Roe v. Wade gone. Why I hesitate to cheer.

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The greatest evil. A stain on our nation. A reason for the decline of America. When I was growing up, this was how abortion were described to me. When it came to politics, I unblinkingly supported Republican "pro-life" candidates and could not fathom how anyone who called themselves a Christian could possibly vote for any Democrat who supported abortion rights. But more than anything, I and those around me longed for the day when Roe v. Wade would be overturned. It always seemed like a pipe dream, but it was a cause worth fighting for. If only this heinous court case could be thrown out, abortion could be illegal again and millions of babies could be saved.

And so, today, as the dream has become reality with the Supreme Court overturning Roe v. Wade, my younger self would be rejoicing.

But, I am not so young anymore.

Yes, I am still pro-life, but lived experience and complexity of our world means I have mixed feelings about this day, and even a bit of anxiety.

For starters, let's keep in mind what this legal decision does not do--make abortion disappear. Abortions happened before Roe and they will continue after today. You can't legislate your way out of a challenge like abortion. In fact, the actual impact of the Court's decision today may be fairly minimal. Contrary to the belief of some who celebrate today, the overturning of Roe v. Wade does not make abortion illegal in the United States. Instead, it pushes the decision on abortion back to the states. So, while conservative states will outlaw abortion, moderate and progressive states will largely keep abortion rights intact and may even choose to expand those rights. The fact is, many conservative states have already enacted strict abortion laws and have seen numbers plummet over the past decade as those laws have limited who can get an abortion and have shut down countless abortion clinics. Rather than ending abortion in places where they are happening unchecked, this legal decision only ends abortion in the places where they were already becoming rare.

If this legal decision miraculously made abortion nonexistent in the U.S. then it would be easier for me to rejoice. But, that will not be the reality. Yes, even a small decrease in abortion numbers would be good, but we also have to ask about the cost.

Second, it's hard for me to rejoice because of how we got here. It's no secret that evangelical Christianity has been a primary driver in the fight against abortion for the past three decades. And, I think this is rightfully so as the Christian faith clearly declares that all humans are made in the image of God and science has increasingly shown there is little division between a "fetus" and a human being. It's hard for anyone who has seen a 3D ultrasound and listened to the heartbeat of a child a mere few weeks old to deny that it is a human life.

However, in our efforts to reduce abortions, white evangelical Christians have sold their souls to political devils without concern for the consequences when it comes to pursuing anti-abortion legislation. The rise of Donald Trump and Trumpian politics in Christian circles is a perfect example of this. Despite the countless moral and character failings of politicians like Trump, many Christians were content to jump on board for the sake of a legal blow against abortion. As one friend of mine who voted for Trump put it, "It's all about the Supreme Court."

Even beyond Trump, Christians backed Republicans as they made increasingly questionable moves to secure a "judicially activist" court of their own making. From stonewalling a qualified court nominee for months on end during Obama's final term, to sticking with a nominee with concerning sexual assault allegations against him, to rushing through their own nominee in the final hours before an election and contradicting their own previous arguments, Republicans seemed willing to do whatever it cost to secure a court majority willing to pursue their own agenda.

Of course, these behaviors are not unique to Republicans (one could look at Democratic efforts to pack the court with more justices), but the underlying point is the rule of modern politics is that the ends justify the means. It doesn't matter what you say, who you back, or how dirty and bloody your hands get, as long as the end results turns out in your favor. With Trump, we were willing to excuse vulgar language, fear-mongering, sexual immorality, lack of self-control, questionable policy, xenophobia, racist language, and more, all for the sake of ending abortion. While there's little hope for that attitude to change in politics, Christians ought to follow a higher standard. For Christians, we leave the ends in God's hands and ensure that the means are Christ-like, humble, and point to the Kingdom of God (read the Sermon on the Mount if you need a reminder of this).

As I've said before, the strange alliance between white evangelical Christians and Trumpian politics has eroded trust in Christians and the witness of the Church almost more than anything else in recent history. I have friends whose children are questioning their faith because of the behaviors they see from "Christians" in the political arena. So, on a day like today, it's hard to get excited about the babies that might be saved when there certainly are a whole lot of bodies in our wake that we made on the way to get here. To cheer today after so much ugliness and un-Christlike behavior is like rewarding bas behavior. It's like telling a child "good job" for helping clear the table when he pushed all his siblings down and yelled at them to do so.

We can also turn this concern to the future. Now that Roe has been overturned, what is the next target our political lords will point us Christians at? The only thing that's certain is that there will be another target. Much of this fight was not just about abortion, but also about power. Republicans can count on evangelicals to vote for them as long as the support the fight to end abortion. Now that the dream of overturning Roe has been realized, they will need something else to energize us. After all, we're already hearing about how the Left will be motivated to vote during the midterms because of this massive defeat. Republicans will need a counter issue. Will the topic be same-sex marriage? Critical Race Theory and civil rights? Immigration? Whatever it will be, there will always be some political interest to pull our strings and corrupt our Christian witness with "necessary" ethical and moral sacrifices for "the cause."

The problem with not caring about the means on the way to our goals is that there are always unintended consequences. What will those unintended consequences be here? 

One potential consequence is the legal ramifications of this decision in other areas. In making its decision on Roe, the Court's majority pointed to the lack of a "Constitutional" protection for abortion. Without getting into a deep philosophical legal discussion about the best interpretations of the Constitution, it should be noted that an "originalist" reading of the Constitution has its limitations because there are many things generally accepted today that are not mentioned in the Constitution. Just because something is or isn't in the Constitution doesn't make it morally acceptable (after all, the Constitution in its most "original" form allowed slavery).

For example, interracial marriage is not directly addressed in the Constitution. Neither is access to birth control by married couples. Yet, the freedom to choose both of these things has been enacted and protected by the court in the past. Does the decision concerning Roe v. Wade today open up the door to reverse countless decisions like this because they are not "constitutional"? Could a whole host of decisions be turned back to the states? If so, this could easily open up the door to many discriminatory practices returning in society. And in case you think this is far-fetched, consider that Justice Clarence Thomas has already hinted that these types of decisions could be on the table in the future in the aftermath of today's decision. Could our enthusiasm to end abortion open up other pitfalls for us and our neighbors?

This leads to a third concern over today--will Christians step up? Growing up, abortion was often presented as a sick practice sought by women and parents who didn't want their babies. Or, in cases where parents wanted to keep their babies, it was doctors who malevolently suggested abortion in difficult circumstances of malformations and disease. Feminists were also to blame because they placed working life above family life.

However, as I've grown older and listened to countless stories (and even faced an unplanned pregnancy myself), I've come to realize that the situation is more complex. Yes, there are women who simply don't want their babies for selfish reasons, but there's usually much more to it than that. Many women who seek abortions already have children, but might be in situations where they really would struggle to care for another child. Indeed, studies have shown that existing children whose mother is denied an abortion for a new child are more likely to experience developmental delays and poverty. Other women have been raped and either are not ready to have a child, fear the child will remind them of the rape, or live in a state that will give the rapist parental rights and continued access to the victim. 

Then, many others face the impossible choice of wanting a baby, but the baby develops a health condition which makes viability of the child nearly impossible. In these situations, we must remember that, despite our amazing advances in medicine, childbirth is still a risky process for the mother. Indeed, one friend of ours nearly died during the birth of her first child with an otherwise healthy pregnancy. In situations where giving birth becomes even riskier for the mother, how do you easily choose between your life and the life of a baby who will likely die even if everything else goes well? It's a difficult decision, and every couple and woman is different in how they will handle it. Some will accept the risk to their own life and pray their child also lives or will do so to hold their child for its few minutes of life. Others will look at the probabilities and not want to chance it. These are incredibly painful and difficult personal choices that are hard to legislate or create one-size-fits-all solutions for.

With all this complexity, though, one theme is consistent: tragedy. The hidden truth few want to acknowledge (because it doesn't fit our political mantras) is that no one really wants abortions to have to happen. An abortion always signals a tragedy or disappointment of some kind. No one is intentionally getting pregnant just so they can get an abortion (which is why comparing abortion to "murder" is problematic). Even someone pursuing abortion for selfish reasons to preserve their career is not particularly happy about having to actually get an abortion. An abortion represents a miscarriage, health problems, poverty, teen pregnancy, rape, career and family plans upended. There's always pain and disappointment in the background. Even for those who have no problem with an abortion and will get one without a second thought, the actual abortion is still likely an inconvenience they'd rather not have.

So, I return to my question--will Christians step up? We claim to be "pro-life," but will we step up and support the women and families of those we are now forbidding from getting an abortion? Now that Roe is overturned, will churches begin emphasizing adoption and foster care as a pressing concern for its members in the same way it emphasized voting against abortion? Will we be there to take the child as an alternative to abortion when a women cannot care for that child?

Will we aggressively seek to alleviate poverty and racial discrimination that create situations of disparity in society? If these forces drive people to seek abortions, let us walk alongside people to give them options besides abortion.

Will the church stand firmly against rape, sexual assault, and sexual harassment, or will we continue to ignore these very issues among our own clergy and congregations, permitting the very culture that is one cause of abortion?

Will we advocate for better and more accessible medical care for everyone so that those facing impossible choices also have the best doctors and treatments at their disposal? Or will we be content with millions of uninsured women and turn a blind eye to their plight?

And perhaps toughest of all, are we ready to stand with families who have lost a mother to a pregnancy gone wrong that an abortion could have prevented? Are we ready to explain to the surviving children that their mother's life is a small sacrifice for saving thousands of other children like them?

While I'd love to believe that the church will step up in the coming years and truly be "pro-life" for the lives of those who will be affected by today's decision, truth be told, I'm not holding my breath. Certainly, there are many Christians who volunteer or work at crisis-pregnancy centers, foster and adopt, or offer individual support to neighbors who are contemplating abortion. But I've also seen too often over the past years how the church has ignored offering these types of support and has marched on single-mindedly against legal abortion and LGBTQ rights. Rather than stepping up to actually make abortion unthinkable, I fear many Christians will be content with the legal win and will move on to the next legal battle (like overturning Obergefell v. Hodges).

All this may sound like I am pro-Roe or pro-abortion, but that is not necessarily true. Incidentally, today is my middle daughter's birthday. On a day we celebrate her birth, I do recognize that today's decision will result in some lives being saved and born. Some children will have the chance to live just like my daughter. That is a good thing.

However, the question remains--what kind of life will they live? Will it do any good to bring them into this world if they live a miserable life? Will it do any good for the church if our actions continue to alienate that child whose life we "saved"? Just as importantly, what harm are we doing to women when all we care about is a legal restriction and ignore complexities? I would love to see abortion rates drop. I don't think a child should be killed simply because their father is a rapist. I believe that a poor woman can have options besides abortion. However, I also know that withholding abortion in these situations without also giving support to the women affected or ignoring their concerns and wishes is to be complicit in their suffering.

At the end of the day, I'm hopeful that some good may come of this, but also fearful that unintended damage will also follow. My emotions are complex, much like the issue of abortion itself. But, at the end of the day, I will simply commit myself to the same task I had before today--loving my neighbor as myself. I will open up my home to foster children. I will work to fight poverty in my community. I will pray for those who are pregnant. I will speak out against laws that create unnecessary hardships for those in my community. I do these things because, at the end of the day, it's not good enough to be anti-abortion, I must be pro-life. I do these things because I am not called to merely care about the ends, but to ensure my means speak witness to the risen Christ and not merely a lust for political power.

Homo Narrans

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We are storytelling creatures. Think about it. In our everyday lives, nearly all of our conversations are structured as stories.

“Honey, how was your day?” “It was exhausting. First I had to respond to an email from an angry customer. Then, Johnny stopped by the office and wouldn’t stop talking. Finally, after skipping my lunch…”

Or, “You’ll never believe what just happened to me! I was driving down Springfield Ave when I saw the craziest thing out in someone’s yard!”

Take just about any conversation and you can find an element of storytelling. Communications theorist Walter Fisher coined the term Homo narrans (“storytelling human”) to describe this phenomenon. Fisher argued that it was our ability to tell stories, rather than our ability to use language or logic, that set humans apart from every other creature in the world.

Indeed, we certainly love stories. Not only are our conversations filled with narrative storylines, but we have made novels, tv shows, and motion pictures into multi-billion dollar industries. Even our Scriptures are primarily narratives rather than theological essays. Stories are powerful forces that can transform our thinking, inspire us to be better, and open up our imaginations.

However, any powerful tool can also be misused. The political and societal polarization we are facing in this country today is, ironically, also a product of storytelling. When groups of people create narratives while being isolated from those who are different from them, those narratives grow and form an echo chamber that reinforces our existing biases. Pretty soon, those stories change into myths we believe about outsiders that have little resemblance to reality.

In contrast, the primary pathway to empathy and human understanding is through hearing the stories of others. I suspect if we spent less time sharing memes on social media and more time sitting down with people we disagree with to listen to their experiences and testimonies, we would find ourselves becoming less angry and more humble. It is easy to dismiss words on a screen, but it is harder to dismiss a story when told by a human face.

As an example, the primary moment that changed my perspectives about racism was not a book or logical argument, but was a meal during a seminary retreat. During that meal, I listened to several of my black classmates recount their own personal stories of discrimination, some as recent as the day we left for the retreat. No longer was this an academic or political debate because now the issue had faces and names. I gained new understanding that day.

With that in mind, let’s get sharing. What's your story?

Praying for the President

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As news broke that the President has COVID, I began seeing some conservative friends post about the need to "pray" for his speedy recovery and condemning liberals who are supposedly wishing for Trump's death. I agree we should pray for the President, but how to pray is a deeper issue. 

First, I am sure that a lot of these posts about liberals wanting Trump to die are somewhat driven by bots and algorithms because I have yet to see any of my liberal or progressive friends on social media say these things. They may critique the President's lack of precautions or see this result as a natural consequence of his actions, but I have not seen the wishes or prayers for him to die as these memes and posts would make us believe are widespread. Are there people who are hoping Trump dies? I'm sure. The comments sections anywhere on the internet are filled with both conservatives and liberals who make similar wishes of their opponents; this is not unique to a political side. For example, comments sections regarding Chrissy Teigens' miscarriage will show you conservatives and pro-lifers rejoicing in her suffering under claims of "God's judgment" and that "she deserved it." Desiring suffering and death for our enemies is a human condition, not a political one. My fear is that creating a straw man with posts that presume a majority of liberals want Trump to die from COVID is not helpful to our public discourse, when in reality many (perhaps most, including Biden) are wishing and even praying for a recovery. Bad apples are out there, but let's not create a boogeyman. 

However, when I first saw Trump supporters and evangelicals advocating for others to "pray for the President's quick recovery," there was something inside of me that initially recoiled. I've had the same reaction over the past few years whenever I see politically charged memes calling on Christians to "pray for the President" in various capacities. It's taken me a day or two to sort out why. 

After thinking about it, the reason for my apprehension was not because I believe we shouldn't pray for our President, but rather because the surrounding context makes such calls seem (even if unintentional) simplistic and shallow. 

What I mean is that, while I've seen both conservatives and liberals offer their prayers for a recovery, the strongest calls for prayers for the President's health have come from many of the same people who have consistently backed Trump and refused to criticize him or hold him accountable. Often these are the same people who feel it is their duty to frequently remind their political opponents (using 1 Timothy 2) that they should be praying for the President's success. At the same time, there was often silence about offering the same kinds of prayers for Obama, or at least with much less enthusiasm. 

This is the crucial context. When some Christians give enthusiastic support on a regular basis to a President the majority of Americans see as immoral, corrupt, and cruel, praise him as the "greatest President ever," and fail to EVER offer critiques, people begin to question the morality of your faith. As I've said before, I believe this uncritical and enthusiastic support for Trump from many evangelicals is driving the final nails into the coffin of the church's moral authority and integrity in the eyes of outsiders (and of many insiders). In that context, your calls to pray for Trump ring hollow and are heard by many as just another partisan ploy. I personally don't doubt the sincerity of my fellow believers, but without a prophetic denouncing of Trump's wrongs or equal calls for prayers for your own enemies, such words fall flat. 

Another reason for my reaction is that such calls to prayer seem simplistic and even a bit condescending. Again, given the context, someone who doesn't care for Trump or has been appalled by him over the past 5 years could easily read these posts as "If you don't pray for Trump to quickly recover and get back to his agenda then you are unChristian!" I know that is not likely the intent, but we also know that a big motivation for Trump supporters in praying for the President's recovery is so Trump's agenda or election chances are not ruined. That's simply not going to be a motivation for Trump critics. 

Indeed, if we oversimplify prayer for our leaders, I also think we do a disservice to Scripture. A holistic look a prayer in Scripture reveals a great diversity. 

At one extreme, you have the imprecatory Psalms--prayers for the downfall and destruction of one's enemies and oppressors. 

Psalm 137 reads "Happy is the one who seizes your infants and dashes them against the rocks." 

Psalm 109 says, "May his days be few; may another take his place of leadership. May his children be fatherless and his wife a widow."

Psalm 10 reads "Break the arm of the wicked and evildoer; call his wickedness to account till you find none." 

Psalm 83 prays that cruel "nobles" and "princes" would be destroyed and "become like dung on the ground." That language doesn't square well with the typical insistence on 1 Tim 2:1-2. 

A concern I have with Trump-voting evangelicals who publicly call on people to pray for Trump's recovery is that they do not consider those who feel harmed and oppressed by this President. I have spoken to and listened to many over the past 4 years who are experiencing heightened fear because of the culture of anger and racism Trump has created against people who look like them. There is little question that the President's flip-flopping on the pandemic, ignoring of scientific advice, and contradiction of his own officials and advisors has likely resulted in several thousand additional deaths that could have been prevented. Others of us are simply disgusted by his lying, cruelty, bullying, and attraction to pride and rage that have real-world consequences. 

The fact is that this President has hurt many people, and many people in this country (including millions of Christians) are longing for the day when he will be out of office. If we take on a healthy view of biblical prayer, then we will not tell people to quickly ignore those feelings of anger and despair, but rather to take them to God. Maybe the first step of healthy prayer for those who oppose the President is being brutally honest with God, even if that honesty, like the imprecatory psalms, admits that they are hoping the virus will claim his life.

 
Likewise, I have spent a lot of time recently reading through both the Psalms and the prophets. The prophets, like in many psalms, call out kings and leaders for idolatry and injustice and warn of consequences for kings who do not heed those calls. For example, in 2 Kings 1, when the wicked King Ahaziah has an accident and lies in his bed dying, he sends messengers to the prophet Elijah to ask God if he'll recover. Elijah's response (multiple times) is "you shall not leave your bed; you will surely die." Elijah offers no prayers for recovery (at least that are reported) because the king has long proven his lack of allegiance to God. 

Similarly, in countless oracles issued by nearly all of the prophets (Isaiah, Jeremiah, Habakkuk, Amos, etc.) oppressive rulers of other nations are promised downfall as a result of their actions. Perhaps the prophets prayed for wisdom for these leaders and peace for their nation first, but after years of consistent injustice and idolatry there was also an understanding in their prayers that God will deal with unrepentant sin. As citizens of God's Kingdom before any other, the US President should get the same treatment and accountability as any other world leader. 

For those of us who do not line up to support the President, we see years of unrepentant sin and idolatry. Just because he throws out phrases and causes that we evangelicals like doesn't mean the man should be emulated or even has our best interests in mind. He has famously bragged about never having repented, and I can't remember a single time in the past 4 years he has issued an apology for any of his countless scandals or sinful words (if I'm wrong I'll apologize for that assumption). 

 
Even though idols of wood and stone may not exist, Trump is no less ruled by idolatry. His idols are pride, wealth, vanity, anger, revenge, and power. He may not have an Asherah pole at his house, but I suspect he's worshipped before a stripper pole before. And these are not all just past faults; many continue daily. Those that are in the past are ones he has never repented of and sees no reason to. Individuals who are more than happy to offer praise and prayer for the President should consider the depth of frustration among the rest of us. Have empathy; put yourself in our shoes. 

Now, if you think I'm going to say after all this that we should pray for Trump's death, you'd be wrong. As I said above, we should come to prayer with an honesty about how we are feeling, and that includes space for those who hope he dies as well. However, for those of us who claim to follow Jesus, we are living on this side of the cross and resurrection. That means we also follow a King (a true "President" if you will) who calls us to "turn the other cheek," put aside anger, "love our enemies," and "pray for those who persecute us." After we've been honest with God and wrestled with our feelings, we should also strive to pray for our opponent's well-being as hard as it may be. 

 
Indeed, the call of Jesus pulls us toward embrace and empathy. This is especially true with COVID. In the past few days I’ve been reminded of the horrors of this disease. Just today, I received a call from a friend whose father was rushed to the hospital in an ambulance because of his oxygen levels due to COVID. I also saw on Facebook today that a community member I knew just passed away from the disease. As I consider the frightening prospect of a diagnosis for families and the pain of loss thousands have already experienced, I lean on these stories to gain empathy for our flawed President whose own family is likely experiencing their own fears and concerns. 

But one final note is also important (Thanks to Chris Dodson for your recent Facebook post that helped me put my thoughts together here). Throughout Scripture there is also a refrain in prayers and songs asking God to "reverse" the world. Kings and oppressive powers should be brought low, and the humble should be raised up. 

You see is in Miriam's and Moses' Song of the Sea (Exo 15): "In the greatness of Your majesty You threw down those who opposed You. You unleashed Your burning anger; it consumed them like stubble....But You will bring your people in and plant them on the mountain of your inheritance." 

You see it in the Beatitudes, especially in Luke's version (Luke 6):
“Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God. Blessed are you who hunger now, for you will be satisfied. Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh....
“But woe to you who are rich, for you have already received your comfort. But Woe to you who are well fed now, for you will go hungry. Woe to you who laugh now, for you will mourn and weep. Woe to you when everyone speaks well of you, for that is how their ancestors treated the false prophets."

You see it in Mary's Magnificat (Luke 1): 

"He has brought down rulers from their thrones but has lifted up the humble. He has filled the hungry with good things but has sent the rich away empty." 

All of these Scriptural pleadings for the mighty to fall are not simply vindictive wishes, but, especially on this side of the cross, they should also carry a hope of justice for the hurting and redemption for the proud and mighty. Like Moses pleading with Pharaoh to soften his heart and avoid destruction, we should hope that the downfall of our own opponents and those who act immorally and unjustly should lead to humility. Adversity and downfall should open their eyes to their complicity in pain and help them see God for the first time. 

Two nights ago I read the story of Manasseh, one of the final evil kings of Judah. He completely reversed the spiritual reforms of his father, Hezekiah, and brought the nation back into idolatry and injustice. And after God spoke to him through prophets calling him to repent, he refused and God allowed the king of Assyria to attack Jerusalem and to capture Manasseh, dragging him away with "hooks" and chains. 

However, there is a part of Manasseh's story I had forgotten about until reading it again. In 2 Chronicles 33:10-16 it details how, while in captivity, Manasseh "humbled himself greatly before the God of his fathers." God then allowed the humbled king to return to Jerusalem, at which point "Manasseh knew that the LORD was God." And it seems to have stuck. In the final years of his reign, Manasseh removed the idols from his house, destroyed false altars, and began offering sacrifices to the true God once again. 

The story of Manasseh illustrates how I think those of us who cannot abide Trump should pray. Yes, we should pray for a recovery because Donald Trump is also made in the image of God, even as marred as that image may be. As such, his life is also precious in God's eyes. However, we also cannot turn a blind eye to his idolatries, lies, pride, vanity, cruelty, lusts, greed, anger, and words and policies that continue to oppress our neighbors. So, I also pray that this sickness would bring him low, that it would humble him. 

Because if when you say "Pray for the President's recovery," you mean "pray he recovers so things can get back to normal," I want no part of those prayers. I, and a majority of Americans, are sick of his behavior and lack of integrity. Christians like myself are frustrated with his immorality and amazed by our fellow evangelicals who seem to excuse and give passes for it. We don’t want a return to “normal” Trump. Something has got to give. 

I have prayed for years that Trump would show maturity, wisdom, prudence, and peace. I have prayed he would stand up for all vulnerable people in this country, not just the unborn ones when it’s politically convenient. It has not happened. And in the face of no behavior change, no repentance, and no signs of changing course, the only thing I have left is that God would do something drastic in his life to open his eyes. I pray he would be humbled like Manasseh so that he knows God is King. I pray that in the middle of distress and suffering that he would learn the empathy for his fellow Americans he has often seemed to ignore. I pray that being brought low by a virus which does not care whether you are rich or poor, powerful or weak, conservative or liberal, would teach him humility, patience, gratitude, and compassion. 

Now, if you want to simply pray for the President to recover quickly, that is fine, and you should pray as your conscience and the Holy Spirit leads. But realize that many of your fellow Christians already find it difficult to pray for this man and are struggling for the right way to pray for him. So don't guilt them for not praying your way or be offended when they don't pray exactly like you. 

Yes, pray for the President at this time, but don't expect the prayers of others to match yours. Don't reduce prayer to a political spectacle or weapon. My allegiance is to another King, and the prayers of that Kingdom are deeper than most of us tend to imagine.

 

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Quarantine and Lent

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The word "quarantine" has been thrown around quite a bit in recent weeks as the novel Coronavirus has continued to spread across the globe. Here in Missouri, we topped 1,000 confirmed cases in the past 24 hours, and it seems the worst is still coming. In the face of this pandemic, the public is being advised to self-isolate and those who potentially have been exposed to the virus are being placed in "quarantine."

I came across some interesting articles earlier this week about the history of the word "quarantine." Although versions of the quarantine concept have been practiced throughout human history for a variety of reasons, the word itself seems to have originated in 14th century Italy. In the mid-1300's, another pandemic, the bubonic plague, was sweeping across Europe. Around 1377, the Venetian-controlled port of Ragusa implemented a policy of trentino, a 30-day waiting period for ships coming from areas affected by the plague. Over the next few years, this waiting period was extended to 40 days, thus becoming a quaratino. This Italian word for "about 40" is the basis for our English word of "quarantine."

No one is entirely sure why the waiting period was shifted from 30 to 40 days, but most scholars suspect it was related to religious reasons and the deep symbolism within Judaism and Christianity for the number 40. Indeed, it was not uncommon to find the number 40 used in other medical practices of the time. For example, mothers were often required to rest for "40 days" after giving birth to a child.

In the Bible, the number 40 carries significance and can be found in numerous stories. Noah rides out the flood for 40 days and nights. Moses intercedes with God for forty days after Israel makes the Golden calf. The people of Israel wander in the wilderness for 40 years. Saul’s Army cowers one fear for 40 days before Goliath until David arrives. Elijah lives off divinely provides food for 40 days as he fights depression while on the run from Jezebel. Ezekiel lays on his side for 40 days to symbolically bear Israel's sin. Jesus is fasts and is tempted by Satan in the desert for 40 days.

Now, what's interesting about the number 40 in Scripture is that it almost always seems to represent a time of isolation and testing. Look at the settings of these stories. A cataclysmic flood that destroys nearly all of humanity. Several stories of tempting in the desert. A prophet proclaiming the destruction of Jerusalem.

These were not happy times. They were times of temptation and failure. They were times of destruction and death. They were times of waiting, wondering if hope could be found. They were lonely times.

Incidentally, those of us who pay attention to the liturgical calendar know that we Christians also find ourselves embedded within another period of 40--Lent. For those who are less familiar with the lectionary or liturgical calendar, Lent is the 40-day season (minus Sundays) that begins with Ash Wednesday and culminates with Holy Week (Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter Sunday). Whereas Easter is the supreme day of rejoicing for Christians--a celebration of resurrection--Lent is a period of solemn reflection and lament.

During Lent, we take an honest look at our lives and our world and come face to face with their ugliness. We confront our own sins and attempt to grasp their full weight. We look toward the needy in our communities and dedicate ourselves to addresses the brokenness in our world. And ultimate, we stare into our own mortality and remind ourselves that death comes for us all.

This year, Lent began on February 26 (Ash Wednesday). Coincidentally, this was the exact same say that US officials announced the first confirmed case of community spread of the Coronavirus in the United States, a benchmark that moved us into the current crisis. And in the 30 days that followed, our news feeds have been consumed with nothing else and this tiny, invisible threat has completely and devastatingly turned our world upside-down.

The irony of this does not escape me. Literally as soon as those of us in Ash Wednesday services received the ashes on our foreheads with the charge to "Remember that you are dust, and to the dust you shall return," our nation was seized by fear of a virus that has been killing thousands worldwide. The message of Lent that we are mortal and are not truly in control could never be more clear.

And so, as I sit here, all of these threads begin weaving themselves together. A severe pandemic centuries ago created the concept of quarantine with a connection the the Biblical number of 40. Christians today are travelling through our own period of 40 days. In the midst of those 40 days another pandemic attacks us pushing us back into quarantine. It all comes full circle.

But this is why I appreciate the liturgical calendar. It gives me a framework of meaning and always seems timely--inspired by the Spirit if you will. At the moment, the world does not know how to respond. The ugliness of a period of testing, as all biblical periods of 40 were, is that they expose the darker sides of ourselves. We have seen fear and panic consume people because they feel a lack of control. In order to try regaining control, people have also resorted to hoarding and greed. Gun sales have also surged, not because a bullet can stop a virus, but because people are preparing for a fight or are willing to kill others who might threaten their property. The worst sides of humanity can come out in times like this.

Then there are also feelings of hopelessness and desperation. As a result of social distancing, everyone (both introvert and extrovert) are realizing just how important community is and how painful it can be to live with it. Couples are getting married without their families present. Mothers are giving birth without their husbands at their sides. Children are unable to visit their aging parents. Churches are unable to gather in person. School children are unable to see their friends. And stay-at-home parents are feeling depression settling in as their are locked inside their homes without adult interaction.

But the message of Lent also speaks most powerfully in times like this. Lent reminds us that grief and lament are ok in the sight of loss. The New Testament text in the lectionary for this past Sunday was about Jesus raising up Lazarus from the dead. Yet in that passage comes the shortest verse in Scripture--"Jesus wept." It is a reminder that even God Himself cries and grieves about the pain of this life.

Lent reminds us that the isolation and depression many of us temporarily face because of the virus is also the daily reality for so many of our neighbors. While we may be able to go back to work and our normal lives with friends, co-workers, and family in a few weeks or months, countless Americans do not have that luxury. There are senior citizens stuck in nursing homes with no one to visit them. There are adults and children who struggle with depression as a normal part of life. There are women who live in abusive relationships who have been isolated from every loved one by their abuser and for whom every day feels like a prison. As we experience similar emotions as them in this time of self-imposed isolation, we find solidarity with them and are hopefully motivated to live our lives in compassion towards those who see no end in sight.

And finally, Lent reminds us that we are not in control. That is the American myth. We crave control and can even do a decent job most days of creating some facade of it. But in the end, crises like this one rip back the curtain and expose our complete lac of control. But if we are paying attention to the message of Lent, we would not be so blindsided by this reality because we would know that it was a mirage all along. No matter how hard we try, the wilderness will always come. No matter how much we pull up our bootstraps, sometimes the whole rug of the economy gets pulled out from under us and knocks us down anyways. No matter how much we exercise, eat healthily, or medicate, death will always come for us. And sometimes, as some are finding out now, death comes much earlier than we might hope.

But the hope of Lent is that we need to let go of control in order to find a greater treasure. In the words of Jesus, those who lose their lives for His sake will find life. Those who grieve will be comforted. Those who lowly are those who are blessed. It's backwards. It's painful. But at moments like this, it's what we need.

So may our quarantine (both of the virus and of Lent) be a time of reflection of what truly matters in life and thus become a transforming period leading us into the resurrection of Easter.

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Give him the jet; We made him

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Recently, several news networks carried the story of a Louisiana preacher named Jesse Duplantis who made a video appeal to his followers to help him raise $54 million dollars to purchase a new private jet (Thanks to my friend Heather for posting this story and bringing it to my attention). You can watch his full video here. According to Duplantis, the jet is necessary because his current jet is unable to go anywhere in the world on a single tank of fuel, whereas the new jet can. Therefore, being able to hop anywhere in the world "in one stop" will enable him to "preach the gospel all over the world" for cheaper.

Immediately after publishing the video, negative and critical comments started flooding in (rightfully so), enough that Duplantis appeared personally on news stations and even issued a second video on his website to defend himself.

We really shouldn't be surprised at the apparent greed of powerful men and the gullibility of their followers. Such realities have always existed both inside and outside the church. Selfish appeals from televangelists are also nothing new. Yet, while it's easy to condemn and criticize hucksters like Duplantis (and such criticisms are deserved), I couldn't help but wonder if we should go ahead and buy him his jet. After all, we are the ones responsible for his appeal.

Duplantis and his ilk do not arise out of a vacuum. The represent many of the values American Christianity and evangelicalism has come to extol, whether consciously or unconsciously.

First, American Christianity has always mirrored society in creating celebrity cults. Such celebrity worship is obvious in the broader culture. A perfect example is the recent multi-day hullabaloo over Roseanne Barr's racist tweet that led to her show getting cancelled. While an unfortunate reminder that racism is still very prevalent today, it was ridiculous how much airtime a single tweet received. Even more ridiculous was the fact that many respected news outlets talked about how the President of United States finally "broke his silence" about the tweet and the show's cancellation (as if the President has nothing better to do than weigh in on celebrity gossip and network lineups). The focus was not really about racism, but about the celebrity.

Sadly, the church is no different. We fill stadiums to witness the spectacle of preachers like Billy Graham, Joel Olsteen, Matt Chandler, Beth Moore, Rob Bell and countless others. Congregations are no longer satisfied with small communities, but must become "mega-churches" centered around a charismatic, well-groomed (often male) celebrity preacher. The best selling books in Christian bookstores are (not incidentally) written by pastors of said mega churches. Our worship leaders get major records deals and utilize the newest, hottest instruments, sound boards, and lights to give us spectacle worthy of U2 or Coldplay. We love our holy celebrities and are willing to pamper them like the kings and queens we believe they are. As such, we really have no right to critique Duplantis for acting like a celebrity when much of the country treats their own pastors the same way.

Second, American Christianity has implicitly taught that sharing the Gospel is the pastor/preacher's job. From the get-go, Duplantis assumes he needs a jet because he assumes it is his job to go across the world personally and speak about the "gospel." Sadly, such a perspective really should reflect a failure of his ministry more than a success in some ways. If his ministry were actually changing lives, then the fruit of that life change would be thousands or millions of folks who are also taking the Gospel into their own communities all around the world. He would not need to frantically fly all over the place. After all, Jesus only preached in a tiny square of the world, but his message is now reaching the ends of the earth because He created real, lasting, transformative change in His disciples.

However, before we criticize Duplantis, we must recognize that most of our churches operate in the same manner. It is the preacher's job to teach and preach, and our job to sit passively and absorb. We are instructed to "bring our friends" to worship services so they can hear the Gospel. Our pastors are seen as religious professionals and experts who do the "real work" of ministry. But this is not how it should be. A pastor's job is to equip the congregation to be the church in its community. Every member is a minister. As long as we continue to view our own pastors as the primary evangelist, teacher, and discipler, then we might as well support Duplantis in his effort to get a new jet because our ecclesiology supports his need to personally travel the world to accomplish his work.

Finally, American evangelicalsim believes in the same truncated gospel as Duplantis. Consistent in Duplantis' request is the idea that "the gospel" is all about "saving souls" in a spiritual sense. While the plan of salvation is certainly good news and of utmost importance, it is not identical to "the Gospel," at least not the one Jesus preached.

In short, the "Gospel" is the good news that the history of Israel is now fulfilled in the life, work, death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus Christ who is bringing His Kingdom to earth. This good news includes the plan of salvation, but is not limited to it. Implied in the gospel Jesus and His disciples preached is a demand to participate in God's Kingdom here and now, which means also working in physical, tangible realities, not simply abstract, spiritual truths. "Good news" means taking care of the poor and oppressed, standing up for truth and justice, and imagining creative ways to tell the story of God in our communities. It means confronting both the personal, invisible sins within each of us that keep us separated from God and confronting the societal, visible sins that alienate all of us from the good life God created in the beginning.

A $54 million jet has rightly been condemned as a wasteful expense when the same money could benefit so many other ministries who are proclaiming the gospel in more holistic ways. How many hungry children could we feed in our communities with that money? How many expecting mothers could we house who are debating abortion because of financial fears? How many Bibles could we print? How many water wells could we drill? How many foreign missionaries already embedded in foreign countries could we support?

But, maybe we don't deserve to ask those questions because many of us believe in the same gospel as Duplantis. We believe in a gospel which says the only thing that matters is getting people to "believe" and say a prayer. All that matters is "winning souls." If that is our gospel, then of course it makes perfect sense to send a man all around the world, pack stadiums and parks full of as many people as you can, and use lights and emotional music to prompt them to come to the altar. I'm sure you can efficiently rack up a ton of "decisions" with a private jet.

So, why not? It may seem crass, but his request may be an honest presentation of our biggest faults we hide under the rug as American Christians. So, let's buy him his jet. He might be more effective than us at fulfilling our own vision of church and the gospel after all.

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"The Crossing" and Israel

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I recently watched the pilot episode of ABC's new sci-fi drama "The Crossing," created by Jay Beattie and Dan Dworkin. The show definitely holds some potential, and it will be interesting to see if it ends up being binge-worthy or a flop. However, I am intrigued to continue watching how the show develops because the opening episode seems to be developing some interesting themes. In particular, it seems to be setting the stage to use the Old Testament story of the people of Israel as a motif within the show.

If you haven't seen previews for the show or the pilot episode yet, the basic premise of the show is that a rural sheriff (played by Steve Zahn) discovers hundreds of bodies that wash up his Washington beach, including a few dozen survivors. Federal agents quickly gets involved and shut out local officials. As the story unfolds, the survivors disclose that they are refugees from the future. Fleeing war and an oppressive power, they utilized a new time travel technology, but something went wrong and they ended up underwater in the ocean instead of on land. Sheriff Ellis and some federal agents have safety concerns, especially since some of the survivors warn of "others" who have special abilities, some of whom may have crossed over earlier.

In watching the first episode, I couldn't help but notice a number of similarities between the story of these refugees and the story of Israel in the Bible. For starters, the show's title appears to reference the time travel event in which the refugees "crossed" back into the past by passing through the ocean. This event itself could be seen as a powerful biblical image, a group of oppressed people passing through the waters (Pacific Ocean/Red Sea) to escape their oppressors.

Furthermore, like Israel, hope they have entered a "promised land." One refugee describes the America of the past (our present day) as a much more ideal and free place than the one the left. For these refugees, 2000's America may seem like a land full of milk and honey. However, just as in the Pentateuch, the post-oppression journey is not an easy one. Those journeying to freedom find themselves to be small and powerless compared to their neighbors. And like Israel, the refugees in the crossing appear to be entering a wilderness period as the federal government only moves them into temporary housing in the middle of the woods.

I don't know if the show's writers are aware of these similarities or not, but one final piece makes me suspect they are. Less than five minutes into the show, Sheriff Ellis has a conversation with a little girl he pulled from the water a few hours earlier. When she tells him her name is Leah, the sheriff remarks, "That's in the Bible, isn't it?" Interestingly, the girl responds with a blank stare, confused about what a "Bible" is.

It is this line that made me start to pay attention to the biblical themes in the episode. Indeed, as I listened to the names, there definitely seems to be a pattern--all the refugees have biblical names: Leah, Hannah, Rebecca, Caleb, Thomas. Even the names themselves seem to be significant. For example, in the Bible Leah is the daughter-in-law of Rebecca, whereas the show's Rebecca takes on a mother role to the girl Leah. Likewise, the one refugee who seems to be skeptical, self-interested, and perhaps "doubting" is named Thomas.

The only exception to this rule (so far) is a refugee named Reece, who incidentally is different from the others, being the only one to demonstrate special powers and the only one not rescued on the beach. So perhaps her lack of a biblical name is also significant. In contrast, Sheriff Ellis also has a biblical name as his first name is Jude. Perhaps this is an indicator that he will be an ally to the refugees.

The show is clearly poised to deal with a number of social and political issues. For instance, the first episode already has touched on our treatment and views of refugees and immigrants, something our country has been dealing with in real life. Of course, it's hard to determine what directions a show will go and what themes will develop simply from the pilot episode, but if the above allusions are intentional, this show may end up conveying some really potent messages by way of biblical imagery. Perhaps these refugees will find themselves on a similar journey as Israel--oppressed and killed because of their identity, a miraculous escape through water to safety, only to face trials and tribulations in the wilderness as they journey towards a promised land of freedom and prosperity. And with superpowers apparently to play a role, one wonders what "giants" they may find in the land along the way.

Update:
Sadly, ABC recently made the decision to cancel the show after its first season. It would have been interesting to see how the show developed over time given that a number of biblical themes seemed to persist throughout the first season. For example, the trend with biblical names continued consistently, the city where most of the plot takes place is called "Port Canaan" (an invented city name), one character is healed with the blood of another character, and there are numerous references to religion or churches both in dialogue and architecture. Who knows? Perhaps another network will pick it up one day.

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