is off the table, provided they incorporate humility and graciousness. Both the theological Left and Right—the affirmers and the traditionalists— have strengths worthy of acknowledgement, which Oriented to Faith does with a refreshing lack of guile. It recognizes both the difficulties and the promises of arriving at a communal, congregational position. Moreover, it explores the deeper issue of whether churches on both sides of the debate “live in a way that makes the ethic they are espousing possible.” Those readers who scan the pages or skip to the last chapter to see which position the author holds as “right” will likely be disappointed. Instead, Otto warns against identifying and grasping the “correct” theological position that “makes us feel righteous at no cost to ourselves,” which then becomes “an alternative means of salvation, in which we don’t need the real God.” It is possible that this book may well fail to please either side of the homosexuality debate; indeed, Oriented to Faith does not propose to “please” anyone. Yet to reject it for its intellectual and theological hospitality would be regrettable, as it does more to move the church from conflict to communication than any resource present today. In his letter to the church at Philippi, Paul admonishes the believers to “work out their salvation with fear and trembling,” doing all things “without grumbling or dispute” (Phil 2:12-13). Oriented to Faith does exactly this, addressing the most controversial issue of the day with humility, passion, and a bold commitment to the two great commandments: to love the Lord with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength, and to love our neighbors as ourselves.

Maria Russell Kenney is adjunct professor of Christian ethics at Asbury Theological Seminary in Wilmore, Ky., and a member of Common Life Community in Lexington.

Got Religion? by Naomi Schaefer Riley Templeton Press

Reviewed by Kimberly Zayak The transitions that occur in young adulthood arguably make for one of the most challenging seasons in life. Young people graduate from college and are immediately expected to live independently, land a job, pay off loans, and find a spouse. Amidst this emotional and physical turmoil, one important aspect of life is often forgotten: the church. Religious institutions are seeing a greater decline in young adult attendance than ever. In Got Religion? How Churches, Mosques, and Synagogues Can Bring Young People Back, Naomi Schaefer Riley investigates the reasons behind this and looks for ways to reverse the trend and bring back the young. “The habits they form this week will affect next week, too,” says Riley, but so many other priorities trump finding and becoming connected to a faith community. What few young adults fail to realize, however, is that involvement with a faith community offers not only the spiritual grounding so important for navigating their transition effectively but also a rich fabric of relationships that can provide the social capital that is essential to moving forward. In the book, faith leaders caution young adults against the worship of “open options,” a “false god” that tells us that we’ve got plenty of time to become involved and it’s best not to commit to any one thing too quickly. “Emerging adulthood” is a new term that recognizes the lengthening transition period between adolescence and adulthood. Young adults are taking more time to leave home, decide on a career, and get married—and consequently they also often neglect their faith journey. Aware of this trend, the Catholic Church is doing more to introduce young adults to the idea of becoming spiritual leaders. The idea of “social justice” plays a role in the formation of young adults going through college. These opportunities for social action introduced in college are creating a draw on students. More colleges are offering service opportunities that allow students to give back and, as

Riley states, many students are specifically attracted to Catholic institutions because of the Roman Catholic focus on service. In some colleges, service projects are mandatory. The black church, too, is finding effective ways to reach out to young people. Reverend DeForest Soaries of First Baptist Church of Lincoln Gardens in Somerset, N.J., realized a need for change when he learned that the youth pastor of the National Baptist Convention was 80 years old. Soaries set about replacing the older ministry leaders in his church with younger leaders who can better relate to and mentor the youth of the church. Today, the majority of Lincoln Garden’s staff are between the ages of 25 and 40. While he received backlash for his staffing changes, Soaries explained, “’Twenty years from now, we won’t be here. We can’t wait ’til we’re too old to make this transition.’” Riley digs deep into the reasons behind why young adults are shying away from religion and how these institutions can bring them back. This is not a read only for young adults; if you’re finding yourself without a religious home, consider Got Religion?

Having recently graduated with an English degree from Eastern University in St. Davids, Pa., Kimberly Zayak is one of those “young people” that faith communities want to both attract and hold on to.

The Good of Politics by James W. Skillen Baker Academic

Reviewed by Tim Hoiland For decades James Skillen has been thinking deeply and carefully about politics and public policy from an evangelical perspective. Despite the culture wars raging to his right and to his left, he has managed to maintain a degree of nuance and sanity that is all too rare among political commentators, Christian or otherwise. Needless to say, he has earned the right to be heard. The founder and former executive director of the Center for Public Justice, a nonpartisan think tank that seeks to apply Christian principles to public policy issues, Skillen has long advocated a robust view of civic responsibility, believing that Christians are called to collaborate with others for the sake of the common good. He has written a number of books, including

Recharging the American Experiment: Principled Pluralism for Genuine Civic Community and The Scattered Voice: Christians at Odds in the Public Square. His latest work, The Good of Politics: A Biblical, Historical, and Contemporary Introduction, can best be understood as a natural continuation of his life’s work. Skillen begins the book by situating his exploration of political engagement in the story of God’s redemptive work in Scripture. He emphasizes a theology of the kingdom in which Jesus, who is Lord over all, is not out to obliterate kings and kingdoms but rather to establish true justice in their midst. He goes on to reflect on the political significance of the biblical teaching that all people are created in the image of God. As image bearers, we experience blessings and assume responsibilities, including political ones. The second part of the book provides a sweeping historical perspective on political thought, spanning from Polycarp, Constantine, Augustine, and Aquinas all the way to Calvin, Luther, and the Anabaptist reformers. The book concludes with a section of reflections on what it looks like for Christians to engage politics today. Skillen pays some attention to particular political issues—like marriage, family, economics, and the environment—but rather than prescribing political solutions, he’s far more interested in providing a framework for thinking about civic engagement and public policy. Skillen structures the book in this way for a very clear reason. He wants to show that despite everything that has changed in human society over thousands of years, certain principles remain constant: In the course of history, from the time of God’s covenant with Israel at Sinai until today, many things have changed, for better and for worse: the responsibilities of governing officials, the structure of states, the patterns of economic life, the obligations of family members, and most other conditions and institutions of human society. Nevertheless, the normative precepts of God still stand: love your neighbor, do justice, be merciful, be good stewards, walk humbly with God. The questions for us today

are essentially the same as those of ancient times, but we must try to answer them in circumstances of greater societal differentiation, a shrinking globe, and a rapidly expanding world population. Unfortunately, though the book checks in at around 200 pages, it tries to do too much. Its three sections—identified in the subtitle as “biblical, historical, and contemporary”—probably belong to three separate books. While it’s important to consider how the Bible’s teachings should inform our civic engagement, large portions of the first section seem tangential. And though there is much to learn from the ways political thought has developed across time and space, attempting to summarize two millennia of world history in fewer than 70 pages is inevitably going to be problematic. The third section, in which we turn to contemporary applications, likely gets closest to what readers would have anticipated from the beginning in a book framed as an “introduction” to thoughtful political engagement. Skillen is deeply influenced by the Dutch politician, journalist, and theologian Abraham Kuyper. At times the influence is overt, but more often it’s implied, as for instance when he makes a case for “principled pluralism” and when he argues for different institutions to be able to do what only they can without other institutions unnecessarily intruding— what Kuyper and his followers refer to as “sphere sovereignty.” At certain points he pits his own Kuyperian views in contrast to both the libertarian and liberal inheritors of John Locke’s political paradigm (loosely representing Republicans and Democrats in the contemporary United States). He also writes in contrast to the Anabaptist political vision of John Howard Yoder, as well as Yoder’s contemporary heirs like Stanley Hauerwas and Richard Hays. Like Skillen I believe that, despite all the evidence to the contrary, there is a good side to politics. And sharing the broad strokes of the Kuyperian view, I believe that political life is a legitimate Christian calling. Though there are ways that The Good of Politics could have been better, I have no doubt that this book will help many as they seek to navigate the messiness of political engagement as followers of Jesus and citizens of his already-but-not-yet kingdom.

Tim Hoiland is a writer, editor, and content strategist. He blogs at TimHoiland.com and tweets at @ timhoiland. This review first appeared at The Englewood Review of Books (EnglewoodReview.org) and appears here by kind permission.

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esXaton PAYING OUR RESPECTS As a young Christian in college, I read two magazines cover to cover: Cornerstone, the Rolling Stone-esque publication of the Jesus People USA, and PRISM, the membership magazine of Evangelicals for Social Action. Both of these voices stimulated my developing thoughts on what it meant to follow Jesus faithfully, as well as inspired me to live my new Christian life creatively and actively. They did this by consistently combining church, evangelism, justice, and the arts as they kept Jesus in the center of it all. And by so doing, they provided hope that one can be a Christian and avoid being either a Bible-toting, flag-waving, evangelism-only right-winger or a Bible-slamming, flag-burning, social-justice-only leftist. PRISM’s original tagline nailed it for me: “America’s Alternative Evangelical Voice.” On my surly days, I imagined the tagline being, “Making both the Right and the Left mad since 1994.” Cornerstone ceased its print publication in 2003. PRISM is doing the same in 2014, with the last issue being the one you have in your hand. Am I sad? Words cannot express! But am I open to other ways that this alternative voice can be heard? Of course, I am; I must be. In a world that seems more polarized than ever, we’re convinced that this voice, which heralds the gospel of God’s reign and all of its radical implications, needs to be heard more loudly than ever. So however the next generation accesses and interacts with Truth these days, ESA will be there. I am, however, genuinely sad that PRISM qua PRISM will no longer be. Just the other day, an incoming freshman at a nearby university recently shared with me his genuine, wide-eyed excitement upon stumbling upon an old issue. Not long afterward, a young couple in my church sent me the following text after reading the Summer 2014 issue: “We loved the magazine! Where do we sign up?” The enthusiasm of that freshman, as well as of that couple, reminded me of my own when I was first introduced to it. I remember the surge of adrenalin, the percolation of creative juices, the rise of hope to live a creative, relevant faith, and the avenues of action to change the world upon reading its maiden issue. Yes, PRISM did all of that for me, from the first issue (1994) to the last (2014). So you’ll forgive me if I don’t embrace the new too quickly (whatever “new” will mean for ESA’s communications going forward). I will move on, but not before paying my respects to a deeply reflective, aesthetically pleasing, life-changing magazine that has encouraged and challenged so many through the years. My deep appreciation goes out to Kristyn Komarnicki and all the amazing editors who went before her. PRISM magazine, on behalf of all those who have been inspired by your pages, I salute you.

Al Tizon is Ronald J. Sider Associate Professor of Holistic Ministry and co-president of Evangelicals for Social Action.

We’re hard at work—fighting poverty, creating safe dialogues that promote peace and reconciliation, mentoring young leaders to integrate evangelism and social justice, and training churches to engage in holistic ministry. We have big plans for the next five years to expand the work of the past 40. How will we do it? Together.

GIVE ME FIVE! 1. JOIN our community. We are justice-minded, Jesus-loving folks who want to live out the gospel in every part of our lives. Join us! Enjoy fresh new weekly content on the ESA website, join ESA’s Facebook page, and follow us on Twitter so you don’t miss any of the new resources we’re producing, presentations we’re giving, or campaigns we’re launching. 2. PRAY with us. We posts prayer requests on our ESA Facebook page every week. Praying together will help guide our efforts and strengthen our faith. 3. ENGAGE in our action alerts. ESA’s alerts mobilize our community to act on a wide range of issues, from building peace in the Middle East to fighting hunger in the U.S. Together we have the power to change the world. 4. GIVE to our mission. Commit to making an automatic monthly contribution to ESA. No amount is too small—if 1,000 people join us in giving, we can focus 100% of our time and energy on our faith-informed justice work. 5. INVITE friends. Ask five friends to join us on Facebook, and help us expand our reach. Together, in Christ, we can do all things.

JOIN US. Get started at EvangelicalsforSocialAction.org/GiveMe5

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If you don't take a Sabbath, something is wrong. You're doing too much, you're being too much in charge. You've got to quit, one day a week, and just watch what God is doing when you're not doing anything. Eugene H. Peterson

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Garth Hewitt Calls for a Revolution of LOVE Troubadour, gospel singer and protest singer Garth Hewitt has released nearly forty albums in his storied forty-year music career while championing social justice worldwide through his human rights organization, Amos Trust. The author of ten books on spirituality, social justice and the arts, Garth passionately believes it is time for people of all faiths to speak up and call for justice, especially for communities in developing or volatile nations. Learn more at ivpress.com/occupied.

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