Which Gang are you Running With?

I am surrounded by gang members every Friday afternoon. Recently during a jail Bible study “Steve” asked me if God would accept him into the Kingdom if he was still a gang member. During the Bible studies I often make a comment or ask a question that invites them to contrast the ways of the street with the way of Jesus. But I never directly challenge them to leave the gang. Years ago I asked a seminary student and former gang member, Ivan Paz, for counsel on how to approach the gang issue with men in jail. He recommended I not focus on trying to get them to leave the gang. He advocated for leaving that to the Spirit, and recognize it will happen at different times in different ways.

Steve, about 40, explained that he was committed to doing the “family thing” when he gets out, and was beginning to take steps needed to leave the gang. He said, “But in jail you have to run with something.” So he is waiting until he is out. He asked me, quoting scripture, “am I ‘sealed with the Holy Spirit’ or not in this case? Will God consider me restored even though I am still in the gang?”

I tried to do three things in my response. First, I acknowledged that I have no gang experience; I even mentioned talking to Ivan to let Steve know that I do not see myself in a position to tell him what to do and when to do it. Second, most prominently, I sought to shift the focus to God and who God is. I referred back to our study that day. How had Jesus responded to Peter after Peter had denied him? Thirdly, although hesitant to tell him what to do, I also did not want to imply that it is no big deal, that it does not matter. So, seeking to move away from the punctiliar: restored or not, and from the bounded: right side of the line or not; I said, “You are being restored, God is in the process of restoring you.” I emphasized the “being” and underlined the “ing” in “restoring.” I affirmed the work God is doing in his life, and changes and commitments Steve has made. Then I again brought in Peter, and went over some of his ups and downs. We, like Peter, are in process and will have ups and downs.

I think pastorally I did well. Steve seemed to have received comfort from our conversation. But it did bring up in my mind this gang theme that is present every week, visible in the tattoos, and frequently referred to when they talk about “homies”—most often in positive ways. In the world I am from gang activity and membership is solidly in the “wrong” category. Yet when I stepped into Steve's situation it felt more complex. I reflected on what I had said. I clearly did not take a bounded approach. I tried to be centered, but not fuzzy. I was not sure I succeeded, but I also did not  do a lot of second guessing. Rather, my thoughts turned to myself. As is so often the case, entering into the lives of men in the study led me to think about things in my own life differently. This time a Debbie Blue sermon enriched those thoughts.

In reflecting on Herod’s (and all of Jerusalem’s) being disturbed by the news of the birth of a king, the Messiah, she writes: “Well, it does seem like it might be a little disruptive to suddenly have the kingdom of God break into the reality everyone’s gotten used to, after all. It seems like there would be maybe a little tension surrounding the emergence of a whole new order. Mostly it seems like there’s really not room for another king, a whole different way.” Then she turns from Herod to us and the king Jesus. “There’s not room for this king and his ways. It doesn’t mesh very well with what we know, it’s all the wrong shape for any preconceived space. It doesn’t fit. I mean how does ‘love your enemy,’ or ‘turn the other cheek,’ or ‘blessed are the merciful…’ really fly in the Pentagon or the White House or your own psyche? How about ‘you cannot serve God and Mammon.’ Does that fit? . . . It doesn’t fit with our evolutionary drives, for pete’s sake, to gain, to compete, to succeed, to strive for personal success, to make our own way in the world” (Sensual Orthodoxy, 19).

Through the lens of those lines I see how so much of my life is not that different than Steve’s saying, “but here in jail you have to run with something”—you have to be part of a gang. In so much of my life as a seminary professor I am in essence saying, “I have to run with something.” And the institution I run with, as it seeks to serve the King, is still in so many ways enmeshed with the State, the Department of Education, Mammon, academia—institutions and practices where the way of Jesus does not fit.

I think I do well at not coming across to men in the Bible study as holier than thou. I think I do pretty well at practicing a centered approach. Yet, honestly at some level in my being there still is the same sort of line-drawing going on that I did in high school. Being an active gang member is wrong. I am not an active gang member and do not do the sort of things that come with running with a gang. Yet as I reflected on Debbie’s sermon I saw Steve as being ahead, not behind me. He recognizes the tension, knows his running does not fit with the Kingdom of God. Society does not label my running as inappropriate, but fitting in as part of this society is actually a quite questionable thing through the lens of the Kingdom of God.

Debbie ends her sermon not by finger pointing, “Don’t be like Herod,” but rather by underlining the great hope of incarnation, of Epiphany. There is no room; God does not fit. But God came, and keeps coming. God finds a way in."

May we be open to the Light—as Steve has been. And may we all continue in the process of being restored.

Honduras, Galatians, 25 years

The Saturday afternoon sun beat down on the tin roof. I was teaching in a small church in a poor Tegucigalpa neighborhood. We were about halfway through the workshop on how to study the Bible when a woman raised her and asked, ‘My friend told me that since I cut my hair I am no longer saved. Is she right?’

Those are the first lines in my book, Religious No More: Building Communities of Grace and Freedom. That woman’s question 25 years ago led me to suggest to the group that we gather the following Saturday to begin a study of Galatians. While preparing for that study I read an essay on Galatians by Richard Hays that sparked questions, gave me new insights, and left me excited by the possible uses and implications of his interpretation of Galatians. I was nowhere near ready to write the book. I was not even clear enough on these new ideas to try to teach them that next Saturday. But it was the beginning, the birth of what would grow into the book. (To see what ideas in Hays’s essay shook me up and excited me you can read this reflection on the experience and/or listen to this podcast.)

Several months after studying Galatians with that church I had the opportunity to study Galatians with Richard Hays at Duke University. The following summer I again led a study of Galatians in the same church; now using the ideas and approach I had learned from Richard Hays. A few weeks ago I was in that same Tegucigalpa neighborhood, once again teaching in that church. We revisited Galatians during a Saturday afternoon workshop. I taught them something I had not yet encountered when I studied Galatians with them in the 1990’s--Paul Hiebert’s concept of bounded, fuzzy, and centered churches.

Just as I shared new ideas with them, I wanted to hear from them. I wondered what they had observed and learned as they have sought to live out what we discovered together in Galatians years ago. Many from that original group have moved away, but a number remain. Sunday evening Mario and Alba invited those from the church who had participated in the initial Galatians studies to gather in their home for a time of sharing. A few of them had been in the workshop described in first sentences of the book, all of them had participated in the second time we went through Galatians as well as in a year-long Sunday School class on basic theology I taught after we moved back to Honduras in 1996.

Now, June 2017, and then, 25 years ago after the first Galatians study--five people are in both pictures

On Saturday I taught, on Sunday I listened. They shared a number of beautiful stories and great insights. In this short blog I will focus on just one person’s comments. Evelyn Cantor, a teenager when we did the second Galatians study and the theology Sunday school classes,  responded to my open-ended question by reflecting on children’s ministry.

In teaching children, people generally focus on themes, not on Jesus; they talk more of God than of Jesus. In our society and in our churches when people do talk about Jesus the focus is on his birth and death, not his life. I try to focus on Jesus as a role model for us and revelation of God. I ask who Jesus is and let that shape the way children think about who God is. People talk a lot about sin, but it is in the sense of standards and rules, and it is cloaked with a sense of accusation and threat. It is important to talk about sin because sin does bring harmful consequences in our lives. I seek to help children and youth reflect on sin, but without fear. Sin is real, but we can use other language. For instance, I ask, “Are you oriented toward Jesus or oriented toward destruction?”

There is much I could say about Evelyn’s comments, and perhaps that is the first observation—the contrast between her brevity and my longer statements. In just a minute or two she made a number of excellent critiques and profound theological statements. In contrast, even now it is hard for me to resist expounding on each line. The depth of her theological thinking impresses me, and her ability to state things with clarity in such concise ways. I will resist adding theological commentary; I invite you to read her lines again—slowly. Allow the Spirit to guide you in reflection on them.

I will, however, reflect a bit on teaching—and I am using that term in the broadest sense. I never taught Evelyn in a formal setting with assignments and grades. No, it was Sunday school classes, workshops, sermons, and conversations. Many of you who read this are teachers in this broader sense.

Her words encouraged me greatly. Teaching can make a difference; it can be a multiplying activity. I do not mean to claim credit for all she said and is doing. But my teaching contributed. Teachers, be encouraged!

Some of her lines clearly echoed things I had taught her church community—as I just said, that is encouraging, fulfilling. But what excited me more was that she said things that I had not said. Sure, they are related to ideas we had studied together, but the phrasing and application are hers—I will borrow from her! The line that particularly stands out to me is: “Are you oriented toward Jesus or oriented toward destruction?” It is exciting, as a teacher, to see how something you taught “stuck,” even more exciting when God’s weaves together something you taught, with the person’s experience, other teaching, her own insights and comes up with something new—teacher becomes learner.

How is this group doing as they seek to live out what we learned from Paul’s letter many years ago? Perhaps the best answer is not a comment made by someone who has been there for 25 years, but a comment by a newcomer. Maria, after having experienced bounded group religiosity in other churches, recently came to this church. On Saturday, during a small group discussion, Maria said, “Now I have been changing, not because of rules and threats, but because I am loved.”

May we, like Evelyn, think carefully about ways our talk about God and life can be even more Jesus-centered; and through that may others, like Maria, become more oriented toward Jesus and less oriented toward destruction—because of love, not fear.

Whiteness

I recently read derogatory comments a prominent political leader made about non-white immigrants swarming into our towns and cities and ruining our way of life. It was not Donald Trump, but Benjamin Franklin. And the threatening masses were not Latinos from south of the border, but immigrants from Germany—my ancestors.

“Observations Concerning the Increase of Mankind, Peopling of Countries, etc.” – what follows is an excerpt from the 1751 original by Benjamin Franklin

[W]hy should the Palatine Boors be suffered to swarm into our Settlements, and by herding together establish their Language and Manners to the Exclusion of ours? Why should Pennsylvania, founded by the English, become a Colony of Aliens, who will shortly be so numerous as to Germanize us instead of our Anglifying them, and will never adopt our Language or Customs, any more than they can acquire our Complexion.

Which leads me to add one Remark: That the Number of purely white People in the World is proportionably very small. All Africa is black or tawny. Asia chiefly tawny. America (exclusive of the new Comers) wholly so. And in Europe, the Spaniards, Italians, French, Russians and Swedes, are generally of what we call a swarthy Complexion; as are the Germans also, the Saxons only excepted, who with the English, make the principal Body of White People on the Face of the Earth. I could wish their Numbers were increased. And while we are, as I may call it, Scouring our Planet, by clearing America of Woods, and so making this Side of our Globe reflect a brighter Light to the Eyes of Inhabitants in Mars or Venus, why should we in the Sight of Superior Beings, darken its People? why increase the Sons of Africa, by Planting them in America, where we have so fair an Opportunity, by excluding all Blacks and Tawneys, of increasing the lovely White and Red? But perhaps I am partial to the Complexion of my Country, for such Kind of Partiality is natural to Mankind.

I have always been labeled as white—by myself and others. Yet not according to Ben Franklin. My ancestors are the exact people he sees as a threat to whites. They came from Germany and swarmed into Franklin’s beloved Pennsylvania. My father is a 6th generation German-American. And even after five generations in Pennsylvania they still spoke German. My grandfather did not learn English until he went to school. According to Franklin I am not white, but a swarthy German—a threat to the ways of whiteness.

It is common place to observe that most of those who complain about immigrants today are part of ethnic groups that once were slandered and scorned in similar ways. Franklin’s comments reinforce that important observation. Important, but not new for me. What was new for me was the realization that there was a time when some people would not have seen me as white.

I thought of whiteness as a biological trait—a given, about DNA, not based on subjective perceptions. But Franklin labels as non-white a whole host of people that I would have thought of as clearly, biologically, white. We could get into shades of paleness, and say Franklin is talking about people whose skin is REALLY pale. I do happen to be a bit darker skinned than my two brothers, perhaps I got more of the swarthy German blood and they got a bit more of my mother’s Irish, English and Dutch blood. But if it had been Irish, instead of Germans, swarming into Pennsylvania would Franklin have said anything different? If he can label the Swedes swarthy, he would have found a way to call the Irish non-white as well.

What is whiteness for Franklin? Although he links it to a physical trait, skin color, it clearly is first and foremost about culture, language--a way of life that is deemed superior to others. Franklin’s whiteness is not a biological given, it is subjective and constructed. Realizing something is constructed, not a given, creates space for evaluation. (I remember distinctly the new space I felt to evaluate the dispensationalism I had grown up with when I found it had been developed in the 19th century. I had assumed it was the way people had always read the Bible.) Franklin’s comments point to whiteness not being what I thought it was and invite taking a step back and asking: what is whiteness?

Prejudice, discrimination, one people group feeling superior and oppressing another has gone on for millennia. But categorizing people by race—skin color and physical features--is relatively new. Willie Jennings, in his book The Christian Imagination: Theology and the Origins of Race, locates the origins of racial categorization in the African slave trade. There were no black people in Africa until they were ripped away from their land and tribe, which had given them identity, and were mixed together with people of other tribes on a boat. Before, Akan or Yoruba, now black. Using primary sources from the colonial period Jennings chronicles in great depth how whiteness developed as Europeans sought ways to legitimize enslavement, subjugation, or destruction of native peoples in Africa and the Americas. As Franklin displays, whites were considered superior. Others’ racial categorizations of whiteness, however, were much broader than Franklin’s. For instance the Spanish and Portuguese, very “swarthy” and definitely not white according to Franklin, led the way in developing whiteness, and very much put themselves in that category.

In some ways the category “white” was fuzzy and clearly not first and foremost about skin color. For instance on slave ships all slaves were black and all crew members, of whatever shade, were considered white.[1] In other ways the categorization sought precision and exactness. Different people group’s status, intellect, and ability were linked to where they landed on the light-dark spectrum. The Spanish had intricate charts categorizing people depending on how much Spanish, African or indigenous blood they had—16 different categories![2]

We see in these examples the same thing observed in Franklin. In one sense it is all about skin color, but in another sense skin color is a convenient vehicle that is flexed and stretched. Jennings displays that whiteness was developed as a way to interpret, organize and narrate the world, and, crucially, to legitimize certain peoples’ perspectives as the central facilitating reality in the world.[3] It was about so much more than skin color. In her recent thesis Noemi Vega captures, concisely, some of the breadth and depth that Jennings’s words point to.

Racial formation began with a forceful social imagination that saw the world through a white human ideal. This ideal would be used to re-create and reinterpret human bodies and their worth along a racial scale for economic profit, becoming a hegemonic orientation of reality. Whiteness is the power to sustain the social imagination that promotes white bodies. It is hegemonic in usurping identity rooted in connectedness to land and one another and promoting an individualized identity formed apart from geography, history, or common memory. Whiteness didn’t just privilege white bodies, it also shaped societal and economic structures such as the racist immigration laws in the early twentieth century . . . Whiteness further institutionalized racism through Jim Crow laws and continued to flourish even after emancipation. Whiteness impacted the way people lived, by replacing the communal lifestyle of indigenous peoples with an entrepreneurial, capitalistic one focused on material profit.[4]

The above paragraphs begins to answer the question: what is whiteness? The question, however, calls for much more exploration, and reflection on how to respond, than I can do in one blog. I will offer an invitation and a few short observations.

Invitation

In the last three years I worked with three students who used Willie Jennings’s book in their thesis. I read Jennings's book myself, and used it as a text in my Contemporary Theology course. I have learned from and been challenged by Jennings and each of the three theses. Although having use of Jennings in common, each thesis asks different questions and uses his work in distinct ways. I recommend them highly and invite you to read them.

Willie Jennings

A great place to start is his short article in the Spring 2015 Divinity, the Duke Divinity School magazine—pages 5-9, “Overcoming Racial Faith.”

Explore in his book, The Christian Imagination: Theology and the Origins of Race in great depth what is summarized in the above article

A short article that focuses on land and place in relation to this theme, including comments by Jennings on ways for churches to respond: “Possessed by the Land: An Interview with Deanna Zantingh and Willie James Jennings.” 

Videos of presentations by Willie Jennings:  “Race, Faith, and Community”  and “Disrupting Image: Overcoming the White Aesthetic Regime”

Jennings has written a theological commentary on Acts, just released. I have not read it, but look forward to doing so.

Students who used Jennings’s book in their theses – they are available electronically from the Fresno Pacific University library via these links.

• Nathan Hunt, “On Earth as it is in Heaven: Place, Shalom, and the Creation of the World,” 2016
• Ivan Paz, “The Myth of Ontological Human Sinfulness: How the Notion that Humans are Inherently Sinful Contributes to the Institutional Scapegoating of the Urban Poor,” 2015.
• Noemi Vega, “Entre Nos: Covenant Epistemology and a Theology of Immanuel for Racial Healing Among Us,” 2017.

Observations

I long ago recognized the reality of white privilege—that many doors open easier for me than for people of color. Through reading Nathan’s thesis I recognized that whiteness is much more than just perks and privileges that I have as an individual. Reading Noemi and Willie built on and expanded that awareness. Important as it is to work at that micro level of individual opportunity and privilege we must go further than that. Let these authors point the way.

It is hard for me as a white person to see whiteness. It is the way things are, normal—a given. If you are white, I invite you to let these authors help you see the water you swim in. They provide a helpful mix of perspectives: an African-American, Euro-American, Mexican/Salvadoran-American, and Mexican-American.

As the subtitle to Jennings’s book implies, theology is not a separate entity that we bring into this conversation. Theology has been woven into whiteness and racial thinking since the first days of slavery and the first days of the conquest of the Americas. One response to that is to observe that if theology contributed to the weaving of that tapestry it can also contribute to weaving a new tapestry. But, we cannot use the same threads. Before we start weaving anew we must recognize how theology was distorted through its use in the tapestry of whiteness and race. In different ways each of the authors help us see distortions and point to alternatives.

Place – so much more I could say here, but I just will call attention to the fact that all four authors give attention to place. Something that whiteness has downplayed in theology and life.

Much of Jennings work is history, yet it is a book rooted in and centered on Jesus. That sings forth on the first page and the last section. Jennings is not pitting black theology against other theology, nor just calling for equality. He dares to believe and hope that through Jesus we can experience intimacy--something beyond racial equality. Let us not, however, simply celebrate that Willie Jennings, like us, sees Jesus as the answer and move on. We must take very seriously the hundreds of pages of work he did digging deep into the history of whiteness and the theology woven into that history. If we simply state Jesus is the answer and ignore the way whiteness has influenced us and our view of Jesus, we will not experience the intimacy that Jennings points to. That is because, as Nathan Hunt has observed, whiteness as principality and power, including the supremacy and hierarchy it establishes, forms character that is diametrically opposed to the identity and character provided by Jesus through the Spirit. (Compare, for instance the words of Benjamin Franklin with the actions of Jesus or words of Paul.) The intimacy Jennings points to requires transformation of character. As explored in a part of this website, character change is not quick or easy.

Let us dare to look honestly at how whiteness and race have shaped us (whether white or people of color); let us dare to look honestly at ways that common conceptions of Jesus have been clothed in garments of whiteness, and let us risk, at the micro and macro level, allowing the Spirit of Jesus to guide us in imagining and living in new paradigms. Let these authors guide you in first steps. May the result be greater intimacy in Jesus.

[1] Willie James Jennings, The Christian Imagination: Theology and the Origins of Race (New Haven, CN: Yale, 2010), 180.

[2] Jennings, 80.

[3] Willie James Jennings, “Overcoming Racial Faith,” Divinity: Duke University, 14, no. 2 (April 2015): 9

[4] Noemi Vega Quiñones, “Entre Nos: Covenant Epistemology and a Theology of Immanuel for Racial Healing Among Us” (MA thesis, Fresno Pacific Biblical Seminary, 2017), 15-16.

Seven Strategies for Finding Freedom from Digital Adultery

Guest Blog by Forest Benedict

Both God and pornography grabbed my attention at a young age. At age six, my father introduced me to Jesus and at twelve, a classmate presented me with pornography. For years these two loves would compete, as I sought to serve God while secretly hiding an insatiable hunger for self-destructive sexual indulgence. This conflict continued for over a decade. Years of false starts and self-induced suffering eventually resulted in surrender. I finally sought help.

How God redeemed my story is beyond belief. I am now a therapist who specializes in the treatment of sexual addiction. I teach and train therapists to assist individuals both overcome by addiction and overwhelmed by betrayal trauma. God continues to use my work and writing to bring hope and help to others.

Maybe you can relate to my story. The odds are that everyone reading this is either experiencing the draw of pornography or knows someone who is. Sadly, the Church is steeped in sexual addiction. Though too few are talking about it, many men, women, and children are mesmerized by this siren’s song. Pornography has a strangle-hold on the Church, with an estimated 2/3 of Christian men and 1/3 of Christian women viewing it.[1] Adolescents between the ages of 12 to 17 are the largest consumers of pornography[2] and the estimated average age of first exposure is 11 years old.[3] In shame-driven isolation, too many stay silent.

Harmed Relationships

Pornography use harms all areas of life, especially relationships. Most couples come to me in crisis. So often, one partner experienced early exposure to pornography and believed the myth that married sex would substitute their sexual compulsivity. In shame, they concealed a secret addiction. This was the first betrayal that would someday surface. Maybe they abstained for a season but, eventually, when the stresses and struggles of life emerged, they often ran back to their comfort of choice: pornography.

When spouses seek a pixilated prostitute, they trade their relationship for wreckage. Here are three ways marriages are harmed when this happens:

1. Hindering intimacy. Connection and addiction cannot coexist in a relationship.[4] When one partner uses pornography addictively, it prevents intimacy. The connection that comes from reaching out to their spouse does not occur when they run to pornography to cope with life’s pressures. Time and attention that could be invested in their relationship is instead spent on sexually compulsive pursuits.[5]

A similar impact on one’s relationship with God can also result. Repeatedly reaching to pornography rather than God’s outstretched arms is the sad story of one who forsakes their “first love.”[6] They must choose between lust and love but cannot have both.

2. Stifling sexuality. It is baffling to me that pornography is sometimes promoted as a sexual aid. If anything, pornography use diminishes sexual satisfaction.[7] Premature ejaculation[8] and erectile dysfunction[9] can be consequences. Not only can pornography use diminish sexual ability, it also alters sexual attitudes.[10] According to Covenant Eyes, 88 percent of porn scenes contain physical aggression and 49 percent contain verbal aggression.[11] It is no surprise that this skews views of sex. The “blessed” and satisfying sexuality hailed in Proverbs 5:18 is light-years away from the demeaning distortion of sex presented in most pornography.

3. Causing unparalleled pain. Even when sexual addiction only involves pornography, it is often experienced as infidelity.[12] Many partners who undergo this type of relational trauma experience symptoms of PTSD, losing their sense of safety.[13] These partners can experience anxiety, depression, rage, hyper-vigilance, intrusive thoughts, and shame. They may blame themselves, becoming preoccupied with their body image. They may lose trust in their spouse and in God. Sadly, these symptoms often persist long after the day of discovery. Covenant Eyes reported over half of divorce cases being related to pornography addiction,[14] so it is apparent that pornography use can poison a marriage.

Countless Consequences

Pornography use harms more than just marriages. Relationships with children, God, and others are impacted. Neurologically, self-control is impaired.[15] Self-image suffers. Witness to the world is silenced. Justice is undermined, as the porn industry propels sex trafficking forward.[16] No sphere of life is untouched. How fitting that the plea of Proverbs is to keep to a path far from the adulteress.[17]

Specific Strategies

For the reader who is ready to pursue a new path, here are seven crucial strategies for finding freedom:

1. Humble yourself. Attitude is everything. Pride pours gas on the fires of addictive desires. Humility douses the flames. The sobering truth I see repeatedly is this: Find humility or humility will find you. The latter includes incomprehensible losses. Choose with great care.

2. Find same-gender support. Accountability is essential for both prevention and confession. When tempted, humbly call for help. Grace-based, not shame-based, support will sustain lasting change. Both addicts and partners can benefit from a guided group setting where their secrets are safe and their hearts can find healing.

3.  Go deep with God. Brennan Manning writes that the journey from mistrust to trust can be like a “second conversion.”[18] Letting God compassionately hold one’s heart in trying and tempting times is much different than simply memorizing scripture. Both may be helpful but recovery will entail daily experiences with God, not just learning about God.

4. External and internal protection. Easy access to the portable prostitute is a trap. Protecting devices with filters and accountability software is often necessary. Implementing internal protection means learning self-care routines that strengthen self-control. Adequate sleep, exercise, and healthy eating will bolster the brain’s resistance to temptation.[19] For those traumatized, self-care is equally essential.

5. Seek out a skilled professional. Stories abound of those who sought support in all the wrong places. Seeking someone who specializes in sexual addiction treatment can prevent unnecessary pain and promote lasting healing (See Week 1 of the Recovery Roadmap). This will be important for both addicts and their spouses. Couples in recovery must be coached as they learn how to connect, likely for the first time in the history of their marriage.

6. Disclose with discretion. Dumping every detail of a pornography problem on a partner can be detrimental. Honesty and transparency about the past and present are necessary but without the guidance of a trained professional, some specifics may cause unnecessary wounds.

7. Be patient with your partner. Recovery for both addicts and partners is a long-term commitment. Lasting change will require significant soul-work. Patience will provide endurance for the lengthy road ahead.

The Hope of Renewal

For both the reader who is far down the path of pornography and their traumatized spouse, there is hope. God has the unrivaled ability to resurrect that which was once dead. For those who have humbly sought help, I have seen relationships reconditioned to a new level of intimacy. There may be years between the present reality and a healed marriage. Yet, this rough road to recovery is far superior to the instability of a divided heart, the despair of disconnection, and the anguish of an unfulfilled life lost to lust.

I believe God is raising up a Church that rejects pornography and seeks authentic connection. As God unshackles us, He invites us into His mission of setting captives free. Though this path to healing is steep and treacherous at times, it is incredibly rewarding. And the view from the top is spectacular. It is my steadfast hope that someday I’ll see you there.

This is an excerpt from: Life After Lust: Stories & Strategies for Sex & Pornography Addiction Recovery by Forest Benedict, LMFT, SATP https://forestbenedict.com/  

Originally published in Christian Leader, Jan. 2016. http://www.usmb.org/departments/Christian-Leader/article/When-secrets-surface.html

[1] Laaser, M. (2015). Lecture presented in the SATP program, Mid-America Nazarene University (online)

[2] Internet Pornography Statistics. (2006-2008). Retrieved from http://www.mykidsbrowser.com/pornography_stats.php

[3] Internet Pornography Statistics - TopTenREVIEWS. (2014). Retrieved from http://www.toptenreviews.com/internet-pornography-statistics/

[4] Reid, R. C., & Woolley, S. R. (2006). Using emotionally focused therapy for couples to resolve attachment ruptures created by hypersexual behavior. Sexual Addiction & Compulsivity, 13(2-3), 219-239.

[5] Reid, R. C., & Woolley, S. R. (2006). Using emotionally focused therapy for couples to resolve attachment ruptures created by hypersexual behavior. Sexual Addiction & Compulsivity, 13(2-3), 219-239.

[6] Revelation 2:4; Holy Bible, NIV

[7] Zillmann, D., & Bryant, J. (1988). Pornography’s impact on sexual satisfaction1. Journal of Applied Social Psychology, 18(5), 438-453.

[8] Castleman, M. (2010, May 28). Premature ejaculation: the two causes of men’s #1 sex problem. Retrieved from https://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/all-about-sex/201005/premature-ejaculation-the-two-causes-mens-1-sex-problem

[9] Deem, G. (2014, June 9). Porn: many teens watch it, and two reasons that’s a problem. Retrieved from http://www.huffingtonpost.com/gabe-deem/porn-many-teens-watch-it-_b_5450478.html

[10] Doidge, N. (2007). The brain that changes itself: stories of personal triumph from the frontiers of brain science. New York: Viking.

[11] Bridges, A. J., Wosnitzer, R., Scharrer, E., Sun, C., & Liberman, R. (2010). Aggression and sexual behavior in best-selling pornography videos: A Content Analysis Update. Violence Against Women, 16(10), 1065-1085.

[12] Weeks, N. (2010). Effects of pornography on relationships. Families & Communities. Retrieved from http://extension.usu.edu/files/publications/publication/FC_Marriage_2010-01pr.pdf

[13] Sisterhood of Support. (2014, July 21). Barbara steffens part 1. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d3VkPLFgLZU

[14] American Academy of Matrimonial Lawyers. (2002, November 14). Is the internet bad for your marriage? online affairs, pornographic sites playing greater role in divorces. Retrieved from http://www.prnewswire.com/news-releases/is-the-internet-bad-for-your-marriage-online-affairs-pornographic-sites-playing-greater-role-in-divorces-76826727.html

[15] Hilton, D. L. (2009). He restoreth my soul: understanding and breaking the chemical and spiritual chains of pornography addiction through the atonement of jesus christ. San Antonio, TX: Forward Press Pub. 71.

[16] Pornography and Sex Trafficking. (n.d.). Trafficking within the professional porn industry. Retrieved from http://stoptraffickingdemand.com/trafficking-within-the-industry/

[17] Proverbs 5:8; Holy Bible, NIV

[18] Manning, B. (2000). Ruthless trust: the ragamuffin’s path to god. San Francisco: Harper.

[19] McGonigal, K. (2012, February 01). The willpower instinct. Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V5BXuZL1HAg&t=1s

Postmodern Christians, We Have a Problem (Or Two)

Guest blog by Dallas Nord, Fresno Pacific Biblical Seminary student, farmer and writer.

Here’s the situation: We are millennials. We grew up, came of age, and entered (or are entering) adulthood all within a postmodern society. That’s important—and perhaps problematic—if you’re a Christian. If you’re a millennial Christian like me, then you probably don’t really love the ways that Christians and the church have behaved, how they’ve read Scripture, or how they’ve engaged society and politics in recent years (or in recent centuries!). Why not? Well, it has something to do with the transition from modernism (key words: reason, proof, objectivity, universal truth, etc.) to postmodernism (key words: culture, context, subjectivity, diversity, relative truth, etc.) that has been happening over the last few decades in our part of the world. Young folk like us who are accustomed to this postmodern landscape are far more comfortable with uncertainty, ambiguity, and diversity than our parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents were. While these older generations (who grew up, came of age, and entered adulthood within modernism) have trouble accepting ideas, lifestyles, and beliefs that seem to contradict their own, our generation is actually pretty good at being generous and accepting of those who differ from us. We recognize value and validity in each person’s experience and the beliefs that emerge from those experiences. We think it is a bad idea to hate people just because they’re different, and we think it’s a really good, Christlike idea to love everyone no matter how different from us they may be. Props to the millennials for figuring that one out! (Ok, so we’re not the first ones to figure out the whole “love everyone” thing, but we certainly say it louder than generations past.)

However, we may have a problem. Actually we might have two problems. Well ok, we have lots of problems, but I’ll only address two of them here. First, those modernist, older folks that call themselves Christians but don’t seem to be following the same Jesus as us—we don’t like to allow them the title of “real Christians.” That title we reserve for people like us who truly care about social ills in the world, who value ethics over doctrine or tradition, and who know how to be nice to people who are different from us. Aside from the fact that this causes us to be mean to “the mean Christians,” this posture assumes that we can judge who belongs to God’s people and who doesn’t. Karl Barth—the most important theologian of the twentieth century[1]—argued that there have been multiple bases by which some Christians have tried to discern who the “true Christians” among them were. Some tried basing it on sacraments like baptism—if you’re baptized, you’re “in.” Others tried basing it on holiness or morality—if you don’t screw up, you’re “in.” Both of these were misled, Barth says. While we cannot know with certainty who is like chaff and who is like wheat in God’s eyes, we can know with certainty that Christ’s redemptive act is as much for them as it is for us. Barth writes,

But when we believe in Jesus Christ, presupposing that we are in the community which is before us and that we live with it, we are required to accept as a working hypothesis that other members as well as ourselves can be holy and not unholy; not on the basis of their own thought and will and action, but in spite of the doubtful nature of all human thought and will and action, as those who are separated by the Lord of the community and therefore genuinely, as real Christians.[2]

So even though those old, stiff-necked modernists in our church are old, stiff-necked, and modernists, we do not get to exclude them from the body of Christ. This should be easy for us—we are all about inclusion, not exclusion—but it is terribly difficult to uphold that virtue when it comes to our own people.

Speaking of inclusivity, that leads us to our second problem. It seems that in our effort to be loving and to embrace everyone no matter what, we have sacrificed our ability to truly speak into each other’s lives. When we take postmodernism’s tolerance virtue to its extreme, we become unable to call our friends (and ourselves) away from certain ideas or behaviors (in church we call this “repentance”) and toward better ways of life (maybe we can call this “salvation”) because to do so would seem intolerant or unloving. We are a generation that is really good at affirming others; we know how to say “Yes.” We have trouble, though, ever saying “No.” In reaction to modernism’s failure to embrace others in love, we have chosen to err on the side of silent acceptance. Again, I’m pretty sure that this is better than outright hatred and rejection, but if we truly want to love our friends and neighbors, won’t we want what’s best for them? Sometimes while saying Yes to them, that Yes will need to include a No. At least, that’s what Karl Barth said.

I think Barth is right. Just take a look at Jesus. I’m sure most of us millennial Christians would affirm that Jesus is a Yes kind of guy. He didn’t reject anyone, even if they were unclean, poor, foreigners, liars, traitors, racists. He’s the very person that inspires our loving embrace of all people! And rightfully so. Notice, though, that he also wasn’t afraid of confrontation. In his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus explicitly says that his kingdom is for the poor and the vulnerable and the outcast. That’s a pretty big YES! But he doesn’t leave it at that. He still has words of admonition: don’t be angry at each other (Mt. 5:22a), don’t insult each other (Mt. 5:22b), don’t give into lust (Mt. 5:27-30), don’t act violently (Mt. 5:35-42), love even your enemies (Mt. 5:43-48), etc. These are the Noes. But recognize that these are not bad ideas. These are all good ideas for better living. Jesus only gave a No within a larger Yes. Now think about the disciples—especially Peter. Jesus gave each of them a big Yes when he called them to be his followers and friends. All along the way, though, he was calling them out wherever they were failing or missing the point. Despite those moments of rebuke, however, they never felt rejected by Jesus. They kept on following him (except for Judas I suppose) and continued his mission once he was gone.

This should be a model for us as we dialogue with our neighbors and friends. We should lovingly embrace each one of them—certainly!—but let’s not be afraid to encourage real transformation in their lives when needed. A “Yes” without a “No” is just a “So What.” A loving Yes will want the best for the other and will include a No to the things that are not life-giving for that person. Sometimes we will need to say to our friends, “I’ve experienced this new way of life in Jesus and have given up [insert old way of life here]. I think you would find it refreshing and life-giving as well.” Were there things that you felt called away from once you started following Jesus? Name those things and explain how life was better as you left those things behind. When I began to encounter Jesus in a meaningful way, I felt compelled to give up my aspirations of wealth and “success” as popularly defined. I totally rerouted my college and career direction in search of a more service-oriented lifestyle. And that has made life so much fuller for me. Based on that experience, I can suggest a similar repentance and transformation in other’s lives.

Today, my wife and I like to borrow a line from Wes Anderson’s film, Moonrise Kingdom. In the film, Suzy tells Sam that she wishes she were an orphan. Sam, an orphan, responds, “I love you, but you don’t know what you’re talking about.” Suzy pauses briefly, then replies, “I love you too.” Sam’s response to Suzy’s insensitive remark is a No within a Yes. It is a loving rebuke. And it is effective. Suzy gets it. She hears and feels the No, but it is the Yes that she feels most deeply and responds to. So while we probably shouldn't use Sam’s words exactly, we should carry the spirit of them when we need to communicate a No to our friends. Let the Yes be so true and so meaningful that the No is understood as an act of honest love.

In sum, if we want to be embracing of all people, then that will include embracing our modernist brothers and sisters in the church. Even when we speak a No to their actions, attitudes, or theology, let’s be sure we situate it within the Yes of affirmation to their membership in the body of Christ. And if we want to be good neighbors to our fellow postmodernists, then we cannot be afraid to include a No with our Yes as we engage them in relationship. To give only a No to the church and only a Yes to our friends is to fail to love on both fronts. Let us be people of love on every front.

[1] If you don’t know who Karl Barth is, Google him after reading this. For now just know that he was a brilliant preacher and theologian who didn’t really love the whole modernism thing either.

[2] Karl Barth, Church Dogmatics IV.1: The Doctrine of Reconciliation, 699.

Inequality: Businesses Lessening the Gap, Healing the Wounds

My previous blog dug below the surface of the oft-asked question of how to help the poor. I explored ways to lessen the shalom-sapping effects of inequality. I advocated for healing the wounds of shame and buffering people from social evaluative anxieties through radical inclusiveness and kinship in Christ. Of course the more obvious response to address the problems flowing from inequality is to deal with the economics of the gap between the rich and the poor. To have dug deeper and focused on shame was not meant to invalidate the significance of this more obvious action. As I wrote last month, one economic strategy focuses on the macro level. Richard Wilkinson calls for this sort of action in his Ted Talk—careful to give suggestions that those on the right could embrace and others that those on the left could embrace. Certainly these strategies are worthy of our attention and effort. In this blog, however, I want to focus at the micro level of individual businesses. Christian business leaders have tremendous potential impact. They can directly affect the earnings of people involved in their business; and because of the amount of time employees spend at work, employers have great opportunity to also address shame and status anxiety—the focus of the previous blog.

The possibilities excite me, but I am not an expert in business or the sociology of inequality. So after I had the above thoughts a few years ago I wrote to friend with more expertise. I asked what he thought of the idea of churches exhorting business owners to lessen inequality in their businesses. I suggested that might include more profit sharing and changing of salaries within a company, but just as importantly taking actions to increase the dignity of everyone who works there. He responded:

Mark,

This is very good. I had a conversation just today with my oldest brother "David," who is Human Resources director for a large RV company. He was asking me what he might do to increase "buy in" among employees since they have been experiencing a higher turnover rate recently. They are working on improving pay and the company owner is committed to doing that although in small increments, but David would like to do some other things. I told him that an underlying issue is communicating to workers that they, their views, and their work, are valued and respected. So we had a conversation very similar to the closing lines in your e-mail. Incidentally, my second oldest brother is the owner of a different RV-related company. He has worked at what you describe through profit-sharing for all workers, but also through weekly updates on company productivity, profits, and "lean-ness"—a topic in which he is deeply invested and wants everyone to share in. He believes transparency makes a big difference. “Mike,” (my second oldest brother) also told me that they recently lost a very good worker simply because the worker, a welder, was frustrated because the company had sold a number of the units he'd worked on at a discount. It made him angry to know that his work was being "under-valued." This story came up as we discussed the importance of communicating to workers that they and their work has real value and dignity.

Hearing about his brothers reminded me of my friend Jacobo in Honduras. I made this short video to tell how his passion to follow God’s call for justice in Isaiah 58 led to surprising changes in his factory—surprising to Jacobo in the way honor and dignity played a key role, and surprising to the skeptical factory owner that profit sharing actually lead to increased profits.

Seeking to lessen inequality in business is not a call to turn businesses into charities. People who, unlike me, have expertise in these fields share examples of how raising the wages of a company’s lowest paid workers helps not just society, but the business’s bottom line; and how the cooperative model makes good business sense. Others would likely debate these points, but in the end we are not trying to give business advice. Rather the Church is calling business people, as it calls people in other roles and professions, to seek to have their ultimate loyalty to the Kingdom of God and ask how they might follow the ways of Jesus throughout the week.

As I wrote last month, in relation to the inequality gap, it is crucial that the church itself is seeking to live in a centered way and not setting up in-groups and out-groups and status hierarchies. Churches can also challenge their members to apply this in their lives outside of the church—especially those who as supervisors have authority over others. How are they treating people with less income and less social or employee status than they have? How are they thinking about wages and profit-sharing? Have they considered shifting to an employee owned model? Think of the impact if all Christian business people across the nation, around the globe, made an increased effort in the weeks ahead to take actions like Jacobo, David and Mike!  The result at the macro level of all these micro-level efforts would be immense. How can we encourage others to follow the example of Jacobo, David and Mike?

Helping the Poor: Getting Beyond the Superficial

Generally there is some truth in obvious answers. But often digging deeper leads to greater insight. For instance, in recent years countries in Central America have led the world in murders per capita. Gangs are one of several contributing factors. With greater urgency people have asked: why do youth join gangs? Perhaps the most common answer is poverty and a lack of jobs. My friend, sociologist Bob Brenneman, agreed that poverty is a crucial factor. But he made the important observation: not all, not even a majority, of impoverished youth in the same neighborhood join gangs. So, he dug deeper asking: why these youth? What is different?

In his book, Homies and Hermanos: God and Gangs in Central America, Bob describes joining a gang as a desperate grasp for respect. Repeatedly, the sixty-three ex-gang members he interviewed carried profound shame from painful years in especially dysfunctional families and other experiences of social exclusion. The honor and a sense of belonging offered by gangs had a special power of attraction for these youth. Bob’s digging led to this and other insights. It is a great book filled with captivating narratives and excellent analysis. I commend it to you. I also commend following his example—digging deeper rather than simply accepting conventional wisdom. For instance…..

Many use levels of wealth as the obvious and simplest indicator of quality of life—a rich county is a better place to live than a poorer one. In response to the question:  How do we help the poor suffer less? The obvious answer is increase a poor individual’s income, or a poor country’s GDP. We might think of this as poverty line thinking—what matters is helping boost people above that line into a better life. I certainly had that mindset when I lived in Honduras. Granted, a certain amount of resources are necessary for thriving, but if we dig deeper this answer is not necessarily the best one.

Kate Pickett and Richard Wilkinson go deeper than the obvious answer in their book The Spirit Level. They combined various measures of well-being, such as life expectancy, literacy, infant mortality, incarceration, mental illness, addiction, social mobility, obesity and homicides, and found that, amongst developed nations the ones with the highest level of well-being were not the richest ones, but those with the lowest levels of economic inequality between the richest 20% and the poorest 20%. And those with the worst levels of well-being were not the poorest but those with the highest levels of economic inequality.

Levels of economic inequality

Note in this graph that Portugal and the USA stand right next to each other in level of inequality, yet if the graph displayed per capita income they would be at opposite ends of the graph and it would be Norway, not Portugal right next to the USA. If we went with conventional wisdom equating wealth with quality of life the USA and Norway would be best, and Portugal the worst. But in fact Portugal and the USA are next to each other, the worst, in the following graph of well-being.

Inequality is the key determining factor. Another way of making this point is to look at a graph that charts income rather than inequality. Unlike the above graph, there is no correlation between the two factors—the dots are scattered all over the graph.

What we observe in these summary charts matches chart after chart on the individual factors, and charts that compare states as well.

Thus, after digging deeper we observe that, in a general sense, the most important thing to do to help the poor thrive is not increase income levels but to lower the level of inequality. (Even as I write that sentence I resist. Something in me shouts out: “but raising incomes levels matter!” and protests: “This study is only of ‘developed’ nations.” True. There are countries, contexts, and individuals where increased resources are crucial. But, even in those situations inequality matters—poor people in a poor country with low inequality are better off than poor people in a poor country with high inequality.) Returning to the earlier poverty line image, we might conclude, certainly it is a good thing to help people get above that line, but we are missing something crucial if we only look at that one line and not also the line at the top that identifies the very wealthy. We must pay attention to the two lines and the gap between those lines—and seek to lessen that gap between the rich and the poor.

When one digs deeper you find not only better answers to the question asked, but discover important things you were not even asking. Here is a big one. As Wilkinson explains in a Ted Talk it is not just that the poor are worse off in countries with high inequality—those in the middle and the rich are affected to. All across the income spectrum people are affected negatively by high inequality. So, lowering inequality helps not just the poor; it helps all.

This calls for action. We can increase shalom for all by lessening the inequality gap. One response is at the macro level. Wilkinson calls for this sort of action in his Ted Talk—careful to give suggestions that those on the right could embrace and others that those on the left could embrace. Certainly these are worthy of our attention and effort. Again, however, digging deeper has value. What is behind this? Why does greater inequality lessen shalom? The Ted Talk does not answer address that question, but in their book Wilkinson and Picket do. After comparing data from various countries, their conclusion is: “Greater inequality seems to heighten people’s social evaluation anxieties by increasing the importance of social status” (43). Status competition increases, and with it shame for not measuring up. They make clear that this is not just an emotional or psychological issue. This shame and the stress related to status competition negatively impacts health and interpersonal relationships.

Shame. Our digging has brought us to the same place that Bob Brenneman’s digging brought him. What does this mean for us as Christian communities as we seek to help the poor (and everyone else) by addressing the problem of the large inequality gap?

We can and should take concrete actions to increase income levels of the poor around us. But we simply cannot push people up high enough and fast enough. Even as we push people above the poverty line they still will face a larger gap of inequality than they would have thirty of forty years ago because in the United States in recent decades the gap has grown larger and larger; it is much larger than most think it is.

Clearly the United States, working from both the right and left, needs to address structural issues and lessen this gap. Christians should be involved. It will be a long challenging task. Yet, right now, today, Christians can take action that will have immediate impact—provide liberation from shame and buffer people from social evaluative anxieties.

- Let us proclaim liberation from the burden of shame through Jesus, using texts like Luke 7 and Luke 15. (Luke 7 magazine article, sermon; Luke 15 Bible study.)

- Shame is a relational wound and the healing must be relational. Let our churches be places of healing and protection from shame. Through this recent election season and now in the first weeks of the Trump presidency walls of division and status anxiety have increased. The need and opportunity for the church to center on Jesus, invite all to the table, and live out Galatians 3:28 are great.

- Of course, if the church is truly to be a haven and place of healing, then, in the words of former student Kathy Streeter, let us “refuse to let inequality enter the doors of the church.” We can be, as Jim Tune, another former student, writes, “an alternate community where things aren't measured by ‘performance’ or economic and social status…. In Scripture James warns against favoritism. I think the church may need to become more vigilant in guarding against this.”

- Let us, in the words of Father Greg Boyle, “stand at the margins so that standing there the margins will be erased.” Father Boyle talks as powerfully, and engagingly, as anyone I have heard on the power of kinship to dismantle shame and disgrace. Listen to this Ted Talk or this On Being interview and allow him to feed your imagination of how we can undo damage caused by the inequality gap through kinship.

- Refusing to let inequality enter the church means resisting consumerism and other forces that do so much to feed status anxiety.

Taking these actions to lessen the shaming power of the inequality gap will have multiplying impact. If the deep digging of Brenneman, Pickett, and Wilkinson is correct, these actions will have ripple effects touching many aspects of people’s lives—contributing to broader and deeper shalom.

To focus on shame does not mean to ignore economics. Many Christians who own businesses will sit in church this Sunday. They have great opportunities to address the inequality gap both through how they structure pay and how they treat workers. I look forward to writing more about this in the near future.

Let us not settle for superficial answers, and as followers of Jesus may we be in the forefront of addressing issues discovered through digging deeper.

America First?

I grew up with a sense that the United States was a force for good in the world in the face of evils like Hitler’s Germany and the USSR, and that our base motivation was seeking good—peace and freedom for all—and helping those in need. I probably absorbed that more from TV and movies, but my actual schooling did not challenge that until a U.S. History class in college. Then, living in Central America in the early 1980’s, I observed things that went against that narrative. I read about various actions in Latin America in the 20th century that clearly had more to do with protecting or promoting U.S. interests—often U.S. business interests—than protecting the peace, freedom, democracy, and well-being of various countries.

In the spring of 1983 the U.S. Ambassador to Honduras came to an event I attended. Seeing an opportunity, I went over and talked to him and said, “I have heard and read a lot that is critical of U.S. foreign policy in Central America. If you are willing I would appreciate hearing your perspective.” That was a sincere statement, but I was also looking for an opportunity to influence—to tell him some of the things I heard on the ground, to do a bit of lobbying for a different approach. To my amazement he said “yes,” and told me how to set up the appointment.

I sought advice from the UN ambassador to Honduras. He was the father of one of my students—from the Netherlands. I had spoken to him a number of times and knew he shared many of my perspectives. He told me, “Mark, recognize that the man you will be speaking with is very intelligent and very politically astute. He will be very savvy in how he talks to you and he will not be easily influenced.” He also warned me to not say anything too radical. He communicated that the ambassador will come across as a very nice man, but the embassy was involved in some pretty dark stuff.

The ambassador was John Negroponte—a career diplomat. This was not some businessman who Reagan sent to Honduras as a way of rewarding campaign donations. He had served in the embassy in Saigon during the Vietnam War, and after his time in Honduras he went on to even more significant posts including ambassador to the UN, ambassador to Iraq, and Deputy Secretary of State.

I remember very little of our conversation, but two lines remain etched in my mind. At one point I said, “If the United States really wanted to help Honduras why don’t we change the sugar tariff so that Honduras could export more sugar to the United States?” (I recognize that does not sound like a tremendously bold statement. I didn’t think so at the time either, but it seemed like something within the realm of possibility in contrast to something like United Fruit Company or Dole returning land they had gotten through bribes.) To my surprise he readily agreed with me. He said, “True, that would help Honduras.” But then he added, “Mark you must realize that the United States will not do something against its interests. It will not do something to help Honduras if it hurts the U.S.” I was amazed. Here the U. S. ambassador had just told me something that directly contradicted the narrative I had grown up with. I had only discovered this truth through a critically thinking college professor, reading out-of-the-mainstream books and talking to Central Americans critical of the United States. I thought this was some sort of buried secret. I sure had not heard it from John Wayne in movies or from my junior high social studies teachers. But the U.S. Ambassador said it to me directly. In essence he said, “America First.”

This past Friday I heard the president in his inaugural address make that statement—“America First”—repeatedly. Part of me responded positively—“Good, state it clearly. Pull back the curtain and show everyone reality. Let’s not pretend it is otherwise.” Mostly, however, I felt sad and concerned. There was no nuance in Donald Trump’s “America First.” John Negroponte had gone on to give me examples of things the U.S. was doing in Honduras that were mutually beneficial. I wish Negroponte, and his president, would have had an even greater imagination for how not always putting our “interests” first might actually be better not just for Honduras, but for us in the long run—let alone that they would have the imagination to operate with a commitment to justice for all rather just a U.S. first mentality. But at least there was some sense of the importance of global partners, and even if it was just politically motivated by who he was talking to, Ambassador Negroponte did display some sense of concern for the needs of Honduras. I do not hear that in Trump’s statements nor did I sense any concern that thinking only of ourselves might in the end have very negative consequences.

But, in spite of all the energy I put into it in the 1980’s, I am not first and foremost a political scientist. And what I find myself thinking the most about as I reflect on President Trump’s “America First” statements is how they might influence our lives, not at the international level, but at the micro level—locally and individually. I fear that hearing this sort of rhetoric will enflame and legitimize self-oriented behavior—in business and elsewhere. It feels like the exact opposite of what my father said to me so many times: “Think for yourself, but think of others.” It feels the exact opposite of the life and words of the leader we celebrated earlier in the week—Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. It is certainly the opposite of what Jesus called us to.

On the same day that Donald Trump said “America first,” I sat in Fresno County jail and read a story from Chris Hoke’s book, Wanted, to the men who came to the weekly Bible study. It was a story about an inmate reaching out in love to others—not after he got out, but while he was still in prison in solitary confinement. Then in a spirit markedly different than the president’s speech, the men shared ways they are seeking to re-orient their lives—responding to others in the pod not out of anger and fear, but love. They commented on what a difference it makes in a pod if the inmate leaders operate from a place of love rather than anger and hate. We prayed together that Jesus would strengthen us in the way of reaching out to others unselfishly in love.

A Facebook Fast: from loneliness to love

Guest blog by Nathan Hunt, co-host of discipleshipandethics.com

Just over a year ago I was lonely and discouraged.

Stranded in a new city with no friends, an unreasonable amount of work to do on my thesis, and a couple challenging months into marriage, I spun my wheels in search of connection. Though I rarely posted or interacted with the comments swirling through my feed, I sat longer and longer staring at Facebook.

In several of his works, Henri Nouwen draws a distinction between loneliness and solitude. Loneliness, he says, is a place of isolation where the compulsive self vainly searches for validation. “Who am I?” he asks in The Way of the Heart:

“I am the one who is liked, praised, admired, disliked, hated or despised. Whether I am a pianist, a businessman or a minister, what matters is how I am perceived by my world. If being busy is a good thing, then I must be busy. If having money is a sign of real freedom, then I must claim my money...The compulsion manifests itself in the lurking fear of failing and the steady urge to prevent this by gathering more of the same — more work, more money, more friends.”

“If loneliness is the outcome of connection stripped of love, then solitude is its opposite: the choice to disconnect in order to commune fully with Love.”

Or in the world of the millennial — more likes, more shares, more comments. But today’s post is lost in the algorithms of tomorrow’s trend, and affirmation without genuine connection could hardly be more fleeting.

So I found myself, for the first time really, in a sustained battle with anger. This anger was not so much the direct result of my time on social media, so much as my anger and time on social media were both reflective of the broader state of loneliness and disconnection into which my heart had fallen.

Again, Nouwen helps me make sense of the spiritual-psychology underneath all this.

"These very compulsions are at the basis of the two main enemies of the spiritual life: anger and greed. They are the inner side of a secular life, the sour fruits of our worldly dependencies. What else is anger than the impulsive response to the experience of being deprived? When my sense of self depends on what others say of me, anger is a quite natural reaction to a critical word. And when my sense of self depends on what I can acquire, greed flares up when my desires are frustrated."

If loneliness is the outcome of connection stripped of love, then solitude is its opposite: the choice to disconnect in order to commune fully with Love.

Without any real thoughtfulness or fanfare — and so, I assume, by the grace of God — I pulled the plug. For the next eight months, I was completely removed from social media and began the slow transition from loneliness to solitude.

And what a liberation it was! It may be that for twenty-first century people, enmeshed in financial and familial connections and responsibilities, simply removing ourselves from Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram accounts is the closest we can come to the desert of the monastic fathers.

Three things happened for me almost right away.

1. I discovered that a large part of my self-representation was functioning through this digitized, one-dimensional version of myself projected through my “profile.” I realized that even though I wasn't a heavy user relative to many, I still stressed about how I was viewed, the kind of "witness" I was having, how frequently I stuck up for justice, mentioned Jesus, proved that I was still outdoorsy, etc, etc. Leaving Facebook, I was freed to simply be Nathan through my body — through my words and actions in physical presence with others.

2. I was released from believing that Facebook politicizing and opinion-sharing is authentic (or essential) engagement with the struggles of human beings and this world. I focused instead on showing up physically at political demonstrations, in relationship with the marginalized, or a hurting friend's side. I gravitated toward deeper research than trending articles and embraced real conversation.

3. I found myself engaging more directly with friends and family (though I still have a lot of work to do on this one!). I sent more personal emails, made more phone calls, chatted on Skype, tried to initiate more coffees.

Facebook can be a tool for good. I’m happy to acknowledge that -- in fact, my organization is currently winning significant rights for homeless people in Denver thanks to a viral Facebook video. But for my personal life, it increasingly failed to cultivate genuine relationship, wasted my time, and raised my stress levels. Most importantly, Facebook entangled me in worldviews that increasingly conformed my mind and behavior to patterns other than Christ’s. As a tool of discipleship, it only led me further from the cruciform life I crave.

“Leaving Facebook, I was freed to simply be Nathan through my body — through my words and actions in physical presence with others.”

Eventually I came back.

My wife and I wanted to share wedding pictures. I wanted to let people know about a new website and blog I was launching (shameless plug). My job wanted me involved in communications.

But I have not come back the same.

Facebook has not held the same grasp over my identity. My compulsive checking and rechecking has almost faded completely. And my solution to loneliness and self-affirmation seems to rest much more consistently in a different Source.

But the siren song is loud. The noise of the political season fought hard to draw me back into old patterns and contrary habits.

It may be time to disengage again, if only to reconnect with this world and the source of love.

Red, Blue, Jesus?

Guest Blog by Phil Schmidt, pastor and 2012 graduate of Fresno Pacific Biblical Seminary.

Greetings from Tabor Mennonite Church in rural Kansas. In light of the political tension in our country throughout this last year, our church sought to respond in a way that would unify us as a congregation instead of causing deeper divisions. You see, Kansas is a "red state" and many in our congregation also identify more with Republican ideals of smaller government, lower taxes, etc.... But we also have many people in our congregation that identify with Democratic values of larger government for the purpose of caring more for people living on the margins of society. That being said, over these past months, several people in our congregation suggested that they did not feel good about either the Democrat or Republican candidate for president, saying that they were both bad options. In light of these political conversations taking place all around as well as the country's insistence that we fit into one of two groups (Red vs. Blue), we sought to focus on Jesus and find a third way. 

 In the weeks leading up to and surrounding the United States Presidential election, we at Tabor Mennonite Church sought to approach the political tension in our country from a centered-set perspective. We sought to center our thought, discussion, and imagination on Jesus in two specific ways:

 1) Beginning in September, we invited people in the congregation to join a Faith Formation class in which they would read and discuss Shane Claiborne and Chris Haw's book, Jesus for President: Politics for Ordinary Radicals. As the authors say in the book, "Our president is not organizing another political party...Jesus is forming a new kind of people, a different kind of party, whose peculiar politics are embodied in who we are. The church is a people called out of the world to embody a social alternative that the world cannot know on its own terms" (228). This book explores the Bible through this lens and then the last section of the book provides many practical ideas and examples of what this social alternative can look like in the real world. Throughout this Faith Formation class at Tabor, we were challenged to continue centering our minds and imagination on Jesus: how he lived, and how he calls us to live as citizens of God's kingdom each end every day. This also meant shifting our minds and imagination away from the divisive political rhetoric happening all around. The class ended by reading/praying together the "Litany of Resistance" found in Appendix 4 of the book. If you have not read Jesus for President, I encourage you to do so. 

 2) Beginning in October, we participated in a worship series entitled "Faith and Politics: Living the Sermon on the Mount." Throughout this worship series, we reflected on passages from Jesus' revolutionary Sermon on the Mount paired with other powerful passages of scripture (e.g. James 3:13-18, Romans 12:9-21, Matthew 22:15-22) that all emphasized giving our full allegiance to God's upside-down kingdom. Each Sunday, we sought to name the tension in our political system while focusing on the teachings of Jesus to be agents of peace and reconciliation, to live fruitful lives, to treasure up treasures in heaven, etc.... Each Sunday, we prayed the Lord's Prayer together following the intercessory structure of Week 1 in Take Our Moments and Our Days: An Anabaptist Prayer Book. Finally, we ended each service with a benediction in Jesus' words from Matthew 5:13-16: "You are the salt of the earth; but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything, but is thrown out and trampled under foot. You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. No one after lighting a lamp puts it under the bushel basket, but on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven." Our constant encouragement throughout this series was to be salt and light by giving our allegiance to Jesus and God's kingdom (and not to a particular political party, platform, or person). 

 On the Sunday following the presidential election, we did not celebrate a victory for the Republicans. Nor did we mourn a loss for the Democrats. Rather, we named the fear and pain experienced by many people in our country, especially those living on the margins of society. In the midst of fear and rioting, we prayed for God's peace to reign. And, we again declared our allegiance to God's kingdom and to Christ's way of reconciliation. 

Throughout these last weeks, we have sought to center our focus and imagination on Jesus and God's in-breaking kingdom. Some in the congregation resisted the direction we took in this series, suggesting that I preach a sermon in which I would encourage everyone in the congregation to vote in the upcoming election (and they made it clear to me which candidate was the correct one to vote for).

However, I did not take their advice to encourage people in my congregation to vote for the president of the United States. Rather, I preached a sermon entitled "vote with your life," in which my encouragement was for us all to vote each and every day for God's kingdom through acts of compassion, service, and love. After all, in God's kingdom, the polls are always open (it is best to vote early and often)!

On the other hand, several people in the congregation expressed appreciation for the approach we took through this Faith Formation elective and worship series. During one of our Jesus for President discussions, two young people from our congregation decided that they would spend their Thanksgiving weekend traveling to Standing Rock, North Dakota, to join Christian Peacemaker Teams in standing with the Sioux people protesting the Dakota Access Pipeline. This kind of creative action is a natural result of centering our minds, hearts, and imaginations on Jesus and God's in-breaking kingdom.

I pray that all followers of Jesus can likewise resist the divisive thinking of conservatives vs. liberals and instead pursue a third way, embracing imagination and opportunities to embody God's kingdom on earth as it is in heaven. 

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We invite readers to share in the comment section ways you have in recent days sought to lessen division and polarization through centered ways, and ways you have reached out to those on the margins living who are living with increased levels of fear.