:: In.a.Mirror.Dimly ::

I have something surprising, if not shocking to share with you. It’s something so astounding, that you may not even believe me.

Nothing can quite prepare you for this. So I’ll just go ahead and say it:

There are Christians who love Jesus, serve Jesus, and are even saved by Jesus who… disagree with me.

I know, I know, that is shocking news for you. I sometimes find it hard to believe some days.

There are divisions in the church that separate the sheep from the goats, but these divisions don’t necessarily lead to breaks in our fellowship with one another—even if these divisions take issue with my awesome perspective…

If you’ve read my book Coffeehouse Theology, you know that I’m a firm advocate for dialogue with other Christian perspectives. In fact, the diversity of Christian views available makes the Christian faith stronger in today’s context.

Over the past year I’ve given a lot of time to thinking over redemptive approaches to others, and I think division itself can play a somewhat redemptive function, provided we know when to unite.

My grandparents used to have this huge German Shepherd. They loved that dog, but it growled at the grandkids. Every time we came over, the dog was relocated upstairs. We were divided on our views and experiences of the dog, but for the sake of visiting with each other, the dog was hustled upstairs and locked away.

There are some issues in Christianity today where we have sharp disagreements, and so far as I can tell, we’ll always be divided to a certain degree. We can play around with our word choice here, but I think the word “divided” is in the only way I can honestly describe the nature of some debates.

I’ve seen some Christians do admirable work at fostering dialogue and understanding. There is real value to such dialogue, but I’m curious whether each side enters dialogue thinking, “If I just expressed my views perfectly, those other dummies will change their minds.”

There simply are issues where Christians both love Jesus and remain divided. In most cases that come to mind, civil dialogue won’t bring us to a place where many on either side will change their minds.

Our divisions are real, but we don’t have to let them consume us.

Our divisions are real, but they don’t have to cut us off from one another.

Our divisions are real, but we can actually remain united in spite of them.

For the foreseeable future, I don’t see myself attending a church where women aren’t allowed to teach. I will continue to acknowledge spiritual gifts and healings. I can’t imagine ever again tying the Republican party to my Christian faith. I don’t see the point in trying to ban same sex marriage, but I know I’m not as progressive on this issue as many of my left-leaning friends.

Those are just a few of the issues where I differ from some other Christians that I know. These are issues that “divide” us on one level, but I don’t have to let them get in the way of what actually unites us.

Let’s face it, we’re going to hang on to different theologies, support different cases, and attend different churches. The solution isn’t getting everyone on the same page, and sometimes the solution isn’t always dialogue.

Christian unity does not come from our heads. Unity isn’t a list of bullet points. Unity comes from the life of God’s Spirit within us. Our fights and divisions can’t undo the presence of God among his people.

However, we can decide that our issues and divisions are more important than God’s Spirit. We can fail to recognize the means by which God has made us one—sabotaging his uniting work among us in spite of our divisions.

If someone is good enough for God’s dwelling Spirit, then who am I say I’m too good, too right, or too “just” to have fellowship? How could I ever think I have higher standards than God? 

I love my family, but we’ve had our issues. The “messy” bits of my life aren’t that important to me now. What’s important is that I figured out how to survive in some pretty dysfunctional situations and am now on good terms with all of my family.

What’s even more important is that God sustained me throughout those tough times in my life.

Having made it through some dysfunctional seasons where I wasn’t on the same page with some people I loved, I’ve learned a thing or two about dealing with conflict. While I’m not an expert, I know dysfunction when I see it, and I have some relational muscles I’ve developed over the years as I’ve done some heavy-lifting in my relationships.

Heaven knows I don’t have any other kinds of muscles to speak of… that is, unless a hard head counts.

So I have two things I want to say:

1. Christians sometimes operate like a dysfunctional family.

2. Christians can use the same relational tools I’ve used with my own family (and others have as well) in order to sort out their issues with one another.

I feel like the first point is a no-brainer. However, the second one may be a bit tougher to swallow. I mean, aren’t we supposed to be one, just as Jesus and the Father are one? Isn’t the Holy Spirit supposed to make us one heart and one mind.

Yes, but…

In an imperfect world we need to commit ourselves to prayer and the work of the Spirit, but we’re not always at the same place as one another. In some situations the unity of the Spirit is something that we should aspire to, but we should also bring a dose of realism to our prayerful idealism and hopes.

Here are three things I’ve learned from navigating family conflict that apply to relationships in the Christian family:

• Learn when a conflict is worth it.
• Learn when to set up boundaries.
• Never forget that you’re family.

The first principle teaches us to walk away from fights that can’t do anyone much good. Sometimes we have to accept defeat, even if we know we’re in the right.

The second is about defending yourself from spiritual or emotional abuse. Sometimes you just need to stop the bleeding before anything else can happen.

The third reminds us that God’s word stands and his Spirit will win one day despite our imperfections.

May we be made one some day in the perfect love of God.

There’s a certain pattern that I’ve noticed in my own blogging that really, really bugs me. I see it elsewhere too, but I’ll just speak to myself. Perhaps a story will help:

The Racist Video

A few years back, a major Christian publisher released curriculum that included a blatantly racist video. There was a huge outcry over it. I was part of that outcry.

God has laid it on my heart to seek redemptive paths forward. I don’t know how successful I have been, but I tried to write a post that was both understanding and constructive with ideas for steps forward.

I received a lot of traffic from that post, and some of the offended parties even wrote to express their appreciation. However, something doesn’t sit right about all of it for me.

Ignoring Our Problems

The bigger problem is that I was reacting to racism in the church, but I hadn’t been taking active steps toward the kind of unity that the New Testament says the Holy Spirit wants to create. I was just going about my business, doing my own thing, not worrying about the very real racial challenges we face in the church.

I was waiting for something to go wrong, and then I got to pontificate when someone crossed the line.

Racism is not a small matter. We’re talking about one of our big problems. These are not the kinds of things we resolve with a blog post, no matter how self-righteous I can make it. These resolutions require long term, sustained commitment.

If I can step back for a moment…

Do I Only Address Our Problems When They Explode?

The point isn’t necessarily that we should never write in reaction to another Christian’s insensitive or flat out stupid remarks. We need to write what we feel God lays on our hearts. However, I’m deeply bothered that I rely on controversy and insensitive statements to force me into addressing Christianity’s big problems.

I don’t see this as an either/or. We can’t be proactive about EVERY problem in the church. Each Christian has to discern where he/she is called to serve others and which problems he/she can address. Sometimes we’ll have a constructive response to add to a discussion where we haven’t been involved.

I’m more concerned that I haven’t been too involved in resolving much of anything over the years.

Being proactive about our big, important problems won’t stop a public leader or celebrity from making an insensitive or destructive remark. However, I’m not proposing a top-down solution.

I’m more interested in a bottom-up, mustard seed-sized solution that is costly and takes time to grow in the margins. It looks foolish to the world, but it has time to grow in the wisdom of God.

When I think of how we could use our blogs, I wonder what it would look like to use them as our story-telling platforms for the Kingdom-building work that God is using us to do. That requires first getting into the game by recognizing what God wants us to do where we are: bringing healing where there has been racism, injustice, homophobia, misogyny, or a natural disaster.

Then we can tell our better stories and create a proactive, redemptive culture in the church. When the big media platform Christians spout off their nonsense, we’ll have our own platform of mustard seed stories that are more stable and life-giving. We’ll have something better to say than, “You’re wrong!” We’ll be witnesses of a better reality, and we can testify to the way God has worked in our midst.

Who knows, someone may even listen…

My Plan for Addressing Misogyny and Equality for Women

I’m working my way out of the theory for these ideas into something concrete. At this point I’m actively making plans to start a new series at my blog in January. The plan is to launch a weekly guest post series about women in ministry—anything from teaching to hospitality.

I want to create a place where women can write about their experiences in ministry or being ministered to by a woman. The goal is to create an encouraging environment where women are affirmed by others to pursue their callings from God. Enough has been done, chiefly by men, to discourage women. It’s time to tell stories that will help drown out the negativity that women are subjected to on a daily basis.

Finding a ministry calling is hard enough. I can’t imagine having a chorus of male leaders saying that my anatomy rules me out from many aspects of ministry.

The plans are still taking shape for this series. I’ve weighed in quite enough on the debates about what women can and cannot do in the church. It’s time to encourage women in their God-given callings.

Is there a particular issue in the church that has been on your heart lately?

There is one thing that I really, really dislike about moving.

It’s not finding cheap and reliable high speed internet. No, I spent two hours on that yesterday, and that’s still not the worst.

It’s not signing on to an electric company that literally pledges on their home page to fight EPA regulations.

It’s not finding a good co-op or farmer’s market.

We used shipping containers, so I don’t have to drive a truck to Columbus.

The part of moving that I really, really dislike is finding a new church.

It’s like crashing a party you haven’t been invited to. Sometimes you’ve dressed up when everyone else got the text about wearing flip flops and shorts. Sometimes you stick out like a red shirted communist at a Tea Party rally in your liberal Birkenstocks that cower before smartly polished leather shoes.

I’ve been on both sides of this. It’s natural to expect that a group of people will create a certain culture and group identity when they gather together. I think it’s natural to have a hard time breaking into such groups.

I still don’t like it.

However, the pay off is excellent. We visited exactly one church during our time in Connecticut, and after enduring two pretty horrible Sundays, we started meeting people, joined a small group, and developed some great friendships. As we grew in our church, I watched a bunch of people step forward to reach out to visitors. That gave me a lot of hope.

The hard part about visiting a church is that it forces you to consider what really matters most to you and what you’re willing to give up in order to be in a healthy community. One couple visited our church in Connecticut, and they left because we let women teach and don’t give an altar call each Sunday.

I scoffed at his closed-mindedness, but then I thought about our upcoming church hunt.

I really want to belong to a community that values the leadership and wisdom of women as God-intended equal partners with men.

I really don’t want to belong to a community that ends each service with drizzles of piano and an impassioned plea to flee the fires of hell and commit yourself to the Lord right this very moment because you are in danger of the fires of hell if you die tonight, yes, this very night… friend.

Hooray for Christian unity.

I’m both trusting God and nervous about this, which means I need to work on trusting God a bit more in this area.

All of this brings up questions for me about how the body of Christ works, where we draw our lines for unity, and the role of personalities and culture in our worship. I appreciate the diversity of traditions because in some ways they represent different ways of connecting with God. Simple church, contemporary music church, traditional church, and liturgical church all have their places.

Where will we end up? That is a question that I both want to avoid and desperately hope to answer.

Perhaps I’ve watched a little too much Dr. Who, but I thought I’d close out my posts this week on Christian unity by reaching out with a letter to the most difficult, judgmental Christian I know: myself from 15 years ago.

Dear Ed,

How’s it going? I’m writing you today because I think we have a lot in common, and I thought that perhaps I could offer you a few words of encouragement and wisdom to help you out.

I know you think you’re a pretty devout guy, and I will say that you have some good things going for you. However, I’m also a little concerned about some patterns that you’ve established, and I think you’ll have a much better time in life if you deal with them.

There’s no easy way to say this, but you see, you’re a bit up-tight and judgmental. No, you’re not as bad as the people who judge others for going to a movie theater or for having long hair, but still, you have a pretty narrow definition of Christianity and discipleship.

You’re always comparing yourselves to others, ranking the super-Christians above you and the backsliders below you. You don’t realize that there are guys you’ve placed in the backslider category who will one day become missionaries. Trust me, you won’t see it coming. But then, that’s the point. You don’t know what’s in the heart of the people around you, so stop trying to pick apart their theology or judge them based on what they did or didn’t do. Knowing what I know about you, there’s some plank extraction that needs to happen in your own life.

And then there’s this business with the Catholics. I know the Catholic church burned you. I know there were priests who told you the Bible was dangerous and who used intimidation and manipulation to press their views on you. However, they’re part of a much larger church that has many faithful followers of Jesus. Even one of your college roommates will one day convert to Catholicism and end up working in a classified position for the government—you’re on a need to know basis about the details, and you don’t need to know.

There are certain things I know you’re suspicious about, and though you don’t think you could be right, you actually are. Take evangelism for instance. In your heart you know that you shouldn’t befriend people with ulterior motives or treat the Gospel like a presentation.

You don’t think that fear of damnation in hell is a good reason to share the Gospel because the message of the Gospel is ultimately Good News, and you want to share it naturally out of the good things that God has done in your life. You’ve gotten a taste of this, and you’re willing to keep searching for answers. Keep seeking, because finding those answers will change your life.

You’re also taking time to pray because you want to meet God in a deep way. It’s going to be a long, frustrating haul, but hang in there. You will find more of God and his Holy Spirit some day. Though you have a lot of doubts about the Holy Spirit right now and you’d probably call me off base if I told you everything I have experienced and subsequently believe, patiently wait for God and you will see his salvation manifested in your daily life in new ways.

There are a lot of surprises waiting for you. You’ll find out that the church will let you down, that secular music isn’t evil, and that women really can teach men. Your worries over the rapture and evolution will pass away, and you’ll end up in a career that you won’t see coming but you should have seen all along.

And one more thing. I know it’s going to take a lot of faith to believe this, but trust me, I would never be so cruel as to dash your hopes with something like this… The Phillies will win the World Series before your 30th birthday. Perhaps that leaves you suspicious of my credibility, but it really will happen.

I wish I could say that same for the Flyers, but as of 2011, no dice.

Blessings,

Ed

For more posts on Christian unity, drop by the blog of Rachel Held Evans for the latest round up and don’t forget that part of the goal for the Restore Unity Rally is to provide clean drinking water for people who don’t have it.

I learned one important lesson about Christian unity from sailing and snow camping. Obviously, both were two very different occasions.

Sailing and snow camping are two activities that I do not enjoy.

Stick me in a kayak to bob around, and I’ll be happy. Strap some skis to my feet, and I’ll glide along for miles provided there’s a promise of hot tea and chocolate in my backpack. However, once you introduce the variables of gusting winds or freezing temperatures, there’s something that doesn’t quite click for me about sailing and snow camping.

Perhaps it doesn’t help that I was raised in the flat, warm climate of Philadelphia, never setting foot on a sailboat until I started dating my wife. You see, my wife’s family is totally into sailing, and my wife enjoys snow camping with her brothers—snowshoeing into the woods with a tent and sleeping bags strapped onto their backs.

They are rugged New Englanders.

I don’t join them. And unless someone from my wife’s family leaves an unexpected comment on this post, I’m still recognized as part of the family. Our unity as a family is based on something deeper, mysterious, and spiritual than shared activities or our agreements.

Almost nine years ago Julie and I were married, and that is the foundation that everything else flows from. While I still need to work on our marriage and maintain our unity, there is a lot of room for us to disagree on things like putting yourself at the mercy of high winds or making her watch the NHL playoffs with me.

While I don’t think life gets much better than the NHL playoffs (I mean, did you see the Caps/Lightning game last night?), Christian unity is pretty awesome. Here are a few thoughts about unity for the Rally to Restore Unity hosted by Rachel Held Evans this week:

We Don’t Have to Do Everything Together

Christians don’t have to read all of the same books and blogs. We don’t have to listen to the same preachers, sign the same statements, or go to the same conferences. We don’t have to swim in the same streams of tradition. Our unity is not based on doing all of the same things together.

We all have been given something from God. Some have moved from Catholicism to evangelicalism, while others have done the opposite. While there should be a family resemblance and some common points of unity in the work of the Spirit among us, there’s nothing wrong with Christians from different perspectives working parallel to one another.

Personal Unity Means More Than Unity on Paper

I’ve studied quite a bit of theology, and I’m less and less impressed these days with common doctrinal statements about what makes someone an evangelical, or whatever. I think truly useful unity is what we experience with the people we actually know, not what we can write up, post online, and then leave a comment on.

Commenting online is an inferior form of unity.

When I get together with my Reformed or Catholic friends and pray with them, I’m experiencing real unity that is far more powerful and meaningful than anything online or on paper. For people who serve an incarnate God, meaningful unity is also incarnate.

Whether or not someone signs a document doesn’t do much for unity. When we can pray for one another, share the Gospel with a  united front, and encourage one another to draw near to Jesus, we are practicing true Christian unity that trumps statements made by national leaders or people who seem important.

Unity Requires Faith

I don’t know why there are so many different branches of Christianity or why God shows up to certain people in certain ways, but that’s what requires faith. I was chatting one day with a guy who used to be Arminian who felt that the Bible finally made sense from the Reformed perspective of Calvinism.

I had the exact opposite experience.

We both need faith to trust that God is working in each us, revealing himself in ways that communicate with each person. There is a huge uncertainty gap, and perhaps we may sometimes find it unsettling that our theological views didn’t work for someone else. All I can say is that I trust where God has led me, and I trust that God will lead others as they require.

Unity Commits to a Larger Shared Purpose

What I like about the Rally to Restore Unity is that we’re not just sitting around trying to agree on “how” to be united. We’re stepping back from our bickering with a bit of humor and committing to raise $5,000 that will fund clean water for a community. Everyone needs water and God wants no one to die from a lack of clean water, and I think we can all agree on that.

Let’s all chip in to make this Kingdom work happen!

Make sure you swing by Rachel’s blog today for links to other posts and some hilarious pictures. Also check out the Twitter hashtag: #restoreunity.

I have a secret weapon. You may have this secret weapon too, without even knowing you had it all along. This secret weapon may prove extremely useful in considering how to approach disagreements and conflict with fellow Christians—especially if we think of Christianity as a family.

Over the years I’ve had several relationships with close relatives go south. For a season, I needed to avoid them. There’s no other way to say it. When a relationship becomes destructive and you see it tearing you apart, retreat is sometimes the only option.

A few years after the initial retreat, these conflicts were eventually sorted out. One side confessed to the other and we began the healing process.

If I hadn’t withdrawn at the height of the conflict, I’m not sure if the reconciliation process could have happened. It at least would have taken longer.

My secret weapon is this lesson: There are times in life when we have to give up on unity and ignore criticism. Sometimes relationships become toxic, and the only solution is to withdraw—hopefully only for a season.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve seen lots of Christian treat each other pretty awful lately. Perhaps it’s time to wave the white flag.

Withdrawing from a relationship for a season is not the same as giving up. We should still pray for healing and avoid burning bridges. The goal of a withdrawal is to cut off the toxic dynamics and to give both sides a chance to process their differences. Oftentimes a period away from conflict builds up sufficient hindsight that enables us to see another person’s perspective with clarity.

There are times in the New Testament when Christians parted ways over a particular issue or calling. While recognizing that each was still a follower of Jesus, they could no longer function together in a healthy way. They recognized their unity in Christ, even though they parted ways on other issues.

I’m not surprised to read that Peter and Paul, and Barnabas and Paul were reconciled to one another after a relational hiatus. They needed time to simmer down.

Thankfully, the vast majority of Christians out there know how to treat one another with love and respect. This is not an excuse to become lazy and to give up on everyone who disagrees with us. Rather, I’m talking about the toxic, angry, judgmental junk—the people who get our blood pressure pumping.

This week I want to discuss our divisions and conflicts in the Christian family, especially my own evangelical camp, and consider the possibility of orderly withdrawals from our most toxic fights with the hope of long term healing and restoration.

Tomorrow’s Post: When Should Christians Part Ways?

Have you ever noticed that Christians sometimes disagree? You have? Oh, man, what a shocker, right?

A recent kerfuffle amongst Christians, the chosen vs. the choosers you could say if you wanted to be imprecise, has me thinking about our priorities, the impact of our disagreements, and some ways we can take positive steps forward. In fact, for all of the hand-wringing and such, I’m a bit hopeful.

Why?

Defining the Situation

We need to get a brief handle on a few guidelines here for disagreements. There are disagreements among Christians over beliefs of different traditions and there are times when Christians disagree because one side is a heretic.

Our greatest mistake seems to be making a disagreement over beliefs within the faith into a heresy smack-down, with one side playing the part of the inquisition, turning Lewis’ great house of Christianity into a studio apartment—an apartment that John Calvin has crammed with his stuff in this particular case. I’ve also seen studio apartments for Catholics, Baptists, Arminians, etc. We all do this from time to time.

We have a pastor and blogger who disagree in this case. Is this a disagreement over universalism or different conceptions of hell and salvation that send us out of the Reformed library and into a drawing room of another denomination? We probably don’t know enough to say anything for sure at this point.

However, here are a few thoughts on how to handle our disagreements with one another regardless of whether this pastor is a universalist.

Our Loyalty

Christians are loyal to a person and our beliefs (or doctrines) help us understand that person. The emphasis is essential here. We are loyal to a relational deity who wants us to love and obey him.

If we get the love and obey part, we’ll figure out that God wants us to relate to one another with the same charity, seeking out the best for others. We hold to our beliefs because they are important, but we don’t defend our beliefs as a matter of first importance.

The response of the blogger to the pastor here smells of prioritizing beliefs over the person. Was an accusatory blog post the best way to restore the pastor if he really was in error? I don’t know the blogger’s motives, but if he really thought a fellow brother was in error, the Bible tells us how to proceed. His actions match those of someone far more concerned with defending a doctrine than restoring an individual—that is, if that pastor needs to be restored from something.

Hint: A combative blog post that generates lots of traffic and comments wouldn’t leave me feeling, “Wow, that guy really wants me to be restored from my heresy! How nice of him. Look at all of the traffic his criticism of my beliefs generated. I guess I should agree with him.” Just saying.

The Significance

If we are loyal to our beliefs ahead of our relationship with God, we may view other Christian perspectives as threats. If we encounter a view that borders on heresy, we risk making things worse because we’re seeking to protect doctrines instead of people.

We aren’t here to defend the Gospel.

We’re here to let God change how we live and speak through the Gospel.

The Gospel is here to lead us to God and we need to live it with clarity and truth. However, if someone steps away from a faithful, biblical proclamation of the Gospel, we should be rushing to help the person, not to attack his/her beliefs.

The Goal: Restoration, not Isolation

When we disagree and fear that a fellow Christian may be teaching false doctrines, I think there are two possible ways forward. On the one hand, we should certainly engage the beliefs of that person and discuss them fairly with all of the information. I have no qualms with someone fairly critiquing my take on Jesus if I have made an error.

However, I would also hope that no one would attack me personally right off the bat, isolating me from the body of Christ. You see, we can isolate others, creating chasms where we say, “Our side has the truth, your side has the error. Come over to our side if you want to be a true Christian.”

A public attack like this only pushes us further away from one another. If someone really is in error, then attacking the person may only tempt him/her to dig in and fight back.

Isolation does not lead to restoration.

There may be times that we’ll have to isolate someone, but that is only a last resort, not an opening salvo. We begin with an appeal out of love for the other person, and only cut that person off if there is no other resort.

Defending a doctrine ahead of a person saves us from all of the trouble that love requires.

Does the Response Make Things Worse?

I’m actually more concerned about how we respond to this kerfuffle, than I am that we had a kerfuffle in the first place. I have a lot of reformed friends, and I know a lot of folks who are probably suspicious of this pastor.

Hey, his videos drive me nuts. I don’t agree with all that he teaches—that is, if I can get a handle on anything in his videos. I’m usually sitting there thinking to myself, “Common observation, touching story, emotional projection, probing question, suggestive answer. Common observation, touching story, emotional projection, probing question, probing question, suggestive answer.”

There clearly are more effective ways to be a heretic in my opinion, but I digress…

If this pastor really is a universalist, then I’d certainly think a minor kerfuffle is warranted—as in, someone should reach out to him personally out of love. However, I don’t want us to create divisions where they are unnecessary.

The first shots have been fired, but we don’t need to fire back. We also don’t need to wring our hands too much. There are lots of Christians who are rolling their eyes right now. The trick is to avoid attacking back. We’ll only make things worse.

The body of Christ can drown in its own self-righteousness just as well as it can in its squabbles. We can be combative in how we point out the combativeness of others.

What I Can’t Say

I almost tweeted something like this today: Fictional story: Christians charitable when disagreeing over what only God knows.

I couldn’t do it.

I knew it wasn’t true, and that made my day.

I know quite a few Christians who are very humble and kind, even when we disagree.

I have hundreds of Christian friends who are open-minded, who would hear someone out before reacting, and who would charitably work toward restoration of someone in error. Many of these friends dig Reformed theology.

Charitable Christians are not fictional. We are legion. We just don’t attract the same attention because we aren’t lightning rods for negativity and controversy that drive human interest stories on blogs and news sites. 

Rather than lament that a pastor asked some vague questions and a blogger made some harsh critiques before reading the whole story, let’s celebrate the fact that such an approach is not acceptable to many believers. There are folks who disagree with the pastor and/or the blogger, and these folks are praying for God’s best for them—praying that we are all restored to unity in Spirit and in truth.

Yesterday’s post brought up a lot of great discussion in the comment section that serves God’s Kingdom and Christian unity. I’m about to wrap up a series of posts from the book of Romans, and it’s apparent in that book that in bringing salvation to all through Christ, God was also reconciling two races or people groups: Jews and Gentiles.

When we create divisions or cause offense along lines of racial or gender differences, we are in essence undoing part of Christ’s work. And if anything, this incident shows that white American male Christians are very capable of offending those of another race without it being intentional or obvious. I think the same goes for the way white American male Christians treat women sometimes.

The undetected, unintentional nature of this is enough to keep me up at night.

Let’s be honest, there will be offenses made in the future. There may be some women or ethnic minorities who are smarting right now who perhaps don’t feel comfortable bringing up their grievances because they fear they’ll be met with further insults to stop whining, criticism that they’ve chosen the wrong path to conflict resolution, or that they’re simply misrepresenting those who offended them.

We saw it in the Deadly Viper scenario, and it can and will happen again. From where I sit, I think our next step is to create dialogue channels, safe places for folks to go, and catalysts for reconciliation. We need folks in either the majority or in the minority who will commit to help others reach reconciliation with their offenders and to help offenders reach the point of repentance and forgiveness.

Catalyst is a flashy word, but I don’t believe this is flashy work. This is hard, costly work, but I think I myself and others need to commit to doing this. This means working hard toward justice in the body of Christ, while committing to listen, to hold back on judgment, and to approach others in love.

If you feel that a part of the body of Christ is offending you, I’ll do what I can to hear you out, to help you take steps forward, and to even confront someone in love with you or on your behalf. Even if our reaching out crashes and burns, at least we’re not failing alone. I have no idea where this will take us, but I encourage you today to think of how you can become a catalyst for reconciliation, how you can right your wrongs, or how you can approach those who have wronged you.

We can do this because Christ is working for this within us. We are moving in step with his Spirit in his Kingdom purpose.

I’ve been following a controversy over a racially insensitive video, poster, and book cover put together by two white Christian men. The gist of the controversy is that the book’s art work and video content both exploit Asian culture and promote demeaning stereotypes.

Two Asian American leaders (Cho and Rah) asked for apologies. Edward Gilbreath also offers clarity and empathy. At first one of the makers of the book and video didn’t seem all that willing to hear out Professor Rah. Thankfully they later wrote an apology note and apparently a phone conversation took place at some point on November 4th between the concerned parties.

Things seem under control, but I wanted to share a few thoughts based on how we can use this situation to clarify our beliefs, correct misconceptions, and to make our communities stronger when dealing with racial insensitivity (not necessarily “racism” in every case).

It’s never comfortable to find out that you’ve offended someone, especially when it has to do with race, and ESPECIALLY when that offense is created by something as permanent as a book in print. I can see how one may initially become defensive. However, the only position for white Christians on this issue is to open ourselves up to critique, to admit we’ve been wrong when necessary, and to confess that even in our attempts to make things right we may make things worse. In fact, I fear that even in writing this post I may have some large elephants in my own room…

Case in point: I initially wrote at the start of this post that Asian Americans found the video and book cover offensive. That was partially true, but I missed the point right off the bat that all Christians should be offended when one part of the body of Christ feels wounded. So even in dealing with these matters, I can see I have a long way to go.

As I examine my own heart and what I’ve seen online over the past few days, here are a few of my observations about white Christians and matters of racial sensitivity:

• We don’t want to think of ourselves as racists.
• We generally aren’t openly or overtly racist. It’s far more subtle than we expect, taking the form of jokes, etc.
• When we mean well, it’s hard to admit we hurt feelings.
• Those in the majority should never ask victims of injustice to turn the other cheek.
• We don’t realize that racial insensitivity demeans the offender while also demeaning the offended.
• It’s embarrassing to be wrong and to admit failure publicly.
• It’s difficult and painful to right wrongs.
• Those in the ethnic majority have a non-binding vote on what’s offensive. The minority gets the binding vote.

If I was one of the guys who designed that book and video, I’d be feeling crushed right now. So crushed, that I probably would have a hard time understanding how it feels to be a mocked ethnic minority. If I learned that a book I’d invested significant time and resources into offended a significant part of the population with its central motif, I’d probably have a hard time entering into a dialogue about it at first. However, if I was an ethnic minority, I’d probably have a hard time sleeping until the matter was resolved.

I’m more concerned about the way we resolve future matters of racial insensitivity than in examining the minutiae of this current case. This convinces me that white Christian leaders, writers, and whoever else can start by doing a few things:

• Seek the counsel of diverse perspectives that will surprise, challenge, and even unsettle us. In writing Coffeehouse Theology I sought out readers from a variety of backgrounds, regions, and denominations who made it a better book. I am continually surprised by my own limitations and need for Christians who see the world differently.
• Ask those in the minority to identify the problem and to suggest a solution. That’s something one of the men involved in this did that I think is worth emulating: he asked Professor Rah to outline a way to make things right.
• Make “listening” our first response to critiques of racial insensitivity. Some white Christians whined about the way Asian Christians handled this is, and it borders on Pharisaic legalism that strains a gnat and swallows a camel. Saying that a critique of racial insensitivity fails to follow proper confrontational protocol and is therefore somehow invalid borders on the absurd. I think our critiques of one another have mixed results at times, but when someone says, “You’ve hurt me!” We need to listen, rather than picking apart exactly how they did it. We can discuss the details of “critique protocol” down the line, but in the grand scheme of things, racial injustice and insensitivity are far more destructive for Christian community than a blog post that strikes some as angry or critical. Of course he sounds angry and critical! He’s been deeply wounded! Failure to listen only creates a frustrating spiral of accusation and counter accusation that does no good for the body. The least those in the majority can do is listen.
• Insensitivity Can Crop up Elsewhere. The other elephant in the room here is the way Christians treat women, to say nothing of Asian women (which is something I’m only mentioning in passing because I don’t have the chops to address that one). If you now have some insight into the ways we can be offensive and patronizing toward Asians, then I don’t think it’s too far a  stretch to apply these lessons to the ways that women are stereotyped, patronized, and mistreated in the Christian camp, especially by white males in leadership. The conversations we’re having here with our Asian brothers and sisters in Christ also need to happen with our sisters in Christ.

That’s all I’ve got for now. I’ve already written more than I ever intended. I hope we can prayerfully move forward in our dialogue with one another. If I’ve made some glaring errors in this post, I’ll begin my apology now and end it after you e-mail me at edcyzewski (a) gmail (dot) com.

However, whatever this post’s inadequacies, I hope it’s a useful stone in the road toward reconciliation.