Freedom from the Pull of “Everyone is Doing It”

“But Mom, everyone is doing it.” “But Dad, everyone has one, I am the only one who doesn’t.” Take a moment and think back to times you said those lines (or similar ones: wearing that, listening to that, going there, etc.). If you are a parent, take a moment and recall times your children said those lines. It takes tremendous resolve for a parent to stand firm, especially if the statement is basically true. Let’s imagine, however, that only half of the child’s peers had one, or were doing the activity in question. What changes? It is a lot easier for the parent to turn aside the plea by simply pointing out that reality. But even more significantly, the child would feel much less pressure and might not even make the plea in the first place. This dynamic is at the heart of what social psychologist Jonathan Haidt calls the collective action problem. . It is difficult to stand alone against a collective, but we can if we join with others. For instance, recognizing the significant mental health issues exacerbated by social media, especially for girls, a parent might want to keep their child off social media. But when the child says, “But Mom, everyone else is on social media” (and they are) it is a huge challenge. Haidt says, “but what if we join together and agree to not give our children smart phones until they are in high school and no social media until they are 16? Think how the dynamic would change if half the families in a town practiced that?” I heard Haidt say that on this podcast where he was talking about his new book, The Anxious Generation: How the Great Rewiring of Childhood Is Causing an Epidemic of Mental Illness . There is much more on the podcast, well worth listening to, but I want to think about just this one idea of responding to the collective action problem. What might happen if we practiced it more explicitly in churches, and not just in relation to smart phones?

Christian communities already support each other in standing against the current of society through collective action, even if the label is not used. Even just the reality of gathering on a Sunday or in small groups during the week is collective action. It is not what most of society does, but being part of a collective that does it makes it feel less abnormal. Giving hard earned money to the church is another example. Knowing others do it helps normalize an action that many in society would view as foolish. We could, however, be more explicit. Imagine what might happens if we explicitly named the contrast between the way of Mammon and the way of Jesus, and collectively took on the challenge to spend less and give more for a certain period of time—with regular times of reflecting and sharing about the experience.

Perhaps, however, rather than choosing some action I might suggest, the best thing for your community to do is to reflect on where you have the hardest time resisting forces of alienation. Reflect and share where the current has caught you up and swept you along in societal practices that hurt you and others—that keep you from living as God created you to live. Then, together decide on collective actions in line with the way of Jesus. Together you can more easily resist the current.

This reminds me of a quote I have shared in the last class of my ethics course for many years. Lois Barrett writes, “The church as an alternative community can make a powerful witness when it chooses to live differently from the dominant society even at just a few key points. An important task of the church is to discern what are those key points at which to be different from the evil of the world” (Missional Church, ed. Guder, 127).

Collective action in a church, however, can easily slide into bounded group judgmentalism. In my high school years, the collective of church youth did make it easier for me to stand against the current of cheating at school, stealing at work, or abusing alcohol. That was positive. But, as I recount in the first chapter of Centered-Set Church, my bounded-church mentality fostered judgmentalism towards those who behaved differently. That was negative. Therefore, let us wrap these collective actions in God’s love. First, we begin with a concept of ethics as gift. God calls us to live in counter cultural ways out of love for us and others. We work from a place of God’s love, not to earn God’s love. Second, assured of God’s mercy, we treat others and ourselves with grace when we fall short.

Reconciliation: Broadening its Meaning (a video)

When many Christians encounter the word “reconciliation” in Paul’s writing they think of it only in a vertical sense—with God. An article by Miroslav Volf sparked an idea of how we might help people see that Paul had both vertical and horizontal implications in mind. I explained my idea in class through quickly-drawn images on the whiteboard. Yuya Ono, a current MA New Testament student at Fresno Pacific Biblical Seminary, took my rough images and greatly improved them for this 12-minute video I made to explain my idea.

Volf’s article: “The Social Meaning of Reconciliation” Interpretation, April 2000, 158-172.

A shorter version of Volf’s essay is available at: https://digitalcommons.georgefox.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1726&context=ree

Heal the Divide: Turn Away from an Honor System that Wounds

Of the many things that create division in the United States today, Chris Arnade argues that the divide between front row and back row America we should pay more attention to is. He borrows the image from the classroom. Front row students are eager to learn and make sure the teacher knows they are learning. They want to achieve and get ahead. They leave home to accumulate educational credentials. They expect to continue moving from city to city to seek financial success—a shared goal and measuring stick whether one is from the right or left. In contrast whether because it was not their thing or because of barriers thrown up by realities beyond their control, the back row students do not flourish in school. They dream of graduating from high school, getting a stable job and raising a family in the community they grew up in. Today, however, many of their hometowns have hit hard times and good jobs are disappearing. 

After getting a Ph.D. and working on Wall Street for 20 years, Arnade stepped out of front row America. He quit his job and hung out with back row people. He first focused on a neglected corner of New York City and the drug addicts who lived there, then he traveled across the U. S., visiting towns and cities in decline. Taking a seat in the back row he found people, all across the country, who felt rejected and stigmatized.

I read his book, Dignity: Seeking Respect in Back Row America while also reading David deSilva’s book on honor and shame in the New Testament world. DeSilva’s book led me to write my previous blog on the importance of honoring other Christians’ efforts to stand against the current of societal ways. Arnade’s book led me to think about the church’s call to lessen the dignity deficit of those in back row America. Rather, however, than simply writing a blog that calls us to look for ways to shower them with respect, I want to first follow Arnade and David Brooks in asking how front row people, like myself, may inadvertently contribute to the dignity deficit.

In a recent column David Brooks asked, “What if We’re the Bad Guys Here?” Brooks, a conservative and never-Trumper, states that people in his circles view Trump supporters as the problem. He does not fully reject that, but proposes that he and his peers are a greater part of the problem than they acknowledge. I recommend the full essay, but will quote just a few lines that relates to what Arnade describes in his book:

“The ideal that we’re all in this together was replaced with the reality that the educated class lives in a world up here and everybody else is forced into a world down there. Members of our class are always publicly speaking out for the marginalized, but somehow we always end up building systems that serve ourselves. The most important of those systems is the modern meritocracy. We built an entire social order that sorts and excludes people on the basis of the quality that we possess most: academic achievement.”

Similarly, Arnade writes, “The educational meritocracy is a well-intentioned system designed to correct massive injustices that enslaved, demeaned, constricted, and ranked people based on the color of their skin, sexuality, and gender. Yet in attempting to correct a nasty and explicit exclusion, we have replaced it with an exclusion that narrowly defines success as all about how much you learn and then earn” (234). He observes that the back row is left with little to take pride in that doesn’t need credentials—credentials they do not have (212).

I have lived the reality that Arnade describes. Some years ago on a visit to my hometown, front row Mark, with all my degrees and my professor job, walked down the block to visit my high school bus-stop friend Carlos. He fit Arnade’s back row description—still living on the same street and working at the same grocery store he had in high school. Yet, I was not sensitive to Carlos’s dignity deficit; it was not on my radar. However, in the even harsher status divisions in Honduras I did recognize people’s dignity deficit. I sought to pour honor into those with lower status. For instance, I knew that mechanics, doing manual labor and covered with grease, had low status compared to office workers. I intentionally regularly commended Edgardo, my mechanic, on his knowledge about cars that far surpassed mine. Aguinaldo was a partner in ministry and expert in regenerative agriculture methods—both in practicing them and teaching them to others. Yet, society saw him as just a peasant farmer with little formal education. Whenever he visited us or we visited him I would ask for tips on my compost pile and garden. I sought to counter shaming societal voices and called him my teacher, my agronomist. 

I did well to affirm Edgardo and Aguinaldo as I did. Let us, with intentionality, do what I did and look for ways to affirm and show respect to back row people. Yet, through the lens of Brooks’s and Arnade’s words I now see my efforts in a different light. Note what I did in each case. I sought to give them front row credentials. It was like I was giving them an honorary degree. I do not regret those actions. I urge you to look for ways to do the same. But let’s do more than that.

As Arnade spent more time with and listened to back row Americans his perspectives shifted. At first, he saw those languishing economically in dying towns as lacking in imagination and initiative. (“Why don’t they leave and go somewhere they could get a better job!?”) But with time he came to recognize that many had intentionally decided to stay. Other values, such as caring for family members or connections in the community, drove their decision to stay. Living successfully according to those particular values does not, however, provide credentials or a sense of pride in the front row meritocracy that Brooks and Arnade describe.

My giving “honorary degrees” to Edgardo and Aguinaldo was a good thing. Rather, however, than just working to give them morsels of dignity according to the norms of the front row meritocracy, let us work to dismantle the meritocracy machine that is wounding them.

I do not mean by that to trash all the components of the system. I am an educator. I am grateful for all I have learned as a student and the opportunities I have had to teach. I think we do well to enable people to have educational opportunities and gain credentials. What I feel called to dismantle is the monopoly that the meritocracy machine has on so many people’s conceptions of success and thriving. Breaking up that monopoly does not mean abandoning the all the values, but relativizing them.

My sense is that for those of us in the front row, the values of the meritocracy machine are so much the water we swim in that we often do not recognize how they shape theway we evaluate others. Therefore, it will require intentionality to affirm values not honored by the meritocracy machine. As followers of Jesus, we have an advantage. We have a ready supply of alternative values we can honor in others and they are values as likely to be found in the back row as in the front. 

How do we end the deep sense of division and the rejection and stigmatization felt by those in the back row? We can’t get credentials for them all, not even honorary degrees. We can, however, look at them through the lens of the beatitudes and the Sermon on the Mount and affirm them for ways their lives line up with the values of the Kingdom of God. We can invite them into a church community where in Jesus there is neither front row people nor back row people (Gal. 3:28).

Arnade began his journey through back row America as an atheist. After years of talking with back row people, who often took him to their churches, he shifted—not yet a believer, but pondering. He had seen the value of faith and especially of churches—often small storefront churches. He observed that churches were the only places on the streets that regularly treated back row people like humans and where they did not need credentials to be accepted. So, if an atheist author sees the church as an antidote to the shame and rejection of the meritocracy machine, how about us? Yet, a key observation: the churches he visited were generally filled with and led by back row people. A church with many front row people has the same potential, perhaps even greater potential, to heal the shaming wounds of the meritocracy machine, but also greater challenges to becoming the sort of environment Arnade describes.

Let us intentionally shift from the values of front row society as we look for things to affirm in others. And, let us bar the values of the meritocracy machine from entering our churches and instead recognize the great potential churches have to heal division through being spaces where people are honored for living out the values of Jesus rather than possessing meritocracy credentials.

Addendum: An example of a front row person changing and viewing someone through the lenses of Jesus values rather than meritocracy values.

In the midst of her career as an economics professor Mary Hirschfeld converted and became a Jesus follower. She then completed an additional Ph. D. in theology. I shared a parable from her book, Aquinas and the Market in an earlier blog. In that book she describes coming to know Hector, a prominent member of her Catholic parish. She writes, “As it turns out, he was also a gardener at the college where I worked. Until then, I had thoughtlessly paid no mind to the gardeners and janitors who worked hard to maintain a beautiful campus. I simply failed to value work that had little status in society. . . But as I came to know Hector, I came to realize that economic and social status is a very poor measure of a person's worth. Hector was a wise leader of our parish community. Surely the Christian call to deal with poverty extends to the demand that we recognize the value of what people do apart from the incomes they happen to earn by doing it. Yes, we can pay gardeners more. But a big part of what matters is the respect we accord them and the cultivation of our ability to see the wealth—which is the true sort of wealth—that the poor have to offer us” (187).

Let's Honor Each Other More

Think back to your junior high or high school days. What group were you in? What group did you want to be in? Can you recall a time when you felt not just “in” but had a strong sense of others approving of what you had done, what you were wearing, or what you said? You probably did not use the word “honor,” but that is what your peers did—they honored you. We could say that what the group affirmed is what it considered honorable. How about the opposite, can you recall a time when you did not wear the right clothes, did the wrong thing, or said the wrong thing? Can you recall a time when you, or your whole group, were excluded or looked down upon by another group? In those moments you likely felt shame. If you made a list of behaviors that a group encouraged or discouraged, that would be the group’s honor code. All societies have some expressions of an honor-shame dynamic, others are saturated with honor-shame dynamics. That was the case in the cultures we find in the Bible.

In a sense we could say, that in contrast to my high school experience of peer pressure in parts of my life, all of life in the New Testament world was lived within the dynamics of honor and shame. From birth people were shaped to be concerned about what others thought of them and to live out what others see as honorable. To compare honor-shame cultures to my high school experience is not imply they are less developed. All societies have means of influencing people to embrace and live out the values of that society. More individualistic cultures use means of influence that are different, but not more advanced or better than collectivist honor-shame cultures.

Let’s return to high school peer pressure but imagine it in a bit different way. What if rather than various groups having different values and standards, most everyone’s definition of desirable behavior and appearance was the same except for one small group that did the opposite and refused to dress like everyone else. When there are various groups, people have more space to live differently without shame. But imagine the ridicule and shame this handful of teenagers would experience if everyone else in the high school shared values and behaviors that this group did not live out. That captures the experience of Christians in the first-century Roman world. Although it was a diverse society, in broad swaths of life most people shared a common conception of what was honorable, who had high status and who did not. Like high school groups, society shamed and excluded people who did not comply. Their motivation to shame and pressure others was especially great in areas people sensed that dishonorable behavior threatened the peace and security of the town or city—like not participating in religious and cultic practices.

David deSilva, author of Honor, Patronage, Kinship, and Purity: Unlocking New Testament Culture, invites us to imagine the immense shaming pressure a group of 30 Christians would have felt as they adopted definitions of honorable behavior in tension with those held by the other 150,000 people in Ephesus. Biblical writers recognized this reality; deSilva states that New Testament authors spend significant amounts of their letters shoring up Christians suffering from shame, exclusion, and pressure from the dominant society. The apostles do not simply hand down a list of rules for living the way of Jesus. They work to develop an alternative court of reputation that affirms and honors Christians for following the way of Jesus and offsets the shame they feel in the societal court of reputation. 

Let us learn from the example of the New Testament authors. It is not enough to simply make pronouncements about the way of Jesus. Let us take more seriously the ways societal “peer pressure” pulls people away from the path of Jesus. 

First, like New Testament authors, we must recognize ways the honor code of society differs from the honor code of Jesus. Think for instance of how advertisements seek to honor some actions and shame others, and how they are in tension with Kingdom values; or, how social media peer pressure shapes behavior. Of course, like different groups in high school, different social media tribes will have different values or honor codes. Think of who is honored with high status in your societal context and what behaviors and attitudes that reinforces. Many of you live in settings where greater respect is given to those who affirm an individualistic do-your-own-thing spirituality and morality than to those who identify as Jesus followers and attend a church.

It is not enough, however, to just recognize the competing honor codes. Let us also follow the New Testament authors in actively building an alternative court of reputation. To not do so would be like a high school group that stated how their values differed from other groups but did nothing to affirm those who complied or shame those who did not. If no status is gained, if one does not feel more sense of being “in,” why embrace the values?—especially if another group would shame you for those behaviors. 

What are ways we can, in a centered way, more regularly honor and affirm people for following Jesus and going against the current? What are regular practices your Christian fellowship might adopt to counter the shaming pressures people feel to go with the current? I urge you to join me and pray for the Spirit to guide you to see opportunities this week to affirm others for their against-the current actions and attitudes.

 1 Apollos Watered Podcast, #195, David deSilva  July 25, 2023, minute 30. https://apolloswatered.org/episode/195-are-we-living-for-biblical-honor-or-worldly-success-pt-1-david-desilva/  I recommend deSilva’s book, Honor, Patronage, Kinship, and Purity, and the podcast.

Learning From the Trees

On a recent backpacking trip, I spent a couple hours observing Sierra Juniper trees. It was a time of wonder and reflection. Part way through the time I asked, “what might I learn from these trees?” Rather than writing about the insights, I made a seven-minute video that includes numerous pictures of these amazing trees and lessons I learned from them. Watch the video here.

Centered-Church Story: My Expectations Were Too Low

The communion service moved me to tears. Being back in Honduras and worshiping with the people of Amor Fe y Vida church would be moving enough, not to mention that Arely Cantor, the pastor serving communion, had participated as a teenager in the studies of Galatians I led in that church in 1992 and 1993. It was, however, “Carmen” coming forward to receive the elements that especially moved me. It struck me that if the church had not worked to shift from a bounded to centered approach after our studying Galatians together, Carmen would have remained seated all these years while others from the church went forward. She would have remained on the shameful side of the bounded-church’s line.

As I recount on pages 44-45 in Centered-Set Church Carmen faithfully attended church but was not allowed to participate in the Lord’s Supper or serve in any leadership role because she was not married to her common-law husband. The study of Galatians propelled the church to shift away from bounded line-drawing. Church leaders visited Carmen and discerned that she was clearly oriented toward Jesus the center. She wanted to get married but her partner refused. She had been faithful to him during their, at that time, 17 years together. They invited Carmen to participate fully in the church. Today she serves on the church council. I have often reflected on and celebrated this positive fruit of Amor Fe y Vida’s centered approach. But I had not before imagined the alternative. What if Amor Fe y Vida was still bounded? Carmen would have lived draped in shame all these years. Tears came to my eyes as I saw her standing before me freed from that shame and receiving communion.

I felt even greater emotion when I saw who stood behind Carmen, next to receive communion —her husband “Rafael.” 

Although Carmen had been faithful to Rafael, he had several affairs over the years. Carmen had requested numerous times that they get married. He said “no” every time. She decided to stop asking, but prayed all the more that he would change his ways and marry her. Four years ago, at his initiative, he suggested they get married. Although he did not yet consider himself a Christian, he declared that Amor Fe Vida would be his church and wanted a church wedding. In terms of the centered-set church diagram would could say he was far from the center, but his arrow had begun to turn—slowly. He occasionally visited the church, but a year and a half ago he started coming regularly, made a confession of belief in Jesus, and 6 weeks ago he was baptized. After communion, during a time of sharing, Rafael stood and expressed his gratitude for being part of this church. The pastor told me he does this regularly. Rafael has said that since walking with Jesus he no longer feels the pull of pursuing other women. Although older and suffering from diabetes, Rafael is eager for opportunities to serve in the church.

I was deeply moved, but also challenged by seeing the married, baptized Rafael. The reality is that although I have told Carmen’s story numerous times, I have never thought about nor prayed for Rafael. I celebrated that Amor Fe y Vida’s centered approach had freed Carmen from shamed status and freed her to more fully serve. But when telling the story I had never said, “and let us pray that the gravitational attraction of Jesus, and the centered approach of Amor Fe y Vida will pull Rafael into a relationship with Jesus that will change his relationship with Carmen. Rafael’s standing before me receiving communion challenges me to have even greater expectations of the potential of a centered approach and, especially, of the transformative power of the God of the center.

Mario, the former pastor of Amor Fe y Vida that had led their transition from bounded to centered told me of other stories of the fruit of a centered approach. “Elena’s” marriage had broken and ended. When she remarried, her bounded church shamed her and ended her leadership and teaching roles in the church. Later, however, other leaders discerned her Jesus-centeredness and invited her to once again teach Sunday school. She later became the leader of the entire Sunday school, and eventually planted a church.

Mario is currently involved in a church plant himself in Talanga, his hometown near Tegucigalpa. It meets in a home. As Mario described it more I realized it was a church of refugees from bounded churches. Most all of them had not been attending church. Half the group were involved in a marriage that in one way or another did not meet the common Honduran bounded church standard. They tired of their shamed status and left their churches. A few of them had visited Amor Fe y Vida and asked Mario to start a church like that in Talanga. Do you know any bounded church refugees that you might invite to experience the life-giving experience of a centered church like these people in Talanga?

A number of years ago Iglesia Amor Fe y Vida changed their name as part the process of becoming legally recognized—another church had already filed under that name. Today their name is Viviendo en Amor y Fe, but I continue to use their original name to aid readers in making the connection with the church mentioned in my books.

Our Celebrity Problem

What is the difference between fame and celebrity? According to Katelyn Beaty, someone is famous for doing something, for a life well lived. A celebrity is known for their well-knownness, for a brand well cultivated (8, 13). In her book, Celebrities for Jesus: How Personas, Platforms, and Profits are Hurting the Church, she observes that celebrity is a uniquely modern phenomenon fostered first through newspapers, later film and television, and now the internet and social media. Mass media gives the illusion of intimacy with celebrities, but it is an illusion (12). Celebrities have social power without proximity (17). She argues that the tools of mass media are not neutral, or as I say, are not passive. “The primary functions of mass media are to entertain us and to get us to buy things. Thus, modern celebrities—including those in the church—feed the cycles of entertainment and material consumption” (12). The tools used influence the message transmitted by them, bringing that message into the realm of entertainment and consumption.

 The book gives significant attention to how Christian celebrities gain their status, how their celebrity hurts them and others, and how it makes it easier for them to abuse power. Similar to the excellent podcast series about Mark Driscoll, The Rise and Fall of Mars Hill, Beaty does not just focus on the celebrities themselves as the problem, but also on how other Christians enable and foster celebrities. As she states, the problem is not just with them, but with us (60). “The American church has overall mimicked celebrity culture rather than challenge it. We have too many institutions built around personalities” (19).

 She likens the allure of celebrity to the allure of the ring in Lord of the Rings. It is not a spiritually neutral tool. She observes that Jesus refused to do good things in the wrong way. Beaty advocates for a return to the small, the quiet, the uncool, the ordinary. “We must practice proximity—Valuing flesh-and-blood relationships over mediated ones, choosing intimacy over fandom, and letting others into the real contours of our behind-the-scenes lives, where our vulnerabilities and weaknesses are on display” (168-69). I appreciate that Beaty acknowledges her complicity in celebrity culture—both in contributing to the celebrity status of others and her own limited celebrity. Although not a major celebrity, she probably has more celebrity status than anyone reading this blog. Yet, let’s not let ourselves off the hook too quickly. As she states, “If people follow you on social media, you’re at least swimming in celebrity waters” (172). I will share some reflections the book provoked in me, and urge you to consider as well, what action steps it calls for.

 Beaty observed that people near a celebrity get refracted light and feel a bit of celebrity themselves. This can contribute to them putting inordinate and inappropriate effort into keeping the celebrity on their pedestal and continuing to support the celebrity even when there is strong evidence the person has major failings. I have not been in a celebrity's inner circle, so I do not think I have done the above. But, I recognize I am attracted to the refracted light of the famous and celebrities. As an enneagram 3, it is a way I can fill my longing for success. I have become more honest with myself about this in recent years. When I feel the pull, and recognize I am seeking to get close to someone primarily because they are a someone, I now stop. I remind myself that I am loved and embraced by God. From that place of acceptance, I find it easier to not chase the refracted light.

 Beaty is now the lead acquisitions editor for Brazos Press. To her credit, she includes a chapter in the book about how the Christian publishing industry has contributed to the problematic rise of celebrities. It “has added jet fuel to the problem of Christian celebrity” (96). Increasingly, publishers base decisions on what to publish on the platform of the author (number of followers, number in their congregation, etc.) rather than the quality of the book manuscript. She said this is especially true of Christian publishers that have been bought by multinational corporations. The platform pressure is present with other publishers as well. For instance, IVP Academic accepted my centered-set book for publication even though I do not have much of a platform. (About 400 people have subscribed to this blog.) IVP is not as beholden to platform pressure as some for-profit publishers. Yet much of the marketing guidance they give to all InterVarsity Press authors revolves around building a platform. It is seen as a key way of selling books today.

 As I sat staring at IVP’s suggestions of ways for an author to build a following, my recurring thought was: this is not about me. I do not want to promote Mark Baker; I want to promote the centered approach. Of course, the two overlap. I am the one doing the podcast interview on the book tomorrow. But I made an intentional decision to make a new website focused just on centered-set church rather than a new page on a Mark Baker website. I made an intentional decision to not work at building my platform and following but to keep the focus on the centered approach. So, for instance, rather than inviting people to sign up for updates on Mark Baker, I invited people to sign up only for notification of when the centered-set videos and my book on Galatians and the centered approach would be released.

 I feel a bit uncomfortable with the previous paragraph. It sounds too much like I hold myself up as the stellar example of turning away from celebrity, and, implicitly, point my finger in judgment at those who do work at building their platform. So, a couple of caveats. First, there is a Mark Baker website. It is about as flashy as you would expect from someone who just stopped using an overhead projector a few years ago, but it is there. Second, if I was 40 and had several other books in mind, rather than 65, I probably would be giving more thought than I am to gathering readers for future books not just the present ones. I can easily imagine I would follow the platform-building advice. I share my experience not as a categorical statement against seeking followers to promote one’s work, but as an example of the possibility of at times resisting the current of the day. At times it is better to not adopt the default approach, and it is possible to do so.

 I had made that decision before reading Beaty’s book. She led me to press deeper. She called for a greater focus on relationships, not just as a way of protecting from the negatives of celebrity lack of proximity, but also because it is the way of Jesus. She reflected on how relationships with ordinary, non-celebrity, Christians have kept her in the faith. In the world of celebrity, and in my Eneagram-3 mind, writing a book is of more significance than a discipling relationship with a few individuals. Jesus opted for the latter. I felt chastened and challenged. It is not that I repent of having dedicated so much time and energy to writing books, nor that I am putting aside the book project I am currently working on. Books have value. Although some Enneagram-3- grasping-for-status certainly fueled my desire to write my first book, principally I wanted to write a book because God had used books in such transformative ways in my life. I desired to make that sort of contribution to others. But I do feel challenged in two ways. First, to reorient and give relations with others and discipleship the prized position they merit. Second, her book spurred me to think about how to treat the books I am currently promoting, Centered-Set Church and Freedom from Religiosity and Judgmentalism, in more relational ways. For instance, in the evaluation of the book's success, let comments from individuals carry more weight than sales numbers. (Perhaps, for instance, to not immediately go to numbers when I answer the question: "How is your book doing?" And perhaps more importantly, internally do not immediately go to sales numbers. Pray for me--easier for me easier said than done.) I also want to prioritize relational approaches in my use and promotion of the books.

 What might Beaty's insights and observations mean for you?

The Cross Upends the Status-Grasping Ways of Society

May I never boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, through which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world (Gal 6:14 NIV).

 Should we really boast about the cross? I grew up in a culture that looks negatively on boasting. Therefore, I have not paid much attention to Paul’s use of the word here. I didn’t think he actually went around boasting. I assumed he just uses the word here to connect and contrast with the previous two verses and the boasting of others. But then I read a dissertation on honor-shame and Galatians by pastor and New Testament scholar David Harvey.

 He points out that, like today, in Paul’s time boasting was public self-aggrandizement. But, unlike today it was socially acceptable. Boasting was to make a claim for honor. Think of it like a group of children coming to adults and proudly saying, “Look what we did!” They are seeking affirmation. Similarly, in Paul’s time boasts were submitted to the court of public opinion. If they were accepted, the boasting individual or group gained honor. In the Roman world boasting also was a tool for shaping the behavior of others. Returning to the example of children, suppose you were a child playing with a separate group but you observed the positive response the other children received. You would then know that what they did is something that would gain praise. The positive response to the boasting of one group guided others to know what was honorable behavior (Harvey, 93-97).

 So, perhaps Paul really meant what he wrote. He did boast in the cross. He did so in order to make a statement about his honor status that invited others to embrace the same definition of honor. Although best for us not to boast in the 21rst English sense of the word, let’s not just run past this word. How might we join Paul in accomplishing the same things as his 1rst century boasting did?

 To put the word “boast” in its first century context, however, immediately brings up the incongruity of linking it with a cross. In the Roman world if one had any association with a crucified one the common action would be to hide or deny the connection, not boast about it. Many today, understandably, emphasize the physical torment of crucifixion, but in the first century it was the shame of crucifixion that was most feared. The fact that crosses, including Jesus’, were placed near very public roads underscores the shaming intent. It was a public spectacle designed to degrade.

 Why then does Paul make this oxymoronic statement about boasting in the cross? If we think of the cross just in terms of forgiveness of sins and individual salvation, it might be hard to explain. But in Galatians the cross is that and more; it is also the means “of a value-neutralizing social revolution” (Harvey, 227) (1:4; 2;16; 3:13; 3:27-28). At the cross Jesus did the exact opposite of what Paul has accused the agitators of doing in the previous two verses (6:12-13). Rather than grasping for honor for himself, he repeatedly risked his reputation in order to express loving acceptance to the shamed and excluded—to the point of death on a shameful cross. His death exposed the honor systems of the day as distorted from the ways of God. The cross and resurrection not only exposed these systems but turned them on their head and provided freedom from them (Gal 1:4; Col 2:15). Through the resurrection God validated the way of Jesus as the truly honorable way. With this broader meaning of the cross in mind we can understand “the phrase ‘boast in the cross’ as an attempt to define Christ’s shameful crucifixion as a paradigm for honourable behaviour for the Galatian Christians” (Harvey, 181). Within the new honor system formed by the cross of Christ, Paul’s statement is not paradoxical. Shame is relative to a group’s definition of honor. The paradox is not within Paul’s boasting in the cross, it is that the bounded other missionaries he critiques in the previous verses are still seeking status in categories of differentiation dissolved by Christ’s death.

 When we allow “boasting” to have the sense of staking an honor claim and including an element of instruction about what is honorable, we can see that in the few words of this verse Paul is communicating key elements of this letter to the Galatians. Through Christ he, and the Galatians too, can be free from the bounded-group-status-grasping way of the world and embrace a radically different concept of honor. And it truly is radical. Paul is boasting, staking his identity, in the cross, something that undermines status differences. I invite you to pause for a moment and reflect on what that implies about a centered approach. It points to it not just being a retooling of bounded or fuzzy, it is a radically different third way. There is still honor, still a group sense of identity, of belonging, but it is of a totally different character—the bounded group’s honor system turned upside down.

 It is upside down because at its foundation a centered group is about God acting, not human actions. It is not about Paul, his ethnic group, his religious tradition. It is about God’s gracious action and trusting in that saving action (2:16) enough to live according to this way instead of the world’s status systems.

 The cross of Jesus opens up a radically different alternative to these status games. We do not have to put others down or live up to twisted standards of success and status in order to have a sense of value and identity. Through the cross, Jesus exposed and tore down one system and replaced it with another. Let us live according to the honorable ways defined by the cross.

 • What are different ways status is measured, gained, and lost in the society you live in today? What are the implications for you of taking seriously Paul’s proclamation that these distinctions have been dissolved by the cross? (both in the sense of release from shame for not measuring up, and in the sense of turning away from judging others according to these standards).

 • What does Jesus’ honor code look like today? What types of behaviors/attitudes are worthy of “boasting” about within the upside-down honor code?

 The above is an adaptation of portions from pages 233-37, 244-45, Mark D. Baker, Freedom from Religiosity and Judgmentalism: Studies in Paul’s Letter to the Galatians, Kindred Productions, 2023.

 David S. Harvey, “Face in Galatians: ‘Boasting in the Cross’ as Reconfigured Honour in Paul’s Letter,” Ph. D. Thesis, University of Manchester, 2016.

Even Better than TV

Imagine slicing through a big ripe juicy tomato from a backyard garden and putting the slice on your sandwich. Imagine the anticipation you feel of biting into that sandwich. Now, in the middle of winter, imagine slicing through a pale, uniformly-round, juiceless tomato. It was picked green on a huge tomato farm in south Florida and made the long journey to your grocery store. You may still be glad to add the slices to your sandwich, but it is not the same experience. They are so different perhaps we should not even give the same name to both. In other areas of life do we too often settle for the equivalent of factory-farm tomatoes?

Over the years I have read hundreds of students’ reflections on TV watching and screen use. Although there has been great diversity in their habits, one line shows up repeatedly. They say something like: “I get home and watch some videos to unwind,” or “at end of the day before going to bed I watch a couple of shows to relax and decompress.”

After reading about this use of TV/videos so many times, last year I asked the important question: does it actually work? This is what I found.

Study results are mixed. Yes, it can do good things to your brain waves, but it depends on what you are watching. Some shows and videos increase stress or rev you up. So, a qualified yes. But what if we ask another question: Are TV shows the best means of decompressing and lowering stress? Is scrolling through videos a very good way to do so? Here, the answer is clear. No.

What are better ways? One researcher stated you would be better served by just closing your eyes and breathing. Here are some other ideas adapted from this article by Jessica Stillman.

 Writing - screens increase the chatter in your brain, writing decreases it. Research affirms that journaling is an excellent way to clear your mind, reduce anxiety, and sleep better.

 Nature – Studies also show that spending time in nature helps reduce stress and anxiety and increase creativity and empathy. A hike in the wilderness is great, but just taking a few minutes focused on some flowers in your yard or a walk in a park is beneficial.

 Prayer/worship – For reasons you can imagine. What are reasons that prayer and worship would help one decompress?

 Exercise – Again, no explanation is needed here. We know this is true. The next one might not be as obvious . . .

 Reading is better for stress relief than TV/videos. 

I want to make clear, I am not totally opposed to relaxing via TV. I like watching a movie on Friday evening after a long week. And there are other appropriate reasons for watching videos or TV besides just stress relief. I enjoyed watching a TV show with family last night. But I do exhort you to not have screens be your default for stress relief and unwinding. It is easy, but not the best. The above alternatives are all like juicy backyard vine-ripened tomatoes. Why settle for industrial-picked-green tomatoes when the juicy alternative is right at hand?

Less is More

Mary Hirschfeld, theologian and economist, tells the following parable about two families she calls the Aardvarks and the Warthogs. Both families enjoy music and both make their living as potters. The Aardvarks decide that a grand piano would best enable them to pursue their musical interests. They work hard and each month set aside money toward purchasing the piano. After they buy the piano, they cut back their hours at their pottery shop so they can enjoy the piano. They work enough to cover their needs but no more than that. They become good musicians and invite others into their home to join in the music.

The Warthogs follow the same plan. They too are pleased when they have saved enough to buy a grand piano. “But it occurs to them that it would be even better to supplement the piano with a cello and a violin. That way they could play those lovely trios by Schubert. So they go back to their pottery shop and keep working” (126). They are glad to bring those two instruments into their home, but immediately think how wonderful it would be to branch out musically and play jazz too. “So they earn enough money to get a saxophone, a trumpet, and a bass. Now their house is a bit crowded, and so they decide they need to get a larger house. And so they redouble their efforts at the pottery shop. And on it goes. At the end of the day, the Warthogs never do have much time for music; their hours are mostly spent making more pots” (126).

 Hirschfeld observes that although the Warthogs saw themselves as pursuing music, seeking more income ends up being the real good they pursue. She states that economists categorize things like what the Aardvarks and Warthogs bought as instrumental goods because their purpose is to help us achieve desired ends. Thus economists consider wealth instrumental, a tool. Yet Hirschfeld argues that “instrumental goods can only remain instrumental if they are in service of clearly specified ends” (126). For too many today wealth itself is pursued as if it is the end, not a means to an end.

 I will let the parable function as a parable and let it speak to you rather than listing the meanings and connections that I or Hirschfeld see. I will share just one response her parable led me to think about.

 We could say this is a parable about resisting the lie of consumerism that more wealth and the things it can buy produce a better life. That is an aspect of the parable. But why were the Aardvarks able to resist? It was not just a commitment to resist the lie. Rather they had clarity on what they valued. So too with us, there is value in saying to each other: resist the lies of Mammon and consumerism. Even more important is to develop alternative values to what Mammon tells us we should value.

 What are values you can foster that with growth will make it much easier to ignore the empty call by Mammon to pursue wealth itself as a value?

 How might the Spirit be calling you to begin a conversation about this with others in your family and faith community?

From: Mary Hirschfeld, Aquinas and the Market: Toward a Humane Economy, 2018