A major crisis is wreaking havoc in the Sahel region of Sub-Saharan Africa, but few people care. Even though the United Nations estimates that 18 million people are at risk of starvationⁱ, most Westerners aren’t even aware of the problem. This is in stark contrast to the 2010 Haitian earthquake crisis, during which the flood of media and financial support totaled more than $100 million in donations to Oxfam alone.ⁱⁱ In fact, the $12 million that Oxfam has received in support of the crisis in the Sahelⁱⁱⁱ is even significantly less than the paltry $32 million it received last year during the devastating Horn of Africa famine crisis.^iv While financial donations don’t paint the entire picture, they do suggest that our compassion for our friends around the globe is waning. The fact that we are not only donating less money, but are also devoting less time to caring about the crisis in the Sahel suggests that compassion seems too tiring to consider, much less carry out. We are stricken with compassion fatigue.

Caring about people across the globe is tiring because it requires that we exert self-control. Social psychological research shows that doing what comes naturally to us is easy because it doesn’t require any self-control. However, whenever we make a concerted effort to engage in an activity that we would not naturally choose or to abstain from an activity that we would naturally choose, we must draw upon our limited source of self-control in order to regulate our behavior. Self-control is like a muscle – it gets tired after a lot of use. For this reason, once we run out of self-control, we have a really hard time controlling our future behavior.

One study^v illustrated this by seating hungry participants at a table in a room that smelled like freshly-baked chocolate chip cookies. Two plates were placed on top of the table, one full of raw radishes and the other full of chocolate chip cookies. Some participants were told to eat at least 2-3 radishes while refraining from eating the cookies. Other participants were told to eat at least 2-3 cookies while refraining from eating the radishes. Next, the participants were asked to complete a difficult puzzle and the researchers measured how long each participant worked on the puzzle before giving up in frustration. The researchers found that the participants who had been asked to exercise self-control by eating radishes instead of cookies, gave up on working on the puzzle almost immediately. They had worn out their self-control muscle and had no energy or discipline to focus on the difficult puzzle. However, the participants who had eaten the cookies had not worn out their self-control muscle and were able to work on the difficult puzzle for quite a long time. Interestingly, related studies have found that chronic dieters (who are accustomed to choosing healthy foods over unhealthy foods), have no trouble choosing radishes over chocolate chip cookies and don’t need to exert much self-control in order to do so.^vi

Due to our selfish natures and to the fact that we naturally (and devastatingly) draw us/them distinctions between us and “victims of global crises”, helping us comes naturally but helping them does not. As such, the act of choosing to devote valuable financial resources and time to caring about issues like the crisis in the Sahel is a lot like choosing to eat radishes instead of chocolate chip cookies. It’s simply easier and more natural to eat the cookies . We might be able to use our self-control muscle to summon compassionate action for one or two crises, but sooner or later, we get tired of caring. Alas, we are out of shape – one compassion workout defeats us.

The good news is that even though many of us are out of shape right now, we can whip ourselves into shape. Since self-control is like a muscle, it gets stronger when we work it out. Even though many of us are experiencing compassion fatigue, we must resist the temptation to slack off and “sit this one out.” Instead, we must fight through the fatigue by engaging in compassionate action. For example, we can sign up for RSS feeds and Twitter and Facebook updates that keep us informed and engaged. We can talk to our friends, church groups, and work organizations. We can donate time and money to organizations that are on the ground in the Sahel.

If we refuse to stop and rest when we experience compassion fatigue, we will strengthen our self-control muscle to the point that caring for our global family members becomes natural. When that happens, not caring will be the unnatural response that requires self-control and causes fatigue. When that day comes, the whole world will benefit.

Following President Obama’s endorsement of same-sex marriage, pastor Worley took to the pulpit to rage against “queers and homosexuals”. However, it is his proposed “solution” to the “problem” (eerily reminiscent of Hitler’s Final Solution) that rightfully has people in arms. In his own words:

I figured a way out to get rid of all the lesbians and queers, but I couldn’t get it past the Congress: build a great big, large fence, hundred–fifty or a hundred–mile long. Put all the lesbians in there. Fly over and drop some food. Do the same thing with the queers and the homosexual. And have that fence electrified so they can’t get out. Feed them. And you know what? In a few years they’ll die out. Do you know why? They can’t reproduce.

Sadly, this explosive video is just the most recent in a long stream of gay-marriage-related stories making headlines from my home state of North Carolina.

Most recently, my state amended its constitution—through a ballot initiative commonly known as Amendment One—to officially ban same-sex marriage and all domestic and civil unions.

Nevermind that same-sex marriage is already illegal in our state. It seems that not a day goes by where I don’t hear a quote or read an article where another pastor has taken to the pulpit to remind his congregation that “homosexuality is wrong and against the Bible!”

This breaks my heart.

It’s difficult to watch the state I love to call home portrayed on the national stage as a bastion of bigotry. It’s even more painful is to listen to the disappointment in the voices of my friends—both gay and straight—as they talk about the role of the church in perpetuating prejudice by advancing a theology of hateful exclusion.

Time after time I have tried to explain to anyone who would listen that Christianity, in its purest form, is founded on the principles of compassion, inclusivity and limitless love for one another. I have pleaded with friends to understand that the church, as an institution, is made up of imperfect individuals who are trying to imitate the perfect life of Christ, and often falling very short.

The church has been an incredibly positive and formative institution in my life. My father is a Baptist pastor, as was his father before him. However, unlike the Baptist pastors who tend to make headlines, my father and grandfather spent their careers tirelessly advocating for those who were marginalized—those whom Jesus called, “the least of these”. Growing up, the gospel I heard from the pulpit every Sunday was one that demanded Christians take seriously the example of Jesus who lived a life of unbridled and indiscriminate compassion.

This is why it has been so difficult to watch my peers write off the church as a backwards, archaic institution; one that is long on condemnation and short on compassion. According to a recent study, sixty-four percent of my fellow Millennials describe Christianity as “anti-gay” and more than sixty-two percent of Millennials view Christians as judgmental.

With pastors like Charles L. Worley, who can blame them for seeing Christians this way?

Even a first-year divinity school student could dismantle Worley’s theologically tenuous arguments, but a better use of time is to pose some questions to the broader community of faith–questions like:

• How have we allowed those who abuse scripture to substantiate their own prejudices to become our spokespeople on the national stage?

• How many times must we relearn the lessons of history whereby the Church let itself be defined by anti-Semites, sexists, and racists and suffered the devastating consequences?

Good-hearted people can and will disagree about issues of human sexuality. If we are honest, none of us can claim to have solved the great mysteries of gender, attraction or love. The religious community itself is heavily divided on the issue of same-sex marriage.

Rather, as Robin Meyers poses in his book, Saving Jesus from the Church, “Until we have homosexuality all figured out, shouldn’t we practice radical hospitality? As long as we ‘see through a glass darkly’ isn’t it wise to err on the side of inclusion and compassion, rather than condemnation?”  Surely, the same Jesus who invited the outcasts and marginalized to sit at the head of the banquet table of the kingdom would be the one to call upon his church to broaden the circles of inclusion, not narrow them.

To my fellow Christians in North Carolina and across the country, I have one earnest plea. We cannot stand idly by and refuse to speak out for the rights of all God’s children to be treated equally with love and dignity. If we fail to act in defense of our homosexual brothers and sisters then we are just as culpable for maintaining the status quo as Pastor Worley.

And to all my friends in the LGBTQ community, please forgive us. Please forgive the church and Christians (myself included), for being severely flawed. We ask that you do not judge Christ by those who bear his name but discard his call to love unconditionally. We pray that you will give us another chance to extend the grace and compassion that God so clearly requires of us.

And finally, to all those who have been hurt, angered and disappointed by the hateful words of people like Pastor Charles L. Worley, I pray that we can heed these words of wisdom from the early 20th century American poet, Edwin Markham:

He drew a circle that shut me out-

Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout.

But Love and I had the wit to win:

We drew a circle that took him in.

]]> http://recoveringevangelical.com/2012/05/charles-r-worley/feed/ 18 http://recoveringevangelical.com/2011/12/everyone-in-the-world-is-your-family/ http://recoveringevangelical.com/2011/12/everyone-in-the-world-is-your-family/#comments Tue, 20 Dec 2011 21:56:27 +0000 Andrew Ulasich http://recoveringevangelical.com/?p=1680 If you’ve been paying attention to the news about the famine currently killing people in the Horn of Africa, you’re among the barely fifty-percent of Americans who have even heard about this crisis. You’ve probably also grown accustomed to the following responses when people find out about this and similar humanitarian crises (heck, maybe you’ve even had some of these reactions yourself):

“I’m sure things are rough in Africa right now, but we have our own problems that we need to take care of here.” Or maybe you’ve heard someone say, “I’m all for helping other people, but why do we keep giving assistance to Africa when nothing changes?” As I have been following the sparse news on the drought and famine crisis now wreaking havoc across the Horn of Africa I follow the coverage, I read the articles — and then I inevitably scroll down to the comments section.

Those articles that describe food aid sent to Somalia, Kenya and Ethiopia are often riddled with strongly worded, sometimes vitriolic, opinions. Despite knowing blog comments are often be an abyss of disturbing and infuriating words, I’ve been shocked by what I read. Almost all of the comments went to the tune of those above.

So, why? Why should we give to what seems like a black hole for donations? Why should we continue to give when it seems it hardly makes a dent?

One simple reason is that a difference can be made. In fact, you can make a difference right now. Reports as recently as this fall estimated that 13 million people were affected by the crisis, and 750,000 were at risk of starvation. While tens of thousands have already died, that initial estimate of at-risk people has dropped to 250,000 thanks to the role the U.S. government, in partnership with dozens of non-governmental organizations — including several faith based organizations like World Vision and Catholic Relief Services — have played in meeting the massive human need provoked by this crisis.

The other reason you should care is a simple matter of perspective.

When I lived in Nepal, I quickly learned that people address friends, acquaintances and strangers the way they do family members. When speaking to an elderly woman, you call her amma (mother). A man who is older than you is dai (older brother). A young girl is nani (my daughter). It doesn’t matter if you’ve never met them; they are people and that makes them family.

My six year old niece affirmed this perspective when she told us about a dream she had. She said she dreamed that God spoke to her and said, “Everyone in the world is your family.” It’s a simple, beautiful idea. All of us are God’s children. I am my brother’s keeper. And believing this changes everything.

Why do we give? Because God’s family is not limited to a national border. Because if your mother is suffering from hunger, you feed her. And if your sister has walked miles through arid land and risked violence and rape as your niece slowly dies of starvation on her back, you do everything you can to relieve that suffering. Everything.

Amidst the brokenness of the world, it is difficult to know where to start. The problems we face together often seem endless and overwhelming, and I don’t have the answers. But I do know that if everyone in the world is my family, then my brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews, children and parents in the Horn of Africa are starving. Why do we give? Because they are our family. And we must.

Over the 12 or so years I spent in the corporate marketing world as an advertising executive for global entities like Citigroup, MasterCard, and the ad agencies that animate their brands, it became an increasingly perplexing problem. Even as I developed high-profile campaigns and promotions for my clients, I felt distracted and uneasy with the work. Sitting in meetings, it seemed everyone was speaking an odd language I couldn’t wholly follow, a vernacular inspired by a buy-in I could not seem to achieve. I gave myself pep-talks. I beat myself up for not appreciating my “glamorous” job. I tried my best to heed the corporate creed pleading loyalty to a doctrine that while arguably logical on a spreadsheet, made zero sense internally. Why was I so bored at board meetings? Why couldn’t I force myself to care more about the office politics or the latest buzz products in the financial sector? Maybe I just didn’t have what it takes.

Three and a half years ago I followed a call to seminary, and quickly realized that my trepidation in my former career had nothing to with me… and everything to do with me. Nothing was wrong with my career efforts, my business practices, or my level of intelligence. But the core of my being — the person I am at heart — rejected every slippery acquisition presentation that promised ever-higher profit margins, every business plan that banked on the instinctual insecurities and mutated desires of consumer culture. The ultimate goal of my work all those years had been to shape human behavior into a spending pattern, to open up a bottomless hole of desire and then promise to fill it with something that could actually cause people to lose more than they gained, or at the very least leave them ultimately unsatisfied so their longings could be exploited again and again. Even considering the relational, emotional tug of the MasterCard “priceless” commercials, the experiential payoff of each sweet scenario depends upon a preceding purchase path; dependent upon credit worth and buoyed by buying power, the moment of truth is based on lies.

No, nothing was wrong with me, per se. But because of my faith, reality — or truth — takes a form that would spark little recognition within those towering office buildings: a truth embodied by a man whose nature was to give everything and take nothing, who did not have a place to lay his head yet held the weight of the world on his shoulders, and who was willing to risk and lose life to give others a chance at it. I’m not so sure that the reality of Christ has a return on investment (ROI) that would be attractive to the big banks. They are two very different ideas of what’s “priceless.”

At Union Theological Seminary the academics did not tend toward sentimentality, but I learned more in those three years about the action of loving God with all my heart and loving my neighbor as myself — the social justice aspects of my Christian faith — than in the lifetime of Christianity I had claimed. Yet I also realized that there is indeed a Holy Spirit that I learned about back in my early, conflicted upbringing as a Southern Baptist in Alabama. It is a Spirit that lives within us if we will allow it. Once it takes up residence it will not allow us to live by any other standard than that of Mark 12 and the Greatest Commandment without sounding an alarm in the core of our beings.

The companies I worked for were putting profits before people consistently, investing in short-turn profit runs over the long-term common good, and even though at the time I was generally naive about the level of my complicity (at age 21, I simply thought advertising would be a cool, creative job), something in my core being would not let me feel comfortable with it. In my particular job, I certainly had not been propelling humanity forward day by day. In order to succeed, I was being required to think backward.

In light of the great commandment to love God with all our hearts and to love our neighbors as ourselves, it’s easy to see that many (most?) of our societal norms are backward: the consumption of far more than is needed by many while others barely survive or do not survive, the widespread preferential treatment of people who exhibit certain physical qualities or social status, an economic system based on the callous exploitation of animals, natural resources, and the beauty and utility of creation. Yet we are impervious, desensitized, senseless. We don’t get it. Besides, giving of ourselves to nature, to others, without expectation of a generous ROI, would threaten our precious “standard of living.”

Yet this was not the expectation or the standard by which God came to Earth, as we of the Christian tradition are called to remember especially during this Advent season. This, it seems to me, is also the message of Occupy Wall Street. There is a Spirit that will not let the occupiers rest in a world of gross inequality and oppression of the vulnerable as it stands. Media, politicians and pundits are continually confused about what they’re up to; OWS is simply refusing to be forced to think and act backward in order to succeed.

While criticized for a perceived lack of leadership, decorum, demands, or action plans, OWS picked up on something far more profound, something that has the potential to change the world. If it came in the form of a business plan or a savvy political scheme led by a select few who had the power or clout to make it take off in popularity, it would not be a forward-thinking idea with a better sense of priorities than our current systems. (Hint: forward-thinking does not equal more profitable.) Besides, isn’t it oxymoronic to demand compassion? Isn’t it counter-intuitive to carefully construct a publicity campaign for spontaneous acts of passionate protest, for extemporaneous takeovers to inspire extreme makeovers in the most crucial sectors of society?

Occupy Faith NYC, a multi-faith group of clergy who support the new democratic spirit of OWS, sensed the subversive potential present in the rag-tag appearances of the movement. Faith communities of all types have unified behind OWS because the movement comes the closet of any effort of late — religious or non-religious — to illuminating the sheer life-and-death nature of our choice to obey the principles of economic justice, social responsibility, and merciful dealings that all scriptures and inter-religious ideologies promote.

In the Bible, God asks the people repeatedly to care about one another as they care about themselves, to want the best for everyone regardless of circumstance, even it if means compromising or taking less than one might believe one has earned or otherwise deserves. Is it impossible for human beings to actually care about one another? Or it is that many of us who are powerful — or even just comfortable — don’t know how to care for others because we don’t know what it means to truly care about ourselves anymore?

In his new book The Price of Civilization, world-renowned economic advisor and scholar Jeffrey Sachs describes the current economic crisis as a moral crisis, a product of “the decline of virtue among America’s political and economic elite.” He begins his entire thesis narrative by saying:

A society of markets, laws, and elections is not enough if the rich and powerful fail to behave with respect, honesty, and  compassion toward the rest of society and toward the world. America has developed the world’s most competitive market society  but has squandered its civic virtue along the way. Without restoring an ethos of social responsibility, there can be no meaningful and sustained economic recovery.

But before we fix our glare on politicians, Wall Street, capitalism, corporations and absurdly compensated CEOs alone, Sachs reminds us that “[the] breakdown of politics also implicates the broad public. American society is too deeply distracted by our media-drenched consumerism to maintain the habits of effective citizenship.”

People generally know more about the Kardashians than American socio-economic policies and political procedures, and people generally buy into more of their ideas, brands, personas and products, too. So, which one shapes our goals and priorities?

Jeremy Rifkin, president of the Foundation of Economic Trends and advisor to the European Union, wrote The Empathic Civilization to argue that the arch of history bends toward an increasingly compassionate and unified global culture, if for no other reason than our common, ill-fated environmental conundrum. He points out that no matter who or where we are, we all ultimately want and need the same thing: to keep our planet from self-destructing, and to ensure positive economic, social and environmental prospects for our children and those we love.

To realize our shared goal, it is imperative to recognize that although there are individual or nationalistic advantages at stake, which make agreeing on the right course of action a contentious proposition, our fate as a species depends on our ability to loosen our tightly-wound self interests and cooperate. Only then can we pull off the sizable revolution that will be “saving the world” and restoring humanity to a sustainable future.

As a pastor, a theologian, and an activist, I have to believe Rifkin is right: human beings are on a trajectory of experience, growth, and change that evokes our empathic sensibilities, encouraging the practice of compassion toward the “other” more intensely with each passing decade. With the advent of technology fostering global interconnectedness, the rate of realizing the benefits of collective care increases with each passing day.

But to propel us along this trajectory, we must face challenges, we must correct setbacks, we must point out our missteps to one another, we must speak out about systemic malfunctions. Charity cannot sustain us; the systems that either provide or deny avenues for education, training, support, and opportunities must be reworked to promote human dignity and allow real change that lasts. This is why we urgently need protests, movements, occupations. This is how human kind provokes the movement of God in the world:

The Lord rises to argue the case;
And stands to judge the peoples…
It is you who have devoured the vineyard;
the spoil of the poor is in your houses.
What do you mean by crushing my people,
by grinding the faces of the poor?
says the Lord God of Hosts. — Isaiah 3:13-15

The tempting truth is that in our profit-driven world, backward makes bank. But as people of faith, alive with the Spirit, we are called to live out of our conscience into a new consciousness. This is the coming of a new reality that some may call the kingdom of God, some may call social responsibility, and some may call an empathic evolution of humanity. God’s presence is called forth by our rejection of the status quo, and our desire for new way of being. In this Advent season, let us be occupied by a forward foretaste of hope.

A version of this article first appeared at the State of Formation blog. 

From the beginning, hip-hop played a leading role redeeming disenfranchised urban communities around the US. Bambaataa’s song “unity,” led to healing NY’s gang stratification. The track “White Lines” by seminal artist Grandmaster Flash (pictured above left), led the charge in combating cocaine addiction. And when crack hit the streets – turning homes into shuttered buildings that sought to capture the soul of the inner-city communities – songs like “Night of the Living Baseheads” by Public Enemy, provided a prophetic voice of truth tragedy.

But now the game has changed. While one can look around and find artists who aspire to honor the culture of hope, the vast majority of the artists who dominate the landscape, the ones heard on top forty radio and who claim traffic on iTunes, are clearly of another system. Once corporate America began to see hip-hop as a revenue venue rather than a culture, rap music began to separate from the more fundamental values of hip-hop. It traded the hope for reclamation and redemption of community for individual advancement and monetary improvement – as represented in the opulent “bling” era of hip-hop that prevails in pop culture.

As rap became the dominating force in expressing hip-hop, the art formed was commercialized, packaged, and exported – in both its authenticity and inauthenticity – to a waiting world. Today there is not a culture uninfluenced by hip-hop. Remote African villages, reflect the globalization in the 50 cent, Eminem and Nelly T-shirts that villagers don and the random lines of top 40 rap songs that flow out of the mouths of babes. Go to Korea, Japan, Hong Kong, or a number of other Asian nations and you will see the heart of the resurging b-boy culture. The citizens of Brazilian favelas are showing the same heart and desire to change as American urbanites did in the late 70’s and early 80’s. Internationally, rap has become the music of the aspiring and the heart of hip-hop culture is trickling into region after region, positioning itself as one of the most important social forces on earth.

These trends beg the question: What would happen if today’s most influential hip-hop artists were to come together, embrace the scene’s original values, and decide to focus their art into fostering social change. The Knowledge, Power, Respect campaign is one way to address this question and channel the power of hip-hop. The campaign is asking seven prominent artists – Akon, Jay Z, Kanye West, Rihana, Lil’ Wayne, Eminem, and Will.i.am – to promote the ideas of knowledge to their listeners.

Knowledge is not just about formal education; it’s about understanding the world and ourselves within it. It’s about coming to grips with how it is we come to know things; it’s about our fundamental epistemology. Not every person will (or should) receive an advanced degree, but regardless of our formal educational status, all of us should embrace what it means to be knowledgeable citizens of the world and seek out deeper personal and social knowledge.

So where does power and respect come into play? It is well documented that knowledge and education are conduits for social change. We believe that the encouragement to knowledge will lead to an empowerment for the disenfranchised and eventually a social respect for those in hip-hop culture and blighted communities.

Growing up, my mom always made the best snacks for me and my friends. You couldn’t go just anywhere and enjoy the kind of buffet my mom set out on the table: brownies, chips, sandwiches and soda… what more could a pre-teen ask for? Who am I kidding? I still love the stuff. Even though a few of my more notorious friends would spill soda on the carpet, it was still a joy for her to host, offering her gifts of hospitality.

Cooking has become a huge part of my life; so too has feeding the people I love. It’s no longer enough for me to feed people pizza. Every person needs to have their own personally designed pie with freshly made Neapolitan-style dough in a kitchen that’s too small to keep up. We have a poster in our kitchen by artist Nikki McClure that says “Share Your Table” (see the full poster below). It is a testament to the kind of people we want to be.

Love looks like a lot of different things. Serving another person makes the “love” list in my book. Serving also happens to be part of my day job. There are people in this world that aren’t exactly my favorite, but I’ve found a freedom in serving the people who aren’t going to say thank you. I believe it to be one of the noblest occupations.

I love the fact that people always hang out in the kitchen. It’s cramped and gets bloody hot in the summertime; but it’s also cozy, and people know that good things usually come out of kitchens. There is nothing I love more than one of our rooms full of people eating, especially if it’s something I’ve worked hard to give them. In a sense you’re feeding them with more than food. You’re feeding them your history.

After all, eating is the great equalizer. Food is the most basic human need. What better way to enter life with the beloved of God than by feeding them, pulling up another chair and keeping their glasses full?

Now the Tea Party has had enough of the Republican Party’s Leadership dragging their feet — dare I say, ignoring — these core conservative values. They have decided to push these values with or without formal support from Republican Party leadership. And while I disagree with the Tea Party on many issues, I actually admire them for not being used and ignored any longer.

At last night’s GOP Presidential debate in Aimes, Iowa, Congresswoman Michelle Bachman, perennial darling of the Tea Party movement, brandished her social conservative bonafides on a number of culture war issues. She reaffirmed her support for a constitutional amendment to ban gay marriage. When questioned about her vote in favor of raising taxes to end the 2005 Minnesota government shutdown, she threw down the pro-life gauntlet, saying:

“When the deal was put together, Governor Pawlenty cut a deal with the special interest groups, and he put, in the same bill a vote to increase the cigarette tax, as well as a vote that would take away protections from the unborn, and I made a decision. I believe in the sanctity of human life; and I believe you can get money wrong, but you can’t get life wrong, and that’s why I came down on that decision… I didn’t cut deals with special interest groups where you put the pro-life issues together with tax increase issues. That’s a non-negotiable.”

Bottom-line: Bachman’s verbal mix-up saying the tax-increase bill would take away protections from the unborn notwithstanding — the actual bill included pro-life “informed consent” provisions, which she likely meant to highlight — her unwavering commitment to this issue led her to vote for a tax increase. And she defended that decision.

The Republican Party relied heavily on these Values Voters to re-elect Bush in 2004. And while I sincerely believe that Bush was personally invested in and supported pro-straight, pro-life issues, his administration focused their attention on pushing the agenda of fiscal conservatives.

Fiscal conservatives used the Bush years to further deregulate the financial markets, cut taxes on the wealthiest Americans, unravel decades of environmental protection precedents, and promote lucrative deals between military contractors and oil companies during wars in Afganistan and Iraq. The deregulation of the financial sector allowed high risk loans to filter through the global markets like a cancer, the Bush tax cuts cost America nearly $2 trillion in revenue, and the money made by private contractors cost thousands of lives and increased our national debt by another $1 trillion.  Meanwhile, Bush used and then ignored the concerns of the Values Voters who helped elect him.

After the Obama election, these Values Voters re-energized around the Tea Party movement. Now Tea Party Leaders are pushing for conservative stances on sexuality but adding a strong anti-immigration stance and a commitment to reducing spending. And rather than working with Republican Leaders and fiscal conservatives, they are going rogue. Voting their values and passionately shooting down even Republican legislation that isn’t Values Voter friendly. And I applaud Values voters for electing officials that represent them. They aren’t letting Fiscal Conservatives to court them during the elections and them ignoring them while in office.

Now don’t get me wrong. I strongly oppose the Tea Party on most issues. But the Tea Party has reminded me of the power of conviction. If they want to push their conservative moral agenda then I say, more power to them — let your freak flags fly. Meanwhile, I’m gonna let my progressive Christian flag fly too. And hopefully those of us who are progressive can start a movement that doesn’t let the Democratic Party court our votes and then ignore our issues.

We appear to be better than Kenya because our poor are richer than Kenya’s poor, but what many forget is that the top 1% of America’s earners are far richer than Kenya’s. American leaders are struggling to cut and or tax their way through a veritable financial jungle. Nearest I can tell, the current battle seems to be over who should pay for the future of America.

So, in order to help people see things in a new light I want to compare America to East Africa. Let’s take two examples, side-by-side, and compare: Minnesota USA vs. Kenya, Africa…

In Minnesota a family on government assistance often lives in subsidized housing, though through relationships I’ve built with some families, I’ves seen up to 10 people living in a one or two bedroom apartment. Below you’ll see the 2 bedroom low-income apartment I lived in during college with 5 people. In Kenya a low-income or no-income family receives no government help and lives in a shanty made of garbage.

All neighborhoods in Minneapolis, MN have free public schools and feature classrooms with at least 1 computer. Free Public Education is rare in Kenya. Most Kenyan schools cost around $300 a semester and have a few books, a blackboard, and no computers.

Minnesota also has a health care program called MinnesotaCare which provides free health care for citizens who are on welfare programs, although not everyone is covered, many are. In Kenya all medical bills are paid in cash, there is no health care insurance for most people. So many people die from treatable illnesses like malaria and pneumonia.

America might have a higher standard of care for its most vulnerable, but if the income inequality is the same in both countries what could America accomplish? What happens when you compare America against its own potential? In America, the riches 1% make an average of 440 times as much money as the bottom 50% of Americans.** Comparing low income apartments and mansions changes the way I see the choice between cutting government assistance or taxing the rich.

Schools in America are not all performing at the same level. The group Closing the Achievement Gap headed by Alma and Colin Powell reported in 2009 that there was a large gap between the average high school graduation rate of 53 % in urban schools, compared with 71 % in the suburbs. It’s true that America provides free public education to all, but the outcomes seem to be radically different. And let me just mention that we spend 15 times more money on military than on education ($45 Billion vs $689 Billion).***

And Americans spend about the same on the Military, Health Care for the poor and elderly, and Social Security. Do Americans really value war that much? So what kind of America could we live in? Who will pay for our future? Do we want to cut funding to our students and low income earners or will we ask our richest citizens (remember 440 times richer!) to bring our country into the future?

You might even want to ask yourself an oldie but a goodie…WWJD?

* http://hdrstats.undp.org/en/indicators/146.html

**http://www.nytimes.com/2007/03/29/business/worldbusiness/29iht-income.4.5075504.html

***http://www.cbo.gov/ftpdocs/120xx/doc12039/HistoricalTables%5B1%5D.pdf

The honest truth is the more you don’t talk about God the harder it will be to talk about God for Christians and non-Christians alike. It’s sort of like dating after a long absence, it only becomes more awkward the longer you wait.

Why do scriptures put such an emphasis on the need to spread the gospel: the “good news”? Well, it’s because Christ offers life and life in abundance. Jesus draws near to those who draw near to him. To those who lean on him and trust in him in their day-to-day.

Christ came to die for sinners. All of us are in need of a savior, yes, even the Christian who may not be saved simply because they attend church or call themselves believers. The gospels offer a transformation of the heart: a lifestyle change so profound that the scriptures describe it as coming from death to life. The gospels aren’t a self-help guide, because Christians have believed that the ability for one to truly help themselves is actually very limited, especially when it comes to matters of the heart and matters of character. All are in need of a God who is surprisingly aware of the details and needs of every person–even every creature–on the earth.

The less you talk about the God, the less likely you will make him known to anyone. Again the Christian life isn’t fundamentally about you. Evangelism doesn’t refer to a certain style or way of talking. It is the process of making God known. We use our mouths, resources, and lives to testify to what we believe in. What do you ultimately believe in? What would your closest friends say?

Evangelism is the process of testifying to what God has already done and is doing in your life. Jesus asks, do you love me more than these?

How should we handle this word? Is there a way to engage racial issues without calling someone a racist? Should we just stop using the word all together because people get defensive if it is suggested towards them? Interestingly enough, thinking about the term, “racist,” makes me think about driving a car.

You know the scenario. It’s rush hour. You are driving along and someone unapologetically slices over two lanes and cuts you off. You slam your breaks and take evasive action in order to spare your car and self from the ramifications of an incautious driver. As the car takes over the lane in front of you, all you want to do is honk your horn and yell “You Idiot”, “Jerk”, “A**hole” or some other negative phrase. Some of you not only want to do this, you go through with it; others accompany words with certain non-verbal actions.

Often we don’t consider our words. We use language so flippantly that we don’t think about the right usage of speech or the social communication that occurs underneath the actual words we say.

In the instance of the disruptive driver: was that person really an idiot? Or did they just do something idiotic? Is it justifiable to claim that one action automatically places them in league with those that make consistently poor life decisions? What if their decision to cut across lanes was because they had a bad day at work? Or because they needed to get over to the off ramp and that was the one opportunity they had to get off at their exit, otherwise their trip would be increased by another 30 minutes of backtracking? What if . . .? You get the point. There are a great deal of compounding variables.

Community and diversity expert, Maura Cullen, calls it the “pile on principle”. Sometimes ill-conceived actions are not due to our true character, but rather because we have experienced annoyance after annoyance and we have not had the opportunity to rest and make the clear decisions that we would usually make. This doesn’t justify the man or woman who pulled in your lane, but it provides space for grace. Of course some people really will cut us off for no reason, but it is dangerous to assume intention in a very limited interaction.

The same thoughts can be attributed to the word racist. If someone says “you people,” prefers to hang out with those that are “more like them,” or even says a racial slur, does that make them a racist? Or have they done something racist? Have they had a bad day and allowed society’s glamorization of racial slurs (even in satire) impact what comes out through their mouths? Are they really thinking about what they are saying?

It’s a question of character vs. isolated action. Again, there are some people who are indeed living lives of consistent racism, but we must be careful how and when we use that label. Otherwise, the word gets diminished and we lose the ability to differentiate between combating the racist acts that we all are capable of perpetrating and being labeled as “hyper-sensitive”.

We do a great disservice to those of all races and ethnic backgrounds when we label people struggling with diversity, race issues, and the like as racist. Instead of allowing people to be imperfect, we expect a world where everyone is politically correct and allow no room for individuals and society to grow. We must approach issues of race with hospitality, which does not mean permissiveness, it means allowing everyone to come into community and relationship as they are, hearing perspectives, and moving forward towards growth.

This is how God welcomes us. God does not come into community with us by lambasting us about all of our shortcomings. We are asked to see ourselves as broken and sinners, but God does not lead off with the latter. Rather God asks us to dwell with him as we are, not so that we might stay in our current state, but that we can become more righteous and greater reflect God’s image.

Racial slurs and racist actions are never appropriate, but if we demonize those who are coming into an understanding of race and racial etiquette, rather than cultivate growth, we are going to harvest citizens (including Christians) who are confused, frustrated, and downright indifferent toward the true, difficult, and hospitable work of racial reconciliation.