Bringing Ellul to the City Council

Not many Mennonites run for public office; not many influenced by Ellul run for public office. Robb Davis is an Ellulian Mennonite and the mayor of Davis, California. Check out how his being a Mennonite who reads Ellul influenced the way he ran for office and how he approaches the role. Mark quoted him in the recent blogs on consumerism and reorientation. Here is a longer interview of him by Mark, just published in The Ellul Forum. Davis displays character and speaks with a tone very different than the current U.S. presidential campaign.
 

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Published in The Ellul Forum 58 (Fall 2016)  https://journals.wheaton.edu/index.php/ellul

“Bringing Ellul to the City Council: A Council Member Reflects on how Ellul has Guided his Work”

Interview of Robb Davis by Mark D. Baker

 

Robb Davis holds a master’s degree in public health and a Ph.D. in population dynamics from Johns Hopkins University. He has over twenty years’ experience in international development in the field of maternal and child health and nutrition. He was the executive director of the Mennonite Central Committee. He contributed an article to The Ellul Forum (#46). He is fluent in French and reads Ellul in French. He was elected to the Davis, California, city council in June, 2014 and began serving as mayor of Davis in July 2016. In addition to his role in city government he also dedicates a significant amount of time to work on issues related to homelessness and restorative justice in relation to youth crime.

Mark D. Baker, professor of theology and mission at Fresno Pacific Biblical Seminary, interviewed Robb on July 7, 2016 as part of the conference of the International Jacques Ellul Society. What follows is an edited version of excerpts of that session, including two of the questions from the audience.

 

Mark:  It would be surprising to many that an enthusiastic reader of Jacques Ellul would run for political office. How did Ellul’s work factor into your decision to run for city council?

Robb: I’ll start by that saying Ellul arguably is the reason I became involved in city politics. Maybe even more surprising than my claiming to have run for office on the basis of something Ellul said, which many might consider to be paradoxical, is that I am also a Mennonite. I wasn’t just trying to break some molds. I had spent about 25 years travelling the world. I was a technician, dispensing wisdom to many villages and communities all over the planet—45 different countries. I started reading Ellul, and Patrick Deneen, and they started challenging me about living and acting locally.  I realized that I didn’t know anything about my hometown Davis, California. So about 7 years ago, I stopped travelling. I decided not to get in an airplane anymore. And that changed everything, and not always in a good way. Because when you make a decision like that, all of a sudden everything that your identity is tied up in is no longer there. People in my hometown didn’t know me. When I started digging into my hometown I realized that the brokenness that I had experienced other places was actually more profound in Davis, California. We had a veneer of privilege and beauty, and not too far below the surface we had serious problems of addiction and homelessness and racism and exclusion. And the more I got involved, the more I realized that acting locally is really not fun. I didn’t really want to look at it. I wanted to leave, actually, but I stuck it out. While staffing an overnight shelter I saw firsthand how we fail as a society to treat mental health, how we fail as a society to deal with addiction, and how these things are syndromes that leave people broken, and our solutions are to toss the problems over to the nonprofits to try to figure out a solution. So what I want to say about that experience, and where I really drew from Ellul quite a bit, was the idea of the flourishing of intermediating entities outside the state. The state was incapable, even at a local level, of really effectively dealing with these problems. Into the interstices into the breach, came these small organizations. My commitment at that time was to try to work with them to make them stronger, to help them plan, to try to take some things I’d learned in my trips around the world, and to try to bring them into the community. And of course in a situation like that sometimes you do that for a while, and you’re asked to be on a commission, you’re asked to be on a task force, and then somebody knocks on your door one day and says, “Maybe it would be useful for you to run for office.” I didn’t believe that I should or could do it. And my main concern was some things that were raised today at this conference about power. Could I go into politics and authentically bring some solutions? The thing that pushed me towards the decision was the idea that perhaps in that role, and this gets back to power, I could encourage the flourishing of these intermediating agencies in the community. I could encourage them. Because one reality of being a political leader is, when you pick up the phone and say to someone, “Come to a meeting,” they’ll come. They will. I thought, “Maybe I can bring people around the table who aren’t talking to each other, maybe I can bring the school district together with the police department, together with the city, to do a restorative justice program.”

Another key factor that led me to run was born out of something I read in Ellul: “A key fact of this civilization is that more and more, sin has become collective and that the individual is constrained to participate in it.”  (Ellul, Présence au monde modern, 1948, p. 19—Robb’s translation). I was talking to a friend of mine, and we realized that if we had someone in office who was engaging in regular confession about our participation in that collective sin, maybe that would be helpful to a community. And so I’ve tried to make it my practice to be confessional.

Mark: How did Ellul influence your campaign, how you ran?

Robb: In The Technological Society Ellul, commenting about propaganda, states: “Whether technique acts to the advantage of the dictator or the democracy it makes use of the same weapons, acts on the individual, manipulates his subconscious in identical ways, and in the end leads to the formation of exactly the same type of human being” (375). What I saw is that people running for office even locally were using propaganda for very, very specific ends, which is the building of allegiance toward themselves. They have around them people using propaganda to do one basic thing: build allegiance toward that figurehead. Why? Because it’s a lot easier to raise money when you can invite someone to pay $300 a plate at a table around a leader than it is to give it to some disembodied political party or university. So right out of the gate, I was being told, “You’ve got to sell yourself. This is about you, Robb. This is about your image; this is about what you’ve done in the community.” And I knew I couldn’t do that. I mean, I could have done that, but I felt like that was idolatry. That the real problem with propaganda is that it creates allegiance towards something that’s not God. And I am a follower of Jesus. So I struggled with that.

When I was discerning whether to run or not, through a long series of conversations others helped me understand that it came down to two things. Could I run a campaign where I could be honest about my limits? And the limits of political power? I brought that commitment into the campaign, but my campaign team said, “Do not ever talk about that.” I wrote an essay that I put out on a local news blog, without telling my campaign team, and it was entitled, “I’m going to disappoint you.” What I was trying to say is, “you are projecting on me many, many hopes. You are projecting on me your desires. I’m going to disappoint you. Because there’s no way I can fulfill those needs.” So that decision to not listen to my campaign team, and to actually get them upset, was an intentional act to try to communicate that I did not have solutions to these problems. That all I offered was the ability to try to bring people together, to try to work together to solve some of the issues.

Mark: With the campaign team, was it one time you did this, and they said, “Robb that’s stupid,” and then it was over, or was it ongoing conflict with them?

Robb: It was ongoing conflict, but not about everything. For instance, I made a commitment during the campaign, that my political career begins and ends in Davis. So I am committed to localism. I’m committed to this bioregion. I’m committed to naming the giftedness of the people in this town and drawing on that giftedness to solve our problems. I’m committed to understanding the natural resources, to solving conflict locally. So I laid that out and I said, “This is my commitment, that I will not seek higher office.” My campaign team was okay with that.

I think the reason I won, even though I did not always follow the counsel of my campaign team, is that we knocked on every single door in the community and I held almost 40 face-to-face meetings around tables in neighborhoods where we sat and listened to people. And, oh my goodness the fear and the trauma I encountered in a privileged community like Davis; you would be shocked by what people were afraid of. And all they wanted was someone to listen.

Mark: Let’s return to your comment about confession for collective sin. Can you give an example of how you do that?

Robb: I am asked to speak frequently at different events. Recently I spoke at a demonstration against Bakken crude oil coming through our town by rail. It is very volatile and there have been railroad accidents and explosions in other places, killing many people and causing significant environmental destruction. What I mean by public confession is standing in front of a group of environmental activists and saying, “You know the oil company is not going to the Bakken formation to make our lives miserable. The oil-producing company is not going to the Bakken shale to give us heartache, or to challenge our goal of local control of land use. They’re going to the Bakken shale because we’re telling them too. We’re asking them, we’re begging them, our society, our lifestyles are drenched in oil. That’s why they’re going.” Now, that’s my public confession of my participation in systemic sin. We’re raping Canada’s timber to build houses in California. We’ve despoiled the Ecuadorian rainforests to drive our cars. We need to say that; we need to acknowledge that. And I’ve felt like I could make a commitment to do that. And in the end to be confessional to acknowledge my role in the systemic.

Mark: Ellul wrote: “The first great fact which emerges from our civilization is that today everything has become ‘means.’ There is no longer an ‘end;’ we do not know whither we are going. We have forgotten our collective ends, and we possess great means: we set huge machines in motion in order to arrive nowhere” (Jacques Ellul, Presence of the Kingdom, p. 63). How have you observed this?

Robb: Two months after I was elected an MRAP, Mine-Resistant Armored Personnel Carrier, arrived in our town. It looks like a tank without a turret.  It was surplus military equipment sent by the U.S. Government at the request of our police department.

Mark: Sent to your town and many others. . .

Robb: Many others. Hundreds of towns across the United States. I asked, “We need a tank?” And the police said, “Yes. We need it for lone shooter events were somebody’s hiding and shooting. We need it in case of a disaster. We need it in case there’s a riot.”

Means and ends. The day it arrived, the first thing that came into my mind was, “Means and ends.” What did Ellul say about means and ends? Now let’s think about this vehicle, the MRAP. It has an end. It was developed for a reason. It was developed for one very specific reason. It can carry large numbers of soldiers down a flat Iraqi road, have an explosive device go off underneath it, and preserve the lives of the people inside. It was created because of a lie. If you disagree with me that the Iraq war was a lie we can discuss it later. The end to which it was set was based on a lie. It achieved the end of keeping people alive, but when the war was over, the U.S. Government needed to do something with it, and so it committed to sending these MRAP’s to every community that wanted one in the United States, no strings attached. A vehicle worth $750,000 each.

And our police are saying to me, “We need it. We need it.” So I challenged them, and I said, “What’s the concern? Security, right? We need it for our security.” And we did Town Hall meetings, and people came and said, “We need it for our security.” That’s the end that we’re trying to achieve, security.

So I asked the police in public meetings, “What’s the security threat?” They said two things, which are very telling in this world. And think of this through the lens of Ellul. Everything is becoming means. We’ve forgotten the ends. So we have a machine that’s created for certain ends, which are based on a lie, now this machine, this means, is coming to a community and what we’re trying to do is find an end that justifies this means so that we can keep it. We “create” ends to justify its continued use. But it’s an instrument of power and control.

And so, the police said, “Well, we have drug deals going down in our town, and the drug dealers are stealing each other’s stashes, and they get into gun battles with each other, and we need it in case we’re going in to arrest the drug dealers because they’re heavily armed.”

Okay, now think about that in terms of ends. The first question was, “Who’s buying the drugs?” And the police turned to me and said, “Our largest problem is drug sales--a heroin problem among our young people and a methamphetamine problem among our middle-aged population.”  This is a real problem in our community. The demand for drugs is not dropping out of the sky; Again, these guys are not cultivating drugs and selling them just to make our lives hell, they’re doing it because there is a demand. So how do we respond to this problem? We’re going to address addiction with an MRAP. We are trying to achieve certain ends (reduction in drug sales) by focusing on the wrong means. We should be looking at the causes of addiction, not stopping drug sales caused by it with an MRAP

The second one is even more telling. It gave me chills and I hope it gives you chills too. The assistant chief of police came to me separately, and said, “Robb, we have legitimate concerns. There are people in this community who are tactically trained. They’re trained in police tactics, and they know how to counter us, and by the way Robb—some of these folks have PTSD. If they get guns in their hands, it’s very difficult for us to deal with them.” And I said, “We have people in our community who are tactically trained, who have PTSD, and access to weapons?” He said, “Yeah. Former military.”

Means and ends, right? We go off to Iraq. We wage war. Men come back with PTSD, tactically trained. And the way we deal with them is an MRAP so that we can take them out? And the government is not paying anything to deal with the PTSD? This is the way we’re dealing with the problems in our community? With an MRAP? So we voted to get rid of it. It felt significant, but the Department of Defense sent it 10 miles north to the city of Woodland. We were the laughingstock of the neighborhood. The big blowback came a few weeks later though and relates to another insight from Ellul. In the film, “The Betrayal of Technology” he said, “Technique will not tolerate (or accept) any judgment passed on it.  In other words, technicians do not easily tolerate people expressing an ethical or moral judgment on what they do.”

“Technique does not accept judgment.” Moral Judgment.  And then Ellul wrote, “in other words, the technician.” I find it very interesting that he started by saying, “la technique.” Which shows me that technique is a spiritual power. In addition to the technicians, there is la technique, there is technique, which is the Power. The blowback we got, which was severe, and I almost thought I was going to be recalled, was that we were accused of compromising the security of our city. We were accused. I sat with the police and the police said, “We are the experts. We understand security. You are a politician, you do not know about security, you’ve taken a tool of security out of our hands.” I said to them in a public meeting, “The problem I have with the MRAP is that it is a symbol.” It is a symbol of the most destructive military force that the world has ever known, and we’re bringing that into our community.”

Most politicians don’t want to talk about ends, because a lot of times the ends that they’re working towards are hidden. They’re not the ends that they say publically. Push them on ends. Push them. Push them. The other thing is that we do have, in every bureaucracy, we have people who are enamored with means who will look for ends to which the means can be applied. It is means in search of ends.

Mark: In what ways have you personally felt challenged in relation to these themes we have been talking about, and what have you done in response?

Robb: People don’t corrupt you overtly. They do it this way: “Man, you’re amazing. You know if you—I know we have a weak mayor form of government Robb but, if you push this, it’ll pass, because people respect you. And so, could you push it?” So it’s subtle. It’s people projecting their hopes on you and convincing you, or trying to convince you that you are the solution to the problem, and if you take the lead—and that’ s every single day. Every single day there is the temptation to use power in a way that looks good, but here’s what happens. For instance, I want to work on restorative justice with youth. So one day I pick up the newspaper and it says, “Robb Davis led the initiative on restorative justice.” I read it and think, “Actually, no I didn’t. There were like 10 of us in the room.” So I have a choice at that point. Am I going to go correct the paper and say, “Actually there were 10 of us in the room, and I didn’t lead anything.” Or am I going to let that go.

And most people would say, “Let it go. Let it go.” Because if you let it go, you can move that initiative forward so much more quickly. People will follow you. And you’ll be able to move much more quickly.”

Here’s what happens: The goal is restorative justice. That is the end that you want to achieve. What happens when you start listening to those voices, or when you don’t correct those errors, or when you accept you know that praise? You actually start going doing that path. And you start saying, “You know what’s most important is that I am able to bring change.” And so what I need to do is I need to accumulate a little more of that status and power so that I can be better at bringing change.

Two things can occur. First, I can use the positive end, restorative justice, to justify means inconsistent with restorative justice itself and, for me, importantly, inconsistent with the way of Jesus. Second, with increased emphasis on the means to achieve power, eventually the original end of implementing the practice of restorative justice can get lost. Achieving power becomes the true end—even if not the acknowledged one.

Therefore, I must re-orient regularly. I so easily get pulled off track.  As part of that re-orientation I have had to do things likego before people and say, “You know what, I should’ve spoken up earlier, I had nothing to do with that. I didn’t do anything about that. I can’t take any credit for that.”

Mark: As you point out, to make effectiveness the supreme goal can become problematic, yet you do seek to be effective, correct? As you state, you desire to see an increased practice of restorative justice. You want to be effective in that.

Robb: Yes, we can’t live without some commitment to effectiveness. The problem is making effectiveness or efficiency the supreme goal that drives and determines everything.  I have found it is of utmost importance to have made premediated commitments. For instance, like Ellul I am committed to not use violence. Without that commitment, if violence appeared to be required to achieve a goal I might too easily succumb to the ends justifying that means—the means of violence. Ellul has certainly been a key influence in helping me, as a follower of Jesus, determine what my pre-commitments are—things I will not do in spite of what efficiency may demand or promise. This is not to say I am always faithful. As I just said, re-orientation is a constant necessity.

David Lovekin: If I were an average citizen in Davis I would probably have the idea that you are a thoughtful politician, more thoughtful than most, but would I know you are a Christian?

Robb: I made a decision to bring some explicit Christian theological language into my day-to-day political work. One explicit way I bring in faith language, and I think an authentic way, is to say what I’m actually doing as a leader in the community is I’m looking out for giftedness. I’m looking for gifts that can be brought to bear on dealing with the challenges of our community. So I use concepts like that, that we are given gifts. I don’t say God gives us gifts, I say we are given gifts, and they’re for the good of the community. That’s Paul. I also say, to my colleagues, “What we need to be modeling as a council is grace and forgiveness.” I talk explicitly about needing to reconcile the broken relationships in our community. And I do that by encouraging factions, whether it’s in the business community or whatever, to go through mediated processes. And these are things that have never happened before in Davis, but we’re starting them, and we’re having some success. And I talk about reconciliation and forgiveness. Grace, reconciliation, forgiveness, giftedness. Confession. I encourage people to confess when they hurt someone else. So I bring those terms in because they’re meaningful to me. I think they’re meaningful to the discourse. People definitely pursue me afterwards on certain things and say, “Where did you get that from? Like giftedness. What do you mean by that, Robb?” I haven’t had any pushback, and part of it is I’m not saying, “Paul said,” “Jesus taught.”

David Gill: As an ethics professor I always say to my students something like this: “Ethics is a team sport, not a solo sport. So you’re not going to do well living or discerning what’s right all by yourself. So you need some people around you.” So my question is, do you have some people around you who will help keep you sane, keep you in check so you don’t get arrogant about good things that happen?

Robb: In the spirit of confession, I think I’m doing that rather poorly. Leadership of this kind is isolating. And there are real trust issues. So the people who I trust are not engaged in city politics. And people engaged in city politics have some trust issues. Can I just acknowledge that? So I’m not doing a very good job at that. And it’s lonely and it’s not healthy.

Mark: But you do have people that you get together with who pray for you?

Robb: Yes, every two months we have a small group of people who come together on a Saturday afternoon and they put their hands on me and they pray for grace and patience and wisdom. You know, that’s important. But it’s not easy to get a group of people around who can simultaneously entertain deep conversation on policy and really be trustworthy--that they don’t have an interest that they’re trying to push. And I haven’t found that group yet. And I’m despairing that I will. And so, maybe I’ll just leave it at that.

 

Posted on November 6, 2016 .

The Urgency of Resistance: A Confrontation with Consumption

Within the bubble of my seminary classroom and my neighborhood small group I can develop the sense that Christians are resisting the strong current of consumerism. Recently I left the bubble.

I visited a Christian family who are active church members and give generously, yet they live large. Their house, garage, and lives are filled with big new expensive things.

I felt frustration thinking about how what they spent on luxuries could have aided those who do not have necessities. Although many, entering the home, would have thought “what a great life they have” I felt sadness for them. Their home and purchases reflect good desires, and admittedly meet some of those desires. Yet I fear that things they buy often function as a detour from experiencing those desires in a full and deep way—or at times even a road block.

We often use bigger and better things to seek to fill our longings, but they are like cotton candy—moments of pleasure that do not provide what we truly need.

Having desperately poor Hondurans in mind, whenever I lead a Bible study on Luke 12 I state that a certain amount of possessions does make life better, but Jesus challenges the myth that more is better. “One’s life does not consist in the abundance of possessions” (Luke 12:15). Having an abundance of possessions produces clutter in our homes and our lives. We buy things, but they easily become our masters. They consume our attention and our time. They serve to insulate us from reality—at times from beautiful reality, and at times from painful reality we would rather avoid, but do so at our peril.

We often use bigger and better things to seek to fill our longings, but they are like cotton candy—moments of pleasure that do not provide what we truly need. I am convinced that the way of gratitude and contentment, rather than the path of consumeristic grasping for more, will yield much greater shalom. And not only for this family, but also for creation itself. This step out of my bubble left me with a sense of conviction that we need to do more to address the issue of consumerism in the Christian world.

That conviction grew when I attended a conference of the International Jacques Ellul Society. A number of speakers urged us to reflect on root issues like consumerism. Robb Davis, the mayor of Davis California, had joined with others to protest against Bakken oil being shipped through their city by rail. He told us that he participated in the protest, but in his speech he reminded the protesters that the oil companies were not extracting and shipping this oil motivated by a desire to create lethal train accidents or damage the environment. “They extract oil from Bakken shale because we are asking them to. Our societies, our lives are drenched in oil.” They do what they do because we buy their product.

At another moment in the conference, someone commented on how the nearby San Francisco Bay is much cleaner now than it was 50 years ago. Another conference attendee said, “Yes, California has done great at getting bad stuff out of California, but it has not stopped buying huge amounts of things whose production creates the same sort of toxins in other places that used to pollute the Bay.”

I encourage you to join me in considering how we can live differently and call other Christians to do more to resist the pull of consumerism.

We confront consumerism out of concern for sustainable life on earth, love for the poor, and love for those who have been seduced by the lies of consumerism.

Care for creation and the ability to share more with others in need are reasons enough to do this. (For instance, today our mission agency is sending $180 of scholarship money to a Bible institute in Peru. Six of the thirty students could only pay half of the $60 cost [books and tuition] for the course. The needs and opportunities are great.)

Yet the benefits are not just for creation and the needy. A lifestyle focused on enough, on gratitude and sharing, rather than on getting more, is a richer more shalom-filled life. We confront consumerism out of concern for sustainable life on earth, love for the poor, and out of love for those who have been seduced by the lies of consumerism.

 

How do we respond to the rampant consumerism in our society?

 

Here are some ideas for responding at the personal level.

1. First, rather than simply comparing myself to the family mentioned above and thinking I am doing well on this topic because we only have one car, and it is ten years old, or we have not yet bought a flat screen TV, I am challenged to reflect on how I too am swept along in the current. What can I do to lessen my consumption?

2. Recognize that manufacturers are constantly designing products that are better in some way—more efficient, more comfortable, or simply a new style—to compel us to discard the old and buy the new. I try to ask, “Is what I have working. If so, why replace it?” I can do better at this.

3. In relation to our purchases, ask the Amish question: “Will this bring us together, or increase isolation and alienation?”

4. I could renew a practice from my past. Figuratively speaking, I brought one of my impoverished Honduran friends with me as I shopped. Similarly, we can seek to keep in mind how our purchases might affect creation.

5. I have been too private about this. I am committing myself to bring this topic up in our small group and discuss how we can help each other take more significant steps of freedom.How do we respond to the rampant consumerism in our society?

Here are some ideas  for us as we work with others.

7. In general, churches give little attention to this topic. We must do better. Let us, in our conversations, preaching, counseling, and teaching expose the lie, proclaim that for many people less possessions, not more, would lead to more shalom in their life. And, when thinking of homes and cars, bigger is not always better.

8. Watch The Story of Stuff and discuss it with others, or use other resources on our website

Often we are not buying things to demonstrate we are better than others; rather we consume just to fit in and join the circle.

We must do much more, however, than provide information. There is tremendous societal pressure to buy bigger and better because status is measured and gained through possessions. But as Allison Pugh illustrates in her book, Longing and Belonging: Parents, Children and Consumer Culture, often we are not buying things to demonstrate we are better than others; rather we consume just to fit in and join the circle. And, one’s insider place is not secure. Fads and fashion change. Dignity through consumption achieved one day can be gone the next (7, 224). Advertising amplifies this shame and pressure. It seeks to make us feel dissatisfied with who we are (and promises us a lie that if we buy x product then. . .).

 

What can we do in response to these realities?

 

1. Name people. I am convinced that the best antidote to consumerism is confidence that flows from the security of identity rooted in Jesus.

2. Work with intentionality to make churches communities of inclusion that are not possession based, and thus undercut the spirit of consumerism that promises belonging through buying. (Think of re-writing Galatians 3:28 in terms of possessions rather than ethnicity and gender.)

3. Proclaim that through the cross Christ has liberated us from the powers described in the paragraph above. (Brian Walsh and Sylvia Keesmaat do a great job of this in Colossians Remixed, 137-38.)

3. James K. A. Smith writes: “I think we should first recognize and admit that the marketing industry—which promises an erotically charged transcendence through media that connects to our heart and imagination—is operating with a  better, more creational, more incarnational, more holistic anthropology than much of the (evangelical) church. . . [The marketing industry] has rightly discerned that we are embodied, desiring creatures whose being-in-the-world is governed by the imagination...  [We] are oriented primarily by love and passion and desire” (Desiring the Kingdom, 76).

4. Let us stir people’s passion for alternatives to consumerism. Tell stories of people’s lives that were enriched through downsizing. Portray alternative visions of retirement. 

5. Consumeristic society honors conspicuous consumption; look for opportunities to do the opposite. Honor generosity, moderation, reusing and repairing, sustainability, etc.; and cultivate a spirit of gratitude.

6. How might we do what Smith points to through our worship services?

7. For an embodied activity invite others from your church to join you in spending an hour at a mall looking at it critically, thinking of it as a place of worship and formation. (Many of you have done this as a class assignment in Discipleship and Ethics. If you have not and would like a fuller description of the assignment send me an e-mail.)

8. Just as important as exposing and critiquing is providing positive alternatives. Ask the question: in what ways is life more than possessions? Then work to increase in your community those things possessions cannot provide.

9. What other ideas do you have?

 

I write this blog with depth of conviction. We must act.

Seeking to live with less can be liberating; it can also enslave. There was a period in my life in which I was consumed with not consuming. Let us, in the pursuit of an ethics of freedom, keep asking: Where’s the beauty?

I also write with some hesitancy. In relation to this topic it is so easy to get bogged down in guilt, or filled with self-righteousness and a sense of superiority. Seeking to live with less can be liberating; it can also enslave. There was a period in my life in which I was consumed with not consuming. I wrestled over most every purchase, and invested enormous energy seeking to discern something that does not exist—the right Christian lifestyle. I pressured myself and others through a bounded approach of line-drawing. It was not a place of shalom.

As we act and seek to follow Jesus in relation to this topic, let us be gracious to ourselves and others.

A few readers of an earlier draft of this blog affirmed the imperative of resisting consumerism, but urged me to include a greater sense of the positives of a lifestyle of enough, of contentment, and generosity. In response I did add some lines, yet there is much more that could be said. This morning as I read the final chapter, on beauty, in John D. Roth’s book Practices: Mennonite Worship and Witness. I was reminded of his response to the earlier draft of this blog. He asked, “Mark, where is the beauty?”

I invite you to respond to the question in the comment section. How have you experienced beauty and shalom through resisting consumerism and following the way of Jesus?

 

Posted on October 12, 2016 .

Book Review: The Omnivore's Dilemma

In The Omnivore’s Dilemma Michael Pollan presents the history of four meals from their source to his plate. He follows the path corn takes from Iowa to his fast-food meal; he compares the journey of two organic meals, one purchased at Whole Foods and the other from a single farm; and he describes the hunting, gathering and growing he did to produce the fourth meal.  

Technique is a dominant theme in the book. Often it is explicitly on the surface. How could one not think of Jacques Ellul and technique when reading sentences like: “There are a great many reasons American cattle came off the grass and into the feedlot, and yet all of them finally come down to the same one: Our civilization and, increasingly, our food system are strictly organized on industrial lines. They prize consistency, mechanization, predictability, interchangeability, and economies of scale” (2006, p. 201).

Yet technique bashing is not Pollan’s primary aim. In fact, Joel Salatin, the farmer most praised in the Omnivore’s Dilemma, uses a lot of technique in doing sustainable agriculture. Here are just two examples. The schedule of what happens on a particular section of pasture is carefully controlled. Chickens follow cattle, and neither are allowed to graze too long; Salatin seeks optimum yield by allowing the grass to grow for a specific amount of time before bringing the cattle back. A super-lightweight portable electronic fence is a vital element in the whole operation.

Contrasting case studies in Pollan offer the opportunity to ask the question: what is the difference between the role of technique at an industrialized cattle feedlot operation and at Joel Salatin’s farm? In one we see what concerned Ellul, the rule of the spirit of technique and its focus on absolute efficiency driving every decision. In the other we see individual techniques and technologies used. Yet at times the most efficient approach is intentionally not taken because it conflicts with the overall goal of seeking to farm in a way that follows nature and leads to good relationships between the farmer and his neighbors and to health for all involved.

Pollan does an excellent job of not demonizing individual actors in the industrial food system. Although he does not present a conspiracy theory, the alienating elements are so strong and effective that at one point I thought: it is as if you asked a commission to make changes to our agricultural food system so that it would ruin our health, make us more oil dependent, damage the environment, and stress farmers in a myriad of ways including economic. There was, of course, no commission, but we do see these results.

As I read Pollan’s books I increasingly found myself reflecting on the biblical theme of the powers. What then does an ethic of freedom look like in relation to the food system today? Pollan provides information, concrete examples of alienation and freedom and he offers guidelines for consumers. A helpful start. We are called by Jesus Christ to go deeper and enabled by the cross and resurrection to do so.

 

Posted on September 9, 2016 .

The Power of Food

I stood nervously before the class. Had I gone too far this time? Sure, I had just given reasons why I had added the topic of food to the Discipleship and Ethics course, but I wondered if they were convincing. Did even I really think they were true, or was I grasping for reasons?

I assumed that most of the students were thinking, “Ok Mark, fine for you to be excited about this topic, but why are you forcing it on the rest of us?”

The previous summer my daughter Julia had recommended I read Michael Pollan’s The Omnivore’s Dilemma. He led me to think about food and our food system in new ways. As I read, my conviction grew: things must change.

Filled with passion I decided, “we are going to talk about this in class.” My passion and conviction had only increased as I read other authors in preparation for the class. But now I stood insecurely in front of the class.

I told students that the topic of food and food production would provide a great way to review and explore in more depth other themes from the semester. Good words, but the reality was that I had not started the class planning by asking: “what would be a good topic to use for that purpose?” Rather I had asked, “How can I justify giving two class sessions to this food topic?” Then I thought of the idea of using it to review other themes. Was it true, or a flimsy justification?

As the students did their reading I asked them to:

Take note of how the following themes are evident; how do you better understand these themes through the lens of this issue and how do you better understand the food issue through the lens of these themes?

  • Principalities and powers
  • Technique
  • Mammon
  • Consumerism
  • Television/Internet

It worked. They saw what I had seen and more. It provided a way to review and deepen.

He made some comments about healthier food—the sort of thing I had expected. But mostly he reflected on relationship and the way family dynamics changed, positively, through their eating together.

Even more significantly, however, was how, through students’ reflections, I realized that the significance and breadth of the topic were much greater than I had imagined. I remember the moment. I was reading a student’s reflection about how that week his family, rather than grabbing fast food, committed to make all their suppers and eat them together at the table. He made some comments about healthier food—the sort of thing I had expected. But mostly he reflected on relationship and the way family dynamics changed, positively, through their eating together.

I leaned back and said, “Wow, I did not imagine that coming from this class session.” That was just one of many responses that I had not imagined when I added it to the course. The justification I had given for adding it to the course was true--not flimsy at all. The nervousness and insecurity were a one-time experience—only occurring the first time I did the class. I now start that class session with confidence of its broad relevance and value.

I will copy below the action-reflection assignment that produced the above experience. Some of you have done this, most have not. I encourage all of you to do it this week—again or for the first time. Use the comment feature to share your reflections.

The action part of the assignment is to do something different than your normal routine in relation to food. This is very open ended. Some possibilities include: shop at a farmers’ market, prepare meals at home, get a trial CSA box for one week and prepare meals based on what is in it, visit a farm and discuss issues that have come up in this class, invite others to join you for a meal, have a meal be part of a Bible study or other church event, plant some vegetables, volunteer at a food bank, avoid fast food for the week, eat together as a family, etc. (you may already do some of these things, the idea is to do something that you do not normally do). Come to class prepared to report on what you did and reflect on what you observed and learned through the experience.

 

Posted on September 8, 2016 .

Re-Orientation

In this political season in the United States we have observed people bend the truth, lie, change their positions, and abandon former allies--all in calculated ways to obtain or keep their positions of power. And this is not limited just to positions of national prominence. Two years ago my friend Robb Davis was elected to the city council of a city of less than 70,000. At a recent conference on Jacques Ellul Robb shared how Ellul’s writing on ends and means has influenced him. He told me, “I must re-orient regularly. I so easily get pulled off the way of Jesus.” For instance, he is a strong advocate of restorative justice. He is regularly urged explicitly, or feels an internal pull, to do more to increase people’s allegiance to him and thus increase his level of power so he can more easily enact programs using restorative justice. Two things can occur. First, he can use the positive end, restorative justice, to justify means inconsistent with the way of Jesus. Second, with increased emphasis on the means to achieve power, eventually the original end of implementing the practice of restorative justice can get lost. Achieving power becomes the true end—even if not the acknowledged one.

With increased emphasis on the means to achieve power, eventually the original end of implementing the practice of restorative justice can get lost. Achieving power becomes the true end—even if not the acknowledged one.

It is true that the political realm may be especially challenging, but I think we all could benefit from following Robb’s example of re-orientation. I have been reflecting on how and why it is needed in my life—in two different ways.

The first is the same sort of twisting of ends and means that Robb describes. Here are a few examples. Most of my life I have worked for Christian non-profit organizations that depend on donations to carry out their mission. Money, fundraising, is a means, but I have seen churches and organizations get off track in both of the ways Robb described. They have compromised their values in order to get (or not lose) donations. In some cases obtaining donations becomes the true end of the organization in the sense that it drives what they do. Generally, people in the organization are not consciously aware of this shift, and, in fact, it is not as clear as the previous sentences imply. There is a continuum, and the shift from money as an appropriate means to money as a distorted end is subtle. For that reason, the regular evaluation and re-orientation that Robb calls for is necessary.

As an author, I observe the dynamic Robb describes. There was certainly some amount of ego involved in writing my books, especially the first. But mostly it was not about me. I did not write books about the atonement as a means of making Mark Baker famous. I wrote in order to contribute to paradigm change in relation to the atonement. But an author with higher stature, more notoriety, will lead to more people buying and reading the book. So, for instance, I was glad to receive an invitation to speak at a national study conference of the Brethren in Christ Church in Canada. I assumed it would help sell more books—spread the word.  Last year I improved my website. I tell myself that the reason I did that (and the reason I just included the link) is to promote my writings—contribute to paradigm change in the way of Jesus. But these things can easily become about promoting me. Regular re-orientation, taking an honest look at means, is important and necessary.

What are ways that means and ends can get confused in your life? What things pull you off track? How might you practice re-orientation?

I have written a big ‘why?’ at the top of my daily prayer/reflection guide. I reflect on the day ahead and, with Jesus in mind, I ask ‘Why am I doing what I am doing?’

A second way of re-orientation needed in my life differs from what Robb describes. It is not so much that means pull me away from the true end and I get off course. Rather I have been doing the same things for so long I stop thinking about the end. I am on auto-pilot. I teach classes because it is my job; I preach a sermon because I was invited to; I offer guidance to students because they are my advisees; I raise money for projects in Latin America because I have done so for decades; I work on a book manuscript because I committed myself to the project a few years ago; I write a blog like this one because we committed to doing so monthly, etc. I am not saying I do all this with no sense of mission—pure obligation no passion. Rather my point is that I have not generally started my days reflecting on the coherence between what I am doing and the way of Jesus. The things I do in a day are good things; unlike the examples in the previous section, relatively speaking, I am on course. Yet, re-orientation is beneficial. I have written a big “why?” at the top of my daily prayer/reflection guide. It reminds me to reflect on the day ahead and, with Jesus in mind, I ask “Why am I doing what I am doing?” Asking the question has not led to significant changes in my days in terms of what I do, but it has changed how I have done them. It has surprised me what happens, for instance, when I think ahead to a meeting I have with a student and ask the “why?” question. Things come to mind to talk about that would not have if I had remained on auto-pilot. It has rarely changed the content in the class I have that day, but it has changed my posture and passion toward the class—which in the end probably does impact the content even if I use the same notes I used last time.

Re-aligning with the way of Jesus is fundamentally good news—better for us as individuals and better for the world. When I re-orient I feel more alive, more engaged. I invite you to join me in more intentionally practicing a discipline of looking at our lives and re-orienting them toward Jesus our center.

 

Posted on August 11, 2016 .

Mammon's Theft of Shalom

“It didn’t work.”

Bob Ekblad’s words caught me by surprise. I calmly asked him to explain, but internally I was anything but calm.

Inner voices were screaming out “What do you mean it did not work!? Your community development work with Gracie was very successful!” In fact, I often have told of their story as an example of a positive model. They lived in a rural Honduran town; they partnered with a Honduran couple; they lived incarnationally in a simple adobe house like those they served; they first modeled better agricultural practices and after people saw the results they desired to learn from the Ekblads.

They started with and focused on working at more economical farming methods that prevented soil erosion, produced greater yields, and were environmentally friendly. But they did more: they sought to be holistic.

“Julio has been successful.” He is nowhere near wealthy, but his family is comfortable. Yet Bob said, “He wants more; he wants to come to the United States to make more money.”

They worked in various areas: nutrition, education, health care, job creation and they started Bible studies with those involved. They were patient; they invested in relationships, they trained Hondurans to teach others. The changes were visible -- in people’s lives and on the hillsides as many adopted their farming methods. After five years they left and the program continued. They supported it from afar and visited regularly.

Yet now, almost 35 years after they had first gone to Honduras, sitting on the other side of their dining room table Bob said, “It didn’t work.”

He explained that the people they had worked with are not at peace. More soul work was needed. I pressed him a bit — naming individuals. “How about David?” Bob replied, “Yes, he is the exception.”

But when I asked about Julio (not his real name), Bob sadly shook his head. Julio was one of the first to apply their methods, probably because he was amongst the poorest in the town. The sight of Ekblad’s garden teeming with vegetables and Bob’s infectious passion had led Julio to believe he might actually be able to grow vegetables on the little square of land their rented shack sat on.

During a weekend away from my teaching job in Tegucigalpa I had gone with Bob, on horses, to Julio’s home. We helped Julio make a huge compost pile that would provide rich soil to transform his hard packed dirt into a garden.

Bob reported to me that what I had hoped for that day had happened. Over the years, with the Ekblads help and training, and a lot of hard work, Julio rented bigger pieces of land to farm and eventually bought his own. In Bob’s words, “Julio has been successful.” He is nowhere near wealthy, but his family is comfortable. Yet Bob said, “He wants more; he wants to come to the United States to make more money.” Bob concluded, “We should have started in a different place, with soul work rather than agriculture.” 

As I ponder these few minutes of conversation a number of things stand out to me.

  1. The value of a long term perspective. Thirty years ago he would not have said “It did not work.” You see things after thirty years that you do not see after five years — let alone after a few months or a few weeks. What can you do to foster a long term perspective?

  2. Be truly holistic. Some react to an overly individualistic-spiritualized-futuristic version of the gospel by totally rejecting it and dedicating themselves to pressing injustices and physical needs. More commonly, people instead embrace a holistic gospel that includes the physical and economic, but the spiritual as well. My sense, however, is that many in this latter category give lip service to a holistic gospel, but in reality give little attention the spiritual component — what Bob called soul work. I was in that category for a few years in Honduras. The physical needs were so great, the injustices so extreme — they consumed me. I affirmed a holistic gospel, but did not really practice it. Gradually, as I came to see that distorted concepts of God and bounded group religiosity caused great suffering in people’s lives, I became as enthusiastic about leading Bible studies on Jesus as I was about addressing physical poverty. Although I am not as convinced as Bob that the starting point must be soul work, his reflections affirm to me that it must be central. How holistic is your approach? What areas call for more attention?

  3. Mammon and consumerism enslave, and we must address them directly — whether working with the poor or rich. Mammon blocked Julio from fully experiencing shalom. How might you seek to introduce the Julio’s in your life to liberation from Mammon through Jesus?

Posted on July 11, 2016 .

Book Review: Sex and the iWorld by Dale S. Kuehne

tWorld – Traditional:   Marriage and the extended family were the relational foundation of the tWorld. It was constructed on a matrix of relationships of mutual obligations and responsibilities. Rich in relational fulfillment. Sexuality was not seen as a means fulfillment. Not to say all was wonderful. There was abuse and all sorts of relational hurt and alienation (35, 40).

iWorld – Individualism:   Relationships of obligation have been changed to relationships of choice. Sex is disconnected from marriage and procreation. Its value is romantic pleasure. It is appropriate if there is mutual consent (44, 74). “In an iWorld relationship it is up to each person to ensure that they are getting what they want, and if they are not, it is their responsibility to find it” (167).

rWorld – Relationship:   “Whereas the iWorld is a place in which freedom of the individual reigns, the rWorld is based on the belief that humans are made for relationship and that we find our deepest fulfillment not when seeking self-fulfillment but when living and engaging in the full constellation of healthy human relationships” (95).

“We are created to relate to God and one another, and our personal fulfillment and happiness depend on the health of those two relationships” (112).

Life is more than the physical and emotional. “To reclaim the totality of relational fullness we need to rediscover the . . . spiritual dimension of relationship”  (168).

Reflecting on this book, Kathleen Chavoor Bergen wrote:

As a first generation Armenian American who was truly raised in both the tWorld and the iWorld reading this book validated my frustration of both dichotomies. I took an honest look at how some of the bounded and oppressive ideals of the traditional world had moved me into a fuzzy or individual world. Through much introspection I have been confronted with the fact that both worlds are unsatisfying. The concept of an rWorld, especially in regards to sexuality has forced me to evaluate the purpose of sexuality. Kuehne states on page 150, “… humans are made for relationship and we crave love and intimacy more than anything else. The problem with sex is not that it is bad but that it alone cannot deliver fulfillment for which we yearn.” This is contrary to the belief of the iWorld.  The iWorld advocates for fulfilling your immediate physical needs outside of the realm of deep and true authentic relationships. I would like to advocate for the continual evaluation of what true rWorld relationships look like in ways that move away from bounded ideals. To me, they can easily become intertwined, especially in the realm of what is appropriate sexually. (From her book review for Discipleship and Ethics, Spring, 2015, used with permission.)

Posted on July 5, 2016 and filed under book reviews.

Same-Sex Relationships -- A Centered Alternative?

The question of same-sex relationships is surrounded by tension. I have often felt that the only way to not come across as judgmental, or to not be judged by others as being on the wrong side of a line (by one side or the other), is to remain silent. Examples of bounded group approaches to the issue of same-sex relationships abound. Passions and convictions are so strong on both the “traditional” and the “affirming” sides I have had trouble imagining a third way-- a centered approach.

Passions and convictions are so strong on both the “traditional” and the “affirming” sides I have had trouble imagining a third way— a centered approach.

In recent months hearing Bruxy Cavey and Kurt Willems describe their churches’ approach helped me start to imagine the possibilities of centered approaches, third ways, to approach this contentious issue. (Although I think many from both sides would critique aspects of Cavey’s and Willems’s presentations, it is noteworthy that both churches have people who hold the traditional view, and have people involved in same-sex relations that feel welcome.)

A book by Tim Otto has contributed in significant ways to the possibilities I started imagining when listening to Bruxy and Kurt. Otto writes Oriented to Faith: Transforming the Conflict over Gay Relationships as a celibate gay man. Although his story and experiences are a powerful and important part of the book, he does not use them to advocate celibacy as the “right” position. (His story is more complex than the phrase “celibate gay man” might imply.) In fact he states in the introduction that the book will not present a position on the morality question. He writes that he is not “secretly trying to smuggle” in a “God condemns” or “God affirms” message (xviii). That is hard to pull off, but I think he did it and it is part of why I think the book has such potential in helping to find a third way.

A central argument of the book is that “figuring out the right thing is not as easy as either right or left admit” (47). Otto has worked hard to honor and affirm both sides and also critique and challenge both sides in an even-handed way. I will focus this review on chapters 11-14 where he does that most directly.

He observes that many on the progressive side are overly influenced by societal ideals of freedom, individualism, rights and equality (FIRE). To accept the logic of FIRE inevitably will lead to affirmation of same-sex relationships. After reflecting on the tension between the Bible and the contemporary understandings of those FIRE values, Otto writes: “Realizing that the presuppositions of FIRE don’t necessarily trump other arguments ought to make liberal Christians more humble about speaking the truth for God” (74).

The traditional position could have a strong witness against consumer culture and how it has infiltrated thinking about marriage—gay and straight. But in general, traditional churches have failed to do so. They also have done poorly at loving gay people.

But the very next lines in book are: “Conservatives also need to adopt a humble stance in approaching truth, for they often get so caught up in the particulars of Scripture that they miss the overall story: Jesus and his kingdom” (75). After critiquing a biblicism that views the Bible as a bundle of factoids, he works through the seven explicit references to same-sex acts. He graciously writes that given the way the verses are commonly translated “it is understandable that conservative Christians would take these verses as clear cut prohibitions of homosexuality” (83). He demonstrates, however, that their meaning is not as clear as many assume. He challenges common interpretations, not in order to say, “therefore you are wrong,” but to call for humility and to exhort the traditional camp to stop accusing those on the other side of not taking the Bible seriously.

In the next two chapters he writes with a mix of graciousness and loving confrontation. First, to the traditional side he acknowledges that good arguments can be made that “God’s vision of human flourishing excludes same-sex relations” (86). He points out that on the basis of these arguments the traditional position could have a strong witness against consumer culture and how it has infiltrated thinking about marriage—gay and straight. But in general, traditional churches have failed to do so. They also have done poorly at loving gay people. Otto gives examples of how they could improve in this area, including: affirm LGBT people as body members; distinguish between orientation and behavior; and even if taking a stance that homosexual behavior is a sin, acknowledge “it is not in a special category of ‘badness’ all its own” (89). He ends the chapter suggesting that a good way to start is by saying, “I’m sorry Christians judge you” and “I’m sorry for the way churches have treated you” (96).

In a similar way he begins the next chapter with a section titled “How the Affirming Church is Reading Scripture with Integrity” and stating that “affirming churches might be right in blessing same-sex relationships” (99-100). Then he pivots, as he did with the traditional church in the previous chapter.

Yet, the affirming church also tends to not confront consumer capitalism and often it does not challenge a permissive sexual ethic that accompanies the affirming position in society (103). He exhorts the affirming church to “recover and celebrate a love ethic that emphasizes faithfulness and commitment in the context of a robust church community” (106).

Yet…. Yet, the affirming church also tends to not confront consumer capitalism and often it does not challenge a permissive sexual ethic that accompanies the affirming position in society (103). He exhorts the affirming church to “recover and celebrate a love ethic that emphasizes faithfulness and commitment in the context of a robust church community” (106). He challenges the affirming church to do much better at mentoring and supporting same-sex couples. “Many heterosexual relationships are floundering, yet gay relationships have even less social support” (107).

Otto does not just present a fuzzy approach as an alternative to a bounded one. His approach impresses me as truly centered not just because he works so hard to avoid line-drawing judgmentalism, but because he also raises challenges for each side that flow from his focus on Jesus.

What excites and disturbs you as you read about Otto’s ideas? What do you find helpful? How could you imagine Otto’s perspectives helping you to love LGBTQ people in your life? If you are LGBTQ, how does his “third way” approach affect you? What are things you have done to seek a centered approach, a third way in this contentious issue? Please share them with us.

 

***NOTE*** This post was written prior to the terrible shooting at a gay bar in Orlando. Particularly in light of that tragedy, we find the need for a Christ-shaped posture toward the LGBTQ community crucial. Please join us in prayer for physical and emotional healing, in prayers for an end to this traumatic cycle of violence, and in the prayerful pursuit of compassionate relationships with those who need the love of Jesus as God might enable it to be expressed through us.   Grace and peace, Nathan Hunt (web manager)

 

Posted on June 13, 2016 .

Speaking of Jesus...

I had heard of Cornel West, walked by him at conferences, was intrigued by him, but I had never heard him speak. Last summer I had the opportunity to do so at the Hispanic Summer Program. HSP, started by Justo Gonzalez, provides Latina and Latino seminary students the opportunity to take a two-week course from a Hispanic professor in a setting in which they are not a minority in the classroom. Fresno Pacific Biblical Seminary became one of the thirty-plus sponsoring seminaries in 2013 so that our students could participate. I was at HSP for a shorter program, called Through Hispanic Eyes, for non-Hispanic seminary faculty and administrators. Cornel West gave an evening lecture to HSP students on black-brown relationships—participants in my program, as well as people from the community, were invited to sit in on the lecture.

I expected West to be radical. His passionate critique of the status quo did not surprise me; it did surprise me when he started talking about the cross. Numerous times he called the audience to look through the lens of the cross. He declared, “and what is seen through the lens of the cross is not a proposition.”

Too often it seems that the more academic the setting the less Jesus talk there is. And that had been true of the sessions I had been in with other seminary professors talking about how to better recruit and serve Latina and Latino students. We started each day with a devotional led by one of the participants. The devotionals were good—clearly people in the group had deep faith commitments, but Jesus was not mentioned again the rest of the day. We, myself included, never said, “let’s look through the lens of the cross. How might that shape how we approach this?” We did not talk about how following Jesus related to the topic of our training.

What most challenged me was the fact that he so explicitly brought Jesus into his talk. Why do I not more often do what he did? He integrated talk of Jesus and the cross into a topic that did not demand it.

West did not just mention Jesus, he proclaimed him!

This was not a sermon. It was a lecture and he spoke about many things, but he also preached—and without hesitation. He asked us “Do you have the nerve to follow Jesus? Are you willing to cut against the grain?”  He stated, “You can call Alexander great if you want, but he is not great through the lens of the cross. Through the lens of the cross love and serving others is what is great.”  “The way of the cross is the way of unconditional love and truth.” He exhorted us to put the cross first, not the flag of our nation.

If West, a former Princeton University Philosopher professor and current Union Seminary philosophy professor, had not mentioned Jesus or the cross in this speech on black-brown relations, I would not have left saying, “Can you believe that? He never talked about Jesus!” Similarly, I had not ended the first day of our sessions by calling home and telling my wife, “Lynn, I can’t believe it—hours together with seminary deans, professors, and admission directors, but no talk about Jesus in relation to our topic.” It is telling that what caught my attention, what surprised me, in those days was not the lack of Jesus talk in our session, but the presence of Jesus talk in West’s lecture.

A number of things West said challenged me, left me pondering. But what most challenged me was the fact that he so explicitly brought Jesus into his talk. Why do I not more often do what he did? He integrated talk of Jesus and the cross into a topic that did not demand it—that many people would talk about without mentioning Jesus. My question is not: why don’t I talk about Jesus? I actually talk about Jesus quite a bit in classes and Bible studies. I even have a book titled Centrado en Jesus (Centered on Jesus). But it is one thing to talk with passion and conviction about Jesus when leading a Bible study, another thing to do so when talking about other topics. For instance, I frequently have conversations with people about the themes of this website without any Cornel West-like lines about the cross or Jesus. Why?

One answer could be that I have not looked at these topics enough through the lens of the cross to be able to integrate Jesus comments into my conversations. I do not think that is the case. I have thought of two other possible reasons. First, when in conversation with other Christians I think I and others assume the Jesus factor—sort of a “Well of course Jesus influences how we think about this, we are Christians.” So we do not bring Jesus into the conversation. Second, I think it is a reaction against some Christians overusing Jesus talk in clichéd ways. Not for the first time, I have reacted to some people’s negative version of a practice by abandoning the practice rather than reforming the practice. Cornel West’s example challenges me to do otherwise. It is not a call to sprinkle in Jesus talk just so I sound more Christian. Instead it is a call to bring more Jesus talk into conversation to acknowledge the reality that the point being made is influenced by Jesus and the cross, or as way of inviting reflection on how the conversation could be more profoundly Christian.

I can imagine some of you getting nervous now, perhaps thinking, “But wait a minute Mark, there are situations in which explicit Jesus language could be counterproductive—might end a conversation.” I acknowledge that. For instance I recently read Just Mercy. The Christian author writes a book in line with Cornel West’s observations and critiques. I believe the author, Bryan Stevenson, looks at the criminal justice system through the lens of the cross, yet he does not mention Jesus or the cross in the book. I imagine that was an intentional decision. He did not want to limit his audience by using explicitly Christian language. I do not critique Stevenson’s decision. I also, however, do not think it is always the best decision. I hope that the challenge of West’s lecture will lead to me bringing Jesus up more often in conversations with non-Christians on themes like consumerism or technique. Yet, I want to point out that the events described in this blog, HSP sessions and lecture, were Christian settings. It is Christian settings I have most in mind as I write this. Let us start there in increasing our Jesus talk.

After hearing Cornel West I added this line to my daily prayer guide: “Be like Cornel West -- let my Jesus commitments and convictions be more explicitly evident.” What has happened? There have been a number of times that this Cornel West-nudge has led me to explicitly bring Jesus into informal conversations, presentations and things I have written (including a couple of these blogs)--places where I probably would not have before. It has not, however, been as much as I thought it would be or as I would like it to be--plenty of room for growth here. Just last week after a lunch-time discussion with a few students about money/Mammon I realized that although I had used a few Christian words like “faith” and “trust in God,” I had not brought Jesus and the cross into the discussion in ways I could have. This is, however, progress. Pre Cornel West I would not have even had the evaluative thought, would not have recognized the missed opportunity.

After hearing Cornel West I added this line to my daily prayer guide: “Be like Cornel West — let my Jesus commitments and convictions be more explicitly evident.”

Does this really matter? Is it that big of a deal? Certainly there is value at the level of witness—speaking of Jesus in this way makes public my allegiance to him. Yet it is more than that. Hopefully it is true that much of what I think and say is shaped by Jesus, and I am not calling us to label every thought. For instance, returning to the seminar I was in at HSP, I am not saying that the things we discussed were not influenced by our faith commitments, nor that we should have begun every paragraph by saying “Through the lens of the cross…” Yet, I have found that bringing Jesus into conversations has changed things. It is not just window dressing. It has led me to think and say things that I would not have had I not brought Jesus explicitly into the conversation or presentation.

I wish in the midst of that seminar I would have asked, “how as followers of Jesus do we approach the issues of recruiting and serving Latino and Latina students differently than others?” This question would have brought new insights, new emotions, new convictions and new challenges into the discussion.

I invite you to join me in expressing your Jesus commitments and convictions more explicitly in areas you currently do not do so.

 

Posted on March 29, 2016 .

Talking About Peace Peacefully

 

The session had not gone well. It was part of the Canadian Mennonite Brethren Conference’s new pastors orientation that I helped lead about ten years ago. I had done the section on Anabaptist ethics. The segment on our peace position had turned into an argument. Although many in the room agreed with me, others attacked me. Perhaps because they felt attacked?

The next day flying out of Winnipeg I sat on the plane reflecting sadly on the session. I had used the same material that I had used in my Discipleship and Ethics class for a number of years. We looked at some biblical texts and I told my story of converting to Christian pacifism through experiencing the reality of war in El Salvador and reading Jacques Ellul. Often this class session at the seminary had an element of tension and argument because many in the room did not agree with my position, but the tension in Winnipeg had been much worse. Why?

In a moment of clarity and humility I recognized that I had done the very thing I teach against. I had operated from a bounded group mentality. I headed into the new pastors orientation with a bit of crusading zeal to move Mennonite Brethren towards being more Anabaptist. I hoped that I could use the fact that the peace position is in our confession of faith as leverage to get the new pastors to change their stance—if they were not already pacifists. Of course I sought to be persuasive, and give good arguments, but fundamentally my attitude was: this is not an option for a Mennonite pastor (or shouldn’t be). I saw those who argued against me as being on the wrong side of a clear line.

I had practiced line-drawing judgmentalism as a way of staying on the right side of a line myself—of being included in the group of true Anabaptists.

Then, reflecting deeper, I recognized that not just was I communicating a strong sense of “ought” in a litmus test way, I also personally felt a strong sense of ought. I was trying to pass a litmus test myself and stay on the right side of a line. I imagined the true Anabaptists among the MB’s (and other Mennonites) cheering me on for addressing this issue directly in this setting. I could also, however, imagine their cheers would turn to jeers if I did not press the issue. So with that group looking over my shoulder I felt pressure to not just talk about peace, but specifically about Christian pacifism in relation to the military. I had practiced line-drawing judgmentalism as a way of staying on the right side of a line myself—of being included in the group of true Anabaptists. Although not as intense, the same dynamic had influenced my teaching on peace in Discipleship and Ethics. In a course rooted in a centered approach I had continued to approach one topic in a bounded group way.

There is enough bounded group paradigm still in my being that thoughts like “what will they think of me?” continue to pull at me. Yet sitting on that plane I knew I did not want to repeat the bounded teaching I had just done. I wanted out. I brought all this to Jesus. I rested my insecurities about being on the wrong side of line in his loving embrace. I felt liberated—and not just emotionally. It liberated me to ask: what is Jesus calling me to do in the class session on peacemaking?

As I stepped away from my litmus test of true Anabaptism and centered on Jesus I felt energy for that class session I had not experienced before.

How can you become a more active agent of peace—no matter where you are on the just war-Christian pacifism spectrum? Think of ways that people in your communities, church, family, city, and nation trust force/power as the best means of dealing with various situations. Think critically about the myth of redemptive violence.

Rather than seeking to get students to line up in agreement with my position, knowing that many would reject or resist, I felt a calling to seek to move everyone in the class to become more active agents of peace—no matter where they are on the just war-Christian pacifism spectrum. I decided to address underlying issues relating to the gospel and the violence-condoning world we live in. I now ask students to think of ways that people in their communities, church, families, city, and nation trust force/power as the best means of dealing with various situations. I seek to lead them to think critically about the myth of redemptive violence. Mostly what I do now in that class is tell stories of Christians (individuals and communities) that imaginatively use other means besides force and coercion to address problems (diverse situations from breaking up fights, defusing riots, VORP, stopping thieves, church conflicts, to cooperative business models). I invite students to imagine how they might do the same.

I think the material I used to share in class is valuable, and I still include it, but now as part of the pre-class reading. Students read a biblical argument for Christian pacifism by Tim Geddert  and my story of converting to that position. They also read a document by the Christian Reformed Church that argues for a just-war position. I make some brief comments on the question of the appropriateness of Christian use of lethal force at the beginning of class. I underline that there is a whole continuum of positions on that question, and encourage them to think deeply and clarify where they are at on the continuum. Then I exhort the Christian pacifists to be active pacifists, and exhort the just-war people to really practice that position, take it seriously, and not just follow wherever the governments leads in any military action. Then I say: “The previous question about whether it is appropriate for Christians to use violence to defend justice is an important one. It does, not, however capture all that is entailed by a gospel of peace. Nor do I think it is even the most important thing for us to reflect on in this class session. Therefore, for the rest of the class I want to press broader and deeper. What does it mean to be agents of peace and reconciliation in our setting today? How can we live out this calling? I believe that God calls all Christians to engage these questions--regardless of how you answered the question in the previous section.”

What has happened as I have shifted from a bounded approach to a centered approach in this class session? The tension level has decreased dramatically. I have had students tell me, “I was braced for this class session. I almost skipped it. But to my surprise, I did not feel attacked and the class was very helpful.” Of course one way to lower tension is to lower demands, to take a fuzzy approach. I have not done that. I have changed the challenge, but the challenge is there. My experience with this class session reinforces my conviction that a centered approach facilitates greater change and transformation than a bounded approach. Previously the class contributed to change in a small slice of the students in the class—those who were unsure of their position and were open to explore. For those who already were pacifists they were unchallenged—the “choir” cheering me on. And those in opposition tended to dig in their heels, or just tune out for this class session—letting the Mennonite do his Mennonite thing. Now, however, most all of the students lean in, engage the material and display an openness to apply it in some way.

I have changed the challenge, but the challenge is there. My experience reinforces my conviction that a centered approach facilitates greater change and transformation than a bounded approach.

Writing this blog has also led me to reflect how a different setting calls for different application of the centered approach.

At the seminary, on the issue of Christian use of lethal force, students have different centers. That, I think, leaves me two appropriate options. I could have a class in which we acknowledge that and in a respectful, non-bounded, way dialogue about our differences. Or, the option I took, leave that question and move to the level of a common center and engage the topic of peacemaking from that shared center. The gathering of Mennonite Brethren pastors is different, or should have been. There should have been a shared center of the confession of faith’s stance. It still bothers me that people were becoming licensed to minister in Mennonite Brethren churches and openly disagreed with the confession of faith’s articulation of our peace position. Even so, my bounded-group approach to that reality was not appropriate or helpful. A centered approach to the problem of having pastors who did not embrace the church’s peace position requires much more than a one-hour session at orientation. It would require conversation much earlier in the process. If the potential pastoral candidate did not affirm the denomination’s position it would be important to discern if there is openness to journey toward that position--to begin dialogue about it. If the person states firmly that he or she will not change, then I think an appropriate centered response would be to suggest the person seek a different denomination that has a center more closely aligned with the potential pastor. A session like the one I gave could be a valuable part of a process like that, but not in the way I gave it.

I advocate for taking a centered approach in all areas. It is, however, especially imperative in this area. We must talk peacefully about peace. As former student and current TA David Ewert observed after editing this blog: “The medium must fit the message. A bounded approach to peacemaking is ineffective because it is self-contradictory. Peacemaking seeks to connect rather than separate people. Therefore humility is vital to the process of dialogue.”

How might you enlarge the number of people you talk with about peacemaking and enlarge the call to peacemaking through taking a more centered approach?


Posted on February 27, 2016 .