Author Archives: hummingbird

Elizabeth Glass Turner ~ The Greatest Spiritual Need…

A college professor at my faith-based liberal arts university used to make a bold declaration.

“The greatest spiritual need on this campus,” he would state, “is sleep.”

Every semester he saw the same thing. A student would come to his office for a meeting feeling discouraged or depressed, defeated or frustrated, struggling. Whether it was addiction or relationship problems or academic anxiety, the student would spill out their woes for a few minutes until he gently interrupted.

“How much sleep did you get last night?” he would ask. Their faces surprised, students gave answers that revealed a pattern. Four hours. Three hours. Five hours. “How much the night before last? Last week? What did you do over the weekend?”

Soon, a picture would emerge. Attempting to operate on three or four hours of sleep a night, students began making poor decisions, finding their tolerance or resistance low, their emotions unpredictable. And often, they looked first to emotional or psychological or spiritual factors before taking into account one very practical influence.

So instead of telling them to pray harder or switch majors or break up with their significant other, Dr. Keith Drury would tell them to go take a nap. And then to start going to bed earlier.

Sound familiar, Church?

Are you feeling discouraged?

Depressed?

Defeated?

Frustrated?

Is everything a struggle?

Church members, small group leaders, pastors – how long did you sleep last night? The night before? Last week?

Do you wrestle with hidden addiction – alcohol, porn, eating disorders, binge shopping, prescription pills? (PS – it won’t stay hidden forever, as we’ve relearned the past few weeks.)

You may scoff. Maybe your ego won’t let you consider being or appearing less productive (why is productivity a god in our culture?). Maybe your feelings of insecurity won’t let you put away Pinterest ideas for creative cupcakes you’re taking to a bake sale hosted by a snide woman. Maybe your auto-pilot won’t let you question how healthy it is to let your kids sign up for so many extracurriculars.

Recently I half-jokingly commented to a friend that I felt holier.

Why?

My husband had traveled out of town for a while and the absence of my beloved epic squirmer resulted in the best nights’ sleep I’d had in years. I noticed I had more patience with the kids. I was making better lifestyle decisions. I was more sensitive to the pushes and pulls of the Holy Spirit. I noticed feeling more free to be intentional.

The truth is that all the dark circle correcter in the world won’t erase bad decisions, broken relationships, and vanished months and years. Besides knowing that sleep deprivation leads to more obesity, diabetes, high blood pressure, slower reaction time, less creative thinking and poor immune systems (30% of adults get six hours of sleep a night or less – and getting less than six hours of sleep a night makes you four times as likely to catch a cold), we might also ask how many church board conflicts, 15-passenger van accidents, extramarital affairs, social networking snark, and small group meltdowns are influenced by what, according to one wise college professor, is the greatest spiritual need on any given college campus.

“Jesus was inside the boat, sleeping with his head on a pillow. The followers went and woke him. They said, ‘Teacher, don’t you care about us? We are going to drown!’

Jesus stood up and gave a command to the wind and the water. He said, ‘Quiet! Be still!’ Then the wind stopped, and the lake became calm.

He said to his followers, ‘Why are you afraid? Do you still have no faith?'”

You can choose to be like an alert disciple, panicking and awake.

Or you can choose to be like Jesus, and go take a nap, ready to face the storm with calm and clarity and authority.

Or are you better than Jesus?

Steve Beard ~ Aaron Neville’s Road to Redemption

This piece is part of a series on substance abuse, faith, and different expressions of Wesleyan Methodist response. You can read the first installment about one congregation’s prayer vigil over the heroin epidemic in its community here.

 

There are two striking features you notice when Aaron Neville performs: his massive biceps and his ethereal falsetto voice. Once you come to grips with the incon­gruity of his hulking, muscular frame and his transcendent vocal gift, you take notice of the rosary bracelets, the dis­tinctive mole above his left eye, and the numerous tattoos- including the dagger on his left cheek.

A few years ago, my best friend and I were invited to the CD release party for the Neville Brothers while we were in New Orleans. The Neville family has been a Big Easy music institution for more than 50 years. The brothers (Art, Aaron, Charles, and Cyril) were in their hometown pro­moting “Walkin’ in the Shadow of Life” -a hip-hopish album of French Quarter funk, jazz, soul, rhythm and blues.

The crowd at the House of Blues was mesmerized as Aaron sang his classic ballad, “Tell It Like It Is.” Forty years ago, that song shot to the top of the charts. The heartbreak behind the hit is that although it had been selling 40,000 copies a week and was being played nationwide on the radio, Aaron Neville’s recording label was in a downward tailspin. He never saw the song’s royalties. Someone was get­ting rich off his artistry, but it sure was not Neville. While the song was topping the charts, he was busting his back as a longshoreman on the docks of New Orleans in order to feed his family.

Aaron Neville sings with a sincere earnestness. He is the least flamboyant on the stage, yet he is the most intense when he strings along his vocal offering-treating each note and harmony with the precision of a heart surgeon. He is grateful for his gift and he treasures the opportunity to share it with others. Neville earned his spot on the stage by triumphing over Jim Crow racism, drug addiction, prison time, and financial desperation.

For the warrior, the battle never seems to cease. His wife of 47 years recently died of a long bout with cancer and Neville found himself displaced from his hometown of New Orleans shortly after hurricane Katrina. In the midst of his losses, he sings to bring hope where life’s clouds have turned gray.

His tremulous voice is recognized all over the world. Neville has won three Grammys and has been nominated for numerous others. He has even become a modest pop culture icon by being periodically parodied on “Saturday Night Live,” singing “The Star Spangled Banner” at Super Bowl XL with Aretha Franklin, and making a guest appearance on “The Young and the Restless.”

Life was not always so sublime. There were the drug-induced clashes with the law-stealing cars and robbing jew­elry stores. “Deep inside, I was always nervous and scared, but the dope pushed down the feelings,” he writes in the autobiographical “The Brothers.” “Before taking off, I shot up. I went to that otherworld place.”

Neville did the crimes and served his time.

He began smoking pot in junior high and started using heroin shortly thereafter. “First time I shot smack, I was in love,” he recalls. He even got high with the late Ray Charles.”Shooting smack didn’t help my thinking any. I thought I loved the high-and I did-but my mind checked out. I just wanted to stay high.”

Neville was raised in a God-fearing home. His dad was Methodist and his mom was Catholic. He attended Saint Monica, a school run by nuns who used to get death threats from the Ku Klux Klan for teaching black kids. “They were caring women who taught me about love,” he remembers.

The lessons he learned from the nuns faded for a time, but the core message never went away. Although he was a thug-lookin’ junkie with a criminal record, Neville wanted to be something different. “If you saw into my mind.and looked into my heart, you’d see someone who just want­ed to sing. Sing with the Madonna. Sing with the angels. Sing the dreamy doo-wop, sing like Gene Autry out on the range, sing the old love songs, sing my prayer to God to find a way to get off the dope that was turning my mind to black night.”

He was desperate to be unshackled. He would get on a Greyhound from New Orleans to New York in order to try to dry out. “Just climb on that sucker and find a seat in the back and sit and sweat it out.Curl up in a fetal position, all fevered, throwing up in the bathroom, sweating and suf­fering through Indiana and Illinois, up all night, up all day, not eating, not drinking, just sweating out the dope, cold turkey..”

He went to the Big Apple to find his brother Charles, but what he found were the “shooting galleries” in Harlem where addicts were using heroin. “I got to the city clean, but the clean didn’t last. Those shooting galleries matched my mood-dark and lonely..I didn’t want to know about any­thing except floating away from a world filled with pain.”

Heroin was Neville’s undoing. For a while, his wife kicked him out of the house because of his habit. He was never sure if he was chasing the dragon or it was chasing him. All he knew was that he was a slave to the high.

“I knew I needed to make my transformation, needed to get back to the place where I was a little boy who believed in the goodness of God and power of prayer,” he remem­bers. He called out to God. He prayed with tenacity as he climbed up the steps of Saint Ann’s Shrine in New Orleans on his knees. He even called upon the intercession of St. Jude, the patron saint of lost causes.

He finally checked himself into the rehab program at DePaul Hospital in New Orleans. That was 25 years ago. In addition to the one-week lock-down, Neville stayed an additional two weeks because he didn’t feel ready to deal with the outside. He did lots of praying. The man with the physique of a fighter was battling for his own soul. “When I left, I left clean,” he testifies. “I vowed to stay off drugs. With God’s help, I’ve kept that vow.”

When he got out, he changed friends-separating himself from the users and abusers. “If anyone came to me or my brothers with dope, I’d get in their face and scare them so bad they’d never come back again,” he says. “I became a watchdog. But a lifetime of drug taking taught me no one stops till they’re ready.”

Despite the temptations to bow once again to his addiction, Neville was ready for the next chapter of his life-one that would include three Grammy Awards and numerous nominations.

In his 1997 song “To Make Me Who I Am,” Neville doesn’t sugar coat the change in his life. “I’ve met a lot of lost souls in the bowels of hell / Traveled some crooked roads, got some stories yet to tell. I’ve shot up with the junkie / Broken bread with the devil, fallen on my knees to God. Some days I was blessed, some nights I was damned / But I always tried to lend a helping hand. Once I was a deceiver, but now I am a believer.”

The revelry of the Neville Brothers gig at the House of Blues came to an astounding and respectful silence when Brother Aaron began singing an a cappella version of “Amazing Grace.” Without preaching, the testimony went forth. “I once was lost, but now I’m found. Was blind but now I see.” People wiped tears from their eyes. John Newton’s hymn is universally beloved-even in the midst of spilled beer and cigarette smoke. Although we may not all be ready to walk through the front door to the house of redemption, we still like to know that the porch light is on.

A few years ago, The New York Times reported: “In Britain, many social workers have sent Neville’s CDs to suicidal patients as spiritual medicine, hoping his voice will quell depression. In India a bridge has been named for him. Doctors at the Betty Ford Clinic, in California, sometimes use his gospel CD “Devotion” to comfort addicts in detox.”

It was Bob Dylan who was referring to Neville when he wrote: “There’s so much spirituality in his singing that it could even bring sanity back in a world of madness.”

He gets letters all the time about the healing power of his singing. “It’s the God in me touching the God in them,” he concludes.

Looking back, Neville considers himself blessed to have been arrested as well as for getting robbed of his early royalties. “When I did ‘Tell It Like It Is’ in ‘66, I didn’t get paid for it and that was God doin’ that. Man, if I got $10,000 when I was 25 years old, I’d be dead now. When I sing it today and get a standing ovation, that’s my pay. I’m still here, still singin’. That’s my pay.” Since he has tasted redemption, he refuses to lean on regret. “My life, I don’t think I’d change nothing, because everything I went through enabled me to have compassion for the next man. Whatever he’s going through out there, I’ve been through.”

 

 

This article appeared in Risen Magazine in 2007.

 

Elizabeth Glass Turner ~ The Dismembered Body of Christ

 

In light of recent events Wesleyan Accent is not posting our usual weekend sermon today, but rather will resume our normal practice next weekend.

 

I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. 

The eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you,” nor again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.” On the contrary, the members of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and those members of the body that we think less honorable we clothe with greater honor, and our less respectable members are treated with greater respect; whereas our more respectable members do not need this. If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it.

Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it.

Romans 12:1, I Corinthians 12:21-23, 26-27

Bodies matter to Christians.

Life matters to Christians: even Christians who believe in just war, who believe in the occasional necessary use of violence, should and often do consider the matter with grave sobriety, aware of the sacred worth of human beings. Christianity is not the only religion to value human life, but it is one of them.

Recently I witnessed Christians – including some clergy – marching with signs and posters and placards bearing giant words: “I can’t breathe.” “Jesus can’t breathe.” It has become apparent to most North Americans that sometimes Black deaths are more easily accepted than White deaths, that sometimes to live as a Black person means something quite different than to live as a White person.

Bodies matter to Christians: something that has bearing on theologically orthodox or traditional views of human sexuality. As sexual beings, what we do with our bodies, with whom we do it, and when, all matter.

(Incidentally, Christians, while showing tender kindness and acceptance to all persons, may also want to think about how we can sensitively encourage each other to embrace emotional and psychological healing that will allow us all to live more mentally, emotionally, and physically healthy lives, as good stewards of our health for our own sake, our family’s sake, and our faith community and our world’s sake. What does it mean to be a well-rounded, healthy person? Pastor?)

Yes, life matters to Christians, including those in the Wesleyan-Methodist tradition, even if we do have some semi-benign inconsistencies to work out (like driving with a pro-life bumper sticker on our way to engage in belt-popping gluttony at an all-you-can-eat buffet after church).

And if #Jesuscantbreathe when a Black man suffocates at the hands of White law enforcement officers, then #Jesuscantlive when physicians inject a needle through a woman’s abdomen to stop a growing baby’s heart so that it’s easier to remove in pieces from the uterus.

It is a hard subject to face, as so many subjects have been in the past few years. I have written before about the need for followers of Christ to acknowledge evil without flinching. It’s often a difficult subject for men to discuss, especially pro-women, egalitarian, pro-life men who celebrate women’s accomplishments, encourage their flourishing, and grieve the reality of abortion in our country. It is painful for me to address because I have spent time as a pastor – and simply as a woman – and I know and love and value women who, for one reason or another, have had abortions. I never want to speak or write words that demean them or obstruct their full experience of God’s grace and love.

As a follower of Jesus, I believe that the Truth will set us free: the truth of the world we live in will set us free to confront evil where we find it, and the Person who is Truth will set us free when we follow him. As a theologian, as a pastor, as a woman, as a Mama, as a friend, then, I encourage us to quiet our rants for a moment – whatever opinions they express – and listen to the voice of God.

Are we willing to present our bodies as a living sacrifice? To discover what it means to live in the freedom of holy sexuality? To fight for our cardiovascular health so we can continue to be Christ’s hands and feet to others? To step out in deep courage and faith and bear a child we may raise or may put in the care of someone else to raise when the pregnancy represented chaos or uncertainty or crisis? To swab the inside of a cheek so that we’re entered in a database of potential bone marrow donors? To experience painful shots and immunizations, exhausting jet lag, bug bites and strange tastes while serving on a medical mission trip or sweating through building projects?

I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. 

Presenting our bodies as a living sacrifice means more than walking down an aisle during an altar call – though sometimes that’s included.

The members of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable. If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honored, all rejoice together with it. Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it.

Saint Joseph and the Christ Child
Saint Joseph and the Christ Child

When a nurse checks pieces of a small body to make sure all are present and there is nothing accidentally left in the womb – when, as the Planned Parenthood website describes, the “uterus is emptied” – has something beautiful occurred? Has something merciful taken place?  No.

And the apostle Paul, when writing about spiritual gifts and the community of faith, likely didn’t picture his words describing infants in the context of modern-day abortion. But as a Christian – regardless of the legality or medical ethics of the situation – when I hear the loss of life of the innocent young described in ways that emphasize how to take life without destroying certain organs – when I hear words of crushing and dismemberment, my mind can’t help but go to the verses of scripture that celebrate all the different members of the Body of Christ. How precious was the earthly, physical arms and legs and head and torso of Jesus, as a hiccuping baby, as a wobbly toddler, as an awkward youth, as a growing man. How telling were the moments when the resurrected Jesus ate fish, dared Thomas to feel his wounds, tore bread with stunned disciples hungry after a walk.

Flesh matters: the Word became Flesh. The Word redeemed flesh. And we celebrate the Word-Become-Flesh and the redemption of our bodies, not the mutilation or dismemberment of them. There is no freedom, no liberation, in attempting to change our gender or rid our body of a baby: those are pathways of loss. Not irredeemable, but empty, ultimately unfulfilling in themselves.

How can we live and celebrate the reality that Jesus took on flesh to redeem it and set it motion the ultimate redemption of all Creation? Where in your thoughts, your attitudes, your actions, have you undervalued life? The body? This created existence?

How can you live as a testimony to the redemption of flesh and blood? What is keeping you from living a full, healthy life?

Are there areas in which you live inconsistently with your value of life?

If Jesus physically died and was physically resurrected, how does that challenge your notions of your own body and its value?

When you take communion, what does the ritual communicate to you about the promise of the redemption and resurrection of all Creation?

What should be our response to a culture of death? This is not a challenge to post Bible verses on your Facebook page. No – what should our community of faith do to confront our culture of death with a whole, healthy, beautiful, fulfilled picture of life? Practically speaking, how might congregations engage in activities that value life and show its beauty?

Let’s live lives that ardently pursue true happiness, beauty, and fulfillment. Let’s live out our calling to show in a million ways that life is beautiful.

 

For another article by this author on this topic, visit http://goodnewsmag.org/2012/11/call-the-midwife/. 

 

 

Elizabeth Glass Turner ~ The Prevailing Sin of Evangelicals

In the midst of an extraordinary amount of stone-throwing and name-calling from across the political and theological spectrum, the Church in North America has shuddered and shaken from its timbered ceiling (or its artfully exposed industrial lighting) to its hallowed stone foundation (or tiled coffee house floor).

(Astute readers perhaps will have noticed the use of the capitalized word “church” but not the use of the phrase “Body of Christ.”)

The various branches of the organization of Christian faith in North America are flailing in a storm that some see as a clearing, cleansing front needed to wash away theological detritus while others see a hurricane destined to imperil and destroy life as we know it.

The shake-up, for better or worse, has caused a great deal of soul-searching and reflection – though perhaps not as much as is needed, one might think after wearily skimming the morning Facebook news feed. What does it mean to be a Christian? What does it mean to be human? How has the way in which the Church relates to prevailing culture changed in the past 30 years? What leaders to we need to pay attention to right now? Who has the answers? Will my congregation die if we don’t change what we believe?

How did we get here?

To the dismay of many, a startling realization is beginning to dawn: we thought we were strong, faithful, and following where God led. But what if we weren’t?

I know that many of my progressive friends will read the above question in a different light. “You thought you were strong, faithful, and following where God led, but you weren’t, because you refused to be fully inclusive. Now you’re realizing that and you’re reevaluating what you believe and who you are. That’s a good thing, because now you can change.”

That angle is not the one predominantly preoccupying the evangelical consciousness right now, however.

(I use “evangelical” for lack of a better word to describe theologically orthodox Christians who place a high value on the understanding of Scripture as the inspired Word of God and, out of that understanding, hold a humble but defined traditional theology of marriage and human sexuality. Personally, I think “evangelical” is largely a useless term because of the number of meanings that can be painted onto it.)

How did we get here? We thought we were strong, faithful, and following where God led. But what if we weren’t? These thoughts haunt laypeople and clergy alike who have spent years serving in the church and who now survey their surroundings in shocked disbelief. The sweeping changes in society over an extremely short time in the scope of historical context – a few decades, half a century at most – have left a reverberating tremor of shellshock.

No matter how many “statements” are issued from denominational spokespersons, individual clergy, and faith-based organizations, there seems to have been little direction, discernment or comfort gleaned from what many feel are either empty platitudes or hopeless, feeble claims of continued perseverance in the practice of the faith. This is understandable in part: there’s a great deal in flux in North American culture, in key denominations and in many pews. But behind a great deal of conversation lurk the questions above. We thought we were strong, faithful, and following where God led. But what if we weren’t?

It is time for the Church in North America to repent – but of what?

We must ask ourselves, “what made us think we were strong, faithful, and following where God led?” Were we confident we were being faithful because we could afford a new building? Were we assured we were strong because attendance grew and we implemented the leadership trends du jour? Were we assured we were following where God led because we practiced relevance and offered a traditional and contemporary worship service?

None of these are the fruits of the Spirit.

We should’ve recognized the symptoms – pastoral scandals brushed over and shrugged off, millions of budgetary dollars spent on state-of-the-art buildings while the missions and outreach dollars stayed steady or shrank, congregations of predominantly one race or socioeconomic status staying of predominantly one race or socioeconomic status. None of this characterizes the Spirit-filled Body of Christ. 

It did, however, characterize the Church.

What if the prevailing sin of evangelicals in the past 30 years was the same as the prevailing sin of progressives today – the cult of the individual? Protestants have this struggle wrapped tightly throughout our Reformer DNA. It was extraordinary, a gift of grace that individual people could read Scripture in their own language. It was extraordinary, the idea that the individual can reach out in response to God on her or his own because of the priesthood of all believers. It was extraordinary.  It also had a deadly-sharp edge, as all Truth does – for individualism, run rampant, becomes as much of an idol as a statue of a saint or a gilded icon does to uneducated peasants.

If there is a prevailing sin of evangelicalism, might it be the cult of the individual? Take, for instance, the far-right fundamentalist trope – “God says it, I believe it, that settles it” – and place it alongside what could easily be the far-left progressive credo – “I feel it, I believe it, that settles it.” Both hinge on the individual. And while we have inherited a robust faith that celebrates the one – the one up in the tree, the one lost or left behind, the one who came back, thankful – it is not a faith that relies on the individual. Far from it.

The Christian faith springs from belief in the Trinity, first and foremost – Father, Son, Holy Spirit (not suggesting that God is gendered, but that God is persons, that God is relationship – that God is love…). Unlike our Muslim and Jewish friends, we do not claim God is one without also claiming God is three. And of the Threeness of God, we believe that the Second Person of the Trinity, Jesus Christ, Word-Made-Flesh, Emmanuel-God-With-Us, has called us to be his Body on earth empowered by the Third Person of the Trinity, the Holy Spirit.

There is no such thing as a solitary God in Christianity, this Three-In-One “I AM,” and there is no such thing as a solitary Christian.

Yet for decades, evangelicalism swooned into a vast approach not unlike marketing rather than evangelism – and make no mistake, the two are different. For one thing, marketing targets consumers, not believers. And when you market, you see demographics made up of individuals. The North American Church began attempting to market the faith to what it perceived as “swing voters” – every young new emerging generation, seen as the trendsetters that predict the future.

“Now hold on a just minute,” pastors counter, having spent thousands on demographic research, relocation trend watches and seminars on relevance. But I counter that a small but important tell-tale sign that North American evangelicalism got too self-centered is the fascinating migration of Protestants to Roman Catholicism and Eastern Orthodoxy. I have begun to lose count of the number of friends from college and seminary – not counting friends of friends – who now have icons in their living rooms, rosaries next to their beds, and a surprising but joyful number of children springing up.

Fed up with the elevation of the individual, this minor but very significant trend reveals people from their 20’s to their 50’s deliberately seeking out traditions that emphasize a great many practices and doctrines before the individual comes into play. Eastern Orthodox followers spend seasons fasting together, feasting together, venerating together. Roman Catholics turn to a higher authority than the individual in the pew, looking to time-worn dogma, to a faith community of extraordinary countercultural fellowship. Both traditions practice exclusivity, interestingly enough, something that occasionally offends unwitting Protestants expecting to “take communion” like everyone else. Yes, both Roman Catholicism and Eastern Orthodoxy have strong traditions of mysticism – something experienced by the individual. In the main, however, you do not have the tail wagging the dog.

Before we repent, then, for what “those people” are doing (“thank you, Lord, that I am not like that person over there…”), fearing that they will bring about the Apocalypse during our lifetime or our children or grandchildren’s lifetimes, Church, we must repent for being an organization of Christian faith but not the Body of Christ. We need to face that we have made an idol out of self, a god of the individual. It is not about us. It is about Jesus Christ – and him crucified…

We have shaped the Church in our own image, so that it is a safe, suburban place to be, with mall lotion in the ladies’ room and shrubbery trimmed to perfection. We have shaped the Church in our own image, so that we worship only in ways that will attract people we want to be seen with. We have shaped the Church in our own image, so that “benign” segregation is practiced while we allow cultural differences to trump unity in Christ. We have shaped the Church in our own image, so that it is something that will appeal to our grandkids or our yoga friends or our IT colleagues, though hopefully not the foreclosed-upon, the elderly poor, or the bi-racial kids of a single woman missing several teeth driving a broken-down car.

If we attempt to address theological challenges with answers that rely on the individual, we return immediately to where we started.

We thought we were strong, faithful, and following where God led. But what if we weren’t?

“It’s not as I would have it,” said Rev. Richard Coles, priest in the Church of England, gay, living celibately with his civil partner, on the doctrine of the Church of England. “But then – it’s not about me…”

What a splash of cold water in the face. It’s not about me. When’s the last time you heard an activist, commentator, pastor or church member say that? (And that’s what was so stunning about the shooting victims’ families confronting Dylann Roof, after all: “I forgive you” is a profound wail of pain combined with the acknowledgement that it’s not about me. “Accept Jesus Christ.”)

I’m not sure what to think about this community worship our pastor set up with a neighboring Black church. I want the other church to know I like them, but I don’t know how they perceive me and I don’t know the songs they seem to love.

It’s not about me.

Is my ministry making any difference? Are my family’s sacrifices worth it? If we build a new $7.5 million worship center, that will be something I can look to for affirmation that something I’ve done is of value, that something will outlast me.

It’s not about me.

I don’t want my friends to think I’m ignorant, predictable or gullible because of my traditional theology of human sexuality.

It’s not about me.

I don’t want my friends to think I’m ignorant, predictable or gullible because I feel called to volunteer and serve with AIDS ministries.

It’s not about me.

If there is anything that God is calling us to face, it might just be the reality that there has been a stark difference between the organized Church and the living, Spirit-filled Body of Christ.

I am crucified with Christ, therefore I no longer live.

If there is anything that God is calling us to celebrate, it is that we are not alone – we are not individuals squabbling over foyer paint color – we are called to live and breathe the fellowship of the saints, the suffering of our Lord, the anointing of the Holy Spirit and the community-generating creative motion of the Father.

We confess we have not loved you with our whole hearts. We are truly sorry and we humbly repent.

Kevin Murriel ~ A Conversation about “Breaking the Color Barrier”

Recently Wesleyan Accent had the pleasure of chatting with Dr. Kevin Murriel about his new – and timely – book, “Breaking the Color Barrier: A Vision for Church Growth through Racial Reconciliation.”

*What motivated and inspired this book, now? 

During my doctoral studies at Duke University, I wanted to research something that intersected the church and society–something that as a finished product would make a difference. I chose to research and write on racial reconciliation in American Christian life.  My mentor, Bishop Woodie W. White, during my time at Candler School of Theology spoke about the Mississippi Church Visit Campaign of 1964 during Freedom Summer. This initiative, led by Bishop White’s roommate at Boston University School of Theology, Rev. Edwin King, sought to desegregate white churches in Jackson, Mississippi. I am a native of Mississippi. So, I decided to use the methods Ed King and other leaders deployed as a model for racial reconciliation in the 21st century.

Also, this topic seemed fitting given the media coverage that the killings of unarmed black men and women in America has received since the Trayvon Martin case in 2012. America is in volatile condition regarding race relations and now, in 2015, the nation seems more willing (or more forced) to wrestle with race and its social, economic, and religious implications in our democratic society.

*I think the phrase “racial reconciliation” can be parsed out many ways depending on who is hearing it. What does it look like to you? (There’s a big difference to me, for instance, between merely coexisting vs sharing life together.)

Dr. Benjamin E. Mays, former President of Morehouse College and mentor to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., said that 11:00am on Sunday morning is the most segregated hour of the week for Americans. Yet, we work together, eat at the same restaurants, and attend recitals and plays together. This, I believe, describes what you mean by coexisting. In other words, as long as we can be around each other without impacting our individual quality of life then we are content. That, however, is not how I view racial reconciliation. That’s desegregation.

Racial reconciliation as I describe in the book is about intentional community with an end goal in mind. That goal can be different depending on what one is seeking to accomplish. I argue that for Christians, our end goal should be more multicultural congregations due to the changing demographics of our country. In the next 25 years, America will look drastically different and our communities will be more diverse. Therefore, the Church must begin to mirror the diversity of our communities or suffer in the reality of decline. To move towards this goal, we must name what really keeps us divided–race.

We cannot argue that theological differences overwhelmingly divide us because Blacks disagree with Blacks on certain theological issues just like Whites, Latinos, and Asians do. The truth is that we enjoy and feel more comfortable worshiping with people who look like us. To break this trend for greater Kingdom growth requires engaging in difficult conversations about the racially divisive history that is the thesis of the American narrative and then we must work towards forgiving what has been. There then must be an intentional effort, primarily on behalf of Blacks and Whites, to move beyond the past and reconcile so that the institutional church in America can have a future.

*I love that you’ve approached this in synthesis with the desire for church growth. What has your research revealed about the relationship between racial reconciliation and church growth? On a more personal, intuitive level, what is your sense of church health and vitality when people come together to worship and “do life” together?

Based on my research, the churches that are growing and thriving are those who are intentional in their message, mission, and function about welcoming all people (and actually doing it). I visited a thriving church near Atlanta, Georgia a few weeks ago and what I witnessed shocked me and gave me hope at the same time. It was a truly multi-cultural/racial congregation. And they were thriving. Their pastoral team was multi-cultural/racial, their greeters, ushers, choir and band.  The congregational makeup was about 55% White, 40% Black, and 5% Hispanic. Everyone was friendly and you could feel the unity in the atmosphere. It was the closest I’ve seen to how I believe heaven will be.

I contend that when people come together without anger and with love and “life together” as the end goal, churches will be healthier and people will find that they have more in common. But again, this must be intentional. Society has changed from the 1960’s. There are more interracial dating and married couples than ever and our children are being educated in schools that are more diverse. Most people’s social media outlets are multi-cultural/racial. We are surrounded by diversity and have accepted it in our normal daily activity. Now is the time to do make it a reality in our churches.

*Sometimes I mourn that North American life seems to be so privatized rather than communal and shared, even in this age of social networking: we “network” from our private residences or vehicles. What does genuine, Spirit-filled community look like to you?

In short, genuine, Spirit-filled community, I believe, is the ability to love and accept everyone for the content of their character rather than the color of their skin.

*Have you served in primarily single race-predominate congregations? What are practical steps an average Wesleyan-Methodist tradition church could take to break the color barrier?

I have served in three predominately white congregations and three predominately Black congregations and each has the same issue–we want to worship with whom we feel comfortable and each has a way of stigmatizing the other. The interesting thing about each of the churches I’ve served is that they were each in communities that in the past five years became more diverse. From my experience in these contexts and my research, some practical steps for local churches and conferences to break the color barrier are:

1. The congregation must decide missionally who it wants to be. In other words, they must decide whether they want to be a church that welcomes people of all races or remain a homogenized church community.

2. Pastors of race-predominate congregations should host intentional ministry sessions to consider ways of being in ministry together in their local community. This is in line with our Wesleyan theology of connectionalism.

3. Conferences should mandate that clergy have diversity training and push programs that equip clergy and laity to have conversations about race.

4. Appointments in our Methodist system should truly be made without regard to race. And when pastor is appointed to a congregation where they are the minority, the congregation should go through a time of preparation to help with the transition to minimize potential cultural and racial insensitivity.

These are starting points. But the desire to be with people in intentional community is the foundation to breaking the color barrier.

*What do you wish White North American Christians better comprehended about being a Black North American Christian? Do you think there are any misconceptions about White Christians within the Black Christian community? 

I can only speak from my experience as a Black North American Christian and though there are many things I wish White North American Christians comprehended about being a Black North American Christian, the primary thing regarding racial reconciliation is that it will take White North American Christians leading in a significant way for reconciliation to occur. I think there are misconceptions from both groups. But with racial reconciliation, misconceptions must be corrected through honest dialogue. We often don’t worship together because we do not fully understand each other and how can we make a judgment on someone or a group that we do not know personally? All White people are not racist and all Black people are not lazy, unintelligible thugs. Unfortunately, society, in many ways, paints these distorted group pictures. In fact, Rev. Edwin King, the focus character of my book, is a White pastor leading and helping to organize black students to desegregate white churches. It is a beautiful story of how together we can bring about change and be the church that God envisions–a diverse Kingdom on earth as it is in heaven.

*Fill in this sentence: “we will have broken the color barrier in North American congregations when: “All of God’s people celebrate diversity and join hands together in unity.”

Featured image courtesy Aaron Blanco Tejedor on Unsplash

Elizabeth Glass Turner ~ Called to be a Nimble Follower

What does it take to be a nimble follower of Jesus Christ?

Describing yourself as “nimble” (“quick,” “light,” “quick to comprehend”) may not be a trendy way to phrase a quality – I doubt I’ll see it on any t-shirts soon, unless it becomes a merchandised quote from a quirky show – but followers of Jesus Christ are called to be nimble, even if you can only picture “nimble” in the context of a candlestick and a bloke named Jack.

How can we be quick, light followers of Jesus who are quick to comprehend?

Nimble followers of Jesus first have situational awareness. Whether you’re an athlete (unlike the time I got whacked in the side of the face with a volleyball because I wasn’t paying attention) or an air force pilot, both of whom practice situational awareness regularly, you know the importance of keeping the big picture in mind. What is happening around you? Where are the people around you? At what part of a process are you now executing a maneuver? This global perspective is essential. It requires seeing beyond your own borders, looking beyond your own life, and tuning in to the activity around you.

Consider New Testament examples: Jesus spotting Zacchaeus in the tree; Jesus “having” to go through Samaria; even Jesus methodically braiding a whip to cleanse the temple. Jesus’ situational awareness went beyond these examples though: upon seeing a paralyzed man, he first forgives his sins. Upon responding to one plea for healing, he first feels power go out of him in a crowd. Though his disciples frequently got frustrated with his seeming lack of situational awareness – “everyone’s been looking for you,” “you’ve talked so long the people are hungry – what will we feed them?” and the favorite – “how can you be asleep? we’re all going to drown!” – Jesus had Spirit-filled situational awareness to the things were essential for him to carry out his earthly ministry.

Nimble followers of Jesus also have singlemindedness, that quality of focus that edges right up to preoccupation or obsession without going over – though, to others, it may seem we have. “Beloved, I do not consider that I have made it my own; but this one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 3:13-14). To be singleminded means to have unity of purpose, thought, direction, focus, like the intent face of a crouched tennis player, putting pro golfer or springing basketball player. Singleminded people cut out otherwise harmless or good things in order to dwell on what they are doing and why they are doing it. The adolescent Jesus displayed this to Joseph and Mary’s chagrin when he got caught up in the temple and was surprised to see them worried.

Astronaut Chris Hadfield describes this quality at length in his fascinating book, “An Astronaut’s Guide to Life on Earth: What Going to Space Taught Me about Ingenuity, Determination, and Being Prepared for Anything.”  Growing up in Canada, Hadfield decided he wanted to be an astronaut – even though at the time Canada didn’t have a space program. Every decision he made in his career positioned him to be well-placed in case the opportunity ever arose. It did. In the meantime, his singlemindedness had carried him through years before his goal was reached.

Nimble followers of Jesus are all in. They are willing to put skin in the game, to make sacrifices easily and quickly. From someone who played “all in,” consider the wise words of  NBA star (and famous Hoosier) Larry Bird: “It makes me sick when I see a guy just stare at a loose ball and watch it go out of bounds.” Bird was describing the kind of player who was making a great deal of money but who wasn’t all in – and it made him sick.

Simon Peter wanted to be all in, thought he was all in, and it nearly destroyed him to realize that he wasn’t. Only by the power of the Holy Spirit was he able to be all in. And when he was all in, he no longer counted the cost. He followed the pattern Christ set in Gethsemene – “yet not my will, but thine be done.”

Quick, light, comprehending followers of Jesus maintain situational awareness, singlemindedness, and the wholehearted commitment of being all in.

So what keeps us from being nimble followers of Jesus Christ? What might prevent us from being quick and light as we follow Jesus? What might slow us down, burden us, wear us away, or cloud our comprehension?

When followers of Jesus don’t maintain situational awareness, it is often because we are zoomed in to our immediate circumstances or context to an extent that becomes nearsighted. I might have eyes for my own world, my own schedule, my own demands – and therefore, thinking about my grocery list, as it were, I back into a truck, only alerted to the presence of another vehicle when grinding metal crunches the air and halts my thoughts. A crumpled bumper is one thing, but what about when you lose situational awareness in your individual spiritual life or in the community life of your fellow believers? Nearsighted followers of Jesus run up against screeching metal and are startled out of their immediate focus. This has happened recently as North American Christians have reacquainted themselves with the ongoing reality of racism in the United States.

When followers of Jesus don’t maintain singlemindedness, we fall prey to distractions that take our eyes off the ball. Our attention wavers, or we get “choked by the cares of this world,” which we deem a higher priority than our singular bent towards Christ, or we slowly allow split loves, believing we can maintain more than one love, living with a divided heart. It is such an insidious way to die.

Because losing singlemindedness is the way of death, as Colonel Hadfield describes in his section on Pre-Launch in his chapter, “What’s the Next Thing That Could Kill Me?” Astronauts have to practice worst-case scenario simulations over and over again in multiple versions. What will we do if this fails? What will we do if this appears to fail but isn’t actually failing? And so on. And no astronaut can afford to maneuver the tricky re-entry phase of the mission while wondering if her or his family remembered to pay the water bill on time.

When followers of Jesus don’t maintain the commitment to be “all in,”  we are usually giving in to a sneaky set of emotions: fear, or reserve, or self-preservation. Whatever we’re giving in to, it isn’t love – that effective excuse that silences others. “I love my kids too much to enter ministry,” and so on. Keeping something back usually means fear – fear of pain, fear of being made fun of (so many grown-up’s still carry that fear), fear of being let down, fear of missing opportunity for advancement – because sometimes self-preservation looks a lot like ambition. And we stand, and stare at the loose ball, and watch it go out of bounds…

If you want to be a quick. light follower of Jesus who comprehends quickly – in other words, nimble – think about a situation where you’re not feeling particularly nimble right now. Is there a situation about which you feel clouded, confused, divided, fearful, reserved, or nearsighted?

Now, put a little situational awareness into play: what are the facts? What are some primary dynamics? What outcomes might arise from the circumstances? (“What’s the next thing that could kill me?”)

Next, ask yourself: “Given my history, my personality, my current setting, what things tend to derail singlemindedness in my life? Given our history, our collective personality, our current setting, what things tend to derail singlemindedness in my tradition or denomination?”

And then, consider this: “What truths or misconceptions could keep me from being ‘all in’? What truths or misconceptions could keep my tradition or denomination from being ‘all in’?”

Can you be nimble for Christ? Can you, as an individual, be ready, quick, light on your feet? Is your tradition well-poised to be ready, quick, light on its feet, in service to Christ? 

Dear ones, we are not playing the heartbreaking game that we narrowly lost that keeps us up at night; we’re not playing the game we had hoped to play, dreamed of playing when we envisioned a glorious tournament; we are playing this field, as it is, this moment. Today is the setting in which we are called to be nimble: behold, now is the favorable time; behold, now is the day of our salvation.

As Saul the persecutor-turned-Paul-the-Apostle wrote in II Corinthians 6:

Working together with him, then, we appeal to you not to receive the grace of God in vain.For he says,

“In a favorable time I listened to you,
    and in a day of salvation I have helped you.”

Behold, now is the favorable time; behold, now is the day of salvation. We put no obstacle in anyone’s way, so that no fault may be found with our ministry, but as servants of God we commend ourselves in every way: by great endurance, in afflictions, hardships, calamities, beatings, imprisonments,riots, labors, sleepless nights, hunger; by purity, knowledge, patience, kindness, the Holy Spirit, genuine love;  by truthful speech, and the power of God; with the weapons of righteousness for the right hand and for the left; through honor and dishonor, through slander and praise. We are treated as impostors, and yet are true;  as unknown, and yet well known; as dying, and behold, we live; as punished, and yet not killed;  as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, yet possessing everything.

We must be nimble so that we do not receive the grace of God in vain.

Aware to the situation in which we find ourselves – truthful and honest about what the console tells us as we blast off.

Singleminded in our pursuit of Jesus Christ and him alone.

All-in, dedicated, given over to that which we have given ourselves.

We must be nimble so that we do not receive the grace of God in vain.

Are we free to follow Christ quickly, lightly, quickly comprehending his ways? That is a question worth losing sleep over.

A brief note: equipping yourself to be a nimble follower of Jesus is a distinct trail leading off from the path along which we build monuments. Our experiences of Christ transcend the context in which we met him, learned about him and grew more like him. Anything other than quick, ready following of Jesus slides rapidly toward the slippery desire for tabernacles on a mountaintop, so beware.

And let us, as part of the Body of Christ, confess our sins.

Lord, as your followers we have often been nearsighted and self-absorbed, limiting our awareness of our situation; we have traded singlemindedness for trying to please many and gain the love of all; we have reserved part of ourselves from you, keeping back a portion and resisting your call to be “all in.” Because of this, we confess that we have confused our vision, weighed ourselves down, divided our heart, and trusted in ourselves to know best and protect ourselves fully. For this, we are truly sorry and we humbly repent. Forgive us and light in us the glow of your Holy Spirit. Help us to think of things other than ourselves; to be singleminded in love, thought, purpose and intent; and to release fear, self-preservation and ambition to you. Show us true liberty, plant in us a vision of what the church can be when we are equipped as a body to be nimble followers of you, light and quick to hear your calling. In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit – Amen.

Earlier I stated:

“when followers of Jesus don’t maintain the commitment to be ‘all in,’  we are usually giving in to a sneaky set of emotions: fear, or reserve, or self-preservation. Whatever we’re giving in to, it isn’t love – that effective excuse that silences others. ‘I love my kids too much to enter ministry,’ and so on. Keeping something back usually means fear – fear of pain, fear of being made fun of (so many grown-up’s still carry that fear), fear of being let down, fear of missing opportunity for advancement – because sometimes self-preservation looks a lot like ambition. And we stand, and stare at the loose ball, and watch it go out of bounds…”

What if I shifted a few words and rephrased a few observations:

“Whatever we’re giving in to, it isn’t love – that effective excuse that silences others. ‘I love my family too much to risk my pension, no matter what doctrinal changes occur in my faith tradition. I love my friends too much to practice the faith I genuinely believe Jesus is calling me to. I love my denomination too much to wonder what God may actually be calling me to do,’ and so on. Keeping something back usually means fear – fear of pain, fear of being made fun of, fear of being let down, fear of missing opportunity for advancement…”

What might a fellowship of believers look like that was free to follow the swift promptings of the Holy Spirit?

Are we letting the ball go out of bounds? Are you?

Elizabeth Glass Turner ~ Transparency: True Clear

Happy are those whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered.

Happy are those to whom the LORD imputes no iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no deceit.

While I kept silence, my body wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night your hand was heavy upon me; my strength was dried up as by the heat of summer.

Then I acknowledged my sin to you, and I did not hide my iniquity; I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the LORD,” and you forgave the guilt of my sin.

Therefore let all who are faithful offer prayer to you; at a time of distress, the rush of mighty waters shall not reach them. You are a hiding place for me; you preserve me from trouble; you surround me with glad cries of deliverance.

I will instruct you and teach you the way you should go; I will counsel you with my eye upon you. Do not be like a horse or a mule, without understanding, whose temper must be curbed with bit and bridle, else it will not stay near you. Many are the torments of the wicked, but steadfast love surrounds those who trust in the LORD. Be glad in the LORD and rejoice, O righteous, and shout for joy, all you upright in heart. – Psalm 32

A little over a year ago, one of the most famous people in the world was interviewed a few hours from here at Austin’s SXSW festival. He was only able to be present on a screen.

Edward Snowden lives in Russia. Just a couple of years ago, he was an anonymous computer geek working for the National Security Agency. There are very different opinions on this young man in our nation: was he a traitor or a whistleblower? Did he put operations at risk or did he uncover harmful practices?

Either way, his revelations started a national conversation on transparency, a conversation driven by several basic questions:

-what is known?

            -is what is known accurate – real, representative of reality?

            -is accountability possible when things are hidden or secret?

These questions, so loaded and complex in a technologically interwoven world, are some of the most important questions any believer can ask themselves.

Another word for this is simply confession.

Cover-up is a basic, ancient human instinct. “Happy are those whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered.” In Genesis we read of Adam and Eve’s attempt to hide and cover themselves. A little later we come to this: “Now Cain said to his brother Abel, ‘Let’s go out to the field.’ While they were in the field, Cain attacked his brother Abel and killed him. Then the Lord said to Cain, ‘Where is your brother Abel?’ ‘I don’t know,’ he replied. ‘Am I my brother’s keeper?’ The Lord said, ‘What have you done? Listen! Your brother’s blood cries out to me from the ground.'”

It is human instinct to hide not just the things we’ve done, but the areas where we fall short, as we read in the parable of the talents. Did we waste resource or fail to celebrate gifts out of inertia or fear, then attempt to bury this reality, “safe” and out of sight?

What is known, what is real, what is accurate?

Confession is good for the soul. After all, “while I kept silence, my body wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night your hand was heavy upon me; my strength was dried up as by the heat of summer.” Carrying a burden alone – and knowledge of wrongdoing is heavy; guilt is heavy; regret is heavy – carrying a burden alone will affect your physical health, your mental health, your emotional health, your spiritual health. It will sap your joy and drain your energy.

“Then I acknowledged my sin to you, and I did not hide what I did wrong; I said, ‘I will confess my transgressions to the LORD,’ and you forgave the guilt of my sin.” Children of attentive parents will remember the odd relief that comes with spilling the beans on the truth of a situation – even when it seems your parent mysteriously already suspects the truth. There is a clearing of the air, a load lifted, even if unpleasant consequences are coming your way.

In the end, the only real safety comes in disclosure. “Therefore let all who are faithful offer prayer to you; at a time of distress, the rush of mighty waters shall not reach them. You are a hiding place for me; you preserve me from trouble; you surround me with glad cries of deliverance.” When nothing stands between our heart and God’s heart, God can become our hiding place rather than the One from whom we hide. Instead of being a small child hiding behind a couch after blatant wrongdoing, we are the child running to a parent, hiding our faces in their clothes, seeking refuge from fear or pain or danger or confusion.

The guy who started the Methodist movement (along with his brother and a few friends), John Wesley, instructed early members of the Methodist movement to meet regularly in small groups.

Listen to the startling questions that our early Methodist sisters and brother asked each other:

1. Am I consciously or unconsciously creating the impression that I am better than I really am? In other words, am I a hypocrite?

2. Am I honest in all my acts and words, or do I exaggerate?

3. Do I confidentially pass on to others what has been said to me in confidence?

4. Can I be trusted?

5. Am I a slave to dress, friends, work or habits? – (that is, addictions)

6. Am I self-conscious, self-pitying, or self-justifying?

7. Did the Bible live in me today?

8. Do I give the Bible time to speak to me every day?

9. Am I enjoying prayer?

10. When did I last speak to someone else of my faith?

11. Do I pray about the money I spend?

12. Do I get to bed on time and get up on time?

13. Do I disobey God in anything?

14. Do I insist upon doing something about which my conscience is uneasy?

15. Am I defeated in any part of my life?

16. Am I jealous, impure, critical, irritable, touchy or distrustful?

17. How do I spend my spare time?

18. Am I proud?

19. Do I thank God that I am not as other people, especially as the Pharisees who despised the publican?

20. Is there anyone whom I fear, dislike, disown, criticize, hold a resentment toward or disregard? If so, what am I doing about it?

21. Do I grumble or complain constantly?

22. Is Christ real to me?

Whoa. Many North Americans today would respond that those answers are none of your business; we are private individuals with the freedom to do what we like.

And yet – the purpose of these questions isn’t to make you feel defeated about your life.

The purpose of these questions is to live the reality that every part of our life is open to God and to others – transparency.

“Happy are those in whose spirit there is no deceit…”

Kevin Murriel ~ Honoring the Martyrs of Emanuel A.M.E.

This post is the second installment of Race: The Oldest New Issue Confronting American Christian Life. The first installment can be found by clicking here.

I am angry. I am sorrowful. I am mourning.

In case some were wondering if discussing issues around race was important, the answer for Americans should now be clear. Nine people are dead. Racism in America is alive and active and many are wandering what we should do about it.

Dylann Roof entered Emanuel A.M.E. Church in Charleston, South Carolina on Wednesday evening and killed those attending a Bible study because he wanted to “start a race war.” We were in the midst of our annual United Methodist conference (North Georgia) meeting when the coverage of the shooting began. The mood shifted immediately. Our Bishop expressed somber and convicting words and our annual conference responded by taking an offering to send to the families of victims. Others gave speeches from the floor to call the church to action and throughout the conference people of every race present shed tears.

But America has been here before.

On September 15, 1963, five Black girls only 14 years of age gathered in the basement restroom of the 16th Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, Alabama to prepare for worship. It was their Sunday; Youth Sunday. Suddenly, joy turned to chaos; laughter to helplessness. A bomb, planted by a member of the Ku Klux Klan, exploded killing four of the girls while blinding and severely wounding the fifth.

Again, America has been here before.

Though some 50 plus years later, people are still incited to anger against others because of their race. And needless to say, many will look to the Church’s guidance in response to the senseless act of terror in Charleston.

After the shooting I was interviewed by an editor at the Atlanta Journal Constitution and he asked me how should churches operate in light of this incident. I told him by doing exactly what Mother Emanuel did–that is, being open and inclusive to everyone regardless of how they look. In my view, the nine people killed that night were martyred. They died in the act of expressing their faith and love towards someone who was different than they. They were living witnesses of Christ’s message.

The members at Emanuel refused to profile and reject Dylann Roof because he was White. To them, everyone had a seat at God’s table and a place in Christ’s Church. This is the same attitude the Church must maintain.

At the bond hearing, members of the victims’ families expressed their forgiveness towards Roof. Although their loved ones are gone, they saw the need to extend grace towards someone who is lost–the one in most need of the saving grace of Jesus Christ–the offender.

This is at the core of racial reconciliation–forgiving the transgressions of another even in the midst of the pain one has experienced. It is here that churches should begin the conversation on the race problem we face, realizing that progress is impossible void of forgiveness.

The unfortunate result is that churches will have to take more precautionary measures to keep congregants safe. Hiring security and making sure attendees are vigilant is now our new reality. And still our mission remains the same–to welcome all people.

Similar to the 16th Street Baptist Church bombing in 1963, the Emanuel A.M.E. church shooting of 2015 will cause America and the Church to view and discuss issues surrounding race differently. And it will bring out the worst in many. But this is the cost of racial reconciliation. It is the cost of saving lives.

Several weeks back I had lunch with Rev. Edwin King, the white pastor who led the Mississippi Church Visit campaign of 1964 to desegregate white churches in Jackson, Mississippi. We talked about the racial divide in Christianity and America in general. It was a productive and engaging conversation. But the looks that we received from people in the restaurant were most telling. Clearly an older white man having lunch with a young black man was out of the ordinary, which is exactly why we met in a public place.

Racial reconciliation calls people to have “out of the ordinary” moments frequently. It challenges our social and spiritual status quo. One response to the tragedy at Mother Emanuel should be for churches to have more “out of the ordinary” moments with people of a different race around conversations that make us uncomfortable. It is the best way forward.

The Church can no longer afford to live on empty rhetoric and a homogenized, Western perspective of the Kingdom of God. We must expand our language and our understanding of God’s Kingdom. This, however, is learned; and America is again witnessing what can happen when someone hates others because of their race.

So, I am angry. I am sorrowful. I am mourning. Yet, I am hopeful that as the deaths of martyrs in past times brought about change in many nations, the deaths of the Martyrs of Emanuel A.M.E. will also shake the conscience of America and touch the spirit of the Church to pursue racial reconciliation here and now.

 

Featured imagery courtesy Suzy Brooks on Unsplash

Elizabeth Glass Turner ~ Imagining Identity: When a Group Is Haunted by Suffering

The media photographer clicked at just the right moment.

The woman’s face is crumpled, crying out, grieving.

In fact, the use of the picture almost feels…voyeuristic.

How long will morning news shows play subdued tones, proclaiming the latest tragedy, in this case, “Special Edition: Charleston” in a way that reminds us all that every news outlet is for-profit?

The photo of the suffering black woman is an image of real emotional distress. She’s a flesh and blood person with stacks of mail and dishes.

What if imagery like this, artfully captured, reinforces a subtly subversive long-running narrative, though?

Your identity is suffering. You were made to bear the pain of your own existence.

In fact, the past couple of hundred years has held a great deal of suffering for Africans handcuffed on chains, taken to foreign soil, separated from their families, sold on auction blocks, beaten, raped, and forced to slave labor, separated from their husbands, wives, and children again, called “free” by a president but not bounty hunters, finally free but sometimes still despised, still told they weren’t good enough for water fountains or toilets or cafe counters.

And it’s my subjective view, only my personal response – you may perceive it differently than I do – but the news program’s profiteering use of this photo felt almost like the dynamic of a man muttering to his bruised wife, “this is all you’ll ever deserve. Don’t think you can do better than me.”

So a few thoughts today while our African Methodist Episcopal brothers and sisters try to regroup (Wesleyan Accent is proud to feature pieces from AME Zion voices like Dominique A. Robinson, Kelcy Steele and Otis McMillan).

The best photos the media can share during a crisis like the death of nine people in a church are the pictures of held hands, heads bowed: the images of prayer, unity, solidarity – the pieces of interviews like the one in which a woman affirmed, “in the midst of this, we want peace, we are for peace;” images that communicate a positive identity of community, resilience, peace, and worship. The photos are there if they’ll choose to use them. The media can carefully avoid crafting the narrative that it is the black community’s lot in life to suffer.

It seems 2015 is a bloody year for Christians. When I read a story about Christians gathered for a prayer and Bible study shot in cold blood, my mind races back to the men kneeling on the sand, waves sliding in and out, crying out to Jesus as their heads are cut off or they’re shot execution-style. Do not think for an instant that the evil that pulls the trigger in a Bible study at a black church is different than the evil that drives ISIS recruits to kill Christians; it is the same evil. Christians died worshiping.

It seems 2015 is the year that Wesleyan Methodist pastors and congregations need to drive across town, step across thresholds, and partner together for special shared services, projects, and worship. Nazarenes need to know where the restrooms are in A.M.E. Zion church buildings. United Methodist clergy need to know the names of local Free Methodist pastors. C.M.E. pastors need to know their way around the Wesleyan church’s website. The atmosphere of our world has changed. We have different histories, different traditions, different ways of worshiping. It doesn’t matter. We are a unique part of the Body of Christ. It’s time to pick up the phone.

“See how they love one another…”

Elizabeth Glass Turner ~ What Pastors Can Learn from Zumba

Recently I took a college student with me to a Zumba class at the local Y.

“What you see may not be pretty. What happens at Zumba stays at Zumba.” This warning is necessary for all who accompany me to a workout class, given my unique combination of Lucille Ball and Miranda Hart-like skills or, more specifically, lack thereof.

Male pastors in particular, I speak to you today. I understand you might be uncomfortable visiting a primarily female workout class (though occasionally there are a few men). My advice: book a special Zumba session just for you and your staff or clergy group. It will be highly instructive, and hey, we all know the risks to personal health that ministry can inflict. You probably need to get your target heart rate up anyway.

This post isn’t so much about what pastors can learn from Zumba as what they must, and because the Venn Diagram results of clergy who sweat through Latin music dance exercise class who write yields only a small overlap, I’m here today.

1. Leaders occasionally need to put themselves in a place of following instructions in a group.

Pastors, no matter what your role or title in a local congregation, are frequently up front and on the platform. Many gatherings of pastors, who, whatever their personalities, are intrinsically in leadership positions, end up being, “all shepherds, no sheep.” Pastors are used to making decisions, bearing a weight of responsibility, and being the one who has to run things.

When I enter Zumba class, I’m not the expert in the room – to put it mildly. I’m not choosing a hobby at which I already excel (a tempting option to tired leaders). I enter the room knowing I’m not the one in charge.

What blissful relief.

You’re not the one a roomful of people is following.

But be warned.

You’re not the one a roomful of people is following.

Can you be comfortable with that? It’s a good test. You need to have some area in your life, some space in your life, where you have to be the clueless follower. You may not choose Zumba as the arena in which to practice that (though I think it’d be a great staff exercise), but you need to remind yourself of what it is to follow.

It’s also helpful to watch how someone else leads. How do they cue? Do they seem like they enjoy what they’re doing? If you find yourself frustrated, why? Is it your lack of ability to mimic them? How might people on your staff or in your congregation or district or conference feel similar?

2. Leaders occasionally need to put themselves in a place of uncomfortable marginalization.

When I enter the aerobic room at the Y, which dauntingly has two mirrored walls, I set down my water and take my place.

At the back.

The very back.

Of the hour-long class, the first 20 minutes or so I can usually follow the leader pretty well. The next 20 minutes is definitely uphill. The last 20 minutes, I’m following her in my mind, but my body doesn’t cooperate and the word “flail” comes to mind.

I deliberately place myself on the margin, but I’m in a place of marginalization nonetheless. One of my first days in Zumba I remember thinking, “and this is what it must feel like to visit a church and feel completely out of place and bewildered.” Even if you have a great “hospitality team” or “greeters,” sometimes if they’re too in-your-face it feels just as overwhelming: you want to explore at your own pace, make your own judgments.

The only way through is…doing it. Friendly faces who smile wryly between songs while getting a drink of water are helpful, but at the end of the day, you’re the only one who can do it.

It’s valuable to remember the off-kilter feeling of being on the edge, the threshold. There are participants here who are already friends, who are familiar with the music, who run half marathons and even wear Zumba shoes. Who’s on the inside and who’s on the outside?

3. Leaders occasionally need to put themselves in a place of being a minority.

Depending on the day, sometimes when I walk into the room I’m a minority, not in terms of gender or skill, but in terms of race and cultural background. The first day I realized this, a deep wistfulness washed over me.

“Why don’t more churches look like this?” I thought.

There were senior citizens and teenagers, Latina women and black women and white women, fit women and very large women, chic women and dowdy women.

All sweating together, moving to the same music, like fitness Pentecost. We were sweating enough to feel like tongues of fire were on our heads.

It’s the history of the church and the future of the church.

I so want it to be the present.

When’s the last time you picked up your keys and drove somewhere to take part in something where your culture or race might not be dominant, especially if you’re Caucasian? Do you regularly seek that out as a discipline in your life?

As I look over these three points, something strikes me, after recently visiting the site in Georgia where John and Charles Wesley spent some time.

Wesley had trouble with these things at one point in his story, as he watched from the outside as the Moravians handle crisis gracefully, as he placed himself as an outsider in Georgia with the hopes of being a missionary to Native Americans, as he had trouble getting along and following others.

All of these things helped unsettle his heart so that it could be strangely warmed (not by an hour of Zumba, according to our best church history records).

If your ministry has stalled, go to Zumba. Maybe Aldersgate will follow.