Of Smart Phones and Emotional Safety: A Reflection on iGen

Guest Blog by Robert Brenneman, Assoc. Prof. of Sociology at Saint Michael’s College, VT

Not long ago I had a conversation with my 11-year-old son, Nico, that surprised even me. He had recently begun his first year of middle school in the local public school system and was considering the option of attending an after-school program centered on Lego building, something which he loves to do in his free time. But there was just one problem—staying late meant he would have to ride the elementary school bus home instead of the middle school bus. Of course, this was not to his liking, but not for the reasons I expected. “I like the middle school bus ‘coz it’s quiet,” he said. Huh? I was stumped. Whoever heard of a bus filled with sixth, seventh and eighth graders that’s “quiet”?! Not me.  “Yeah,” he went on, “On the middle school bus everyone’s on their phones and no one bothers me.” Nico is growing up iGen.

In her book iGen, Psychologist and San Diego State University Professor Jean Twenge writes about a generational shift that is changing what it means to be a teenager and young adult today. The lengthy sub-title of her book pretty much gives away the punchline: iGen: Why Today’s Super-Connected Kids Are Growing up Less Rebellious, More Tolerant, Less Happy—and Completely Unprepared for Adulthood (And What That Means for the Rest of Us). And let me say from the outset, I am smitten. Twenge is a superb writer with a penchant for taking reams of data and helping readers make sense of the patterns within it—while also alerting us to all of the caveats and risks associated with too-sweeping generalizations. In this case, however, Twenge has found some fairly profound cultural shifts that truly demand our attention. For starters, and this will surprise few readers, youth from iGen (a birth cohort that she identifies as having been born from 1995-2012) are more electronically connected than ever. This is, after all, the first generation to have been born after the rise of the commercial internet and which came of age just as smart phones made internet usage, social media, and electronic screens absolutely ubiquitous. Thus, almost all of the trends she identifies—including time spent looking at screens—apply across the board to US youth from all races, ethnicities and economic/educational levels. The trend toward greater time spent on the internet and/or screens correlates with a number of negative outcomes that have spiked rather suddenly. Teen rates of self-reported depression, thoughts of suicide, and loneliness are among the most obvious. But the actual rate of suicide has also increased. Interestingly though, the teen homicide rate has fallen at the same time as the teen suicide rate has risen. And here’s where her argument is, I think, at its most convincing.

Teens of the “iGen” are spending a lot less time actually interacting face-to-face, and a lot more time virtually interacting. One of the upsides to this is that these teens are safer from being physically harmed by others. Rates of rape, alcohol abuse, and teen pregnancy are falling along with the falling homicide rate. But emotional harm seems to have gone in the other direction. For Twenge—and for me since I came to this book fairly convinced of many of these trends already—the single most likely culprit for both the rise in physical safety as well as emotional anxiety and depression, is the rise of smart phones and social media. This is the case, argues Twenge, because a) no other comparable shift in culture and/or the pastimes of teens took place during the same time period (2008-2015) when the shift in outcomes are most pronounced, and because b) there is clear evidence from recent national surveys correlating increasing screen-time with deteriorating mental well-being.

Just as interesting is the fact that time spent in those activities that involve face-to-face interaction correlate with better mental health outcomes. For instance, in one of the many fascinating graphics she provides, the top two activities associated with a lowered “risk of high depressive symptoms” among 10th graders is 1) Engaging in Sports/exercise, and 2) (are you ready for this?) Attending religious services. Coming in third is “In-person social interaction.” What increases the risk of depressive symptoms? According to the same national survey, which is carried out by the University of Michigan’s National Institute on Drug Abuse; TV watching, internet news, and spending time on social networking websites all raise the odds of kids reporting symptoms of depression. According to additional details on her methods webpage (see page 22 in the pdf doc) this positive correlation is true even after controlling for race, class, and time spent interacting in person. In other words, kids who spend lots of time looking at screens are reporting more depression symptoms not just because they’re interacting less in person. The screen time appears to have a negative effect apart from and beyond the “crowd-out effect” of staying in rather than going out. There is a lot more to say about the research here and Twenge is well aware that her thesis is bold and therefore requires lots of data as well as careful explanation of the likely mechanisms at work.

 This book, however, is not narrowly focused on the screens and social media. It is a broad and deep analysis of the iGen. Anyone working with youth, including teachers, pastors, counselors or college professors like myself will find this book to be a valuable read. For instance, she also pays a lot of attention to a rise in a culture of individualism, especially in a chapter called “Irreligious: Losing My Religion (and Spirituality).” She reports that although for decades American sociologists have pointed out that Americans have remained far more religious than their European counterparts, that is starting to change and, if iGen is any indicator, is likely to change a lot more quickly soon. The reasons for this are multiple, and in this chapter as well as others, smart phones and social media do not receive as much attention perhaps because the rise of hyperindividualism—a key cultural shift contributing to young people’s skittishness around anything religious—was already in place well before the appearance of the iphone.

Another chapter I appreciated is called “Insulated but Not Intrinsic: More Safety and Less Community.” There she examines some of the trends that have been getting attention in the wider media recently, including the rise of “safe spaces” which many iGen-ers seem to demand as a kind of human right. Twenge agrees with certain other public intellectuals like Jonathan Haidt who worry that many college students have interpreted the right to safety as involving the guarantee that they will be protected from encountering people whose opinions might offend them. Her argument is that, compared with earlier generations, iGen-ers have learned to “play it safe”—staying at home instead of going out, waiting longer to get their drivers’ license, and, in some cases, putting off or even avoiding the party scene. At the same time, they have grown accustomed to avoiding encounters with people whose views are different from their own, since that might lead to hurt feelings or emotional discomfort. Put differently, Twenge believes that the desire for safety among iGen-ers has expanded beyond physical safety (access to which has indeed improved in a number of ways) to include a desire for “emotional safety” understood as freedom from having to come into contact with people who disagree with me. After all, this is a generation that has noticeably less experience (compared with Gen-X’ers and Boomers) navigating the messiness of real face-to-face encounters. Live social interaction can be difficult and scary for them, the more so when it involves people with whom they disagree.

As I mentioned above, I had a strongly positive reaction to Twenge’s book. In fact, I had the distinct impression at times that I was reading a work by a sociologist, rather than a psychologist. Not that psychologists can’t be brilliant (or sociologists dull and naïve)—many are. But it is profoundly refreshing to read work by a psychologist who excels at making the link between broader cultural and social changes, and the “choices” made by individuals who inhabit those cultural and social spaces.

Of course, the cultural changes ushered in largely by the spread of a technology do not just impact “choices” made. They impact the reality that we, and especially iGen-ers, live in and must deal with. My son Nico does not yet have a phone, but since most of his bus-riding peers do, he will be increasingly “left alone” if not “left out” by his generation the longer he goes without one. And this leads to the agonizing decision that will be made by many Gen-X parents like me—when will we have to buy the kids a phone? One more reason to think carefully and strategically about the social circles that envelope your kids. They matter now more than ever.

I first met Bob Brenneman in 1996 when he was serving with Mennonite Central Committee in Guatemala. Our friendship and conversations—theological, sociological, and personal—have continued and deepened over the years. A detective could find many of his “fingerprints” on my Discipleship and Ethics course, including, but not limited to: conversation with him about the first version of the course led to changes in the syllabus, I borrowed the one-day tech fast assignment from him, he pointed me to the material I use on inequality, and in recent years his book, Homies and Hermanos, is a text in the class. I am very pleased he agreed to write this blog for the website. Check out more of his blogs at: www.homiesandhermanosbook.wordpress.com

Let's Talk About Sin

“When is last time you used the word ‘sin’ in a conversation?” I recently began a sermon with that question. My assumption was that for many, myself included, it had been awhile. Why? In part, in a society in which tolerance is the supreme virtue, it is not appropriate to talk about sins. But why, even in some churches is the word avoided?

Perhaps it is in response to ways sin has been talked about–as if declaring war on pleasure. Or maybe because the ones using the term were self-righteous-finger-pointing-shamers. Or, perhaps because of the way the word “sin” was linked with an image of a judgmental God–“the big eye in the sky,” people left the term behind as they appropriately ran away from that concept of God.

These are understandable reasons for moving away from talking about sin. But, as I asked that Sunday morning, have we moved too far?

What led me to give a sermon exhorting the congregation to talk more about sin? 

Two books had challenged me and came to mind as I read the biblical texts I was asked to preach on.

In Sin and Grace in Christian Counseling: An Integrative Paradigm Mark McMinn describes how he did not talk about sin much, thinking of himself as a grace-oriented counselor. But he began to wonder, can we fully understand or experience grace without a robust understanding of sin?  “A true understanding of grace has also been lost, because it cannot exist without a language of sin. . . Too often we integrationists are minimizing both grace and sin because our psychological vocabulary does not allow for these notions”(19, 22).

David Brooks, a New York Times columnist does not identify as a Christian, but he appears to be exploring the way of Jesus--often quoting Christian writers. Yet, I did not expect him to talk about sin in his book, The Road to Character. But there it is, on page 54. Like McMinn, Brooks advocates for pulling sin language out of the dustbin and using it. “Sin is a necessary piece of our mental furniture because it reminds us that life is a moral affair. . . No matter how hard we strive to replace sin with nonmoral words, like ‘mistake’ or ‘error’ or ‘weakness,’ the most essential parts of life are matters of individual responsibility and moral choice: whether to be brave or cowardly, honest or deceitful, compassionate or callous, faithful or disloyal. . . To banish words like [‘sin,’] ‘virtue,’ ‘character’ . . . and ‘vice’ . . . means we think and talk about these choices less clearly, and thus become increasingly blind to the moral stakes of everyday life” (54).

Later in the book, he reflects on David Chappell’s analysis of the civil rights movement in A Stone of Hope. One stream of the movement had an optimistic view of human nature and believed that through education and appeal to reason people would gradually see that racism is wrong. The other stream, led by Martin Luther King Jr., emerged from the biblical prophetic tradition. King declared, “Instead of assured progress in wisdom and decency, man faces the ever present possibility of swift relapse not merely to animalism, but into such calculated cruelty as no other animal can practice” (146). King's more serious consideration of the human propensity toward sin led him, and those with him, to be more realistic about others, more humble about themselves, more aggressive, and better able to deal with pain, suffering and setbacks.

These authors had me thinking that although bounded group religiosity often talks about sin in harmful ways, the fuzzy group’s alternative of banning the term also is problematic. A centered approach requires talk of sin. For reasons that McMinn and Brooks point to, and because a centered approach requires a sense of turning from something–turning from sin toward the center. Perhaps we can use a different word than “sin,” but we clearly need the concept.

So, propelled by these authors, I decided to preach on sin.

(If I was giving a three-hour class, rather than preaching a sermon or writing a blog, I would take the time to not just talk about “sins,” but also about what leads us to sin. Viewing the root problem as something in our DNA, passed on, according to Augustine, in male semen contributes to the toxic ways of talking about sin listed above–and more. Much better to go with the pre-Augustinian view of understanding the root problem as alienation, broken relationship with God and others. But rather than giving a “lecture” on that I will simply do what I did that Sunday, suggest you read John E. Toews's book, The Story of Original Sin or send me an e-mail and I will send you my lecture notes on these two contrasting views of sin.)

Knowing I would be encouraging listeners to think and talk more about sins I sought to practice what I was going to preach. I did not do very well. I would prayerful reflect over my days: how had I sinned? Not much came to mind. In part I think it is because “the list” view of sins is so deeply embedded in my being. In my youth I would occasionally slip up and then confess my infraction, but in general I steered clear of the sins on the list in my mind—things like lying, cheating, stealing, swearing, drinking, etc.

At a theoretical level I agreed with McMinn and Brooks, and I was working on a sermon advocating the same thing, but personal application was not going well.

Midway through sermon prep a shift happened when I began crafting my comments on the gospel text for the day—Mark 1:1-8. The word “sins” is in the text. John the Baptist proclaimed “a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” The more significant word, the one that stood out to me, was “repentance.” That day, riding my bike home from the seminary, instead of asking “how have I sinned today?” I found myself asking repentance questions: "What are ways I am heading in the wrong direction? Ways I got off track today?"

I asked those questions and as I passed by the county fairgrounds what came to mind was: interruption. I had interrupted others a couple times in the seminary faculty meeting. Interrupting someone was not on my sin list. It would never have come up as an answer to the question: “how have I sinned today?” And, on the other hand it was not a new revelation. I have been working on interrupting less. But in this space of repentance and prayerful openness something new happened. A question came to mind, perhaps by God’s Spirit: “What are you communicating when you interrupt?” I responded, “I communicate that what I have to say is more important than what the other person is saying.” I had an immediate and powerful response. “I do not want to be that kind of person. I repent. I want to change.” What a different experience simply by changing words from "sin" to "repent."

I invite you to let John the Baptist call you to repent just as he called people like us to repent in first century Palestine. But John offers us something more than just some alternative vocabulary for asking the sin question. He prepares the way for someone greater; he points us to Jesus Christ. Someone who also will invite people to repent and offer forgiveness for sins. In fact just a few verses later Jesus proclaims “repent and believe the good news” (v. 15).

What happens when we think about “sins” and “repentance” through the lens of this one John points us to?  Jesus is God incarnate and in Jesus we see the character of the God of nurturing love. Think back to reasons I listed that some of us have moved away from using sin language—scolding, shaming, punitive, lists. Is that Jesus?  

It makes a difference who is talking about sins and repentance: a nurturing caring God, or the big-eye-in- the-sky-God? A nurturing God, like a loving mother or father, still disciplines, still calls for repentance, but it feels significantly different than a shaming, scolding call to turn from sin.

Jesus calls for repentance, challenges us to turn from sin, but it is a call for repentance draped in love.

Let us not simply do what David Brooks does and call for a return to using the language of sin, rather let us use the language of repentance and sin more often, but always bind it to Jesus, wrap it in the nurturing love of God. My experience also points to the importance of working to re-frame the word “sin,” and to use other words to talk about sin.

I was just talking about these contrasting experiences with a student–the sin list vs. a loving God calling me to repent. I realized the first leads me to treat sin like laws and view God like judge or police officer. In my daily life I seek to not break the law. As long as I obey the list of laws the police, the district attorney, and the judge leave me alone. Although in some sense the criminal justice system contributes to my well-being by encouraging me to obey the law, I do not view them as helping me to thrive. I do not expect the police to stop by and give me counsel on how to improve my relationship with my wife or co-workers. I have a very different view of my parents, mentors, pastor, or therapist. Who do you imagine calling you to repent, God as police officer with a list of laws, or God like a mentor, pastor, or therapist? With the sin list mentality the objective is to get God, the police officer, to leave me alone. In contrast, I invite the loving God into my life with hopeful expectation that the call to repent will contribute to a more abundant life.

I will end as I ended the sermon, by suggesting a daily practice you might take up.

Four steps:

1. Focus your mind on an image of God’s nurturing love: perhaps Jesus’ loving gaze, God giving you a maternal hug, a caring shepherd; use an image that works for you.

2. Then, in the security of that love, ask God: what are you calling me to repent from today? Reflect, listen, think back over your day.

3. Confess, repent—make a commitment to change direction.

4. Rest in God’s loving forgiveness.

An important note: Some of you need no exhortation to think daily about your sins and shortcomings. You may need an exhortation to do it less. If that is your situation then the first step is of utmost importance and value.

What might happen if we take up this practice? What might God be lovingly calling you to repent from? What are ways God might be calling you to turn around, change direction?

God loves you, and because God loves you, God calls you to repent, calls you to leave behind attitudes, practices, habits, thoughts, and turn to new ways that will be better for you, for others, for creation.

Little Things Matter

I am the type that retrieves a water bottle from a trash can and puts it in the recycle bin. Just did it leaving class last night. I often feel compelled to take small actions like that—with a sense that they matter. Once in Honduras I joined neighbors to stop a forest fire from reaching our homes. A trail in the woods was our line of defense. We cleared brush on both sides of the trail so the fire would not cross that line. Then we stood guard in case sparks blew across the trail. As I watched the fire crawl down the hill towards us I looked at the little pine trees in between the trail and the approaching flames. While others stood by, I went up the hill a few yards and began clearing more brush. I made a new line of defense that saved a few of the trees. In the months ahead I would pass those trees and think, “little things matter.” We see this in the Bible—a few loaves and fishes, a mustard seed, a few coins. Thinking of forest fires reminds me that James states it explicitly. The tongue is a small thing, but like a small fire can set a whole forest ablaze so the small tongue can do great harm (James 3:1-12). Little things matter. Big things can come from them. Although I can make a biblical case for this point, I can’t claim my attention to small things flows from reading the Bible. Perhaps it does. Perhaps it is my personality. Whatever the origin of it, I do live as if little things matter.

My conviction that little things matter was reinforced in a number of ways in the last couple weeks. Articles warning of negative consequences of overuse of mobile devices have gone mainstream. I have read and heard many in recent days. An article in Time reported that, since 2010, rates of teenage depression and suicide have increased dramatically. Many believe mobile phone use and social media are a significant reason. (Just one statistic, see the article for more: adolescents who use electronic devices three or more hours a day were 34% more likely to have a suicide related outcome than those who used them two hours or less; with five hour daily use the likelihood increased to 48%.) That article, or news clips like this one and this one from NPR, saddened and sobered me. Yet, little things matter. There is hope.

A student, Matt Vincent, wrote this in a post last week:

A while ago, we "woke up" to the reality that our kids were spending more and more time online—either playing games or watching youtube/video content. We were beginning to notice some behavioral changes like those mentioned in the audio posts--grumpy, irritable, temper, and withdrawn. My wife and I decided to impose a "technology fast" for the kids—taking away phones, computer, etc. for a week. Our kids were not fans of this idea, and tried their best to argue that it wasn't needed and everything was fine :)

Almost immediately, we noticed a change in them. They started hanging out and playing more together; they spent more time outside with friends, and our time together as a family was better. We enjoyed longer conversations around the dinner table, and did more activities together. It was a pretty remarkable change.

Little things matter, and studies affirm what this student observed—remarkable positive change can come quickly. In a New York Times article Sherry Turkle describes an alarming drop in empathy amongst children and youth. Then she writes:

But we are resilient. The psychologist Yalda T. Uhls was the lead author on a 2014 study of children at a device-free outdoor camp. After five days without phones or tablets, these campers were able to read facial emotions and correctly identify the emotions of actors in videotaped scenes significantly better than a control group. What fostered these new empathic responses? They talked to one another. In conversation, things go best if you pay close attention and learn how to put yourself in someone else’s shoes.

Resiliency is not limited to humans, it is found throughout God’s creation. I saw this in another student’s reflection a couple weeks ago. Eric Miller visited a Kansas farmer as part of an act-observe-reflect-adjust assignment. Eric retells the farmer’s story from a recent seven-year drought.

One August morning he walked out of the house and it was already uncomfortably hot as the sun began to rise. He thought about his 2,000 acres of crops and his ten irrigation pivots which were each pumping 1000 gallons per minute out of the Equs Beds Aquifer. It was in that moment he started to call into question the sustainability of these methods where much of the crops grown in our state are consumed by animals so we can consume the animals. When I asked him about the future, he said without missing a beat, “We’re going to run out of water. It’s not a matter of if, it’s a matter of when.”

 He is currently in process of transitioning a quarter section (160 acres) back to grass and grazing his cows on it. This is only possible because there is now a growing market for grass-fed beef. He is also planting cover crops all winter and using the cover crops as mulch in which he plants grain in the spring. These methods have allowed him to use one tenth of the water he had been using! The young man who is working alongside him and in process of taking over the farming operation has hired a crop consultant who is helping them move away from monocultural farming methods in order to reduce the amount of herbicides and pesticides needed, which in turn reduces input costs and increases profitability. At one point in our conversation he told me, “Kansas was meant to be prairie. At some point it will need to return to Prairie.” Their crop consultant is helping them consider how to use the natural gifts of the prairie to produce food in the most sustainable ways. 

Little things matter. They are worth doing. Of course one could say, “this is a huge farm these are not little things—that is a lot of cover crop.” True, but the huge ramifications that flow from small changes still led me to think, “little things matter.” There is hope.

It is not just in growing food that little things matter, also in eating it. One student described radical life-giving changes that flowed from his avoiding sugar in his diet. Little things matter. They can bring positive changes to our lives. And little things matter not just in what we eat, but also in the setting, the meal itself. This semester a few students wrote of making the commitment to prepare meals at home and eat together around a table for the week the course focused on food and farming. As students have observed other years, this contributes to so much more than intake of healthier food. They describe increased laughter, connection, sharing. The relational impact from this simple change exceeded expectations. Little things matter.

As we seek to name others, little things matter—a question, looking someone in the eyes. Last week a woman told me of a vivid memory from a few years ago. She was sitting with her husband and another man—all three were in leadership roles in ministry. She recounted that her husband brought up a controversial Rob Bell book. She said, “so I braced myself for a long theological discussion where my brain wanders but my face pretends to listen attentively. My husband casually mentioned that I also had read the book and at the next pause in conversation the other man looked at me and asked, ‘What did you think about it?’ This small question spoke volumes. I’ve been in Christian settings and leadership positions for many years, and I remember this as the first time someone specifically and genuinely asked for my thoughts. It was one of those revealing moments that was disappointing because it shed light on how often I’m not asked questions–especially when my husband is around–but it also was an incredibly beautiful moment.” Little things matter.

How have you gained hope and been encouraged by seeing God use little things in your life or ministry? What little things might God be calling you to do?

From Sabotage to Collaboration: A Factory’s Dramatic Shift from a Bounded to Centered Approach

Guest Blog by Nathan Hunt

Back in the ‘70s, one of Frito Lay’s production plants received a rash of angry letters from customers with same bizarre complaint: their potato chips had obscene messages written on them. As leadership in the company assessed the situation at the plant, it quickly became obvious that this was just one more symptom of a very unhealthy workplace. “The climate at that plant was toxic. Supervisors there were using the traditional ‘progressive-discipline’ system for all violations, serious or trivial. They eagerly wrote up troublemakers in an attempt to run off malcontents. Every employee who received any disciplinary contact was considered a ‘troublemaker;’ his performance was attentively watched with the goal of finding sufficient evidence of misbehavior to whisk him through the discipline system and out the door” (Grote, 1). Plant managers had fired 58 of their 210 employees in the past eight months, convinced that harshly punishing any minor break from “the rules” was the best way to improve their employees’ quality of work. Not surprisingly, it had done exactly the opposite. All this led to pent up frustrations, staggeringly low morale and the desire to somehow “get back” at their managers for being such jerks. In that spirit, one unnamed employee decided to take matters into his or her own hands and started writing the obscene messages on potato chips.

How do you fix issues as systemic as these? They could not just throw out or ignore all policies and rules. The company still needed to function efficiently and productively to stay in business. Dismissing these necessities would bankrupt the company and undermine any ability to accomplish their mission. Nonetheless, Frito Lay’s dysfunctional system for dealing with their employee’s mistakes and deviances was clearly at the heart of the problem.

They made a radical decision. Supervisors would treat employees like human beings worthy of respect. Frito Lay stated, “We created a system that focused on insisting that people take personal responsibility for their choices of behavior and conduct--a system that reflected our belief that every one of our employees, even our ‘troublemakers,’ was a mature, responsible, and trustworthy adult who would respond that way if we treated him that way” (2). Management learned to stop penalizing employees after every little infraction. Instead, they worked to cast a compelling cultural vision of what a true Frito Lay employee is like: honest, hardworking, supportive, etc. Deciding to work for Frito Lay was also a personal decision to value and embody those characteristics

A manager would remind the employee that they had decided for their self to live out Frito Lay’s values—it was something they personally desired to be. Together, the manager and employee would explore what barriers were keeping the employee from living up to their values, look for creative solutions and place the responsibility for those actions on the shoulders of the employee. If he or she continued to fall short of the company’s values, the employee would be given a paid day off. The day off was an opportunity to reflect on what the person wanted for their self and who they wanted to be. They could either return and live out the vision of the company or resign with the manager’s blessing. The decision was in their hands, and at all stages the goal was to cultivate everyone into the best possible person—not weed out the “troublemakers.”

After two years of using this approach, terminations at the plant dropped from 58 in an eight-month period to 2. Camaraderie returned among employees and with their supervisors. Production increased. “The plant was transformed” (24).

Christians and churches all over the world are attempting to transition away from the legalistic patterns that historically marked our approach to “sin.” Our religiosity and boundary making has embittered many of our own and alienated many more watching from the outside. Far too many proverbial “curse-word-covered potato chips” have been shipped out into the world by well-meaning congregations.

In reaction to our judgmental past, the temptation is to toss all the rules and standards out the window. It feels much more loving to listen to the sirens of American culture and remake ourselves into a fully open and unilaterally tolerant club, accepting everyone exactly as they are. However, a moment of reflection reveals that this approach also falls short. Just like Frito Lay, the Church has a mission. Theirs was making potato chips efficiently and profitably. Doing so required a particular caliber of employee, doing their very best to live out the company’s culture of excellence. The Church also has a mission. We have been called to be a worshiping and serving community, glorifying God and building for his Kingdom of shalom. Doing so requires people striving to model their life after Jesus.

A centered set approach to discipleship is not an “anything goes” paradigm, blithely disposing of the high ethical standards Jesus established through his teaching, ministry and self-sacrificing death. Rather, it asks us to dispose of the arbitrary rules that create unhelpful boundaries for determining righteousness, acknowledging that these do more to undermine than facilitate the Church’s collective quest for holiness. It asks us to shift from enforcing standards through the threat of punishment, to calling Christ-followers to take responsibility for their behavior accompanied by others offering loving support.

In place of rules and boundaries, we are called to gaze at the impossibly lofty vision of Christ on the cross and continually challenge one another to press toward him. We are called to treat people like adults who do not need carefully delineated rules and punishments to keep them in line. We are called to respect the dignity of each person. Doing so means allowing some to choose the journey and others to reject it, always ready to welcome them back with grace and point them toward Jesus.

What are ways the case study informs your thinking about and practice of a centered approach?

Act, Observe, Reflect, Adjust

“I never realized….” “I will start…” “I saw something new about myself.” “I am going to change….” Phrases like these began showing up with much greater frequency in my students’ papers starting in the spring of 2011. Why the sudden increase in 2011? I can trace the answer to that question to a conversation at Bob Brenneman’s kitchen table in Vermont. Bob, a sociology professor, shared excitedly of the impact of a new assignment. He had his students fast from their phones for a day and during that time compose a hand-written letter. I borrowed the assignment from Bob—literally; I lifted the words from his syllabus. The depth of reflection and the commitment to life-change increased dramatically in comparison to the class response assignment I had previously used. Impressed, I began to think of other action-reflection assignments I could add to the Discipleship and Ethics course.

I will share a few lines from students’ reflections—to give you a feel for what excited Bob and I, but the main purpose of this blog is not to pass along information that others have learned. Rather, I write this blog to encourage you to use these same activities in your church, with your family, your small group, with clients you counsel, in youth group, in courses you teach, etc. I will begin by listing the five action-reflection assignments I use. Borrow them as I borrowed from Bob!  

 Act

The action assignments I now use are: a one-day cell-phone fast, composing and sending a handwritten letter, visiting a mall and thinking about it as a place of worship, a five day fast from television, watching TV commercials with a critical eye, and making a change in food purchasing or preparing for one week. Copied below are the actual assignments. Although they will need some adaptation for non-academic settings. It would be easy to do so.

One-day cell-phone fast

Choose a day in the week ahead for a fast from electronic communication (cell phone/mobile devices, e-mail, Twitter, Facebook and any other internet based forms of communication). You may choose the length of the fast, all day would be ideal, but less than that is acceptable. Sometime during your fast write a handwritten letter to someone you normally communicate with electronically and mail it/deliver it to them.  After you have written the letter write a two-part critical reflection. Part one: through the lens of class 6, reflect on your experience of the fast – including stating how long your fast was; you may want to utilize some of Erisman’s questions in your reflection. Part two: reflect on the experience of communicating through the handwritten, pen and paper medium what did you learn? It should be one page single-spaced and is due by class 7.

Mall visit

Spend an hour at a mall observing how it acts as a religious place of formation and worship. Liturgy and worship practices reflect what matters to us and shape us; they give us a vision for a way of life and call us to that way of life, invite our allegiance and obedience. What is the foundational narrative of the mall—its basic truths? What is its view of the human, of “sin”? What is the vision of the good life it calls us to? What kind of people does it want us to become? As you are at the mall seek to discern the “liturgies,” the “sermons,” the “worship” practices of the mall. How does it communicate its foundational narrative/basic truths and how does it seek to shape and call us to be the kind of people it wants us to be? Write a one page (single-spaced) analysis based on your observations. Answer the above questions. Integrate specific examples from the last question (How...?) into your answers to the other questions. (Idea borrowed from James K. A. Smith [Desiring the Kingdom, Baker Academic, 2009, 96-101]).

Watching TV commercials with a critical eye

Be a critical watcher of TV commercials this week. Take notes as you watch. What messages are communicated explicitly and implicitly? What are common themes and methods? How do they cohere with and conflict with the gospel and the Kingdom of God? Write a response letter reflecting on what you observed and learned. Send it to your friend and me before the next class.

Five-day TV and Internet Fast

Take a five day fast from T.V., videos and entertainment/news on the internet (You may continue to use internet based forms of communication like e-mail, but some break from that is encouraged as well). Write a response letter reflecting on the experience and what you observed and learned. Send it to your friend and me before the next class.

Food – do something different

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

 Observe

The actions made all the difference. That was the new addition to the course. But all three elements evident in the assignments are necessary. For instance it is not the action of going to the mall that is significant. Many people do that all the time. Rather it is going with the intent to observe as these comments display:

“The Mall has a very specific idea about the type of person it wants you to become. It is one thing to be aware of that at some level—and a very good thing at that—but to be consciously aware of the mall’s myriad attempts at high-jacking your desires for its own purposes is something else. Going to the mall with the intention of being consciously aware of its liturgies is staggering.”

“As I walked through the mall with a life full of experiences of paying down credit cards, I realized that these stores which offer jewelry for ‘low financing.’ or the clothing store which offers introductory credit cards, were not trying to help better people’s lives or help them as a person but they were instead offering a false promise of a ‘better’ life.”

“I noticed in that moment how easily one can be drawn in to the promise of the good life.”

Similarly, we see ads on the TV and Internet all the time, but to stop and observe with intentionality is something else. The step of observation is important in relation to all the actions--even the ones that will be experienced as new and attention grabbing. As one student wrote, “Impressive how our view on things changes if we are more mindful of what is happening.”

Reflect

It is not, however, just to observe, but also to reflect. What do we learn about ourselves and society? What important issues does the action raise? The value of not just acting, but reflecting is evident in these comments:

 “I do think that I have a clearer understand of just how damaging this environment is for me. It is apparent how the mall as an entity aims to lead us in a direction that may in fact be opposite of where we need to be headed.”

“At the moment, movies are the background noise I hide behind. As I stepped into the silent evenings and quiet moments during the day when my work was done, many things I didn’t really want to think about or didn’t want to pray about but needed to were slapping me in the face constantly. My mind was free. No static. I was forced to think. Forced to pray. Forced to heal.”

“I realized how much time and energy I spent caring about what other people were doing on social media, instead of using that energy to focus on today and what I need to get done. I also realized how much social media makes me feel like I need to work harder to catch up to others, yet at the same time is stealing my time to get things done.”

“In my most consumed moments of social media and technology there are instances where I become aware that I am looking for something. I ask myself in that moment: what am I looking for? What do I need right in this moment that I think social media can fill? Is it friendship? A connection? Personal meaning? Motivation? Am I avoiding something? Am I seeking attention? Recognition?”

The depth of reflection flowing from these assignments encourages me and calls me to ponder with the students. Perhaps what I most enjoy, however, is the way students stumble into unexpected joy through the actions taken. For instance, one student’s family rather than grabbing fast food, committed to make all their suppers and eat them together at the table. He made some comments about healthier food—the sort of thing I had expected. But mostly he reflected on relationships and the way family dynamics changed, positively, through their eating together. Regularly students, after recounting their children’s resistance to joining in the TV/Internet fast, then describe in wonder the joy of the family playing games together.

Adjust

I do not require students to spell out specific applications, although writing this blog has led me to make changes in the assignments. I have added "adjust." It is a key question flowing from reflection: How will you adjust your life, what will you do differently? Yet, even without asking that question, the power of the experience frequently leads people to state: “I have decided to….” “I will start….” “I will stop…..”

How might you adapt and use these act-observe-reflect-adjust activities? I invite you to take a few moments and think of settings where you could use them. What are other action oriented learning activities related to themes of this website that you have used or can imagine using? (Please share them with the rest of us in the comment section.)

Which Gang are you Running With?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Honduras, Galatians, 25 years

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Whiteness

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Invitation

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

Willie Jennings

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Observations

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[2] Jennings, 80.

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

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

Seven Strategies for Finding Freedom from Digital Adultery

Guest Blog by Forest Benedict

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

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

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

Harmed Relationships

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

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

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

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

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

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

Countless Consequences

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

Specific Strategies

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Hope of Renewal

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Postmodern Christians, We Have a Problem (Or Two)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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