A Pastoral Reflection on the Election

I'll be frank... I'm "feeling all the feels" today, less than 24 hours after Donald Trump became the President Elect. Just a few days ago, I wrote about civility and how the way leaders conduct themselves is as important as the substantive content/policy differences (which I will not even begin to engage with). One part of me is disturbed and concerned about the cultural/social implications of someone who unapologetically bragged about sexually assaulting women (among many other equally alarming issues) being voted into the highest office of the land. Another part of me is grateful for the reminder that no political outcome will ever satisfy our deepest longings. Still another part of me is radically humbled by the (now quantifiable) reality that millions of people across this nation feel voiceless and left behind by what others consider "progress." There is much to discuss there, but there are many who are far more qualified than I to speak into it.

As a pastor, I cannot tell you how agonizingly difficult it is to avoid (even accidentally) binding consciences, while also speaking Truth with Love in the midst of a public discourse so desperately lacking nuance, clarity or civility. How do I serve our people and equip them with the Truth of God's discomforting Love, all the while checking my own unseen assumptions or finite perspectives at the door? Where is the line between truth-telling and complicit, silent agreement? I honestly don't know how to answer these questions, and anyone that says they have a simple one is either foolish or lying.

If this is the situation in which we live, what do we do with it? Not coincidentally, the topic of this Sunday's sermon is the core value which informs all of our other core values: Gospel. "Gospel" literally means "good news." As such, I've been asking myself "where is the good news in the midst of this election season?" (Note: Don't hear what I'm not saying... I'd be asking that question no matter who was elected last night). It is always wise to ask what God may be doing, so long as our answer is held lightly. Thus, here are a few observations, lessons and opportunities for "good news" that I've been ruminating on (and holding lightly) over the last 24 hours...

1. The Word "Evangelical" Means Nothing Anymore (Especially to our Neighbors)
The church has paid (and will continue paying) the price of hypocrisy in the gap between Pulpit and Poll. For entirely too long, the Evangelical Church has taken politics seriously and Jesus lightly, rather than Jesus seriously and ourselves lightly. Too many have attached their voice, vote and hope to one political party rather than a Kingdom not of this world, resulting with a definition of "evangelical" that is on it's best day, inconsistent. If, in the same breath, we condemn the character disqualifications of one leader, yet sanctify even greater deficiencies in one who promises to represent us, why in the world should anyone take us seriously?  As a label and as a brand (which it should never have been in the first place) it is dead... thank God. Instead, the church has an opportunity to accept and criticize policies with the nuance they deserve, to actually develop a distinctly Christian politic that is as diverse, civil, collaborative and committed to the common good.

It's time for some serious soul-searching and public repentance. We neglect it at our peril, yet are freed to do so for the same reason we shouldn't have found ourselves here in the first place: we are citizens of a heavenly kingdom and our King both represents and cares for us more than any politician. 

2. The Supernatural Power of Hospitality
Last week, I had a brain-melting conversation with John Bryson (Founding Pastor of the incredible multi-ethnic church, Fellowship Memphis) where he offhandedly observed that, "A place's quality of food is proportional to the suffering their culture has endured." Why do you think that is? I asked. "Because for many people, the only safe place they experience on a regular basis is around the dinner table."  The division and polarization brought out by this election will never be solved by getting the right person in office, but by the other-serving love expressed through communities of radical hospitality. As Mark Dunkelman described in his TED Talk about why our politics are so broken, "There's a big chasm between thinking that the person who is sitting across the table from you (is wrong) and thinking that they are totally whackadoodle... If they're just wrong, maybe there's a chance of working out a deal. If they're whackadoodle, there's no chance. Can't do it." 

If we lack civility, understanding and/or compassion, it is because we are acutely disconnected from our neighbors and (especially) those who think/feel/believe/behave differently than us. I am increasingly blown away by how needed our last Vision Night was (watch the video if you have any doubts), and increasingly amazed/humbled by how much our fledgling community is already having an impact through exactly this passion.

3. The Church is God's "Plan A," and There is No "Plan B"
In the midst of seeing both discouragement and elation, both despair and celebration, I am only more certain that Jesus - through His broken-but-beloved family - is the Hope of the World. We long to be a "community where you don't have to believe/agree/conform in order to belong," and that better include our vote for president... no matter who he or she may be. I am ecstatic, not dismayed, for the opportunity to practice what we preach. I am convicted of the need to know and be known by each and every one of my neighbors, to understand what makes them tick, to love them as Jesus loves me. Can you imagine the impact of a whole community fueled by the love of our Divine Host?

4. The Gospel is at Stake... and How We Grow.
Genocide survivor, pastor and theologian Miroslav Volf says it more fully and eloquently than I ever could: "Forgiveness flounders because I exclude the enemy from the community of humans even as I exclude myself from the community of sinners." No matter what side of the vote you fall on, this is an opportunity to become more fully human, not an impediment to it. Where we exclude anyone (nevermind those who even remotely qualify as "enemy") from our community, is where we most need to be reminded that Jesus died for his enemies (Rom 5:6-11) - us. While that reminder may at first discourage, it will also be our reservoir for love and grace whether we receive it from others or not.

With this "good news" in mind, I pray we are neither puffed up nor despair over this election. Jesus does indeed still sit on His throne, but that is not a trite silver lining for shrugging shoulders and "moving on." It is the basis of hope that fuels a greater love and peace than we can ever reasonably expect from any government, any politician or any president.

Peace,
Brad

Faith & Politics: The Case for Civility

The following is not an endorsement for any political candidate, nor is it advocating for any political party or way of voting. Rather, it is both a plea and a proposal for how to recover the biblical principle and practice of civility in the midst of a culture currently (and acutely) lacking it.

You could hear the pressure of asking the last question at the 2nd Presidential Debate in the trembling of his voice. Karl Becker was no doubt aware that millions of viewers, who had endured the almost 90 minutes of schoolyard cut-downs and tit-for-tat, were already fed up with the circus. No matter their respective answers, his 26-word question was, by far, the strongest statement made that night:

“My question to both of you is, regardless of the current rhetoric, would either of you name one positive thing that you respect in one another?”

To say that this election cycle has been uncivil is an understatement. Resembling reality TV more than substantive (if conflicting) visions for our society, we’ve hit an all-new low in public rhetoric, to the degree that campaign-ending statements made in any other election cycle are now boring. Like an addict needing an ever-greater fix, the critical weaknesses of an entertainment-driven culture are on full display in candidates’ clamoring to out-shock one another. Though Clinton has significantly contributed to this rhetoric, one can barely keep up with Trump’s escalating dehumanization.

A Complicit Church

In the midst of this, major evangelical leaders have continued to support a candidate whose words and actions are utterly antithetical to the Gospel, citing his stance on key issues as the “trump card” (forgive the pun) that enables them to overlook the candidate’s glaring dishonesty and lack of character. The theological hoop-jumping we’ve seen would be impressive if it weren’t so disturbingly unbiblical. While I cannot know their hearts, a theological amnesia seems to grip many evangelical leaders who have implicitly and explicitly tied Gospel hope to a political agenda, excusing incredibly unchristian behavior for the sake of that agenda. 

The irony here is that politics are downstream of culture. Candidates win elections because they appeal to the wants and needs of voters. If voters want more jobs, candidates will promise (and hopefully follow through on) them. If voters want civility, campaigns will reflect that desire. So if 65% of polled self-identified white evangelicals intend to vote for the least civil candidate in modern U.S. history, what does this say about the spiritual state of that part of the church? 

To answer that question, it’s important to understand scripture’s powerful case for civility. 

Scripture and Civility

Civility does not mean “politically correct.” It is not rooted in whether one’s feelings are hurt, nor is it conditional to another person’s religious or moral beliefs or behavior. Jesus deeply offended contemporary religious leaders in an effort to reach their hearts. For Christians, civility is a moral obligation grounded in the intrinsic dignity present in every image-bearer (a.k.a. "human beings"). It is an honoring and respectful treatment of another because they were made “a little lower than the heavenly beings” (Ps 8:6), unique among all of God’s creation.  

To treat someone otherwise is to say, “God was wrong to create you or give you value.” This is the theological weight behind Jesus’ startlingly strong admonition in His Sermon on the Mount to not call someone a “fool” (Mt. 5:22): literally translated, “fool” means “worthless” and implies that someone is “more valuable dead than alive.” As Jesus sees it, dismissing or dehumanizing another image-bearer is akin to murdering them in their hearts.

A Way Forward

If politics are downstream of culture, civility is upstream of any/all engagement on key issues. As “middle spaces” disappear and our society becomes increasingly polarized (read The Fractured Republic for an outstanding analysis of that reality), the Church is uniquely positioned to anchor civil discourse: both politically for the good of our country and relationally in love for our neighbor. Indeed, the most powerful form of Christ-like love in a culture lacking civility, may be to offer unconditional grace, hospitality and respect to those who offer it least. If anything, this gives Christians a far more powerful opportunity to witness. We Christians are commanded to be civil, to promote peace and cultivate shalom wherever we may - whether we are a majority or minority presence in the world.

This does not mean we abdicate participation in the political process, but that we do so with the humble confidence that puts our hope in a kingdom that is “not of this earth.” It means that our vote is leveraged to incentivize a different way of engaging the same important issues and policies (whatever they are). It means that we hold candidates accountable to civil discourse, elevating the rhetoric and creating more space for all people to engage in the process. It means that we seek opportunities to sit across the table from people with whom we disagree, and affirm the truth wherever we find it. It means that, above all, we treat others with the value, dignity and respect owed to someone who bears the image of our Creator (whether they believe in Him or not).

No matter who you vote for, practice and encourage Christ-like civility.

Karl Becker’s question left both Trump and Clinton stunned (the photo above captured it beautifully). It was a bright, albeit brief reminder of civility that stood in stark contrast to the rest of the debate. What struck me most about it was not its eloquence or how much attention it drew, but by how simple and easy it was to make that significant of a statement.  Imagine the impact we can have - the difference we can make - with the Gospel fueling our civil discourse…?

Cohorts: Growing Deeper Together in Jesus

We all crave true spirituality, a connection to something of real and lasting worth in our everyday lives. We hunger for real community: people who give of themselves to one another with something in common beyond mere interests.

God invites us to find that in life with him and the community of Jesus around his table. He doesn’t ask that we get our lives together before sitting at his table -- he gives us Jesus’ life. He doesn’t demand that we sacrifice enough, do enough good, act out enough penance to make up for how we’ve kicked him to the curb -- he gives us Jesus who sacrificed himself for us.

Say you’ve accepted that invitation (and if not, we hope you will); you may still be asking yourself:

Now what?

There are a lot of answers to that question floating around the Christiansphere, many of which you’ve probably been exposed to and maybe hurt by. Here are a couple:

• The DIY answer: now that you’ve been saved by Jesus, live up to what you’ve been given. Bootstrap yourself into living in a way that measures up to God’s gift, motivated by perpetually telling yourself how unworthy of it you were and how grateful you ought to be. Having begun by grace, finish by effort, with a helping of shame.

• The ETA answer: now that you’ve been saved by Jesus, don’t worry about trying to live differently. You’ve been forgiven, and now you can look forward to heaven, ignoring the emptiness of your life, the pain you cause yourself and others by your actions, and that tension you feel between your life and what you profess.

Either answer can lead to a very frustrating life. Each has elements of truth, but they essentially encourage us to begin with the Gospel -- the good news of Jesus reconciling us to God -- but then move on from it to something else at the center of our lives.

But the good news we started with is good news for all of life. Accepting God’s invitation to join him at his table is just the beginning of a lifelong journey, one of truly trusting that we are fully forgiven and accepted by God because he loved us enough to give us Jesus and take our shame. The more we embrace who we are in Jesus, the more we’ll find ourselves transformed:

• Able to turn away from the destructive places in which we seek comfort, security, and satisfaction, and increasingly find those in God.

• Liberated from anxious self-preservation to live courageously and selflessly for God and others.

• Desiring to follow Jesus and be led by him for the sake of having more of his life in our lives.

Hopefully that appeals to your soul’s hunger like it does mine. But how does that deepening of trust in who we are in Jesus happen, practically?

God himself made a way to dwell in us through Jesus; now his Spirit in us keeps drawing us closer by deepening our embrace of the Gospel and empowering our transformation by it. He does not start it then leave the rest to us -- which is incredibly good news for us who are still “prone to wander” toward other, far less satisfying options. But we do need to cooperate with his work in us by putting ourselves in places where he's said his transforming grace tends to flow deepest.

We’re convinced that God’s grace runs deepest when followers of Jesus gather together around time-tested and Bible-encouraged practices. We help each other see what God is saying to us in the Bible and what it means for our lives. We pray together for God to help our lives reflect who we are in Jesus, and pour out gratitude when he does. And we speak truth with love into one another’s lives as we confess sins and fears to each other, encouraging each other to see who we are in Christ, trust that identity more deeply, and live in response to it.

At the Table we’re going to do that by forming groups of three to five men or women from your Community Group called Cohorts who will practice those things in an intentional and guided way. They’ll begin meeting sometime in January so that our first batch of Cohort leaders have the chance to live out these practices and receive training before starting Cohorts in their respective Community Groups. We plan to schedule Cohorts in concert with Community Group events in a way that allows for participation in both, maintains margins in our lives for hospitality to our neighbors, and is frequent enough that deep transformational community can take shape.

We hope this gave you an appetite for growing deeper together in the new life promised in Jesus. If you’re interested in finding out more about Cohorts, we'd love to answer any questions, and we’ll share even more along the way to January. You can also see our Community page for a brief description of Cohorts and how you can be a part of our community now through Community Groups and other events - we'd love to get to know you!

Video :: Vision Night (Part 3) - Cultivate Beauty

On July 17th, 2016 we tried something risky and unheard of: we hosted and facilitated a robust conversation between two people with wildly divergent ways of seeing the world. Part of the vision for The Table is to be a community where "you don't have to believe in order to belong," and our good friend Chris Eastment joined us to talk about how he (as an atheist) shares that same vision... for a church. 

Many thanks to Mike Morter of www.mnafilms.com for the outstanding videography!

With Me [A Father's Letter]

The following was published at www.thecarrycamp.com as a letter of encouragement to men struggling with infertility for Father's Day (2015). You can access the original post here, and highly encourage anyone walking through the hard road of infertility (men and women) to explore this most excellent of non-profits.

Men, this Fathers’ Day I want to give you permission to be helpless. I know you’re quite practiced in supporting your wife through the trauma of Mother’s Day, but you likely gloss over or avoid your own unmet longings on Father’s Day. Like me, you may not even feel much of that longing until you’ve exhausted every possible option (and there are many) to “fix the problem” of childlessness through solutions natural, medical and voodoo. Even so, my hunch is that we men all have at least one experience in common: helplessness.

READ: Genesis 22:1-19

Abraham is me… Abraham and Sarah were infertile and old when God first told them that they would have a son. And by “old” I don’t mean “in their mid-to-late thirties.” Abraham was pushing 100 and Sarah was 90 years old at the time (Gen 17:16-17). They had exhausted every option, including Sarah forcing her husband to sleep with the maid to conceive at least one heir for their family (Ishmael), so when God told them they would have children at that age, they laughed in His face.  That’s right, Abraham was the first person in recorded history to “ROFL.”   Isaac (whose name appropriately means “he laughs”) was Abraham and Sarah’s heir, the fulfillment of their deepest longings, their only beloved son and the living embodiment of God’s promise to bless them so abundantly that it would culminate with a nation’s-worth of descendants (Gen 12:1-3).

The only thing that could surpass their love for the God who gave them this incredible gift was the gift itself: Isaac. God’s command to sacrifice their son was atest of Abraham’s love for Him (v1).   Do you love Me more than your son whom I gave you? Or do you love the Gift more than the Giver?

Can you imagine Abraham’s utter helplessness? God follows through in His promise to satisfy Abraham’s deepest longing, and then wants to take it away!

If I hesitate to pray for children (and I often do), it is because I fear exactly this. I doubt not that God is able, but that He is willing to give us so great a gift. I fear that God is withholding children from us to test our love… and that we’re failing that test.

Abraham is NOT me… Subtle clues in Genesis 22 show that Abraham didn’t share this fear. He told his servants that they would both return (v5). He told Isaac, who was perplexed by the startling lack of a sacrificial lamb, “God will provide for himself the lamb” (v8). Abraham was both trusting that God would be faithful to His fulfilled promise in Isaac, and obedient in following God’s command to sacrifice him. He knew that God would not – could not – contradict His promises, and even tied his son to the woodpile and sharpened his knife in preparation (vv9-11), all while fully expecting God to intervene on his behalf.

God, help me! I don’t understand… What are you doing? How do I reconcile your promise with my reality?    Having faith does not preclude feeling helpless. ‘What the hell is going on?’ is quite different from ‘God, what are you doing?’ Both wrestle with feeling helpless, but the latter also expresses faith that God is able and willing to be with us in the midst of it.

Whereas before Abraham laughed in the face of God’s promise to provide, now he says “Here I am” knowing God has already and will continue to provide.   

Jesus is (the true and better) Isaac… If the greatest possible expression of Abraham’s love for God was in not withholding his only beloved son (Isaac), the greatest possible expression of God’s love for us is in not withholding His only beloved Son (Jesus).

God the Father, who enjoyed infinitely-close relationship with His Son from eternity past, experienced our same loss and unmet longing of childlessness (on an infinitely greater scale) while Jesus hung from the cross.   Rather than test our love for Him, He gave us His Son as a test of His love for us.

More than anything else I have created in this universe, you are most important to me. You are the greatest gift I could give myself. The only way I can express how especially fond I am of you is to sacrifice my own Son on your behalf.  I became Sonless so that you would become my son.

Jesus is with me… This does not mean that God will give us children if we “let go and let God” or “just have enough faith” (feel free to punch anyone who tells you that). While I don’t know if I will ever be a father, I do have a Father who knows what that’s like.  While, in the midst of my helplessness – to give my wife what she longs for and have a son or daughter of my own – I can’t fathom why God hasn’t answered my prayers, I can rule out why not: It cannot possibly be because He doesn’t love me, nor that He doesn’t hurt with me. His Son on a cross rules that out completely.

I still feel helpless. I still don’t know if God will give us children. But I do know that I can face unmet longings with well-founded hope that it’s possible, and trust that He is with me through it all.